#by the way the very first day i attended this course i showed another guy to the women's bathroom because the men's bathroom was closed for

[bunni-v1]

OMGG you wrote the first years finding out reader was a girl so well! i love it :D could i maybe request the same thing but for thirds years? thank you so much and have a good day :)

Third Years Find out You’re a Girl?!?!? (NOT CLICKBAIT) 

TW: Rook and Lilia are creepy

Info: Trey, Cater, Rook, Lilia x Reader (platonic)

Tags: @kierancaz @danchann33 @arashrita

🍓Ahh, the third years… How I do love them. Please ignore my blatant favoritism in Rook… I just… I really <3 him. Truly, the third years are my absolute weakest character, but I hope I did them well. Remember, dorm leaders are on a separate post. Love you all, and enjoy <3

First Years

Ortho & Sebek

Second Years

Dorm Leaders

-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?

-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.

-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.

-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)

-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)

-So how do you two do it?

-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.

-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.

-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)

-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.

-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 

-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.

-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.

-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.

-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!

-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.

-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…

-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.

-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course).

-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.

-So… how do they find out?

Trey

-Trey is a very good middle ground compared to everyone else in NRC.

-He doesn’t find out immediately like some people, but he finds out pretty soon into knowing you.

-Trey has siblings. Specifically, he has younger sisters he helped raise alongside his mother and father.

-He’s good at reading women thanks to his sisters. He knows many tells of discomfort, displeasure, dislike, etc.. 

-It’s different from how his brothers would show it, how others at NRC show it. 

-He can’t even explain it, he just knows the differences and it makes sense to him.

-With you, he notices the tells. Notices that you deepen your voice and you shy away from the more… intimidating and touchy guys on campus.

-He’s not one to assume, though!

-He’s attended three years at NRC in the same class as Vil.

-He understands that gender expression presents itself in tons of different ways. 

-You clearly prefer using he/him pronouns, Ace and Deuce use strictly male pronouns, so it’s not his place to say anything.

-Still… the way your eyes glitter when he praises you for doing well on your tarts reminds him a whole lot of his little sisters.

-It’s not till a bit later, shortly before Riddle explodes when he asks Cater that his suspicions are concerned.

-“Cater, don’t you think the new guy in ramshackle is a little…”

“Girl? Yeah, it’s kinda obvs.”

“Is it now…?”

-Cater pretty much lays out everything he noticed about you, and it matches up pretty well with what Trey was thinking.

-Still! Trey doesn’t want to force the idea that you’re a woman on you! 

-What if you are trans, non-binary, or anything else? To assume something like that is completely awful, and he’s better than that. 

-He’s not a troublemaker after all.

-So, during one of Heartslabyul’s tea parties, (much like many others at NRC), he pulls you aside just to get confirmation.

-“So, this might seem a little rude, but I want to make sure I’m respecting you.”

“…kay…”

“Are you a woman?”

“Didn’t Cater tell you already?”

-Oh. Okay. Cater was right. He shouldn’t have doubted him. Noted.

-You make him swear up and down that he won’t tell Ace or Deuce, and you move on from it like it's nothing. (You’re not sure you can trust Ace and Deuce to keep their mouths shut at this point).

-And, really, it should be nothing. Trey should just be able to move on and relax… but his brotherly instincts sort of act up around you.

-He’s not overbearing in any way, it isn’t a creepy thing that suffocates you… it’s just a notable increase in intake of Trey in your life.

-He invites you over to “try this new recipe he made” (an excuse to ensure you’re eating, because he’s confident Crowley isn’t providing you nearly enough nourishment).

-Sometimes he shows up at Ramshackle to pick up Ace and Deuce and ends up staying and helping you clean up after the disaster freshmen.

-Most importantly, he checks in on you and your well-being considerably more than he does anyone else.

-He has, in fact, called you little sis before as well. He was incredibly embarrassed by it and refused to acknowledge it happened.

-Cater does not let him forget that it happens, calling you “Trey’s honorary sister” every chance he gets.

-It’s not so bad though. Especially at the start, you really needed someone reliable like Trey to lean on when you needed help since Crowley would only do the bare minimum.

Cater

-Cater finds out pretty damn quick after meeting you.

-It's not the exact second he sees you, but very shortly after your first interactions… he gets it.

-As we know, Cater was sort of forced into being feminine and girly by his sisters — something he was completely uncomfortable with, but later forced himself to embrace.

-When he looks at you… how big your clothes are, how you artificially deepen your voice, how you’re clearly uncomfortable with both of those things… he sees a younger version of himself.

-Still… it's super not his place to bother you about something like that. 

-He hardly knows you, and as your upperclassman, he should be a role model and not worry about superficial stuff.

-M’kay! It is no big deal for Cay Cay, he can leave it all behind him with no issue! Totally doesn’t bother him at all!

-…He’s a big fat liar.

-It’s not his fault okay! He just… can’t get that look of discomfort out of his mind. 

-You looked so miserable :( You looked like how he used to look :(

-So, Cater, far more impulsive and honest than good old Trey, straight up asks you. (Privately, of course, he’s not a monster.)

-“Heyyyy, so, weird question… are you a girl? It’s totally cool if you’re not, I’m just curious.”

“…How did you know…”

-It kinda freaks you out a lot. You thought you were hiding it so well.

-Cater, sweetie that he is, assures you that he’s different from others. 

-He’s got special circumstances that allowed him to notice what was going on.

-Promises he won’t open his mouth…

-He tells Trey less than a week later.

-It’s not his fault! He was on your trail already, he was gonna figure out one way or another!

-Other than the Trey debacle, he’s really good at NOT gossiping about it, believe it or not.

-He’s your reliable senpai after all :D

-He is your first official ally!

-Completely supportive of what you’re trying to do here, and is more than willing to be a safe space when you just need to… be a woman sometimes.

-You spend a lot of time with him after he finds out.

-His dorm is always open for you, even if Riddle hates it, m’kay! You can always come to your old pal Cater for help.

-He really helps you on selling the whole “I’m a man” act. 

-He shows you easier ways to hide your chest so you don’t always have to swim in your clothes and helps you keep your hair styled in a way that either hides it or makes you look more masculine.

-He’s like the best big brother figure to have, honestly, and he remains one of your dearest friends through your whole stay at NRC.

-He’s someone to vent to, someone who gets what you’re going through just a little, and someone who’s really there for you all the time.

-Also very protective of your secret. 

-The only reason Ace and Deuce don’t know for so long is because Cater is working overtime to keep them off your trail.

-He tells you all about his escapades and keeping them in the dark too, he’s so proud of himself. (Please praise him, he needs it).

-Seriously though, he’s such a sweetheart and he’s always there for you if you need him.

Rook

-Ah beloved lover of beauty Rook!

-He is quite the oddball, isn’t he? Always off in his own world spewing flowery nonsense all in “the pursuit of beauty” as he calls it.

-Most people on campus just call him a freak and move on from it. 

-You’ve heard about him, of course. The stalker-hunter from Pomefiore makes the beastmen on campus tremble in fear (or annoyance, in Leona's case).

-You knew he existed, but seeing him was never really common. In fact… seeing anyone from Pomefiore was rare.

-You guessed such an elitist dorm probably wouldn’t want to mingle with someone like you.

-In Rook’s case, however, you couldn’t be more wrong.

-He was quite interested in you from the very second you’d interrupted the whole opening ceremony.

-You were… striking in his eyes. Not quite as beautiful as Vil, of course, but very eye-catching.

-While Vil insists you are a pest not worth Rook’s attention, he disagrees.

-Truly, he’s fascinated by you and your story.

-You from another world, who goes out of his way to hide such natural beauty with baggy clothes and messy hair… Ah! How his heart pounds in excitement, he must know more!

-So he does the only thing he knows how to…

-He goes on the hunt. For what? He’s not sure yet, but his hunches are rarely wrong.

-He follows you to classes, watches you get yourself into trouble and out of it, stalks you through the windows of ramshackle, and laments about his findings to (a very unimpressed) Vil.

-You can feel his piercing gaze on your back, but you never see him. It’s chilling honestly.

-It’s not until he decides to follow you to Sam’s later at night that he figures it out.

-You had purchased a large box of feminine supplies…

-He had gotten you, little trickster :)

-Now, since he had gotten his solution, he laid back on the whole… creeping on you in your dorm thing.

-He is a hunter, not a pervert.

-Leading up to the VDC, when you’ve decided to try out officially, you suddenly see a lot more of this mysteriously creepy Rook character.

-And, honestly, he was really nice! 

-Sure he said a lot of needlessly long and poetic sentences, but at the end of the day, he would always wave at you in the hallways or offer to help you learn the dance for auditions.

-This was all a ruse to be able to get closer to you and uncover your inner beauty.

-HE convinced Vil it was a good idea for you to be manager, and HE was the one who offered to ensure you “didn’t cause any trouble.”

-And Rook, good as he is at hiding secrets, pretty much lets you know that he knows. Constantly you find him… flirting? Complementing? You… saying how badly he would like to see you cleaned up and in more fitting clothes.

-Nothing he’s doing is romantic… you think… he’s just very clearly interested in you.

-So, of course, you have to ask him.

“Did you… figure out I’m a woman.”

“Perhaps…”

“You’re… not going to tell anyone, right?”

“Little trickster, I am the master of secrets.”

-Honestly? It’s not so bad having him and the others in Pomefiore know. 

-You really get to be yourself with Vil and Rook, so it's nice! Besides, you haven’t been prettied up in a really long time. You kinda missed it.

Lilia

-Ah, Lilia… beloved elderly man.

-He won’t lie and say that he isn’t incredibly curious about you too. Who wouldn’t be?

-A human from another reality with no magic, no concept of where they are, and no idea how to get you back.

-Very curious indeed.

-However, he has no reason to get himself involved in your business.

-You are a confident young lad, and clearly strong and capable. 

-In the few interactions he did have with you, you clearly had your head on your shoulders and well-founded confidence in your own abilities.

-The only thing truly odd about you was… your face.

-He isn’t one to talk, he’s thousands of years old and he’s got quite (unnaturally) large eyes and soft skin.

-You, however, aren’t fae. You aren’t anything more than a human.

-Excuse his close-mindedness for just a moment, but if he wasn’t mistaken you look quite… feminine.

-Small(er) stature, baggy clothes, clearly discomforted by “manly” activities that your friends drag you into.

-It wasn’t his place to question, of course. He understands that gender isn’t easy to define, and his thoughts are only ideas from his past creeping up on him.

-Still… it raises some questions in his mind.

-He knows where his responsibilities lay, so he brushes his thoughts under the rug and moves on from the thought.

-That is… until he notices Malleus’… interest in you.

-The prince’s visits to ramshackle only seemed to increase after you arrived.

-As Malleus’ caretaker (and out of morbid curiosity), he must investigate you further.

-That's how you start… seeing a lot of Lilia. Like, too much Lilia. How in the world is he always there, it’s creeping you out.

-He’ll talk to you, sometimes, but most of the time you can feel his beady little red eyes watching you.

-You don’t know what you did to him, but it’s really starting to freak you out.

-You’ve seen his fangs, does he want you for a blood bag or something.

-You, being strong as you are, decide to just confront him one day in the library.

-“Okay, what’s your problem. You went from acting like I don’t exist to constantly staring at me like I’m your next meal.”

“Please forgive me, that wasn’t my intention. I’m simply… curious about you, and I didn’t want to scare you off by approaching.”

“I don’t think your solution to that problem was any less scary.”

-You give him the benefit of the doubt, and you realize this guy talks like your grandpa or something. He’s so old, it’s almost funny.

-You decide to start spending some more time with him, and you realize he’s really fun to be around.

-Despite his seemingly old soul, he’s rebellious and feisty, and he has an endless treasure trove of stories to tell you.

-He becomes a comforting force in your life, so much so you begin to confide in him your stresses and worries.

-Inevitably, you end up telling him how hard it is to hide being a woman. How only so many people know, and how exhausting it is to pretend to be something you’re not.

-“Does Malleus know?”

“Malleus…?”

“The man you meet in front of your dorm at night.”

“Oh! Do you mean Hornton? No, I don’t know if he’s good at keeping secrets or not.”

“He is not.”

-Lilia is more than willing to be a force in your life that keeps you happy and healthy. 

-He is more providing and giving than Crowley is, constantly giving you little gifts and ensuring you have enough money to keep taking care of yourself.

-You insist that he doesn’t need to do any of that, but his fatherly instincts tell him otherwise.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #bunni's treats 🧁 #trey clover #cater diamond #rook hunt #lilia vanrouge #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #rook hunt x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader

[beomiracles]

thin walls

when your new neighbour moves in he disturbs your peace and quiet ── however not all noise is bad noise...

pairing; beomgyuxfemale!reader warnings; masturbation, vaginal fingering ─ very brief though

not proofread hehe ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა rawr!

You had always preferred a cozy night in, rather than lively one out. Cuddling up by the TV or reading one of your favourite romance novels in bed was your ideal fun. Having peace and quiet was therefore essential to your living standards, that's why you loved your current apartment, top floor in a calm area meant that it was quiet by 8pm. At least it was, but then two weeks ago a new tenant had moved into the once empty flat next to you.

Though you had never once met the person they had managed to keep you up for the past two weeks, every single night, without fail. The constant sound of what you could only imagine to be a playstation of some sort where violent games involving shooting and bombing had been played. Your living room was wall to wall with theirs and so were your bedrooms. Whoever this person was they did not seem to care that there were other tenants in the building and tonight was the night you'd had enough.

Coming home exhausted from work at 5pm all you wanted was a warm shower a nice dinner and to curl up on the sofa to read your current book, in silence. But no later than 5.30pm had the noise from the apartment next to you already ruined your evening. Violent shooting followed by music so loud that the books on your bookshelves were starting to move.

Stomping to your door you swing it open and in five seconds you've reached the door of the person living next door. You banged loudly on the door in an attempt to overpower the noise from whatever game they were playing. Just as you were about to knock a second time the door clicked open.

Your words got stuck in your throat as you took in the view of your new neighbour. A guy no older than 25, you figured he was around you age, with the silkiest dark hair that reached just above his shoulders. His prominent adams apple immediately caught your eye and you gulped. His eyes glinted in an almost mischievous way as he grinned, seemingly unfazed by your glare. He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the doorframe casually.

"'Sup neighbour," he said in a playful but deep voice. The game made yet another noise from his living room, instantly making you recall why you were there in the first place.

Crossing your arms you frowned, "do you have any idea how loud you're being?" your words come out a bit harsher than you originally intended, though your new neighbour didn't seem to care as he shrugged. "Ain't really thought about that," you scoffed, of course he hadn't. "Well it's about time you do, you aren't the only one living here and the rest of us actually have lives to attend besides-"

"Slow down, ma'am," he takes up his phone and shows it to you, "it's only 7.30pm, don't tell me you're planning on going to bed already?"

You frown, "no of course not but I, what? No!" frustratedly you shake your head, "that doesn't matter, you're being way too loud. And don't ever call me ma'am again, we're probably the same age anyway."

Your neighbour raises an eyebrow, "what do I call you then?"

Dragging a hand across your face you sigh, "y/n, just y/n please." The guy in front of you nods as he extends his hand, "Choi Beomgyu," his grin widens when you shake his hand, "y/l/n y/n," you reply, your tone much calmer this time. "Please just try and be quiet after 8 alright?" Beomgyu nods, "You got it ma'am", just as you're about to tell him off about the ma'am thing the door shuts in your face. Letting out a frustrated sigh you head back to your apartment.

Surprisingly the noise did stop around 8pm and for the first time in two weeks you got a peaceful evening and a good nights sleep. However it didn't last long, not even two days later he was at it again, the game's violent noise fills your apartment and you resist the urge to just walk over there and kill him. By 11pm you can't take it anymore, you swing your legs over your bed and head straight for your door.

This time it takes you three loud bangs to get him to open the door and when he does you give him no chance to utter a single word as you go off about how loud he's being. Telling him how it's almost midnight and on a weekday at that, and not to mention that he's almost managed to rearrange half your furniture with the way he's playing music loud enough to wake the dead.

In the midst of your rant you fail to notice how his eyes linger on your body as a small blush paints his cheeks. It's not until you finish speaking with a sharp intake of breath that he finally says something. Clearing his throat awkwardly as he shifts in the doorway, "you uh, pull off pink pretty well ma'am."

Frowning you look down to realise that you'd left your apartment in only your silk pyjamas that just so happened to consist of a pink tank top with a matching pair of shorts. Coughing rather awkwardly your eyes snap back at him as you feel your cheeks heat up. "I, thanks..?", you clear your throat "that's not what this is about, for christ's sake just pipe down alright?"

Beomgyu nods as his gaze travels across your body, "mhm hm, 'course," rolling your eyes you walk back to your apartment and slam your door shut. You let out a relieved breath as you lean against your door, hoping to have finally reached through to him.

That night had been just like the one two nights earlier, calm and quiet, just how you liked it. And to your very pleasant surprise they continued on to be quiet, on the third night you almost felt a little bad as you hadn't heard as much as a squeak from that game of his. However laying in bed that night quickly made your thoughts on your new neighbour change.

It had been late, much later than you would like to admit when you finally closed your book and flicked off the small light on your bedside table. Snuggling closer against your blankets you close your eyes as your body slowly began to drift to sleep. Just as you were about to slip into the unconscious state of sleep a muffled noise caught your attention.

You couldn't quite make it out and when no further noise was made you brushed it off as you got comfortable again. But there it was again, frowning you sat up on your bed as you flicked the small light on. Squinting as your eyes adjusted to the sudden light you tried to make out where the sound was coming from. It took about a minute until you realised that they must've been coming from the apartment next to yours, Beomgyu's apartment.

Whatever the noises were they weren't loud enough for you to go over and make a third complaint. Opting to still get some sleep you turned off your light and got back in bed. However closing your eyes the muffled noises from the other apartment were all you could focus on. The darkness only seemed to make them louder in your ears as you tossed and turned trying to fall asleep.

The noises however grew louder despite your efforts to block them out and now you could make out exactly what they were. But...that almost sounded like─ a loud whimper followed by a soft moan broke your thoughts and your eyes widened in realisation at what your neighbour was up to.

Gulping you turned onto your back as you stared up at the ceiling, there was no way he was actually? But then you remembered that just like there was only a wall separating your living rooms, there was only one wall between your bedrooms as well.

Uncertain of how to proceed you lay in bed as you listen to the sounds of your neighbour, deep breathy moans mixed with grunts. It felt almost sinful to listen to him without him knowing and you'd just considered moving to your couch when you heard it.

"y/n.. nhhgg─ hmnnhh y/n.."

Your name leaving his lips in such a way made your stomach flutter in more ways than you'd like to admit as you felt a wave of arousal course through you.

Biting your lip hesitantly as you weighed your options, your mind was practically yelling for you to get up and out to your couch. Despite that you couldn't help but wonder if it really would be so wrong to just stay. Against your better judgement one of your hands moved across your stomach and down your panties.

The moans of your neighbour spurring you on as you begin to lightly rub your clit. Letting out a soft breath at the sensation before slipping two fingers inside, shamefully pretending for them to be your neighbours cock filling you up.

As Beomgyu's moans increases on the other side of the wall so does the movements of your fingers. The way your name spills from his lips makes your core clench around your fingers desperately as your other hand comes up to cover your mouth.

"mhhnn, ah, f-fuck y/n," he whimpers and you almost climax at those words alone.

Beomgyu lets out a soft grunt as his breathing turns heavy and you imagine him spilling all over his hand and stomach. The sounds of your neighbour so shamefully cumming to you and the pictures your imagination drew are enough to make your legs tremble as you orgasm. Biting back whines and moans you catch your breath as your hand slips back up from your underwear.

As you stare up at the ceiling in disbelief over what just happened you realise that Beomgyu's apartment has gone quiet. Biting your bottom lip you sigh, maybe you didn't mind having a noisy neighbour after all.

read part two here :3

→ want to get notified whenever a new dream is published? join my TAGLIST ★ all rights reserved ─ @beomiracles 2024

#beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu smut #txt fanfic #txt smut #txt

[benkeibear]

⋆꙳✧༄ Breaking up with them

❖ Characters: various blue lock characters

❖ Reader: genderneutral

❖ Summary: Just small Drabbles based on songs about how you guys broke up and why

❖ WARNINGS: heartbreak, mentions of cheating at the first one

❖ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi! | thank you @i-am-tiny-sun for helping me choose between songs!

It came out of nowhere, the both of you having a rather beautiful relationship, one that makes others jealous but the moment the words slipped past his lips your whole world crumbled. He cheated in a drunken haze at a party- a party you attended as well. He tried blaming it on the alcohol in his system and that it doesn't count because it didn't mean a single thing but to you it was clear, things would never be the same and you can't stay with him much longer after this. What if this wasn't a one time thing? It wasn't the first time he disappeared during those parties after all.

"We could blame it on our hands, they lifted the drink to our mouths so we drank it. Or we could blame it on our bodies - they say we like the way we feel when we get touched”

➸ Ryusei Shido, Oliver Aiku, Akira Endoji, Ryosuke Kira

Every time he came over, he never stayed the night and he made it clear from the very beginning that there won't be any feelings involved. Of course you agreed but somewhere after all the times you fell asleep in his arms you realized that this meant something to you, even though it shouldn't. His kisses linger on your skin but the warmth his body provided, doesn't linger much longer than the night lasts and is gone by the time the rays of sunshine flood your room. So one day without another word you blocked him and never opened the door, even when he showed up and begged to talk to you, his heart broken over not being with you anymore.

“Said I wouldn’t care if you walked away but every time you're there, I'm begging you to stay. Only love can hurt like this, your kisses burn into my skin”

➸ Rin Itoshi, Michael Kaiser, Shoei Barou, Gin Gagamaru, Okuhito Iemon, Aryu Jyubei

Things were always so right but yet so wrong. The lack of time, the lack of touches, the lack of your partner being committed to the relationship. You knew you two belong together since it was always you against the world but the world slowly started to defeat the two of you. Days turned into weeks and none of you had the power to change anything, helplessly watching from the sidelines as your relationship slipped away like sand through your hands - slowly but inevitable. He might be your perfect match but it's just not the time for the both of you to be happy with each other so you decided to break things off… maybe in the future things will work better for you.

“When you said your last goodbye, I died a little bit inside. But if you loved me, why’d you leave me?”

➸ Sae Itoshi, Yoichi Isagi, Reo Mikage, Rensuke Kunigami, Noel Noa

The relationship was straight out of a fairytale, flowers every friday, a kiss on the forehead in the morning and at night, a shared bond without words - something people would call eternal love. He made you feel like you're the most important person to exist, like you two could tear down everything that comes into your way. The nights you two spent inside, giggling about your future, thinking about how you'll name the kids and pets, designing your own little house - everything forgotten in the split of a second when he told you it's never been real to him, he just needed someone to warm his bed and you were perfect, too naive to see through all of his sweet talking.

