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#seriously if you haven't seen them; go check it out !
heloflor · 9 months
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Recently re-stumbled across the cutscenes of "Yoshi's Crafted World", this is basically my takeaway from them.
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were--ralph · 4 months
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why exactly do you dislike generative art so much? i know its been misused by some folks, but like, why blame a tool because it gets used by shitty people? Why not just... blame the people who are shitty? I mean this in genuinely good faith, you seem like a pretty nice guy normally, but i guess it just makes me confused how... severe? your reactions are sometimes to it. There's a lot of nuance to conversation about it, and by folks a lot smarter than I (I suggest checking out the Are We Art Yet or "AWAY" group! They've got a lot on their page about the ethical use of Image generation software by individuals, and it really helped explain some things I was confused about). I know on my end, it made me think about why I personally was so reactive about Who was allowed to make art and How/Why. Again, all this in good faith, and I'm not asking you to like, Explain yourself or anything- If you just read this and decide to delete it instead of answering, all good! I just hope maybe you'll look into *why* some people advocate for generative software as strongly as they do, and listen to what they have to say about things -🦜
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if Ai genuinely generated its own content I wouldn't have as much of a problem with it, however what Ai currently does is scrape other people's art, collect it, and then build something based off of others stolen works without crediting them. It's like. stealing other peoples art, mashing it together, then saying "this is mine i can not only profit of it but i can use it to cut costs in other industries.
this is more evident by people not "making" art but instead using prompts. Its like going to McDonalds and saying "Burger. Big, Juicy, etc, etc" then instead of a worker making the burger it uses an algorithm to build a burger based off of several restaurant's recepies.
example
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the left is AI art, the right is one of the artists (Lindong) who it pulled the art style from. it's literally mass producing someone's artstyle by taking their art then using an algorithm to rebuild it in any context. this is even more apparent when you see ai art also tries to recreate artists watermarks and generally blends them together making it unintelligible.
Aside from that theres a lot of other ethical problems with it including generating pretty awful content, including but not limited to cp. It also uses a lot of processing power and apparently water? I haven't caught up on the newer developements i've been depressed about it tbh
Then aside from those, studios are leaning towards Ai generation to replace having to pay people. I've seen professional voice actors complain on twitter that they haven't gotten as much work since ai voice generation started, artists are being cut down and replaced by ai art then having the remaining artists fix any errors in the ai art.
Even beyond those things are the potential for misinformation. Here's an experiment: Which of these two are ai generated?
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ready?
These two are both entirely ai generated. I have no idea if they're real people, but in a few months you could ai generate a Biden sex scandal, you could generate politics in whatever situation you want, you can generate popular streamers nude, whatever. and worse yet is ai generated video is already being developed and it doesn't look bad.
I posted on this already but as of right now it only needs one clear frame of a body and it can generate motion. yeah there are issues but it's been like two years since ai development started being taken seriously and we've gotten to this point already. within another two years it'll be close to perfected. There was even tests done with tiktokers and it works. it just fucking works.
There is genuinely not one upside to ai art. at all. it's theft, it's harming peoples lives, its harming the environment, its cutting jobs back and hurting the economy, it's invading peoples privacy, its making pedophilia accessible, and more. it's a plague and there's no vaccine for it. And all because people don't want to take a year to learn anatomy.
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starcurtain · 28 days
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2.1 Penacony Spoilers!
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I know the scene after Ratio's "betrayal" can be read a lot of ways but I am shocked I haven't seen more people interpret it as Ratio being so worried about Aventurine that he couldn't stay away even though he was supposed to.
We know:
1) Ratio absolutely knew Aventurine's plan from start to finish, both his gamble to create "death" in the dream and with the three cornerstones. (Wish people would stop underselling Ratio in their analyses; "Three chips are enough" is a direct enough clue that, genius as he is, Ratio would never miss.)
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2) In his own words, Ratio was acting according to Aventurine's instructions while in Dewlight Pavilion and with Sunday and felt that he did a good job not giving them away.
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I think most people are on the same page up to there, but then I've seen a lot of people interpreting this scene after Aventurine leaves Sunday's mansion as Aventurine being genuinely angry at Ratio (possibly after having gaslit himself into thinking Ratio was actually betraying him).
But this doesn't make much sense to me because:
1) Ratio actually has nothing to gain by selling Aventurine out to Sunday. They're on the same side in this mission. Information about a Stelleron on Penacony wouldn't be news anyone with a brain like Ratio's and why would he need someone else's research on Stellerons when he already has ties to the Genius Society through Screwllum and Herta, as well as the Astral Express where the Trailblazer is actively housing a Stelleron?
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2) One of Aventurine's most notable lines of dialogue is how it's perfectly fine and expected for "friends" to use each other and backstab. This is his default understanding of partners--why would he suddenly be mad about something he expected from the start?
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3) If the betrayal wasn't already planned and was just a possibility based on Aventurine's understanding of Ratio, why would he ever have revealed there were "three chips" (aka three cornerstones) in play? If even the betrayal over Topaz's stone wasn't planned, just assumed, why would Aventurine reveal the existence of the third stone? He would gain nothing from doing so.
Instead, I think it makes a lot more sense to interpret Aventurine's frustration with Ratio in this later scene as annoyance over Ratio taking an "unnecessary" risk:
1) As far as Sunday knows, Ratio had just very seriously betrayed Aventurine, completely selling him out and essentially sending him to his execution.
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2) In the scene afterward, Aventurine is out in public in the middle of Penacony where The Family's eyes are always watching, yet Ratio walks right up to him to check on him. Why would someone who just sold you out come up to you immediately afterward to check on your health?!
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3) It's only natural that Aventurine would pump the brakes and go "Wow, didn't think you'd show yourself after you just betrayed me, remember?" Because that's the act they are supposed to be keeping up! They're still being monitored; it's not safe to break character!
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But Ratio is a genius, right, so why would he break character here? From the standpoint of the ploy itself, revealing to the Family that he and Aventurine were still on the same side would only jeopardize the plan, not help it.
The logical explanation, then, is that Ratio went to Aventurine here because he felt like he had to.
He had to check in and make sure the situation was still under Aventurine's control.
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(In fact, the entire exchange through the middle of this scene is Aventurine and Ratio confirming the rest of their plot in a veiled manner: Ratio brings up the plan and mentions what's concealed in the gift money bag, Aventurine confirms the cornerstone is good to go; Ratio asks what his next step will be; Aventurine says he's going to do the insane thing of handing out cash while looking pathetic [aka fishing for Sparkle]. Ratio essentially asks if he's crazy enough to take the final gamble with his own life, which Aventurine confirms, and then Ratio sets them up for the finale by gifting him the doctor's note.)
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Ratio was willing to risk ruining their entire plan--something Aventurine does seem to be frustrated about at first--just to ensure Aventurine still felt all right about the situation.
He needed to deliver his note demanding Aventurine stay alive.
He needed to tell Aventurine to come to him if the situation got too painful to bear.
In short, Ratio was worried enough that he could not stay away even though, for the sake of their plot, it would have made significantly more sense for him not to appear. The gain of breaking character was worth more to him than the risk of being caught.
You honestly don't even have to take this in a shipping context. The real point here is that Ratio is an incredibly good person who wasn't okay with Aventurine's self-sacrificial plan and who felt morally compelled to check on a person in pain. He's a healer through and through, and ignoring Aventurine in this condition--ignoring someone who was taking so much risk on themselves--simply wasn't possible for him, no matter the danger it posed to the plan.
But for those who do ship Ratio and Aventurine... I hope more people will come to see this scene as another example of Ratio's genuine concern for his mission partner! He did not have to appear here at all; it would have made much more sense for him to leave Aventurine to his own devices to uphold the illusion of their "betrayal." He showed up in this scene--very likely against Aventurine's expectations--because he was concerned for Aventurine's situation and wanted to ensure Aventurine knew he could fall back on Ratio's support at any time if the plan went awry.
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tl;dr: I wish people would stop interpreting this scene as the aftermath of a betrayal. Aventurine wasn't ticked off with Ratio in this scene because he felt like he'd genuinely been backstabbed; he was ticked off because Ratio was literally breaking their pre-established "betrayer" character just to be fussy over Aventurine's safety and well-being. (Okay, and to double check on the plan, but let's be real, the first part was definitely more important. 👌)
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thepixelelf · 1 month
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warnings: coarse language. wc: 793
[the amnesia card always declines]
If there's one thing Joshua Hong has above all else, it's the audacity.
If there's two things, it's the audacity and the most grabbable, stupidly defined, makes-you-wanna-bite-into-them man tits you've ever seen in your godforsaken, miserable life.
Well, okay, maybe that counts as three things. Whatever.
"Oh my fucking god," you hiss, ducking closer to the coffee shop/bakery's table and hiding your entire head with both arms. "What is he doing here?!"
Soonyoung, the least subtle person you know (but you've given up on fixing him at this point) turns 180 degrees in his chair to watch the loser posing for a "totally casual" photoshoot outside. He hums in understanding, putting his hand under his chin like an experienced detective. "He must've seen your instagram story."
"He doesn't even follow me..."
"Oh, he's following you, alright." Soonyoung turns back around and stabs his fork into his strawberries 'n' cream croffle.
You glare at him over the pastries on the table. "Very funny."
"I know I am," he says with a dumb smile that says your sarcasm was not effective! "When are you going to stop holding your stupid grudge?"
An offended scoff escapes you. "It is a completely reasonable grudge, for your information."
"What, you being mad at him for...kissing you at that party?"
"For smooshing that stupid pretty face on mine at that party then acting like it never happened!" You slap your hands on the table, but as soon as you spot Joshua outside start to turn his head, you duck back into hiding.
Soonyoung points his fork at you. "He was drunk."
"So was I," you argue with a sneer. "But I remember everything-- especially you being the reason we had to cut the night short because you started drunk-crying and I had to take you home."
Suddenly capable of shame, Soonyoung scoots forward in his chair and leans over the table. "Have I mentioned that I love you and you're the best friend in the world?"
"Whatever, buddy." You roll your eyes. "Just remember all the shit I've done for you when I'm the one crying in the club."
"Crying in the club?" echoes Joshua--
Joshua?!
Your soul escapes your body entirely and jolts back in a nano-second. "Holy fuck--" You put a hand over your racing heart and send a death glare to the smug offender. "You scared the shit out of me!"
Joshua just smiles that stupidly pretty smile and, damn it, you're supposed to be ignoring this jackass.
"Sorry," he says, but he doesn't sound sorry at all. "Are you free?"
Making a face, you look over at Soonyoung, who just shrugs, then back at Joshua. "...Right now?"
"Right now is good." He nods in thought. "Or later today. Or tomorrow. If not, then the day after that. You've been avoiding me."
You force your shoulders to relax and avert your eyes. "No I haven't."
Joshua's expression suddenly goes solemn, which you notice because, shit, you started looking at him again. "Did I do something?"
At that, you scoff, crossing your arms and shaking your head in disbelief.
"Seriously. That party... I don't remember much, except that I've barely seen you since."
"Don't play the amnesia card on me, Josh. It's so tired."
His brows furrow, and your stupid fingers want to massage the hurt look right off his forehead. As if the dumbass deserves it.
"It's not amnesia," Joshua says. "But it's fuzzy. I can't tell what really happened that night or what was just my dream."
"Really? We're talking dreams now?"
He shrugs, crossing his arms, which fold just underneath those stupid, huge pecs... "I happen to dream about you a lot."
"Mmhm... Sure..." Are they bigger than the croffles? The melon buns? The... "Wait-- what?"
Joshua smiles, and you just know he caught you staring, the little shit. "I said, I dream about you a lot. Kiss scenes included."
Your jaw drops, maybe to the floor, but you can't be bothered to check. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Soonyoung make a perfect circle with his mouth before he hurriedly asks the barista if they serve popcorn.
"Joshua Hong, you..." Standing from your chair, you fist the collar of his fleece sweater in both hands, primed to throttle. "...are so fucking stupid."
Then somehow, even though you're the one who pulls him in, he's the one who takes your breath away.
When your lips part, though, you open your eyes while his stay closed, and he leans in again.
"Wait," you say, halting him with the one word. "How did you find me here?"
Wincing, Joshua peeks just one eye open. "Please don't be mad at him."
You whip around, but the bell over the shop's door is already tinging, and Soonyoung is dashing across the street like his life depends on it.
Good, because it does.
"Kwon Soonyoung! You are so fucking dead!"
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azsazz · 2 months
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Midnight Muse (Part 23)
Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]
Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 3,470
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] [Part 22] [Masterlist]
_________________________________________
“So…” Feyre trails off and your gaze slides to hers in the mirror from where you’re brushing on blush. Your first date with Azriel is tonight and you haven't been able to focus on anything all day. “You and Azriel?”
“Yeah,” you respond softly, trying to fight the smile that’s tugging at your lips. She already knows the news since she’d come back home this morning with Rhys in tow, trying to get you to come out for breakfast with them. When they saw Azriel padding out of your room shirtless, her jaw almost hit the floor. She was sputtering like a child and her boyfriend helped her get her bearings, violet eyes glittering as he grinned at Azriel. You had shrugged at each other as Rhysand guided Feyre back out the door with a cheerful goodbye. “Azriel and I.” Her brown brows are still furrowed and you don’t like that look, swiveling around in the mirror to face her. “Is it that crazy of a concept? I feel like this kind of thing happens all of the time.”
“In movies,” Cassian pipes up, exclaiming. He’s sitting on your bed next to your best friend, having invited himself over an hour ago.
You eye him. “What are you doing here again, Cass? Shouldn’t you be hyping Az up or something?”
“Nah, he has Rhys for that,” he winks over at Feyre who only raises her eyebrows in response. “I’m here because I’m seeing you off tonight.”
“You’re not my dad,” you scoff, fishing in your makeup bag for your mascara.
“But I’d let you call me that anytime, (Y/N),” he jokes and you shake your head fondly at him. 
“I’m sure Azriel is going to love to hear that you’ve been flirting again.” 
Cassian hugs one of your pillows to his chest, flipping through a book that you left on the table beside your bed. You wonder if he’ll find the page Azriel bookmarked for you when he’d been flipping through it, saying he’d slipped in a cheeky note for you to find along with the naughty  passage. “He knows what I’m about. And if he feels threatened, that’s on him. I can just remind him of all of the times he used to—” The ringing of his phone cuts off his sentence and he slides it from his pocket, checking the caller before answering, murmuring a quiet hello down the line.
He frowns and you cock your head, watching intently. It’s not a face you think you’ve ever seen Cassian do seriously, and the way that his body tenses, you wonder who could be on the other line. 
“Yeah, I’m on my way,” he says finally, hanging up the phone and springing up from your bed. He tosses the pillow back to the head of the bed and strides towards the door, a concerning pull to his eyebrows that has Feyre calling out to him as he makes for the door.
“Everything okay, Cassian?” 
“I, uh—yeah, everything’s fine. I have to go,” he says but his mind is already in another place. “See you later.”
You and Feyre share a look in the mirror.
“So much for seeing me off.” 
She grins at you, sliding off of your bed to join you in front of the mirror. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here to do that.”
“Thanks,” you laugh, capping the mascara and putting it away. Leaning back a little, you admire your makeup in the mirror. “So, how are you and Rhys doing?” 
You feel like you haven’t spent much time with Feyre lately, with her busy with her boyfriend and you busy with yours. Your boyfriend, the words have you giddy. You and Azriel are officially a couple now and everything feels right. There are no more late nights spent trying to get him to shut his music off or glaring at him when his eyes wander your way. Now, your nights are spent talking and kissing and touching. Lots and lots of touching.
Your heart stutters happily in your chest. 
Feyre sighs dreamily. “He’s so great. I’m really glad we decided to move here this year, (Y/N).” 
“Me too,” you grin stupidly at her and the both of you break out in giggles. “Fey, will you help me pick out some jewelry?”
Azriel told you to dress casually, something with jeans because somehow he convinced you to get back on that death-trap he holds so dear to his heart. It’s a sunny afternoon out, no clouds in sight, and it eases you slightly that you won’t have to ride it in the rain again, no matter how much you enjoyed being pressed up against him.
Now that you’re Azriel’s girlfriend, you’re free to press up against him whenever you want. 
Naked, too.
“Here,” she says, hooking a necklace around your neck. She clasps it for you and you can’t help but stare at the blue gem that sits at the base of your neck, glittering in the light. It looks good, you think. 
“Is it weird to be nervous?” you ask, playing with the pendent. “We’ve already had sex but I’m still feel all jittery.”
“Being nervous is completely normal,” Feyre answers, patting you on the shoulder. ���You have to promise to tell me all about it when you get home.”
“I will,” you shoo her playfully, “I promise.” 
You and Feyre chat lightly as you wait and it helps ease your nerves a little. She tells you about how excited she is about Halloween and asks if you think the both of you could convince the three boys next door to do a group costume with you. Cassian’s already been bragging about the insane pre-game party he throws every year before a night out at the bars, and you know you can easily get him on board. 
A knock at the door sends your nerves skyrocketing again. You smooth down your shirt as Feyre rounds the corner to open the door, crossing her arms over her chest like a stern mother meeting her daughter's boyfriend for the first time.
She squeals when the door swings open to Rhysand on the other side. He laughs, sweeping her into his arms and guiding her backwards in his hug. 
Your breath leaves your body at the sight of Azriel. He looks effortlessly handsome, his hair fingered through with a little gel even though he knows it’s going to be messed up from his helmet. His golden eyes gleam, crinkling at the corners with a smile when he catches your gaze.
He’s dressed in a simple black t-shirt but wears his leather jacket over it, the same one he had wrapped around your shoulders that night you spent in the rain. It’s pulled tight across his shoulders but he doesn’t seem to mind because the worn leather is comfortable.
Of course, he has his dark jeans on, and you catch his riding gloves peeking out of his pocket. 
