#i imagine there’s multiple in maybe a fancy apartment type situation

[secret-whump-basement]

Whumper who sees their Whumpees as works of art. Living statues and paintings. Covered in their own blood, strung up in uncomfortable poses, bruised and cut, pieces of them cut off and maybe put in new places, harsh lights shining in their eyes. If only Whumper could show them off to a wider audience! But they have their small circle who come and ogle Whumpee

[aminiatureworld]

Time and Chance

Characters: Albedo, Childe, Diluc, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,028

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Confessions are tricky things. Sometimes it takes week, maybe months, maybe years of building up courage for one to happen. And sometimes life throws the oddest wrenches in our paths.

In which the reader confesses.

Author’s Note: I may or may not have decided to go full sappy this week, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you guys with my overbearing angst. Also I thought it was cute. Originally I wasn’t sure if I wanted the reader to be the one doing the confessing or whether it should be the character. I decided upon the reader on a whim essentially, with the idea that I could do the character later. We’ll see! The title today is reference to one of my favorite novels, written by Sharon Kay Penman. If anyone likes historical fiction I’d highly recommend it.

Today’s characters are Albedo, Childe, and Diluc. Tomorrow will be Kaeya, Xiao, and Zhongli. And maybe Keqing.

Like I said in my past post Happy Valentine’s Day! Although this time it’s Valentine’s Day proper.

Albedo

In your defense, who wouldn’t fall in love with Albedo?

The mysterious alchemist of Monstadt; sharp as a tack, insatiably curious, and blessed with an ethereal sort of beauty on top of it. Who wouldn’t fall in love with such a person?

And that was the problem. You’d sort of taken it for granted that everyone loved Albedo, and in that assumption you’d found a particularly distasteful discovery. That if everyone loved Albedo then you were hardly going to be the only one asking after his time. And, following that line of thought, you figured it’d be incredibly rude – not to mention supremely irritating for Albedo – for you to confess your feelings.

And it wasn’t as if you two were the closest in the world. Although you wouldn’t say you were total strangers either. You instead drifted in that odd in between; more than acquaintances, not quite friends. Or at least that’s how you interpreted it. Albedo didn’t seem to be the person with inclinations towards friendship in general, a not altogether untrue or wild assumption, so you remained content where you were, happy with the conversations you had, with the times he’d trust you with a piece of equipment or would explain to you in detail what he was working on. I mean, surely that was enough?

Absolutely not. Even in your state of perpetual irritation and fretting over your feelings, you knew that simply ignoring them was a ridiculous solution. When did that ever go well? Miscommunication was the relationship killer, no matter what type, and what could be more of a misunderstanding than this? You didn’t even know what he thought of you for Seven’s sake!

So you’d resolved yourself to telling him. Even if he’d be irritated surely he’d appreciate your honesty. And even if he didn’t you needed to tell him, for yourself if not for him.

It was with this in mind that you approached him one afternoon as he was working outside.

“Um, Albedo?” Your voice had taken on a slightly weak tone, as if you didn’t have enough air all of a sudden. It sounded weird, and you kind of wished you didn’t have to hear it. But that was par for the course when dealing something like this, although it didn’t make it any easier.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t notice you there.” Albedo turned around to look at you. You noticed that he’d swapped his regular tools for a paint set and an easel. Glancing at the painting you were struck by how he’d somehow managed to depict Cider Lake so accurately with so few brushstrokes. Never did you think about how the slight ripples that appeared in it could look a bit like circles. It was altogether impressive, and for a moment you forgot what you were doing, or perhaps you’d pushed it out of your mind.

“Was there something you wanted to ask?” Albedo’s voice pulled you out of your artistic musings. Evidently you weren’t going to be able to get out of it now. Come hell or high water, you were going to tell him.

“Well, so… you see, I… I really love you and your work!” The words came tumbling out, dropping like stones in the suddenly charged atmosphere. Almost immediately your nerves were replaced with a distinct sinking sense. “Uhm, rather. I mean –” you tried to begin again, but your voice had suddenly turned quite small, and you found yourself unable to continue.

“I’m glad to hear it.” Albedo’s voice was calm but not unkind, for a moment you felt your face grow warm. Was this actually going to happen? It’d be impressive considering how you’d botched it. “I’m so glad to hear there’s someone else interested in my work. I find that unfortunately a great many people take the world around them for granted. That you do not is commendable.”

You found you weren’t really sure what to say; admittedly the only thing going through your mind at the time was something along the lines of Holy shit. Holy shit I fucking blew it.

Okay, so maybe that was an absolute train wreck. Still, you’d gotten that far, and at this point you felt like it’d be harder to stop and deal with the memory of your botched pseudo-confession than to try again. So you steeled your courage and after a week or so you found yourself ready.

This time you tried for as he arrived at work. Originally you were going to wait for afterwards, but you found the anticipation was tearing you apart, and so decided for before. The anticipation, combined with your slight exhaustion, was nearly unbearable; and a not so small part of you kept telling yourself that this was a terrible idea, but you were too far gone.

“Fancy meeting you here at this time.” There was certainly surprise in Albedo’s voice, but he was smiling, and didn’t seem to mind at all when you stammered out that you wanted to ask him about something. He simply nodded, before unlocking his lab and gesturing for you to go in first.

You loved Albedo’s lab. Various pieces of equipment gleamed in the early morning light, everything properly labeled and put away; a stark contrast to the clutter of Albedo’s desk, filled with papers and the odd sample. The whole room was surprisingly nice in general, floors made of wood, painted over with a type of resin as to keep it from being properly damaged, multiple windows keeping the space surprisingly airy, and the smell of various herbs filling the air, though not so much as to be overpowering. You’d once mentioned to Albedo that the space seemed much to homey to be a proper lab. He’d merely laughed, replying that all homes should be comfortable, no matter how out of the ordinary.

Now you used said comfort and familiarity to ground yourself. This time you’d do it. This time for sure.