“I don't want to waste away another cell on a memory when you're just another meaningless lover. Forget the nights we spent laughing ‘til the morning on your bedroom floor”

➸ Jingo Raichi, Jinpachi Ego, Alexis Ness, Wataru Kuon

Things were never perfect, but what relationship is perfect? Truth is that you both loved each other unconditionally, yes. You loved. It's the past. Date nights started becoming less and so did the mutual interest to spend time together, be it inside or going out together. It was as if you two just coexisted within each others spaces, the “good night, I love you” turned into “good night, love ya” and finally into “good night” and that's when it hit the both of you - there was a time where you loved each other but that time is long gone. The only right thing to do now is to let each other free, allowing the other to find love elsewhere and it was okay. You still valued what you once had.

“Let's just forget the things said and the autumn night when we realized we were falling out of love. So let's just pretend everything and anything between you and me was never meant to be”

➸ Gurimu Igarashi, Seishiro Nagi, Meguru Bachira, Hyoma Chigiri, Ikki Niko, Tsurugi Zantetsu

Network: @tokyometronetwork

#blue lock x reader #bluelock x reader #blue lock angst #shidou x reader #shidou angst #kaiser x reader #oliver aiku x reader #nagi x reader #rin itoshi x reader #bachira x reader #sae itoshi x reader #chigiri x reader #barou x reader #aryu x reader #isagi x reader #reo mikage x reader #kunigami x reader #ego x reader #gagamaru x reader #ness x reader

[thisismeracing]

King of my heart | extras | Mick defending Yn from a mean journalist

Summary: Mick has media duties with Mercedes this week and one of the tasks happened to be a podcast interview with a new F1 show. They also happened to mention Yn, but Mick did not like the way they talked about her, and he wasn't about to let someone downplay her during a live interview, not in front of him.

Word count: 1.4k (got carried away again, sorry lol)

A/n: @flowerchild-96 sent me this idea, bringing up a scenario about Mick defending Yn. I did some adaptations, and voila, here you go, yet another Komh extra. I hope you guys like it, even if it's a bit different from the original idea. And thank you, Flower, for requesting this piece <3

A/n2: This is set when Mick and Yn are already together.

A/n3: This can be read as a stand-alone, but it's better when you've read the series.

Warnings: curse words; angry!mick; typos - not proofread.

see my masterlist | my taglist | KOMH Masterlist

you can support my writing by liking, reblogging, and leaving a comment

Mick is tired.

He’s been doing Sim work every spare time he got, and some days it went as far as him staying until after midnight in the factory. Add this to the fact that he hasn’t been seeing Yn that much, she’s been busy with work as well, and most of the time they’re getting are during the weekends when all eyes are on them.

No-Yn and no sleep have proven to be a very stressful combination, so maybe that’s the reason why he found himself trying as hard as possible not to be rude or dry on his answers. It was work, it doesn’t matter if he had been asked the same question thousands of times, just the other day, or the minute prior, he had to answer it as if it was brand new, and he had to be polite, that last part was on his nature. 

However, defending those he loves is also in his nature, and Mick's ears perk up when one of the guys, Jack, mentions Yn.

He doesn’t know how the guy managed to bring her up when the topic was cars and the last performance Mercedes had, and Mick tries his best to keep his expression neutral, first because he doesn’t want to be rude, and second, because it’s a live podcast. The cameras are on him, just like the big microphone is in front of his face, half of the fans are probably watching the live, and the other half that is not will surely watch it soon. They will analyze every move he makes, and the last thing Mick wants is to bring more attention to his family and friends. 

“We saw recently that Lewis’ sister is attending races as well,” that itself was already problematic considering they had just talked with the Merc media manager and she listed the subjects that could not be brought up, Yn was there, of course. She didn’t want that kind of attention, and everyone always did their best to keep her safe and respect her wishes. It was even more infuriating when Jack kept going, “Do you think she distracts the crew by being in the garage? Would you say she’s a liability to Lewis or more like a lucky charm?” 

Oh, and didn’t Mick finally understand the saying “he was so angry, he saw red”, because he quite literally had to close his eyes after the whole question was sputtered. 

How the fuck did that guy came up with such a shitty thing to say? 

Mick saw how the second host was embarrassed for his mate, he saw the way the Mercedes PR manager eyed him a bit taken aback, he saw and heard everything, yet his mind did not think twice before putting his body to action. His brows furrowed, the blank expression he had quickly turned into one of unlucky surprise and anger.

“Excuse me?” Mick eyed the mand up and down before letting out a humorless chuckle. “Is this supposed to be a bad joke or?” 

“I was just thinking, because Lewis’s sister is-”

Mick interrupted before Jack could go any further and make him angrier, “I think the first problem with your question is that you keep referring to Yn as “Lewis’ sister” when she has a name and had a career before their relationship as siblings were outed in the media. It is stupidity to resume her as Lewis’ sister and only that. Yn is a talented and famous business woman, she has her own brand, and she made her connections without needing to use her surname,” he’s so angry he could go on all day, he sees the way the Mercedes PR seems to struggle on what to think about his words, sees the way Jack starts to get red, and franquily Mick just wanted to tell that guy to fuck off and leave that interview, but he had to make his point clear, and he would defend Yn. To hell with media and the outcome of it all. So mick went on, “Yn was Yn before Lewis. It’s different with me because I came after my father, we were tied since forever, and everyone knew it, but Yn got famous without anyone knowing she had Hamilton bloog, she used her mother’s name, she kept herself from publicly interacitng with her brother and celebrating all his wins, she sacrificed a lot, so don’t come to me and talk about her erasing all her work and effort to get where she is now. Put some respect on her name.” 

“You seem a bit stressed about the way I voiced it, I’m sorry.” 

“Of course. We’re talking about my friend, and even if she wasn’t a friend, it’s insensitive to talk about someone like this in a live broadcast when that someone did nothing wrong and it’s not even here to defend herself.”

Jack coughed a bit embarrassed, and the second host could only smile awkwardly, “We’re really sorry, Mick. Jack just happens to be a huge Lewis fan so it’s always ‘Lewis this and Lewis that’ he ends up forgetting everyone else,” he gulped and tried to downplay it.

Mick directed his narrowed eyes to his water bottle, opened it and took a swing before nodding briefly. He was done with that interview, and he knew everyone else were too. It only took three more questions, not so rude as the last one – thankfully, for the podcast episode to be finished. He kept his cool, but Mick knew his expression was probably still uninterested and annoyed, his body language sure showed how his guard was up, arms crossed on top of the table, head tilted as if waiting for Jack to try and mess with his girl again, as if silently daring them to even mention Yn’s name. 

When it was over, Mick had a brief talk with the Merc PR who told him that she personally loved how he stood up for Yn, and reassured him that they would work a plan so that the podcast interview didn’t spill more on Yn or him.

The drive to the hotel was quick, however, his head was pounding, his body tense, it was as if his tiredness had doubled the size after the events. Immediately upon getting inside the elevator he decided to go to Yn’s room instead of his, Mick did not take the time to think that maybe she was sleeping, or busy, at least not until he buzzed her room. Just as he was aabout to pretend he never set a foot on her floor, Yn opened the door. 

“Hey, mouse,” she breathed, a small smile in the corner of her plush lips. 

Mick felt his body melt, half of its tension dissipating with just one look at her angelical face. Yn was wearing one of his shirts, part of her curls messily tied on top of her head.

“Hey,” he faltered, still not sure if it was the best idea to ring her bell without a warning. 

“Are you gonna keep staring at me?” Yn bantered, reaching for his hand and bringing him inside before closing her door. 

The hotel room smelled like her. Her perfume, her lotion, her hair products. Mick closed his eyes, took another deep breath trying to see if the her scent would caml him a bit more. 

“I’m sorry-”

“It feels nice to be your friend-” 

They said at the same time and it was a only a beat before both were laughing. Yn’s word were clearly a joke about how he said she was his friend. She had watched everything, and she didn’t seem mad about his outburst. Mick felt partly responsible for how the media was digging up her life after they were seem together, and he knew this interview would probably give them more amno to keep going about “mickyn”, he was relieved Yn seemed to pay no mind to it at the moment. 

“I think I talked too much out there, I’m sorry, babe,” Mick started, but Yn shook her head. She got on her tip toes, hands going around Mick’s neck, his face now only inches from hers.

“Thank you for standing up for me,” she whispered, and he gripped her waist bringing her body close and hugging her, his head on the crook of her neck, her hands playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. “It’s great to be friends with you, just please make sure I’m the only one who can do this,” Yn joked when Mick faced her, and smashed their lips together in a tender, but also giddy kiss. 

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mellowpizzapuppy @ferrariloverr @kenanlotus0 @mickslover @Dalsuwaha @formulakay3 @mishaandthebrits @crimeshowjunkie @iloveyou3000morgan @fdl305 @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo

#mick schumacher #ms47 #mick schumacher imagine #f1 imagines #mick schumacher x reader #komh extras #blurbs #mick schumacher imagines #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher x black!reader #f1 imagine #black!reader #requested #komh

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Interviews for New Beginnings: Part 2

Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader; Word Count 3.4k

Warnings: Swearing, Sexism

A/N; Hi everyone! I am so glad you guys liked the first part! It was so much fun to write, and when someone asked for this to be multi-chapter, I just couldn't get it out of my mind. So here's another part! I have no clue how long this will be yet, but I do have a plot in mind. Please enjoy, have fun, much love , <3. - Mo

Eli and you made a pact to not tell the family that you now BOTH were working for one of the most feared men in the city. Eli would’ve been berated for an hour or two at best, thrown out at worst. You? One could only imagine how many years you would be locked in your room. When your mother and father asked about your interview and your new boss, you gave the prettiest pieces.

He is quite successful papa. The bakery is very large, easily 100 men employed!

Yes mama, I get my own desk, and I get Rosh Hashanah off.

Yes papa he is Jewish. Yes very respectable. No I don’t know what Temple he attends.

Yes mama Eli never left my side. And I suppose he is handsome. No mama I don’t know if he is married.

Your mother bustled about, checked all of your dresses and stockings, making sure they were all in perfect condition for your new job. She checked your bag of supplies possibly 30 times by the end of the night, just to ensure that you had everything you could possibly need, even things you may not have needed. A mother could never be too careful.

The next morning as you began to walk out of the door, your mother and father kept fussing over you, straightening your hat and sweater.

“Now dear since Eli’s shift does not start till later you will have to walk yourself ok? Be careful, don’t talk to anyone, you go right to the office yes?” Your mother reminded you for the umpteenth time.

“Yes mama of course. Straight to work.”

“And be on the look out for those awful gangsters poppet. The Peaky Blinders have been seen milling about town, and you know that God forsaken Solomons has his disgusting paws on every corner of the city.” Your father grunted out still drinking his morning tea.

You felt the tips of your ears warming. You hated to lie. You were so bad at it. “Of course papa. I’ll be careful, I love you! I might be home late, I’ll send Eli to alert you.”

You kissed them both and made your way down the street. Excited for a new start, and for what the day may hold.

It’s interesting how Alfie insisted on being at the office at 8, yet still had not shown up by 8:20. Thankfully Ollie had given you a tour of the distillery, shown you your desk (situated right in front of Alfie’s door) and given you the times of the meetings today. You had taken the liberty of starting up some tea on the small stove by your desk, and clearing out some of the crumpled paper strewn out across the floor. ‘Honestly for such a tyrant he really keeps this office unruly.’

You hear your name bellowed from outside the office, and you run out quickly. There you see Alfie, smiling at you. “Shalom my little viper! So you weren’t bluffing were you? Glad to see you aren’t as cowardly as Eli.”

You crossed your arms and you felt your mouth firm, “Shalom Alfie. You are late this morning and I have to talk to you about todays schedule. Ollie had to show me around the distillery and he informed me that you have 5 meetings today, FIVE! One of them is set to start in 20 minutes, and -.”

“Now now treacle hold your tongue, be sweet to me yeah? My back. Let get to work yeah?”

It was only then that you noticed the cane he was clutching. You immediately felt your chest become heavy, and guilt override. “Oh..Alfie I’m so sorry I didn’t know I-“

“Hush now pet don’t even begin to fuss. It’s just my back yeah?”

“What are you taking for it?”

Alfred just scoffed and rolled his eyes walking away from you and into his office.

“Mr. Solomons what are you doing to help your back!?”

“Be quiet woman! You want the whole town to know that Solomons’ got a bad back? Hush damnit! Now what is on the calendar? Who am I meeting with?”

“Well you have a Mr. Abrams coming in at 8:40. A Mr. Clochester at 10. Rabbi Rubin at 12. And a Mr. Shelby at 4. But you’re not seeing anyone until you-“

“Till I what huh? Till I what? Are you my mother? No! Now hush! Ollie! Get this woman a notepad now! Treacle sit there on that coach and be quiet!”

You just stared at Alfie, and you couldn’t help but feel shame and embarrassment. And Alfie was faring no better. He could see hints of tears threatening to spill, but your chin set firm, fists clenched. Alfie wanted grab you in his arms and… tell you he was sorry, but…

“Aw fuck… treacle… no you’re right. Treacle come please. What do you think?”

“Think about what Mr. Solomons?”

“Nah fuck that I told you Alfie. Tell me what you think I should do about these meetings and my damn back.”

"No not at all Alfie. If you don't need anything for the pain in your back then you don't. I'm just a woman right?

"Well now you're acting like a fucking child."

"Of course Alfie. Whatever you say Alfie."

You closed your ears off to what he was barking at you. Fine. If he wanted to suffer, he could suffer. It was far too early to fight with such a stubborn...beast of a man. And besides, you had things to attend to.

Despite the tiff this morning, the day went by smoothly. As smoothly as it can be in the distillery you supposed. Mr. Abrams left the room with a black eye and tears, promising he would never lie to Alfie again. Mr Colchester left more bloody than he came in. Rabbi Rubin was a delight, complimenting the tea you made, and scolded Alfie for not coming to temple recently.

Throughout the day, you could slowly but steadily see the stiffness working it's way up Alfie's spine. Though it didn't quite deter him from inflicting pain and vengeance on those who came in, you kept your eye in careful study. The small twitches of his eye. The rougher grunts when he got up from his seat, and the heavier footsteps as he walked around. You also noticed that he hadn't eaten all day, and when you asked about it he merely mumbled, "mmnot hungry''. But based on the way he quickly avoided your gaze when you caught him staring and the loud grumbling you heard at 3, you figured his resolve would have to melt soon.

At 3:45 you were at your desk, drafting out some letters Alfie had requested. It was while you were in deep focus, chewing on the tip of your thumb when you heard a soft cough.

Your head snapped up, and you were met with the iciest eyes you had ever set your eyes on.

Pretty.

That's the only thing you could think as you looked at the man in front of your desk. Clean shaven. Well dressed. The smell of tobacco and soap and...something secretive radiating off of him. You internally shook yourself out of you consideration of the man to finally say, "Good Afternoon sir, how can I help you?"

He smiled, in a soft way though you felt a rush in your chest, "My name is Thomas Shelby, I have a meeting with Mr. Solomons."

Oh. This is Thomas Shelby. Leader of THE Shelbys. "Oh yes Mr. Shelby I've been expecting you. You are a bit early, so if you could please sit. Can I offer some tea?"

He nodded, turning to the soft couch across from your desk, "Tea would be lovely, thank you love."

After serving him tea, you went back to work at your desk till the clock struck 4. At least you tried to. You felt those eyes all over you. You felt as though every muscle movement was being scrutinized. "Since when did Alfie get a secretary?"

"Today is my first day, he hired me yesterday."

Thomas hummed in understanding, looking out the window to your left, admiring the soft rain. "If I may be so bold, could I ask your name? I don't like not knowing who gave me tea."

You gave your name, looking directly into his eyes. He repeated it back, as if he was feeling out every consonant on his lips. Even though it was an innocent enough question, you couldn't shake the feeling that you needed to be on the offensive. As if he wanted something. "Where did he find you? You're far too pretty to be working for someone like Alfie."

"I found him. And I can assure you Mr. Shelby that my face had nothing to do with my hiring."

"As you wish darling."

As soon as he said it, you heard your name being called from inside Alfie's office. You quickly got up to meet him, and felt those eyes all over you.

Alfie looked horrible. His hair was sticking up in all directions, his vest and shirt were both half done, and he was scribbling away on some paper, "Oi, is that bastard here yet?"

"Mr. Shelby? Yes, he is sitting down waiting for you. I've just given him tea."

His head rose from his hands, and his thick brows were furrowed together, "The fuck did you give him tea for? He doesn't need tea, no he doesn't deserve tea!"

"Alfie you can have tea too if you ask me."

"No no no already told you I don't want tea. I don't want lunch. I don't want your help beyond taking the notes. I am a grown man damnit! Now for fucks sake, bring that damn bastard in here, sit on the couch, take the notes, and hush your mouth!"

He was teetering. This wasn't just being a gangster. This was a child who was fighting to take a nap. He was going to snap soon. So you just smiled cheekily, "Of course Alfie. I'll be right back."

You nearly skipped to the door. Alfie was growing increasingly frustrated, "AND TAKE AWAY THAT FUCKING CUP. NO ONE GETS TEA."

You did take the tea cup away from Mr. Shelby , and ushered him in, settling yourself down on your seat with your pad and pencil.

As Mr. Shelby settled in, he smiled and looked at Alfie, who was looking more and more disgruntled, "Good Afternoon Alfie. You look well."

"Fuck off Tommy. What do you want?"

"Yes the weather is quite dreary, but I am doing well thank you. But yes let's get down to it. Alfie...are you familiar with gaming clubs?"

In your opinion, this meeting should have taken 30 minutes at most. But you were going on hour 3 at this point. 7 o'clock and you were growing tired. You know Eli had already gone home to tell your parents you were held up. This was becoming ridiculous.

The idea was interesting enough. Gaming clubs have been an up and coming social house for the high society. Men (and their women) would gather in clandestine areas, playing cards, placing bets, drinking, doing snow, all types of things. But the real trade was information. Yes their main products would be successful in such places, but the information that would be dripping from loose lips would bring more power than they could get now. More than they could get in decades.

The only thing they disagreed on was the split ownership. Alfie offered a 90/10 split. And when Tommy refused Alfie was quick to pull his gun. And maybe you should have been afraid, but frankly you were too irritated with Alfie to care, or to believe this petulant act he was putting up. Your pad was almost filled with doodles, crossed out numbers and terms when they finally shook on it, you would write up the agreement in the morning.

As Tommy stood to leave so did you, and when he took your hand to shake it, he raised your knuckles to his lips, pressing a kiss and giving a wink. Your eyes widened at his boldness. He smirked at your response, turning to Alfie again, "Love the new secretary Alfie. Definitely brightens up the place."

He turned back to you and tipped his hat to you, "See you soon darling."

Tommy sauntered out of the door, and Alfie stayed standing until the door closed and he heard his steps fade. It was then that Alfie nearly collapsed into his chair, hands rubbing his face, "Treacle come here."

You came and sat right back in the chair Tommy Shelby just occupied, "You want me to reread the agreement to you?"

"Nah I trust you got it. Just write it up tomorrow. But listen to me yeah? You do not go near Thomas Shelby. I know the young girls tend to fancy him but listen to me... that man is evil. He is not safe. And I don't want you caught up in his nonsense."

"He's evil yet you're doing business with him."

"I'm a bad man darling, but that doesn't mean you need to get wrapped up in it. Just say that you won't fratrenize with him alright? Or do you need to fight with me about this as well?"

You nodded, "I understand."

You just stared at him, waiting for him to dismiss you when you heard his stomach growl again, and his face twitch in pain, hand rushing to his back. "Are you ready to admit defeat Alfie?"

He scowled at you, "I don't know what you're talking about. Go home it's late, you don't need to stay."

You smiled, "If it's already late no difference is made at this point. But I'm not about to let my boss go home hungry and in pain... or go home without saying I was right."

He puffed out his lip, "There's nothing to eat here anyway."

"I brought you lunch. Beef, roasted veg, and bread."

He looked at you quizzicaly before you said, "Eli told me that Ollie told him that you haven't been eating recently. I just took upon myself to bring you something. There's also a muffin, but you will have to share."

You heard him say something about mutiny, but then told you to go fetch the lunch you brought him. You only brought enough for one lunch for him, but he ended up insisting you share with him, since, "You haven't eaten supper. It's not right."

Eventually, once his stomach was warm with a good meal, you got him to let you tend to his back. "What are you going to do hmm? Give me a strange draught your grandmother taught you that will make me vomit for three days?"

You laughed brightly, and he couldn't help but smile and stare at the way you threw your head back and laughed loudly. Deep in his chest he hoped that you would let him make you laugh like that forever.

"No you ridiculous man. My father was in the war, and he got shot in the shoulder. He lived thankfully, but he feels a deep pain like you do. The muscle tightens and he can't move. We get a hot rag, place it on his shoulder, and my mother needs to work out the pain."

Alfie felt a flush on his neck, "Well that would require me to take my shirt off darling."

You rolled your eyes, "For a gangster you act like a child. I won't tell if you won't Alfie. Now will you cooperate?"

In truth you hadn't thought that far into it. But it was pitiful to see him like this, and you can definitely be professional about this. Alfie shrugged and pulled off his vest and shirt, and you couldn't help but feel the heat rise, and not just from the hot rag in your hand.

You knew he was imposing, it was hard not to see him and hear him. But seeing the breadth of his shoulders, the width of his body and the hair on his chest made your cheeks heat up and your face freeze. Alfie caught your stare, smirking, "Now who's acting like a child?"

You rolled your eyes, and placed the rag on his lower back, hearing him hiss and try to relax into the heat. You began to work the knots out of his back when he asked, "Do your roommates know where you are?"

"My roommates are my parents, Eli, his parents, my little sister, my younger brother, and our grandparents. And they know that I am at work, helping my boss finish a business meeting. Eli told them."

Alfie nodded, "Do they... know where you work?"

You smiled, "They know that my boss is a respectable jewish man, who owns a large bakery that employs many many men, and that I get my own desk."

He snorted, "So you lied to them?"

"Not lie. Just...reframed it for them. Shall I tell my mother that I am the secretary of the fearsome Alfred Solomons? Or should I tell my father that I directly disobeyed his orders to stay away from Solomons boys, and went directly to the top?"

He laughed, "Alright now alright... so why this office? Educated girl like you can't work anywhere else? Unlikely, seems like you like being rebellious to me."

