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rogue-durin-16 · 3 months ago

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HEAD-TO-HEAD (part XXII/?)

Summary: Joe thought she was pretty. Had he just said that, things might have been different for them. Maybe they wouldn't have gone head-to-head at each other for three years like it was a contest.

Pairing: Joseph Liebgott x Reader

Genre: angst/rivals to lovers

Tags:

Head-to-head: @derersketnoget @ladystardustfromarss @lanadelray1989 @chanshugsaretherapy @hoddystark @sxalbatf @jetjuliette @luvrottt @fromjupitertocentauri @ecompstolemysoul @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bitter-post-millennial @gotxpenny @knight-of-thesun @scottstr3et

Band Of Brothers: @fernando-jpg @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world @clumsy-wonderland @lordndsaviorwinters @lanadelray1989 @chanshugsaretherapy @hoddystark @gotxpenny

Permanent taglist: @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, alcohol, smut (drunk sex, mutual masturbation, exhibitionism? bruh idk I'm just here clutching my pearls💀😭)

A/N: oof I almost cut this one out twice, but @jupiterberriez took the time to make a gorgeous edit for this fic so now I gotta post it in her honor. Y'all once again say thank you to jup and enjoy<3

Head-to-head masterlist

Band of Brothers masterlist

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The fancy pub of the Berchtesgadener Hof was a mess of smoke, sweat, and noise. Someone had dragged a phonograph out of storage and forced it to sing jazz through its warped lungs. Exhilaration and alcohol commanded the victorious celebrations of a day none of us thought would live to see.

I stumbled on one of the bar counters' direction, breathless from laughing at Luz's joke, which probably wouldn't have been that funny if I were sober. Malarkey, draped on a stool, poured the remaining liquor of the bottle he had claimed on a glass, and handed it to me without a question; a gesture I appreciated.

"Danke." I said, saluting before tossing it back, my free hand going up to hold my newly acquired hat in place.

"Jesus, how much've you had?" Malarkey questioned, his face pink from the amount of booze running through his own veins.

"Uh... not enough," I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. "do we have something that'll burn on its way down?" I bent over the expensive surface to check what was left after the entire 506th raided the place.

"Lemme see—" George launched himself over the bar, landing on the other side with close to no grace, empty bottles clattering around him when he lost balance. Both Don and I broke out an intoxicated cackle.

"The fuck you wearin'?" A high-pitched voice drawled behind me, almost offended.

I turned to see Joe sprawled in a sofa someone had definitely stolen from another room, one arm hung over the backrest. His legs were spread, bottle in hand.

More, half lying on the opposite end of the couch with a cigarette between his lips, let out an amused scoff at my look. "You headin' to be judged for your war crimes, Sarge?"

I looked down at myself. The Nazi officer's jacket hung open over my shirt, the matching cap still perched on my head. The insignia gleamed under the warm lights of the room, ridiculous and wrong.

"Fashion." I said flatly. "You wouldn't get it."

Joe squinted. "You look like a dictator's wet dream."

"And you look like you lost a fight with a bottle of Cognac." I quipped sweetly, making a point to put the words out clearly.

Joe blinked like he hadn't expected me to come that close. "Why don'tcha take that shit off?"

"If it bothers you so much, you take it off."

"Wait, what?" Luz snorted returning to sit atop the counter with a bottle of Korn he managed to scrounge up from some abandoned box.

"Dunno," I shrugged; an attempt to move past my own quip. "'M drunk outta my mind."

"C'mon, take that off." Joe insisted, leaning forward, using his elbows on his thighs as support.

With an annoyed exhale, I marched over without answering, yanked the cap off my head, and dropped it in his lap. "There. Happy?"

I reached out and plucked the bottle straight from his hand. His fingers tightened, like he might actually stop me. He didn't, but eyes followed my lax moves as I took a long swig, the liquid hot down my throat.

"Jesus," I coughed, turning the bottle in my hand to check the label. "Okay..." My narrowed gaze did its best to stop the letters from dancing on the . "Think I like this one." I stated, and with some difficulty, got around the misplaced couch and away from the men.

"Hey—" he called after me. "You takin' my bottle?"

I didn't answer. Just raised it behind me in a lazy wave and kept walking, slipping off the main hall and into what I would have sworn was a service corridor. Maybe. Between the daze, the alcohol and the lack of proper light, my mind could barely tell.

I made it halfway down before I heard his footsteps catching up behind me—unsteady but determined.

"You can't just... steal a man's liquor." he muttered, voice low as he cornered me near what I guessed to be a pantry.

I spun to face him a bit too fast, losing my balance momentarily. "Wasn't stealin'." I feigned innocence, my free hand finding the closest wall for leverage. "'s called borrowin', alright?"

"Oh yeah?" He stepped closer, boxing me in between the wall and his chest when I rotated to be face to face with him. "What do I get in return?"

I tilted my head, looking up at him from under my lashes, pulse thudding louder than the music still playing in the background. "You want somethin' in return?"

"That's a fine ass Cognac," he scoffed, pointing at the bottle held hostage against my hip. "'Course I want somethin'."

I tilted my head to the side, a honeyed half smile twisting my visage. "Whaddya want?"

The second-guessing flashed over his face, more noticeable than he would've liked. "You're not subtle."

"Maybe I don't wanna be."

Joe exhaled heavily through his nose, his hand coming up to rub his forehead before his eyes dropped to my mouth.

I leaned back, partly to stop the world from spinning, partly to grant him distance. As a response, Joe stepped closer.

I raised the bottle, tipped it in his direction like a toast. "Happy V-E Day, Lieb."

His brow ticked. He stared at me like he'd misheard—or maybe just didn't know what to do with it.

"…What'd you just call me?"

"Lieb."

"Never called me that."

"Don't make it weird," I said, a little too soft. The bottle clinked gently against the wall as I lowered it to my side. "I'm sayin' a lot of bullshit."

He took another step, his chest grazing my own. "You're just sayin' things you don't wanna say."

"Same thing." I mumbled, not once breaking eye contact.

His hand came to rest on the wall beside my head, knuckles brushing my temple. Two of my fingers looped around his belt, not so much to tug him towards me as it was to hold him there. His mouth hovered near mine in a quiet pause that stretched too long, so I leaned up and kissed him. A quick peck to show my cards better than any messy sentence would. He chased me unconsciously, too slow to catch himself before I noticed.

"You want this?" I whispered, giving his belt an unnoticeable jerk to hide the insecurity with boldness.

"The fuck's it look like?"

I went in again, this time deeper, lazy and aching; the kind of kiss that tasted like celebration and regret in equal measure. His lips were warm, parted, tasting faintly of whatever the hell he'd been mixing up with that cognac bottle. His hand switched the wall for my face, fingers curling beneath the underside of my chin to angle my mouth harder against his.

It got desperate fast—tongue and teeth clashing incautiously as I tried to convey unsaid truths into a reckless act.

The bottle dropped from my grasp; it hit the floor with a dull thud when a muffled moan tore free from his chest, ringing into the kiss. His palm pressed the small of my back to bring me closer, mouth hot and hungry. I did my part to keep him flush against me, clumsy hands traveling up and down his shoulders, fisting his jacket, caressing his cheek, tugging his recently trimmed locks when his teeth trapped my lower lip between them.

My nose bumped his cheekbone when his mouth traveled down my jaw, then to my throat. My head thunked back when sloppy hands pulled my shirt out of my pants, eager fingers trailing up my stomach, hands splaying over my skin, all heat and calluses and uncoordinated hunger, mapping out my body like he wanted the moment ingrained in his touch.

"You're way more fun like this." he muttered, voice thick with something more than just alcohol.

One of his thumbs brushed just beneath the band of my bra, sneaking under the thin layer and making my breath stutter in a gasp against the side of his throat.

"God... Shuddup." I slurred, sliding one hand down, past his belt buckle, fingers clumsy against the rough edge of his waistband. He twitched when I pressed my palm to the front of his briefs. Not even skin to skin yet, and he was already half hard—straining, shifting his weight like standing still was suddenly a problem.

"Y/n…" He said my name like a warning, either for me or for himself, I wasn't able to tell. "I'm—fuck...'m too drunk for this."

What a sobering fucking thing to say.

"We can stop." I mumbled with heated cheeks, not quite meaning it. My hand stayed right where it was.

He didn't even look at me at first—his eyes flicked sideways, back toward the end of the hall where voices still echoed, raucous and drunk and far away from the storm brewing between us.

What am I doing?

I leaned in, pressed my forehead to his collarbone, let the weight of my body fold into him. My fingers squeezed him over the fabric, slow and lazy, and he groaned—quiet and desperate, through clenched teeth.

His hands slid up my back, under the bra strap, down to my ribs, blunt nails digging just a little too hard like he didn't know his own strength anymore.

"Y/n," he said again. Half a plea. "Shit—"

I halted my movements and lifted my head to meet his blown pupils. "Wanna stop?"

"Fuck that." He denied, and so I kissed him again—slower this time, making an effort to keep myself from spiraling out into the turmoil he brought upon me with his lips and his touch and the way he seemed to want me—genuinely want me—bad enough for me to believe it; for me to believe this was more than playing chase for him. More than an outlet for the horrors we had been put through.

My fingers slipped past the waistband, under the cotton. He shuddered. One of his hands slid around to grip my ass, hauling me against him.

"Jesus," he hissed, mouth half on mine. "You're fuckin'... Shit—feel so good—"

"I said shut up." I urged, my lips pressed against his.

"You shut up." he snapped back, breath hitching when I stroked him properly, twisting my wrist in an uncoordinated rhythm that made him jerk in my hand.

We were barely upright, his thigh wedged between mine. My hips rolled down on it automatically, chasing friction, chasing anything. We were grinding like teenagers in a closet, a bad move away from losing what little sense we had left.

He found the button of my pants—missed it once, then again, and cursed against my cheekbone when it finally popped open. His fingers slipped inside. Between. Against me.

My head thunked back against the wall hard enough to sting. "Fuck."

"Yeah?" he fanned, cockiness coating his tone. "God, you're wet."

"Fuck you." I mewled, more impatient than biting.

"'M tryin'."

We were all lust and fingers and panting, unsteady hands working each other with zero finesse. Messy, uneven, desperate. His mouth was everywhere—neck, collarbone, the edge of my jaw. Mine was on his shoulder, biting down when the rhythm got too good.

I let out a whimper, hips jerking down against his hand, against his thigh, against him. He groaned low in his throat and I felt it all the way through my ribs.

I was going to come like this—drunk and wrecked, in a fucking service corridor while the rest of the Company toasted to the end of the world.

"You close?" he rasped.

"Mm-hm." I was mindful to keep my lips tightly pursed, not trusting the noise that would come out if I didn't do so.

"Me too."

"Fuckin' hurry up."

"Bossy."

"Joe—"

His hand flexed, grinding harder—one last effort to tear me apart.

I came with my forehead pressed to his neck, biting down to keep from making noise, while he spilled over my fingers seconds later with a broken moan.

We stood there, clinging to each other, breathing like we'd just run up Currahee. My hand was still down his pants. His was still in mine. Neither of us moved at first; neither of us met the other's gaze either. He placed a poor excuse of a kiss on my temple—something that could've been easily brushed off—, and removed himself from me. I took it as a cue to do the same.

"Still want my damn bottle." He blurted out, breathless and half absent. A deflection of it all.

"All yours." I managed to respond, slipping away from him arms to resume my walk as if nothing had happened. I heard the clink of the bottle being dragged back into Joe's grasp. I didn't look back.

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pinkaditty · 7 months ago

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Holidays with Ghouls (Sho Haizono x Reader; Tokyo Debunker)

please read:

okay. big news + life update: i got into a major car accident a little while ago. my first one ever! i am in a lot of pain so things may be slow-going for a while and ill be unable to commit as much time to writing due to the tangled mess that is dealing with modern insurance companies and recovering from my injuries. thankfully its not so bad to be hospitalized, but its bad enough to limit my activity for the time being. i am somewhat ashamed to ask, but if you like my writing, please consider donating to my cashapp: $cindyfromstarbucks! my car was 100% totaled, and im gonna need to save up for a new one, and my job doesn’t pay very much. thank you for your consideration! please enjoy, regardless! (this paragraph will be on my posts indefinitely, probably until i fully recover)

a/n: LET ME START THIS OFF BY SAYING IT’S ENTIRELY SELF-INDULGENT… i have a green thumb and i’ve been growing a small garden lately (limited space. i hate captialism.) and i just thought “hm. what if we grew fresh ingredients for sho’s food truck?” and the idea stuck and didn’t leave no matter how much i tried 2 shake it off. mc is basically written as me im not gonna hold y’all, but i kept it 2 a minimum so it could still be an ‘x reader’.

summary: self-indulgent reader x sho. in which you do something nice for him and he struggles to return the favor.

no cw! enjoy!

big fan of the “woman that is so wound up all the time and extremely professional and tries to keep everyone at arm’s length distance” x “guy that is only a few years younger than the woman but loves calling her by age-appropriate honorifics (i.e. noona, ojou, jiejie, madame, etc) and goes out of his way to teach her how to fucking relax every once in a while” trope and essentially if i were with sho that is how the relationship would go LMFAOOOOOOO

You used to have a bit of a garden before becoming a student at Darkwick. A part of you often wondered if there were people tending to your garden now so you could return to it, well kept and exactly as you remember it, when you were cured of this curse and got this anomalous ring off of you. You'd never really had the idea to plant anything here; you were much too focused on missions and other incessant errands the ghouls saw fit to send you on. You didn't like it, but held your tongue regardless. If all went well, you wouldn't have to deal with this after less than a year.