You move to him like a moth to a flame, eagerly accepting the kiss he bends down to give you.
“You look amazing,” he breathes against your lips, never able to part from you. Never wanting to part from you.
“Thank you, you look very handsome,” you compliment, holding him close by the flaps of his jacket. 
“Ready to go?” he asks, and you nod eagerly, turning to say goodbye to Feyre and Rhys, who has his arms wrapped around her as they watch the two of you, grinning like fools.
“Where’s Cassian?” Rhysand asks, looking around the room. “I figured he’d be all up in Azriel’s business right now, playing the part.”
Feyre shrugs, answering. “We don’t know. He got a phone call and left right after.” Azriel and Rhys share a look that you can’t make out before Feyre’s continuing, sternly, “Don’t keep her out too late.” She points a finger at Azriel. He looks like he’s trying his best to stop himself from rolling his eyes and you stifle your laugh in the crook of your arm.
“Yes, ma’am,” he salutes, “See ya, Rhysie. Don’t have sex too loud tonight. Or on the couch.” 
Rhysand only smirks in response. “Why? Is it your turn?” 
Feyre smacks his chest and you drag Azriel out of the apartment before she can go at her boyfriend for that joke. You’ve all heard worse before from Cassian, so the quip rolls off of your shoulders easily…aaaand now you’re thinking about fucking Azriel on the couch.
“If we fuck on any couch, it’s going to be yours,” you comment as you step onto the elevator with him. Their couch is both bigger and comfier. You wouldn’t let Azriel suffer on your cheap, navy couch that you and Feyre got for a bargain.
“Fantasizing about fucking me on my couch, princess?” Azriel hums, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. The elevator feels almost stifling with the heat between you two, his eyes glittering with interest. “We can definitely make that fantasy come true. Do you have any others I should know about?” 
“No,” you answer all too quickly, and you try not to think too hard about the intrigue that flares in his gold eyes. “How about you?” you aim the question back at Azriel as the elevator comes to a stop on the first floor, doors creaking open slowly.
You can feel his gaze on your face as he studies you, and he doesn’t answer until you’ve left the building, Azriel holding the door open for you. “No,” he answers, but you know it’s a lie. 
It sparks interest in you, and when you cut him a glance from the corner of your eye, he’s smirking. 
Two can play at this game, apparently. 
Azriel shrugs out of his jacket and you’re taken back to the night when he’d given you a ride home in the storm as he helps you into it, admiring you in the loved leather before he tugs you closer. The smell of him is intoxicating to your senses and you don’t even care that the soon to be setting sun is warmer than usual because being encompassed in his jacket makes your heart flutter. 
You’re pressed all up against his front and Azriel can’t help himself but to grin along with you, dipping his head down for one more kiss. He chuckles as your lips chase his, pressing up into him on your tiptoes to follow. Azriel plucks one of the helmets strapped to the back of his motorcycle and helps you into it with the promises of more kisses to follow throughout the night.
You have to squeeze your thighs together when he shoves his own helmet over that dark hair of his. He looks hot as fuck standing there with his tattoos on display, peeking out from under the sleeves of his shirt and creeping up his neck. Said t-shirt clings tightly to his chest as if he’s worn it because he knows what it does to you, and you follow the lines down his long body to his tight waist.
“Earth to princess,” Azriel calls, rapping on your helmet with his knuckles. You startle from your ogling, glaring up at him. The crinkles around his eyes and the shaking of his shoulders are clear signs of his amusement, and you can’t resist that blush that stains your cheeks. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah,” you answer, but it’s a bit muffled from the helmet. Azriel helps you on his bike and when you’re settled behind him, he takes your hands and pulls them tight around his waist. 
“Hold on tight,” Azriel reminds you and your heart picks up its pace at both the proximity of your boyfriend and the fact that you’ve somehow allowed him to talk you into getting on the damned thing again. You tighten your thighs around his waist, wiggling even closer to him to make sure you’ve got a firm hold, and he groans like a man shot. “You keep grinding up against me like that, princess, and we’re going to go right back upstairs to that couch.” 
That doesn’t sound so bad, you think. You don’t have to endure a nerve-wracking ride on the motorcycle where all you’ll be able to think about is how much your body might slide if you fall and you’d get to see Azriel’s pretty dick.
As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, Azriel takes off without another warning. You squeak softly, squeezing your eyes shut tight as he pulls away from the building. 
You’re pretty sure he can feel the pounding of your heart against his back because at the first stop sign his hands come down to trace the length of your thighs, reassuring you with his touch. It helps settle you some, enough to peek your eyes open and watch the houses pass you by.
At some point in the ride, you actually find yourself enjoying it, muscles relaxing but your body still pressed in tightly to Azriel. You’re enjoying the feeling of the wind on your skin, pulling at your clothes and the feeling of Azriel’s warmth seeping through your front. You can understand how he feels so at ease like this, like a bat swooping through the night sky.
You arrive a few towns over where Azriel parks against a curb. It’s an artsy looking town, murals covering the sides of brick buildings, colorful storefronts calling to you left and right. The streets are bright from the streetlights and filled with laughter and a positive aura that stirs excitement in you, even more so when Azriel takes your hand.
“You okay?” He asks, a touch of concern flushing through those golden eyes. “The ride wasn’t too rough, was it?” 
You shake your head, smirking up at him. “I’ve had rougher.” 
He snorts, tugging you into him for a hug because your body pressed all hot up against his wasn’t enough. Azriel walks you down a block and down a pair of stairs. The walls are filled with graffiti and you look around in wonder while Azriel checks in with the young looking boy behind the counter. 
He finds you, head tilted and eyebrows furrowed as you try and discern the oddly shaped letters painted on the wall before you. You have no idea what the word is supposed to say, it’s bright red coloring stark against the deep teal wall it’s painted on.
“Here you go.” Azriel hands you coveralls and you scrunch your face in confusion. He has his own pair, a deep navy, and in his free hand he holds two respirators. 
“What’s all this for?” you ask, examining the beige jumpsuit he’s handed you. It’s clean and fresh, so you won’t complain.
“We’re spray painting,” Azriel answers almost sheepishly. At his tentative tone you look up, and you nearly grin. His cheeks are filled with warmth and you think this is the closest you’ve ever seen him to bashful. 
“We are?” you ask, eager all of a sudden. You know it’s something Azriel said that he, Rhysand, and Cassian have fooled around with, and you’ve always enjoyed seeing the many tags and artwork created on buildings and trains. You even researched Bansky for one of your high school papers, finding his reasoning behind his works vastly intriguing, but you’ve never tried the medium yourself. “This is going to be fun!”
Azriel’s shoulders droop in relief. He hadn’t been one hundred percent confident in this choice for a date, but he thought dinner at a restaurant wouldn’t be enough to impress you and that going to see a movie was much too cliche.
He smiles softly, reveling in the excitement in your eyes. “I think so too.” 
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
“Where do you get your inspiration from?” you ask Azriel, voice sounding muffled through the mask as you watch him paint a long, black line down the wall. The fan’s in the room are loud so you have to shout. You’d seemed nervous when you stepped into the room, cans of spray paint littered around the floor, the walls filled with intimidating artwork that you hardly had the heart to paint over, but now you’re most definitely enjoying yourself.
Azriel had been a reassurance from the get-go, explaining that everyone who booked time here comes in knowing that whatever they paint is going to be gone when the next guests arrive, so there’s no pressure to put on yourself, only to have fun.
And it is fun, getting a feeling for the can in your hand, how hard to press, how far to hold the can from the wall. Azriel showed you some techniques, guiding your hands in different motions to create perfect circles, to get the paint drips you were eyeing from someone else’s work. The only complaint you have about this date is that the masks make it difficult to kiss Azriel, who you’ve wanted to jump since he’d pressed his body flush against yours when showing you how to paint funky letters, his other hand a solid weight on your hip. 
You’ve been in awe of him all night, sneaking looks over your shoulder at what he was painting; a skeleton stallion with a skeleton riding it, sword raised as if leading an army of the dead into war. He’s skilled in many mediums and your heart aches as you wonder how it’s possible that he hasn’t been able to receive an apprenticeship yet.
Something stings in your chest. The way that Azriel draws, paints, tattoos…there’s a confidence there that you’re envious of. Every spray he makes seems so sure, so well laid it’s like he can see the end result as he’s working. You yearn to feel like that.
“What do you mean?” he asks, eyes flicking to yours for a moment before returning to his work, letting you know that you have his full attention. You’re in the midst of painting the skeleton horse's eyes a bright neon green, whispers of black shadows swimming from its nostrils.
You sigh, abandoning your can of paint and wiping the remnants of the pigment on your coveralls. “All this time I’ve known that I want to be in art, that I want to do something with it, but everytime I make something, it never feels good enough. Like I’m not as proud of it as I should be. I don’t have a style like you or Feyre do, and, if I do, I haven’t noticed it yet.”
Azriel fully stops what he’s doing and turns to you. His hand comes up to caress your jaw, tilt your head up to look at him. His eyes are soft with concern and there’s a wrinkle between his brow that makes you want to reach up and smooth it out, suddenly embarrassed that you’ve brought this up during your perfectly good date.
“Is that how you feel?” he asks, and you shrug shyly. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all, but it’s been something that eats at you, day by day. “It sounds like you’re missing a muse, princess.” 
You frown. “A what?” 
“A muse,” Azriel repeats simply. “Something that inspires you.” 
Something that inspires you. You toss the words around in your head, thinking. Surely, you find things inspiring. You wrack your brain trying to come up with something, something that keeps you captivated, gives you the urge to put your pencils to your paper and create something beautiful…but there’s nothing. 
“So, you’re saying you inspire yourself?” you tease, thinking back to his exhibition. You tease, because if you don’t laugh, you might cry. You can see the glint of amusement in his eyes, and you continue your soft jab. “How very narcissistic of you, Az.” 
Azriel rolls his eyes and before you can joke further, he’s lifting his can of spray paint and marking you with a big heart across the entire front of your coveralls. Your mouth drops open in shock but his smirk makes the feeling roll right between your thighs. 
“I believe that muses have the ability to change,” he answers your earlier question. He’s staring down at you intently, and maybe he’s waiting for you to pick up a can and retaliate. Or maybe he’s thinking exactly what you’re thinking: trying to find someplace to tear each other's clothes off. 
“Oh, yeah?” you ask defiantly. You want to cross your arms over your chest but you don’t want to ruin his work. It feels like you’ve been branded by him, claimed by his artistic talent, and something flares within you at the very idea. “What’s your muse now?” 
Azriel doesn’t answer but he doesn’t need to. The way he seems to be devouring you with his eyes tells you all you need to know about who his current muse is.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
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nouvxllev · 2 months
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Hi, love your writing! I have a request where reader and Jenna are in a long distance relationship and reader decides to surprise Jenna after hearing Jenna’s been having a tough week filming or something. Just something along those lines haha
a flight away
Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader
Summary: ^^ request!!!
Words: 3.1k
Warnings: bittersweet
a/n: first of all,, thank you so much!!!! and second of all, ill try my best! hope this is to ur liking anon
masterlist
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You didn't know what you were getting into the first thing in the morning when you checked your phone at exactly 6:34 AM.
Normally, you'd do the routine where you stare at your wallpaper (it was a picture of Jenna) for a good 20 minutes before internally dying inside because of why should she be such a hardworking woman to the point you only get to see her for about 1-2 months before leaving again, but then fall in love with her like it was the first time for that exact reason entirely.
Now, you woke up to Jenna's notifications flooding her digital face, more voicemails and missed calls rather than messages.
Obviously, you panicked out of your fucking mind.
You knew she was safe in Ireland where she was filming season 2 of Wednesday. She has more bodyguards around her than people trying to get her autograph, and she has her co-stars with her at all times.
She was safe. Safe. The word almost sounded like a prayer you repeated in your head as you eyed her messages.
You couldn't open the voicemail for the reasons that you might hear an announcement that Jenna has got into some serious shit and might need to be hospitalized and you absolutely need to be there for her right now.
But after 5 minutes of going through all stages of grief, you pressed play.
You were not expecting Jenna to outright scream at her phone in the middle of the night.
"Y/n. Y/n, I—God, I don't even know where to start with this. I'm just so… so tired. From everything, from everyone. I don't know why, seriously, I don't know why but i just—I just broke down when I came back to my apartment."
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I have to message you like this in the middle of the night. I'm doing well in Ireland, but I'm having such a rough fucking time in shooting every scene. It's not like I hate everyone on the set, I love them, I… I don't know."
"I need you, please Y/n. Even if it's just your voice, just please give me a piece of your presence. I need something to hold on, someone to tell me that it's going to be okay and I'll get through this. I know, it's a bit overdramatic but… I just miss you so damn much, and this distance is killing me more than ever. We haven't seen eachother atleast a year now. I'm so tired."
"Please pick up, y/n. It's selfish for me to ask, but I just want to hear you. It feels like I'm losing myself in all of this. I don't want to break down in front of everyone on set tomorrow. But, y/n. Y/n, y/n, y/n, it's so hard."
"I love you. I love you so much. So damn much, it's killing me. I miss New York, I miss our home, I miss you. I wish you were here. I'm sorry for letting you hear me like this over the phone, it's unbecoming. I love you, goodnight."
Your heart sank.
It was all too surreal, all too agonizing, like you feel bile coming up to your throat.
The daunting feeling of Jenna experiencing all of these emotions at once dragged your heart, her voice like a film tape in your mind as if were right there with Jenna in her room.
You heard her cry, you watched her curl herself up on her mattress all while she clung to her phone as if it was your hand she wished she held everyday.
You craved for the warmth of her hand, and you imagine she craves yours as much as you do with hers while you longed to be there with her, for her. To hold her close to you and offer the comfort she needed. The very touch that healed every scar, present and future, was replaced by the lifeless screen of your phone.
You were there, you swear you're there, but you couldn't do anything but listen.
On top of everything, you blamed yourself.
You called her almost everyday, the long-distance relationship being almost a mere label to the both of you.
You texted her every morning and went to bed with her every night. You were there, always. Yet, it felt like you neglected her. Like a piece of you was missing before you even realized it.
Now all you can think about are her restless nights.
The days where Jenna staged a performance with a heavy heart while you smiled with joy, the nights where you slept peacefully in your own bed while Jenna tossed and turned in discomfort in something unfamiliar, sacrificing her rest for your peaceful evenings to remain the same.
You don't know how many days she's been like this, nor do you want to know, the thought was unbearable enough.
And you almost feel bad of booking a plane ticket rather than responding to her. You were just a flight away anyways.
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Shit, her head hurts.
Hammering, actually.
Like someone cracked it open with an axe made out of obsidian right down the middle and served it to her on a silver platter.
She never should've accepted that afterparty invite from Georgie.
If she never got absolutely wasted to shots from bottles of alcohol, maybe Jenna would've had the brain capacity to curse him under her breath for being such a good damn friend.
Worst of all, she was missing someone. Horribly.
You.
Not just you, but everything of you.
Your scent, your warmth, your presence, your heartbeat against hers—a cruel reminder on how she was missing all of these.
She longed to hear the way you laugh as if you heard the funniest joke ever, the way you smile at Jenna as if she was a saint that had done nothing wrong, the way you loved her oh so dearly like she was the only person that made you crawl out of your skin in a good way.
Now it was taken from her. All of it. She felt like she was nothing without her muse, which was actually the case here.
Jenna was supposed to stay for a year with you—a whole fucking year! A whole year was watered down to a pathetic one to two months because of a change in filming schedule that Jenna had, somehow, no right to turn down.
That's not even half of the time Jenna spent miles away from you, and she couldn't even apologize properly in person since she had to depart so early in the morning.
The thought of you expecting Jenna to wake up beside you with a smile and a kiss only to be woken up with a cold bed with a note apologizing a million times made her flight to another country worse.
She would've been happier if the plane crashed then she would be begging to whatever afterlife she was in to bring her back to the living and spend her life with you.
It's gotten to that point where she looked just like Wednesday off-cam if not worse. She even almost snapped at Emma when she tried consoling her.
Now she sits in her trailer, on a chair, not with you, but with... a chair. Along with her script on a table.
Jenna tried a few lines, repeated them, tried a few lines, repeated them, and it all just comes back full circle.
No matter what she does, she still fucking missed you and wished she could just tell everyone she wanted and needed a nap along with her girlfriend by her side until it reaches winter of 2025.
She could take a nap right now, but you weren't with her. The cold surface would make you appear in her dreams like the loving parasite you are to her and she would only yearn more.
She could take a walk right now, but little ice cream shops along the way would only make her reminisce about the times you would take her out on dates every damn day like you had buckets on buckets of gold to spend it all on Jenna. She would only miss you even more.
She could talk to one of her co-stars, but they weren't you. The stupid and fuckass conversations you'd often bring up, they wouldn't do that. Even if they did, it wouldn't have the same effect.
Why did life suddenly become so difficult when she now has the most gorgeous, talented, and loving girlfriend a billion miles away from her!?
After putting her arms over her eyes, trying to calm down the impending woe and sadness she was facing, a soft knock on her door interrupted all of it.
"Jenna?" She heard Emma's voice, soft like she was hesitant to talk to her if not for Jenna responding with a hum, "we've been calling you for 5 minutes now. It's our scene."
Her voice was serious, though quiet. Or maybe that was just concern, Jenna has been distant for a while now.
Letting out a sigh, she replied, "Right, I'll be there in a minute."
She pulled herself up from the chair. She didn't really need to return to the makeup team, just thankful she didn't cry herself to death thinking about you.
She turned her back to see Emma standing in front of the door, half opened, peering half of her body, "Jenna, you know you can take a break if you want—"
Jenna only offered a weak smile, her steps matching Emmas as they walked over to set, "It's fine. Don't worry about me too much."
Her thoughts are too different from what she was saying, but it wasn't like she could say she'd rather kill herself before even stepping foot out of her trailer without seeing y/n.