"Well... if you can believe it Mr. Solomons... my back talk does not do me many favors. Truthfully... Eli brought me here because you were my last chance at independence. It was either your office, or I would have to visit the matchmaker."

A silence washed over you, and you began to worry that you shared too much. "Well... I like that you speak your mind. Even if it drives me fucking nuts. Never give it up darling. You stay just the way you are alright?"

You smiled softly to yourself, "Yes Alfie."

A comfortable silence took its' place, and you eventually were able to work out all the knots from his back. You began to pack up your bag, and as Alfie redressed himself he asked, "Is Eli coming to pick you up?"

"No I don't think so. He is probably having to help with the tailoring, and he won't be able to step away. I'll be ok."

"Fuck no. You're a woman, you don't walk alone at this time at night, especially not here. I'm taking you home."

"You don't think women are capable of taking care of themselves?"

"No I know you could hold your own darling, but it is cold and I am not about to let you get hurt on my watch. Come we'll take the car."

The drive to your house was comfortable. You couldn't understand it. You had only met Alfie yesterday. And yet you felt as though you had known him for years. As if you never knew life without him. The whole ride you talked. From business for tomorrow, his childhood, his dog, your interests and what your opinions were on the business. You laughed and spoke the entire time, and it felt like no time passed. The car pulled up right to your door, and Alfie walked to your door to open it for you and help you out, "Alright watch your step treacle, still wet from the rain yeah? There you go darling."

You took his hand, and your breath hitched at the contact, his warm and rough hand covering yours. You looked up into his eyes, face partially obscured by his hat, "Thank you Alfie. You didn't have to."

"Of course I did. And it was no trouble. If you are kept in the office till dark, I drive you home yeah?"

You nodded with a smile, and he shook his head in affirmation, "It's a deal then. Now get inside you little viper, you'll catch a cold."

You began to walk to the door, turning around to say, "Goodnight Alfie."

He smiled, "Goodnight darling."

As you walked up the stairs to the home of your family, you couldn't help but run through the day in your head. Especially the end of it, smiling to yourself and feeling the rush in your stomach. You opened the door as quietly as you could, but heard you mother say, "Who was that in the car dear?"

#alfie solomons #peaky blinders #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons x y/n #alfie solomons fanfic #Interviews for New Beginnings

[thedeerman]

RadioApple Fic:

Do You Want To Know?

Hey all, this is the first chapter of my little slow burn radioapple fic. Please let me know what you think, I don’t write much!!

Ch1: A New Idea

It’s been three weeks since the attempted extermination. Three weeks since Lucifer just barely saved the life of his daughter in a fight that nearly killed everyone she cared about. Three weeks since he helped to build the new hotel and moved into his very own suite. It’s been both terrible and beautiful for Lucifer. He had hardly spoken to another soul for years and now was thrown into daily gatherings with sinners he didn’t know. Some of which he certainly didn’t care to know. But those gatherings also included his daughter. His wonderful, smart, passionate, forgiving daughter. I don’t deserve her, Lucifer thinks constantly. He spent years neglecting their relationship, burying himself in his own sorrow, and yet Charlie welcomed him in without a second thought. Without even asking for an explanation or apology for his years of absence. He’s not sure where she got such a big heart, but he’s beyond grateful that she has it. And as an attempt to show her just how dedicated he is to helping her see out her dream, he’s been showing up for every morning meeting. Every ‘family’ dinner. Every chore list, cooking schedule, errands run, nearly anything that could be signed up for, he does. Lucifer didn’t mind chores much. Cooking was fun and he could be experimental (in a way that didn’t include human remains, much to the other residents’ delight). Doing dishes or laundry was something as monotonous and calming as making ducks and other little trinkets. And on the days when he really just wasn’t in the mood to deal with it, he simply used his magic to help him get it done quickly. No matter how emotionally taxing, how time consuming, or how frustrating the task was, Lucifer was ready and willing to do anything he could to help his daughter succeed.

It’s because of this that Lucifer ends up on the attendance list for all of Charlie’s ’family’ activities for the hotel. It doesn’t seem too bad at first, but as the activities get to be a little more personal, Lucifer ends up regretting how agreeable he was to his daughter’s every request. A bit too late to be kicking myself for that now... Lucifer thinks as he sits in yet another hotel ‘family’ meeting. The ‘family’ being Charlie of course, her girlfriend Vaggie, the spider demon/porn star Angel, the grumpy bartender Husk, the scary little maid (the one that killed Adam, no less) Niffty, Angel’s one eyed bomb loving friend Cherri, now Lucifer, and... Ugh. This guy, the fallen angel thinks, as the final ‘family’ member graces them with his presence by appearing from the shadows. Alastor... What a pain in the ass. Lucifer doesn't actually have much reason to hate the demon aside from his frustrating theatrics and his need to always be the one Charlie pays the most attention to. Whatever game you’re playing, I’ve got my eye on you, he’s always thinking.

“Alrighty everyone!” His daughter’s voice catches Lucifer’s attention. “Now that we’re all here, I’d like to announce that we will be trying a new activity!” There are a series of groans from the group. None from Alastor, of course. But his creepy, always there smile seems strained, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as Charlie continued. “So! You all know how we’ve been trying out some new ideas as test runs for new residents,” she starts. Yes, and it’s been excruciating. No one involved has been enjoying being guinea pigs for Charlie’s therapy experiments. The only silver lining being that the new residents wouldn’t have to suffer the same fates, as each and every “new activity” so far has been tossed out after a resounding failure of some kind or another. Fights, tears, broken furniture, and excessive day drinking have occurred both during and after a few of these sessions. Her ideas weren’t terrible in concept, but in practice, with demons and fallen angels and souls under contract, they just weren’t working. Lucifer’s attention is once again brought to the front of the room as Charlie continues.

“And yes, I understand that the past few exercises we’ve tried... haven’t exactly ended well.” Lucifer hates the sad look in her eyes as she considers her failures, but it’s gone as quickly as it arrived. “But after a lot of discussion and thinking about how and why our previous activities went so....” She pauses, looking for the right word. “Awful? Terrible? Destructive? Shitty? Depressing?” Angel adds. Vaggie glared his way but the demon wasn’t paying any attention. “Yes, thank you Angel,” Charlie says hesitantly. “So! I took those... experiences... into account while creating this one!” Lucifer shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He was a huge fan of Charlie living out her dream, but he wasn’t a huge fan of having to be this close to the action. He lets out a small sigh. I can’t abandon my place as her dad again. Charlie paused for a moment to reach into a bag and hand a bundle of items to Vaggie. Small strips of paper and markers. As Vaggie started passing them out to each of them, Charlie explains. “First thing’s first, I need everyone to write their names down. Once you’ve written your name, please give your paper to Vaggie.”

Lucifer’s anxiety starts up, as it always does when he’s involved in one of his daughter’s ‘family’ activities. He just hopes whatever comes of this involves less property damage than before. He hands his paper back to Vaggie as she walks around to collect them. Giving the papers back to her partner, Vaggie continues the instructions. “You will now each receive a randomly chosen name. The name on your paper will be for your eyes and your eyes only. Do not tell anyone else the name that you got.” Charlie excitedly passes the papers back out, now folded shut. “Except for me!” she interrupts. “I’m going to make a note of who gets who for the sole purpose of understanding the effectiveness of this activity. Don’t worry, no one else will get to see!” Her smile is infectious, Lucifer just can’t help it. He always smiles when he sees his daughter this way, so full of hope and joy. Vaggie hands him a folded strip of paper. Before he can open it to see who he was assigned, Charlie speaks again.

“Now, unlike some of our previous attempts, this activity will not be done as a group.” Multiple sighs of relief are heard, and Lucifer notices that Alastor seems to relax ever so slightly. At least that’s one thing we can agree on... “However,” Charlie continues, “This will be a week-long exercise-” multiple groans again, “that will involve a prompt each morning. That prompt will be a question or instruction that each of you will respond to in a letter. The letters don’t have to be long, but must include a full response to the prompt. They don’t have to be short either, just go for whatever your honest answer is!” She’s practically bouncing up and down with excitement as she says “The recipient of what you’ll be writing for the week will be the name on the paper youve been given. You’ll have a full 24 hours to write your letters. Tomorrow you’ll hand them in to me during the morning meeting, and will then be given the next prompt. Any questions so far?”

All of them are silent for a long moment. Vaggie breaks the silence. “Here are the rules. Rule number one: You MUST be respectful. OUR version of respectful. No insults, no petty jabs. Just answer the prompt. Rule number two: No discussing who each person is writing to. I mean NO discussion. Do not ask, do not tell. If we find out that this rule is broken, the offending parties will be sitting in on Charlie’s hotel-wide group therapy sessions for a month.” Lucifer’s eyes went wide at this. Several others did as well. Group therapy wasn't an uncommon ‘punishment’ (though Charlie wont ever call it that) but the sessions are held four days out of the week and last for one to two hours at a time. And with new arrivals slowly trickling into the hotel to be redeemed, the sessions were getting larger. Lucifer tensed, thinking of the last time he was forced to participate after getting into a spat with the only sinner in the building he just couldn’t stand to be around. Lucifer was not meant for group therapy, that was for sure. The most any of them have been forced to attend for bad behavior was one week. None of them wanted a whole month.

Vaggie looked amused at the group’s reaction to this. She spoke again. “This also includes revealing yourself to the person you’re writing to. These letters are supposed to be anonymous.” Charlie speaks up. “This exercise depends on honesty and anonymity, and I have really high hopes that this one can be used by new residents learning to redeem themselves.” She pauses. “Okay. So now that we’ve gone over everything, I’m going to call each of you over to note down who you’ll be writing to. I’ll then give you a paper with today’s writing prompt and an envelope to put the letter in once you're done. Make sure to seal it! After that, bring your envelope with you for tomorrow’s meeting and I’ll mark the intended recipient on the front. At the end of our meeting you’ll get the letter addressed to you and the next writing prompt.”

All of this information takes a moment to register in Lucifer’s head, but after he’s gone over it all in his mind he’s left with a sense of pride for his daughter. Out of all of her experiments so far, this one is the first that Lucifer doesnt think would turn into an all out war. It seems... feasible. He smiles as she makes eye contact with him, clearly ecstatic with her plan. Vaggie calls each one of them over to the desk that Charlie has against the room’s far wall. One at a time, each member of the ‘family’ does as they’re told and then leaves the meeting room. Lucifer spends a moment wondering who got his slip of paper, the one with his name written on it, until he suddenly remembers that he never looked at his own intended letter recipient. With no one close enough to peer over his shoulder, Lucifer slowly opens up the folded paper to see whose name is written.

Of course. Go figure. Yeah, why not just make the next week my own little slice of Hell? I mean honestly- His thoughts are interrupted by Charlie’s voice. “Dad! It’s your turn!” He looks up and realizes he’s the last one to be called. Everyone else, save Charlie and Vaggie, have already left the room. He attempts to smile as he stands and faces his daughter, but she sees through it immediately. And it's obvious. “Come on Dad... I know who you got.” This surprises him. Was his face really that revealing? “Everyone else’s name has already been marked on my chart, so...” She smiles awkwardly. “Listen, I think this will be good for you! Please, just try your best?” Lucifer slowly walks to the desk and sighs heavily. “Anything for you, sunshine. I’ll try my hardest.” He hands the strip of paper to his daughter and she gives him the paper with the prompt and envelope in exchange. “I dont think I’ve got you on the chores schedule today, but I’m gonna be pretty busy so I probably won’t see you until dinner.” She smiles at him, that glowing warm smile that he’d missed out on for so many years. She encourages him with an “I love you, Dad. You’re gonna do great!” and gives him a thumbs up.

He leaves the room smiling, just loving being in his daughter’s presence, until he walks into the lobby and sees him. Sitting on one of the many comfy chairs, sipping black coffee out of a mug that says “Oh Deer” on the side. The asshole. The worst demon in the hotel. The piece of shit that loves to torment Lucifer to no end. The name on his strip of paper. He strides by as quickly as possible to avoid any contact. Damn it... He thinks on the way back to his side of the hotel. Why, of all people... He can’t get the vision of the neat, cursive handwriting out of his head. His mind focuses on one name and one name only.

Alastor

Read Chapter 2!

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel alastor #fanfic #mine #Do You Want To Know

[yandere-sins]

Creature

This is, of course, for this one special anon ♥ Jokes aside, always remember guys to not read stuff that isn’t appealing to you instead of regretting it later (;

Fandom: Original Content Pairings: Yandere!Hephaestus x GN!Darling!Reader  (However, I did decide on calling them Priestess in this work, though nothing else as indication) Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Planning to set the reader up for sex, Dub-Con, Monster Fucking, Implied Cuckolding, various innuendos, Getting flashed), Forced Relationship, Power Imbalance, Possessiveness, Jealousy, Mention of insecurities and anger issues

Prompt: @sintember Free Day Friday: Creature - Monsters, beasts, cryptids galore. We can’t let those humans think they run the show.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««  

"So… how do you like him?"

Hephaestus's hands fell to your shoulders. Large thumbs resting against the back of your neck while his fingers wrapped around your throat, sliding under the golden necklaces he crafted for you. Once again, he let you feel his subtle superiority over you as he leaned against you ever so slightly, pushing you down. Putting you into your lowly, human place by his side. It was just his illusive way of exerting his power over you, but you were so used to it that you didn't try to stand up straight and push back against him. To stay in favor was the goal when it came to the gods, even with someone as kind and forgiving as Hephaestus was. Being defiant towards him would result in him pinning you down on the ashen floor of his forge until you swore your devotion to him, and later remark how dirty you looked and how it was unfitting of your position.

So, instead, you kept your eyes pinned on the monstrosity before you. You wanted to give it the benefit of the doubt, that looks were deceiving, and you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but you had no other words to describe it. It was a creature formed after a man but clearly nowhere near human. And after being with Hephaestus for what must be years on earth now, you knew this was a golem rather than a living, breathing being. It was also, very clearly, not his first try, which unnerved you more. This had been a planned and practiced endeavor, and you weren't sure how to properly accept such a gift from your benefactor.

You could have had it worse with the god whose eyes you caught. Had it been anyone else but Hephaestus, well… You saw what they did to the other humans; the shameful displays and broken minds. Being a priestess to the god of blacksmiths and various other crafty skills, your worst experience was the nude modeling for his creations in front of other beings interested in his doings. Otherwise, you were a glorified house warmer, just making sure to wipe the floor after Hephaestus came home, dragging ashes after him, and helping him wash and relax after another day of working. You'd also serve him as his personal outlet for various rants and reassure the big, mighty smith when his thoughts turned angry and insecure. In return, you were spared the same awful life that your fellow humans on Olympus had, which you were endlessly grateful for. You could spend your days resting and honing your own skills when he wasn't at home, Hephaestus never telling you what to do or constantly attend him. The only times you really left his lofty home were the occasional times you two had to go to an outing of the gods or when he asked you to come and fetch a new gift he had made for you from his forge yourself.

But you weren't sure you wanted that.

"He'll help you at home," Hephaestus explained proudly, moving around you and patting the back of the golem who stood closer to the god's height than yours. He was shimmering, silver iron, a piece of art so delicately crafted that he moved soundlessly despite his massiveness. With toned muscles chiseled into his body, he almost looked as handsome as Apollo. However, when Hephaestus beckoned you closer, the golem holding his hand out to you, you felt the freezing cold of metal against your fingertips, smooth like stone in the ocean.

The hairs carved onto his head didn't move as he cocked his head at you, probably wondering why you were so warm in comparison. It just was unnatural not seeing the strands move. But his eyes were no better, soulless gems hammered into his head, lips carved into an eternal, gentle smile. He was unnerving, but how could you possibly deny such kindness from your god? Even if it wasn't the blessing of being allowed to return to the human realm, refusing the golem he had crafted to assist you for the small chores you had to do every day, might shatter what little respect Hephaestus had for his human. You didn't want to think about the things he would be capable of doing once you lost his favor.

Hephaestus might have been nicer than other gods, but you weren't an idiot trusting in just the gentle attitude he showed towards you until now. He, too, had his fair share of misdeeds and anger issues, and you knew the crooked ways he looked at you when he thought you didn't notice, his gaze burning on your skin. You weren't the only one to notice, either. Whenever you two met Aphrodite (much to the chagrin of both gods), she'd give you one of these burning looks as well. Hephaestus at least looked at you with something akin to serenity and delight, but hers was a look so full of pity it was barely endurable. And that while she had countless of mindless humans flocking around her that you felt were much more to be pitied than you.

But who were you to judge immortals and their ways? A lot of what you learned about them in the mortal realm hadn't exactly turned out to be wrong, but they were definitely different from how you expected them to be. All you could do was hold out your hand as politely as possible, watching in a mix of fear and surprise as the golem bent to kiss the back of it, cold lips lingering reverently against your skin. Your face snapped to Hephaestus as you wanted to make sure it would not upset him, but he looked at his creation in a mix of pride and adoration. As if it was his child.

"T-Thank you…" you stuttered, getting very mixed signals here.

Hephaestus didn't like you around the other humans or gods. He didn't want you to participate in games or even to wait on him, hand and foot. He mostly kept you by his side when he could, not allowing anyone closer to you than he was. Even if this was just a golem, you thought he'd hate seeing any kind of contact between you two aside from a quick handshake as you tried to offer.

"You like him then?" Hephaestus asked, finally looking back at your flustered, anxious form, and you nicked, again polite rather than genuine.

"That's good," he sighed, and you almost felt like he was deeply relieved, though you didn't know what was bothering him so, despite you being closer to him than even his family. "You tend to be alone while I work here, so he's in charge of keeping you company and protecting you."

Feeling like this was genuinely meant as just another kind gesture from him, you smiled for the first time, slowly nodding in understanding. "Thank you for considering me," you told Hephaestus, and he smiled back. He looked almost boyish in the way his eyes sparkled and the happiness of his achievement spread over his face. He seemed very pleased with his creation and bringing you joy through it. You usually weren't as happy about his other gifts, too many necklaces and rings stored away in your closet already. It had become increasingly hard to feign surprise and adoration for every piece of jewelry he made for you. So even though it still felt weird to lay your eyes on the creature, you actually felt Hephaestus's concern for you as you looked at it, albeit unnecessary since you rarely left his house without him and could maintain it just fine.

"I'm very relieved," he confirmed your suspicion, dragging a large hand over the golem's head in a bizarre form of a pet. "There've been things I couldn't do for you yet, so I wanted you to have a companion who'd be able to satisfy your every need."

Taken aback by the statement, you looked up at Hephaestus, furrowing your brows as you tried to think of what he could mean. Unable to figure it out on your own, you looked back at the golem who, despite his expression being chiseled into his face, seemed a bit mischievous now. Even Hephaestus let out a small chuckle, seeing your surprised confusion, before gesturing at his creation, the golem reaching for the knot holding the expensive-looking fabric he wore in place.

In a swift movement, the garment fell to the floor, and you released a startled gasp, shielding your eyes with your hands and turning around. "What do you think?" Hephaestus asked, pride vibrating in his laugh. "A perfect replica of mine, wouldn't you say?"

Embarrassed and having not expected this surprise, you just nodded to keep the peace and not unnecessarily hurt his pride, your gaze having not lingered on the erect cock and full balls the golem was gifted with, unable to compare them to what Hephaestus looked like naked. Nudity wasn't that big of a deal for you anymore after living in a society that didn't care so much about modesty. Still, perhaps it was the surprise that a mere golem could have something lingering there. Why would Hephaestus even give you something like this? It had been unthinkable, considering how possessive he usually was. You had done nothing to warrant his suspicion about your needs needing to be met, and this was also not very appropriate for a priestess sworn to Hephaestus. Or maybe it was? Since it was his creation?

Gently gripping your chin between two fingers, he turned you around again, forcing you to gaze at the golem despite averting your gaze out of respect. "It's fine to look," Hephaestus absolved you. You hesitantly opened your eyes and bit your lip while meeting his gaze coyly.

"I know how you humans are. Always needy, always greedy. That's why I decided to take matters into my own hands. Like the others, I know you will betray me one day. "

The last statement made your expression harden, your hands snapping to wrap around his fingers. "I would never–" you tried, but he hushed you, unnervingly composed, gently applying more pressure on his grip to shut you up. 

"Everyone does," he sighed, closing his eyes and scrunching his nose to hold back the feelings boiling up inside him. For a moment, you felt genuinely bad, knowing how much he had been betrayed by those closest to him from the tales around Hephaestus. His expression turned sourly before he took a deep breath, opening his eyes again to look at you. "So I am giving you this present, and tonight, you will take him to bed in front of me."

Appalled, you stared at Hephaestus, your mouth opening ever so slightly as the thought of allowing this golem to do what neither a spouse nor your god had, settled into your mind. Hephaestus had never pushed you into a sexual relationship—though the other humans certainly had that kind of involvement with their gods—even when touched and demanded your nearness. You had always been grateful for that as well. But as beautiful as he was—and you were sure Hephaestus created the golem with your satisfaction in mind and to suit your taste—he wasn't real and couldn't even speak. Wouldn't it hurt if he embraced you? Would the kiss not be terribly dull? There would be no feeling behind it, and to do it all before your god's eyes felt even worse.

"But, I--" you wanted to argue, but Hephaestus's features hardened, and he shut you up with a sharp glare alone. "You will. It doesn't matter if you think you'd never go behind my back. One day, one of those damned bastards will send someone to lure you away from me. They'll take you from me for their own amusement, and I refuse to give you to them. But with this, I will control these urges of yours. Either his-" he pointed at the golem, "-will be the one to satisfy you or mine. No one else deserves you!"

The crushing force of his fingers keeping you in place made you wince as his anger grew with every sentence. It was understandable, to a degree, but for the first time, you were terrified. Not out of reverence, but because he was hurting you with his touch and the barely-existing pride you still had with his thoughts. You wanted to think of yourself as loyal and devoted, and you also didn't want to think about riding some iron-cold dick before the eyes of your god.

"I will enjoy it too," Hephaestus finally added, softening his grip and releasing you with a now calm rub of his fingertip against your cheek. "I have connected my feelings with the golem's, and he will treat you just like I would."

Rubbing the pain away where Hephaestus touched you, you glanced at the golem suspiciously. Suddenly, his arms sprang forward as he stepped up to you, wrapping you in his firm, cold embrace. You were squeezed in the worst way possible, making you fear for your life as the golem's body just seemed to envelop you wholly. As if strong, silver walls were threatening to destroy your bones and press the life out of you. You had suspicions, but you never had pried into Hephaestus's feelings for you. But if he shared them with the golem, they must have been much stronger than you anticipated.

Hephaestus's voice rang out from outside the iron prison you were kept in, chuckling with joy, "He will love you just like I do. And once you had him between your thighs, you'll never want to leave me again. I'll make sure that you will never want any other man or god to touch you, and I will prove just how good I am to you over and over until you crave me instead of your new friend."