You were fond of a few ghouls, though. Some of them were a nice reprieve from the other harsher and more selfish ghouls. Haku was a great example of that, and so was Subaru, his dorm's captain. You'd grown fond on the Jabberwock ghouls, as they were always kind and polite. You didn't really mind the Obscuary ghouls, either. Even if odd, they were good natured, and never turned you away. You appreciated that Rui had a bit of a green thumb too, and would often stop by to assist him with plant care.

The one ghoul you were the most fond of, despite his less than agreeable best friend, was Haizono, or Sho, as he insisted on being called. Sho, despite his friend Leo, was actually pretty friendly. You enjoyed the time you spent around him, whether that was collecting supplies from the diner, or training with him, or even helping him meal prep for the following day for his food truck. It was fun, spending time with Sho. You're almost angry the idea didn't dawn on you sooner.

Said idea is why you carefully sift through the dirt in your compost container, careful not to split any of the worms with your nails. The potatoes should be done growing by now. The idea had dawned on you one day when Sho mentioned not having enough potatoes to serve fries the following day. Potatoes were an easy crop. And they took three months, at most, to grow. Sure, if worse came to worst, you'd die, but growing potatoes was a good distraction and encouraged you to plan for the future, as though you wouldn't die. After a few favors from Benji and some begging towards the chancellor, you had a small garden behind the chapel. Granted, you'd just started it three months ago, so it wasn't as full as your garden back home, but it was good enough. It was hidden from the rest of campus by the surrounding trees, ensuring no one would find the garden unless they had reason to cut around the chapel, which wasn't necessary considering the path out front. Not only did it serve as your little place of respite, it allowed you to do nice things for others. You were just growing potatoes for now, but it felt like enough of a starter, at least. You’d just planted some tomato seeds that you’d hoped Sho would also find a use for.

Once done harvesting a substantial batch of potatoes, you wrap them up in plastic bags to look like you bought them. It would save you the embarrassment of having to explain that you’d grown them yourself.

It’s pleasantly chilly outside, the still afternoon air heavy with promises of cold weather and a white winter holiday. Dirt remained underneath your fingernails from all that harvesting, but it was a small price to pay. Your heart pounded with anticipation and exertion as you made the trek to Vagastrom, heading for the nearby food truck. As expected, you find Sho sitting on one of his supply boxes, far underdressed for the cold weather. You can’t tell if he’s resistant to it or rebelling against it, but you can tell he’s cold. His cheeks and nose are tinged red and his eyes are squinted against the cold wind. You can even tell he’s sniffling with how often he inhales. You exhale both fondly and exasperatedly. The stubbornness of these ghouls was simultaneously attractive and irritating.

You make it no secret you’re approaching, the bag of potatoes crinkling with your upbeat steps and your own runny nose sniffling in response to the cold wind. You place the bag of potatoes beside him with a heavy ‘thud’, to which he finally looks up, appearing jolted out of his thoughts.

“Here,” you start, taking your scarf from around your neck and tying it around his without waiting for a reaction. “You must be an idiot to sit out in the cold with just your uniform on.”

“Senpai.” He greets you with wide eyes, watching but not protesting as you tie your scarf around his neck. He appears confused at first, his lips pursing at your actions, but seems to relent as he buries his face into the scarf. You watch as he settles into it, his eyes sliding shut against the cold wind, his nose and lips finding warm solace in the comfort of your scarf. Before long, he pulls it away, revealing himself back to the chilly air with a slight wince. “...No need. Thank you, though.” He glances up at you with a smile before rising to his feet and dusting off his knees. “Whatcha got here?” He gestures to the plastic bag before picking it up, far more effortlessly than you, and inspecting it.

“Potatoes.” Your breath puffs out in a white cloud. “They’re for your food truck. I remembered you mentioned you were running low, so… I decided to help and buy you some.” At some point, you’d shifted your attention to the ground, toeing at a rock as you realized how ridiculous that sounded. Surely Sho could handle himself. He might even find your help embarrassing, when you really think about it.

You sneak a glance at him and are relieved to see a small smile on his face as he observes the potatoes. He huffs out a light breath, his face visibly softening. “You didn’t have to do that.” He slings the bag over his shoulder, using his other hand to ruffle your hair and return the scarf. “Come on,” he turns around, headed for the door of the food truck. “You can help me prep.”

‘That’s only helpful if you’ll have any customers in this cold,’ you think to yourself, but decide not to say aloud. Instead, you watch the slow smile on his face as he nods towards you, and continues towards the truck. Crazy, how a simple glance of his could make your heart race. Something about the warmth of his smile, the feel of his fingers carding through your hair, and the leftover scent of his cologne lingering on your scarf tugged at your heart, just a little bit.

You briskly follow after him, throwing the scarf back over his neck. “Keep it,” you say sternly, watching as he turns to you quizzically. “Have you seen the state of yourself in this cold?” The phrase ‘I want you to have it,’ lingers on your tongue, but you decide not to voice that, instead letting a small amused smile rest on your face. You vaguely gesture to him, your gaze flicking to his red cheeks and nose. He rolls his eyes, noting your point, and keeps the scarf around his neck, opening the side door to his food truck.

“Alright, fine. I’ll wash it and return it.”

As he steps inside the food truck, even from standing behind him you feel a wave of warmth. You follow, stepping inside, feeling the sweet relief of pleasant warm air and smelling the scent of roast chicken. The environment is warm and cozy, wrapping around you like a cushy blanket or a hug from a loved one. Sho closes the door behind you and you note your scarf is still around his neck. Something clicks.

“Wait a minute. You won’t need that.” You point to his scarf, your nose crinkling in mock displeasure. He instinctively flinches away, looking at you with a raised brow. He was seemingly already protective of your scarf, even though he’d only just received it. “Hand it over.”

“That’s hardly fair.” A crooked smile forms on Sho’s face and his brow raises higher. “Why do you assume I won’t need it?”

Indignantly, you gesture to the warm space surrounding you. Sizzling meat, a warm oven, and heaters in a corner, adjusting the temperature of the truck. “Vagastrom is literally right next to here. What do you need that for?”

He doesn’t answer directly, instead tilting his head at you. “I seem to remember a certain someone insisting I keep this scarf. Are you going to go back on your word?”

You clamp your mouth shut, remembering what you’d said and did earlier. He was right, you had insisted, even if only a little. You huff out a frustrated breath, crossing your arms and furrowing your brows. He laughs at your display, pulling the scarf off of him and tossing it on a high shelf of boxes you couldn’t reach. “Like I said, I’ll wash it and return it.”

You decide to swallow this loss. You had other scarves at the chapel anyway, and if he was going to use it, at least it wasn’t going to waste.

You look around the space again before taking off your coat and hanging it on one of the hooks on the door. “Any plans for winter break? Will you be going anywhere?”

“Nah.” Sho shook his head, checking on the chicken in the small oven before continuing to stir fry a vegetable medley on the stove, jutting his shoulder out towards the cutting board, covered in various vegetables. You wash your hands before heading over, carefully scraping at the dirt built up under your fingernails from digging. “Unless my… brother… goes, I’m not going. He’ll beat my ass if I don’t and he does.” A look of displeasure crosses Sho’s face, and you have to hold back a laugh at the thought of Professor Hyde chastising Sho for not seeing his family over break.

You head over to the vegetables laid out on the cutting board, and start with the garlic, peeling it out of its husk. “Sounds like a struggle.”

He scoffs, pouring soy sauce over the vegetables and tossing them before scraping them off on a nearby to-go container. “Holidays are always a struggle with pushy family.” Despite his outward scowl, amusement lights up his eyes for a moment.

You chuckle, having finished chopping up the garlic and moving to a green bell pepper. You slice it open, its seeds spilling onto the cutting board. “Your family’s pushy?”

“Yes, too pushy sometimes.” Sho shakes his head, shooing you to the side as he grabs potholders to pull the chicken out of the oven. “My brother’s more like my parents than I am.” He carefully places the roast chicken down on a short counter. It’s golden brown, stuffed with rosemary sprigs, lemon slices, and garlic cloves.

He places it to the side, readying the frying pain and reaching for the peppers you’d chopped, tossing them into the oil. You finish a pepper and reach for a leek next, slicing it into thick chunks. Your eyes flicker back over to the chicken momentarily, rosemary stems sticking out of it like a tail. “The rosemary stems look like a chicken tail.” You voice the thought absentmindedly, smiling to yourself.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Sho glance over at the chicken himself. You hear a huffed laugh as he returns his attention to the peppers, sizzling in the oil. “Yeah, it does.” He’s silent for a moment before speaking up again. “Speaking of, it was hard to find fresh rosemary this time around.”

You look up, having finished cutting the leek. A confused expression crosses your face. “Where in the world would you find fresh rosemary in the dead of winter?” You look away, reaching for a carrot, slicing it thinly.

“Rosemary’s an evergreen,” Sho states flatly, reaching for the leek and garlic you cut earlier, mixing it in with the batch of peppers on the stove and stirring them. “You can find that fresh anytime. What’s harder to find, however…” Sho trails off, leaving the stove for a split second, reaching for the bag of your potatoes he’d placed on the ground earlier. He opens the bag and pulls one out, some dirt still stuck in the indents of its skin. “...Is fresh potatoes. They’re typically harvested in the fall.” He smiles at you, before turning away to rinse it off.

Realizing you’d been caught in a lie, you turn away from him, putting all of your focus on the carrot in front of you. You hear his footsteps slowly approaching before he places a freshly washed potato right in front of you, his hand shaking with mirth.

“Come on, MC. Don’t think I didn’t notice the dirt under your fingernails.” He chuckles before turning back to the stove, stirring the vegetables again. You drop the knife with a clatter and hide your hands behind your back, too nervous to check if you’d missed any spots.

You sneak a glance up at him, mistakenly making eye contact with him. His eyes gleam with amusement and his smile is soft and fond. “...It can’t have been that obvious.” You decide to admit to it, realizing the heat in your cheeks probably gave it away.

“It wasn’t.” Sho nods to you, pouring soy sauce over the stir-fried mixture and tossing it before scraping that off in a different to-go container. “I just happened to notice the dirt when you handed the scarf to me, and your potatoes smelled extra earthy.” He takes the pan off the heat, moving over to the chicken and carefully cutting out the breast.

It’s silent for a few moments, you staring at that freshly cleaned potato and Sho slicing through the chicken, placing the breast in one to-go container and the wings in the other. Sho finally speaks up, though his voice is low. “...You didn’t have to do that, you know.” You look up again, just to find him turned away from you, his ears turning red. Silence falls again as you watch him check off the to-go containers he’s finished. You assume he’s trying to distract himself from the obvious blush on his face, but you can’t say for sure. Something about it makes you feel similar, your heart rate picking up and your face reddening more. It wasn’t due to your embarrassment anymore. “I dunno, I’m bad at thanking people. Just, well…” Sho trails off, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, hiding his face from you. His voice lowers significantly, and contrastingly, the blush on his ears brightens more. “Thank you. I know potatoes take a while to grow. And…” He trails off again and swallows thickly. You don’t bother asking him to finish his sentence. The implications of his words grow somewhat heavy in your heart, and you wring your fingers nervously. Of course it was profound, growing potatoes for someone when you’re doomed to die, now in nine months. The thought of dedicating your time to anything that wasn’t curing your curse was odd, but this distraction had done you well nonetheless. You didn’t want Sho to feel bad about it at all. You were certain that, if anything, the gravity of being recognized by a girl doomed to die was dawning on him.

The words spill out before you can really stop them. “Don’t worry about it, Sho. I did that because I wanted to.” Confessing this was almost as raw as confessing your feelings, and your chest tightens at that thought, but you continue despite that. “You’ve been kind to me since after our first mission. And I’ve enjoyed spending time with you, including things as mundane as meal prep!” You gesture vaguely to the setting before you, hoping to get your point across. “I just randomly had the idea, and figured it couldn’t be so bad to act on it. It’s been a good distraction anyway, and what with all that happens here, a distraction does me some good.” Silence falls once more, and Sho finally turns to look at you, face flushed. He wipes his palms on his apron and worries his lip between his teeth, his gaze flickering between you and the floor. “...So what if I used up three months to grow potatoes? The time will pass anyways.” You turn away from him, looking at the washed potato. You reach for it and pick up the knife, beginning to cut it into cube chunks.

“...I guess you’re right.” You can hear a gentle smile in Sho’s voice, and it warms you up internally, feeling thankful he’s accepted the gift. You glance towards him, giving him a smile, and catch him staring. There’s an odd glimpse of admiration in his eyes, which makes your cheeks warm.

“Go on and finish cutting the chicken.” You wave off his stare and jerk your gaze away from him, hiding your blush and focusing on the cubed potato.

He scoffs and turns away, picking up his knife. “Giving me orders in my own kitchen, huh?”

You don’t respond. You don’t need to. The warmth of the heaters settles into your skin and the warmth of the previous pleasant conversation settles into your heart. You glance down at the bag of potatoes that started it all. The eyes of the potatoes seem to stare up at you knowingly.

You’re carrying a short stack of to-go containers outside to Sho’s bike, Bonnie, your boots crunching the frosty path beneath you. Snow would surely be coming soon. You gently place the stack in the box on the back of Bonnie, careful to make sure none of them tip over. You hear more crunching footsteps and turn around to see Sho, carrying the rest of the boxes. He places them in the box as well and organizes them before securing the box with a few straps. He steps back and exhales, smiling to himself. You can’t help but smile at his pride.