“So, um about my question?”

“Yes?” Albedo replied, dropping a few things on his desk. You took a breath, steadying yourself before pushing on ahead.

“Well… you know when I told you I liked you and your work?”

“Of course. I was very happy to hear it.” Albedo’s tone remained opaque, you had no idea how your words were registering.

“Well, you see, I wasn’t being completely clear. What I meant was more… well… well I like you, more than your work.” Seeing the look of confusion on his face you sped up slightly. “Not that I don’t like your work of course! It’s just, it’s just…” you were foundering again, feeling stupidly embarrassed. Becoming more and more frustrated with yourself you shook your head. “What I mean is I like you. Personally. And I like you a lot, more than just as acquaintances or as maybe friends. And I know that this is kind of out of the blue and kind of intrusive, and I’m sure there are a lot of people who like you. But I just wanted to tell you because, well I don’t know, just because.”

You took a deep breath, feeling as if you’d said altogether too many words. Glancing towards Albedo you saw a look of slight shock on his face. A feeling of dread was creeping up on you. Maybe it would’ve been better to say nothing.

“Well, I’m certainly flattered,” Albedo began, all your hopes beginning to sink. Urging yourself not to look away your nevertheless started picking at your fingernails, praying that at least the rejection would be over soon. “though I’m not really sure what you see in me. I’m hardly the ideal sort of person. And there certainly don’t seem to be many people who like me.” Albedo paused then; staring at him you found yourself in slight disbelief, sure that the sudden blush painting his cheeks was a figment of your imagination. “That being said, I cannot say that I don’t reciprocate your feelings. In truth I feel quite foolish now, only for assuming you were uninterested and refusing to try my hand at my own confession.”

“Really?” You didn’t mean for the tone of your voice to come out as so utterly disbelieving, but you couldn’t help yourself. Slightly light-headed you took a step forward, closing the space between you and the suddenly bashful alchemist in front of you. “You like me too?”

“Yes.” Albedo nodded slightly. “And, well, since you like me as well, might we…”

“Might we?”

“Might you do me the honor of becoming my partner?”

You found yourself giggling hysterically, half from the sudden release of nerves half from how ludicrous the situation had turned out to be. Seeing Albedo, looking for the first time uncertain and nervous, you stopped. Your face burst into a smile and you nodded.

“This is quite dramatic. But of course, of course I will.”

“I’m glad. But, might I say something?”

“Yes?”

“I wish you’d told me after work. If only because I’ll never be able to concentrate now.”

 Childe

If you had to describe your crush on Childe in one word it would be: idiotic. If you had to describe it in a sentence it’d be; incredibly irritating but also impossible to ignore.

You liked Childe, you liked him a lot. And you couldn’t blame yourself. Childe was the ideal sort of partner; charismatic, athletic, with eyes that could make your heart skip a beat and hair that was asking for you to run your hands through it. Childe was attentive too, full of words that would make anyone swoon a bit, and always ready to listen, agreeing with you on every point and reacting just as you wished.

But that was the problem. Childe was a façade, his personality had been honed to be as sharp and as deadly as a knife. Of course he was understanding and charismatic and a perfect person to hold a conversation with, what else could one expect of a member of the Fatui?

At first you’d desperately tried to ignore your feelings, as if they were somehow embarrassing. You felt vaguely guilty for carrying a flame for Childe, as if you’d managed to fall into a trap you’d seen a ways away. It was an unpleasant feeling to be sure, and you tried to bury it as much as possible, sure it’d go away.

But it didn’t go away, instead your feelings somehow seemed to become more and more stubborn, as if insisting on leading you down the path that many fools who interacted with the Fatui had fallen down before. Childe was at the forefront of your mind.

You noticed when he passed by you, shooting you a blinding smile which always turned into a self-confident sort of smirk, no doubt a result of your inevitable blush. You noticed the way he always seemed to ask after your interests, but never failed to avoid more personal topics that might make you uncomfortable. You noticed how he laughed at your odd half-jokes and the way that his hand brushed your once, causing you to withdraw your own as if burned, stammering out a “nothing” when he asked what was wrong.

But still you refused to tell him. Surely that was what he wanted, another person who could be called upon to give information to the Fatui, or perhaps assist in their dirty work. That wouldn’t be you, that would never be you.

It was snowing on your way home, blocking out the normal sounds and casting the world in an eerie sort of beauty. You wished that it wasn’t so late, cursing yourself for once more forgetting how early the sun set. It didn’t help that it was blindingly cold, and that you were dressed for weather that was at least ten degrees warmer. Hurrying along you were thinking about the meal that you were going to have, unaware of the slick patch of ice lying in front of you.

“Whoah, be careful!” You were yanked out of your thoughts with alarm. Glancing around you quickened your pace, shoes slipping immediately on the ice. However instead of a hard fall on the street you found a pair of arms wrapped under yours. Glancing up you found your face only centimeters away from Childe’s.

“Sorry for causing that.” Childe’s voice was clear as a bell, marking the contrast between the two of you in your mind. Lifting you up he chuckled slightly. “I should’ve realized that a random voice yelling at you would be alarming. Nothing bruised I hope?”

“N-no.” You managed, face burning. You’d never gotten this close to Childe before, not really, and the experience was going straight to your head, as if you’d suddenly gotten very, very drunk. Shaking your head you shifted your glanced towards the ground. “Thank you.” You managed, although your voice was soft enough to be inaudible. You were still trying to process what was happening. One question kept replaying itself in your mind, why had he called out, why had he noticed you?

“I’m glad!” Childe’s voice was a beautiful thing, and you found you couldn’t really think when listening to it. “I was a bit worried I wasn’t in time.”

“Yeah…” you replied. Suddenly the situation dawned on you completely, and you found yourself looking at him with no little suspicion. “Why do you pay so much attention to me?” You blurted out.