You never intended to leave Hephaestus after accepting this position, even though you longed for your real home away from Olympus more every day.

But now you wanted to run straight into the dark embrace of Tartarus.

Far far away from Hephaestus's reach and the golem's iron grip, his cock twitching against your stomach in anticipation.

#Sintember 2022 #Hephaestus #yandere hephaestus #yandere!hephaestus #yandere gods #yandere!gods #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW #OW

[bingoboingobongo]

task force 141 + new years

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

Warnings: none

A/N: um the pre new years depression is hitting me hard so im gonna listen to the same music a hs boy would to make it better. see you guys next year :)

alright so good lord i don't think anyone in the task force can really accept that it's already new years oh god

like they're all really busy all the time and so the year has a tendency to just fly by

that being said the task force is more than ready to say goodbye to 2022 and say hello to 2023

of course soap is the first to propose a new year's party

complete with lots of champagne, new years resolutions, and of course lots of celebrating

and yes they will all be passed out and hungover come morning

anyways

simon "ghost" riley:

alright so even though he isn't a party person in the spirit of growth ghost decides to attend the entirety of soap's little party

and you know what it was a really good idea

his new year resolution this year was to try and open up a little more

obviously he's still gonna be ghost when it comes to work, but with the people he loves he's gonna try and lower his walls a little

anyways it turns out to be a pretty fun decision

leading up to midnight he's still pretty much his old ghost self

not really getting into the party too much, sorta just lurking in the corners, you get it

but after the ball drops and everyone else is getting even more and more drunk

ghost lets himself loose a little

definitely starts drinking and interacting more

and by the end of the night he's almost completely out of his shell

turns out with enough alcohol even ghost becomes just another regular guy

he's cracking really bad jokes, laughing at everyone else's really bad jokes, and generally just having a really good time

and yes if you guys are together he will give you a new years kiss

even if he has sneak away to do it

john "soap" mactavish:

alright so soap is really hyped for new years

he's pregaming way before he needs to pregame let's be honest

and when the festivities do start you know soap's gonna be the life of the party

he's definitely getting into way too many drinking games than he should lol

it doesn't take him very long to get stupid drunk

when midnight comes he's screaming the loudest during the countdown

he's had enough of this year and he is more than ready to send it off

and when the ball drops he is screaming as loud as possible

will definitely immediately give you a kiss too

this year soap's new years resolution is to make the most out of every day

it's kinda a cop out resolution he'll admit but that's the one he sets pretty much every year so it's practically tradition at this point

besides he thinks he does a pretty good job completing it

he's a lot more familiar than he would like with how easy it is to die

i mean he is in life or death scenarios like every other week

so it's just important for him that he goes out with no regrets

kyle "gaz" garrick:

alright so gaz gets pretty introspective during the new years

like before all the partying and the alcohol comes out he likes to take the time to step back and really analyze the year

he tries to make each year better than the last and so he always looks at last year's shortcomings to see where he needs to improve

this year his new year's resolution is to fall out of less helicopters

just kidding

his resolution is to try and spend more time with you and his family

this year gaz is all about showing the people he loves just how much he cares about them

after his many near death experiences, he's realized that the next day really isn't promised and it's important to let people know how much you love them

that being said when it gets to the party any introspective is gone for the night

gaz is ready to get drunk and have a good time

he's definitely doing karaoke after a few drinks

and when the ball drops get ready to experience the most mind blowing kiss ever

john price:

alright so like gaz price tends to get pretty introspective during the new years

part of it is just who he is and part of it comes from his military training

he's always trying to be better and improve

and so his new year's resolutions are chances for him to do that

this year his resolution is to increase his mentorship when it comes to the task force

he trusts that ghost can be a good successor if he dies, but he also wants to make sure gaz and soap are prepared as well

ik it's kinda a bummer way to start the year, preparing for your own death, but it's the military what can i say

that being said any pre new years angst is out the window when it's time to start the party

price may be prepared to die but he's also prepared to start the year off right

he's very very happy counting down the seconds with a drink in his hand and his arm wrapped around you

and you can feel him smile against you as he gives you your new years kiss

alejandro vargas:

alright so tbh idk where the origins of this superstition come from but ive heard of a lot of hispanic people doing it so ig it fits

but alejandro is definitely getting under the table and eating his grapes

him and rudy too because they've done it together every year since they met

honestly he's not too big on new years resolutions just because he feels like he always ends up being so busy with work he ends up forgetting

so he just lets his grape wishes do the work for him lol

some of the things he's wishing for is being alive (duh), wealth, love, etc.

i mean it's really all the classics

when it comes to the party alejandro is ready to get drunk and have a good time

definitely cheers pretty loudly once it strikes midnight

is also a big fireworks enthusiast

you'll have to sit under the table with him if you want a new years kiss tho sorry

he'll give you a quick peck, eat all his grapes, and then give you a better kiss once he's done

rodolfo "rudy" parra:

alright rudy's definitely the kind of guy to get sad during new years

and honestly me too rudy me too

idk man rudy just feels like the years go by way too fast

so this year his new year's resolution is to make more memories to make the year seem longer

like alejandro he also gets under the table and does the grape thing

it's something alejandro taught him when they first met and it's one of his favorite traditions

he gets very stressed about eating all the grapes tho

but usually if he rushes he can get them all in

he'll kiss you once he's done with his grapes that way he can focus all his attention on you

and the party is honestly a great way for him to start of his new year's resolution off right and fight off the new year depression

because it's pretty hard to be depressed when he's around a group of people as amazing as you and the task force

#bingoboingobongo.com #bingoboingobongo's christmas extravaganza #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost fluff #soap cod #soap x reader #soap fluff #gaz fluff #gaz cod #gaz x reader #john price x reader #john price fluff #john price cod #alejandro vargas fluff #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas cod #rodolfo parra cod #rodolfo parra fluff #rodolfo parra x reader #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod #mw2

[mochegato]

Sending Sexy Back

“This should be it,” Adrien pronounced, looking between his phone and the bar sign a few times.

“Are you sure?” Marinette snickered.

He checked the name of the bar and his phone again, swiping to another screen to verify the address before answering.  “Yes.”

Marinette let out a snort that turned into full blown laughter.  “You’re ridiculous,” she chortled as she held the door open for him.

“I just want to make sure we don’t miss this.  It’s the first time he’s the headliner for a poetry reading and we’re the only ones here for him,” he reminded her.

She rolled her eyes but bobbed her head in agreement.  There were other friends who were going to come, but of the people he deeply cared about, she and Adrien were the only ones coming.  Nobody from his family was going to attend.  Supposedly, all of them were far too busy to make it, which was ridiculous considering there were like twenty-five of them and somehow not one of them could free up a few hours.

It was one of the reasons she had dropped everything to make sure she was there for him, not that she wouldn’t have anyway, but it added extra pressure to the night.  He deserved to have a strong showing of support and she and Adrien were going to make sure he had it.  “I wasn’t criticizing the sentiment, just the delivery.”

When they got into the bar, she was pleasantly surprised at the turn out.  It wasn’t too crowded to move, but it was very well attended.  They had to wind their way through the crowd to get to the bar.  The only downside was they weren’t able to easily spot Duke to hype him up before he went on.

“Just text him,” Marinette urged.  “He could be backstage… if they have one, and we wouldn’t ever see him.”

Adrien nodded absently.  “Yeah.  Yeah, that’s a good idea.”  He pulled out his phone again and typed quickly before looking up and motioning toward the bar.  “Come on, let’s get a drink while we wait.”  His phone dinged just as they made it to the bar and Marinette could tell by the slow smile that spread on his lips exactly who the text was from.

“He’s running late,” Adrien snorted.  “Of course.”  He turned the phone for her to see the message, shooting her a mock glare for her scoff, which he knew without even asking was because of the kissy face emoji at the end of the message, but he still tucked his phone in his pocket and raised an eyebrow.  “What?  Dark and Stormy, please,” he added for the bartender.

“Boulevardier, please,” Marinette ordered with a bright smile for the bartender before she dropped it as soon as she turned back to Adrien.  “You guys just saw each other on Wednesday.”

“And now it’s Friday,” he responded as though it were the clearest thing in the world, and she was the most obtuse person in the world to not understand.  “That’s two whole days.”

Marinette scrunched her nose at Adrien.  “Disgusting.”

“Disgusting?” he demanded in mock affront.  “It’s disgusting to be so utterly in love with your partner that being apart hurts your very soul?”

“Mon Dieu,” she muttered quietly to the bar.  “Unbelievable.”

Adrien nodded to the bartender before taking a small sip of his drink and turning back to Marinette.  “Your view of the world is just utterly devoid of any romance,” he smirked.

Mari took her drink with a smile for the bartender.  “Can’t argue with that,” she chuckled mirthlessly and lifted the glass toward Adrien before took a testing sip of her drink, letting out a sigh as it hit her throat.

Adrien’s face dropped and he had started reaching for her before he registered the movement.  “Mari, I…”

“Maybe I can help with that,” a smooth, deep voice drawled from behind her.  It flowed around her like silk, caressing her skin as it moved.  “Can I buy you a drink?”

Mari turned toward him slowly, utterly surprised by his brazen advance, but even more so when she finally faced him.  She had to stop herself from dropping her drink.  He was easily the sexiest man she’d ever seen.  Calling him an Adonis would be an insult to the man.  He wasn’t traditionally sexy.  He wasn’t ruggedly sexy.  He wasn’t model sexy.  He was just sexy.  Full stop.  With his messy dark hair pushed back in an effortless style that would take hairstylists hours to accomplish and his crystal-clear blue eyes that focused on nothing but her, little crinkles forming along their edges as his brilliant, boyish smile widened at her attention.  And he was looking at her like she was the most captivating thing he’d seen in ages.

That reaction jolted her focus back to the situation as a whole rather than on his chiseled muscles straining against the tee shirt he was wearing.  She narrowed her eyes and held her drink up for him to see before taking a long, slow drink.  “I have one already.”

Unfortunately… or maybe fortunately, she honestly wasn’t sure, his grin somehow became even more roguish at her cheeky tone.  “The next one then,” he offered.  His eyes finally left hers, the first time since she’d turned around to glance at her drink and immediately back to her eyes.  She vaguely noted he had yet to give her a once over like she’d given him.  No, he’d been entirely respectful.  The confusing, stunning bastard.  “Or maybe a snack.”

She smiled sweetly back at him, humming as she leaned in slightly.  “That does sound appealing.”  He mirrored her movement leaning in ever so slightly toward her as if unaware he was doing it.  “No, thank you.”

He froze instantly and leaned away.  “Wait.  No?”

“Yes.  No,” she repeated leaning away and resting her elbow on the bar.  “Too sexy.  Not dealing with all the…” she motioned toward all of him, “… that goes with it.  But I appreciate the offer for a front row seat for the show.”

He stared at her for a full five seconds before he opened his mouth to speak but snapped it shut again immediately with a confused grunt.  He had to take another breath before he started again.  “You aren’t interested because… I’m too sexy?” he clarified slowly like each word made the sentence increasingly foreign to him.  “Seriously?”

“Dead ass.  There’s a whole,” she motioned wildly to the heavens and back to him, “that you people either have or just pervades you like smog.  I need a break from…” she motioned toward him again.  “I need a normal guy, with normal guy issues.  Not drama.  Good luck tonight though,” she offered cheerily and turned away from him, back towards Adrien.

She could feel him continue to stare at the back of her head well after she’d turned.  She almost turned back around at the small chuckle he let out, picturing him accompanying it with an amused shake of his head, but Adrien jumped in before she could make that mistake.  “Hey!” he exclaimed.  “You dated me!  I was sexy!”

His lips pulled down in an exaggerated pout, but it served its purpose as she scoffed at him, her own lips ticking up.  “You were cute,” she corrected, “not sexy.”

“What does that even mean?” he demanded, affronted at the very insinuation.  He was sexy damn it.  He was a model… or he had been when they dated.  He still could be.  And he knew he’d affected her to her core back then.  “You couldn’t speak when I was around.”

She waved him off as she took another sip of her drink.  “Yeah, no.  There’s a big difference.  I wanted kids with you but never at any point thought about sex with you to produce them… or sex not to produce them with you.  He,” she motioned vaguely over her shoulder, “makes me want to do debauched things that would make booktok girls blush, and all he’s done is say hi and smile.”

Marinette missed the way the man’s eyebrow raised at her words and his lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk, but Adrien was in perfect position to see it.  He’d opened his mouth to speak but Adrien cut in first, gasping loudly so there was no easy entry back into their conversation.  “I’m hurt.  This hurts.  I feel…” he furrowed his brow in faux serious consideration as he patted different areas of his chest like he was trying to find something, finally settling his hands above his heart, “betrayal.  I’ve been betrayed.”

Marinette scoffed and rolled her eyes.  She took a much longer drink this time.  “I’m sure Duke will make it all better,” she consoled and congratulated herself at keeping the condescension from her voice.

Adrien grinned before he could stop himself but quickly schooled his expression into a heavy scowl.  “Maybe, but…” he motioned toward her, “…first love didn’t find me utterly sexy.  My ego might never recover.”

“See,” she threw her hand up in a vague motion toward the heavens.  “You’re sexy now and this is what you’ve become.  This,” she motioned harshly toward him, “is exactly what I want to avoid.  Sexy destroys the personality.”

He met her gaze and kept pointed, intense eye contact.  “So, you admit that I'm sexy now,” he clarified carefully.

She groaned and threw her hands up in frustration.  “Of course, you are, you mangy cat.”

He nodded and took a drink, satisfied with the response… for the most part.  He set his drink down and eyed her suspiciously.  “How sexy?”

She stared at him with the flattest, deadest look and let out the longest, most exasperated sigh she could manage.  “So sexy you’ve lost all personality, and I could never date you,” she stated.  If Adrien hadn’t known her better, he would have believed the bored delivery.  “Better?”

“Much,” he nodded solemnly, ignoring her amused snort.  “Now let's get a good spot to watch Duke.  He’s up next and I want to be close enough he can see me if he gets nervous,” he grinned, all evidence of levity gone from his eyes, quickly replaced with a genuine, sappy excitement.

“You go.  I’ll get refills and food and be right there,” she interjected motioning toward the bartender.  Adrien nodded but, he was already scouting out a place for them to sit.  It was so sweet, so devoted, Marinette couldn’t help but chuckle.  She only looked back when the bartender made a noise behind her.  “Two of the sa…”

“Refills,” the bartender announced, setting down two new drinks in front of her.  “And fries.”

“You’re a mind reader,” Marinette gushed as she reached for the glasses.  “Thank you so much!”

The bartender scoffed as he grabbed their old glasses to wash.  “Not me.  Him.”  He jutted his chin to her side.  “And paid for them.”

Marinette froze and looked between him and the drinks.  “For both of them?”  Her eyebrows shot to her hairline at the bartender’s nod but they then quickly fell over narrowed eyes.  She turned slowly; her lips pursed in contemplation as she gazed at him.

Had he just bought hers, she’d know what it meant, how to respond, what his intentions were.  But he’d bought drinks for her and her friend and hadn’t made a big deal of it.  He hadn’t tried to maneuver the offering into a second introduction.  And he wasn’t just trying to get her drunk.  He’d bought her greasy food that would keep her sober.

He was not playing by the Pretty Boy Playbook, and it was throwing her off.  There was certainly another playbook he was going by, she just needed to figure out which one.  Nobody who looked like him didn’t.  She’d learned that firsthand… and repeatedly.  “It appears I owe you a thank you.”

“Nah,” he waved her off but turned back toward her, giving her his full attention again, “it wasn’t about getting a thank you.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and settled further into her chair.  “Oh?  So, what was it about you getting?”

“A smile, but not for me.  Well, kind of for me.  I won’t lie, I’d like to see your smile,” he admitted.  “Your real one,” he clarified.

She huffed a small bark of a sound, not quite a laugh, but not quite a scoff and picked up her drink, bringing it close to her chest as though she had picked it up to drink rather than something with which to keep her hand busy.  A siphon for her anxiety.  “You think you haven’t seen it already?”

There was no doubt the noise he made was a scoff.  “No.  Not tonight.  Not in person.  No, I think what you offered tonight was a shield, a false front, meant to deflect and protect.  I’d like to see a real one.”

“Think you’re owed that, do you?” she clipped.

“No,” he answered instantly.  “But I’m trying to earn it.”

Marinette blinked at him; her heart having stopped.  Her entire body and mind had glitched.  She was utterly unsure how to respond to that.  This wasn’t just a different book; this was a different medium entirely.

She finally forced her body back into action with a scoff and a lift of her drink to her lips, but she set it back down undrunk.  “I should think earning it is a foreign concept to someone like you,” she accused.  Her tone was sharp.  She hoped he felt it, but more than that, she hoped he didn’t feel the shakiness in it, the fact that it was less sharp than it could be, than it normally would be.

“Ah yes,” the man nodded sagely, utterly nonplussed by her tone.  “Your perception of me.”  He took a long sip of his drink, as always keeping his eyes on her.  “Based entirely on my looks.  Doesn’t seem fair.”

Marinette snorted but very consciously did not smile, at least not a ‘genuine’ one.  Instead, she quirked her head to the side and offered a derisive smirk.  “Not used to that evaluation going against you?”  She pouted excessively.

He ran a tongue over his canine as his eyes sparked devilishly.  Marinette barely had time to prepare herself before he went for it.  “So, is it your hypothesis that you’re not sexy yourself or are you saying you have no personality?”

Her smirk dropped entirely, and her head snapped up straight.  Of all the possible next statements he could have made, it wasn’t the last, but it certainly wasn’t high on the list.  “Excuse me?”

He shrugged with an innocence she was positive he hadn’t experienced in at least a decade.  “Because from what you said earlier, you seem to think people can only have one or the other, but as far as I can tell you have both in spades.”

Her eyes narrowed and her body leaned forward entirely of their own volition.  She had to consciously force herself to lean away and break eye contact to study her glass, twisting the glass to swirl the contents into a golden vortex.  “You were eavesdropping,” she accused.  She set the glass back on the bar and turned back to him with a wrinkled nose.  “Also, what is ‘spades’?”

He blinked at her, trying to reset his brain to comprehend her question.  “Spades.”  He repeated the word slower, like annunciation was the issue understanding.  “You know spades.  It’s…” he paused to think about how to finish the definition.  “It means… They’re…” he flustered, still at a loss, his hands waving wildly as he grasped for an answer.  “It means you have a lot of both.”

He let out a breath to gain his composure back, but still had to take another drink before he could continue.  “And, for the record, you weren’t being quiet,” he added levelly, but his voice seemed more forced than it had been before as did the lean toward her, which had seemed natural earlier, but now seemed like a calculated move.  “It’s almost like you wanted me to hear and comment.”

Marinette barely restrained her smirk at the difficulty he was having finding his composure.  She had to imagine he wasn’t used to getting flustered.  Men like him, hell, men far less attractive than him, were used to flustering everyone around them with just a smile, a raise of the eyebrow, a growl to their tone.  She was rather enjoying being one of the few who could fluster the pretty boy.  “I think you’ve confused me with one of your groupies.”

He quirked his head, almost like a confused lab.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Are you going to try to deny you have groupies,” Marinette laughed incredulously.

His eyes darted around rapidly.  He leaned away to give him a better vantage of the area.  “I don’t… have you… there aren’t any groupies here.  You can’t possibly have seen any.”  He froze and turned back to Marinette, all evidence of panic gone from his expression, but in its place was nothing.  No expression.  Completely neutral.  “I mean, what groupies?”

A bark of mirthless laughter burst out of her at his clearly accidental admission that she was absolutely correct in her assessment.  “I don’t have to see them to know they exist.”  A sad glint shone in her eyes for just a second before she quickly masked it with a mocking smile.  “They follow people like you around anywhere you go.  Making you feel prioritized.  Softening any blows…”

“I do have people who like to watch me, but not because I ask for it or encourage it,” he cut in, a crack in his neutral expression starting to show through.  “Hardly qualifies as ‘groupies’.”

She hummed critically.  “But that wasn’t the question.”

“Oh?  I must have forgotten.  What was the question again?” He leaned in closer to her, creating an intimate environment for them even in the midst of a crowded environment.

She let her eyes skirt over his face, taking in one frustratingly perfect detail after the next.  “It wasn’t whether you encouraged it, it was whether you think I’m one.”

He let his smile sneak up a bit more.  “A fan?”  She made a non-committal sound.  He quirked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow.  “You’re not?”

She pushed him away with a finger to his chest.  “Takes more than a pretty face, though I will admit yours is prettier than most.”

He let his lips quirk up in a devilish smile.  “You think my face is pretty?”

“I know your face is pretty,” she affirmed, voice bordering on annoyed.  “You know your face is pretty.  That’s why you have all the groupies.”

He hummed and took a long slow drink and settling it back on the bar with delicate precision before turning his attention back to her, smiling when he caught her eyes following each move.  “And here I thought it was my ass.”

She rolled her eyes as she picked up her drink.  “Well, it wasn’t for your humility,” she scoffed.

The self-assured smirk that seemed to have a home on his lips dropped and his whole aura changed.  Suddenly the boyish, teasing charm was gone replaced with a serious, almost pleading vulnerability.  “So, what does it take?”

She stared mute at him for a few seconds as her head tried to make sense of the complete turnaround in personality.  “What?”

“To get your attention,” he elaborated slowly.  His voice low and steady.  His eyes clear and sincere.  “What does it take to get you to give me a chance to show you how you deserve to be treated.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, caution overtaking her.  “And how’s that?”

His hand clenched on the bar next to her like he was holding himself back from grazing it along any part of her that she would let him touch.  As always, his eyes never left hers, meeting with such intensity, she almost had to lean away from him.  “Like you’re the most precious thing in this world or the next.  Like your every whim and thought is a precious gem that should be revered and honored.  Like your smile and laugh achieve such perfection wars could be fought over them.”

If she hadn’t been so unwillingly, intimately familiarized with the Game, she might have believed his genuine delivery.  It seemed so heartfelt, so genuine, because that’s how it was supposed to seem.  What was a lie worth if you weren’t going to sell it.  But even knowing that.  Even knowing that’s all it was, she still had to fight her heart fluttering at the words.  “Those are pretty words,” she clipped.  It had to be clipped because she didn’t trust her voice not to crack.

“They’re more than words,” he answered calmly, confidently, again so close to genuine, it hurt to hear them.  She couldn’t stop the bitter scoff that escaped her, but he didn’t even seem to notice it, or if he did, he ignored it.  “You never did answer.  What does it take?  What can I do?  What do you need?”