“Now, to deliver these…” Sho approaches Bonnie and gets on, patting her twice affectionately. The gentle thrum of the engine comes to life in response. He looks to you and smiles, and you notice he’s wearing your scarf. “Sure you don’t want a ride back to the chapel?”

You eye the box of food already on the back of Bonnie and shake your head. You wouldn’t test fate today. Your eyes find your scarf again, sitting snugly around Sho’s neck. “Well, at least you have a use for it.” You say, resigned. Part of you wonders if you’ll ever get it back.

Sho smiles, reaching up to touch the scarf. “Again, I’ll wash and return it.” He looks up to the sky, and you follow suit, noting the pale white blanket of clouds blocking the sun. “That said…” He starts, lowering his gaze to you again. “It is cold out. I may need this for longer than I expected.” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice and his smile turns crooked, as though suppressing a smirk.

“...I’m not getting that back, am I?”

Sho shrugs, revving up Bonnie. “Who knows?” He smiles fondly at you one last time before speeding off, the wheels of Bonnie leaving tire tracks on the frosty path. You watch him as he leaves, his hair lifting in the wind, the tendrils of your scarf billowing behind him. You watch until he turns a corner and you can only faintly hear the rumbling of Bonnie’s engine. ‘I guess he really did have customers, even in this cold…’ You think to yourself, a faint smile growing on your face. You inhale the crisp cool air, feeling a bit cooler around your neck now that you’re missing a scarf. You idly look back up at the sky again, wondering if it really would snow today. Despite you enjoying the stillness of the winter air on Darkwick campus, the cold eventually bites at you, urging you to return to the chapel. Your footsteps crunch along the frosted path, following Bonnie’s tracks.

It’s Christmas evening, and things are finally winding down for the day. You’d been to Frostheim and made snow angels with Luca and Kaito, had coffee and played chess with Tohma, and Jin, despite himself, hadn’t asked you to run any errands for him today. You’d been to Vagastrom and exchanged gifts with Alan, tolerated Leo’s selfies with you, and looked around for Sho, but hadn’t found him. You’d been to Jabberwock and fed the animals with Haru, watched a romance movie with Towa, and played a holiday-themed horror game with Ren. You’d been to Sinostra and done some gambling with Taiga while Ritsu tagged along to ensure Sinostra’s reputation wasn’t damaged further, and had a surprisingly pleasant conversation with Romeo despite him saying your large coat made you resemble a slug. You’d been to Hotarubi and had tea and holiday sweets with Haku, Subaru, Zenji, and Lyca, who was visiting Subaru. You’d been to Obscuary and had Rui’s new holiday-themed drinks with Ed, chattering time away at the bar. You’d been to Mortkranken and reluctantly exchanged gifts with Yuri, aware of the fit he’d throw if you hadn’t gotten him anything, and pleasantly exchanged gifts with Jiro, reminding him to take good care of himself.

Finally, after a very long, exhausting, and eventful day, you were back at the chapel, counting the vines growing under your skin, glowing lavender like the flower on the back of your neck. Some small flowers broke your skin and bloomed here and there, leaving the exit wounds somewhat inflamed. Granted, you didn’t have much time left, and these vines made that clear, but this holiday had been much better than you’d expected it to be. You appreciated the effort most of the ghouls put forth to make this holiday at least somewhat enjoyable for you, especially considering it may be your last.

You sit by the fireplace in your room, watching the snow fall from the sky through your window. You had a tiny pine tree near your bed, decorated with handmade tinsel from the three Hotarubi ghouls and some small ornaments from Jin. You wore new pajamas from Romeo, though you weren’t sure how in the world he knew your size. You had a new bracelet from Taiga, who had originally forgotten who he’d gotten it for. On your nightstand lay a dreidel from Kaito and a snow globe from Luca. The hot chocolate you sipped on was a gift from Tohma, and some wine awaited you in your fridge, a gift from the Obscuary ghouls. You had a few new ugly holiday sweaters from various ghouls, Yuri and Ren included, and some not-so-ugly ones, thanks to Haru and Towa. A thick, heavy book about the origins of the laws of Japan sat on a nearby table, a gift from Ritsu that you had no plans to read. You had lit a scented candle from Leo, which you thought was surprisingly thoughtful, and had set aside the wax melts from Alan, planning to use them after the candle ran out. The new watch from Jiro was wrapped around your wrist, displaying the increasingly late time. In all of this, you wondered where your gift from Sho was. You hadn’t been able to spot him today, and the thought made you feel a little down. You’d wanted to spend some time with him today, but guessed he was probably too busy preparing Christmas dinner for all of Vagastrom and Hotarubi that he simply hadn’t had the time. You set your hot chocolate down on top of the accursed thick book and sprawl out in your chair, turning to the window again. Regardless, this had been a surprisingly wonderful holiday. The ghouls had given you gifts and willingly spent time with you, doing various fun activities and filling you with holiday cheer. It was a nice escape from the reality of your situation, even if it was only for a little while.

You check the vines under your skin again, resisting the urge to scratch at where a new white flower had bloomed near your elbow. You could feel that, soon after the holiday season mellowed down, it would be back to reality, and you’d have to face your own death once again. Part of you dreaded the eventual change in weather and in the length of days, knowing your predicted end was growing near. But a part of you was also resigned to it. Regardless of whether you were due to die soon or not, this had been a nice holiday. And you could stand to live in the now, just this once.

You carefully pluck the flower from your skin, wincing at the sharp pain. You bleed for only a few moments before it clots up. At least you could stave off the growth of the curse for now.

You hear a gentle knock at your door. Physically, you’re too exhausted to have much more fun at this point, but mentally, you could use a pick-me-up. You head down your stairs towards the door, opening it crack by crack, trying to prevent too much of the cold wind from slipping inside. You peer through the open doorway, jolting in surprise when a familiar pair of dark blue eyes meet yours.

“Hey,” Sho starts, lifting two boxes in his hands. “Thought you could use a warm holiday dinner.”

Your heart swells and all at once, a wave of emotion hits you. Sure, you didn’t have much time left, but that didn’t stop these ghouls from caring, and that was evident in the gifts piled up in your room, the fun you’d had all throughout the day, and the ghoul now standing at your doorstep, seeking more time with you. There was a reason he was your favorite.

You swing the door open wider, unable to hide the smile that breaks across your face all at once. “I was looking for you, you know.” You cross your arms and narrow your eyes in mock disappointment. “Where’ve you been all day?”

“Cooking.” Sho lifts a brow and shrugs, tilting his head at you. He smiles fondly at you, and you notice he’s finally dressed appropriately for the season; a hat covering most of his hair, a matching coat and gloves keeping him warm, and your scarf, tucked snugly against his neck inside his coat. Yet again, you realize you are probably never getting that scarf back.

“That scarf is still mine.” You gesture at his scarf, and he laughs, reaching up to brush the built up snow off of it.

“And I’m still using it.” He replies, smiling wider. “So… Gonna let me in or what? It’s cold out here.” His breath puffs into white clouds, and you notice his cheeks and nose are tinged red again thanks to the cold. You smile and step aside, letting him in.

You close the door behind him and he shakes off the snow built up on his coat. When he looks at you, his smile holds the warmth of a thousand candles and his voice holds the joy of a thousand holiday carols. “So… got any mistletoe? If not, we can start with gifts. Either works for me.” A blush covers his face as he pushes the boxes towards you, his smile growing wider and fonder.

You figure, regardless of how much time you have left, it wouldn’t hurt to spend a holiday with your favorite ghoul.

Bonus:

The gift, wrapped surprisingly delicately inside one of the boxes, is a knitted scarf in your favorite colors. It’s not bad, but you can tell it was done by a beginner. Holding it in your hands, a small smile grows on your face, and you sigh, totally resigned.

By god, you are never getting that scarf back.

“Well, thank you for your collateral replacement, but I expect that scarf back one day.”

Sho shakes his head, smiling as he chews on your shared meal, packed in the other box he was carrying. “No can do. It’s still cold and I still need a scarf.”

“I’m withholding the mistletoe, then.”

Sho huffs, rolling his eyes and continuing the meal. At his lack of a reaction, you purse your lips, thinking of another thing to withhold that might gift you a victory. Sho speaks, having swallowed his mouthful, “I can find other reasons to kiss you-”

“I’m withholding the potatoes.”

Sho looks at you in shock, dropping his forkful back onto his plate. “...I’ll think about it.”

Maybe you would get that scarf back, after all.

----------

a/n: it's done. finally it is done. finally! i've been writing this romance fic 4 a long while so im glad it is finally done

thank you all so much for reading!! as usual, i love likes, but especially comments, reblogs, and asks detailing how much you enjoyed my work!!! please feel free 2 fill up my inbox with whatever, i love talking 2 u all! but be warned my responses will be slow... im still recovering!

happy holidays 2 you all! i hope, whether you're surrounded by family, friends, or by yourself, that it's a wonderful and fulfilling holiday season 4 u. merry christmas 2 those who celebrate, and happy kwanzaa 2 those who celebrate that as well!! not very well versed in other winter holidays, but may they be joyous and merry!

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pomefioredove · 1 year ago

Note

My brain is kinda sluggish plus I'm indecisive but also i did like several of these (also if i need to divide up this post let me know)

I have no clue which i like best so i simply made a list but let me know if i need to chunk it up

For Riddle Rosehearts

"If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun." Or "I'm putting you on my to-do list."

For Vil Schoenheit

"Don't bite your lip, I want to do that."

For Ruggie

"You like me because I'm a scoundrel."

vil done here!

summary: "if you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun." type of post: short fic characters: riddle additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, maybe ooc, post book 1

You think it's a pretty pathetic sight, but you make no mention of it. Their egos are bruised enough as it is.

"How long?" you ask, sitting across from the shackled duo.

Ace knocks against the solid collar around his neck. "Not long... But we can't present like this,"

You were hoping he wouldn't say that.

And just a day after you told them not to do anything stupid this week, too...

Deuce says nothing; he's been sulking at the end of the table like a puppy with its tail between its legs for the entire lunch period.

"Have you tried reasoning?" you ask. "Maybe he can take them off for the presentation, then put them back on?"

Ace scoffs. "Reason? With Riddle?"

"I thought he was trying to be more lenient?"

"He is," Deuce mutters, hanging his head. "But that just means he only dishes out punishments when someone really deserves it..."

"It was just a stupid painting!" Ace says.

"That we set on fire!"

You look between the two as they bicker over the accident, bewildered by their lack of concern about where this puts you.

Ace and Deuce were supposed to perform the magical component of your defense project, while you and Grim presented. Now...?

You stand. "I'll talk to Riddle,"

Your friends share a pitiful look, but do nothing to stop you as you hurry out of the room.

Surely, Riddle will understand. He wouldn't let you suffer from Ace and Deuce's mistake!

"No," he says.

"But-"

Riddle beheads the wilting flower of a rose with a sharp snap of his shears. It tumbles into the underbrush.

"They destroyed a priceless piece of art. It was hundreds of years old!" he snaps, leaving no room for disagreement. "They should be thankful it's only a week."

He moves on to the next browning rose, inspecting its petals before decapitating it, too.

"But I didn't do anything. I told them not to do anything dumb, I tried to reason with them,"

"Reason? With Ace and Deuce?" he scoffs.

"I would recommend asking for an extension on your assignment until they've carried out their sentence,"

It's too late to ask for another week; he must know that. And you're not giving up so easily.

There must be something you can say...

"But it was an accident,"

Riddle scoffs. "Of course it was. And the rules clearly state that accidental arson of a painting more than three hundred years old must be punished by losing their heads,"

Rules. Great. This is quickly becoming a lost cause.

"There has to be some other way they can be punished," you say. "You said you weren't going to lose your head about these things anymore."

He sighs, rolling his eyes as if frustrated with you. "The rules-"

"Come on, Riddle- If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun!"

Riddle stops. For a moment, it's almost like... he's actually considering your offer.

"...What exactly did you have in mind?"

"This is what you call a compromise?!"

Ace's head of fiery hair pops up, the color a striking contrast against the green of the hedge maze.

You shrug. Riddle, sitting across from you as you watch the two tend to the shrubbery, almost giggles.

"The Prefect has been more than fair. If anything, you should be thanking them for the opportunity to end your punishment early," he says, pouring you another cup of tea.

Ace grumbles, scratching his neck under his collar.

Deuce nudges him, and the two get back to work on trimming the hedges, a puny pair of shears in each hand.

Riddle smiles. "I must say, I'm rather impressed by your persuasion skills. It's not often that I change the terms of a punishment after it's dealt,"

"Well, I didn't want to fail on their account,"

"I heard that!" Ace yells. Riddle grins again.

"Perhaps your ingenuity will inspire them, then," he hums, cupping his tea in his palms.

"In the meantime, I believe another tea party is in order for tomorrow afternoon- they have a lot of ground to cover. Care to join?"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #queued

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muddyorbsblr · 6 months ago

Text

my whole life in a moment

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: pre-dating era; years before the events of 'one look and they'll know'

Summary: Your boyfriend presented you with a challenge to "walk a mile in his shoes"…imagining what life would be like if you weren't in a relationship with him

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader (but not quite yet); OC x Reader (toxic…and soon to be ex)

Word Count: 2.6k

Warning/s: toxic boyfriend with more than questionable loyalty; condescending side characters (hissss); language [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Reader in her sad era

It doesn't mean anything, everyone does it, your boyfriend's words tauntingly echoed in your mind. Right before you two had gone on to attend separate conventions for work, yours in Anaheim, and his somewhere closer to Big Bear, you'd caught a glimpse of his phone, seeing all the pictures of half-naked influencers in the making that he was liking and commenting on like his life depended on it.