"Jenna!" Tim Burton called her out, his voice calm, stretching out her name like he was going to say something completely off-guard.
The girl in question was already staring him down as he spoke, "We've got a change in script"
The girl in question was already staring him down as he spoke, "We've got a change in script. Nothing too big, just that we've added a new extra that Wednesday needs to interact with on this scene."
Isn't that a slight bit unprofessional?
Jenna could let out the most exhausted and exasperated sigh if not for Tim being the one of the sweetest, yet often odd, directors she ever worked with.
"Yeah, sure, can I atleast meet this person—"
"Sorry, Jenna," He lead her to the place she needed to be, the extra in question being no where near in Jenna's sight, "but this is really a last minute change and we just need you both to improvise."
"Wait, but—!"
Her protests were already too late, looking like it went through one ear and out the other through the audio. She was just grateful she had enough training and years in this industry to immediately get into character.
It was supposed to be her scene with Emma, lurking in the woods, a lantern between her fingers as they approached a silhouette of a figure.
Now it was just Jenna in the scene, lurking in the woods, leaves crunching under her combat boots as she watched the camera move alongside her body, not a lantern but rather a flashlight gripped on her palm.
She was informed that the silhouette in question was one of her co-stars that she had met before hand, a tall figure in the distance that she could immediately distinguish based on the back alone.
Now... it's... not exactly what she was expecting to see when she got in character.
She approached the figure, confused as ever, not because it was in her script to do so, but she was actually so damn confused it wouldn't be a surprise to her if she was imagining things.
Because the silhouette looked exactly like you.
Jenna knew you from the slightest shade of your skin, even when it's so damn dark outside.
She knew you from the way you stood, the way you sometimes would do whatever it is with your hands when idle, the way you'd often slightly tilt your head back when you're suppressing a hard giggle—which you were and failing to do so—the way you, in your own words by the way, aren't a good actress for Jenna to practice her lines on without laughing like a total maniac.
Holy shit.
Jenna's mind raced, all too fast for her liking, her heart pounding in her chest, and her body almost in flames at the thought of you being here. Finally being here.
It couldn't be real, of course it wouldn't, why would you be on set in fucking Ireland? It must be a trick, much so a figment of her imagination and maybe more or less girlfriend deprived of everything you gave her. But as she drew closer, her steps doing all but walking slowly to the silhouette, it because unmistakable who it was.
It was you.
Her best friend ever since she learned how to act in middle school, a friend that stuck with her forever even in times where you could've left her all alone.
Her girlfriend. The girlfriend of almost a few years that she loved and cherished with all her might, even if she were to commit a sin, there would be no greater wrong than Jenna disliking you.
It was her home. At last.
Without a second thought, Jenna abandoned everything, forgetting that she was even supposed to be the character she was and rushed towards her, arms already stretched in a desperate embrace to feel your warmth against her body once again. Your heartbeat against hers. It was all too surreal, all too fucking real.
Jenna threw herself into your arms, wrapping you in a tight hug that almost knock you both off of balance in the dirt. Your body stumbling forwards as your back was faced on her.
You still smelled like New York, mixed with that familiar airpot scent that Jenna always got used to. But now, it felt so new, so new that you were hugging her, touching her like it was the last symphony you'd play in your life.
She hugged you, tight. Her hands gripping your clothes like you'd disappear in a matter of seconds. You can hear her taking deep breaths against your body, gulps, and her hold tightening onto you with each passing moment.
As you turned around, you waited for Jenna to slowly loosen her grip, her eyes searching yours as if she still could hardly believe that you were here, standing in front of her after all this time apart. And now, you couldn't believe devotion was still present in her eyes, that warm of a gaze that you always managed to capture in her eyes.
"You're here. Y/n, you're—" She sniffed, looking up at you as she cupped your cheeks, a stray tear trickling down her eyes that shimmered, "You're really here." She whispered, her voice cracking almost to a fault. Her voice was fragile, it crushed you. "Why, how? What, I don't under—"
You smiled softly, chuckling even, you didn't expect it to go this way. "That's not part of the script, Wednesday." You joked, even if it was a serious moment, you always seemed to have one.
"You're not part of the script, why are you here!?"
You reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from Jenna's fringe as Wednesday, your touch gentle and reassuring like it never changed over the years. It was still there, your love was still there, and you were waiting for your lover to come back once in your arms to show how much you missed her oh so dearly.
"I missed you." You simply said, slightly swaying the both of you back and forth
Jenna couldn't say anything, let alone form a few words, but the way she hugged you yet again after a few seconds of silence with such tenderness and compassion, it said everything that you needed to know.
Everything that you lost and you hold today, nothing mattered. Not even the heart that wouldn't stop beating against your chest, it wouldn't matter if you died, atleast it was in her arms.
"So I don't get to have an I miss you back?"
Jenna pulled back slightly, you can see how her eyes glistened looking if it was something that not even renaissance artists could sclupt.
"You don't know how many nights I've spent crying because of how I missed you." She mumbled, voice below a whisper, her mouth hung open from her slight crying, taking a deep breath as she let herself be in the most vulnerable state with you yet.
"You cried?"
"Without you? Terribly so."
Your heart ached when Jenna started to cry, she looked small. Smaller than ever in your arms when you once held her for the first time when she became a busy actress.
She broke down, almost melting in your presence as you try to hold her up. You knew there were cameras rolling, that there were people on set watching this go down, but you knew that you were the only one witnessing her vulnerable state, no matter how many people would see right through her.
You reached up to gently wipe away the tears that streaked down her cheeks, her freckles being in view, something that you missed so dearly, your touch light and tender as you held her—your world—in your hands.
"I wish I could've been there for you," you regretted, "I wish I was there every night, to wipe away the inevitable tears that would grace your face, to hold you in my arms every night.
Jenna shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips, "all that matters is that you're here with me." She chuckled. "Why are you here?"
"Booking a small plane ticket from New York to here was the smallest price to pay for the chance to hold you in my arms once again."
"You know those are expensive, y/n," she scolded you, yet her tone was playful. "How long are you planning to stay?"
You hummed, a grin curling on your lips, "As long as you want me to be here," you replied, "I can't go back when I don't have a return ticket."
Jenna leaned into your touch, her eyes closing as she savored the warmth of your embrace, she didn't know how much she took advantage of this until now. She was afraid you'll be leaving soon, even with all assurances, everything you'll be giving her wouldn't be enough to ease her fears of you departing from her soul once more.
"I love you, y/n. Too much."
"I love you too, Jenna. You know I was only a flight away."
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Y: i heard your voicemails, by the way. J: i sent voicemails?
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a/n: sorry if this request was so so so late!! i still have more requests in my inbox and they'll probably be delayed for a couple of days or maybe even weeks because of exams. buttt ill try to post as much as i can with requests and super sorry in advance to those who requested! ill be updating future posts in my masterlists
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kadwrites · 9 months
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office scandal | T.S
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summary ; polly takes you with her to run an errand.
warnings ; arranged marriage trope, bad writing?!! , typos maybe (english isn't my first language)
a/n ; i almost lost my mind writing this. hopefully the accents are better and polly is well portrayed? lmk what you think <3
_
you're still on your bed, your friends are on it too this time. madeline and fiona , are on either side of you, kneeling on your mattress.
"what do ya mean y're gettin' married ?" madeline looks at you with a crooked smile, she thinks you're messing with her.
fiona is just staring at you with her head tilted
"i mean i am to be wed, betrothed, spoken for,"
"okay stop." fiona puts a hand up , "when did ya decide to do that? i thought ya were waitin' to get swept off yer feet"
you sigh, leaning back and letting the back of your head hit the bed frame "it just ... 'appened..."
madeline and fiona look at eachother before looking at you
"what are ya not tellin' us?"
"yeah , what are ya hidin' ?"
you look at them both, you contemplate telling them. you haven't really spoken about this whole ordeal to anyone , not really. and its been a week and a half already
"i um" your eyes drop to your hands "my parents chose 'im for me"
"yer parents?" fiona asks with a raised brow "and how exactly did they convince ya to do that?"
"its a long story" you wave a dismissive hand
"so ya know who he is?" madeline copies fiona, tilting her head too "do we know 'im as well?"
"i think everyone in birmingham knows 'im" you mutter under your breath
"who the fuck are ya marryin'?the king of england?"
you just stare at them, you lick your lips "ya got to keep yer knickers intact."
they both nod,
"its thomas shelby"
"what?" fiona's face drops , her voice does too.
madeline just snorts a laugh and then then goes quiet and just looks at you, "y're jokin' right?"
you take a deep breath "no , i am not jokin' "
"what do ya mean y're marryin' thomas shelby?" madeline gets closer to you "how?"
"i don't know..." just look back at them, your voice soft too.
"do ya want this?" madeline asks again
"it's complicated really..."
"no its not, ya either do or ya don't" fiona's hands grab yours "do ya not want this?"
you lick your lips, you take a moment to think , howare you going to even phrase this "i do,"
"ya do know who he is right?" madeline stares at you with a confused look "he isn't just any man"
"i know who he is..." you sigh
"then how are ya willing to marry 'im?" fiona never spoke so seriously before
"i 'ave my reasons"
"i hope that they're good enough for ya to put yourself through this" madeline chimes in again
you just close your eyes and let yourself plop back against the mattress, fiona and madeline share another look.
" 'ave you seen 'im?" madeline laid next to you
"yeah" you say with a chuckle , your mind flashing images of him on the sofa.
"is he really a dish?"
madeline smacks fiona on her arm and fiona rubs it with a frown "what! ya were thinkin' that too!"
you roll your eyes, but a small smile plays at your lips "he isn't bad lookin' i suppose."
madeline looks at you with a raised brow
"fine, he's a dish, happy?" you mumble , as if it pained you to admit it
"at least one of us will be fuckin' someone attractive"
"i thought ya liked callum" madeline frowns
"i love ya madeline i do, but callum isn't exactly a sight for the sore eyes"
"when's the weddin'?"
you look at madeline "i dont know , we 'ave yet to speak about that"
"i bet it's gonna be grand , ey?" fiona wiggles her brows
"well if i'm marryin' one of the wealthiest man in birmingham i might as well make at an occasion"
"wait , did you 'ave an engagement party already?" madeline asks, with a gasp and a hand on her chest
"if i did, ya would've been there."
"he has a son , ya know" fiona's voice goes back to its soft tone
you hum and nod "he told me about 'im"
"he did?" madeline asks with a smile
"what did he say?"
"that he wants a wife that can take care of 'im,"
"won't be long till you start poppin' out babies too" fiona mumbles
"whats that supposed to mean?" you ask with a chuckle
"with a husband this good lookin'? i give ya three months, and ya'll have a little one in that belly"
"don't speak that into existence!"
"i mean..." madeline says with a smirk "look at celest, she got pregnant with sarah , what? 4 or 5 months after she got married?"
"please don't open this topic of conversation" you beg as you rub your hand over your face "im stressed as it is."
all the of you turn to look at the door when you hear is open and celest's head peaks in "polly gray is here"
madeline and fiona turn to look at eachother then at you
"why?"
"i don't know but she's waitin' for ya" celest shrugs
"i'll be right there" you get off the bed and open the doors to your closet, looking for something to wear
"polly gray ? she's the shelbys aunt isnt she?"
"what does she want with ya?"
you change your clothes in a hurry, mind racing with possibilities "im not sure" you just mumble as you put on your blouse.
they watch you as you fix your hair and then go downstairs.
"mrs gray" you say with a polite smile as you walk into the living room "to what do i owe the pleasure"
she looks at you with a look thats eerily similar to her nephew's,and you try to not turn and walk back up the stairs
"we 'ave some business to attend to"
"we do?" your brows furrow "at this time?" it was 6 in the evening after all.
"yes"
"okay." you try not to snap your own neck at that response.
you get into her car as she drives, you two sitting in awkward silence "where are we goin' ?"
she glances at you before glancing back at the road and you just don't ask again but then you see your destination, shelby company limited and you think you might just not get out of that car but you do. your heels click against the floor when you walk through the dark halls.
there aren't many people there considering the work day has already ended, but you see a woman. she's young, around your age maybe. and she greets polly, completely ignoring you but you chalk it up to maybe the fact that it's polly gray is standing next to you.
"good evenin' , mrs gray" her voice is almost sickly sweet
"do you know who this is?" she asks her, nodding at you.
she looks you up and down and then shakes her head "nah, i can't say i do."
"she's tommy shelby's fiancé."
"i didn't know he was engaged" her lashes flutter and her lips twitch as she tries to maintain her smile.
"ya do now , don't ya?" polly stares that woman down "an' i hope it doesn't escape yer mind"
you just watch as the color drains out of her face as she excuses herself and scurries back to her work.
"what the fuck was that about?" it escapes your mouth before you even think, polly turns to you "that poor girl"
"in a place like this , ya either put yer fucking foot down and let everyone know what yer place is before they decide for themselves." her voice is stern, its firm and it makes you stand straighter "an' that poor girl wants to fuck yer fiancée"
"what?" your voice is squeaky, its high pitched. "how could you possibly know that?"
"anyone with eyes can fuckin' see that."
"i.." your words die when you look at her and you realize, she's helping you. "why are ya doin' this for me?"
"i know ya might not had the control that ya wanted over who yer husband is" her tone doesn't change when she speaks "so i'll give ya one piece of advice, ya can't marry tommy if ya don't 'ave a backbone. it'll be easier for ya to kill yerself than to live with 'im."
you know polly, but not well. she and your father knew eachother as children , your father is part gypsy himself. you remember meeting her a handful of times as a child but you were always too scared to talk to her for very long.
ironically, your mother didn't like the lifestyle her nephews led, she didn't want her children to be involved in it so you didn't get to see polly much throughout your life.
but you do remember one thing vividly and its her telling you to bite your brother back whenever he bothered you "or ya'll just show 'im that he can treat ya like that for the rest of yer life, ya dont want that now do ya?" . and you did do just that when abraham tugged on your braids a mere 10 minutes later, and polly winked at you , as she sipped her tea and you just stood there smiling proudly even though your mother was yelling at you for making your brother cry.
when you hear another pair of steps walking towards you, you both turn to see tommy. he's in his usual getup sans the jacket, a cigarette hanging from his lip and his glasses are on , his hands in his pocket.
"are ya done terrorizin' my secretary?"
polly just looks at him and walks past him "i'll leave ya two to it then."
and you were left there with him, blinking at that interaction.
"terrorizin' ? thats a bit of an exaggeration"
_
@tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator
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the-alice-killer · 3 months
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Advice for newer discovered systems:
A hard truth you might not want to hear: but sometimes you need to put finding things out about the system on the back burner. Sometimes you will need to just push it to the side and come back to it later. This is something I've seen other systems also express before as well.
Think you have a new alter, but you have an important school assignment to do? The alter can wait. Unless they decide to make their presence everyone's business, just leave it be and go looking for them after you do the assignment
Think you have a subsystem, but have life to be doing? You can come back to that topic when you have free time. It isn't that important at the moment
Worried because you haven't heard from an alter for awhile? Don't drop everything to try and get them to front. Just go about your day and they'll come back when they're needed
Think you're splitting? Just take some pain meds for the headache if you need and go about your day. You can figure out who split when you have more time.
Basically, don't drop everything because you want to find out about something. Don't obsess over it to the point you can't function in daily life or get stressed over it. These things will be learned when it is time. Stop trying to check all these imaginary boxes immediately.
Seriously, we've known about the system for about 4 years and we still don't know shit about how things work half the time. And we only take a look into things when we have a chance to. Our job and life are a bit more important than figuring out who the hell might be in this newly revealed layer and stuff like that. We know the time will come to learn. It just isn't right now
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ethereallyjade · 3 months
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Pick a Card: Where is Your F/S?
Choose a photo that calls to you and the cards will tell you a message. As always, this is just for fun. Do not take anything seriously or above legal or medical advice. If your interested in personal tarot readings and want to support me, check out my Paid Readings! Masterlist
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1 - 3
Images are not mine
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Pile 1
Channeled Messages: "Fly high , little one. Fly high," empty, ducks in a row, distracted, just can't get it right
Okay, this is good energy here. Where are they? They are partying. Some sort of gathering or celebration. Something that's giving them a lot of inspiration. I'm almost feeling like this celebration isn't necessarily for them, but it's kick starting them to fulfill something on their own. It's kind of opening their eyes to something they haven't seen before and it's making them feel free from something they were struggling with in the past. This idea could lead them to make a hell of a lot more money, or maybe this celebration is due to them making more money and now they feel more comfortable and stable to pursue something they've been thinking about for a while. Wherever they're at, they're feeling a sense of joy, success, and youthfulness that they haven't felt in a while.
Pile 2
Channeled Messages: indented, stopping to think, CONTEMPLATIVE, mirror image, butterfly, spoon, shiver/cold
I had to stop and brainstorm a few times before doing this reading, so your person might be very in their head right now, for better or worse. Okay, we got all cards in reverse, so it's probably for worse. They are stuck somewhere. Hopefully not literally. I keep seeing a picture of a room. Maybe they're in 'hermit mode' right now, which is funny since I didn't actually pull that card. However, instead of working on themselves and healing like the hermit typically intends, maybe they're just hiding away in fear; spiraling with thought after thought about something. It's healthy to allow yourself to feel or to need time away every now and then, but I'm seeing they have definitely overextended their stay. The cards are saying 'its time to go now'. I'm seeing a shaded, quiet room with empty bottles and candy wrappers. I'm hearing they may have spent the past few months in a constant state of alertness which caused them a ton of stress which explains why they've been hiding away, just to get a break. Sorry, to end on a sad note, but they're having a really hard time getting their energy back right now.
Note: It took me a while to shake off the energy of this pile, and immediately upon starting pile 3 I felt this huge weight lift off my head. Pile 2, your f/s is likely in a really dark place rn, I'm sorry.