“What do you mean?” The expression on Childe’s face was one of perfect confusion, but you could tell that he’d been somehow caught. The tone of his voice was suddenly muddied, as if you were hearing his uncertainty for the first time. This gave you courage to press forward.

“I mean it. Why, why do I always see you? I mean, why do you even pay attention to me? I’m not the kind of person to forget who you are, the fact that you’re a member of the Fatui. I won’t be roped into your schemes, no matter how much I like you.” Shit. That last part was supposed to be only in your head. For a moment you weren’t sure if you hadn’t actually hit your head somehow.

Childe looked frozen, his expression blank, filled with disbelief as well as… bashfulness? If that’s what it was it certainly didn’t fit the normal vision of Childe, still you found yourself somehow compelled by it. This was a part of the real Childe.

“I… didn’t realize you’d notice. Now I feel found out!” He chuckled again, but this time it was distinctly nervous, and he turned to the side slightly. Suddenly he paused, and his eyes snapped towards yours. “Wait, rewind. You like me?”

“…Yeah.” I mean what were you supposed to say?

“I can’t believe this.” The widest grin spread across Childe’s face, and he started bouncing on his toes slightly, it was very cute you could give him that.

“You’re ignoring the rest of my words. Personal feelings or not I still hate the Fatui, and I still don’t know why you’d target me anyways.”

“It’s cause I like you, can’t you tell?” Childe’s words rammed into you, utterly unexpected; seeing you shake your head he once more closed the space between you two. “No, I mean it. I like you. I just can’t believe that you like me back.” He let out another huff of laughter. “I can’t believe I’m this lucky, I’ve never been this lucky. Well, I’m sorry that I came off like I was some Fatui creep, I promise my occupation doesn’t include systematic wooing of civilians.”

“How can I trust you?” You were trying to stand your ground, but in reality you’d already fallen. The situation was too much, and what little resistance you’d managed to hold on in the past weeks was tearing to shreds before your own eyes.

“Because I wouldn’t lie about this.” Childe was suddenly still, his expression deadly serious. “I promise I wouldn’t lie about something like this. The fact is I like you, I like you a lot. I know my job is… unconventional to say the least; I also know that it’s entirely fair if you don’t want to associate with me because of it. But at least trust in my feelings being real, okay?”

What could you do? You nodded, a short “I trust you” falling from your lips. The feeling of happiness was surprisingly sedate, mixed with nerves, yet also somehow filled with contentment. It felt so good, it felt so good just to let go and accept what had happened. You liked Childe, you liked him so much, and he like you too. What more was there to say?

“May I ask you something?” Childe asked, voice slightly husky. Your faces were once more barely apart, and you found that you could stay like this for ages and ages.

“Yes?”

“May I hold your hand?”

You let out a laugh, smiling brightly as you slid your hand into his.

 Diluc

You weren’t even sure how this one happened.

It wasn’t that Diluc wasn’t the perfect kind of guy, I mean if he wasn’t you probably wouldn’t be falling madly into one sided love with him. It was just that you two didn’t actually have much of a chance to interact with one another, what with him being the manager and part time bartender of a surprisingly vast winery, and with you being an adventurer and someone not likely to get plastered any time soon.

But the few times that you had interacted with him, usually something to do with guarding the alcohol he was exporting, had been enough to cement an intense infatuation in your mind. There was just something about him; whether it was his voice, his polite yet intense form of speech; his mannerisms, always perfectly on time with what he needed, something which helped you and the Guild immensely; or his general charm, okay look he had great hair; you’d simply gone mad for him.

And mad indeed you were. Though you weren’t about to become a stalker – besides being incredibly creepy on principle since when did that land a person in anything but jail – you’d taken to trying to find out a least a little more about him. Because if you were going to be infatuated with someone it should at least be for more than his organizational skills and the fact his hair would look great in a high ponytail.

And what you’d found out only built upon your crush. The fact that he found the Knights of Favonius lacking, though perhaps a bit unconventional, was ultimately reasonable, or at least justifiable. You liked also that he refrained from drinking, and not just because the idea of ending the night sick in the bathroom was something that haunted you a bit. The more you learned the more you wished that you were in a situation where your feelings could be reciprocated, or at least where you could become friends of some degree. Really you just wanted him to notice your existence, sure he could pick you out in the endless sea of adventurers.

So you planned on introducing yourself at some point, at least as his almost designated wine protector. The only problem was when. Diluc seemed to be busier and busier these days, and when he was around he seemed muted, as if he was carrying something. You couldn’t bring yourself to add to his burden your own baggage. So you said nothing, and as your crush grew so did your dejection.

It was a lovely summer evening and, seeing as your apartment had becoming stifling in the daytime, you’d taken a walk, snaking through the streets of Monstadt before exiting via the back gate, glad to see there were no guards around. Walking down towards the banks of the lake you slipped off your shoes and dipped your feet into the water. Letting out a sigh you sat down and tilted your head back, enjoying the slightly breeze on your face, trying to take your mind off of the past months of agony. The world faded into background noise, and you found yourself in a state of pseudo peace, glad to have it, if only for a moment.

“Watch out!” A familiar voice broke through your reverie. Turning your head towards the source of your disruption you saw a masked figure as well as a cryo abyss mage. The mage, having correctly decided you were going to be easier to deal with than the actively armed person, suddenly appeared right in front of you. Acting on instinct you pushed your hand in front of you, letting electricity bloom from your fingertips.

As the abyss mage lay stunned your felt an arm wrap around your waist, dragging you a ways away. “Wait here.” The person carrying you said, before running back to fight. Finally getting a good look at your savior it was all you could do not to gasp. Despite being the cold hard truth you still found it hard to believe, and for a second you wondered if you hadn’t passed out somewhere and were having a particularly fantastic dream.

Finally the fighting was over, lifting yourself up you jogged over to the man who could only be the Darknight Hero.

“Master Diluc?” The words flew out of your mouth.