And somehow it was your fault that you found out about how he moved around online, "because if you trusted him, you wouldn't even have reason to look". Even if he was the one who just left his phone face up and unlocked for anyone to see.

Joshua even made it seem like you were the "weird one" for admitting that you never have and you never would do that. You would never imagine what life was like with someone else because you were already in a relationship. Loyalty meant something to you, and his actions were borderline maliciously blurring the lines to the point that you had this sinking feeling in your gut.

That one day he'd blur the line so much that he would feign innocence even if he was caught with his whole three and a half inches inside someone else.

Shouldn't the only thing that matters be the fact that no matter what happens, we come home to each other? His words practically had you seething. Of course not. What mattered was that even if you were far apart, you could still manage to feel secure enough in the relationship that he would never do anything that might betray your trust.

He presented you with a challenge for this weekend, to try it out, even if just to yourself. You didn't have to talk to anyone, like anyone's posts, you just had to imagine. To just meet eyes with a random stranger and imagine what life with them would be like, how the story would play out.

To walk a mile in his shoes, he said. Which bothered you more than you cared to admit. How many lives did he already envision with other people? How many times did he look at some random stranger, or God help you, someone you already knew, and fantasized about how life would be if he were with her instead of you?

"Iced americano for Y/N!" the barista called from the counter. You had to resist the urge to roll your eyes at the way he shamelessly checked you out. "Pretty girl like you, you're probably here for the Marvel thing upstairs? Let me guess, you got the hots for a certain blond super soldier? Or maybe a blond god?"

You gave him a tight-lipped smile…or maybe it was a grimace. "Yeah no…I'm actually here for the convention next to theirs."

Joshua's challenge began to rear its ugly head in your mind again, almost daring you to assess the leering man and what life would be like if you entertained his cheesy quips. Of course, all those thoughts were shot down immediately after he opened his mouth a second time, snorting before letting out a condescending laugh.

"The stuffy nerd assembly? What, you got a thing for rickety old men with pocket protectors talking about loop-the-loops and conditioners?"

Wouldn't even get past the first date. I'll happily waste a glass of Balkan and pour it on his pants and light the fucker on fire. But then of course I'd get arrested, probably assault, possibly attempted murder. Not worth it, you thought to yourself. Damn I hate this game already.

You gave him an equally condescending smile, shifting your stance to one you were much too familiar with, having to stand up straight and square your shoulders so that the men with over-inflated egos would actually shut up and listen to what you had to say. "I'm guessing you were a jock in high school…a popular one. Maybe even Prom King. Best four years of your life?"

His smile immediately dropped, looking like you injected pure ice into his veins. Good. "H--How--?"

"You're too easy to read," you said dismissively. "For the record, it's loops and conditions. If you're gonna make fun of an entire profession, at least get the words right so you don't look too much like an idiot when words come out of your mouth. And also, I'm one of the stuffy rickety old bats presenting in the 'nerd assembly'. Have a day."

You walked away from the coffee kiosk shaking your head in disbelief. You couldn't fathom how visibly unremarkable people found the sheer audacity to pass judgment the way they did. Especially to people who worked in the very industry that was steadily taking over the world.

The very websites these people used to poke fun at people they deemed lesser to them were quite literally built by the nerds they were talking down about. With the way the world was advancing, it wouldn't be long before scams started popping up left and right that would drain people like Mr Glory Days back there of every cent of his life savings.

Hell, with the skills you had, it would just be a few keystrokes away.

You decided against playing the challenge on passing strangers, considering that the glimpses that you were getting from your two to five second eye contact with them already unsettled you.

Two dates maximum, then he'd lock eyes with someone prettier and way out of his league and stop replying to texts. Not worth it.

Clingy, mama's boy that probably wants me to quit my job and my career and all my hobbies so my life revolves around morphing into some sexualized version of his mother. Definitely not worth it.

Would beg me not even six weeks into dating to try anal, and leave me on Week 7 for his male best friend. Week 8 if I peg him. For sure not fucking worth it.

All of them led to you internally yelling "absolutely not" in the solace of your mind, and ultimately opting out of the game altogether. It was steadily turning you into a cynic, and that was the last thing you needed to be considering how you chose to spend your free time.

If you kept at this path, the next time some random actor or musician or public figure reached out to you in the dark recesses of the internet begging you to keep their debauchery secret and protect them from the scrutiny of the public eye, you might just choose to leak it yourself. That particular part of your life needed you to hold on to compassion. Needed you to remember that just because some people chose to be extra freaky behind closed doors, it didn't necessarily make them deserving of being exposed.

The only time you needed to step in was when they were actively doing harm.

So instead of the strangers passing you by, you turned the challenge on its head, in Joshua's direction. With what you knew about him, how would your life play out?

You had just moved in with him last month, although most of your belongings still remained packed in boxes because he couldn't find space in "his place" yet for some of your "girly shit". He set aside about half of one of his dresser drawers for your clothes and your instincts told you it was wise to keep a police baton there for easy access.

Just in case he'd come home a little too drunk, a little too disorderly, and a little too wishy washy on consent.

The near incendiary conversation that you two had just before you parted ways on your separate conventions served as the largest red flag that you weren't in the right place. It wasn't just the likes and the comments to the bikini-clad women, it was the text message notification that popped up before he could swipe the phone off the desk and guilt trip you into apologizing for "snooping".

It was from Tracy, one of your coworkers that was assigned to the same convention as him. I can't wait to see you later! x

Seemed innocent enough, if you hadn't known for a fact that she'd been putting the moves on him for the last few months. If you hadn't glanced upon his desk at just the right second while they were talking and you saw her hand on his leg.

His words played back in your mind again. Shouldn't the only thing that matters be the fact that no matter what happens, we come home to each other? If that was his mentality, then perhaps you had every reason to be suspicious about the times when he wasn't home.

And right in those thirty seconds that you placed your relationship under that big of a microscope, the conclusion made itself crystal clear. "I have to leave him. He's gonna betray me and I have to leave him," you said with a defeated sigh.

At least I haven't unpacked yet, you quipped at yourself. You decided to go into the large function room that was booked for your event, carving out a few minutes to make sure that your resume was in order. That was the next logical step, leaving the company. Working with him wasn't going to be an option; you knew he would twist everything to make it seem like you were belligerent and someway somehow the downfall of your relationship fell squarely on your shoulders.

And people would believe him. Why wouldn't they? He put in insurmountable amounts of effort -- not to mention money -- to shower everyone in praises and gifts and free coffees to make sure they remembered him when promotion season rolled around. He was the self-proclaimed king of small talk, and you preferred silence over menial conversation.

Of course you would have to leave the company, too. Your self-respect all but demanded it.

You pulled out your little flashcards once you finished your coffee, mentally going over your points and anticipating any jabs from Nick that might throw you off. He was the unfortunate soul that was assigned with you, and he seemed hellbent on making sure you "knew your place" being one of the younger developers on the team.

As if it was age that had anything to do with experience.

It was in having your head buried nose-deep in the cards that had you violently bumping into someone walking straight into you, knocking the cards out of your hand and nearly making you fall off balance.

"I'm sorry I wasn't looking--" you sputtered, already moving to pick up your cards.

You didn't expect for the other person to crouch down with you and lend a helping hand. "Neither was I, luv, I apologize."

Good God, what a voice, your inner whore was practically moaning in your head. That voice turned into an all out scream when you looked up and realized who you bumped into. No one could scroll on any website the last few months without his face popping up on the page at least three times in five minutes.

The knowledge that the actor actually dyed his fucking hair and now the sharp angles of his face were even more prominent being framed by the onyx curls nearly took you out. And then he looked at you, stormy blue eyes widening just the slightest as he took your own features in and you could hear his breath hitch.

"I'm terribly sorry," he said again, offering his hand to you once he stood to his feet.

Once you placed your hand in his, you could feel sparks spreading up your arm, and then quickly through the rest of your body. You couldn't help but keep his gaze with how there was this tenderness in his eyes, only breaking when he looked down to place your cards back in your hand.

"You're speaking in the convention next door, I see?"

"I uhh…" Dammit Y/N, pick your panties off the floor and use your big girl voice, you're embarrassing yourself. "I am," you told him. You couldn't fight the urge to smile, even if part of you was still bracing yourself for a reaction similar to Mr Glory Days earlier.

"Fascinating, perhaps if there are still some available seats I could stop by."

Your eyes nearly bugged out your head. "Really?" you blurted out. "You don't think they're boring and stuffy?"

He didn't miss a beat in telling you, "Not when they're facilitated by interesting people. It's always rather enlightening to get to see intelligent people in their element." He placed his hand over yours, holding them for just a moment before stepping away, as if he had to break himself out of his own thoughts. "Well erm…best of luck with your speech."

Play the game, your inner whore taunted you. Come on, it's the hot actor from Avengers, play the fucking game. You're never gonna cross paths with him again.

"You, too. Good luck, I mean. I mean you'll do great, of course you will, y'all have so much training for this--" You bit your tongue, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "I mean, thank you."

Come on, Hiddles, your pessimistic side reared its ugly head. Give me a red flag, I can't be swooning over you and your stupidly pretty face, seriously what the fuck that face with that voice shouldn't be legal.

A moment passed, and another, before his eyes flickered for a fraction of a second to your lips. But never lower. He took another step back once he broke eye contact, letting out a nervous chuckle. "I'm Tom, by the way."

"I know." The words burst out of you like you had zero filter left between your brain and your mouth. "I mean, I'm--"

"Dammit, Y/L/N, now how did I know you're dawdling about out here trying to score with an actor?" The shrill sound of Nick's ornery voice broke the moment. "Your generation really doesn't know the first damn thing about being a professional, huh."

You took a breath, clutching your cards to refrain from reaching in your bag and giving in to an intrusive thought of stabbing your coworker with a dull pencil. When you looked back at Tom, he was slowly taking a few steps backwards, pointing to the much larger hall room of the convention center. "I'm this way."

"That way," you shot back, jabbing your thumb in the opposite direction. You'd given each other an awkward wave goodbye before you finally turned and walked toward the comparatively quieter room.

Play the game, that whorish inner voice pleaded. You know you want to.

The images you allowed yourself to indulge in painted a decadent future. Picturesque date nights balanced with perfectly blissful quiet nights in. Constantly checking in on you when you were in social gatherings to make sure you were still doing alright. Goodnight and good morning and "just because" calls throughout the days, especially when you were apart.

And sweet mercy, the sex would have probably been something out of the filthiest books you'd ever read. You knew what stories about him were floating around in the forums. No stone unturned, no corner unchristened.

And he sure as shit would be packing more than three and a half inches, the voice finished off. Conclusion? Absolutely would have been fucking worth it. Now look back and see if you can check out his butt.

You decided to indulge the voice one last time, looking over your shoulder to see if you could still make him out among the crowd. And when you found him, your heart jumped straight to your throat, rendering you speechless.

Because he was looking back at you, too.

A/N: Who's gonna tell these flirty babies that they reunite again in a few years and get married? 🥹👀 Also I've been thinking on what Reader's backstory before crossing paths again with Tom at the set of Ragnarok would be, and so some of the bits that I'll write for the series will be Reader-centric, kind of building on her character and touching on the ways she was constantly going "Yeah no way I get with someone like him" only to end up with Tom at the end of her sad meow meow era 💖

Also…Tom's basically the only male character in here that I didn't want to pummel with a baseball bat, and I can confirm that I have had "men" in my life that treated me the way Joshua treats Reader, scoffed at me the way Mr Glory Days barista did, and belittle me the way Nick the coworker did. It's been a rough 8 years 🤪

Ooh, also this is the song that inspired this story:

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie

@superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist @alexakeyloveloki @lulubelle814 @jaidenhawke

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston imagine #one look & they'll know #muddyorbs writes

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xstrawberryshiftsx · 1 month ago

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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ 𝘚𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘉𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘺 ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

my Cherry Bomb band dr <3

Based of this amazing post by @eddieisashifter

𝑵𝑶𝑾 𝑷𝑳𝑨𝒀𝑰𝑵𝑮: Green Light, Lorde

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Fate is a fuckwit.

It hangs over you waiting to strike and ruin your life, Seven himself is a victim to it. How else would you explain it? He wish he could call it a coincidence-say that it didn't matter and it couldn't wouldn't change anything.

But Seven isn't stupid enough to think that, no...he isn't and now he's standing face to face with the women who single handedly ruined his life

Berry.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

I do my makeup in somebody else's car...

....we order different drinks at the same bar

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Berry always had thought of fate as rather romantic. The thought of being tied to someone, having a twin flame and being destined for a singular person? very poetic.

But then Seven happened...he left, never telling her why he wanted to call it off. She assumed it was because of the 'vote' but she voted no, she was on his side!

but that didn't matter anymore...they where done and she's totally over him...Totally

That was of course until she saw him, for the first time in three years

there he was leaning against a wall with a beer in his hands, his thick hair held back by his signature red bandanna...staring at her

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

I know about what you did and I want to scream the truth...

...She thinks you love the beach your such a damn liar

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Shit-she had seen him...fuck fuck fuck. he didn't want this-Seven was finally getting better, he does NOT need Berry back in his life...no matter how he used to think of her

they.were.done.