Pile 3
Channeled Messages: Easy by The Commodores, sweet, light & giddy
I'm not feeling an overall negative energy here right off the bat, however the cards are suggesting that your f/s may feel very insecure right now. I think they're in a place that is blocking their creativity or feminine energy. They might be surrounded by people that are pushing them around, unbeknownst to them, and this is subconsciously making them feel insecure and unsure about themselves. I'm picking up a lot of feminine energy from this pile, which doesn't mean your f/s is necessarily a woman or anything. Maybe they're surrounded by a lot of women, but I don't think in a romantic way. I'm feeling that a woman close to them is really getting in their head and influencing them in a negative way. All in all your f/s has very good energy, I think they're a very kind and sweet person, but at the moment they aren't surrounded by those that have the best intentions.
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luveline · 2 years
Note
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRmjSQCe/
i saw this and thought of eddie and roan and roan hiding the readers stuff so she can't leave
okay i thought it would be so sweet if the first time you eddie asks you to spend the night is totally roan's fault but of course you're down cos it's mechanic girl dad!eddie o.O (fem!reader)
"Eddie?" you call, mildly perplexed. "You didn't move my shoes, did you?"
"Huh?"
You raise your voice so he can hear you over the sound of the washing machine and the running faucet. "My shoes, handsome! Have you seen them?"
Eddie throws the hand towel over his shoulder looking every bit as attractive as your pet name implies, work shirt still tucked into his form-fitting pants, hair pulled away from his face in a wild, low-lying pony tail. "They're right-" He stops at your side, his hand sliding around your back. You try not to melt into his touch. You're supposed to be leaving. "Here," he says, dumbfounded. "They were right here. Um..."
"Maybe I took them off by the couch?" you murmur, more to yourself than him. Eddie rubs a line up and down your hip, the issue more curious than urgent.
"Maybe," he agrees, dark brows pinching together. "Huh."
You peel away from him reluctantly and slip around the couch. There's no shoes in sight, only a very primly sitting Roan in the middle where you left her.
"Hey, baby," you say distractedly, lifting her blanket to check the floor underneath. You search the carpet like they might be hiding in plain view and find nothing. When you pull your head back up she's looking at you strangely. "I've lost my shoes. Have you seen them?"
"No."
You narrow your eyes at her tone, theatrically suspicious. "Are you lying to me, little miss?"
"No," she says again.
Her no's are nervous like she's holding in a laugh. You scrutinise the way she's sitting, the way her back's not quite touching the couch cushions.
"Hmm, okay. Would you help me look, please?"
Roan seems like she might stand and then drops back down. "No."
"No?" You pout at her dramatically, doing your best to look upset. "Okay, I guess I'll look by myself."
Eddie returns from his own searching and shrugs at you. "Babe, I don't know where they are. Seriously, s'like they've disappeared."
You dip your head as inconspicuously as you can toward his daughter, eyes flitting between them both suggestively. His face fills with clarity.
"Roan, you haven't seem them, have you?" Eddie asks, smirking at you.
"No," she lies, obvious and endearing simultaneously. She can't look at him as she does.
"Roan Munson," he says.
She looks up, deer-in-the-headlights. "Daddy?"
"You gonna sit there on your butt or are you gonna help us look?" he asks.
She shrinks with relief for a second before panic flits across her face. Finally, she flops back like she's going to have a sulk and says, "I'm tired, daddy," while giving Eddie the biggest, sweetest doe eyes ever.
He laughs. You glare at him reproachfully and lean down to kiss the top of her head. You can see the rubber toe of one shoe sticking out behind her.
"Roan," you say patiently, squatting down in front of her with her face cradled in your hands. "I need my shoes, baby."
She crumples like wet paper, the kind of quick tears that come with childhood panic. It shocks you into reassuring her, clumsy and nowhere as elegant as Eddie would be.
You move onto your knees. "Roan. You're not in trouble or anything, it's okay."
Fear hits you in the chest like a flat palm. Fat tears roll down her cheeks and pool at the apple of her tiny chin. You throw your gaze to Eddie for help.
He comes to kneel beside you and steal one of her hands, unfurling the tight fist she's made. "You're okay, you can calm down," he says, sympathetic but firm. "Nobody's mad."
"I don't want her to go home," she cries.
You rub your lips together. "You'll see my again on Friday, princess."
"I want to see you again now." Her voice cracks in two different places. You offer your open palm and take her other hand, side-eyeing Eddie for some assistance.
"She can't stay tonight," he tells her regretfully.
"But why?" she demands.
"I have things I need to do. I have to feed my fish, and wash my clothes for work, I have to have a shower. All my things are at my house." You try to explain as Eddie does, calm and careful.
"You can have my clothes."
Eddie chokes back his laughter and runs the flat of his palm up her arm soothingly. "How about... on Friday, if it's okay with Y/N, she can stay and have a sleepover with us?" He looks at you to make sure his offer is okay.
You jump in. "Oh my god, yes! I'll feed my fish lots and lots and bring my pajamas and I'll stay for two days."
"Really?" Roan asks hopefully.
"Really really. I'll be here all night."
She takes a deep breath. Eddie rubs her arm in encouragement for the long, slow minutes it takes her to calm down. You can tell he's pleased at how well she's accepting the compromise.
"Okay," she says, sad but nowhere near as upset as she had been.
"Yeah?" he asks.
"You have to go?" she asks again.
You smile at her and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "I have to. You'll be fine when I do, you'll see. And you can't tell me your poor back isn't hurting from my shoes, princess."
She leans forward. Eddie grabs your shoes.
"Thank you," you say. "Doesn't your back feel better?"
"No," she whines.
You frown at her. She takes her hands back and before you have the time to worry she's reaching for your shoulders.
You pull her up into your arms for a hug obligingly. One hand behind her head of dark hair, the other at her back, you rake your fingers through the silken softeness of her curls and smile like a fool. She's small, impossibly heavy, a heat against your chest that feels right.
When you look up you find Eddie staring and give him a sheepish smile. You're not sure how much you're allowed to love her — how could you not? — and you feel a tad embarrassed when he catches you like this.
"Is that cool?" he says under his breath.
You nod voraciously, pat-pat-patting Roan's back. You'd love to spend the night. The thought of sharing a bed with him gives you butterflies.
He turns his head to the side and leans in for a kiss. It's a short peck like he's trying to make it quick, but then he laughs softly and gives you another.
"Thank you," he says.
You clear your throat. "Of course. Can't wait."
-
more eddie and roan
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glorismorningstar · 28 days
Text
LIONHEART
Pairings: girlfriend!Lute x f!reader, fatherfigure!Alastor x f!reader, Charlie x overprotective!Vaggie + f!bodyguard!reader, situationship!Carmilla Carmine x f!reader
Summary: Charlie is asked to attend a meeting with Heaven, and Vaggie asks Y/N to keep an eye on her. Begrudgingly, she agrees, but not without taking the necessary precautions. A dreaded yet hoped-for encounter occurs, which triggers unforgettable memories.
Warnings: daddy issues, canon-typical violence, Adam being Adam, brief lesbian smut, fluff, angst, grief, sadness, mentions of sex, WLW
A/N: I'm fully aware that the trailer was a major flop, but this story is purely self indulgent and has been in my head for so long that I need to get it out :)
| Part 0 // Part 1 // Part 2 |
˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
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˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
77 YEARS LATER…
“So, what do you think?” Alastor asked as he turned off the TV. He had just shown us the commercial he'd made for the hotel, and while Charlie and Vaggie were off-put and disappointed, I had to hold back a snort of laughter.
“That was hysterical,” I laughed, resting my elbows on top of the backrest of the couch. “May I have a copy of that?”
“Y/N!” Vaggie barked.
“Right, right!” I cleared my throat. While this was one of the most entertaining things I'd seen in a long while - since that dipshit Vox was unable to put on anything good in the seven years that Alastor was gone, or even before that - it wasn't oriented to what we wanted to do for sinners, it did not once mention redemption or our ambition to help souls checking out into Heaven.
“I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?” Vaggie snapped.
“Uh, yeah, one note… Alastor…” Charlie hesitated, trying to find the words to criticize the commercial without aggravating Alastor, whose grin hadn't wasted a beat in growing strained. “I mean, first off, thank you so much for making this, seriously amazing! But, um, maybe the tone is a bit off.”
Alastor, tilting his head a little and furrowing his brows in his own fashion of a glare, was visibly offended, expression betraying his ever-present smile. I had always found his grin curious, ever since the day he and Rosie had rescued me, I wondered about his choice to smile permanently. A smile is a powerful tool, he'd say, it keeps your friends inspired, your enemies guessing, and assures that no matter what happens, you're the one in control.
“We want people to want to come here, but this makes it look… um…” she continued, attempting to word her sentence properly. 
“Bad. The word you're looking for is bad.” Vaggie completed. While Sera had taught me to be polite, her brutal honesty was refreshing. 
“Funny, I was going for hilarious!” Alastor said and tilted his head to the side, neck rolling with a crack.
“Agreed, but comedy isn't the purpose of the ad.” I said with a soft tilt of my head.
“It didn't say anything about how we're trying to save demons from the extermination, which is the whole fucking point.” 
“Vaggie is right, Alastor. The commercial is to let sinners know we are trying to help them.” Said Charlie.
“Well, my dear, I haven't been active in Hell for quite some time and everyone remembers me from my radio show - the proper medium to express oneself,” he said, holding his finger up for emphasis, which made me chuckle, then I laced my fingers together and rested my chin on my conjoined hands. “But you insisted on this noisy picture box advertisement! So I had a little fun with it.”
His inability - and unwillingness - to hide his thinly veiled contempt for modern technology never failed to amuse me. I was among the oldest beings in creation, only younger than very few souls, but I had grown accustomed to television, cinema and social media. His insistence on radio broadcasts and their superiority was quite humorous.
“Oh, fun? You had a little fun with it?” Vaggie said, getting up from her seat. She was about to lose her patience, and I couldn't blame her. This was an important thing, for it to work out, it was vital that it was taken seriously by everyone involved. “This is not what we want to represent us! When you showed up here a week ago, you said you would help run this hotel, instead you're mocking us! No one is gonna come to a place that a powerful Overlord like you thinks is a waste of time.”
As if on cue, a pink gloved hand raised from the couch opposite the fireplace. I sighed and tilted my head to look at him, boredly smushing my cheek against my hand. “What?”
“If'n ya filming a commercial, can I suggest you take better advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?” Angel Dust asked, four fingers pointing at himself.
“I don't know if you can, but you most certainly may not.” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose in exasperation. His views on sex were the polar opposite of mine. Heavenly standards had always discouraged giving in to such temptations, but that was one among the many ways in which I had rebelled. Nevertheless, for me sex had always been a way to express strong feelings of affection rather than just a simple exchange of bodily fluids. When I lived in Heaven, Lute and I had always made love with the purpose of worshiping and pleasuring each other, while Angel did so simply for the sake of reaching the climax, which I found immature and foolish.
“Angel, you're a porn star.” Vaggie pointed out with visible dismissal of his idea.
“A famous porn star!” He corrected. “I'll have the horniest sinners knocking these walls down to get in.”
“We're not filming a porn as a commercial.” Vaggie spoke, as if it wasn't obvious enough to the effeminate man.
“Why not?”
“Where do I begin? It's disgusting, it's unrealistic, it's immoral, and it makes little to no sense, among other things.” I listed out, counting each point on my fingers while I gazed at him with a grimace.
“No sense? Sex sells, don't it?” He said, rubbing his fingertips together. “I swear, if you film me going at it with Mr. Fancy Talk Creepy Voice here, you'd be rolling in participants willing to stay at this tacky hotel.”
The simple thought made me gag. Alastor's asexuality was to be respected, for his sake and for my own peace of mind. “Ha, ha! Never going to happen!”
“Angel, I appreciate you wanting to use your… special skills to, um… attract folks to the hotel, but I really don't want to exploit you! In that way.” Charlie winced, giving a polite but awkward smile to dismiss such a notion.
“Oh, please, baby, this body was made to be exploited,” he drawled and puffed his chest, making poses to highlight his sexual desirability. “I got the arms, I got the stamina, I got the legs, I got the lung capacity, ha, ha, I got the legs! The gag reflex, the holes, the chest fluff the everyone thinks are tits-” 
His narcissistic rambling was interrupted by Charlie's ringtone, which made me breathe a sigh of relief and stop tugging on my ears. As she excused herself to take the phone call, I zoned out for a minute, tail curling around my hip as the fluffy tip twitched idly. I heard her say “dad”, which drew a soft smile from me. If only Lucifer had been there to support my rebellion then, maybe things might have been a little different. I hadn't seen him in ages. We used to get along fairly well, and when I needed secret meetings to try to make peace, he was my main contact. Despite our friendship, I knew he'd recognize me immediately if he saw me again, so I refrained from reaching out. 
I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard Husk once again rejecting Angel's flirting. It really was annoying. 
Husk and I had met through Alastor, as the poor guy was owned by the Overlord. We had more in common than I'd thought, including our feline traits, both physical and characteristic, and a mutual annoyance with Angel Dust. I felt bad for how Alastor treated him, I always believed it was unfair, but his rage was one of the most chilling, terrifying things one could ever witness, and I wasn't stupid enough to allow myself to be the object of his frustrations. It was already a miracle he was the closest thing to a father I'd ever have. 
“Vaggie! Holy shit!”
“Pah!” I yelped, ears pulling back as Charlie's outburst startled me.
“Ah! What?”
“Get over here!”
Their cute relationship made a fond chuckle fall from my lips, watching with a small smile as Vaggie walked over behind the wall to talk to Charlie.
When I heard her mention a meeting with the leader of the exorcist army, my stomach dropped to my knees. Adam.
He was almost my brother-in-law, brought into my social circle by Lute. I didn't admire him like he liked to think everyone did, but I did respect him, for Lute's sake. It was important to her that I got along with her best friend, and I couldn't deny her such a thing. 
- I can do this, somehow I know it
I'll get Heaven behind my plans
- Charlie, hold on
I could hear Charlie singing. She did always have a thing for singing songs at random times, a habit that straddled the line between endearing and entertaining, and annoying and irritating.
- There's just no way I could blow this
Not this once in a lifetime chance
- It's just a meeting
Ah, yes, just a meeting, I thought with a sigh. The poor girl was about to go to her first meeting with Adam of all people. It was like taking her driver's test in a bus.
- To change their minds, to touch their hearts
Or whatever angels have
I frowned a little at the prejudice. Angels do so have hearts. It was the hypocrisy that bugged me.
- This could be bad
- Cheer up, Vaggie
This could be swell
Something tells me that today is gonna be a happy day in Hell
- Okay, but just don't sing to them
Ah, the famous last words. Charlie was already out the door before Vaggie could even finish the sentence, strutting around through Hell as if it were the land of cupcakes and rainbows.
- That bitch is halfway down the street
- Is she-?
- Oh, she's dancing
- Ugh, no
I sighed and leaned against the door frame, tail curling as I watched the princess walking down the street. “Y/N, you should accompany her to the meeting. Say you're the bodyguard or something.”
“Ha, ha, yeah, right.” I laughed with pure sarcasm. The simple idea of being in the same room as someone with divine ordainment after almost eight decades made my head spin with anxiety.
“Fine, then at least keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't run into some weirdass on the way.” Vaggie proposed. While it bordered on stalking, it was true that Charlie could be a bit too carefree, and it was the least I could do to help.
“Fine.” I groaned, pulling on the hood of my cloak, and followed her path down the street, dodging disgusting views and unpleasant sinners on the way. The fact that I'd be hearing Adam's voice after this long was nerve-wracking, to say the least. I wouldn't be speaking to him, obviously, if it were so I would have outright fainted, but being in a one mile radius of any personality from the right side of the pearly gates made my lungs constrict.
˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
As I stood in front of the tall golden tower of Heaven's embassy, a flurry of edgy butterflies swarmed in my stomach. I inhaled deeply through my nose and slowly exhaled through my mouth, then hurried inside after Charlie before the door could close, slipping in the shadows to keep her from seeing me.
When she signed the paper and entered the meeting room, I finally relaxed and laid on one of the couches in the deserted lobby, pulling my hood down and sighing as I stared at the ceiling. I could hear Adam's boisterous laugh, muffled by the walls, and my stomach did a backflip. I buried my face in my hands and took a few deep breaths, trying to get my shit together.
“You think I'd come down there? No, I mean, I love the vibe. Totally, love your tunes. Pretty fuckin’ hardcore, don't get me wrong, but it's such a bummer, man. Everything down there is so bleugh, heh… ew.” His shenanigans never failed to make me roll my eyes. I never once agreed with him on anything, barely even on the smallest of dilemmas, like which milkshake flavor was the best. But there was an unspoken agreement between us to put up with each other's shit, motivated by our closeness with Lute.
My gaze then flickered around the room, which hadn't changed in seventy-seven years. I could remember when I'd first been here to meet with Lucifer in secret to attempt to stop the exterminations. It all felt like it was eons ago, when in reality it hadn't even been half a century, a microscopic fraction to my long life as a Seraphim. 
“Adam, sir… Mr. Adam, sir-”
“Call me Dickmaster.”
A ghost of a laugh fell from my lips at the nickname. It had been so long since I'd heard him and his narcissistic ramblings about his sexual prowess. Word in Heaven and outside was that he was just as good as he purported, which I didn't find too hard to believe, as he was neither an unattractive nor an inexperienced man.
“It's the solution to our biggest problem!”
“Herpes! Yeah, that's a bitch.”
“No, our other biggest problem!”
“Oh, um… ugly people? Math? Global warming! No, wait, that's Earth's problem. When you take her out for the fifth time and she still expects you to pay the check, and you're like, hey, I thought you wanted equality!”
“No! Our shared problem of overpopulation in Hell.”
“Oh! Well, that's not a problem! We've got that covered! Lute, how many demons-”
Lute?