��Just Diluc please.” Diluc shook his head. “Forgive me for being a bit rough. Cryo abyss mages and electro users rarely work well together.”

“It’s perfectly fine!” You replied eagerly. “Really, thank you!”

Diluc offered a smile in reply, one that immediately made your heart seize up. Suddenly you remembered who the person in front of you was. Seized at first with something akin to embarrassment you also came to a sudden realization. This might be the only chance.

“Diluc?”

“Yes?”

“Well, can I say something?”

“Of course you may.” Diluc relaxed his stance, leaning slightly forward. Your face was burning, you really weren’t expecting something like this to happen, but it was now or never.

“I realize this will be quite sudden, but I… I like you.” You felt the urge to add on something, some explanation or apology, but unfortunately, or perhaps thankfully, you found you couldn’t say anything more. Running your fingers through your hair you lowered your head slightly, not wanting to see the expression on his face.

“Can I say something?” Diluc’s voice was gentle, and you couldn’t help but look up at him. Though you wouldn’t say his stance had changed very much, he somehow seemed more relaxed, something you weren’t expecting.

“Of course! I realize what I said must really be a shock, I’m really sorry.” You let out a pathetic sort of laugh.

“Don’t be sorry. I realize what I’m about to say must be equally as shocking. But, the fact of the matter is I like you as well.”

“I didn’t realize you knew I existed!” You replied, still not ready to drop your defense mechanisms. Diluc stared at you, a perplexed expression on his face.

“I’m quite surprised by that, I thought that my request for you to be the guild member in charge of the Winery would’ve been an indicator. Forgive me, I didn’t realize that you were unaware.”

“I thought that was a decision by the Guild to make things easier.” You admitted. “Although I guess I just didn’t want to admit that you might be aware of my existence.”

“Why?”

“Because that would’ve been scary! I mean, what if you didn’t like me, not in that way, just… in general.”

“Well I like you a lot.” Diluc’s voice was soft and warm.

“I like you two.” You replied, voice barely above a whisper.

As he escorted you back to your home the two of you spoke about a myriad of things, some important and some quite mundane. You found that having your feeling reciprocated had truly opened up something in you. Suddenly everything seemed so much realer, made manifest by Diluc’s presence. You couldn’t believe it really. What had failed with months of planning had succeeded in a matter of moments.

And all because of an unsuspecting abyss mage.

[mxchellesworld]

𝟑 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐂𝐚𝐭 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐞𝐧𝐯𝐲.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of sex and masturbation 

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

***

It had been a few days since you’d seen Cat and Spencer. After lunch you decided it was time to make your way back home. A quick exchange of numbers and the promise of seeing each other soon and you were back to your mundane routine of getting adjusted to the city. The short uber ride to your apartment, which they insisted they paid for, was spent answering texts from your friends and confirming you were still alive after they left you. 

You spent the rest of the day doing laundry for the week and cleaning bits of your apartment. It was still pretty bleak, with empty walls which you longed to fill with pictures and art. Your room was a bit more lively with knitted blankets your aunt made long ago and the light of the warm lamp in the corner filling the space. 

Sunday was bland with the task of getting groceries. You decided to walk since the store was a block away. You made your way down the streets in a simple sweater and leggings, foregoing any makeup. Walking into the store the older lady at the register greeted you with a kind smile. 

Picking up a basket you made your way down the isles trying to get your things quickly to get back home and sleep the day away. While searching the snack section you stood in front of the popcorn deciding between buttered or kettle. You heard footsteps and saw a worker make his way down to restock the shelf. 

He was tall and you noticed the way his shirt rose as he reached the top shelf. Spencer could probably reach that no problem, you thought to yourself. He caught you staring and turned to you with a smile. 

“Having a movie night?” he asked walking closer. You could smell the scent of his cologne, strong but not overpowering.  

“Not really haha, but don’t get me wrong a catch up day of my favorite show is definitely on the list,” you replied returning with a small smile. 

He leaned in reaching for one of the boxes, subtly boxing you into the space. 

“Well this is my favorite kind,” he said handing you the box, “Ya know perfect to amount to eat alone.. or share.” 

“Oh,” you said surprised with a chuckle trying to play off the heat rushing to your cheeks. 

You were about to respond when you heard a voice from the end of the aisle, “Y/n.” 

Think of the devil and he shall appear.

Spencer was walking over to you holding his own basket filled with essentials like milk and bread. He looked like he did on Saturday, wearing those grey sweatpants which made you thank the stars above. On top he had on a simple tshirt and cardigan combo making him look extra cozy. 

“Hey Spence,” you said looking past the employee. 

“Did you get the popcorn baby?” he said looking the worker up and down. 

You furrowed your brow seeing what he was playing at, “Yeah yeah, he was just giving me a recommendation,” you turned back to the worker, “thanks again.” 

The worker nodded, red in the cheeks from facing Spencers death glare, before he walked away and rounded the corner. 

“What the fuck was that,” you both said at the same time. 

“He was just trying to help,” you said waving around the box of popcorn. 

“Come on princess you’re smarter than that. He was obviously trying to flirt with you.”

You scoffed before answering, “What don’t tell me you’re jealous.” 

“Oh I’m not,” he said with a smirk, “I’m confident in the fact we’ve proved who you belong to.”

You rolled your eyes before he spoke again, “Plus I know a boy like him could never satisfy a greedy little whore like you. Tell me, are the handprints still there?”

You opened and closed your mouth not being able to answer him. The laugh he let out told you he new he had won. 

“I think I’m done shopping,” you said walking past him. 

“Alright princess have a good rest of your day. But don’t think Cats not hearing about this, and she won’t be very happy.”

You felt your insides heat up at the thought of Cat knowing. What she would do to you. 

“Uh huh bye Sir,” you said stressing the title. 

You made your way to the older lady who you saw when you walked in, “Find everything alright?” she asked kindly. You nodded and pulled out your wallet to pay. 