He had to admit though...she looked good. She had cut her normally mid length hair into a messy shoulder length bob, she wore an almost comically short lace red dress paired with a leather jacket and a pack of cigarettes.

when did she take up smoking?

no it didn't matter-he shouldn't get into her business...they where done. for good, and nothing will change that.

wait-is she walking towards him?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Those great whites, they have big teeth

Hope they bite you

Thought you said that you would always be in love

But you're not in love no more

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Berry deserves answer, he just left how out of nowhere?!?! he never explained-just blocked her and moved on. rather rude in her expert opinion.

Maybe this is a bad idea-no! no, she needs closure...she just wants to talk one last time

...

"Seven? Listen can we talk-" Berry freezes, how can she keep talking when he's looking at her like that? the hate in his eyes IS very clear and even Berry (famously known for her yapping) is shocked into silence.

"Why the hell are you here" the harshness of his voice makes her wince, where did it all go wrong? what happened?

"what do you mean why am I here? I got selected into BOTB-I'm assuming you did too-"

"Yeah-I did and..." He paused, his eyes narrowed slightly, an emotion Berry couldn't figure out flashed across his face

"-...I think its better off for both of us that we pretend that neither of us exists alright? I can't deal with you anymore Berry"

no no no, this wasn't meant to go like this-can't they have on civil conversation? what does 'I can't deal with you' even mean?? they haven't seen each in ages and this is what he says?

Seven flinches recognizing the hurt in her eyes, a slither of regret tracing his features

"Shit-sorry, thats not what I meant! it's just...lets just stay away from eachother okay?"

and so he walked away...leaving Berry again for the second time-with nothing but more confusion and more lingering feelings even she couldn't figure out.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

...Did it frighten youHow we kissed when we danced on the light up floor? On the light up floor...

Thank you!!!!

@deepinthegroves @shiftingwithmars @kelpietheshifter

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koolades-world · 1 year ago

Text

Spellbound Secrets

prologue: calm before the storm

synopsis: The House of Lamentation caught fire one night, and you were the only one they recovered from the wreckage. The brothers were in the house as well when you went to bed that night, but they were nowhere to be found. The pact marks are faded, and seem to be getting more and more indefinite by the day. You and Solomon get to investigating but oddly enough, nobody can seem to remember the missing brothers. It’s up to you, with the help of Solomon, to find your beloved demons, lest you never see them again.

navigation: playlist | prologue (you are here!) | chapter one (coming next saturday)

authors note: this was postponed because a roach haha, but! it’s finally here and I’m excited to share the product of my hard work with you all! what do we think of the banner? made it myself! i think it’s nice but I’ll probably hate it in a couple of years haha. please do check out the playlist i made too. more explanation will be made on the post about it :) special thanks to @aaliyahxxvi and @rcbsbb for beta reading each and every chapter for me, as well as being awesome friends <3

While your several years of living in the Devildom came with its challenges, you wouldn't trade it for anything. It was hard to adjust to, and it felt like every day came with a new hurtle for you to overcome. From almost having your soul stolen, to almost failing several classes, to almost dying, you'd seen it all. But, every time, the key word was almost. You always made it out relatively unscathed, to the point where it was a running joke between you and the brothers, some more so than others. (Lucifer didn't find it very funny.)

You really couldn't ask for more. Despite how things seemed early on in your stay, you'd really begun to enjoy everything about the life you hadn't expected, no less asked for. There was so much about living you truly looked forward to now.

Every morning, you knew to expect Mammon either in your room already because he spent the night over, or barging in as soon as he was awake so you could get ready together. More often than not, in the middle of getting ready, Asmo would burst into the room and ask your opinion on what to wear that day. He and Mammon would bicker and if you didn't end the fighting, they'd disperse on their own once they realized you'd walked off. Lucifer wasn't a morning demon, which took you longer to learn that you'd thought, still took the time out of his morning to brew you a cup of coffee.

Every afternoon, you enjoyed a tea with Satan while you read or did some homework together. Sometimes, you didn't say a single word to each other, but just being together was comforting enough. Then, you'd spent a while with Levi, playing whatever game he'd selected for that day. If it was a game you couldn't play together, you'd happily talk about your day while the other played the game. Finally, once it started to get later in the day and the Devildom began to cool down, you accompanied Beel on his second workout of the day. After a long day, you snuggled with Belphie and unwound. As much as he protested about it, he made a great pillow.

You always had a movie night at least once a week which everyone was required to attend; the brothers didn't have it in them to say no. More often than not, the members of Purgatory Hall and the Demon Lord's Castle (if Barbatos permitted it) came over to join you. It was just a fun excuse to get together and enjoy each other's company.

The routine was comforting, to say the least. You'd all grown into it. You felt safe, and content.

That night had started and ended just like any other. It had been Asmo's turn to cook dinner, and as part of a deal the two of you had made together, he'd agreed to make your favorite. In exchange, he made you promise to reserve one evening just for him. Lingering in the kitchen while he cooked was one of your favorite pastimes.

That night, you were almost certain you feel asleep with three demons in your room. Mammon had claimed your right side, as he usually did, which left your other side up for grabs. Satan laid on your left with a book in hand, one you recognized as one you'd gotten together in the human world, and a little reading light. Levi was at the end of the bed, on his Devilswitch. You and Mammon had briefly argued over the remote, but in the end, you selected what you watched even though he had the remote. You chided Satan for having the light on, to which he apologized for and tried his best to keep it out of your eyes. He didn't move though, because he wasn't willing to give up his spot. Levi didn't cause too much of a disturbance, only the occasional exclamations about whatever he was playing.

It wasn't anything out of the ordinary: how things should be. You looked forward to tomorrow. You could already picture what the next day held. You had plans with Satan to head to a new bookstore at the edge of town, and Beel wanted to go on an evening hike and picnic in a nearby park, to which you weren't going to refuse.

If only things were to play out as you imagined.

You weren't sure exactly what time it was when you woke up, but it was blistering, and you couldn't identify a reason why. Your sheets were dangling off the bed, likely the doing of Mammon. You fan was at the highest speed, but it actually only seemed to be making the heat worse. Even stranger was the fact that not a single one of the demons you'd fallen asleep with at your side was present. Not Satan, not Levi, and even not Mammon. In your sleepy stupor, you peeled off the fluffy jacket you were wearing in an attempt to cool off, leaving you in a thinner undershirt. As you plodded around the room, you saw they were nowhere in sight. Their belongings were scattered about, as if they were only going to be gone for a short amount of time and might be back any minute.

Perhaps you might've gone back to bed if you didn't hear the sound of a voice you thought you recognized through the door, accompanied by a muffled roaring. The doorknob burned to the touch, waking you up fully. You wrung out your hand and hissed, cradling it close to your body. It would surely result in a burn later, but for now, that was the least of your concern. The smell of smoke flooded your senses. The was a fire happening in the House of Lamentation, and you were trapped in your room with no way out.

You retreated back to your bed, ripping it apart in search of your D.D.D. Once you found it, you struggled to dial the Devildom equivalent of 911. Thankfully, the call went through and if nobody else had already made a call, they would be on their way.

"666, what is the address of your emergency?" The operator on the other end of the line spoke calmly and clearly.

"The House of Lamentation. The big, haunted creepy house. On Hollow Avenue. I think my house is on fire. I'm trapped in my bedroom." You kept your voice as even as you could so she could understand you.

"The fire department is on their way, sweetie. Are there any other exits?" You could hear the sound of the operator typing.

"No. The only way out is my door, and I burnt my hand on the doorknob. I know you're not supposed to open the door." You weren't sure when you had begun to shake, and struggled to hold the phone up to your ear.

"Alright, put a towel underneath the door to block smoke. Stay low to the ground if you can. What floor are you on?" You could hear the information you were giving to the operator being relayed to others. Doing as she asked, you threw open your closet door and shoved as many towels as you could between the door and the floor.

"First. I'm on the first floor. First floor. I'm not the only one who lives here though. They might be trapped too. I heard someone else before." You thought you heard someone yelling when you'd first approached the door, but you became quickly preoccupied with your own matters. You wished you hadn't.

"Don't panic. Someone is coming to rescue you. I'll stay on the line with you, alright?" She reassured you.

"Thank you." There was a slight pause in your conversation, so you continued to speak. "What's going to happen if they can't get to me in time?" A sort of morbid curiosity crossed your mind. You didn't want to find out, but the thought lingered.

"You're all going to be alright. Talk to me. What's your name?" You didn't know much about the tactics of dispatchers, but maybe she was trying to keep you calm.

"Mc. I'm Mc. I'm one of the human exchange students." You stumbled over your own name. You had no clue what to do besides answer her questions. You felt useless just standing in one spot, but were rooted there.

"How many other people are in the house?" She remained calm, and you took a deep breath, so you could continue to answer her questions. You could feel the panic creeping in and begin envelop you, not unlike the smoke you were trying to block out.

"There should be seven others. A family. I don't know where they are. They were in my room, but they're gone." She probably already knew who the brothers were, and who you were, but you couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of your mouth.

"What are you wearing?" She asked you.

"It's really hot in here, miss." You were quickly growing lightheaded, and drenched in sweat.

"I know. I'm sorry. What are you wearing?" She repeated herself.

"Um, a white tank top and some blue checkered pajama pants." Neither article of clothing belonged to you. The pants were Lucifer's and the tank top you'd stolen from Mammon. It was the one thing about the situation that managed to get you to think a little more positively.

"What's the charge on your device, Mc?" Her using your name shocked you a little. It took you a second to realize you'd just given her your name, which is how she knew.

"It's getting low." Because of the brothers staying over in your room, you never had the chance to plug it in before you went to sleep. Mammon had told you he would do it, but it seems you'd both forgotten.

"What percent?" She asked.

"Twenty-nine." You hoped the battery would last long enough.

"Don't hang up. Help will be there shortly." You tried to respond, but it felt as if all the breath had been knocked out of you. You felt as if your legs were going to give way, so you took a seat on the edge of your bed.

"Miss, I don't feel good." Sweat rolled down your forehead and would've gone into your eyes if you didn't swipe it away, which was growing more and more difficult by the second. The heat was agonizing and you almost felt like you were melting.

"Keep talking to me. How old are you?" When you didn't respond, the operator prompted you again. "Mc? Are you still there?"

You tried to continue to speak to her, but you couldn't form the words you wanted to. Nothing came out correctly. She continued to speak to you, but you just wanted to lay down. She grew quieter the more time passed. The room had started spinning at some point. The urge to close your eyes grew stronger and stronger, so you told yourself just a moment wouldn't hurt.

The next thing you remembered was waking up in what had to be a hospital room. You didn't recognize anything in the room, and everything was unusually bright. Whoever had last been in your room had tucked you in carefully in your hospital bed. You could see from your chest down, but your arms were sitting on to of the covers. An IV drip was in your left arm, and from the elbow down, your right arm was wrapped in bandages. The TV in the room was on to your favorite Devildom cooking channel. It was an episode you'd seen before, so you didn't bother to focus on it. Besides the sound of the television you could hear hushed whispering and shuffling from the hallway, and the constant beeping of the machine connected to you.

As you were taking in your surroundings, the door just out of your line of sight opened. You expected it to be one of the brothers, or a nurse maybe, but it was Solomon. It was nice to see a familiar face regardless of who it belonged to.

"Mc! You're awake. I'll call the nurse." With a smile befitting of the gods, he moved to leave the room again.

"Wait, please." He paused with his hand on the doorknob. "What happened?" Solomon backtracked and pulled up a chair to sit beside your bed. You stared at him expectantly, as he thought about, presumably, what to say next.

"The House of Lamentation caught on fire, but thankfully, you were alright. You got some burns but the doctor says it could've been much worse. You've been out for about a day now. How much do you remember?" He flexed his fingers.

"Not much, but I think that's a good thing. How are the brothers? I hope they're doing well." You expected Solomon to just answer the question, but instead, he cocked an eyebrow.

"What are you talking about?" At first, you just assumed he was kidding, but this was an odd thing to be joking about.

"You know, the seven brothers? They're the avatars of sin? They should've been in the house. Are they fine or did they get hurt in the fire too?" When he only stared at you blankly, you didn't know how to react. "You're scaring me, Solomon. This isn't funny." You thought back over what you'd said. It all made sense in your head, but something just wasn't clicking for Solomon.

"Who are 'the brothers?'"

#spellbound secrets #prologue #gn reader #obey me!#obey me #obey me solomon #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date #obey me! shall we date?

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khaylin27 · 1 year ago

Text

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

pairing: lewis hamilton x popstar! reader

series: the tortured poets department

synopsis: popstar y/n l/n performs for the first time after her and lewis hamilton split due to 'differences'

warnings: not proofread 🙃 but none

author's note: IM SO SORRY I HAVEN'T POSTED IN A WHILE 😭 I've been dealing with my physical and mental health the past couple of months that I haven't been motivated to write. I've also been busy with college because I'm almost done. Hope y'all enjoy this!

I can read your mind

"She's having the time of her life"

There in her glittering prime

The lights refract sequined stars off her silhouette every night

I can show you lies (one, two, three, four)

yn_nation The lights refract sequined stars off her silhouette every night #WarsawYNTheErasTour 🩷✨See you in less than a fortnight! 🤍 #LondonYNTheErasTour

user1 THE QUEEN IS BACK IN LONDON OMG

user2 you know who also is from London 👀

user3 you think lewis would still go to her show even though they broke up? user4 we can only hope 😭🙏

'Cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle it

They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and I did

Lights, camera, and smile, even when you wanna die

He said he'd love me all his life

It was the first of many nights performing in London. London meant so much to you. You and Lewis fell in love and made a whole life here. You really thought he was the one after six years of being together. It wasn't until Lewis decided to break up explaining that there were 'differences' in your relationship.