Lute was here?
I scrambled to the door and pressed my ear up against it, listening for any sign of her, her voice, her footsteps, her auditory mannerisms. Anything.
“Got a good 275 this year, sir.”
I rested my hand against the door and sniffed, breathing out a shaky, broken sigh as I slumped into a ball on the floor, leaning my ear against the cold surface. Hearing the ethereal sound of her voice after eight decades felt like reaching an oasis after having wandered the desert, a ray of sunlight in a dark tunnel. My eyes flooded with tears as I let out silent sobs, covering my mouth with my hand as I kept listening for her voice, in desperate need of getting whatever glimpse of her I could.
I wondered what she thought of me now, so long after I disappeared with no trace. I could barely even imagine the pain she must have gone through - or was still going through - if she thought I was dead… or worse, if she thought I abandoned her. If she thought I didn't love her and Emily and Sera anymore, and decided I'd live a better life elsewhere. The thought of her hating me made me choke a sob, the hearing range too short for the emotions I wanted to show.
For fuck's sake, she was the love of my life. Why the fuck didn't I go in as the bodyguard? What was going through my head when Charlie said she'd be meeting Adam? You can't have Adam without Lute, how stupid could I have been to not think of that? I missed her face so much… her golden, intelligent eyes, her pretty little nose, her mischievous smirk, her thick, fluttering eyelashes… God, how I loved her face…
“They're not the same. They had their chance, and they earned damnation.”
I didn't even care what she was saying right now, I just needed to hear her.
“...but everyone makes mistakes.”
“Angels don't make mistakes.”
“You really think that?”
“I know that.”
I'd heard that before.
˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
With a last harsh suck to her clit, her thighs clamped around my head and she cried out my name, squirming and mewling as my face remained buried in the paradise between her legs. I lifted my head to meet her eyes and licked my lips clean of her sweet juices while her hand lingered on my hair, grip on my locks loosening as her chest heaved with the exertion. Giving her an affectionate smile, I shifted to get up and grab something to clean her, but she stopped me before I could do so. “Stay.”
I smiled at her and leaned my head on her thigh, planting the occasional kiss on her soft skin. “I love the way you taste.”
“You say that every time you go down on me.” She giggled, carding her fingers through my hair.
“And I'll keep saying it over and over, my love.” I smiled, resting my forehead on the soft flesh of her thigh and closing my eyes. 
I heard her let out a quiet chuckle as her hand kept stroking my hair, head falling back against her pillow as she slowly regained her breath. Everything about her mesmerized me. Being with Lute felt more right than being with any man in this universe. The way she tasted, the way she smelled, the way she looked, the noises she made, they all made me fall in love with her more with each encounter. My thoughts wandered to her military training and the extermination. Even putting aside the betrayal of Sera making such a decision, with the way Lute spoke about enrolling in the army, I'd never have peace of mind. Heaven was a lie, indeed. I wanted to stop it so badly, to protect Emily from such knowledge, to find a solution different from violence, to take some weight off Sera's shoulders, to save Lute's life.
I shook such thoughts out of my head and crawled up to lie flat on top of her, giving her a tender kiss on the lips and resting my forehead on hers. She wrapped her legs around my waist, locking her ankles on my lower back, and said, “What's with the frown, princess?”
I sighed and looked at the helmet on her nightstand, then back into her eyes. “Do you think it's possible to make peace with Hell?”
“What?” She asked with something between a scoff and a laugh. “Of course not. They had their chance to be good, and look at what they did instead.”
“And that was a mistake,” I conceded, tenderly brushing the hair out of her eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was make this boil over into an argument, so I kept my tone soft and gentle. “But there's no one that doesn't make mistakes.”
“Angels don't make mistakes, love.” She replied.
“Strongly disagree.” I sighed, looking to the side again with a small frown. To name a few, Sera chose to approve the extermination and put Adam, of all people, in charge. It was true that he was sort of an in-law to me, and the best that could be said of our relationship was that we had mutual respect, but he was self-absorbed, reckless and obnoxious, a testosterone-fueled wind-up soldier that marched wherever his sex-clouded brain told him to. And to think that poor Emily still believed she lived in this perfect, unbiased realm of bliss. 
“Hey,” Lute cooed, taking my chin in between her fingertips and tipping it to meet her eyes. “What Sera did was for your own good. She just wants to protect you, and so do I.” 
She then grabbed my cheeks and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. The gesture made me smile a bit. I knew she wanted my wellbeing, but if only there was a way to do so that wasn't so violent…
“Come on, no more pouting,” she said, nuzzling our noses together. “What do you say we cuddle a bit and tomorrow we go out for ice cream?”
“Hmm… sounds fun. Thank you.” I mumbled and trailed a few soft kisses across her shoulder, then rested my head on her chest and closed my eyes, reveling in her presence.
My gaze once again fell on her exorcist's helmet. Those rotten black horns, striped with white and curled at the tips, the × over the right eye and that ragged smile… I loathed everything about it. The fear of losing her to this was too big. I'd do whatever it took to spare her and my family from this barbarity.
˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
The moment Adam opened the door, the color dissipated from my skin.
He was holding Charlie by the wrist - thankfully she had her back to me - and beside him was Lute.
Lute, in that familiar gray uniform and that horrible mask. 
Her eyes met mine for a split second and I felt the wind being knocked out of me when she squinted and her body language shifted ever so slightly, which made me gasp and pull my hood back on, ears pulling back in fear and tail taking cover between my legs, and in the time she simply blinked, I ran away on all fours as fast as my legs could carry me, not stopping until I reached the hotel. My legs felt like they could crumble any second, my lungs screaming for breath and my throat begging for water, but I wouldn't stop until I was far away from the embassy. 
˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
As night befell the Pentagram, I laid on my bed and stared out the window in deep thought about the day's events. I opened the drawer in my nightstand and grabbed a picture, gazing at it fondly. It was me and Lute on date night, slow dancing to some cheesy love song we liked. I had an arm around her while my free hand held hers as she looked at me with heart-shaped eyes.
I wondered if she'd still look at me that way now, if she didn't hate me for disappearing without a message or note or any information on where I'd gone beforehand. A part of me didn't want to know the answer.
My phone dinged with a new notification, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Fuck.”
Hey corazón <3
21:14
You coming over tonight? 
21:14
Shit, Carmilla. When my brain registered Lute's presence earlier today, everyone else was dead to me. Thankfully, I was grounded back to reality when I got back to the hotel, but I couldn't just ditch Carmilla for a person I may or may not see ever again. Then again, I couldn't abandon Lute, the woman I loved with all my heart and soul for years on end, for a mere carnal relationship. 
I sighed and texted back my response,
Sorry babe, I'm not in the mood tonight :(
21:17
Good night
21:18
226 notes · View notes
ravixen · 10 months
Note
hi hope ur doing well! i wanted to ask if you could write a reaction of when the boys forget about a date and leave you waiting for a while for them? i'd like the members to be joshua, mingyu, seungkwan, vernon, and dino if possible! thank u sm in advance!
svt + forgetting your date
➔ reaction || requested
➔ warnings: none || 1167 words ➔ notes: fluff ; i'm doing pretty well! getting a lot of things done these days :) i wish i could spend a little more writing and drawing, but it is what it is. if you enjoyed this, please reblog! also if you're interested in any writing/art commissions, check out my carrd. or visit my ko-fi just cuz!
JOSHUA: you know that this guy never checks his messages, so whenever you need him for emergencies, you always call instead. that's why, when your signal is only strong enough for a flurry of texts, he doesn't see them until an hour later. your last message reads i'll just go home. confused, he scrolls up to find a bunch of emojis and ? are you standing me up lol and ...are you seriously standing me up, and it takes a second before he finally realizes what today is. fuck. fuck. he's the one who scheduled this date, going on a spiel about how you haven't seen each other in a while, so you went out of your way to free up your schedule. and now he looks like a grade-a asshole for forgetting. scratch that, he is a grade-a asshole. he makes a few stops around town to pick up your favorite things for a night in before going to your place. it won't make up for the missed date, that much is obvious from your unimpressed stare as you open the door, but he's going to try his best to earn your forgiveness. in fact, as soon as he sees you, he gets on his knees on your steps with a dramatic declaration of, "love, i'm so, so sorry," and you have to drag him to his feet, saying that he's embarrassing you in front of your neighbors. but hey, at least you cracked a smile.
MINGYU: when seungcheol asks if he wants to continue their biking excursion to hit up a cool restaurant, mingyu says yes, even though he feels like he should have declined for some reason. that feeling continues tickling the back of his mind, up until they pay for the meal and cheol asks if they should get dessert. that's when you text him, informing your boyfriend that there's about ten minutes of trailers if he's running late, and his heart drops. he completely forgot about your movie date today. he tells you to go in first. i'll be there later, he types, i have my ticket on my phone. then he tells seungcheol what happened, and seungcheol asks how the hell he'll make it in time when they still have to bike back to their car. spoiler alert: he doesn't. by the time he makes it to the theater and pathetically slinks into his seat next to you, the movie is already in its final arc, and you're aggressively eating your snacks, ignoring his presence. he trails after you once the movie ends, waiting for your verdict and hoping that you'll take pity on his bedraggled state. you pause by your car and sigh. "well, c'mon," you say, opening the trunk for his bike rack. "i'm not so angry that i'll make you cycle all the way home." he decides during that tense car ride that he'll make the best dinner of his life tonight.
SEUNGKWAN: it's late, and you're still not home. after a while of worrying by himself, he calls and asks where you are. he almost thinks that the call dropped because you're silent for a full minute before asking him, incredulously, if he's serious. of course he's serious. he just finished an episode of a new drama, and he never makes it through one. "i've been waiting at the restaurant for the past twenty minutes," you say slowly. "and you're chilling in the living room?" no way. isn't that tomorrow? he flicks open his calendar and gasps when he realizes his mistake. "wait there for a bit, okay? i'm on my way," he says, scrambling to his feet, but you quickly stop him with a scoff. "you still need to get dressed and then get all the way here. they can't wait that long. i'll just leave." he feels awful. he slaps himself on the cheeks to get sense back into him. seungkwan, he scolds himself mentally. how could you do this? how could he forget this date? and it's not like you didn't try to reach him—he sees all the texts and phone calls now, blocked by the do not disturb that he forgot to turn off. "will they let you in by yourself? why don't you eat whatever you want and charge it to my card, hm? i'm so sorry."
VERNON: he doesn't know what he did wrong, but apparently he did something because you just went radio silent yesterday afternoon, even though you're still posting on your story. when he wakes up in the morning, he sees that even his good night texts are ignored. he sends you a good morning text anyway and asks how you slept, asks what your plans are for the day. by the time he gets to work, there's still no reply. "hey!" seungkwan yells out, rushing to his side. vernon automatically reaches for the coffee that he knows is around somewhere—seungkwan is nothing but predictable—and hums when he finds it. "so what'd you end up getting y/n yesterday? i thought you'd ask me for gift ideas, but since you were so secretive this year, i figured it was big." vernon blinks at him. "what was yesterday?" seungkwan blinks back. "you're kidding...their birthday dinner? you wanted to celebrate a week early? hello?" he snatches back his coffee. "you're the one who insisted on it. did you forget?" seungkwan's withering look bounces off the absolute dread that vernon feels. no wonder you were ignoring him. he pushes past seungkwan, already pulling out his phone. "i need to make a call really quick. can you tell the others i'll be late?"
CHAN: this is the lamest excuse in the book, but his phone died, and while he could've borrowed a charger...what was the point? if there was an emergency, people knew to call the other members. that's why he doesn't bother plugging it in until after practice, and when it finally charges up, the belated alert for your date appears, and he swears loud enough for the others to send him a look. "sorry!" he says, throwing all of his things into his bag. "you guys eat without me. i have somewhere to be!" he flies down the stairs and books it out of the building. something about his expression makes everyone jump out of his way, wondering what the heck has him so harried. somehow, he makes it to the place in record time and scans the crowd for your face, lighting up when he sees you under an awning. then his smile falls when he sees your expression. he feels so, so bad for leaving you waiting out here. he shrugs off his jacket and puts it around your shoulders, ignoring the fact that you don't look happy to see him. "why don't we get something warm to drink?" he murmurs, clasping your cold hands. at least he didn't miss the main event—if he missed that, he doesn't know if you'll forgive him.
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wannaeatramyeon · 9 months
Note
Fem!reader Isekai in Lookism ?
Anon, so sorry I'm answering this exactly 3 months later. You're my last request from May and I was soooo close to deleting it because I have had exactly zero ideas. Then I got partly inspired by @honeyhotteok fic here and now I'm running on less than 3hrs sleep in work and it's your fault. Oh yeah, and I've completely twisted the ask as well. It's not even close. So all that wait was for nothing 🙇🏻‍♀️
Adventures of YOUR part time job in the Lookismverse
G/N. You work the graveyard shift in a convenience store. You meet bizarre characters on different nights. Part 2
There's something wrong with people your age these days.
Everyone seems to be either in a gang or up to some shady shit. Seriously what is going on. Is this all a big joke that only you aren't in on?
Just the other day you swear you saw a group of guys in boiler suits punch through some walls across the street. Like what the fuck? What did the wall ever do to you? And then someone apparently called Tabasco starts chanting something about Burn Knuckles and oh my fucking god it's 11pm please shut up.
Oh course you never said that, you still have some sense of self preservation.
And how does anyone even have the time for all this. Between school and this part time job, you barely have enough hours to sleep.
You miss Daniel, the coworker who you haven't seen for a good year but used to gossip into the early morning with. He always seemed a bit nervous and fidgety when you voiced your concerns and observations, but you just assumed he was a nervous and fidgety kinda guy.
There would have been some fun stories to share. Instead now you work the graveyard shift on your own.
.
.
Case in point, the guy standing in front of you looks like one bad conversation away from a mental breakdown.
And really you're not in the habit of checking out customers but he cuts a striking figure. Every exposed inch of skin besides his face inked, and (you silently ask for his forgiveness for the objectification) the biggest chest you have ever seen. What even is this guy eating? What is this guy injecting? Lifting?
The question is almost out of your mouth but then you see the look in his eyes and slam your lips shut.
Nevermind. You ring his purchases through and tell him to have a good night.
.
.
You're restocking the shelves when you notice a guy with a scar across his lip and nose, dripping blood from god knows where all over your freshly mopped floor.
Which is alarming in itself but come on man. Look at the floors. You're making it so fucking gross.
He notices you watching him, gives you an apologetic look and says he'll take care of it.
He makes a quick call and in comes 26 guys, one after the other and they line up in front of him.
You know it's exactly 26 because you counted all 26. And you've also watched all 26 pairs of dirty shoes trample over your previously nice clean floor.
The blood drippy guy asks politely for the mop and bucket and you think this must be some sort of prank because why the hell is this even necessary. 26 guys to share your one solitary mop and bucket and to clean a goddamn floor that you managed in 10 minutes.
"Get out." He blinks at you, taken aback by your tone. "Or I'm calling the police."
.
.
"You can bring your pups in!" You call out to the emo teen lurking outside.
Health and safety be damned because look how fucking cute these dogs are!
He hesitates but then the rain grows heavier and all three rush in.
You miss the suspicious glance he gives you, too fixated on how adorable the dogs are. You don't even mind their wet fur or muddy paws because look at these little babies!
And huh, this guy must really love them too with his, you squint, God? Dog? hoodie on. D'aww that's so stinking sweet.
.
.
Damnit, you knew these two would be trouble the moment they stepped foot into your store.
The tall blonde just gives off a distinct creepy vibe and the shorter one has his entire eyebrows shaved off.
Shaved. Off.
You couldn't help but stare when you put their purchases through and noticed some regrowth and stubble. Is this a trend you missed out on? Either way you're glad because there's no way you're shaving off your own eyebrows.
They converse in Japanese, not even saying a word to you. No thanks or anything, which is fine you suppose. But then they pay you in fucking yen.
They're out the door by the time you see the cash and fuck. Your boss is going to go apeshit when he finds out.
.
.
"What do you think, sweetheart?"
A new blonde guy addresses you tonight and for crying out loud, you just want a quiet shift.
What do you think of his white suit? With the garish LV logos? That it's tacky as fuck. That anyone with any sort of taste would never ever wear that. You keep your actual thoughts to yourself and instead just say it's fine.
That does nothing to subdue the blonde. He does stop talking to you though, and just mutters bitterly under his breath. You catch the words blind and tasteless.
His partner smirks at your response.
And isn't that a whole other kettle of fish because it's currently 2am and you're indoors and who the hell wears sunglasses right now. You think he's a douche of the highest calibre.
The smirk is wiped from his face when he asks for cigarettes and you ask for ID. He doesn't have it on him.
"No can do. No ID, no sale."
He leans aggressively into your space, and reveals his eyes peering over his sunglasses.
My god, what is up with this duo? One with the tacky suit, and this one with the ugly black contact lenses.
You don't budge and the guy is dragged out by the blonde cackling.
Ugh. That laugh gives you a headache for the rest of your shift.
.
.
You really wish customers would stop involving you in their conversation.
This one, who looks exactly like how you would imagine a SoundCloud rapper that has their mother following them and no one else, asks you to listen to his music.
He insists that he's good as the blonde girl rolls her eyes.
You listen to about 10 seconds and make up your mind.
He's wrong. He's very wrong. You want to suggest he gets checked out at the doctor because clearly his ears aren't working properly.
Instead, you mention you like Duke Pyeon, he's more your taste. Has he heard of him? It's the wrong thing to say though because this guy looks angrier than you've ever seen anyone.
"Don't start Vin, I've seen you listening to his music." The girl scoffs.
'Vin' shouts in indignation and storms off with his friend trailing closely behind.
.
.
"Can I help?" You ask with your customer service voice and customer service smile.
He has been standing in front of the hair dyes for a good ten minutes as his friend looks increasingly bored and you can't blame him.