God she had no idea. 

_

That interaction replayed in your mind from that night into your days at work. Neither of them had texted. Maybe Spencer forgot and never told Cat. The wait for something to happen was torturous. 

Your friend had noticed you were spaced out. Looking longingly at your phone during your breaks or lunch. It wasn’t like your feelings were hurt much for being ignored but more so the ache between your thighs was having a reaction. As you predicted trying to use your fingers or that sad vibrator in your bedside drawer was doing nothing to aid your release. 

You were out at the cafe around the corner from the office you worked at having lunch with one of your coworkers. She was going on about the night she had with the guy from the bar over the weekend. 

“Then he bent me over the couch! God it was so good,” she all but moaned. 

“Uh huh.” 

“I swear we were up until like 4 am going round after round,” she continued. 

“Right.”

“After that we sacrificed a goat on Saturn.”

“Oh wow,” you said looking down at the unlit rectangle next to your sandwich. 

“Y/n,” she said snapping her fingers in front of you. 

“What,” you said raising an eyebrow. 

“You’re being really shitty right now. I’m trying to tell you about how I literally got my back blown out and you’re staring at your phone like it’s gonna unlock the key to your future,” she said exasperatedly. 

Welp she wasn’t entirely wrong. 

“Abbie I’m sorry. I’m just waiting on a text. But please tell me more,” you said nodding for her to continue. 

“No, I wanna know fucked you stupid this weekend to make you act like a lovesick puppy,” she said putting her elbows on the table to rest her face in her palm. 

You internally debated telling her. I mean so far she has been the nicest and most welcoming to you, definitely bff material. But on the other hand you didn’t know if you were allowed to bring them up to other people. Technically it wasn’t a rule and what they didn’t know didn’t hurt them. 

You took in a deep breath before spilling your guts,” So basically after I noticed you guys were gone I accidentally walked into a sex club then later that night I fucked the owners and now we’re in a throuple type situation.” You ended with an awkward smile and waited for her reaction. 

“Oh the bdsm club? Isn’t it like the Library something?” she said casually. 

You sat there blinking for a while, “Out of everything I said thats the part that caught your attention.”

“So you had a threesome, very nice, we’ll get to that part. Tell me about the club.”

“Uh ok. We’ll it’s called the Underground Library and it’s what you’d imagine any bdsm lounge would be like. Red lights and sexy music playing in the back. There’s a bar and uh playrooms where you can watch others.”

She hummed taking in the information and sipping on her latte, “So the sex?”

“God it was so fucking good.” You both laughed and you spent the last few minutes of your lunch break telling her about what they did to you. Safe to say you knew your panties would be a mess by the end of the day just replaying those memories in your head. 

_

It was finally Thursday, you were so close to the work week ending and having a night with Abbie. The plan was for her to help you do a little shopping for your home then redecorate and spend the rest of the night sipping on wine with a pizza. Absolutely perfect. 

The day went by yet again without a notification from the people you wanted. At this point you came to the conclusion the incident was forgotten and left in the past. 

Friday you woke up around 10 and let yourself lay in bed, answering emails and lounging around until noon for you to get ready for your day with Abbie. After a while you got up to make a quick breakfast and make a list of items you planned on buying. 

You thought about getting a throw for the couch and some nice curtains. Maybe some wall decor. You were so excited to finally have a place to yourself and style it to your liking. 

Having roommates in college was fun but the solidarity of being able to walk around your own place basically naked and sing as loud as you wanted was liberating. 

Noon rolled around and you made your way to the bathroom to take a shower. The water pressure on your shoulders was breaking through to all the stress of the week and you instantly felt it melting away. 

You hopped out, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel and looking in your closet for what to wear. You settled for jeans and an oversized flannel, putting some comfy booties on your feet. You looked at your phone to see Abbie had texted and she would be on her way in 45 minutes. Using the remaining time you did your hair and makeup, just the basics for your day out. 

Your phone dinged with a simple text that read “here”, you grabbed your purse and the list on your kitchen counter and made your way to the elevator. 

You saw her little red car right in front of your building. The sound of music playing through the speakers could be heard from a few feet away. 

You pulled the door open and she greeted you with a big smile, “Hey! You ready to spend away that paycheck,” 

You laughed before answering, “You know it.”

The trip was made with nothing but laughs and a horrible mix of you guys singing to the radio. 

_

After a few hours and trips to multiple stores you guys stopped at one of the vendors in the mall to get some soft pretzels. Looking around you saw a fancy lingerie store and an idea popped into your head. 

You tapped Abbie on the shoulder to get her attention, “Hey I know you’re dead on your feet but theres one store I wanna go to. Do you wanna just grab a table? I’ll be like 20 minutes tops.”

“Yeah no prob Y/n/n,” she said holding her hand out for the bags you had in your hand, “this cinnamon twist is calling my name.” You both shared a giggle before you turned and skipped over to the store.

A woman wearing a dark purple sweater greeted you, “Hello darling, are you looking for anything in particular?”

“Nope I’m just taking a look around, thanks,’ you said with a smile. 

Walking around you saw a display of a matching set. It was baby pink and lacy and it left little to the imagination of the mannequin. Perfect. 

You looked over the table finding the set in your size and walking to the dressing rooms. Quickly you basically ripped your clothes off, speeding to get the fabric on your curves. It was stunning, complimenting your skin and hugging your curves. 

You pulled your phone out and hit the messaging icon. If they weren’t gonna text then you had to bite the bullet and put on your big girl panties to do it first. 

Typing in each of their contact names you made a groupchat and hit the camera option. You lifted your hand to get a flattering angle and gave the mirror your best pout. 

“Do you think it’s a good color?” Sent. 

One last glance in the mirror and you knew this was going home with you. Changing back into your clothes you slipped your phone in your pocket and made your way to the register. 

“Just this for you today honey,” the woman asked. 