He leaned a bit closer with each question, but she backed away in equal measure.  She blinked at him, trying to process his words.  He was still working off a different book than the men she’d had the misfortune of interacting with before.  He was off script, and she didn’t know how to respond; what the correct response was that would result in him not vaporizing her heart with no more thought or guilt than destroying an alien in Space Invader.

She narrowed her eyes again, but this time in frustration rather than caution.  “I need someone who’s willing to put in the work and the devotion and the respect… and not just expect it only for themselves.  Someone who doesn’t think they deserve the world to lay down the red carpet for them because they have dimples.  I need someone who isn’t going to espouse pretty words to lure me into bed,” she hissed, no longer retreating, but leaning into his space with each sentence, like she was taking the fight to him instead of waiting for him to bring it to her.

“Words I know are false because you don’t know me.”  She shoved an accusatory finger toward his chest but stopped short of touching him.  “You have no idea how I deserve to be treated.  You certainly couldn’t have developed the sense that I’ve earned such devotion that you would never bestow anyway.  You literally just said you’d never seen my smile and yet you wax poetic about how revered it should be.  The only reason you would have for proclaiming it is to lull me into submission, to lower my walls so you can slither your way in.”

She braced herself for the anger she was sure was going to come, the lashing out at realizing his flirting hadn’t worked for him for once.  It didn’t usually take much provocation and Marinette had just provided plenty.  But instead, he watched her, almost contemplatively, a sad look flashing in his eyes moment before returning to the more neutral expression.

“You’re Marinette Dupain Cheng.  You’re best friends with Adrien Agreste and a particularly persistent reporter named Alya… something French, honestly, I’ve forgotten but she’s married to a DJ Duke loves.  You’re exceptionally creative, not just in designs, which are amazing, by the way, both clothes and art, but in engineering as well.

He chuckled mirthlessly and shook his head but immediately remet her eyes with understanding gaze.  “It’s an instinct I understand.”

“You’re fiercely protective of your friends and family,” he continued on, his voice strong and steady.  His eyes met hers like a comforting caress.  “You take care of everyone around you and take far too much on but still somehow power through.  But you never let anyone take care of you.  You could be drowning and would still insist you could swim without help.  A fact that has been taken advantage of more than a few times and chipped away at your trust so you push people away… no, that’s not right.  You don’t push them away.  You just never let them in in the first place, which isn’t anything Duke told me by the way, it’s just what I’ve observed.”

Marinette edged out of her seat until she was standing behind it, holding it between them, her eyes darting to where Adrien had already taken his seat and was trying to crane his neck to find Duke.  “How… how did you…”

The man raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly but by that time she was watching his every move, every breath intently.  “Sorry, I thought you might recognize me.  Duke is my brother.  He’s talked about you since he first met you the first week of junior year.  I’ve heard stories at least weekly since.

She shook her head absently, his words barely sinking in.  “Duke said nobody from his family was going to be able to make it…”

“Honestly, with as much as he’s talked about you and your guys’ sometimes legal adventures, I feel like I know you better than any of his friends that I’ve met and hung out with.  I…” he ran a hand through his perfectly tousled hair, which somehow made it even more annoyingly perfect.  “Earlier, I didn’t say I haven’t seen your smile, only that I haven’t seen it in person. Duke has shown me so many pictures and videos of you, I thought he might have shown you some of me as well.”

Dick chuckled self-deprecatingly.  “Nobody was supposed to be able to make it, which was ridiculous because there’s like ten of us and this is a big deal for him.  I couldn’t let him do this without at least one of us here to support him.  There were some things that could not be moved, but Steph and I were able to clear our schedules so we could be here.”

Marinette’s hard gaze softened but only slightly.  She continued to look at him intently, as though she could see through to his very soul.  But as she looked at him, she could see it now, the vague resemblance to the man in the pictures Duke had shown her periodically through the years.  He hadn’t shown her many, just as she hadn’t shown him many of her family, but just like she had talked about her parents, Duke had talked about him often.

Dick.  Duke’s pictures of him did not do him justice.  There was something about being in his presence, an aura that pictures didn’t convey.  It was an intangible feeling that overcame a person when his magnetic eyes met theirs, or maybe it was just her.  The way her heart sped up when he gave her that look made her heart somehow flutter and freeze at the same time.

She kept staring at him, trying to reconcile the man Duke had described with the man in front of her, the one who had been playing games, because that’s what he was doing, right?  He’s been playing the Game.  He hadn’t meant any of it… unless he had… unless the genuine delivery was because he had been genuine.  But that’s not how men like him operated… except for Adrien… and Duke… and Dick Grayson… at least according to Duke.

And this man somehow knew everything about her, even the parts she kept hidden far away from prying eyes, cradled and protected from getting battered any further like the Beast’s rose.  Yet he came in like Belle ripping away all of the protections she’d fought so long to preserve and threatening to expose them to the cruel, heartless world with kind eyes and a dimpled smile.

Her mental spiral was interrupted by a voice booming over the speakers.  “Next up to the mic, Duke Thomas.”

She took a sharp breath and shook her head.  “I need to go,” she mumbled as she turned to join Adrien, but even to her own ears, her voice sounded wooden, hollow.

Duke’s reading was brilliant, or at least Marinette assumed it was based on past experience and the crowd reaction.  She couldn’t say for certain herself.  The first part of his short performance went by in a blur, she chuckled and clapped whenever Adrien did, but always a few beats behind and with a dampened enthusiasm.

She shook herself out of her daze literally, jerking her head back and forth a few times as Duke continued.  The enthusiasm and passion behind every word quickly pulled Marinette out of her thoughts and into his world.  By the time he finished, Marinette was fully invested in his reading, the interaction at the bar nearly forgotten, just a soreness lingering around her heart like an echo, and she was able to cheer for him without prompting.

When the applause died down, Duke immediately made his way to Adrien.  His smile was brilliant and wide, warming the closer he moved to Adrien until it lit up the room when he reached him, which she was positive matched Adrien’s smile as well.  Honestly, a person could go blind hanging around them too often.

She watched with pride as he made the rounds through the crowd, everyone granting him a genuine smile and congratulations.  It was only then she realized she’d left their drinks and food at the bar earlier and she would really like one at that moment, again, more to have something to do with her hands than out of a need to drink.  Fiddling with a glass was a much more socially acceptable way to keep her hands occupied than ripping a napkin to pieces, which she was moments away from doing.

Duke settled into the seat next to her while she was distracted, not even bothering to hide his devious smirk when she jumped at finally noticing him.  “Sooo,” he started slowly.  He shot her a pointed look, a prompting look, a clear signal that he was waiting for her to finish the sentence correctly.

Marinette snickered and rolled her eyes.  “Sooo,” she repeated in the same tone and knocked her shoulder into his, “your performance was brilliant.  Your best yet.  You should put that in your portfolio.  I’d even consider submitting that to a publisher.”

He looked down and grinned shyly even as his chest puffed out.  “Thanks.  That means a lot to hear.”

She shook her head and took his drink from his hand, stealing a sip of his Greyhound instantly making a face as it burned her throat.  “Never order that again,” she gasped.

“Oh, so sorry for ordering a drink I like,” he chuckled.  “Next time I’ll make sure to get one you’ll like on the off chance you want a sip.”

She snorted and took another sip anyway.  “Off chance,” she mocked.

Duke barked out a laugh and grabbed his drink back with a shake of his head and a long sip.  He looked back up with a smile that put her on edge.  To anyone else, the smile would have been comforting in its apparent innocence, but Marinette knew him better.  She knew that angelic looking smile meant devilish intensions and braced herself with a defensive smile for whatever trouble was coming next. “But what I meant was, soooo I saw you chatting with Dick earlier.”

His tone was light, teasing, but her smile dropped instantly.  Her eyes darted away, focusing on anything but him… him or Dick.  “So it would seem,” she acquiesced warily.

He eyed her cautiously, not having expected that response.  Dick never got that response.  Everyone loved Dick.  Even people who didn’t want to date him loved him.  He would understand if Marinette didn’t want to date him, but for her to shut down when his name was mentioned, that either meant their chemistry was amazingly good or amazingly bad.  “How’d it go?”

“It went,” she granted, her eyes still not meeting his.

He hummed.  Dick either did something sexist and conceited, which was not like Dick, sure he could be a stubborn, single-minded jerk sometimes, but not like that.  Or, the more likely option, the connection was too good and she was scrambling.  “No sparks then?” he asked with a sympathy that almost came across as authentic and would have, to anyone but a best friend.

She finally turned back to meet his gaze with a deadpan look.  “Why?” her voice floated over to him saccharine sweet.  “Is your love life with Adrien that boring?  You’re checking into mine?”  She tutted a few times and sighed heavily, settling back in her chair.  “Honeymoon periods are so short these days.”

Duke rolled his eyes and shoved her hard enough to shift her in her chair.  “Our relationship isn’t boring, it’s committed and supportive and nurturing and comfortable… No!  comforting.”  He pursed his lips and groaned.  “No, you know what, it is comfortable.  A healthy relationship should make you feel comfortable, and I feel comfortable with him.  Bitch,” he added on at the end, but without any heat.  He looked back at her from the side, meeting her gaze for just a moment before they broke down into laughter.  It took a few moments before he settled back into his chair, his expression settling into a more contemplative look.  “I was just… I thought you two would be good together.”

She shifted uncomfortably, eyes back to scanning the room.  “And why is that?”

“I thought you’d be good for him,” he answered softly.

A scoff burst out before she could stop it, not that she would have wanted to.  She was already feeling exposed from her interaction earlier and this conversation felt like scratching at her raw nerves.  “Because I could keep him in line?  Maybe make him want to settle down?  Thanks for that,” she grumbled.

Duke scoffed this time.  “You know me better, please.  I wouldn’t wish that on you.”  He leaned forward, not into her direct line of sight, but enough that he made his presence known, looming but unthreatening.  “Dick has a tendency to forget to take care of himself.  He makes everyone else a priority.  I thought… you like to dote on the people you love and he needs that.  He’s a good man who loves to treat the people he’s with like they’re the most important people in the world, and you deserve that.  Especially after the last few guys you dated and how they behaved, how they treated you after the first few weeks… I thought you deserved someone like him.”

He turned his body toward her.  Even if she wasn’t looking at him, he wanted her to know she had his full attention.  Him encouraging her to consider Dick wasn’t a spur of the moment decision.  He’d thought this through… frequently.  “I understand if you’re not ready yet.  I just thought you might be good.  I’ve been talking you up to him since I met you.  He hasn’t had the best luck with relationships either.”

Marinette glared at a spot in front of her, her lips pulling down into a deep pout and her eyes darting to him until she rolled her eyes and huffed loudly.  “You are the worst best friend.  When you and Adrien get married, I'm standing up for his side.”

He grinned brilliantly and pulled her into a side hug.  “I’m telling Adrien you said I was your best friend,” he whispered before jerking away with a loud laugh.  He continued chuckling for a few moments and let his vision sweep over the crowd, his eyes warming upon settling on Adrien.  He continued to watch Adrien as he laughed, throwing his head back in glee.

His eyes darted over to her in a mirror of her actions from a few moments before but significantly more anxiously, like he was steeling himself for something.  “But… hopefully, you won't have to wait long,” he commented carefully.

She quirked her head, bringing her eyes back to him.  Her brow furrowed slightly as she contemplated his words and took in his stance.  Suddenly, his frame was tense.  Instead of slouching into his chair as he had been moments before, he was sitting up straight, spine stiff enough, a rod could have run straight through it.  “For what?” she asked cautiously.

He took a breath before answering.  “For the chance to follow through on your threat.”

Her expression was frozen for just a second as the words registered and her face broke out into a beaming smile and a squeal burst out loud enough to draw the attention of everyone within twenty feet of them as she launched into his arms.  “That’s so exciting!  I’m so happy for you!  Are you thinking of asking soon?  Did you just make the decision?  Do you know how you want to ask?  Have you made a plan?  Are you just going to wing it?  Don’t tell me if you’re going to wing it, it will give me anxiety.  Lie to me.  Do you need help planning the wedding?  What can I do?”

She fired off her questions faster than Duke could register them.  “Slow down,” he laughed.  He squeezed her again before letting her back up into her seat.  “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but yeah, I decided I wanted to ask him Wednesday after he fell asleep on my shoulder while we were watching the movie.”  He looked back at Adrien, giving him a sappy smile when Adrien looked back over and met his eyes for just a moment.

“I knew,” he continued, still watching Adrien like he hung the moon, “I wanted that for the rest of my life.  Just like that.  Forever.”

A noise rose from Marinette’s chest somewhere between a squeal and a squeak, her elation clear on her face.  “That is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard!  I want to see pictures.”  She suddenly sat up straight.  “Ooohhh, can we get Max to record it with a drone or hidden camera?  Or we can do a live feed.”

Duke chuckled and shook his head.  “I think it’s hilarious you think Tim won’t do that regardless of what I say.”

He continued to watch Adrien for a few more moments before turning back to her with a sobered expression.  The change concerned her, especially when he took her hand to encourage her to look back at him.  “I know I wouldn't be here without you so... thank you.  Thank you for introducing us and…” he took a deep breath, “for walking away when you knew it was wrong.  For breaking both your hearts so they could be put together stronger. I know it was incredibly hard and yours hasn't been fully yet."

He opened his mouth then closed it to think through what he had to say. His eyes flicked to hers seeming to hesitate for a second before continuing.  “That's why... I think Dick can help you with that.”

She blinked at him for a second before bursting out in laughter.  “You know, Alya has said the same thing more than once.”

He groaned and rolled his eyes.  He dropped her hand, shoving it away in mock disgust.  “Okay, I meant he would be gentle with your heart and protect it, which you deserve, but you know what?  Dick would have made the same joke, so clearly you two have the same sense of humor.  So, I was right and you two are annoyingly perfect for each other.”

She hummed in response and let her eyes wander back to where Adrien was laughing with Dick and a one of her and Duke’s university friends.  Dick flicked his eyes over to them for just a second, just long enough to catch her gaze with a small, guilty smile, before returning his focus to Adrien.

Adrien was laughing at something Dick had said hard enough he had bent over to catch his breath.  Adrien loved to laugh.  His laughter was one of her favorite sounds maybe because it so rare growing up.  She was fortunate enough to get to hear it often now.  But laughter like that?  Marinette hadn’t seen him laugh like that in a long time and the sight warmed her heart.  “I'll think about it,” she agreed quietly.

Duke nodded and kissed her head with an understanding smile.  “Love you,” he murmured into her hair before he disappeared into the crowd, heading straight toward Adrien.  Marinette let herself space out for a few moments until the noise around her became too much.  She needed just a bit of space to breathe and think.  This night was not at all what she had prepared herself for and she needed a break to ease the weight of it from compressing her mind.  She saw a door to the small patio behind the club and darted out to it.

As soon as the door closed behind her, the cacophony of noises muted, and she let herself breathe and think of nothing for a few seconds, but it didn’t take long for her thoughts to drift back to the bar.

Dick had been nothing but polite, and a bit playful, to her and she’d been cold and cutting.  And, if she trusted Duke, Dick hadn’t deserved it.  Duke had never said anything negative about Dick.  Duke complained about all of his family at length, but never Dick.  Well, that wasn’t exactly true.  He did complain about him, but it was always a backhanded insult; a compliment masquerading as an insult.

If she were as brave as she pretended to be, she would go back in there and apologize and ask for a second chance.  The very idea terrified her.  Not the apology, the stuff that comes after.  Because if she truly meant the apology, then she would need to be more open to him.  Let him move the protections she’d rooted into the ground and expose her heart.  What an absolutely horrific idea.

She shivered at the thought and vaguely realized a bit because of the cold.  She hadn’t brought a jacket or sweater, it wouldn’t work with the outfit, and hadn’t expected to be outside for this long.  She got up to go back inside but froze when she saw Dick push through the doors.

He froze as well as soon as he saw her.  “Hey, I didn't mean to interrupt but you've been out here for a while and it’s been a bit chilly at night lately so I brought you a hoodie.”  Even if she hadn’t been able to detect the anxiety in his voice, there was no way to miss it in the way he nervously shuffled as he held out the hoodie for her and the vulnerability in his eyes.

She looked from it to him a few times, but it must have taken her a bit too long to reach for it because he suddenly dropped his hand holding the hoodie while the other flew to the back of his neck.  “It’s Duke’s!” he added quickly, the pronouncement coming out much louder than he had intended.  “Not… I wouldn’t have given you mine.  Not that I have one, but I wouldn’t have given you my jacket.  Not because I wouldn’t want… I just figured you wouldn’t…”

He groaned and ran his hand over his face.  “What is wrong with me?” he muttered to himself.

“It’s okay,” she assured him.

He took a deep breath and forced it out slowly, finally lifting his eyes to her again before continuing in a much more collected manner.  “I know you don’t know me and don’t trust me so it would be really inconsiderate and rude to have brought you mine.  That’s all I meant.”  He set the hoodie onto the table next to her with a small smile and immediately took a step back.  “Well, like I said, didn't mean to interrupt so I'll leave you to your thoughts.”

She watched him take a few steps before calling out to him and taking the hoodie tentatively, like an inadequate peace offering and pulled it over her outfit.  “I meant it's okay if you want to join me.”

He immediately stopped and smiled brightly but his bright smile quickly faltered.  There was nothing in her expression or posture that suggested she didn’t mean what she had said, in fact they indicated complete honesty and openness.  But there was still a hint of something behind her eyes, a tentativeness that he could just barely detect, but once you saw it, you couldn’t unsee it.  “Are you sure?  I really meant it.  I didn't come out here to interrupt.  If you’d prefer time to yourself…”

She chuckled and shook her head, looking up toward the sky as though she could somehow see the stars through the light pollution, but he could still see the hint of a smile on her lips.  “No, it's fine.  Duke says you're a good guy, and I trust Duke so…”  Dick nodded and sat next to her, close enough to create an intimate atmosphere, but not so close he was crowding her.  “And I may have heard a lot about you over the years too.  So… perhaps my initial judgement was a bit hasty and the way I treated you was completely unjustified… perhaps.”

Dick grinned brilliantly but soon schooled his smile into a softer version.  He nodded and looked up at the sky as well.  “I trust Duke too, so we know we have one thing in common.”  Marinette snorted and opened her mouth but quickly snapped it shut and turned away before he could see her blush, but Dick turned to her a bit too quickly, catching it just in time.  His eyes twinkled at seeing her cheeks brushed with pink and snickered.  “Oh, come on, you can't do that.  Now you need to tell me!”

She groaned and somehow, the blush got deeper and spread to her neck so beautifully, Dick had to stop himself from reaching out to brush his fingers over the blush.  She groaned and dropped her head, oblivious to his stare.  It took a few moments before she looked at him from the corner of her eye.  “He says we have the same sense of humor too.”

Dick raised an eyebrow and grinned wickedly.  “With a blush like that, I have to assume you said something to do with my name.”  When she groaned again and covered her face with her hands, sleeves flopping loosely over her hands, his grin widened, a hearty laugh booming from his chest.  “Come on,” he exclaimed, opening his arms wide to her, “let me have it.  I've heard them all, I guarantee you.  I could even tell you some.”

Marinette shook her head and lowered her hands just enough to look up at him with a bemused smile.  She opened her mouth but closed it again quickly and took a breath to fortify herself before she answered.  “He just mentioned…” she started hesitantly, “that maybe I could use a little dick in my life.  And I may have laughed and told him that's not the first time I've heard that.”

Dick's face scrunched up, his eyes not quite looking at her.  Marinette's hands and smile dropped instantly.  She knew she shouldn’t have said that.  It was so incredibly rude.  He said he could take it, but everyone thinks they can take something before they hear it.  Damn it!  She was supposed to be trying to make up for her previous behavior, not behave worse.  “I mean!” she exclaimed anxiously trying to backpedal.

“I have to say, I'm not a huge fan of the descriptor,” Dick mused. “Maybe prefer a different one.  Like ‘huge’.  That’s a good word.”

A snicker burst out from Marinette and continued as she broke down in laughter.  When the laughter finally subsided, she looked over at him, a brilliant smile on her lips, to find him watching her with a lopsided grin.  “That's the first time I've made you really smile.”

Marinette looked away and pulled her lower lip between her teeth.  “First time?” she asked, hope eking through in her tone.  Maybe she hadn’t messed up their second chance.  Maybe there was still a shot.

He grinned at her.  “And hopefully not the last,” he offered quietly.  He looked at her softly for a moment until a look of determination crossed his face.  “I want you to know, I am willing to put in the work.  I don’t expect you to do it all, just meet me halfway.”

She nodded absently.  “I’m willing to try.  I’ll try not to let my past experiences affect ours.”  She cut off suddenly and looked away.  “I… I can’t promise how well I’ll do.  But I’ll try.”

Dick ducked down to meet her eyes despite her determination to avoid his gaze, but he stayed in that position, waiting until she was ready.  “I’m a patient man.  I can wait for you.”

His patience was finally rewarded when her eyes shot over to his.  “You’re not real,” she scoffed.

He chuckled but immediately met her eyes again with a soft, non-confrontational gaze and raised his arm in front of her.  “Want to pinch me, just to make sure?”

She hummed and ran her fingers down his arm to his hand and threaded her fingers between his instead, not missing the way his smile widened at her boldness.  “You should know, I can be stubborn.”

His smile brightened at her olive branch and settled their entwined hands between them.  “I can be determined,” he offered in the same tone.

“I can be anxious,” she countered.

“I can be soothing.”

She looked away for a moment and pursed her lips in faux contemplation.  “I can be… loyal.”

He chuckled and pulled her hand onto his leg as he scooted just a bit closer.  “I can be insecure,” he admitted.

“I can be supportive.”

He nodded and quirked his lips to the side, eyes narrowing.  “I can over commit until I’ve stretched myself so thin I let everyone down,” he commented, entirely too casually for the content of his statement.

She snorted and looked away, but she leaned closer to him and her grip on his hand never slackened.  “Mood.  I guess that’s something we would have to work on.”

He nodded.  “At least we’ll know the signs.”  He cocked his head and shot her a bright smile.  “I like learning about you.  You were right before, I may know a lot about you, but I don’t know you.  I would like to change that though.”

She nodded.  “I think I’d like that too.”

His grin widened.  “Yeah?”

She nodded, her smile stretching to match his and God, if his eyes kept sparkling like that, her heart was going to stop beating.  “Yes,” she confirmed.

“How about I try again tomorrow night?  Is that too soon?  We can…”

“Dick!”  She waited until he’d stopped and faced her before continuing.  She snickered at his rambling.  Usually, it was her doing the rambling and everyone else watching on in bemusement.  She didn’t get to be the one on this side often… or ever.  “I’d love if we could try again and go out tomorrow.”