"I can't do this guys." You were having a breakdown in your changing room before the show. Oscar's wife and Alexandra were in the room trying to calm you down before the show.

Alexandra soothes you while you cry and Oscar's wife had enough of it. It was probably due to the pregnancy hormones. "I love you Y/N but I know you're a real tough kid, you can handle it."

You wipe your tears and look up at her, "When I went through everything with Carlos you told me 'babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it' and that's what I did. I never got to thank you back then but I do now." Oscar's wife smiles thinking about the time Y/N encouraged her to go watch Lando race after the whole failed wedding with Carlos. If Oscar's wife didn't listen to Y/N back then she wouldn't have met Oscar and become his wife.

"Now I'm going to do the same for you. You can handle this Y/N, I've seen you through worse." Throughout your music career, many people have tried to ruin your reputation. "I know Lewis said he'd love you all his life but that's over now. Of course, it's a lot to go through but there are millions of people out there that love you."

Your conversation was interrupted by Charles and Oscar. They could see you three were going through an emotional situation. "Uhm the lady with the headset is yelling at us to tell you it's almost show time," Oscar says as quickly as possible then closes the door.

The three of you laugh at the awkward Australian, "That's my husband." Oscar's wife says with a smile.

"You can do this Y/N," Alexandra smiles as well.

As you three stand up, you give a hug to the both of them. "Thank you guys for being here. I don't know what I would do without you." You smile and pull away. "It's time to get on stage."

"We believe in you Y/N," Alexandra says before you leave to stand on the elevating platform.

You take deep breaths before the platform elevates to the main stage. As it's elevating you tell yourself, "Lights, camera, and smile. Even if you wanna die."

But that life was too short

Breaking down, I hit the floor

All the pieces of me shattered as the crowd was chanting, "More"

It was that segment of the concert where you would perform surprise songs to the audience.

"For one of my surprise songs tonight, I just wanted to share the story behind what I'm about to play next." You say starting to play the piano.

"London is a city I'll always love. I met the love of my life or so I thought." You were trying to hold back tears from the crowd. "That life was too short though." You smile through the tears. "I hope you like this song."

"But do you remember? Remember when I pulled up and said 'Get in the car' and then canceled my plans just in case you'd call?" You remember the times you would wait outside of Mercedes headquarters in your car to ask Lewis to spend time with you. But he didn't want to. You would cancel plans frequently just in case Lewis called. "Back when I was livin' for the hope of it all, for the hope of it all. 'Meet me behind the mall."

"So much for summer love and saying 'us.' Cause you weren't mine to lose." You were breaking down in tears singing this song. Remembering all the pieces of your relationship with Lewis shattered because there were 'differences' in your relationship.

As you continue playing the chords to August while crying, the crowd is chanting "More!"

I was grinnin' like I'm winnin'

I was hittin' my marks

'Cause I can do it with a broken heart

You looked up and grinned at the crowd. You realized that even though you lost the love of your life, it didn't matter anymore. Tons of people loved you for who you are. You were winning in life no matter what.

"It's new, the shape of your body. It's blue, the feeling I've got and it's ooh, whoa, oh. It's a Cruel Summer." The crowd goes wild at the mashup with August and Cruel Summer.

While you were hittin' all the marks to the song you realize that you could do it with a broken heart.

I'm so depressed, I act like it's my birthday every day

yn_nation #LondonYNTheErasTour I'm so depressed, I act like it's my birthday every day! 🩶 Y/N is back for five more dazzling #YNTheErasTour nights! 🤩

user1 SHE REALLY CAN DO IT WITH A BROKEN HEART

user2 it's amazing how y/n can put on a show every night while dealing with a breakup

user3 god chooses his strongest soldiers for battle 🫡

user4 did y'all see that the whole f1 grid + wags were at the show tonight? also, did you see LEWIS HAMILTON there too?

user6 WHAT!? user7 I wonder how that's going to turn out.

I'm so obsessed with him, but he avoids me like the plague

It was the F1 summer break and you decided to invite the whole grid to your last show in London. You were still close to the drivers and their wags to this day so they all said yes. What you didn't expect was your ex-boyfriend being here.

Everyone came to your room to greet you before the show started. It was almost time to start the concert but you were hoping Lewis would come by to say hi to you. You were still obsessed with him. Like Gwen Stefani said 'I'm just a girl."

"Did he come in here?" George's fiancé asks you. She knew the answer when you didn't respond.

"He's avoiding you like the plague." George scoffs and his fiancé turns around to side eye him for that comment.

You laugh at the couple for being themselves. "I really needed this laugh." You say as you get up from your chair. "I'm ready now."

Before you leave the room, you give George and his fiancé a hug. "Thanks for being here. I love and appreciate you two."

I cry a lot, but I am so productive, it's an art

"Hasn't it been an amazing week London!?" You smile as the crowd cheers for you. "It was for you guys but it was a rollercoaster of emotions for me." You laugh at your little joke. "You guys have probably seen me cry a lot the past couple of days, but I am so productive!" The crowd laughs and cheers. "It's an art!"

You start playing the piano, "I just want to say a special thank you to this city. It's a city I love so much. It has a lot of good and bad memories but you guys overrule those bad memories."

As the crowd cheers you start to explain your surprise song, "To conclude the last night of the London Eras Tour, I want to play a song or two for you guys. It might be sad at first like how I was at the beginning of the week but it gets light-hearted at the end."

You start playing the melody to So Long, London, and the whole crowd cheers. "I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist. I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift. Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away."

"My spine split from carrying us up the hill. Wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill. I stopped trying to make him laugh. Stopped trying to drill the safe." You watch the crowd and the grid sing along.

"Thinkin', how much sad did you think I had. Did you think I had in me? Oh, the tragedy." You look at the VIP tent and see Lewis. "So Long, London. You'll find someone."

The melody on the piano transitions to London Boy and the crowd goes wild. "Who enjoys walking Camden Market in the afternoon. You'll love her American smile. Like a child when your eyes meet, darling, I fancied you."

"Take her back to Highgate, she'll meet all of your best mates. So I guess all the rumors are true. You know I loved a London boy. But I'll say so long to you." As the melody fades out, the crowds cheer. You smile back at them and then look back at Lewis.

Saying so long to Lewis is hard but having the support of friends and fans made you realize that they were all you needed.

You know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart

yn_nation SO LONG, LONDON #LondonYNTheErasTour it's been an amazing week here in London. Thank you so much London fans for the good memories 🥹🤍✨

user1 you know you're good when you can PERFORM FOR A WHOLE WEEK IN FRONT OF A CROWD with a broken heart 😭

user2 the so long, london x london boy mashup 😭💔 it was basically a goodbye letter to lewis

user3 lewis was there too 🥲

tagged: @omgsuperstarg @splaterparty0-0 @2pagenumb @c-losur3

#f1 #taylor swift #the tortured poets department #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #mercedes amg petronas #lh44 #lh44 x reader #lh44 imagine #team lh44

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genderqueerdykes · 8 months ago

Note

*deep breath* Okay. I am going to be a mature adult and not let my feelings rule me.

I'm sorry for lashing back at you, that was tactless.

I just really feel like allies only exist in privileged spaces, mostly because I live in blood-red Oklahoma. I am fortunate enough not to live in a more rural area, but I have been rejected from jobs on no other basis than me being trans and I can't really do anything about that because, apparently, we are no longer recognized by state law. I watched the news about Nex Benedict last year and it has affected the way I act ever since. I'm terrified that yeah, that absolutely could be me next. That could be anyone I know next. I have never seen a single cishet adult actively stand up for the trans community. In fact, quite the opposite.

All of my friends (which is like three people) are queer. Two of them are transmasc like me, and the third is genderfluid. All of us have horrible, unsupportive parents.

The only adults I've ever met who stood up for the trans community was a t4t straight couple at Starbucks. That's it.

I'm almost certainly going to have to drop out next year and get my GED- or at least re-enroll in a different school- because of how bad it is here. I absolutely would not be surprised if Oklahoma becomes a Do Not Travel state soon. Especially under Trump and the GOP. I'm scared. My life could potentially be on the line.

oh god, i am so sorry you're in oklahoma of all places, my heart goes out to you. that is a seriously dangerous place to be as a queer person. i think it's fine to be skeptical about queer allies existing in these kinds of situations. like being skeptical vs. outright denying something exists are two different experiences, and credit where credit is due- i would be skeptical too, in your shoes. i didn't articulate that well at *all* so i would like to apologize, because i can see why that point wouldn't come across

this is like. an absolutely insane coincidence, i'm not pulling your leg, but the queer ally librarian in her 60s i mentioned in my last post? she actually just moved back to oklahoma, that's where she was from originally. if you end up needing any resources in your area, i can try to ask her to see if there's anything she would be able to find for you, either in terms of helping you find community, advocacy groups, safe places to go, or whatever it may be. that is an insane coincidence but i just thought i'd mention that because even if you live in a different part of OK, her being a librarian, she might still be able to help

it's definitely okay to be scared. like forreal, i don't want people to think they just have to stop being scared of queerphobia just because cishet allies exist. you could be in an entire community of queer allies and still find a dangerous queerphobic asshole. the mere existence of queer allies does not offset the damage queerphobes do, nor does it inherently make up for queerphobic society existing in the first place. you don't have to tell yourself to suck it up, especially given the times we're in right now

i hate that people are actually having to relocate and consider relocating right now. like as if it weren't bad enough, now we have something very frightening on the horizon. none of us know what will happen, and that uncertainty is horrifying. you have no way to know how to prepare yourself for anything that may come your way.

i want you to know that i really appreciate this message, and that i don't think you have to just suck it up and pretend things are fine just because queer allies exist. you are allowed to be skeptical, and scared. you are allowed to still be very terrified of queerphobia and the impact queerphobic people have vs. the impact allies have. because the impact queerphobes have right now is much larger than the impact that allies have. i just hope that by strengthening the bond between queers and allies that we can flip that balance.

take care of yourself and seriously let me know if you think you may need resources, my librarian friend will likely know of something, or will be happy to find something out for you. take care of yourself for now. we're in some really shitty times. it's easy to become bitter, jaded and disenfranchised.

#asks #answers

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hephaestiions · 7 months ago

Text

'24 retrospective

thank you, @kamaela & @hollyhawthorn for the tag on ruminations from 2024, we're going to pretend i'm not a whole week late to it.

sometime in— march?— i got high and thought— wouldn't it be fantastic if draco and harry did that too? started writing what became almost 7k words of porn with feelings about harry being taken care of, which marked a return to ao3 and my first fic since 2021. win! i posted some shorter, quicker stuff to tumblr, of which i particularly enjoyed writing this auror partners transfer request, about harry, lettuce & embroidery yarn, and grace.

it's been a year of figuring out style & character, what works, what doesn't, what holds weight & water, slips, comes back. which is mostly to say it's been a year of drafts, writing & scrapping, letting things marinate in docs, coming up with several thousand wips & resisting the urge to take down older fics and repost them in a style i agree with more now.

2024 was also the year of getting into reccing, which i've enjoyed far, far more than i expected. my three author reclists for plor, wolf & tacky were my favourite to do, i loved the immersive invite of them. given my need to devour back catalogues of every author i adore, i'm hoping to continue these; we are well and truly blessed with enough writers here to keep me going for a lifetime.

writing (mostly) individual recs for hprecfest was also absolutely glorious. i have so much to say about works that stick with me, and saying it all to get others to go delight in them was brilliantly fulfilling. the process made me write my own love letters to reccing & reccers & the light they are in fandom, which may be my own most cherished post. i don't always have the bandwidth to write or read new stuff, but showing love like this keeps me involved, immersed, and importantly, very happy.

i've read a lot this year & listing everything will unfortunately have us cataloguing the colours of the sky. instead, i'm going to make a list of what i consider my priority tbr of fics & authors, people & works i wanted to get around to this year, couldn't, want to gorge myself on soon.

@garagepaperback wrote 300k words in 9 works this year, and i need to read every one as soon as possible. their style demands savouring & i've saved up so much garagefic for when i have the time to do them justice. @eleadore writes such a deliciously abrasive, petulant drarry dynamic; i'm really, really looking forward to being in A Mood to cut my teeth on their diamonds. (additional shoutout to the remaining reads these two's pile with @yiiiiiiiikes25, reserved for when i need a good smut fix). i read @kamaela's got me started earlier in the year, fell in love with their sharp characters & sharper writing & now everything else they've written, but especially mirror, me is up, up there in needing to be read asap. everything i've read by @sleepstxtic has been fantastic, fantastic, but rush was especially spectacular & i am foaming at the mouth to get to the other two sports fics in the series.

@dodgerkedavra's clear, warm light looks absolutely epic, can't wait to sink my teeth into it (and everything else from dodger's catalogue i haven't read yet). @epitomereally's LA, who am i to love you? has some fantastic tags, a fascinating summary & been on my mfl for an age. this is also maybe-perhaps-potentially the year to work through @mintawasalreadytaken's tit for tat which sits at almost 400k & promises my favourite things (angst & porn), but even if not, it is the year to read the rest of minta's catalogue that i haven't gotten to yet.