“Yup,” you said pulling out your wallet. You heard the chime of a text and a smirk came across your face. Finishing the transaction you were excited to see what their reaction was. 

Walking back to Abbie you saw her on the phone and raised your brow in question. She started to get up and you took some of the bags from her hands. Once she was done with the call she put her phone in her purse and looked over to you. 

“Change of plans. Sam, the guy from the club, called and he’s coming over to mine tonight. So raincheck on the wine and pizza?”

You waved a hand dismissing what she said, “You’re all good, go catch that dick.” She laughed and pulled out her keys as you guys made your way out of the mall. 

In the car you pulled your phone out to check the message. It was from Cat. 

“I’m not sure. Maybe your little friend from the grocery store can help you pick.” 

So Spencer did tell her. 

You quickly replied, “You know green isn’t a good look on either of you.”

Another chime. “Why would I be envious? Last time I checked you came on my fingers, in my bed.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at her words. You tried to think of a response but this time Spencer responded. 

“Come to the lounge at 7. And wear that underneath your clothes.” 

“Yes Sir.” was all you said and the conversation ended. 

Looks like you and Abbie both had other plans for the night anyways. 

𝐚/𝐧; 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐢'𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐢𝐭. 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐫!!

[amusedyan]

I'm loving your blog. So listen, I'd die for some Ouran content. Maybe a Kyoya falling for a guest at some Ootori party, she was brought along by some wealthy friend of hers and is not into the wealthy elite at all, something that bothers but intrigues Kyoya. I'd love to see him try to woo her, become protective of her, because she lives such a dangerous regular commoners life without body guards. Then try to save her from that life. How would he react to her misbehaving or being generally 1/2

Unhappy with the situation he’s put her in? Whether it’s him micromanaging every aspect of her life or him having actually locked her up in some corner of the Ootori manor? Personally, I always saw Kyoya as someone who enjoyed old-fashioned punishments. Like a spanking over the knee. But it’s totally up to you. I love where you took that Bakugo fic, so I trust you to take this where ever. Honestly, I’d just be so grateful if you had any Ouran content to offer. Again, love your work so far 2/2

Yay my first Ouran request! Thanks so much nonnie for requesting this, I love Kyoya- his deadpan humor and general attitude just give me so many ideas and make him such a great character! And those same traits make him terrifying as a yandere!

Bitter

You hated fancy parties.

You picked at your collar and tried not to look like you were bored out of your mind as all the rich people mingled and laughed discussed business over food and drinks more expensive than your family’s monthly grocery bill. 

It was funny. You could write off your friend’s eccentric behavior, but in a group of rich people? Well, the bitterness crept back in and left a sour tang in your mouth. 

You glanced down at your flute of champagne. It would be, what, your third? Reluctantly you returned it- you were a guest, getting blackout drunk was not on your shortlist of ‘great ideas for parties full of rich people’. So you just mingled politely, staying close to your friend.

“Mr. Ootori!” She declared happily, waving over a dark haired man with a calm smile and glasses. There’s half a moment of hesitation on his part before he approaches- you can’t blame him; a brief word with your friend turns into half an hour with her.

“Glad you could make it,” he offered dutifully, and oh that was interesting- he had that same look in his eyes you did- like he couldn’t stand his own kind. It had to be some kind of joke.

You found yourself smiling for the first time that night, and caught the way his eyes flashed at you for the briefest of seconds before it was gone.

Maybe you’d imagined it.

“I see you’ve made use of the plus one on your invitation.” He remarked, and your friend laughed and introduced you.

Ootori nodded and looked back at you with a raised eyebrow, “I don’t believe I’ve heard of you.” His tone was just detached enough that you couldn’t be sure if it was a joke or an insult.

“You wouldn’t- I’m not pedigreed.” You wished you could take a drink as a mic drop. Instead you just had to content yourself with your friend’s horrified look.

But Ootori just looked amused.

“Man people prefer mutts to purebreds,” he said in that same level tone.

As a person who’d had several mutts growing up, you could confirm that they were better. Less health problems. 

He asked what your job was and you mentioned the field, notwanting to stray into talk about work. Work was work, and frankly here wasn’tthe place to talk about it. Thankfully Ootori accepted it and didn’t push,instead managing to draw you into aconversation that didn’t make you want to beat your own head in. It was nice.

Finally, he had to excuse himself and see to his otherduties as host, but before he left he caught your hand and brought it up to pressa gentle kiss there. It stopped you short, as did the small smile playing onhis lips.

“Until we meet again,” he promised cryptically, before goingoff to join his people.

Your friend was gawking at you.

You decided maybe one more glass of champagne wouldn’t hurtyou.

Two weeks after the Ootori party Kyoya Ootori himself walkedinto your favorite coffee shop, saw you and invited himself to sit at yourtable after taking his order. The man was far out of his element but didn’tseem in the least bit uncomfortable, exuding a calm confidence and sense ofcontrol that made clear why he was so good at his job.

(And yeah, you had gone the creepy route and looked him upon the internet, rather than just asking your friend; they might have gone toschool together once upon a time but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t misreadyour questions as interest and let him know about it on a lark.

Despite being the youngest Kyoya had managed to earn hisplace as heir of Ootori conglomerate. He was ruthless in business but one hellof philanthropist, setting up multiple scholarship programs for elite schoolsthat lower income students wouldn’t have access to, on top of the dozens ofother charities that the company donated to on the regular. And that was whatyou could track down in maybe 45 minutes)

“Pretty far from your side of town,” you observed, addinganother packet of sugar to your coffee.

“I had business in the area and needed a coffee.” You hummed and watched him watch you.

He was quiet for a minute and you took the time to drink your coffee. His was pure black, you’d heard him order it.

“You remind me of a friend I had.” He said suddenly, and you stayed quiet, although you were a little confused because he didn’t seem like the type to have friends. “She wasn’t impressed by money either.”