“Do you want to head back in?” he asked, nodding toward the patio doors.  “It looked like you were headed that direction when I came out.”

She looked over her shoulder for a few seconds but met his eye with a hopeful glint.  “I was only going in because I was so cold, but as soon as I thought it, there you were with a hoodie and a smile.”  She shook her head and let out a huff of air.  “I think that can be considered a sign that I’m right where I should be.  Unless you’d like to…”

“No!” he cut in.  “No,” he continued quieter, “I think Duke will understand if I miss a bit of his party.”  He scooted closer to her and tentatively set his arm behind her, relaxing into it when she smiled up at him.  “I’m right where I want to be.”

@maribat-calendar-events

#maribat #Dickinette #Dickinette February #Prompt - heart #Meet Too Cute

[arogustus]

Splatband Analysis - SashiMori

(Disclaimer: This analysis is based on what I get out of looking into the character descriptions we have of the splatband characters. If you disagree with what I say, that is fine, we are all beheld to our opinions. Just don't be a jerk about it.)

SashiMori. The band best known for several things. Giving us the dopest trailer of Splatoon 2, having Da Boy, Paul, as a member, and of course the ever present mystery of the mysterious former lead singer. Let’s talk about them.

The band

SashiMori started life as a loud rock band, Ryu-Chang, Karla and Taichi alongside the mysterious vocalist. According to Taichi’s descriptions, it seems he’s the one who founded the band in the first place, but lost control of it to their self-centered, authoritarian vocalist. We have yet to learn the identity of this strange, mysterious person… but we’re pretty sure it’s Pearl. Like, it’s mentioned in Karla’s section in Haikara Walker that the vocalist of the band before SashiMori (the context here either means a different band they were in or SashiMori itself before they took on the name, it’s vague) had vocals so strong only they were capable of handling it. We know Pearl was a death metal artist who wrecked her venues a lot, and it’s not a guess to say she was probably a lot more domineering before meeting Marina. They actually asked Nogami himself about this fact, and said it was up to our imagination. That’s just a roundabout way of saying “yes, but we’re not gonna tell you that.”

Eitherway, the other three kicked their vocalist and stuck together as an instrumental band before deciding to search for a new one. Clearly the three were close enough that they willingly stuck together and united against a common foe in order to keep playing without problems. So, they put out an application of fish Twitter, and that’s where Paul comes in. They laughed at first, seeing such a smol bean trying to join the big leagues. But once he wowed them, they made him the centerpiece of the band's sound, and SashiMori was born.

They also got to make an appearance in the White Day artwork, chilling with the homies of Bottom Feeders and Hightide Era. Well, all but one of them. You’ll see why in a bit.

Ryu Chang

Our big man Ryu is first. He’s a carp who grew up in a prestigious home at the base of Mount Nantai (another Pearl reference, seriously), who became a punk during his teen years and an established drummer after that. He was 35 in Splatoon 2, and that back in 2018, meaning he should be at least 41 by now (we are growing ever older every day). There isn’t much of a description of what he’s like now, but he did have a rebellious teenager phase at least, so it’s likely all that punk ideology stuff has carried on into adult life. He illustrates as a hobby, and created the little mascot you see in SashiMori’s album art, Mr. Wasabi. Wonder what the little guy is about.

He’s got a Rainmaker team going on with Kuze and Blow, Underpass Bass Drum, so he’s active in the Turfing scene. And as we established, the two also showed up in the Deep Sea Metro concert to perform for a bit. One thing I wanna note is that it’s considered an impromptu performance. They didn’t plan to perform together at the place, which begs the question: what were they doing in the Deep Sea Metro? Were they simply attending and got dragged on stage… wait, actually that makes sense. 

He’s kinda hard to read in the White Day Art. He’s sitting with Blow and Taka, and we know he’s friends with Blow. The only other thing to tell is that he’s very much watching Finn and Tangle fight, but his eternal fish face makes it hard to tell what he feels about it. Concern? Annoyance? Attraction? Who knows.

Karla

Karla is a mystery. They’re very quiet, their age is a mystery, and no one even knows how they eat! Well, actually, according to science, the Scaly-Foot Gastropod doesn’t eat at all, but rather relies on symbiosis with bacteria living inside them to get nutrition. Sooo, yeah, lady just doesn’t eat anything. Neat. 

That’s what their description focuses on, being very quiet and mysterious. Doesn’t even respond to questions during interviews, just goes “...” and that’s it. Obviously no indication that they outright can’t talk, just that they rarely do. They’re the silent type, maybe out of shyness, maybe because they just don’t have much to say, or maybe a third thing. At least it’s stated they don’t have bad intentions, so you know, they’re not evil. 

Fun fact, Karla’s design is actually reused from an old concept for one of the Denizens of the Deep that would show up in the train. While that is concept stuff that didn’t make it in, and doesn’t mean that them being from the Metro is true, the evidence does point to it being a possibility. Would certainly explain their quirks.

Out of the four, Karla doesn’t show up in the White Day artwork. Finn is there, and she’s (evidently) female, so that wasn’t really a reason to stop them from showing up. Maybe they were hiding out of frame? Maybe they took the picture? Or maybe they’re just asocial and didn’t want to come hang. 

Taichi Sawaberu

Taichi is, as can be inferred from the text, the founder of the band. He created SashiMori cause he wanted to add singing to his music after mostly being an instrumentalist, which as we can tell didn’t end well. Is the most experienced member of the band, being an experienced studio musician and all, so he’s been in the business for a while. He also has a lot of activities outside of the band. Hobbies most likely. You know, stuff like surfing, competitive knitting, high stakes bingo, whatever other kinds of hobbies exist. He must get out a lot. 

Compared to the other two, he wasn’t fond of Paul at first. He thought he was, to quote, “tiny and awful.” Now, it’s hard to say if this actually applies to Paul for real, as from what we see, nothing really indicates him being an awful kid in any way. He did change his mind after a while, at least, so maybe he was just projecting onto him? If the Pearl theory is correct, it would actually make sense that he was projecting onto Paul his last experience with a small person. His opinion must be a lot more positive now.

We see in the White Day artwork that he’s having a spirited conversation with Nishida. Far as we know, Nishida is pretty introverted, so Taichi must have somehow gotten through to him. What they’re talking about is unknown, but let’s just place this as Taichi x Nishida friendship (wow!)

Paul

Autism be damned, that octo boy can work a turntable. Paul is the highlight of SashiMori, a ten year old octoling who’s the replacement of the previous singer. Instead of singing, though, he provides vocals by remixing them from whatever sources he’s got, including ancient human vinyls. He’s a DJ like most octolings, but he’s actually labeled a particular type of DJ. A turntablist, to be precise. 

I’m gonna give thanks to @porubiteki, a moot of mine who knows a ton about DJ stuff and did all this research well before I decided to do this series. A Turntablist is a type of DJ specializing in manipulating music in real time. It’s basically the record scratching you see TV DJ’s do, but far more focused on compared to other forms of DJing. You actually hear that a lot in SashiMori’s music, which features it far more than any other of the Splatoon DJ’s. It’s also a well respected title in the DJ world due to how difficult it is to master the technique, and considering how Paul is highlighted as highly talented to the point of wowing three experienced musicians, it's safe to say he’s worthy of the title. 

Personality wise, we don’t get too much. What we know is he remixes from a lot of other DJs, meaning he’s a fan of any DJ’s work. As highlighted above, he is very talented, which can only come from extensive work on his craft, especially for someone his age. Taichi thought of him as “tiny and awful”, but if the Pearl theory applies, it’s likely he was projecting onto Paul for being small. We see him playing chess, and humiliating his opponent Jawn in the process, so his smarts extend outside of DJ work too. Also, it’s well known that child prodigies tend to be a lot more mature for their ages, so it’s likely he might have some of those traits.

And now for the big question. Are he and Acht related or not? It’s a common question asked due to the fact he wears a beanie with a tag that has the same logo as DJ Def1sh, a crude doodle of an octopus face. Haikara Walker itself brings up the question, in the same paragraph as Acht’s potential relation to Marina. Specifically, they might be blood relatives, or just follow the same brand. Side Order revealed the Marina thing to be true… and it didn’t reveal anything about Paul. You had one job, Nintendo. 

While Karla is the one with the “mysterious past”, Paul here is probably the one where the trope fits the most. It’s because his existence raises a lot more questions than it answers. Regardless of what his relation to Acht is, it’s clear from that that he’s from the domes. So, what’s a kid his age doing on the surface? When did he get there? The fact he had a Squid Twitter account implies he’s been around long enough to get familiar with all that stuff. Why is he even on fish Twitter anyway? Doesn’t he know that shit can traumatize even adults? Does he have parents? If not, has he been homeless the entire time before meeting SashiMori? Cause a kid doesn’t just show up to a band audition without at least some implication of family having taken him there. Questions and questions. Where is he now? Nintendo, please, tell us where our boy is, WE BEG Y-

—

And that does it for SashiMori. We are now left with three bands. Hightide Era, Chirpy Chips and ω-3. 

#splatoon #splatbands #splatband analysis #sashimori #ryu chang #karla #taichi sawaberu #dj paul #my work #i'm back baby

[inariter]

Stay With Me-6

Masterlist:

Stay With Me-1

Stay With Me-2

Stay With Me-3

Stay With Me-4

Stay With Me-5

Stay With Me-6

A million thoughts ran through OA’s head as he listened to Maggie’s words. It felt like his entire world was going in slow motion as he held his breathe. He could feel the panic that coursed through his veins. His gaze falling on (Y/n)’s resting body, trying to wrap his mind around it all.

“We’re still hunting him down but Jubal says you need to stay by her side.” OA knew that Jubal was right, he knew that there was too many conflicts of interest. That he could easily loose his cool if he was involved.  

“Okay...okay.”

“We’re going to find this guy.” Maggie told him, in some way to reassure him. But he knew until they caught the guy and he was locked away, there was no way he could relax, much less be assured for the better. 

Especially after the information Maggie began to give him, there had actually been two more shootings. One before Maggie gave him a call and another shortly after. Five more victims were added to the tally, all hit in the exact same place. All hospital workers. An organized crime with intended purposes and targets. 

“As soon as anything else happens, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks Maggie.”

Anytime.” They were partners, they had each other’s back. But even now, it was hard to help. “How is she doing?”

“She’s out of the woods now. But she hasn’t woken up yet.”

“She will. She’s gotten through the worse of it.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m hoping for.” Sighing, OA ended the call, turning his attention back to (Y/n). He sat down next to her bed, holding her hand. The times he wished he could have done this very thing, almost too many to recount. “I love you (Y/n). I want to tell you face to face. I want to ask you on a date or do so much. So just open your eyes, alright?”

                                                 ----------------

She knew this sight well, a dreary atmosphere that settled over the waiting room. She could see the worried etched on their faces as they all try to cope with their loss. Trying to keep it all together, to not let the tears or any other emotions show.

“She’s in good hands.” (Y/n) said, breaking the silence as their eyes fell on her. Confusion turned to recognition, seeing she was the first to attend to Kristen as soon as she came rolling through the ER doors. (Y/n) started working fast, doing what she could with her skill set before calling the trauma specialist, one more skilled in such matters. Even despite her own capabilities, she wasn’t going to let pride or arrogance prevent them from saving a life. “Our best trauma specialist is operating on her now, the odds are in favor.”

“How can you be so sure?” OA asked, standing up to meet her. He towered over (Y/n) given the difference in their builds. Yet she didn’t cower or stand down. She looked him straight on, a small yet knowing smile on her lips. 

“I know how good my colleagues are. But I’m saying this for reassurance, I know you all need some right now.” He could only guess how many scenes she seen like this. How many times she needed to break the news to friends and family. 

He knew, she didn’t have to do this. To come out and personally meet them, to try and ease their worries. She probably had another case or had something better to do.

Yet (Y/n) made the time to do this. Just for them. He found it touching.

“Look, you’ll hear more soon. But you all at least should have heard this.” She gave them all a small smile, before beginning to walk away. Tossing OA a snack in the process. “Name is (Y/n) by the way. Keep your head high, cause I have high hopes your friend will be fine.”

As she walked away, her smile grew, thinking back to OA. He easily caught her eye without even speaking. Her eyes had landed on him from the moment she looked at them from the end of the hall. Wondering when would be the next time they could see one another.

Something that would be sooner than she realized. Unaware he happened to be thinking something similar.

Days passed when she went about her daily routine when she was greeted with a familiar face standing in the lobby. Looking a little lost to say the least.

“Oh, agent, what brings you here?”

“Looking for you actually.” Oa smirked a little, twisting the ring on his finger as he walked closer to her. “I just wanted to say thanks. Kristen turned out just fine like you said.”

“And why are you thanking me?”

“You didn’t have to come and talk to us. You didn’t have to do anything but your job.”

“It was nothing. I’ve seen enough people like you and your friends to know they need something. Even the smallest bit helps.”

“Thank you for doing that. It did help. And thanks for granola bar.”

“Anytime.” (Y/n) said, giving him a small smile. Before her pager went on, signaling her that she was needed elsewhere. “Well, that’s my call.”

“Could I take you to lunch?” OA asked, calming his nerves enough to blurt out the question. He wasn’t why he felt as nervous as he did. Nor why he was even at the hospital to begin with. He just knew he ended up here, talking with (Y/n) and now asking her to a meal. His heart beating loud against his chest as he awaited her answer. 

“How about dinner tonight? I can go after my shift.”

“Sure...sure. That works.”

“Good, I’ll meet you here at 7 o’clock, tonight.” Her pager once again beeps. “Until then agent.”

With that, (Y/n) ran off to her job, OA watching her as her figure disappeared. Unable to shake the smile on his lips, wondering how or why she even agreed to begin with. 

But it was something. It was something for sure. 

                                                 ----------------

Something was wrong, he knew it even before he opened his eyes. Before he looked around the hospital room. His instincts were screaming at him, telling him to move fast, to get up and grab the closest thing near him. And hearing his ringtone stop and go again didn’t help much.

Yet before he could make a move, before he could answer his phone, he heard a gun cock followed by a voice. 

“Don’t move or I’ll shoot you both.” 

#fbi #fbi x reader #OA Zidan #oa zidan x reader #Maggie Bell #Isobel #Jubal Valentine #Scola #Tiffany #romance #angst

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Different Kind Of Runway ✨ | Reuben “Payback” Fitch Headcanon

Link to my TGM masterlist

Lt. Reuben “Payback” Fitch married to a supermodel would look like:

Believe it or not, Reuben is quite the fashion guy and how y’all met was cause he managed to go to New York Fashion Week due to his sister being a makeup artist. She had him as her plus one and they both got to attend one of the after parties. It was at the party you met Reuben and he of course knew your face—-you had captivated him on the runway that day when you walked for Tommy Hilfiger.

Spotting his sister, who had done your makeup for the show, you sped over to say hi which is where she introduced you to the man who would become your husband. When you saw him the first thing you thought was, “wow.” He was TALL and you are quite the tall girl yourself (which was how you got scouted at 17 standing at 5’11) but he was taller and the finest man you’d ever seen—and you’ve dated male models before.

“Y/n, I’d like you to meet my brother, Lt. Reuben Fitch. Rue this is Y/n L/n.” “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am. I’m Reuben.” Before you knew it you two had talked all night way past the party ending and had went to a bar to continue to the conversation. You found out he was a Naval aviator with a call sign called ‘Payback,’ and stationed at NAS Oceana in Virginia.

“Payback? That’s kinda badass—how’d you get that name?” “Well in flight school I sorta..intentionally made someone buy a round for everyone in a bar but I felt bad and paid them back.” “And here I thought it was because you know how to get revenge if someone wrongs you.” “Well I can do that too.”

You both knew that night you’d want to continue getting to know one another, so you exchanged numbers and planned a date. Being based in New York meant you didn’t have to travel far to see him and vice versa. On weekends he’d come to New York or if you had a week off from shoots you’ll drive to Virginia. Your relationship was like that, and then when you got married you moved in with him but traveled whenever you booked a gig or show.

Reuben is that husband who if he comes with you to a shoot or show he’s taking pics and videos of you on his phone. Sometimes he’ll copy your poses to make you laugh, which the photographer loves when they want some candid shots. Expect to hear him go, “woooork. Yes ma’am, give me face. Show me your best Vogue.” Sometimes the photographer will ask him to join and Reuben will throw you over his shoulder and spin you around in a fit of giggles. Dip you before kissing you, hold you bridal style, and of course do some model poses with your help.

Whenever you are featured on the cover of a magazine like Vogue, Playboy, Sports Illustrated or Variety Payback collects them and will have at least one of them in his office. His coworkers are always like eye boggling it then they see the wedding photo next to it and are like “Holy shit….Payback got GAME.” But who could be surprised, mans is like sex on legs it’s no surprise he and his wife are the hottest couple on the planet.

Because of his job he can’t go to every show or fashion week, but he always tries to make time for NYFW since it’s sentimental to y’all. Paris, Milan, and London are rare but he has attended them once or twice, especially to see you walk Versace, Prada, & Fendi. He doesn’t embarrass you by cheering but he will pull out his phone to record you and just beam at you like a kid spotting the toy he wants for Christmas in the window of a store.

After about 5 years of marriage and 15 years of modeling you had finally achieved the status of Supermodel and had won the award of Model of the Year a couple times—becoming one of the highest paid in the industry with a staple walk that had designers booking you left and right. Unlike most models, you didn’t really attend award shows when you were invited, although you did go to the Met a few times and had Reuben as your plus one whenever you did. You were a very reserved and private person despite your public status & thankfully paparazzi who followed you were unable to get on base. This definitely came in handy when Payback was called back to Top Gun for a special mission.

When the team arrived on base for the first day of training—you had opted out of going to the bar the night before—all were confused as fuck by the crowd of cars and cameraman waiting at the visitors center. “Did the base commander die or is the president flying in?” Hangman chuckled as they took their seats. Fanboy smirked, patting Rueben’s chest, “nah it’s for his woman.”

You’d known Mickey since he and Reuben were assigned together at NAS Oceana. The two of you were as close as siblings with Mickey even coming out to support you at shows when Reuben asked him to tag along. He did fanboy like his call sign and was embarrassed to admit he did follow you on social media, which you found amusing and told him it was nothing to be embarrassed about.

The second the words left Mickey’s mouth everyone turned in their seats to look at Reuben. “Who’s your woman, Payback?” Coyote questioned, and before Reuben could answer he was cut off by Nat’s gasp, her phone in her hand as she pulled up his instagram. “You’re married to supermodel Y/n L/n!!”

You can imagine the questions your poor hubby was bombarded with. And then when he finally introduced you the day everyone went to the beach you knew they were all gonna be a part of your life forever. After the mission concluded you both kept in touch with the squad and would meet up throughout the year.

They like to joke how you are like them just you walk a different type of runway. “Hey, the jet basically struts down the runway like you when it takes off….only its pulling hundreds of miles per hour.”

Whenever y’all go out you get hit on, it’s a common occurrence and usually they back off when they see your ring or Reuben comes in sizing the dudes up. But the best is when you and Phoenix are getting borderline harassed when y’all are sitting down and you give Nat a look. She knows what’s about to happen and gets her phone ready to capture the reaction of the asshole when you stand up, in heels which make you over 6ft and look down on him. Then Reuben, Bob and Rooster come up behind you which has the dude scurry off. Nothing punches an insecure mans ego than when you size them up.

A favorite memory of yours was inviting all of them, including Mav, to the Calvin Klein show you were opening and having to get them all styled with your team. It was such beautiful chaos in the hotel suite with the guys and Phoenix having to get fitted before being hauled into hair and makeup. You had time before you were called to the venue for your own glam and dress, so for your entertainment you vlogged the whole scene. “Javy, could you please tell the people who and what you’re wearing for tonight’s show.” “Well we got the custom Calvin fit going on, curtesy of Mr. Calvin Klein himself. The suit is the finest material you’ll ever see, leather shoes and oh! —can’t forget the shades so the paps are unable to my eyes.”

“Phoenix, you look gorgeous—can you tell us a bit about your outfit?” “It’s a little chilly in New York so your team was kind to give me this beautiful Calvin Klein dress with some knee high boots and matching coat. I actually feel like a movie star—wow *laughs* is it always like this?” “Trust me when I say one can never really get used to it. If someone says so they are lying.”

Before every show Reuben gives you a kiss and tells you to keep your head high and work that runway like it’s your own personal stage. You are so grateful to have found a man who supports you and anytime you walk a show at NYFW you can’t help but wonder how lucky you are that your dream job brought you to your dream man. It’s funny how you both have a runway in your jobs that are an essential part, though it is a different type of runway 😉

……………..

Tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan , @caitsymichelle13 , @poppyalice2001 , @cutelittlepotatofry

#payback #payback headcanon #payback imagine #payback x reader #jay ellis #Reuben fitch imagine #Reuben fitch x reader #Reuben fitch headcanon #top gun maverick headcanon #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick #reuben fitch #reuben payback fitch #Reuben payback fitch headcanon

[msmargaretmurry]

I love the idea of a celebrity demonstration! Show how hard it is to do what these guys do! I also think the major issue really is that what players want to do and what fans want to see are usually very different.

I also think that the nhl likely did ask teams with players that couldn’t attend about replacements but they probably said no. I know that happened last year with the Kraken where guys just wanted to go on vacation. I really wish more players would contribute when asked about the asg. Because the articles have said that the league reached out to a couple of star players and it sounds like Connor was one of the only ones who really contributed. And while I like Connor, of course his ideas are just pure hockey skills.

I think one way to fix some of the annoying domination from one team or another is having fans vote for the player representative of their team and the league picks out the star players. That way fans can vote in their favorite guys but no team is crazy over represented. It feels like a real missed opportunity not to have more guys participating in the giant skills competition first. You could make it so there are 3 preliminaries and everyone participates in 1 or 2 of the 3 so everyone gets to see their guys. And then you just eliminate each round till you have like 5 guys in whatever the final comp is. And each skills competition in itself gets a winner.