& finally, i'm bad at wips, but i'm so very, very excited for @tackytigerfic's first watch of night to finish posting so i can swim around in it.

this is a v small sampling of everything i hope to read this year, i've left out so many wonderful, wonderful authors whom i will end up loving. the goal is to read slower, read steadier, take my time with craft & phrasing, work through catalogues i admire & leave myself space to appreciate with care & specificity.

in the other life of odds and ends and grad school and employment, it was a weird year, kind of a— nothing year? scales weren't tipped too far in either direction, which is different, which demands recalibration, which has left me time & energy in measures i usually don't have. dawn has broken over this fresh swivel around the sun and i'm allowing myself some slivers of tentative, brittle hope. it's new, and i'm putting stock in that being a good thing.

paging everyone i've mentioned above to tell me what you're hoping to do more of in 2025 (fandom/otherwise) if you'd like! cheerleading all of you from here <3

#geets.txt #on 2024

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annisassintchaska · 2 years ago

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FUN DAY: Lewis Hamilton x Black!Reader

Today is this first day that Y/n would be accompanying Lewis to a race. Y/n and Lewis have been dating for the past three years yet kept it a secret until recently due to how hawking the media could be, knowing that Lewis is a legendary F1 driver and Y/n is known for being a billionaire fashion designer who built herself from the bottom with no help and that caused people to admire and look up to her. the news caused the entire world to irrupt in excitement as they all knew that Lewis is a fashion icon, and that being mixed with Y/n's talent would be a showstopper.

Y/n was schedule to arrive at the paddock any moment now and the other drivers were very edgy because of this. they were in and out of the bathrooms, fixing themselves to look presentable enough to appease her. they went around looking to see if their garages were presentable enough having the mechanics and engineers move anything they thought wouldn't be appealing to her eyes, sighing as they finally finished.

A few minutes later, Lewis' car pulled up into the paddock making everyone stop in their tracks waiting to see their "Paddock Queen" arrive. Lewis got out waving at the crowd that cheered for him some asking for the queen while he just laughed and walked over to the other side of the car opening the door and extending his hand for Y/n to take. As soon as she stepped out of the car, people started screaming as cameras started clicking rapidly as if it were a red carpet. Lewis got the bag from the trunk and came around, giving it to Angela before taking her hand as they walked inside.

The first drivers that they saw on the way in were Carlos, Charles and Pierre as they were all just staring in awe looking like three lovesick puppies that wanted to be petted. "Salut!" Y/n said excitedly but turned confused as they were speaking very fast at the same time. "You guys are confusing my girlfriend you idiots, one at a time." Lewis laughed at them which made it worse as them stuttered while trying to speak. "We just wanted to say that we are very big fans of your work. Carlos here owns literally every piece you've created" Charles rambled but was stopped by Pierre slapping him across the back of his head. "Sorry about them, please come with me" Fernando offered as he took her gently by the wrist, walking off with the others, leaving Lewis standing alone. "They stole my girlfriend" Lewis laughed as he watched the grid crowd her out of excitement.

Throughout the day, Y/n found herself being carried from one garage to the next as from one driver to another, excitedly explain somethings and showed her around, getting familiar with the scene. the race was about to start and may God help those working around the drivers as they shouted in arguments of from whose garage should y/n watch the race; however, let's not forget that Lewis' garage was not an option since in Charles' words "Lewis has Y/n more than anyone here so he shouldn't be a choice since he'll see her after work" the Monegasque driver pouted making the other drivers agree. in the end she ended up watching from the Williams racing garage as she wanted to support Alex Albon who almost started to cry at the confession that Y/n liked his driving.

The race was finally over, and Lewis had finished all his post-race duties and was ready to go home, when he was informed that his girlfriend was once again missing from the Mercedes garage. Walking around, he came to a stop as he noticed that the other drivers were entertaining his girl by hosting a karaoke in the centre of the paddock. he motioned to the crowd to keep silent as he wrapped his arms around her, covering her mouth as his other hand lifted her from the chair while he ran away towards the car.

The guys went into panic mode when they came to realize that Y/n wasn't sitting anymore and starting texting everyone they knew asking if they had spotted the pretty, short, dark-skinned woman; only for Lewis to make a tweet 3 minutes later.

lewishamilton: She's unavailable at the moments. Thank you for your cooperation in allowing me to steal her back👍

the comments for this post has been disabled.

#lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton x oc

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rogue-durin-16 · 5 months ago

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HEAD-TO-HEAD (part VIII/?)

Summary: Joe thought she was pretty. Had he just said that, things might have been different for them. Maybe they wouldn't have gone head-to-head at each other for three years like it was a contest.

Pairing: Joseph Liebgott x Reader

Genre: angst/rivals to lovers

Tags:

Head-to-head: @derersketnoget @ladystardustfromarss @lanadelray1989 @chanshugsaretherapy @hoddystark

Band Of Brothers: @fernando-jpg @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world @clumsy-wonderland @lordndsaviorwinters @lanadelray1989 @chanshugsaretherapy @hoddystark

Permanent taglist: @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, blood & gore, warfare

A/N: a bit shorter than the last one but I might have some little treat ready to post in a few days. Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist through the askbox or the comments. Enjoy<3

Head-to-head masterlist

Band of Brothers masterlist

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The squelch of my boots stepping on the mud alerted the three soldiers huddled in the hedgerow, trying with nearly no fruition to get some rest. Whether it was due to the constant drizzle or the German division waiting for dawn on the higher side of the french field, I didn't know.

"Flash!"

"Thunder." My voice was flat as I slid down by Luz's side, careful to keep my rifle away from the damp hole turned trench. "McGrath," I motioned vaguely behind me, gaze fixed on the man who sat in front of me. "you're up."

"Already?" I nodded, already making myself as comfortable as possible. McGrath mumbled a complaint and climbed out, shoving his helmet back on.

Luz, who I had most likely been shaken out of a light sleep with my irruption, gave me a wary up-and-down. "What the hell are you doing here?"

That made my brows draw. "What?"

"She probably got stitched up and busted out the aid station." Joe replied, as if I was not sitting right across from him.

"I didn't bust out." My tone, although low, denoted irritation, which was what Joe was aiming for by the satisfied smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "I just left. Doc gave me the green light."

George's eyes squinted in the dark, searching my profile. "I was half-expecting them to pull you back after that stunt in Carentan."

"Why would they?" sigh. "I can shoot, I can fight, I can run. They're not gonna pull me back for a little shrapnel on my face." I tugged off my own helmet and let it drop with a dull thud before running a hand through my wet hair, slicking it back. "This damn rain."

Joe turned his head to watch me, his tone sarcastic when he quipped, "Thought you liked the rain."

I huffed, locating my rifle strategically for it not to get soaked. "I also like sleeping in a bed, but here we are."

The soil had turned to slush, the rain making sure we felt every inch of our fatigues sticking to our bodies like a second skin. By how unbothered the two men seemed despite the droplets plastering their hair to their skulls, I figured they had given up on caring.

"Ah, fuck." Luz grimaced, staring at his wristwatch.

"What now?" Joe's annoyance was a telltale sign that George had done his fair share of complaining already.

"My watch starts in three hours." The Portuguese clicked his tongue. "Can't a guy get some sleep without a pretty girl dropping beside him?"

"Oh, God." Joe groaned, tilting his head back against the compacted dirt.

George's cheeky grin earned him a light smack on the back of his neck from me. "Go to sleep then."

"Yes, ma'am."

Joe shook his head at our friend's demeanor but refrained himself from speaking up.

George, to his credit, did as he was told and soon enough, he was out cold, his head slumped over my shoulder as his breathing evened out.

Joe and I sat in the quiet, only filled by the soft ricocheting of the water. It was almost eery —the lack of gunfire, mortars and tracers.

"Anything happen while I was on watch?" I whispered in an attempt to break through the unusual silence.

Joe exhaled. "Talbert got stabbed."

"What?"

"Smith got spooked. Talbert was wearing that Kraut poncho—" he rubbed a hand over his face. That damn poncho. "guess it looked wrong in the dark. Smith panicked and stuck him with his bayonet."

My fingers tapped on my thigh in a quick, anxious rhythm. "Is he—?"

"Doc got to him." He waved his hand as a dismissal. "He'll be alright."

I let out a slow breath. We sat with that for a second before I glanced at him again. "You hear anything about Tipper?"

Joe shrugged, jaw tight. "Nothing."

I swallowed. My throat felt dry despite the humidity. "He'll be okay." The words left my mouth without permission.

Joe nodded, his attention fixed on his restless hands. I didn't mention I hadn't seen Tipper at the aid station. Joe didn't ask, either.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A deafening whistle, a white-hot flash, a crack of thunder that didn't come from the sky breaking through the roof. The blast swallowed the world whole.

Look away. An instinct-driven thought.

The pressure slammed into me nonetheless, flinging me back, out the door I had barely set a foot across, dragging something sharp across my skin.

I made a sound—something strangled that didn't reach anyone's ears over the constant gunfire. Not mine, not Tipper's. My hands were on my face before I even thought to move them, warm and slick.

Blood.

My blood.

My fingertips trembled against my cheek, my jaw, my throat.

Not fatal. It couldn't be. Yet the word medic teared harshly at my throat.

I barely had time to register the pain; the sensation of hot shrapnel gnawing through my profile, digging deeper into the flesh with every move of my jaw, before the ringing in my ears cleared just enough to hear it.

"TIP?!"

Joe's voice, sharp and loud. They must have seen the shell diving into the building Tipper had cleared. They must have heard me yelling for medical aid.

"Tipper!! Answer me, Tip!"

I caught a glimpse of Joe and Strohl rounding the corner, feet scraping the gravel in the streets. They both stood frozen in front of the doorway, too shocked pay any attention to me.

I saw why.

Tipper dragged himself out the dim ruin of the building, silhouetted against dust and rubble. His leg —or what was left of it— was soaked through with red, his foot unrecognizable despite him still planting it. One side of his face was a nasty mix of blood and debris, his eye —Jesus Christ, his eye—

I stopped breathing, the crimson dripping down my face momentarily forgotten.

Joe was the first to move. He dropped his rifle against better judgement and stepped forward. Slow. Careful. Bullets were still cutting through the air all around us, but at Tipper's broken mumble calling Joe's name, his voice slipped into something soft. Too soft for a battlefield.

"Lookin' real good, Tip," he murmured. "Alright, you gotta sit down, c'mon."

Tipper barely reacted, too dazed, too wrecked. Too scared. Joe caught him anyway, guiding him down like he was handling fine porcelain. He forced his hands to be steady, to be gentle, trying not to hurt the battered man further.

"Y/l/n— Jesus..." It took Strohl's panicked grip on my shoulders for me to snap out of it. "Where—" His digits, hasty, pressed on my cheek first, then my forehead; they stayed on neck, drawing a pained breath out of me. They were cold compared to the liquid soaking my face.

Soaking Tipper's uniform.

God.

"We gotta move 'em, Lieb!"

For a brief second, Joe looked at me. Just a flicker of movement darting to my face, now smeared in hot blood.

I wouldn't have known the sight he met with, but he looked away just as quickly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

More silence.

A part of me wondered if it was just the battlefield's call for sound discipline, or if our dynamic had somehow shifted irreversibly after landing in Normandy.

An exhausted puff of air. My palm rubbing the water off my eyes. Joe's knife tracing pattern into the dirt.

I glanced over my shoulder at the treeline. Just dark shapes against darker shadows; nothing moving, nothing out of place.

When I turned back, Joe was staring. His eyes dragged over my face, lingering too long at my cheek, my jaw, my neck. My skin prickled.

I didn't have the chance to call him out on it. "It's not that bad."

He got a huff as a response. My mind fished for a smart remark, but I wasn't able to find anything that matched his comment.

Joe tilted his chin up. "Does it hurt?"

"The stitches pull when I laugh."

He snorted, just barely audible over the steady drum of rain. "Then it's a good thing I ain't funny."

My lips parted, but no quips came out, just a careful half smile. Joe didn't mirror the gesture, his narrowed stare tracing the small ridges of stitches. My fingers twitched around my rifle.

"Not that bad." He muttered again, more to himself.

"Not that bad." I echoed even quieter. There wasn't much more to say on my part, yet the silence was begging to be broken.

"I thought you got your face blown off."

I blinked, thrown off by his frankness.

Say something.

"Disappointed?"

Wrong something.

"It's not fucking funny." Joe hissed, shoulders squared up. "You didn't see it. It looked..."

His face subconsciously pulled into a grimace at the mere memory of it, bringing back to my mind the way he had averted his eyes.

I didn't even try to stop myself, the words spilling bitter, pointed and accusatory. "Is that why you wouldn't look at me?"

"What?"

"'Cause you were disgusted?"

Joe's expression twitched, caught between irritation and offense. "Jesus, give me a fuckin' break, alright?"

"No, you give me a break."

"I was busy." The phrase cut its way out like it was meant to be shouted instead of hushed. "Kinda had a guy missing half his goddamn leg in front of me." He leaned forward, forearms draped on his knees. "So excuse me if I didn't have time to worry about your" His wrist flicked, vaguely gesturing at me. "little scratches."

"Don't make it sound like—"

"Like what?"

I narrowed my eyes, mentally taking a step back. We can't do this here. "Tell you what, you're so full of shit."

His mouth twitched like he wanted to argue; instead, he just turned his head away with a moue. The conversation had hit a dead end, but I didn't miss the way his fingers tapped rapidly against his knee.

Maybe that was his way of restraining the verbal retaliation which had become second nature between us at that point in time.

I shifted against the damp earth ever so slightly.