"No thanks, I'm just browsing," he responds and you tell him you'll be just over there if he needs anything.
You kill some time playing on your phone, look up, and both of them are still in the exact same spot.
The one with the H on his neck looks about ready to tear his hair out.
"Come on bro, just pick one!"
"No Warren, this is important. I need it to suit my new aesthetics."
You shrug and return back to your kitty kat restaurant game.
.
.
"Cool glasses," you tell the guy walking around the store and he looks affronted at first before realising you're being sincere and gives you a small smile instead.
You wonder if you can pull off orange tinted glasses too or whether you'd just look like an idiot. It's probably the latter you decide when you ring up his energy drinks.
"I'm a boxer," he offers, as if you're judging the amount of caffeine he's going to slam down.
"Ok?"
"I need it for my training."
"Sure."
You've seen weirder purchases and weirder combinations. The people coming in looking frantic and buying a single plunger or pack of toilet paper never fails to make you chuckle.
To be honest the amount he's buying is a bit nuts, and you wonder if he's going to drink it all in one go. You probably wouldn't sleep for a year if it was you.
"Enjoy your training," you say, heaving and handing over the bag of 19 cans.
.
.
A mute blonde gestures at you
You try to use some sign language, but he looks at you as if you're crazy. At least you think he does but you can't see his eyes.
Somehow you're able to decipher he's lost his dogs. Four. Golden retrievers. And he asks if you have seen them.
(Huh. Do you have telepathy? Do you have the gift?)
You tell him no and he sprints out.
You spend the rest of your shift trying to move things with your newly discovered psychic powers.
Spoiler: you have zero powers. Zilch.
.
.
You think you might be having a stroke.
Because on what planet did this K-pop idol think the disguise would work. Cap and mask on but tufts of pink hair poking out and dressed completely in white.
It's like he's asking for attention and for people to ooh and aah over who that could be.
As he leaves, you shout that you can't wait for his next album. He turns around in complete shock that you recognised him, as if you solved the world's hardest puzzle.
It's a good job that DG has such a pretty face because what an idiot.
.
.
You hear two voices mention the words Daniel Park and your ears perk up, wondering if it's about your old colleague.
Nah. You're just being silly. It's not an uncommon name at all and too much of a coincidence.
"I haven't seen Daniel in ages! Have you heard from him, Zoe?"
"No," you see her friend shake her head from the corner of your eye.
The brown haired girl tilts her head in thought, "I wonder how Zack is doing too. I haven't seen him in so long."
"Ohhh~ you miss him!"
"O-of course I do! He's a friend!" She blushes bright red and you chuckle to yourself.
'Friend', sure.
For the rest of the shift, you reminisce about how you used to tiptoe around your feelings with your boyfriend, Taehoon, too.
787 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 8 months
Text
Always Ever Only You Part 8 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: The excitement you feel for your promotion ceremony gets tamped down by everything else going on. You feel like Cat is toying with Jake. You're anxious about your husband leaving for eight weeks. And you're hurt by what he says to you on your special night. 
Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing
Length: 5600 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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"Hey there, big shot," Jake drawled from your lab doorway. It was early in the morning a few days before your promotion banquet, and you were the only one in the quiet space. Your plan had been to get to work early so you had a chance to get your nails done later, but you could already see that slipping away as he strolled in and made himself cozy. 
"Hi, Jake," you said softly. You'd been avoiding him, and he must know it. But he'd hurt your feelings by not telling you that he and Cat were...something. You could understand why she would decide not to mention it to you. But Jake? You considered him to be one of your best friends. But if he wasn't going to tell you about Cat, then you weren't going to tell him you saw them kissing in the tower. 
"You okay, Angel? Haven't seen you around much. Seen plenty of ol' Rooster's ugly mug, but none of you." His green eyes and slightly raised brow were a good indicator that he was not going to let you off so easily. 
You opened your mouth, about to tell him you'd seen plenty of him in the rec room with Cat, when suddenly she strolled in with her computer and a cup of coffee. The way she and Jake both froze up when their gazes met would have been comical if you weren't so damn annoyed with both of them. 
Jake flushed a shade of pink you never imagined you'd see on his face in a million years, and he cleared his throat as Cat walked coolly across the room toward her usual seat. "Oh, good morning," she said to both of you, taking in Jake's form from the corner of her eye. 
"Lieutenant Coleman," he replied with a dreamy look in his eyes. But Cat said nothing more, nor did she even acknowledge that he had spoken to her. But he wasn't deterred. He told you weeks ago that he planned on asking her out until she said yes. And he did it right in front of you. "Lieutenant, I was wondering if you'd like to grab dinner with me tonight?"
"No," she replied without looking at him. "No, thank you."
You rubbed at your temples, so frustrated by both of them as Jake leaned in close to you and said, "I think I almost have her. Later, Angel." And as soon as he left your workspace, you rounded on Cat.
"Can you please explain to me what is going on?" you snapped. 
She raised one eyebrow at you as she glanced over her shoulder. "Regarding?"
"Jake!" you nearly shouted.
"Oh," she replied with a shrug. "He keeps asking me out."
You slammed your computer closed and stood, and you didn't care that you were kind of looming over her. "I saw you with him. In the rec room. When we were working comms in the tower."
Cat's lips parted, but no sound came out. 
"Did you even care about going out with Cam? Or was all of this some deranged plot against Jake? Because both of them are my friends, Lieutenant Coleman."
Finally she was looking up at you with some remorse in her dark eyes. "I was thrilled when Cam asked me out, truly. But he doesn't like kids, and then the rest of the night just went downhill for me."
You nodded slowly and took a deep breath. "What about Jake?" you asked, pleased to hear that your voice sounded calmer now. 
"He's a flirt," she said without expression. "He seems interested in me. And he's gorgeous. But I can't take a man like that seriously."
"He's my friend," you reiterated, overanunciating every syllable, "and despite how it appears, he is a sweet man with fragile emotions. Please don't toy with him."
She clearly wanted to say something else, but you were on the verge of shedding some tears that would make you look like a foolish child, so you excused yourself and took your computer back to your office. 
You were overly emotional. You knew that. It was everything all at once, and your body couldn't forget the muscle memory of holding Jeremiah in your arms. Conversing with Cat was already hard enough for you; it always had been. But on top of her having Jeremiah, now she was messing with Jake's feelings and seemed to have no remorse about it at all. 
As you closed your door behind you and sank down into your desk chair, you swiped at your tears. As soon as your promotion banquet was complete, Bradley would be leaving you for two months. You were going to miss two months of trying to get pregnant. Everything you did felt like a waste of time and energy, and you half wanted to stop trying for something that felt impossible anyway. 
"Fuck," you whispered, blowing your nose with a napkin you found in your desk drawer. It was sitting next to your old nameplate, the one from before you got married and hyphenated your last name. This time next week, your husband would be well and truly in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, surrounded by young pilots who could probably get pregnant if they wanted to. "What is wrong with you?" you asked yourself out loud, but your voice sounded foreign to your own ears. 
You swallowed down the rest of your tears and texted Bradley.
---------------------------
Bradley waited in line impatiently, grabbing two sandwiches, because they seemed like the quickest option. You wanted him to bring lunch up to your office and eat with you there. It was his personal goal to try to make you as happy as he could for the next few days and fuck you nonstop right before he left when you were ovulating. Seemed like a solid plan. He grabbed a few packets of hot sauce just to make you smile and then headed for your office. 
As soon as you opened the door for him, you were tucked against his chest with your arms wrapped around his waist. "Miss me?" he asked, kissing the top of your head. 
"Little bit," you replied. "How was your morning?" 
You pushed him toward your desk chair and then settled onto his lap once he was seated. Any meal where you and he shared a chair or a plate was his favorite kind of meal. He never liked sharing anything before he met you, but now he didn't like being without you at all. 
"My morning was better than Jake's," he said, taking a bite of one of the sandwiches while you drizzled hot sauce on the other one. "I don't know what he did to piss off Hondo, but it's been weeks now of never ending pushups and running laps around the buildings and through the drainage ditch. It's fucked up, but he's taking it on the chin."
"That's not cool at all," you said, glancing at him before you nibbled on your lunch. 
"How was your morning?" he asked, still daydreaming about how he woke up with your hand on his cock. 
"Eh, not great. Honestly? Cat Coleman is once again kind of on my shit list. And I didn't tell you this before but, Roo... I saw her and Jake making out in the rec room, and I really just feel like she's on some sort of mission to......."
You were still talking, but Bradley's brain was processing too many things at once. Oh. 
"Oh," he said, leaning forward and kissing your lips, completely cutting you off. "Sweetheart. Cat Coleman."
You gave him a weird look. "Yeah, Roo. That's what I said. You know Cat." You were speaking slowly and looking at him cautiously. 
"No, Baby Girl. Cat Coleman. Coleman! And Hondo! Holy hell, that's why Jake can't get a fucking break all of a sudden. Because of Cat Coleman."
You gasped and practically tossed your sandwich onto the desk. "I completely forgot Hondo's last name, because he's just Hondo. But that's her Uncle Bernie!" 
Bradley watched your gaze go hazy as he finished his food. Did Jake know about the relation between Hondo and Cat by this point? Did he know that's why he was getting his ass handed to him every day? Did he care?
"Bradley," you snapped, now looking right at him. "Cat's letting Jake take hundreds of extra push ups every day? Like this is fun for her or something?"
"Well, hang on," he started, because he didn't know Cat well, but she seemed okay. "Maybe she doesn't know about Uncle Hondo running Jake ragged."
But he could tell you were seething now, and apparently his warm, cuddly lunch was over, because you stood and thrust your sandwich into his hand. "I'm not hungry anymore," you muttered, pulling your phone out.
Bradley sighed and finished your sandwich in three bites and stood as well. "Don't worry about Jake too much," he whispered, kissing your neck as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. You smelled good. He wanted to run his nose and lips all over your body, undress you inch by inch and take his time with you. He knew you would be ovulating soon, and he thought maybe a quickie would be good? Maybe get a jump start on the month?
"I've got to go talk to Cam," you said. "Will you lock my door when you leave?" You kissed his cheek and then you were gone. So he took a minute to make sure his erection wasn't visible, and then he locked your door before heading back to the tower. 
It looked like Jake didn't even get a lunch break. He was soaked with sweat, and it wasn't even that hot out. Bradley watched him finish some push ups before getting to his feet and standing at attention for Hondo to lay into him. Bradley stood still, not wanting to get Jake into any extra trouble. But no matter what Hondo was saying, Jake only showed him the highest level of respect. 
When Jake started to head inside where everyone would regroup for the afternoon, Bradley followed him. "If I knew you weren't getting lunch, I would have brought you the hot sauce contaminated thing my wife didn't eat."
"Nah," Jake said, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "It's cool."
He seemed very relaxed about his push ups. Bradley wasn't sure what he should do or say. He wasn't sure how much Jake knew about Hondo. However... if he was no longer complaining about being singled out in these punishments... surely he must know.
He couldn't catch himself before he blurted out, "She saw you, man. She saw you and Cat."
Jake's eyes went wide, and he stopped wiping at his sweaty brow. "Angel saw us?"
"Yeah. And I sincerely hope you know what you're getting into here. You know who Hondo is?"
Jake nodded and softly said, "Yeah. Figured that one out on my own from the last name, and the fact that they're both from Maryland and do look a little similar."
"So what?" Bradley asked, shrugging sarcastically. "You're going to just let Hondo wear you down bit by bit? Even though you've been flying great? I take it he adamantly objects to you fucking his niece?"
Jake's eyes flashed with anger as he rounded on Bradley. "I'm not fucking her. I'm not fucking anyone, okay? I thought I made that clear."
"Okay," Bradley said, holding his hands up in surrender. 
"That's not even why I like her so much," Jake grunted. "I asked her out a bunch of times after she had that bad date with Cam Harvey. One day I asked her when we were alone in the elevator, and she told me to shut up, and then she kissed me. And then she kissed me again in the hangar. And then she kissed me in the rec room, and fuck... I don't know what to do. Because we made out in my car yesterday. And I asked her out again, and she told me no. Again."
Bradley was trying not to laugh out loud, so he simply said, "My wife is kind of pissed at you, I think. Please fix that." And then he headed for the stairs leaving Jake sweating for more than one reason. 
--------------------------
You had been avoiding everyone else for the past few days, not only because you were sick of the bullshit, but also so you could spend more time with Bradley. You started tracking when you were ovulating on your phone, but you hadn't told him about it. You didn't even really like thinking about it yourself, but since you had a visit with your doctor coming up, you wanted to be able to talk about your fertility. 
Bradley let you sleep in late on Saturday, and when you finally rolled out of bed, the smell of coffee and toast had your stomach growling. When you went into the kitchen, Bradley was naked, leaning against the counter and reading something he got in the mail. Tramp was sitting at his feet, hoping for a little snack. As Bradley raised a piece of toast to his mouth, he turned to look at you. 
"Morning, Sweetheart," he said, clearly startled as he flattened down the mail and tossed it carefully aside. 
"You're naked," you whispered, taking your time, letting your gaze wander everywhere. The tattoo on his right bicep made your skin feel warm, and his thick cock had you licking your lips. 
"Yeah, I've gotta wear a suit all night. I'm trying to get my freedom in now," he said with a grin.
"You're ridiculous," you giggled, closing the distance to him and pressing your lips to his tattoo. 
He wrapped his arms around you and pressed his lips to your ear, keeping you in place as the prickle of his mustache had more laughter bubbling out of you. "You want me to make you some toast?"
"How long have we been together, and you still only know how to make toast?" you asked, turning your head to kiss his lips. 
"Hey, be nice. I get better every day."
You licked his mustache, and Bradley's cock throbbed against your belly. "Yeah, you do, Roo," you whispered, smiling against his lips. As your fingertips brushed along his scarred cheek, he slowly reached for the hem of his soft UVA tee that you were wearing. You shivered as he guided the fabric up, skimming your body with his fingertips as he went. "You get better and better," you moaned. 
The shirt was discarded across the room, and Bradley's hand went right to your dainty Rooster tattoo before he grabbed you by your hips and lifted you up onto the kitchen counter as you squeaked. He sighed deeply as he planted his palms on the counter on either side of your butt and leaned in close to you.
"You don't even want toast, do you?" he asked, brushing your lips with his as you looped your arms around his neck.  
"No," you whispered, nipping at him as he pulled away a few inches. "I don't want toast."
You spread your legs wide and let your toes trail up and down his legs, urging him closer, but he just smirked. "Tell me what you want, Baby Girl. I want to hear you say it."
His tip was right there, teasing your entrance with his precum as your head tipped back, and a soft, needy sound escaped you. Bradley's hands went to your hips, fingers digging gently into your flesh. When you met his eyes, you knew he was ready to go, but you knew he wouldn't until you told him.
"I want something sweet for breakfast. A creampie from my husband."
"God damnit," Bradley groaned as his big hands squeezed your hips. "I'm all yours."
As you scooted to the very edge of the counter and took his length in one of your hands, you guided him inside you where he belonged. "Yeah, you are," you confirmed, and then he started thrusting. You had to hold on tight as he whispered the loveliest things that made you feel like you were going to float away.
"I love you."
"You're perfect."
"I was made for you."
"Show me your pretty eyes when you cum for me."
So you did. And even though you were sweaty and your glasses were crooked on your nose, Bradley told you that you were everything he wanted, and he gave you that sweet creempie after serving up a delicious orgasm on a silver platter.
You kept him buried deep, his lips on your shoulder as you cradled his head and stroked your fingers through his hair. "I love you, Roo." He continued to treat your oversensitive skin to his lips and hands, making no move to leave you yet. After a few more minutes, when his mouth settled on your collar bone and your hands were enjoying the feel of his biceps, you thought he might get hard again while he was still inside you. 
Just as your pussy pulsed with excitement at the idea, Tramp ran to the front door, barking up a storm. Bradley leaned to the side and groaned as he looked out the window. "It's Jake's car."
You whined and tried to keep him in place, but Bradley pulled his cock free of your pussy, and you knew his cum was dripping onto the granite counter by the look on his face. "So pretty," he whispered, swiping his fingers through the mess quickly, and when you parted your lips, he slipped his fingers into your mouth. "Such a filthy wife." You sucked his fingers clean, and then there was a hard knock on the door, and you were scrambling for your shirt. Bradley ran to the bedroom, but a few seconds later, he threw you a pair of your leggings. 
"I'm getting in the shower," he informed you as you pulled your leggings up over your messy, sticky thighs. 
He was gone again as there was another knock on the door. "I'm coming!" you shouted, giggling, because you just did. But when you opened the door, Jake was standing there with a huge bouquet of flowers. "Hi," you said a little cautiously. 
"Angel," he drawled, handing the blooms to you with a shrug. "You gonna invite me in?"
You could hear the shower start up in your bathroom along with one of Bradley's playlists. "Sure." He slipped past you and started playing with Tramp. "What are the flowers for?"
He looked at you like you were very dense. "You're being promoted tonight, Lieutenant Commander. And, I've been a bit of an ass."
You snorted and carried the flowers to the kitchen, setting them down next to Bradley's mail pile. "Well, that's nothing new."
"No," he replied, "I suppose not. But I was rude to you the other morning, ignoring you as soon as Cat got there."
You sighed and eyed him carefully. "You shouldn't let her take advantage of you. I know about you and Cat, okay? I saw you in the tower like a week and a half ago, kissing in the rec room." Your voice sounded bitter, and you felt like you needed to defend yourself, but he was already talking. 
"I know you know. Rooster told me. And I'm sorry you didn't hear it from me first, Angel." His brow was creased, and he was looking at the floor.
"Why do you look sad? You're dating Cat."
He met your eyes instantly. "Is that what you think? Angel, she won't go out with me at all. I've asked so many times, but she just wants to mess around." He ran his hand up and down the back of his neck and muttered, "I'm getting the impression she wants to sleep with me as long as I'm willing to keep it quiet."