And there should be some sort of time served exception where if you’ve been to 3 or more all star games, you decline without punishment. That way guys going might be a little more excited and you’d get to see new people.

yes i completely agree that a significant issue is what the players want to do vs what's most entertaining for many fans. i tried to touch on that in my little ramble but i don't know how coherent it was 😅 something like celebrity demonstrations imo would add a bit of that entertainment factor without putting it on players' shoulders. i think there's a really interesting thread here about how so many hockey players are uncomfortable with stepping out of the "athlete" box and into the "entertainer" box, even though sports are literally the entertainment industry (and they're not the only athletes that resist this, but it feels particularly prevalent in hockey) but i am not going to try to interrogate it before i've had my coffee 😂

100% correct on the league asking for replacements and guys saying no. as should be their right! they've already planned vacations! and i mean like, you could easily cut down on the danger of losing representation from a team by inviting two guys from more teams instead of 4-5 from two teams. but there is definitely a problem with guys simply not wanting to go. if my choices were "long tropical vacation with my friends and family" and "three days in toronto to play 20 minutes of hockey" i too would opt for the former. not including everyone in the skills comp imo MORE of a disincentive than the previous format.

i like the idea of individual event champions and an all-around skills champ -- like gymnastics! i do think there is a time constraint issue with trying to put together a fair competition that involves all of the players. in the past sometimes there have been individual event incentives -- break 100mph on hardest shot and win money for the charity of your choice, etc. (also i would MUCH rather see these guys battling to win money for charity than hear about how winning that extra million is soooo motivating 🙄)

as many issues i have with the execution of connor mcdavid's saw trap of a skill comp, i DO think it's good that he got involved! kinda side-eyeing guys who were asked and didn't get involved tbh! building an event that both players and fans can love will need to involve player voices AND fan voices, and all respect to connor's efforts but he is not representative of an average nhl player or even an average-good player, and he certainly cannot comprehend the mind of an average viewer. he's in a class of his own, as a player and with the kind of personal leverage and security he has in the sport.

anyway this is why i never got mad at ovi's habitual "oh the asg is coming up? alas, i am conveniently lightly ill or injured, guess you'll have to take someone else from my team" after he'd been a bunch of times. that's how caps fans got the absolute delight of kuzy at the asg, and how tom got his first all star nod and got to be wonderfully surprised by how welcoming the other players were to him! and then when the asg was somewhere fun and vacationy (south florida) ovi was like, yes i will make one more appearance so my son can experience the asg. i think that kind of agency is good for players! ("agency" here used loosely, since he did have to sit for a game every time he dipped out of his all-star nod. but a) he was a big enough star to get away with it and b) his organization clearly supported his decisions, which is not a luxury all players have. the league did NOT like when he did this but i support players being able to say fuck off to the league!)

i don't think it's a coincidence that many of the most memorable fun asg moments in recent memory have been ones where players and/or fans took initiative to make the weekend their own in ways that went outside of the nhl-prescribed box (e.g. ovi and geno's big reunion, ovi begging to be picked last in the draft, the john scott of it all -- even leon's "i'd get off the ice" bit and the ensuing drama kind of falls into this category for its unscriptedness imo, although it is the closest to an nhl-approved storyline of the moments that come to mind.)

lmao this is so long sorry. in my defense the metro keeps fucking holding between stations so i am stuck underground with nothing better to do. but obviosuly i don't have all the answers for fixing the asg from a player buy-in perspective OR a fan experience perspective, i just think it's a really interesting and frustrating problem!

#ask #nhl asg #hockey for ts #lmao as i was typing that last paragraph my metro train declared itself out of service and made us all get off #so i'm gonna go figure that out i guess!!! #i need coffee so bad #also there is a middle school field trip on the train. nightmare scenario

[all-the-things-2020]

Late Night Talking - Chapter Nine

Summary: Things don’t go as well when Em takes her turn at Dieter’s new game, and angst ensues.

Rating: R (reference to sexual acts and several f-bombs)

Word Count: 6500

My own attempt at the game was not as successful as Dieter’s. The massage portion went well. It was magical being able to run my hands over Dieter’s body and he truly seemed to appreciate my limited skills as a masseuse. And the second half of the game started out nicely — until I worked my way below his waistline.

”I’m so sorry,” I apologized for the hundredth time. 

Dieter caressed my face. “It’s fine, babe,” he said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

”It’s just … I used to always gag when the doctor used a tongue depressor on me. I have to be careful brushing my back teeth.” I was absolutely mortified. 

Dieter kissed my forehead. “I get it. I understand. We’ll just put that on the list of ‘not gonna happens’. No biggie.”

It felt like a biggie. I’d tried it once before, years ago, with similar results. The guy in question had made a federal case out of it. We’d broken up not long afterward. 

“I just … wanted to make you happy,” I mumbled.

”I am happy,” he said. “Any time I spend with you makes me happy. And there are still a lot of ways you can make me extra happy.” 

****************************************************************************

It didn’t help that Dieter left on a press junket for his latest movie that Monday. The cast was doing group interviews as well as single interviews, taking turns appearing on various talk shows, and recording promo spots for local entertainment news programs. They were spending most of their time in New York, but would fly to Chicago and a few other cities for media blitzes. It would end in Los Angeles, where they would do the rounds of the West Coast based talk shows and attend the premiere, but that wasn’t for almost three weeks.

He managed to call me most evenings, but we didn’t always get to talk for long. Sometimes he was in between interviews and only had a few minutes to spare; other times, he was back in his hotel room but exhausted from the day and not really in the mood to talk much. I understood, but I missed him.

About a week into the junket, my phone pinged. I picked it up and saw a text from an acquaintance.

Have you seen this?

I tapped on the link and opened a video on YouTube. It was an interview for a New York news outlet, with Dieter and one of his co-stars, a very attractive young woman named Erica, who played his character’s lover in the movie. They were somewhat minor characters, and of course, his character ended up dead by the end, killed by her jealous husband. Dieter was still working his way back to the leading man role.

The video started off innocently enough, with the interviewer asking them a few generic questions about the film. Then they cut to a clip, a steamy love scene between the two of them, which I hadn’t seen before. The interviewer asked if it was hard to shoot scenes like that. Erica giggled and shook her head. “Not with him,” she said. Dieter put his arm around her and laughed. 

I clicked the pause button. I’d seen enough. This particular “friend” liked to stir up trouble, so I wasn’t surprised that she’d sent me this video. 

I put the phone down, then picked it back up. I Googled Dieter’s and Erica’s names as well as the name of the movie and found several more video interviews online. Two were of just the two of them, and while one was innocent enough, in the second, Dieter laid his head on her shoulder while laughing over something the interviewer has said. The rest of the interviews featured the entire cast, and in all of them, he was seated right next to Erica. He had his hand on her knee in one, laid his hand on her arm in another, and leaned against her in a third. 

I closed the browser and put the phone down again. Less than a minute later, I picked it back up again, and pulled up the first video again, the one my co-worker had sent me. I copied the URL and sent a text to Dieter:

explain this?

I had no idea when he’d have a chance to answer. He was terrible about texting, and most likely wouldn’t get back to me until he had a chance to call. It was just after 5:00, which meant it was just after 8:00 in New York, and he’d been getting back to his hotel closer to 10:00 most nights. Or at least, that’s what he’d been telling me when he called me. 

Calm down, I told myself. Wait until he has a chance to explain himself. It was hard, though. It had been over two weeks since I’d seen him in person, and things had ended on a slightly sour note, at least for me . I missed him, and he said he missed me, but …

I tried to watch a movie but couldn’t pay attention. I read the same paragraph a dozen times before giving up and putting my book down. In the end, I just sat and stared at my phone, willing it to ring but simultaneously dreading it.

Finally, just before 7:00, it rang. It was a FaceTime call and I took a deep breath before I accepted.

“Hey,” he said when the app opened. “What did that text mean?” He looked tired, but that day I had no sympathy for him.

“It meant what it said,” I told him.

He frowned. “It’s an interview,” he said. 

“With Erica,” I said.

“Um, yeah, she’s in the movie, too,” he said. “So what?”

“Oh, please,” I shot back. “Just tell me, are you sleeping with her?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said, “where is this coming from?” He really did look surprised, but I was tired and had been fretting over this for hours and I had the bit between my teeth.

“I’m not blind,” I said. “You’re all over her, and not just in that interview. And I’ve seen the film clips.”

“First of all, I am not ‘all over her’ …”

I cut him off. “I don’t think there’s one interview where you aren’t touching her,” I said. 

“I touch everyone,” he protested. “You know that. Hell, I’m touching Rick in half those interviews. Do you think I’m sleeping with him, too?”

“You aren’t kissing Rick in the movie,” I said.

“Okay, back up,” he said. He was starting to get angry now. “We shot that movie before I ever even met you, so you can’t be jealous about that. And there were probably thirteen people in the room when we shot those scenes, so there was absolutely nothing erotic about it, trust me. Besides, you knew I was an actor, you’ve seen some of my previous work, this can’t come as a surprise to you. It’s my fucking job.”

“Yeah, okay, so you didn’t know me when you shot those scenes,” I shot back, “but you know me now and people are sending me these videos showing you flirting with another woman …”

“I am not flirting with her,” he shouted. “For fuck’s sake, she’s married. I’ve met her husband; in fact, he was here last weekend and he was sitting just off camera for half those interviews. They’ve got two kids.”

“Then why are you acting like that?”

“Because I’m bored as hell with these fucking interviews? Because she’s my friend? Because I miss you?”

I snorted. “Oh, yeah, right, you miss me.”

“I do,” he insisted. “Well, maybe not right at this moment …”

“Fuck you,” I said.

“Hey …”

“Just stop pretending, okay? We both know you can do way better than me, so why do you even bother?”

I hung up before I started crying. I had always known in the back of my mind that this wouldn’t last long. Our lives were too different, and I was nowhere near good enough for someone like him. Our last weekend together had proved that.

My phone rang but I ignored it. After it rang five more times, I turned it off. It wasn’t even 8:00 yet, but I went to bed and cried myself to sleep.

****************************

I avoided my co-workers the next morning, and the day dragged on and on. My eyes were still puffy from crying when I woke up, and no amount of makeup could completely disguise it. Finally, the day ended and I headed home, wanting nothing more than to take a huge dose of ibuprofen for my headache and eat a pint of ice cream, the traditional cure for a breakup.

I had known going in that things with Dieter wouldn’t last. How could it work? He was an A list actor (well, currently B list but working his way back up to the top tier) and I was a nobody. Our lives were too different. Still, there had been moments when I truly thought we could do it, that we could exist in a bubble where he was just Deet and I was Em and Dieter Fucking Bravo was a character he played sometimes.

When I got home, there was a strange car in front of my house, but I figured the neighbors had company and didn’t think anything of it, until I unlocked the door and stepped inside. There was a bouquet of roses in a vase on my coffee table and the kitchen light was on.

“Hello?” I called out tentatively, my phone in my hand, ready to call 9-1-1.

Dieter stepped out of the kitchen. “Hey,” he said softly.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “I thought you were in New York.”

“I flew home,” he said. 

“What about the press junket?” I knew those things were usually written into the contract when an actor signed on for a movie, and were nearly impossible to get out of.

“Told them I had a family emergency,” he said. “And I’m flying back on the red eye, so I’ll only miss one day of interview hell.”

I shook my head. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re here.” He had a key to my place; maybe he wanted to return it in person and get my key to his place.

“Well, you wouldn’t answer my phone calls, so I figured this was the only way to get you to talk,” he said. “And we definitely need to talk.” He took my hand and led me to the couch.

“I think we said everything last night,” I said, pulling my hand away from him.

“No, you said everything last night,” he said, grabbing my hand back. “You didn’t want to listen to me.”

“There’s not much to say,” I said. “It’s pretty clear it’s over.” My voice caught a little in my throat but I managed to keep myself from crying.

“Why do you say that?,” he asked sadly.

I sighed. “Because it’s true,” I said. “I saw the videos.”

“And I told you she’s married,” he said. “And we’re just friends. I hadn’t seen any of them since we wrapped. These press junkets are stressful and we’re all thrown together for hours and hours day after day.” He took my hand and started stroking my palm. “You know I’m pretty touchy-feely, especially with people I know. That’s just how I am. It doesn’t mean anything.” He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it softly.

“I wish I could believe you,” I said.

“Why not?”

“Because,” I said.

“Because why?”

I guessed I’d have to spell it out for him. “Because look at me! I’m not like Erica. I’m  not a size two, I don’t have perky boobs, I don’t look like I stepped off the cover of Vogue.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” He frowned. “I don’t give a shit about any of that. I don’t want Erica, or some fake-ass model. I want you.”

“Yeah, right,” I said. “I can’t even give you a blow job.”

He grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. “Listen to me,” he said. “Look at me.” He hooked a finger under my chin, lifting my face so I was looking him in the eye. “I. Love. You. You understand?”

I wanted to believe him. I really did. I said so.

He pressed his forehead against mine. “Sweetheart,” he whispered. “You can believe me. You have to believe me. I love you. I love you so much.”

”But …”

”No buts.” I knew he was being serious because he didn’t make a butt joke. “Sex is great. I enjoy it a lot. But I’d rather be celibate with you than have a fucking orgy with anyone else in the world. Got it?”

“What did I do to deserve you?” I whispered back.

“Hell if I know,” he replied. “I’m still trying to figure out what I did to deserve you.” He chuckled and slid his arms around me. “I missed you so much,” he said in my ear. “These press tours suck. I wish you could go with me, baby.”

“Stupid job,” I said.

“Yours or mine?,” he asked. I laughed.

“Both,” I replied.

“My flight doesn’t leave until 1:00 am,” he said. “What do you want to do until then?”

“Oh, you think you can say you love me and I’ll tumble into bed with you?” I teased.

“Pretty much,” he said, winking. “But you haven’t said it back yet, so maybe I don’t want to.”

I grabbed his chin and held his face still. “I. Love. You,” I said, punctuating each word with a kiss.

“Now was that so hard?,” he asked.

”That’s what she said,” I teased. He laughed so hard he started wheezing. 

“That’s my smart ass girl,” he said once he could breathe again. “Anyone could suck me off, but only you can make me laugh like that.” He kissed me, hard. “Now, how about some dinner? I haven’t had anything to eat since last night. My stomach has been in knots since you hung up on me.”

”Would some In-n-Out be a sufficient apology?”

“You know I’d do anything for In-n-Out, baby.”

”So would I,” I admitted. 

“But I won’t do that,” we both sang, off-key. 

************************************************************************

The day after our reconciliation, I was dragging at work. A student commented that I looked tired, and I wouldn’t have said anything, except Eileen was standing right there.

“Yeah,” I said, “I didn’t get much sleep last night. My boyfriend’s been out of town on business and he flew back yesterday to surprise me. But he had to fly back to New York on a red-eye, so by the time he left for the airport and I got to bed, it was well after midnight.”

I turned to Eileen. “By the way, that reminds me,” I said casually. “I’ll be taking a couple days off the week after next.”

“Oh?,” she asked. Even though she wasn’t technically part of the library team, she was very interested in our comings and goings. I think she even kept a spreadsheet of how often the textbook clerk and I were out so she could complain about our doors being locked.

“Yeah, Dieter’s movie premieres that Thursday, so I’ll need that day off to get ready for the red carpet, and then there’s at least one after party that night, so we’ll probably spend Friday sleeping.” I smiled at her and then turned away to help another student. Take that, you gossipy bitch.

Before he’d gotten into his rental car to drive back to Ontario Airport, Dieter had asked me if I’d accompany him on the red carpet. It wasn’t something we’d planned on doing, but he said that he wanted to prove to me — and the rest of the world — that he was officially off the market. “Taken. No longer in circulation. Unavailable. End of story,” had been his exact words, each one accompanied by a kiss on the tip of my nose. How could I say no?

**********************************

Dieter had gotten back in town Sunday night. The cast had spent every day since doing interviews in L.A. and I hadn’t had a chance to see him, but after work on Wednesday, I drove to his house. He wasn’t home yet when I got there, but I let myself in and rummaged around in the kitchen to see if there was anything worth cooking for dinner. It looked like he hadn’t had time to go shopping since he’d gotten back, though.

I texted him to ask what time he thought he’d be home so I could arrange for food delivery. Surprisingly, he texted right back.

Maybe 7, not sure. If too late I’ll call you. Eat when u want, save me leftovers. Love u.

I opened up GrubHub and browsed through the restaurants that were available. I decided on Chinese food, since that was easily reheated or could even be eaten cold. I placed an order to be delivered at 7:30. If Dieter wasn’t home by then, I’d go ahead and eat if I was hungry.

I flopped on the couch and turned on the TV. He had cable and subscribed to almost every streaming service there was. I opened up Disney+ and started a binge of my favorite old school animated Disney movies. I’d made it to Robin Hood when I heard a key in the door.

“Hey,” Dieter said, his face lighting up. “What are we watching?”

I paused the TV and crossed the room to hug him. “Old Disney movies,” I said. “Dinner should be here in about twenty minutes. Golden Pagoda.”

He kissed me. “Good, I’m starved. Did you remember to get those cream cheese wontons? I love those things.”

“Yes, I did,” I replied. “And egg rolls, and that horribly spicy chicken you love.”

We settled on the couch and he unpaused the TV. “Oh, man, I remember this one,” he said.

“It was my favorite when I was little,” I said. “I had the hat and everything.”

“You aren’t one of those girls who had a crush on the fox, were you?”

I shrugged. “Guilty,” I admitted. 

He shook his head. “What is it with that fox? Is it because he doesn’t wear pants?”

“Half the classic Disney animal characters don’t wear pants,” I pointed out. “Nobody’s crushing on Donald Duck or Winne the Pooh, though. I think it might be the accent. And the hat.”

“I’m gonna get me a hat,” he said.

It felt good to just be together, watching a movie, being silly, and waiting for our food to arrive.

“I’m glad you’re home,” I murmured in his ear.

“Me, too,” he said, pulling me a bit closer. He kissed my cheek. “And I’m glad we’re good.”

I laid my head on his shoulder. I’d done a lot of thinking since our fight and reconciliation. “I’m sorry. I was an idiot.”

“Nah, you were just being human,” he said. “Love makes people crazy sometimes. I’ll probably do some dumb shit at some point, and then we’ll be even.”

We snuggled and watched the movie until the doorbell rang. Dieter fetched the food while I got some plates out of the kitchen and we covered the coffee table with takeout containers. We ate until we were full and there was still a ton of food left.

“This’ll last us the whole weekend,” he said as we packed everything back up and shoved it into the fridge. “Which is good, because after the premiere, I just want to crash for a few days.” He yawned and stretched his back.

I glanced at the clock; it was only 8:35. “What time do you have to be up in the morning?,” I asked.

“We have an interview at ten, so I need to be out of here by nine, so … 8:45?”

“Let’s make it eight,” I said. “I’m not sending you out into the world without a shower and a decent breakfast.”

“But I don’t wanna get up that early,” he whined.

“I’ve got to get up early, too,” I said. “I have an appointment at the spa at ten for a mani/pedi, facial, and something called a seaweed wrap?” I checked the calendar on my phone. “Then home to change, makeup at one, hair at three, and we have to be there at what, five?”

He nodded. “Have you decided which dress to wear?” 

I’d spent the previous weekend with a stylist who had overwhelmed me with designer dresses in a million colors and styles. We’d narrowed it down to three choices, which I’d taken photos of and sent to Dieter for his vote. Annoyingly, he’d said he liked them all and to pick the one I liked best.

“Yeah, the green one,” I said. I stepped into the bedroom and took the dress, in its garment bag, off the back of the door where I’d hung it when I got in. I unzipped the bag and pulled the dress out. It was a deep hunter green satin, sleeveless, with a fitted waist and a deep slit in the skirt. The back of the skirt trailed on the floor in a short train, and there were two drapes of material hanging from the shoulders. It was elegant and simple but the color and the satin made it look horribly expensive, which it was. I’d about fainted when I saw the price tag, but the stylist had assured me we were only renting the dress and anyway the designer was giving us a break on that just to get her name out there. 

“I even got you a little something,” I said. The stylist had rummaged around in her closets and found a silk tie that almost exactly matched the color of the dress. I pulled it off the hanger and handed it to Dieter.

“I love it!,” he said. “It’ll go great with my brown suit.” He disappeared into the bedroom and I heard him digging around in the closet. He reappeared with a gorgeous chocolate brown suit that I hadn’t seen before.

“Where have you been hiding this?” I asked. 

“In the closet, duh,” he replied. I smacked him and fingered the fine wool cloth. “I bought it in New York. Bespoke splurge. We are going to look so good tomorrow,” he said.

************************************

I had been poked and prodded and pampered until I wanted to scream. At first it had been fun, lounging in a chair while three different aestheticians worked on my hands, feet, and face, but then I’d had to go lie in a hot room with slimy layers of seaweed wrapped around my body to “reduce puffiness and draw out the toxins.” I was sweaty and gross by the time the spa attendant came back for me and shoved me into a freezing cold shower “to shock the system and kickstart the metabolism.” 

I barely had time for lunch — a salad with no dressing and cucumber water; spa cuisine sucks — before heading back to Dieter’s place to get dressed. He’d arranged a driver so I didn’t have to worry about traffic, at least. I struggled into the Spanx and uncomfortable push up bra the stylist had made me buy, then gingerly put the dress on, afraid of tearing it. It had been altered to fit me and while that made it look much better, it meant there wasn’t much leeway. I’d just gotten into it when the doorbell rang and I shuffled to the door, holding up the long skirt that dragged on the floor when I was barefoot.

It was the makeup artist. She schlepped in several tackle boxes of supplies and a fancy lighted mirror. She set up a workstation in the kitchen, spreading her things out all over the island. 

“Okay, sit down, relax, and let me do my magic,” she said with a grin. She swathed me in a sheet and clipped my hair back away from my face. The kitchen chair wasn’t the most comfortable seat in the house but every time I squirmed, she gave me a look and I did my best to sit still while she powdered and painted and blended and smudged and plucked away at my face. Every once in a while, she’d frown a little and get out the makeup remover and start over.

Finally, she nodded. “Voila,” she said, turning the mirror so I could see what she’d done.

Holy shit, I thought. That can’t be me. I looked like I’d stepped off the cover of a magazine.

She laughed. “Yeah, the magic of makeup,” she said. “You wouldn’t recognize half the women in Hollywood if you saw them without professional makeup. The photographers are going to eat you up.”

She was still packing up her things when the doorbell rang again. She motioned for me to stay seated while she answered it. The hair stylist bustled in, hauling her own array of equipment.

She moved me to the kitchen stool, which was taller than the chair, and draped me in a tie-dyed cape. She spritzed my hair with water, and started to blow it dry, working it with a round brush. She paused, worked in some mousse and went back to work with the hair dryer. Next came the curling iron, then the hair dryer again, then the curling iron yet again. She sprayed me with hairspray until I sneezed, then kept fussing and teasing and pinning and curling until I was ready to scream. Finally, she seemed satisfied and gave me a hand mirror. 

My hair fell in soft, sexy ringlets around my face. The sides were swept up just a bit and held with glittery bobby pins. I had insisted we not do any color or add extensions, but it was amazing what she’d been able to do with my hair. My gray streaks looked like fancy highlights and my hair had a bounce to it instead of just hanging there like it usually did.

“You like it?”

“I love it,” I said. 