“Smart of her.”

He chuckled a little bit, no more than a huff. 

“I’d like to take you out for dinner sometime.” Now that actually made you look at him properly. He hadn’t taken his eyes off you yet.

“Because I’m not interested in money?”

“Because I find your conversation relaxing and I’d like to think you feel the same way.”

It was a bit weird; you’d had maybe 20 minutes total of talking with this man. Technically those twenty minutes were enjoyable. Kyoya was blunt and composed and intelligent; you could appreciate that in a man.

“Alright.” You agreed, surprising yourself.

Kyoya’s smile unfolded into something a little more open. You wondered how often people saw this one.

You exchanged numbers and the promise of detail exchange later; you had to get back to work soon, and even though he didn’t say he needed to leave you were sure that he needed to get back too.

There were flowers on your desk at work the next day.

The bouquet was gorgeous; lavender roses and baby’s breath- you didn’t even know that lavender roses this nice were in season.

The card on the vase (a very nice, very expensive looking vase) confirmed your suspicions.

I saw these and thought of you.

                                          -Ootori Kyoya

And you smiled because it was really thoughtful.

But…how did he know where you worked?

Ootori: Did you receive the flowers?

Me: Yes I did! They’re beautiful, thanks!

Me: How did you know where I worked?

Ootori: You told me at the party, remember?

Me: Ah, sorry, I must have forgotten!

Me: Thanks again, Ootori.

Ootori: Call me Kyoya, please.

You work out a good night for the both of you to go out. It took some shuffling on your part, but at least Kyoya seemed willing to work with you.

He meant what he said at least- he was serious about dinner.

And it was dinner at a really nice restaurant; one that had a really long wait list ordinarily and didn’t have a price on the menu.

Well, you get to break out your formal clothes again, and it was nice to watch the way Kyoya’s expression changed when you entered the dining area. The softening of his mask maybe. 

“You look nice.” Was all he said about it, though, even as he stood up to pull out your chair for you.

“Thanks, so do you.” And he did. Kyoya could have worn anything and pulled it off, probably.

The server came by moments later with wine and glasses. That was nice at least, but again…

“You ordered for me?” You asked, smiling. He nodded.

“I thought it more convenient.” 

Pushy, but whatever, he meant well.

Except…

The pushing didn’t stop.

It started with the wine, yeah, but it just got worse.

Kyoya didn’t understand how to not overstep his bounds, and he always looked amused when you started to point out that looking up your girlfriend’s home address was still creepy, even when the intent was to send you flowers. And he sent you a lot of flowers.

But no, Kyoya, having several bodyguards walk you home from work didn’t make you feel safe, especially when they weren’t allowed to talk to you.

And he just…he didn’t get it.

You wanted to break up with him, but the problem was Kyoya, when he wasn’t disrespecting your boundaries at least, was charming, intelligent, and honestly you liked him a lot. You just figured it was one of those things you would work out with him, or maybe it was new relationship jitters.

When Kyoya tried to give you a watch more expensive than your apartment, you finally, firmly, put your foot down.

“It’s too expensive,” you argued firmly.

“I already bought it.”

“Then return it, because I can’t possibly accept it.” It made you uncomfortable, how willing he was to drop so much money on you so fast.

“I can’t return it, it was personalized.” He said, frowning. And…okay, touching, but still…

You turned it over in your hand and blinked at the elegant writing

For my darling

“That’s…really sweet, Kyoya.”

He hugged you gently, awkwardly. You got the feeling he wasn’t used to initiating, but that was fine.

“I just want you to have the best.”

“I know.”

(Your first time with Kyoya is…wonderful. He worships you and breaks you apart gently and puts you back together with his touch. The whole time he looks at you like he’s having a religious experience, doesn’t break eye contact, doesn’t close his eyes.

For a minute you could have sworn he was crying)

Kyoya started inviting you to parties and events with him three months into your relationship.

The idle speculation and blank smiles from your time as a normal guest were gone, replaced with biting comments and passive aggression. It sucks, but it gave you an excuse to stay with Kyoya, and he didn’t seem to mind. 

It was nice though, watching that dark look flash in his eyes when someone made a comment.

But he kept your hand in his and doted on you in his own way all evening.

You split away from him, briefly, to use the bathroom and check how you looked in the mirror. Not a hair was out of place and you didn’t look a thing like yourself.

On your way back, not 10 feet from your boyfriend, a guest flush with bourbon and bolstered by his friends inquired “how much the Ootori runt paid for you” because he’d “pay double”. You flushed with rage, but before you could get a word out Kyoya was the one to appear and drag you out of his sight.

“I could have handled it, Kyoya.” You promised, but he shook his head.He didn’t stop, handing over the tickets to get your coats. “The party isn’t over yet, don’t you still have business-”

“They don’t deserve to look at you,” he snarled, and it was with a vehemence you never would have expected from him, it startled you so bad.

“Kyoya-”

“No. We’re going home and they’re never going to see you again.”

Oh.

You took your coat, quiet, letting Kyoya guide you to his car and opened it for you, sliding into the backseat with you.

“Are you ashamed of me?” You asked quietly, watching him roll up the tinted divider between you and the driver.

Are you going to leave me? Went unasked. That fear just…it crippled you. He wouldn’t, would he? Just because his associates didn’t like you?

“Never.” He promised firmly, pulling you into his lap. You hesitated but moved to assist, curling up against him. “I would never be ashamed of you. You’re mine.” And those words were so cold, despite the warm look in his eyes.

“But you said-”

“They’ll never set eyes on you again because they don’t deserve to look at you. I’m going to take you home and you’re going to stay there where I can keep you safe and away from their filthy eyes. Alright, darling?”

His lips were on your neck, his whisper made your bones warm. But you shook your head no.

“Kyoya, it’s fine, people are going to be rude-”

“They don’t have a right to be that way to you, not when you’re mine.”