Your blood was absolutely boiling now as you pulled him into a hug.
"Hey, no, it's okay," he whispered, patting your back before pulling away again. "I didn't even come here to talk about that. I just wanted to say good luck, and I can't wait to see your new pin next week. Oh, and I'll be around if you need anything when Rooster's gone."
Just then your husband strolled back into the kitchen, thankfully wearing clothes this time. He just picked up his mug of what must be room temperature coffee and kissed your cheek. "Listen to Jake, Sweetheart. You call him first if anything happens."
You rolled your eyes as Bradley smirked and leaned against the counter where you'd recently been sitting, stuffed full of his cock. "I will." 
The three of you chatted for a bit, but when you noticed that it was noon, you kicked Jake out so you could start getting ready for the night. But you were happy Jake had stopped by. It made you beyond upset that Cat was toying with him, but he wouldn't talk about it any further. 
When Bradley led you through your bedroom and into the bathroom, you smiled. "Why don't you take a nice, long bath before we get ready to go?'
You kissed him as he patted your butt and leaned down to get the water ready for you. And then he brought you a flute of champagne and a sandwich, and you soaked until the water started to turn cold. 
----------------------------
Bradley didn't know why he was so nervous. He had been nowhere near this bad when he was the one being promoted to Lieutenant Commander. But now that it was your turn, it was a combination of so many things. He was proud of you, and he wanted everyone to know it. He watched you get dressed earlier, and he knew that you were wearing one of your matching sets of sexy honeymoon underwear. He was nervous he'd put your pin on wrong. He was supposed to be texting photos to your parents. 
And you were ovulating, and he had a hotel room upstairs all ready for the two of you. This morning in the kitchen had been a real spur of the moment treat. He'd loved that. But he knew that you and he needed to get serious over the next day and a half before he left on deployment. 
He was spending so much time thinking about your cycle, that he almost forgot to take a picture of you being introduced with Captain Bickel and some other guy from your lab who was also being promoted. The urge to stand up, point you out and let everyone know you were his wife was strong, but he kept it together. He was, however, clapping the loudest for you. 
Your eyes caught his where he sat at the banquet table in the hotel ballroom, and he couldn't believe you were his. You were charming, beautiful and so smart, and you had that little tattoo just for him. He was obsessed, and he just knew a baby would happen eventually. It had to. You'd be the perfect mom, just like Carole. And he'd learn how to be a good dad, just like Goose. Bradley was already spending so much time thinking about baby names and the fact that he wouldn't mind a job teaching at Top Gun versus constantly flying missions.
"Oh shit," he muttered, jumping to his feet. It was time for him to pin you. Time for him to officially make you a Lieutenant Commander. He lined up off to the side of the small stage, waiting for his turn. Your bright smile and the soft curve of your cheek had his heart thudding in his chest. Nobody deserved this shit more than you did, and your smile just grew when he walked across the stage with your new pin in his hand. 
Bradley let his fingers skim along the white fabric of your jacket as he whispered, "Hey, Baby Girl."
"Hi, Roo," you replied, and he kissed your cheek softly before he added the little gold pin to your jacket that would make everyone stop and salute you. 
He patted it in place and said, "I'm proud of you." And then as an officer himself, he saluted you, and you reciprocated with a smile just for him before he left you up on the stage in the spotlight. Then your boss said so many flattering things about your work ethic and your character. And by the time you were dismissed from the stage, you came running into his arms. 
He held you against him, and you snuggled into his suit coat. When you eventually met his gaze with the most innocent looking expression on your face, he should have known you were about to make him blush. "Roo," you whined softly. "Admiral Simpson isn't here tonight. Who's desk are you doing to fuck me on, Daddy?"
You were a handful, literally and figuratively. His hands slid down your lower back to the top of the swell of your ass. "I thought you might ask about that. I got us a suite for the night. Penthouse. Pink champagne. A nice big desk with no time restraints and nobody to interrupt us."
Adoration washed over your face as you kissed his neck just above his shirt collar. "You're the best."
-----------------------------
Sitting through dinner between your boss and your husband was challenging, but after a glass of wine, you managed to pull it off. On one side of you, Bickel was talking about your lab. On the other side, Bradley was whispering about eating your pussy. 
As soon as dancing started, you took Bradley by the hand and let him out into the lobby. "You're done?" he asked with a smirk. 
"Yes, I'm done. Take me to our suite and do all that shit you just promised me."
"Anything you want, Lieutenant Commander," he rasped next to your ear as he removed your hat and handed it to you. As you waited for the elevator, his lips were on your hair and his hands were working on the buttons of your jacket while he hummed a song. You were so horny, you were ready to burst, probably because you were ovulating. But you'd barely been thinking about that at all. You just wanted your husband nonstop. That's what you were focusing on. 
"Fuck me on the desk," you moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pushed you back against the wall of the elevator next to the control panel and selected the top floor. His hands were smooth as he unzipped your pants and eased his hand inside. 
"I'm going to fuck you everywhere." His body was huge and warm, and he had you boxed in. "I want you to keep that sexy bra on for me. Reminds me of our honeymoon."
You moaned so loudly, you barely heard the bell indicating that you'd arrived at your floor. Bradley picked you up and carried you out into the hallway where a family was waiting to go downstairs. "Evening," he muttered unapologetically as you giggled and sucked on his neck. He looked delicious in his blue suit, but you wanted him out of it, and you wanted his cock inside you.
As soon as you saw the beautiful hotel suite and chilled champagne, Bradley had you on the desk on your back, and he was leaning over you. "You gonna let me eat that pussy, Lieutenant Commander?"
"Yes, sir!" you whined before he kissed you hard and sloppy. He was working your shoes, socks, pants and underwear off, and soon you were there in your unbuttoned jacket and wrinkly shirt, naked from the waist down. The cool air on your skin had you tugging him by his hair until he released your lips. "Get to work," you commanded, and his mustache twitched as he smiled and slipped two thick fingers inside you. "Oh!"
"Don't rush me," he grunted slowly, pushing his fingers deeper. "I have plans for this pussy. I'll take care of everything."
And he did. He knelt on the floor and pulled you closer to his mouth, blowing softly until you were whining and begging to be touched. And then he ate you out until you had tears in your eyes. 
"You're dripping onto the desk, Sweetheart," Bradley muttered reverently. "Oh my god." He licked a stripe from your asshole all the way to your clit, and you could tell you were about to cum. He used his wicked mouth and fingers in tandem until you were grasping the edge of the desk and panting. And then you came for him when he told you to. 
When you sat up in a puddle of your own juices, you were dizzy and disoriented. Bradley stripped you down to just your white bra as you enjoyed the aftershocks of your orgasm. And then while he was still dressed in his blue suit with just his hard cock hanging out the front of his pants, he kissed you softly.
"Spread 'em nice and wide for me," he instructed, squeezing your thighs. "Show me that pussy." You did as you were told, because you were smart. Your husband had plans for you. He fucked you silly so that you were leaning back with your hands braced on the desk. Bradley was big and strong, and he managed to get just the right leverage so that you were seeing stars and gasping for air with every hard stroke. It almost hurt. But it felt too good at the same time. 
"Roo," you groaned, mouth hanging open and legs spread wide. His face was red, and the veins in his neck were prominent. You wanted to lick them and the beads of sweat dripping down his cheek, but he had you pinned in place by your hips. And he didn't slow his pace until he came inside you, chanting praises about your tight pussy and your pretty tits. 
And you were still a little dizzy as you and he climbed in bed, unwilling to clean up his cum before you got cozy. You were snuggling on top of him, giggling as his suit was half on his body and half off, and he was kissing your face as he caught his breath. 
"I like promotion banquet hotel room desks," you whispered, wondering if it was a good time to go pop that bottle of champagne. 
"Fuck, Baby Girl. I like everywhere with you," he groaned, tightening his arm around you. So you decided to forego that champagne for now and bury your nose against his neck where you felt warm and loved. 
You were about to tell him how much you were going to miss him for the next eight weeks. Your lips were parted, and the words were right there. But then he kissed your forehead and said, "Okay, I was looking at the calendar earlier, and your cycle is really working in our favor. You're ovulating now, and you should be ovulating again when I get back, so really, we're only going to miss out on one month of trying."
You swallowed hard and remained silent, but your heart was beating faster in a way that was making you feel nauseous, and your lip was quivering. 
"Roo," you whispered, unsure what to say. 
"I know," he added. "It's not ideal that I'm leaving now, but at least it's not for any longer. I've been thinking about it a lot, and taking a month off isn't the end of the world."
Tears leaked from your eyes, hot and angry. It was no use trying to hide them. He knew you were crying right away. "What?" he asked, surprised by your reaction. 
You jerked your body away from his and wiped at your eyes. Suddenly you wished you were wearing more than just your bra as you gasped, "I was enjoying my night! I wasn't even thinking about that!"
He looked like you'd physically hit him. "Oh. It's just that I'm always thinking about that, Sweetheart."
"Me too!" you replied, hands shaking as you climbed out of bed. "But taking one fucking night off to be proud of myself for something in my life that I can control was feeling really good!"
He looked at you cautiously as you found your underwear and then dug around in your overnight bag for more clothing. "I'm proud of you, Baby Girl. I told you that."
"Yeah," you snapped, pulling on a tee shirt. "And then you fucking ruined it by acting like I'm a job to be done. Like getting me pregnant is something to check off your list of chores." You threw your arms out to your sides as you stood in front of where he was still laying on the bed. "But guess what, Bradley. I'm not pregnant. Sorry. I'm sorry your chores are taking so long for you to complete!"
You choked and started sobbing on the last word, and when he reached for you, he was decidedly the last thing you wanted right now. Instead you turned toward the bathroom where you could be angry and hurt in peace.
A few minutes later, you were curled up on the bath mat when he knocked softly on the door. When you didn't respond, he tried the handle which you had locked. "Will you let me come in?" he asked softly. 
You shook your head and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to fight off all of the intrusive thoughts that were already filling your head and heart. Your voice was quiet and hollow as you said, "I'm sorry I can't give you what you want." And eventually you fell asleep right there between the toilet and the tub.
--------------------------
Roo, you're a team, sweet boy. Baby Girl, you're perfect. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 9
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
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torasplanet · 1 month
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Hellooo! I'm new to your page and to the Blue Lock Fandom. I was wondering if I could get some headcannons on what boys you think would have a black gf and how they would interact with her and her family. I hope this is okay! I haven't been able to fully check the rules yet, so I understand if it's not something you want to do. I love your page ✨️
❝𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐅.ᐟ❞
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BLLK. MEN + BLACK! F. READER
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; blue lock boys with a black gf and meeting her family !!
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨; fluff, skin color is not mentioned but black reader, that mean ass auntie everyone has in chigiris and i think sae’s , that’s it i think and ignore how every scenario has something to do with food, i’m a fatass
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YOICHI ISAGI
come on now… ik y’all saw this one coming
i feel like isagi is that boyfriend that loves soul foodddd, like i’m talking he will beg you for it everytime you cook
he could eat an entire pan of cornbread after a rough practice i’m telling you and maybe a lil chili on the side
everytime you get your hair done, he always looks at you like he’s never seen you before and you were light itself
“wow that’s so good! i saw this one style on instagram, you should get it.”
when it comes to meeting your parents, he’s literally shitting himself and on top of that, you chose to bring him to meet your family during easter so that means all your family was there
and they all saw him being so fucking competitive with the little kids to get the eggs, it started as a game but then the little kids started calling him poop head and he cannot let that go
speaking of, he is a baby magnet. all your little cousins wanted to play with him
“hi…i’m yoichi.” isagi muttered while standing beside you nervously with a red solo cup in his hand full of a caprison, he didn’t know if he was allowed to get the sodas. your baby cousin told him only for adults.
your mom smiled at him with a laugh “nice to meet you, i hear good things about you.” she says and isagi nods while trying not to seem too nervous as your dad hasn’t said anything yet. “yeah, nice to meet you man.” your father says raising a fist for a fist bump.
isagi smiled non-nervously for the first time and returned the fist bump. you leaned on his side comfortingly but the conversation was cut short when your baby cousin ran up and tapped your boyfriend’s leg. “play with me! help me find eggs!” she yelled jumping up and down and isagi looked at you for approval and you nodded before watching the two scurry away toward the yard.
“better start cooking, he’s gonna work up an appetite.” your mom said to your dad with a laugh making a deep belly chuckle come from him while you sweat-dropped. isagi could be really competitive when he wanted to and lord knows that those little kids took this egg hunt seriously. he was gonna be the designated babysitter for the rest of his life.
and wouldn’t ya know it? five minutes later, all you hear is isagi screaming with your younger cousin at all the other ones “move you little shit. it’s mine.” he grumbled pushing a 7 year old to the ground to get the egg but when they tried snatching it out his hand, he picked them up and started to threaten them to their face.
“yoichi!” you yelled from the porch glaring at him to tone it down and he sighed and dropped the child but only whispered his threats now. ever since then isagi loved going to your family gatherings, he likes the children games.
SAE ITOSHI
sae is a traveling man, he’s all over the world so he’s vaguely familiar with dating women of all different races
he likes taking you on dates and spending hella fucking money on you
that being said, he likes to pay for all the things you want. he likes to pay for your hair, the products, your clothes, if you want your nails done, he’ll drop a band right there for whatever design you want
sae kind of has a fascination with your body also, like whenever you get out the shower he likes to rub lotion and whatever other products you use on you but not in a sexual way
that’s just a gen hc but whatever
sae really likes to watch you do your hair, not because he doesn’t know anything about it, he just really likes to watch. it’s also good for you because whenever you get too frustrated he just calms you down and says he can get someone to do it if u want
really bad at doing your hair and not just curly hair, any type of hair. straight, kinky, wavy, it’s doesn’t matter bc the most he can do it probably a ponytail
anyways he’s probably very chill about meeting parents, he’s a very classy guy so he has nothing to worry about especially bc he met them during christmas, so he bought hella gifts
that being said, he’s also not going to let any disrespect to you slide
sae stacked two plates with macaroni and cheese, turkey, greens and other foods he knew that you liked as he occasionally said hi to the people that passed by him in the kitchen. once he was finished he trodded over to the living room where you sat chatting among your family while trying to avoid the children running around.
he swiftly dodged one of the soccer balls he got one of your nieces as a gift and made his way to you and your mom. “here baby.” sae muttered handing you your plate and then your mother hers. you thanked him with a smile but the smile didn’t last long when you heard the huff of your aunt beside your mom.
“honey, i feel so bad for you. you had to make her plate.” your aunt said with a small chuckle as the boy sat next to you with a confused look on his face. “why is that a bad thing?” he asked already not liking where this conversation was going. the entire car ride, you were complaining about this aunt and how annoying she was toward you but how you never said anything.
you grabbed his hand to tell him to just let it go but you should’ve known better, if you weren’t going to do something, he was going to do it. “well you’re the man, she’s supposed to be serving you.” sae rolled his eyes very obviously with a ‘ugh’ leaving his throat.
“if i’m the man i should be serving her. she shouldn’t have to move an inch.” he muttered glaring at your aunt and looking her up and down with disgust and that’s when you decided to stop it. you put your hand on the side of his face and turned it toward you to whisper in his ear. “be quiet.” you muttered and he only rolled his eyes again.
you took a spoonful of food and shoved it in his mouth before kissing his cheek to thank him for standing up for you. “you’re annoying.” sae said beneath his breath and you just told him “thank you.”
RYUSEI SHIDOU
idk how to explain it but i don’t think you being black would change how he acts in the relationship
he buys you things, clothes, food, anything you’d like
doesn’t care much for your hair and not in a disrespectful way it’s just he wouldn’t get it if you said it looks bad when it looks perfectly fine to him??
does like watching you do your makeup and commenting that your concealer shade is so much lighter than you and laughing about it (he barely understands shit abt makeup unless it’s eye makeup)
when meeting your parents, he was not nervous but you warned him that he needs to tone it down just a bit afterall this is the first time they’re meeting him
he didn’t want to do it but he did because you asked him to although despite this, he still fits right in with your uncles
and not the sports fanatic uncles, the uncles that try and upstage each other during every family gathering
you watched as shidou laughed with your uncles in the backyard, all of them with a drink in their hand due to new years just coming around merely minutes ago. “you play soccer right? must be flexible as hell.” one of your uncles asked shidou as they lightly punched him on his shoulders while he laughed.
this was shidou’s opportunity to show out. to show how flexible and amazing he was and of course, he’ll never miss an opportunity to show off his talents. “hell yeah i am! watch this.” he mutters making motions for everyone to make room for him and they did. seconds later, shidou began to do a backflip that just turned into him doing other flips until he felt like stopping.
“wooo!” “damn man!” the men whistled as they gathered around your dear boyfriend who just laughed extremely loud. then his stomach started to growl and he immediately looked over to you who watched the entire ordeal “babydoll!” the tanned man shouted immediately gaining your attention. “can you get my plate please?” he asked still yelling. usually you would’ve told him no and that he can get it himself but he was having so much fun, so you nodded and went inside to get his plate
when you came back from retrieving his plate, he was sitting at the table on the porch waiting for you breathing heavily. “you have fun over there?” you asked sitting next to him and he nodded with a laugh “yeah and now i’m hungry, feed me.” shidou said with his words coming out as a jokingly beastly sound making you grin.
“nah, you have hands.” you said pushing the plate toward him but he let out a groan as he threw his head back. “my bones hurt.” you sighed at his pleading and picked up the fork before scooping mac and cheese on it and of course, shidou had to give you instructions. “get some of the barbecue from the ribs on it.”