Luz mumbled something in his sleep, head heavy against my shoulder.

Joe didn't look at me again.

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bonnieisaway · 2 months ago

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Oh my god, i'm gonna explode i've been a scissor seven fan for literally a week and I'm frothing at the mouth over any content I can get my hands on 😭 You might have posted something about this but any thought about the movie that's meant to come out next year? And in your opinion what's your favourite artstyle/scene so far from the show?

OHOHOHOH my dear friend welcome to hell. feel free to peruse my profile i have way too many analyses and edits it's honestly a problem atp anyways this is a VERY good question

as for the movie: i'm excited for it! i'm worried about it's availability for english fans, honestly? it feels like season 5 is taking WAY too long to come to netflix atp- we get almost no marketing overseas/not much is translated for us (the poor offical discord is managed by like, ONE half english speaking person god bless their soul) - but if we do get it atleast subbed i'm SO excited for it. i'm really curious on where itll place chronologically and what it'll go over - we got confirmed it wouldn't overlap with the series so maybe more elaboration on seven's past/becoming a killer? either way i'm REALLY excited for it, and i hope we get more news about it soon. we saw drafts a while ago from He Xiaofeng of Seven at nine years old so maybe it'll be related to those

as for my favorite art style: hands fucking DOWN it is season four's art style. i've always loved the art in this show - some seasons more than others season one is my red-headed stepchild /j - and i love how they've become comfortable enough in later seasons to play with the art style as a storytelling element but no MATTER what i LOVE season four's art style. the first episode made me INSANE when i first saw it. s4e1 is a fucking masterpiece. it's not just the art style it's the way they frame things the way they MOVE the EVERYTHING it's SO good. i am in love with it.

low quality screenshost cus i have not paid for my netflix and it feels egotistical to use my edits to grab screenshots - but NOTHING will ever convince me this episode is anything but a fucking cinematic masterpiece. i love how it looks. for lack of a better way to say it seven is fucking GORGEOUS in season four

as for my favorite scene: SHOCKINGLY the answer here is not "the entirety of season 4 episode 1 start to end." close fourth though. i need to talk about my top three because they all make me so insane. so far - mind you i still haven't seen season five - my favorite scene i think is one everyone can guess what it is because i talk about it so much and post about it every other goddamn month is THIS scene:

It's this scene. It's forever this scene. I could talk about it all day and all night but this post is already long enough so I'm going to spare you. This scene makes me so ill. I cannot even formulate thoughts anymore at this point i've SUCKED all the fucking analysis you CAN out of it. Seven never touches Thirteen - and Seven never goes to 'save' Thirteen unless he knows she can't win. And in this moment Seven grabbed Thirteen and pulled her down with him to save him. It is so raw. It is so intimate. It is so much. Dear fucking god.

My second favorite scene IS when Seven lends Thirteen the Thousand Demon Daggers at the end of s3/start of s4 for. like. Basically the same reasons. I'm just not AS insane about it. But you know why. You get it.

Third favorite and last that I will go over is one that DOES NOT happen on screen but the IMPLICATION of it makes me fucking insane and I WISH that they would elaborate on it is

this. Thirteen in season 3 bandaging Seven after he'd been chased through the woods. Fuck me. Fuuuuuuuck me. I'm gonna go fucking insane. Seven being embarrassed abt it beforehand and then instantly cutting to after it happens is FUCKING CRUEL because Thirteen literally never ever reaches out to touch Seven or anything like this and this HAD to be such an intimate and soft scene and the fuckign thought of it makes me insane. He Xiaofeng if you are reading my tumblr blog show me the full version of this scene and my life is yours! My life is yours! Someone write it! Someone! Anything! Please! Fuck! Oh my god! I feel like I'm the only person who thinks about this and it drives me insane! Show me Thirteen bandaging that man's chest THIS INSTANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyways thank you for the ask. I'm so very normal as you can clearly see here and also I do not ever under any circumstances shut the fuck up

#scissor seven #thank you pinyuo #killer seven #wu liuqi #im actually so sick and ill abt these scenes #i will elaborate on them (or any others) if ask but please know i might combust and die in the process #welcome to the fandom pookie i hope u have fun

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justanothersanjilover · 1 year ago

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One Piece Modern Gym Au wip (Part 5)

They actually stared at each other for almost half an hour before something came to Sanji’s mind.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“I don't know, can you?”

Sanji felt the burning ache to roll his eyes, but that would mean losing the game, so he didn't. Instead, he narrowed his eyes to give Zoro an annoying look.

“There were two girls at the bar earlier…”

“I assure you I don't have their number, and even if I won't give it to you.” Zoro cuts in immediately.

“For fucks sake, can you not jump to that conclusion right away?!” Sanji sighed. “They talked about a girl who used to come here some years ago and then stopped only to come back now.”

This time, Zoro narrowed his eye, but Sanji didn't put much of a thought into it.

“Yeah?”

“So…I never saw a new girl come in these past days, and I wondered who it was.”

“Don't know; ask them if you want to know. I wasn't here for the past three years, too.” Zoro shrugged his shoulders but never looked away.

Sanji licked his lips while thinking about what else the girls had said.

“Oh, one of them talked about that this girl had her breasts removed - chopped off was what she said, but I don't think that's appropriate to say. You never know why she did that, could be a medical condition…Also, it sounded like she wanted to look more buff. At least that what they said and that she should have get steroids instead, because the effect is the same, and…”

Sanji stopped talking as he realized the shift in Zoro’s gaze. Next thing was Zoro turning on his heals and walked out the front door without a word, leaving behind a very confused Sanji. Did he say something wrong? Did Zoro know the girl? What had just happened?

The next day came and went without Zoro showing up…a strange fact considering he practically lived in the Gym after his return - he was the first to come in and the last to go. But no one thought about it too much. After the following day went by without a sign of him, Sanji felt worry nagging its way into his mind. Nami seemed unbothered, and so he ignored it.

After the fifth day without Zoro showing his mosshead in the gym, Sanji had to ask Nami if she knew something about him. Was it normal for Zoro to show up every day for five to six hours, training, casually hanging out, and making his work life some kind of a mix of heaven and hell - and then disappearing from one day to the other? Or maybe it had something to do with the question about that girl…

“Maybe it's my fault…” Sanji said, looking down at his feet.

“How should this be your fault?” Nami wanted to know.

“Remember the evening you and Vivi left us behind because we had this little staring fight?”

Nami nodded, now looking up from her paperwork.

“I asked him about a girl I heard someone talk about.”

And funny enough, Nami had the same reaction as Zoro as she heard that.

“What girl?”

Sanji described the whole conversation he overheard and that he just wanted to know if Zoro knew that girl. Also, he was sure now that he knew her and maybe wanted to avoid her because of reasons he couldn't think of.

“Now it all makes sense,” Nami mumbled and shook her head.

She let Sanji describe both girls and said if he saw them, he should send them to her because she needed to tell them something.

“And what about Zoro?” Sanji asked quietly - to be honest, he was worried to the point he thought about him every day.

“He surely just crashed at Luffy’s house. If you want, I can give you his address, and you can check?”

“Would that be okay? I mean, I’m a stranger. Wouldn't your friend be upset if you handed out his address?”

Nami laughed while scribbling something down on a piece of paper.

“Na, he doesn't mind, believe me. Actually, I think he’ll be quite happy to have a new victim for his rambling. He collects people like others collect post stamps,” she paused and grinned as she saw Sanji’s somehow irritated and scared face. “That sounded creepy…It’s totally not, believe me. He just likes to make friends.”

And so Sanji left after his shift to check out if Zoro was at that Luffy’s place or not.

prev | next

First part

#one piece #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #zosan #one piece sanji #zosan fanfic #zosan fanfic idea #zosan wip #one piece modern gym au #trans roronoa zoro #sanzo fanfic idea #probably sanzo too

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captainsophiestark · 1 year ago

Text

Flickering Firelight

Luke Castellan x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Summary: Three snapshots of a relationship with Luke Castellan, before during and after the things he does for Kronos.

Word Count: 1,258

Category: Angst, Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed, leaning my head against my boyfriend's shoulder, both of us illuminated by the flickering light of the campfire we'd made on the beach. Everything had been so busy over the last week, and it was nice to finally have a moment just for us.

"Lotta new campers this summer," mused Luke, my best-friend-turned-boyfriend as of a few months ago. "We're gonna have a hell of a time with them in the Hermes cabin."

"Yeah. Hopefully it won't take too long for them to get claimed. Some of them have been pretty good about it, lately."

Luke just grunted, not really giving me a full response. I knew exactly how he felt about the Olympians and the things they did, so I let it drop.

"I have to say, it's nice to have everybody back, though," I said, gently changing the subject. I took Luke's hand in mine, gently tracing lines with my thumb. "The whole place just feels more alive with the summer campers here."

"True. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to getting them all back into shape in the sword arena, since I just know almost none of them practiced while they were gone."

"Now that is a show that I'd like to watch."

Luke huffed a laugh, and I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smirk that I absolutely adored, and which made my heart race.

"I've got a good feeling about this summer," I said, moving a little closer to Luke as I spoke. The smirk faded from his lips, replaced with a more thoughtful expression I couldn't totally read.

"Yeah. So do I."

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

I hadn't seen the love of my life in a long time, and now we stood on opposite sides of a battlefield. And he wasn't really my Luke.

The flickering firelight of the burning city around me reflected off of gold armor, in the gold eyes I didn't recognize.

"Luke..." My voice broke on his name, turning into a hoarse whisper I hardly recognized. "Please..."

The only indication the man I loved was still in there was the slightest twitch of his eye. Time slowed as the monster that had brought him into this mess smiled at me, nothing like the mischievous grin I knew and loved.

"Nice try, little hero. But he's gone. And so are you."

I tried to raise my sword as Kronos advanced on me, but my arms were like lead. I was among the last defenders of Olympus, further out from the final ring my friends had made. I wanted to make a meaningful stand to try to stop this here and now, but as the seconds inched by, it became more and more clear that wouldn't be possible.

The last thing I saw was Luke's stupid sword Backbiter, with its bronze and steel blade, flashing through the air towards me, held by a monster using someone I loved as a mask.

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

I sighed as I put my feet up on the stone ring of the firepit before me, leaning back in an extra-comfy lounge chair. The sun shone down on me, warming my skin despite being Olympus knew how far underground. Here, it didn't matter. I'd found paradise.

Based on the fact that Elysium still existed at all, I knew my friends had managed to succeed. It hadn't been too long after I'd first arrived here that someone brought news that confirmed it: Kronos and his Titans had been defeated. Olympus had won the day.

Sadly, I wasn't down here by myself. Too many friends were here with me, all of us dying in the fight and at least making it here together, as a small silver lining. We'd taken over a whole section of the place as our own secondary Camp Half-Blood, enjoying the peace here together while we could.

Some of us had even tried for rebirth, and more were headed that way. But I couldn't bring myself to leave. At least, not yet.

I kept waiting for what I was almost confident wouldn't happen, but I refused to move on all the same. Silena had made it down here, after all, despite being a spy for the Titans. She'd realized her error and made a change, helping our cause and redeeming herself enough for Elysium. Based on other accounts from above, Luke had done something similar. He'd also done much worse than Silena, but I still couldn't make myself give up hope of seeing him here too.

"Hey."

I looked up to find Ethan Nakamura, one of Luke's lieutenants who'd defected at the very, very end, looking at me from a few feet away. I raised an eyebrow at him, and he blew out a breath.

"Somebody's here to see you."

I frowned, then shot up straight in my seat as a familiar face stepped out from behind one of the residences of Elysium. Luke, looking more sheepish and unsure than I'd ever seen him in either of our lives, struggled to meet my eyes. I froze, hardly believing what I was seeing. It was him. Like he'd been before all this shit with the Titans.

He finally looked up, and his eyes were his own, all trace of that horrible gold gone.

Tears flooded down my face as I rushed forward, wrapping him in a bone-crushing hug. I sobbed into his chest as I held him, my Luke, somehow here with me after death when I never thought I'd see him again.

He breathed my name like he didn't believe I was real, his arms finally coming around me and holding me tight. We stayed like that for a long time, holding each other, hearts pressed against each other. Finally, it started to sink in that he was really here with me, after everything we'd been through. I pulled back just a bit, so I could look him in the eyes again. Those beautiful eyes that I loved met mine.

"Luke..." I breathed, a smile lighting up my face. Slowly, a beaming smile spread on his own, mirroring mine.

"I- I didn't think you'd be happy to see me."

My heart ached at his words, and I leaned in to give him a soft kiss on the cheek before meeting his eyes again.

"I wasn't happy with the choice you made, Luke, and a lot of bad things came from it. But you came back to me in the end. If what I've been hearing is right, you helped save the world, at the cost of your own life. And even at the worst moments, I never stopped loving you."

"I never stopped loving you, either. If I could go back, if I could do things differently-"

I put one finger to his lips, gently cutting him off before he could get too far down that path.

"I know, Luke. But you can't. None of us can do anything to change the past. So we might as well enjoy where we are now."

He nodded, a soft smile gracing his lips. I leaned up to press mine gently against his own, the kiss soft and sweet and everything I'd been missing since that last summer we'd had together. I let myself enjoy the moment, Luke's hands tightening on my waist, then pulled away.

"Come on," I said, trailing my hand down from his shoulder to take his hand. "Let me show you around, and then we can get some marshmallows and hang out by the fire."

Luke beamed. "I can't think of anything in the world that I'd rather do."

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