She packed up and left, just as Dieter was coming home from his last round of interviews.

“Wow, you clean up good,” he said when he saw me. 

“Shut up and get dressed,” I told him. “We have to leave in forty minutes.”

He laughed and disappeared into the bedroom. He’d had his hair done that morning before the interviews, but I’d probably have to fix it before we left, since he had a bad habit of running his hand through it and messing it up.

Twenty minutes later he reappeared in the brown suit, with a tan shirt and that vibrant green tie. He hated wearing a tie, and I knew that by the end of the evening it would be in his pocket and he’d have the top few buttons of his shirt undone, but for now he looked like a proper grownup.

I slipped on my shoes (beautiful strappy heels that were incredibly painful after five minutes) and found my purse. It was a tiny clutch that barely held my eyeglasses but I knew that if I didn’t take them with me I’d have a headache by the end of the movie. I could see without them, but I very rarely took them off. Walking the red carpet without them, and in brand new heels, was going to be an adventure.

“Ready?” Dieter offered me his arm and I took it.

“As I’ll ever be,” I said. 

***************************************

“You look amazing,” he said softly when we were tucked into the back of the town car. The partition was closed, so the driver couldn’t see us as Dieter kissed my neck.

“Stop it,” I chided him. “You’ll mess up my makeup.”

“That’s why I’m kissing your neck,” he said, trailing little kisses down from my ear to my collarbone. “I’ll mess up your makeup later.”

“This isn’t fair,” I complained. “I can’t kiss you back because I’ll smear my lipstick.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, face buried in my throat. When he was done, he lifted his head and said, “Life’s not fair, get used to it.”

“I hate you,” I said with a laugh.

“No, you don’t,” he said. “You love me. You said it and you can’t take it back.”

“You’re in a good mood,” I said, fixing the stray strands of hair that were falling into his face. 

“It’s almost over,” he explained. “These promo tours and premieres are a pain in the ass. We do the red carpet, watch the movie, go to the party for a while and then we’re done.” He threw his head back and laughed. “We can just relax for a while. I’m turning my phone off this weekend, it’s just you and me and all that Chinese food.”

I laid my head on his shoulder, careful not to disturb my hair too much. “That sounds wonderful,” I said. My feet already hurt and I was counting the minutes until I could get out of those damnable Spanx.

We arrived at the theatre. The studio had gone all out, booking the Chinese Theatre (formerly known as Grauman’s; we were both old enough to think of it as that) in Hollywood. Our car pulled up to the curb and a smartly dressed young man opened the door for us. I slid out as gracefully as I could and waited for Dieter to climb out after me. There were hundreds of people lining the walkway to the theatre, which was actually covered with a red carpet, albeit one that had seen some use. There were a few threadbare spots and stains scattered over it but it was still nice.

“Dieter!!” Fans were screaming his name as he emerged from the car. 

“Show time,” he whispered to me before turning to the crowd with a brilliant smile and starting to wave at the fans. “Just follow my lead,” he said out the side of his mouth.

We walked slowly along the red carpet, as fans shouted and cheered. Some had signs, others waved autograph books or photos or Cliff Beast action figures at him, begging for a signature. I watched him as he graciously acknowledged everyone he could, signing things, asking how to spell names so he didn’t make a mistake. I just stood beside him, my hand tucked into the crook of his elbow, mostly ignored by the crowd.

When a young woman asked for a selfie, he obliged, even though it meant I had to let go of him. She giggled and kissed his cheek while they took the picture. He looked up at me and winked. I rolled my eyes and he laughed. “Get in here,” he said, pulling me into the next selfie, his arm tight around my shoulders.  After that, he declined any more selfies, except for a young boy with a Cliff Beasts t-shirt and the hairless head of a cancer patient. We stopped and chatted with him, took several pictures, and I asked his mom for their address, which I typed into my phone while Dieter was moving down the line. 

“I’ll make sure he gets something really cool,” I promised the boy’s mom, who had tears in her eyes. Then I hurried to catch up with Dieter; we were almost to the wall of cameras, as he’d called it.

There was a huge backdrop covered with the logo of the movie, the name of the studio and several sponsors. Opposite it was a horde of photographers, all jockeying for position to get the best shots of the arrivals. “Here we go,” Dieter said as we stepped into the line of fire.

Photographers were shouting his name, all trying to get him to look directly at their camera. Others were calling out directions. “Turn to the left! Look up!” An assistant gently guided us to the first of several marks on the carpet, predetermined places where the photographers could get good shots. I’d been practicing poses in the mirror, trying to keep my chin up so my neck looked longer, turning my body slightly so they would get a three-quarter angle, smiling until my cheeks ached.

“Look at me!,” one photographer shouted.

“Look at her!,” another demanded. 

“Look at him!”

“Look at each other!”

I was confused and Dieter laughed. “Just do whatever the hell you want, they’ll figure it out,” he said. He ducked his head down and kissed me, very lightly so as not to mess up my lipstick too much, and I heard a barrage of shutter clicks. “That’ll make ‘em happy,” he said.

We finally made our way past the gantlet of photographers and into the lobby of the theatre, where everyone was gathering to wait for the doors to the auditorium to open. Dieter dragged me over to meet the director, and one of the producers. “Always talk to the big shots first,” he’d told me earlier. “You have to do a fair amount of sucking up in this business, even with people who don’t like suck ups.”

We exchanged pleasantries, Dieter’s arm comfortably around my waist. I knew I was just there for decoration.  This was part of his job, and my job was to smile and nod and shake hands and make him look good.

Then we walked over to Erica and her husband. Erica was wearing a gorgeous beaded dress that skimmed over her curves and shimmered when she moved. Her husband was in a navy blue suit with a spotless white shirt and a navy tie.

“Hey!” Dieter said, hugging Erica and shaking hands with her husband. He introduced me and I shook hands with both of them. It was a bit awkward for a moment, but then Erica took over.

“It is so good to finally meet you,” she said to me. “He would literally not stop talking about you the entire press tour.” She tucked her arm through the crook of my elbow and leaned in. “I’m sorry about the interviews,” she whispered. 

“It’s okay,” I told her. “I overreacted. I’m new to all this.”

“You’ll get used to it,” she said. “He really is crazy about you, you know. You have nothing to worry about.” 

She let me go and Dieter and I moved on to chat with some of the other cast members. Finally the auditorium doors opened and we were ushered inside to our seats, then the rest of the audience was let in. Friends and family and others with sometimes extremely vague connections to the studio and the cast filled out the audience. Dieter and I both put on our glasses as the lights dimmed and he pulled my hand into his lap, playing with my fingers as the movie started.

I really couldn’t pay attention to the film, between my aching feet, the Spanx that made it difficult to take a deep breath, and Dieter doing things to my hand that made me look forward to the weekend.

After the movie ended, Dieter and the other cast members had to go up on the stage, while the director, producers, and several studio execs gave speeches.  Finally, we were free to go, but only to drive a few blocks down the street to the party venue. As I predicted, once we were in the car, Dieter undid his tie and unbuttoned the top three buttons on his shirt.

“Not fair,” I said. “I don’t have anything to undo.” I squirmed as my Spanx started to ride up and give me a wedgie.

“We could skip the party and go home,” he said.

“You know we can’t,” I said. There would be more photographers at the party and more people to schmooze with. 

He sighed. “Yeah, I know, but we don’t have to stay too long, I promise.”

The party was loud and without my glasses on, I quickly developed a headache, but I gallantly followed Dieter around and smiled at everyone while I sipped on a weak drink. I couldn’t blame them for watering down the drinks, because these people were hard drinkers. I watched one studio exec down seven drinks in the space of an hour.

Finally, Dieter whispered, “Ready to go?”

“I’ve been ready,” I whispered back. He smiled, and pulled out his phone to text our driver. We slipped out and dodged a few die-hard photographers before piling into the back seat of the town car for the ride home. The car had barely pulled away from the curb before Dieter was shrugging out of his suit coat and I had my shoes off.

“Oh, that helps,” I said, rubbing at the blisters and pressure spots on my feet. Dieter pulled my feet into his lap and started massaging them. It was sweet but also an excuse to slide my dress up so he could run his hand up my thigh. It didn’t take long before I was in his lap and half my lipstick was on his face and throat.

When the car pulled up in his driveway, we stumbled out and into the house. 

“Get me out of these Spanx,” I said, throwing my shoes into a corner. I never wanted to wear them again. Dieter obliged, helping me carefully take off the dress. I wrestled myself out of the shape wear and unfastened my bra. They joined the shoes in the corner of shame.

We left a trail of discarded clothing from the front door to the bedroom until we finally collapsed onto the bed. “Can we just run around naked for a few days?,” I asked, as I stretched, exhilarating in the freedom to just breathe and move without the constriction of foundation garments.

“Sounds good to me,” Dieter said. He started to pull me close but I shook my head. 

“I’ve got to get this makeup off before we go to bed or I’m going to ruin your pillowcases and my face will be a mess,” I said. I staggered into the bathroom and scrubbed at my face with cotton pads and makeup remover. By the time I got back to the bedroom, Dieter was asleep, sprawled on top of the comforter. 

I pulled the pins out of my hair, laid them on the nightstand, and crawled into the bed. I tugged at the covers and shoved Dieter around until I had him under the covers as best I could. I didn’t want him to get cold during the night. It was still warm during the day but the nights were starting to get chilly this close to the ocean. Finally, I gave up when he was mostly covered up and let my own head drop onto the pillow. There would be plenty of time to fool around during the next three days. Right now, what we both needed most was sleep.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x ofc #the bubble fanfiction #late night talking

[draychuh]

UA metgala au ( Shinsou x Reader )

you were getting ready with the rest of the girls in the hotel room you all booked together. momo was helping with doing your hair while you did your makeup. you had an excited grin at the thought of having the night of your life with your girl friends. it's not like you had anyone you were expecting with anyway. though uraraka will be having midoriya as her partner. you also knew a couple of class 1B students who will be going as dates. mina squeals, showing everyone her dress reveal. you couldn't help but smile. just because you didn't have a date, doesn't mean you wouldn't have much as fun!

"oh yeah! isn't shinsou gonna tag along?" froppy looked your way, since she was the few people who knew you had a small crush on the lavender haired boy. as much as you wished he would, you remembered your last conversation with him.

"the metgala? oh yeah, i dont think i'll be going. i got extra training with mr aizawa." he tells you in the most calm demeanor ever, as if all those countless nights of you secretly praying that he would attend didn't matter.

you sighed. "he's not coming. he's working his ass off like usual." "damn, not even the metgala would make him slack off. he's really determined to get into the hero course." uraraka chuckles, admiring his passion.

momo had finished doing your hair. "you look gorgeous!" she was very proud of her work, also letting you borrow her earrings as she thought it would add a nicer touch to your hairdo. "momo~ can you do mine next??" mina begs in excitement as she takes your seat before anyone else could.

~

You and girls walked into the ballroom, being greeted by the beautiful chandeliers and diamonds decorated all over the hall. you were taking in the deep blue lights as it reflects through the glass tables. whoever was assigned to decorate the hall deserves a fine pay, you though to yourself.

the class 1A all shared the same table, starting their dinner with the many dishes lay out for them. you scanned through the room, yet no sign of lavender. "you okay girlie?" mina startles you. you assured her that you were fine despite the obvious sadness in your eyes. she faces you. "look, one day you're going to look back and regret sulking the whole night just because your high school crush didn't show up to the school ball. you'll get to hang out with him another time. now, you have us. so have fun!" your friends smile at you. you cant help but chuckle, rolling your eyes. "thanks guys. i promise i'll enjoy the night."

yet after all that, you stand alone at the corner of the ballroom, drinking sparkling water as your friend group separates, either conversating with new faces or grooving on the dancefloor. you weren't in the mood to dance or socialize. instead you put your focus on the little decorations that are under looked. you decided to refill your drink, walking over to the food stand. your brows furrowed when you noticed that the ice has melted in the jar. "dang it, the ice is the best part."

"i know right-" you stopped, shocked to see shinsou. he was dressed in a dark purple suit, and for the first time his hair was slicked back tidily. he also froze in his place, taking you all in.

"you look stunning." shinsou managed to speak. he couldn't take his eyes away from you. he thought you looked beautiful under the dim blue lights. you tried not to be giddy about it, laughing his compliment off as you fiddle with your fingers. "i thought you said you're not coming?' she could see the little smile on his face. "yeah well, mr aizawa kinda forced me into getting a break from training. he said i shouldn't waste away my teen years and enjoy the moment."

you scoffed. "duh. i can't believe that wasn't the first thing you thought of!" she playfully hits him. he laughs at her pensiveness. "i'm sorry. i just.. i don't know. but hey, i'm here now."

you smile, agreeing with him as you took another sip of the drink you held. "yeah. you are."

the music changes to a more slow paced tune. you watched midoriya taking uraraka's hand, bringing her over to the dancefloor. more students followed, holding onto their partners as they danced to the rhythm. shinsou fixes his tie, taking a deep breath before tapping your shoulder gently. he offers you his hand, giving you a warm smile. you knew exactly what he meant, taking his hand as you both joined the dancefloor. you put your hands on his shoulder, while he puts his on your waist.

you both slow danced, moving back and forth in parallel motion. shinsou looks down on you, seeing your eyes glisten like crystals. he could feel people staring at them as they danced. but he didn't care. because he cherished this moment with you. he spun you around, chuckling as you struggled to do so with you heels.

-

"wow, didn't expect the night to go really well." you said, resting your arm on the balcony handle as you looked at the night sky. "i had a lot of fun tonight. well, you made it a lot more exciting."

shinsou looks at you, feeling a tug in his chest. he turns back to look at the same stars you have your eyes on. "honestly, i wouldn't have gone if it weren't for you."

"what's that?" you were zoning on, not catching his mutter. he shook his head. "nothin."

"c'mon- you can't do that! tell me now."

"it's really nothing." he said sternly. both their hearts beat at the same pace.

you faced him, not taking that as an answer. "shinsou, if you don't tell me what you said i'm gonna have to force it out of you till the night ends."

shinsou sighs in defeat, knowing your overly curious self wouldn't stop until you're satisfied. perhaps your determination in, almost everything in life makes you such an admirable person to him.

"wait. don't move." he walks over to a nearby bush filled with colorful flowers, plucking the purple one that stood out the most. he moves closer to you, putting the flower on your hair. the action took you by surprise. his eyes soften. "you look even prettier under the moonlight." he suddenly say, holding your already red cheek. "i've been wanting to tell you, but i just couldn't get myself to until now i guess. it's just that i've been so busy and focused in my trainings, i haven't gotten the time to even think about anything else. but when i do get to see you, or when you text me. hell, just the mention of your name makes me feel some kind of way i never knew i could feel. you're a wonderful, kind and just what im trying to say is that-" you stopped his yapping by catching his lips, kissing him softly. his face reddens as he looks back at you when you pulled away. just as immediately, he connects his lips with your again. this time it was longer than the last, enjoying each other's warmth from the night breeze. it gradually got intimate as you could feel yourself moving a few steps back. he pulls away, both panting from the kiss. "i.. i love you. please, go out with me. be mine. be my girlfriend." his looks at you with hopeful eyes. "of course. i love you too." you kissed his cheek, letting out a light chuckle when you realized the lipstick stains all over his face. "what's funny?' he asks curiously despite the pounding heart in his chest. she shook her head, giving his hand one last squeeze before she walks towards her group of friends who were waiting for her. "i'll see you tomorrow! bye shinsou!' you waved at him. denki went to him with a huge grin on his face. "yo! dude! i didn't see you the whole night. wait, are those lipstick stains on your face?" he asks weirdly.

shinsou gave him a toothy smile. "heh."

thanks for reading!

#hitoshi shinsou x reader #fluff #mha x reader #shinsou hitoshi

[drjohnweston]

Being Human Q&A 17th December 2022

Everything I can remember from the Q&A, under the read more because it's pretty long!!

Unfortunately, due to Covid, Kate Bracken was unable to attend the event.

Toby Whithouse on being asked why he had selected Making History 4.07 as the episode to be shown: "It was the most ambitious series where we changed the genre slightly, having two timelines running alongside each other with one happening 25 years in the future. This was the episode where those timelines converged."

They then aired the episode before Toby was joined onstage by Jason Watkins and Damien Molony.

Question to Toby: “Where did it all start?"

Toby had been asked to write a TV series about 3 university friends buying a house together, which after struggling to come up with ideas, eventually evolved into a person with anger management issues, a person with agoraphobia, and a person with addiction issues sharing a house, with one of the characters being named George.

At the same time TW had also written a short film romcom about a werewolf named George. The two ideas merged together to give the characters a story and the connections were made between agoraphobia and being a ghost and addiction and being a vampire.

The very first draft of the script was written purely as a sitcom and the second draft of the script was written as if it was an independent American short film.

At first people could not understand that it was a combination of horror, comedy, and drama, but Toby Whithouse thought that this was much more representative of real life, where we are never confined to one genre.

TW also spoke about how the stories he connected with the most were the ones that took place in our world. He said that “The best escapism was into stories that could take place around us.” And that “I was writing for 14-year-old me.”

On the subject of Being Human spanning genres, Jason Watkins added that in reality, at their most horrific moments, people make jokes. He also said that there was “Something colloquial, speakable, domestic, and modern” About the Being Human script.

Q: Were there any references to favourite vampires when creating the show?

TW spoke a little about the mythology and the limitations they were under. “If you can have the vampires only appear at night that is a production nightmare, a scheduling nightmare.”

He also spoke about two new pieces of mythology added in series 4 and how one they thought was perfectly logical and that they would get away with, and another that they thought there was no way the fans would forgive them for and would accuse them of “making shit up.” However, when the series aired those two pieces of new mythology, toxic werewolf blood and Rent-A-Ghosting vampires were received completely the opposite way around and TW was shocked that people hated toxic werewolf blood as a concept so much.

Q: What was it like for Damien Molony joining the series and how did he prepare?

When he went for his audition, he had been acting in the play Tis a Pity She’s a Whore and was spending every night being covered in fake blood from head to toe “like in Carrie”. He said that when he travelled down to the audition, he’d been unable to clean off all of the fake blood and thought that might have helped him to get the part, that the casting agents probably went “wow that guy’s really method.”

After getting the role, Damien watched all the previous series of Being Human and was sent 10 DVDs of vampire films to watch as a crash course 5 days before filming started. He was also given a playlist of music that Hal would listen to and talked about OCD and dominoes.

Later in the QA, an audience member asked specifically how he prepared to show Hal’s OCD, to which Damien replied that he watched lots of documentaries on channel 4 on demand (as the service was called back then) and that he used to spell out the name of the old American actor Hal Holbrook on his fingers on set.

He also added that the domino spiral was set up on set 2 weeks in advance of filming and that everyone on set had to resist the temptation not to touch it and had to tip toe around so as not to accidentally knock it, causing hours of work to put it back.

Another anecdote from Damien Molony came after being reminded about how much beetroot juice he had to drink when they were filming Making History, with 10 litres of beetroot juice having effects that caused him to phone his doctor dad with some worried questions.

The Q&A moved back to Jason Watkins, airing a clip of Herrick in the isolation chamber with Mitchell, George, and Annie in Bad Moon Rising 1.06.  Jason was asked “How did you approach a character with such a black heart”

Jason spoke about Herrick’s complete enjoyment of all the things that he does, his psychopathic nature. “As a villain, he has a pure appetite for it. He ticks all those awful boxes.”

Toby Whithouse added that Herrick “has one mode, summed up by the line “You’re a shark, be a shark.” He never has a single moment of doubt.

Jason Watkins also talked of Herrick as a “paternal figure, he has these sort of sons.” And how he needed to have people like Mitchell in that position, because he needed to be in control, describing it as “having control over somebody and needing that control to know where you are in the world.”

This prompted Ruby, the interviewer to ask about the relationships between vampires and their makers, pointing out that we had just witnessed a twisted version of that relationship in 4.07 between Hal and Cutler.

Damien Molony described Hal as a “straight-jacketed, terrified loner being suddenly confronted with the victim turned master” in Cutler. There was much praise from the panel for Andrew Gower’s performance as Cutler.

Another question to Damien: “As we as fans often see good Hal and Bad Hal and separate people, like Angel in Buffy”, do you see them as different” Damien described good Hal as closed off, straight-jacketed (again), and very controlled. Whereas he said that bad Hal is at ease and open.

Back to Jason Watkins who was asked “Could Herrick be redeemed if he shared a house with Annie Sawyer?” Jason started to go into a longer explanation, but Toby Whithouse replied with a simple no.

Back to the question about relationships between vampires and their makers, Jason Watkins brought up the existence of a script for a scene that was never filmed about Herrick’s recruitment (this is still accessible via the old official Being Human Blog archives and there is a link on my blog).

Jason also recalled the time they were filming Herrick’s resurrection for the end of series 2. Which was not filmed in an empty snowy field, but in a park in the middle of Bristol with a group of elderly people from a local care home watching from the side-lines.

Lastly from Jason Watkins, replying to an audience question about what he took from the role of Herrick, he spoke about how “it was a bit of a break for him” (career wise) and how Herrick’s confidence “was him on a really good day,” and that by playing Herrick it increased his own confidence in his work and performance.

As both members of the cast on the panel had played vampires, the questions had been more focussed on them.

Speaking about the werewolves, Toby said “Werewolves become boring after they’ve transformed, they just become a thing. … It’s all about the tension, the lead up and the aftermath.” That’s the interesting part.

An audience member asked if Toby could discuss the ghosts, saying “they are the glue of the show, how did you come up with them?”

Toby responded that actually, the ghost episodes had always been the hardest ones to write and that he tended to lean more into the comedy aspect with them, because both Lenora and Kate were good at comedy. He said that he always paired their characters up with more experienced ghosts, because both Annie and Alex were new to that world. But he also said that he had to start to break his own rules and bring Annie out of the house as “Ding Dong, it’s a ghost” turning up at the door as a plotline would have gotten old very quickly.

He shared that he and Gilbert had the same musical taste, and that it meant he could “write jokes about people like Marc Almond that only he (toby) would find funny.”

And finally, one audience member asked, “Did you ever see things online and think I wish we would have done that?”

Toby Whithouse replied “the online community I absolutely loved. It added another layer of joy. During series 2 airing someone came up with the idea that Professor Jaggat was a werewolf and that was why she wasn’t there at during the (first) transformation, and I thought oh that’s a really good idea.” He went on to add “You can’t pay too much attention to audience feedback.” And spoke about writing what audiences need rather than what they might necessarily want to see. But that he would read the (official) blog because it was fun and so many lovely things were said.

#being human #being human uk #toby whithouse #jason watkins #damien molony #herrick #hal yorke #please forgive any errors I haven't proof read it