RENSUKE KUNIGAMI
pretty much a combination of everyone on this post
child magnet, parents love him, uncles love him, just really loved by your family overall
he likes soul food but mainly the desserts, he loves that shit
kunigami doesn’t really know how to do your hair but he tries his best but he’s really good at doing your edges for some reason…
knows so much about you that he can go into the beauty supply store and they recognize him and already have all your skin stuff ready
unlike everyone else on this list, he met your family when they came to one of his things and even tho he talked to them for only a few minutes, he managed to make them accept him into the family already
kunigami sat in the empty locker room drinking out of his water bottle with heavy breaths leaving his throat. the game was very stressful but it was fine because he saw you in the stands cheering for him like always with the addition of your parents.
his attention turned to the door when he heard it opening and he saw you and your parents standing there with smiles on your faces, you had on one of his extra jerseys with a corny smile. “you did so good!” you screeched hugging him as your parents laughed at how excited you were.
“i’m not a huge soccer guy but you are good.” your dad said walking over and putting his back comfortingly making kunigami smile. then came your mom with a styrofoam box in her hand. she practically forced it into his hands “here, i thought you’d need it after allat running.” she said and your boyfriend smiled not overwhelmed one bit with all the attention.
kunigami opened the box and ate a spoonful of one of the food portions and immediately hummed in delight. “mhm! this is so good. you either have to give me the recipe or make me my own tray.” the ginger boy said with a hearty smile on his visage.
you kissed his cheek “okay we’ll leave you to get dressed, see you after.” you said with a smile before you and your parents walked away with kunigami bidding his goodbyes to the both of you. safe to say, they loved him.
HYOMA CHIGIRI
just like he’s obsessed with his hair, he’s obsessed with yours
like obsessed obsessed, if he didn’t know how to do your type of hair before, he learned how to like he might as well be your hair stylist because he can do whatever style
silk press, ponytail, simple straightening, literally you name it and he can do it. certain hairstyles he can’t exactly do well like box braids and shit, you’re better off going to someone else but still
if you wear wigs, he knows how to lay that shit DOWN. and by this i mean he watched so many tutorials and can only glue it. so don’t expect him to do the whole thing
beauty supply store knows him by name, he’s always in there buying stuff for you (and him) like he knows everything you need and use. mielle, carols daughter, he knows it all
he also likes when you do his hair, he really likes when his hair smells like yours because of the oil but don’t fw his shampoo. he got that routine down.
he wasn’t nervous meeting your parents, he didn’t really care too much for it so he went there and acted like his usual self. his pretty princess self.
“c’mon get on that grill, show us whatcha got.” your dad said slapping a hand on chigiri’s back that hurt a lot more that he’d anticipated. he looked at your dad and your uncles standing around him unaware of you watching from the porch.
kids ran around wanting to light the fireworks for fourth of july already as you sat next to your aunt. “when are you going to get a man? it’s been years [y/n]?” she asked turning toward you and you looked at her confused while trying to figure out what she meant by that.
“he’s right there, what are you talking about?” you asked tilting your head and your aunt merely scoffed as she rolled her eyes. “please, he looks like a girl and can’t grill nuthin’.” your aunt said a little too confident for someone that’s been single since you were little. “he doesn’t cook with his hair down.” you said with your nose scrunched up irritated as if he was the devil, chigiri appeared in front of you with a sheepish smile.
“hey babe, hope i’m not interrupting anything.” the redhead said looking between you and the older woman and you gave her a passive aggressive smile before turning back to your boyfriend. “not at all, what’s up?” chigiri smiled and turned around with his back facing you.
“can you put my hair up? i’m gonna cook.” chigiri asked and you hummed in response before beginning to put his luscious locks into a high ponytail with the hair tie on your wrist. “thanks babe, come over with me. i miss you.” chigiri said turning around and kissing your cheek. the whole reason he was asking you to come over there was because he could clearly see your hatred for your aunt in this moment.
plus he really did miss you. “okay, bye.” you said waving to your aunt not even looking at her before you and chigiri walked off the porch and to the grill. your aunt did not like him but after he cooked the food, your dad did.
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onmyyan · 1 year
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Can I get Delmont HC’s for when one of their ex flings or situationships try to get at the Delmont’s again and reader just gets sad instead of jealous ☹️
Oh this was so good my hands started typing before I could stop em!
A/N: Yandere, murder mentioned in Marcos, Manny kills someone,
Starting with OG lover boy, Cas takes your relationship very, very seriously.
Let's set the scene, the two of you are cuddled up at a work party of yours and a coworker you didn't really talk to much comes sauntering over with a smile far too friendly for your liking, it made a nasty feeling settle deep within your gut, something about her gaze lingering on the tall man by your side made you feel uncomfortable.
"Caspian? I haven't seen you in ages! How are you these days?" She'd ask completely ignoring your presence. Your eye flickered from the long legged woman to your now tense boyfriend. Caspian was almost always relaxed and happy with you, so you immediately clocked his off behavior.
"Hey Ana, been good." Was his simple, curt response, his hand moved from it's warm spot on your waist to his pant pocket, (He felt his temper instantly rise and couldn't risk hurting you so he moved his clenched fist to his pocket.) and you felt silly about it afterwards but in that moment, that small action felt like a rejection. The ugly feelings brewing in your stomach made the drink on your tongue turn bitter.
"You look amazing Cas, I see you kept up with our gym routine after all huh?" She giggled as if it was an inside joke between them, her body faced him, now closer than before, and you felt like a stranger intruding on something personal, all too quickly, you felt your throat tighten.
"It's so crazy running into you here, I was just thinking about how much fun we had together, we should go out for a drink later, maybe catch up?"
Caspian stared long and hard at the woman but your emotions were quickly spiraling out of control, you could feel your gut twist at the thought of him entertaining her, and before you could hear his response, you muttered out a barley audible "Excuse me." To the pair, quickly making your retreat to the nearest bathroom, thanking the universe that it was empty because no sooner than you closed the door did your bottom lip start to tremble.
Had you stayed you would have seen the downright murderous look on your boyfriend's face.
In his head he's trying to figure out the best way to turn her down without embarrassing you at your job, it's the only reason he doesn't notice your sudden mood shift.
He was trying to process the woman's audacity, a curt decline on the tip of his tongue, when you suddenly disappeared from his side. In an instant panic, he not so subtly shoves his way past the woman to where he thinks you went.
He uses the tracker on your phone to track you down to the bathroom and fully intended on waiting by the door until you came out, but then he heard the sound he hated most in the world, you sniffling.
Bursts in the door like there's a fire, not caring about anything but getting to you, checking you over. He ignores your gasp and hushed whispers to get out before he got in trouble, and cradles your wet face between his big hands.
"What's wrong Honey? How can I help?" He's staring at you with those big red eyes, brows furrowed in concern, and you can't help the tearful giggle you let out at his behavior.
"It's stupid-"
"If it made my baby cry it's far from stupid." He corrects immediately, thumbs wiping at any stray tears left.
"That woman- the way she spoke to you. I just, I hated how that made me feel and I don't know- I'm sorry, we can just go back to the party okay?" You turn from him to face the mirror and in an attempt to brush past what you considered an embarrassing moment, begin wiping at the smeared mascara on your eyes.
He smacks his teeth at his own idiocy, he hadn't even considered how that stupid wench made you feel in the moment, god what must be running through your mind, he couldn't imagine an ex of yours trying to ask you out in front of him, the guilt swells immediately, he wanted to run back out there and throw that harlot down the stairs for making your pretty face fall the way it had.
Instead he made his way to the bathroom door and clicked the lock in place, you turned to face him but your questions died on your tongue as he made his way towards you with that particular dark look in his eye.
"Forgive me, my love. I didn't mean to make you upset, I just didn't wanna make a scene at your job." He says casually falling to his knees before you, his hands trailing up your calves, to your thighs, finally settling on the thin fabric of your underwear, he stared up from between your legs with the softest look on his face.
"Let me make it up to you Honey."
Gabe has a much more explosive reaction
You two are at the gym, Gabe was sweating and sitting there all gorgeous and shit, he's making sure you watch as he lifts, his veins bulging in his arms as he winks at you. "Be my spotter baby I need my motivation." He grits out with that wolfish smile stretched across his flushed face.
You weren't nearly as athletic as the man and sometimes it felt as if you didn't belong in the gym, but he was quick to snuff out these thoughts, swearing up and down he preformed better on his sets when you were watching, that he needed you by his side even if you weren't working out as well.
He not only wants you around because he can't get enough of you, but he also really wants you to see him be hot, unfortunately that meant everyone at the gym got to see it too.
"I'll be right back baby, gonna go grab you a water." You smile at his immediate pout, the grabby hands he makes as he demands a goodbye kiss, even though you'd only be gone a few moments, but that's all the time the blonde woman stalking up to him needs.
The stranger to you was an old fling of Gabe's, he barely recognized her when she invited herself to his personal space like she was allowed, the only reason he didn't immediately brush her off was because she said his name, he was confused as she neared him, her smile too wide to be genuine.
the blue haired giant was the best sex of her life and despite the fact that she saw his blatant affection for you, she made her move anyway.
You came back to quite the sight, Gabe sat stiffly on the machine he was at, his elbows on his knees as he stared up at the blonde beside him, his face set in that sinfully attractive hardened stare,
The woman currently leaning too close for comfort on his machine looked like someone out of a fitness magazine, she was fit, completely toned and gorgeous, you couldn't help the twinge of discomfort at how close they were, how they looked like the perfect couple.
You neared them awkwardly as her back was to you and heard her say, "It's been too long Gabriel, I miss you, god your body is still insane, what are your benching now 250? 300. You could definitely still toss me around the bed." Her tone was dripping in flirtation, she dragged a finger up the pole of the machine he sat on, leaning down to press her chest together.
Before you could think about turning away from the upsetting sight, Gabe abruptly stood up, his glare dead set on the woman, his eyes flickered to you, immediately clocking the way your shoulders shrunk in, how you seemed to deflate at the situation, he could practically read your mind, knowing how easily your brain went to the worst places, he felt his temper skyrocket at the mere idea of you being upset by this nobody.
"Baby! I think we should end this early yeah? I got a better idea for a workout that involves you, me, and my backseat." He says almost whining as he throws his sweaty body all over you, his arms holding you tight against his body as he kissed the top of your head, rocking into the hug.
"This place just let's anybody in, we should switch to a new gym." His glare turned to the woman, if looks could kill she'd be on the ground. "C'mon ma, let's go before I get belligerent."
Ricky fully ignores the interaction lmao it's so rude
You'd come to the Auto shop with a homemade lunch for your sweet Ricky as he forgot to pack his own and called you to bring him one (he definitely did this on purpose just to see you at work)
You enter the shop and start to head straight to the back before being stopped by a manicured hand snapping in your face rather rudely.
"Hi ma'am, you can't just walk in here, you have to make an appointment." The woman behind the receptionist desk was new, you'd never seen her in here before, she was practically sneering at you, her plastic, customer service smile held no warmth as she tapped her nail against the sign in sheet impatiently.
You laughed instinctually at the tense situation, trying to dispell the awkwardness, you didn't understand her hostility, "Oh my boyfriend works here, he's expecting me." You say offering her a friendly smile, trying to smooth over any unpleasantness.
"Well I'm going to need some identification." She says matter of factly, her body now blocking your path. "uh no?" You said not wanting the stranger to see your information, you'd come to the shop hundreds of times now, everyone knew who you were, everyone but this woman it seems.
She scoffed at your refusal her voice raising in anger as she glared at you, "If you don't cooperate I'll have to call security." She threatened not knowing how deep she was digging her grave.
"My love? What's going on." Ricky's deep, baritone voice suddenly called out from around the corner, he thought it was odd you hadn't appeared yet as his tracker app said you'd arrived at his work minutes ago, it wasn't like you to delay so he listened to his gut and went outside seeing you being harassed by the new receptionist.
His blood pressure rises instantly and he has to fight to keep his hands from yanking her away from you.
He'd only signed off on her hiring because he knew she was infatuated with him, they hooked up once a few years ago and she would do anything to have it happen again, of course Ricky had no intention of fulfilling her desires, he just needed someone he knew would keep their mouth shut if they happened to see/notice something funky with the shop.
But her value immediately diminishes the second she gets in your way, his glare could melt glass as he tells her a simple, but aggressive, "Move." He holds his arms out to you and when you curl into his touch he makes a point to kiss your temple, his focus completely on you. "Are you alright love? What was she doing?" He asks tenderly rubbing your face. The receptionist opens her mouth to respond but Ricky shuts her up with a single raised hand, "She was just asking for my ID, I brought your lunch!" You say excitedly, his gaze grows warm at the adorable sight before he turns to the woman, his eyes dead, his aura dark and imposing.
"Clean out your desk immediately, I want you out of my shop before I come back out here." His tone left no room for argument, almost threatening as he places a hand in the small of your back, gently leading you away. "You didn't need to do that for me-" he cuts you off with an intense, breath stealing kiss, "Of course I did, no one interrupts our time together."
Marcos had always been afraid of his promiscuous past coming back to haunt him, and his violent reaction to this shows.
The two of you had been at a club for a while now, both proper sloshed and sweating, hours of grinding on each other to every song that came on the thumping speakers, he's in heaven with his arms around your waist, his nose buried in your neck as he mouths needy kisses up and down your throat.
You motion towards the bar, your drunk body demanding more alcohol and he begins leading you towards it, his hands never leaving your body.
He all but pushes a guy out of his seat so you can rest there while he gets the bartenders attention. He freezes when the woman turns around. The bartender shoots him a knowing, flirty grin, leans over close and yells over the pounding music, "Hey Marcos baby, you come back for more? I can take my break right now if that's the case."
His eyes flicker to you and his heart stutters at the sad look on your face, be it the copious amounts of liquor you had in your body or how just how gorgeous the woman hitting on him was, you feel your spirits drop, your mind tortured you with images of them together, of him with another, and the insecurities bubble up faster than you can handle, "scuse' me." You drunkenly mutter clasping a hand over your mouth, your stomach felt queasy all of a sudden and you all but ran to the bathroom on shakey legs.
Marcos is seeing red, his mind panicking as he watches you retreat to the bathroom he feels sick himself at the thought of you leaving him, the fear that you may be comparing yourself to such a nothing person, the terrifying thought of this insignificant person making you see him different, it had his chest heaving in a barley concealed rage.
He fixes his burning stare on the bartender, his eyes holding pure malice as he holds himself back from pressing his thumbs into her eyes and slamming her into the bar until it broke.
He says nothing to her, his eyes making her so uneasy she baked away slightly, his mouth felt dry as he pushes and bullies his way past the crowd to barge into the bathroom where he finds you curled around the toilet, he's falling to his knees beside you in an instant, he keeps your hair from your face, a soothing hand on your back as you empty your stomach.
His words are soft and encouraging as he helps you to your feet, uncaring about his expensive clothes being dirtied, uncaring of how messy you look, his eyes are full of love, even a bit teary as he helps you to the sink, as you wash your mouth out he's wetting a paper towel and dabbing the cold cloth to your burning neck, "Oh baby, my sweet girl are you okay? I'm so sorry, come here let me see you."
The moment sobers him entirely, he's calling a deluxe Uber to pick you both up and sending a message to his twin about the bartender, he wanted the bitch dead for even momentarily causing you to frown, he's holding your swaying form against him protectively as he waits for the car, his mind swirling with thoughts of violence and revenge, how dare that waste of air upset you so much? The crime would be repaid in blood.
Manny has the most volatile reaction.
The two of you are a late night, semi exclusive car show, Manny loved watching the races, he stopped racing in them the second you said you worried for his safety but his love for the adrenaline filled sport remained, the classic cars were beautiful and he always smiled so brightly when you indulged his more risky interests.
He loved pointing out the racers he liked or hated, his favorite cars and why, sharing this with you was one of his favorite ways to pass time. You always looked so beautiful under the neon lights, the smell of gasoline in the air.
It's rare for him to leave your side when you're out and about so this happens in front of you, the two of you are cuddled up together, sat comfortably on the hood of his car, his arms around you as you leaned back into his chest, when a woman in leather saunters up to his car.
"Hey Manny, long time no see pretty boy." The woman coo's from her position, her eyes drinking him in, blatantly ignoring your existence.
"Yeah." Is Manny's only response, his grip on your hips tightening before he moves from holding you against him to stepping in front of you, keeping his body between you and what he felt was a threat.
His hair moved everytime a car whizzed by him, but he didn't flinch, his cold eyes trained on the woman from his past.
His voice was clearly irritated, tone leaving no room for friendly interpretation, and yet she persisted, taking a step closer to the tall man who had begun to clench his fists, his body trembling in unfiltered rage.
"You wanna' take another ride? This time if I win, I get my prize up front." Her tone was clear, her implication made more lewd as she looked him up and down.
"Don't talk to me like you know me. Don't talk to me like you're somebody." His voice was dripping venom as he spoke, and if he wasn't furious before, the sad, almost deflated look on your face at her comments made him see red.
The crowds of people were so thick and intense, the loud sounds of the revving engines and screaming spectators only added to his slip of control.
"Relax Manny baby! I'm just teasing you." She puts her hand on his chest and before you could blink the woman's body is flying out towards the road where a car smacks into her with a sick crunch, her limp body is dragged as the car speeds along, unaware of the carnage it caused, screams and shouts of horror come from all around you, people beginning to panic as Manny turns around, all malice gone from his face as he lifts you off the car and ushers you to the passenger seat without a word. "Time to go!" He all but sings as he peels out of the parking lot.
"Holy shit are you okay?" You asked him turning back to stare as the horrifying scene grew farther and farther from his rearview mirror. He placed a shaky hand on your thigh to calm himself as he spoke, "I'm okay baby girl, are you? I'm so so sorry you had to see that." He says, his only guilt came from your date night being cut short.
"Don't be sorry baby, no one could have known that would happen Jesus Christ." You put a hand to your chest trying to ease the fierce beat, he grabbed your free hand, bringing the back of your palm to his lips for a sweet kiss, his eyes crinkling in joy at the thought of her now crumpled body.
"Yeah, accidents happen."
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