You laughed a little, trying to diffuse the tension, squirming, trying to get off his lap. Kyoya’s arms were iron around you though, holding you tight, so tight you couldn’t breathe.

“Let go of me, Kyoya,”

“No, we’re going home and I’m going to show you how much you’re worth.”

“As romantic as that sounds, I really have to get back to my place-”

Kyoya’s grip on your jaw was punishing, his nails digging in and bruising you for for sure. 

“Shut up.”

“Kyoya-”

He kissed you harsh, it was biting and angry and you were sure that you tasted blood.

“You are mine. I’ve let you wander long enough, so be quiet and be good and everything will be fine. If you don’t then I will have to hurt you, do you understand?” When you didn’t answer right away he shook you. 

“Understand?”

[kylosrenz]

Disappointed || T.H.

pairing: tom holland x reader

warnings: angst, fluff, and language

requested: nope!

word count: 2,000+ oops

a/n: hello everyone!!! this is my first take at angst (i tried lol), so please let me know if you like this! 

my requests are open, so please send me some stuff!!! :-) (i write for tom and peter parker!)

You paced through the kitchen with a furrowed brow and an intense worry growing in the pit of your stomach, spreading like a virus. 

“Hi, you’ve reached Tom! I can’t answer the phone right now...”

You slammed your phone down on the counter, letting out a frustrated huff at receiving your boyfriend’s voicemail once again. It had been over two hours since you had last heard from him, and you couldn’t help but expect the worst. 

He was finally back in town after filming for two months and having him home and in your arms was something you had been looking forward to since the second he gotten on the plane weeks before. 

You knew he was going out with friends, just for a drink or two at the bar. You two had planned a movie night together once he got home, and he promised to be back before it got dark. You cherished these movie nights, as did he, so it was very unlike him to be late or miss them completely. 

You sat on the couch with your head in your hands, on the verge of tears. A detailed pillow fort was spread out on the floor in front of you with snacks ready to go for the Star-Wars marathon you had been looking forward to. 

You had tried to call Harrison multiple times but had absolutely no luck. 

What if something happened? 

Tom fancied a beer or two, but he wasn’t the type to get absolutely wasted often. He was too busy; memorizing scripts, traveling, and maintaining his relationships took most of his time. Not hearing from him during a night out was incredibly unusual. He always checked in with you when going out and made sure to update you at least once throughout the night, as did you when you went out with friends. It was something you both did, just to give the other piece of mind.

After another failed attempt of getting a hold of him, you knew you needed to go out and find him. You cursed yourself for not asking him the name of the bar they were going to; there were a few in town he liked, so you would have to circulate all of them.

Maybe start with The Grove? Or The Happy P-

A loud thump against the front door startled you and your head whipped to the door.

The jingle of keys could be heard followed by a string of giggles. His giggles.

You were at the door in an instant, ripping it open to reveal an absolutely plastered Tom leaning against the door frame. He reeked of beer, his eyes were hazy, and his curls had gone haywire.

As you took in the state of your man, your emotions began battling one another for dominance; the immense relief that left your body when seeing him was like a fresh breath of air. He was safe and back to your place in one piece, which is what you cared about the most. 

But deep down, you were angry. Beyond angry. You couldn’t believe he would get drunk, blow your plans, and not bother to contact you. Did you really mean that little? 

“Tom, where the hell have you been?” He stumbled into the apartment and leaned against the kitchen counter, footing off his shoes.

“At the bar, darlin’. Harrison-” he hiccuped, a small laugh leaving his lips, “dropped me off.” 

More anger. You couldn’t even begin to count the amount of voicemails you had left both of them. Could they really not find the time to get back to you? 

You wanted to scream or at least let out a frustrated groan before ripping into what you knew was going to be a heated discussion, but it was pointless at the moment. He was absolutely plastered, so a conversation about the shit-show of a night he had caused would be useless. It would have to be saved for the morning, something you didn’t like doing often. You and Tom were never the type to push things aside and instead dealt with issues head on.

He stumbled forward, pressing his head in the crook of your neck, and his arms encased you body as he rocked you back and forth, “Missed you so much, angel.” 

You rolled your eyes and pulled away, grabbing his hand and beginning to walk to the bedroom. “Come on, let’s get you changed.” 

You sat him down on your shared bed and began to pull his t-shirt off as another whiff of alcohol made your nose scrunch. You couldn't even begin to imagine the amount of liquor he had consumed.

“You know, I was thinkin’ about just going to bed, but this works too.” He gave you a goofy smile and innocently reached for the bottom of your shirt, clearly misunderstanding. 

You sighed, brushing his hands away, “No, Tom. You need to get to bed.” He pouted as you struggled to pull his jeans off, finally tossing them in the bin in the corner, leaving him in his boxers. 

He had a habit of getting hot at night and tended to dress in just a pair of boxers, snuggling close to you. You knew he would be uncomfortable if he woke up hungover in jeans.

He hiccuped again as you pulled back the covers and tucked him in. 

“Goodnight, Tom.” You turned to leave, but he caught your wrist, a deep pout playing at his lips.

“Wait, wher’you goin’?” You slipped from his grasp, ignoring the sad look on his face. 

“I’ll see you in the morning,” You shut the door behind you, resisting the urge to climb in with him. You were angry, and you knew you needed your space to think about how you felt and how you wanted to handle the situation.

You pulled some of the blankets from the fort and curled up on the couch, knowing that your sleep was going to be anything but relaxing.

A familiar hand brushed your hair out of your face as your eyes fluttered open, and you squinted slightly at the sun streaming in from the balcony. 

You blinked a few times before finally focusing on the form in front of you.

Tom had a sheepish look on his face, obviously ashamed of what had happened the night before. 

“Goodmorning.” 

You took in his appearance as he kneeled in front of you, desperately wanting to reach out and stroke his face; his voice was scratchy from what you assumed was vomiting up the alcohol from the night before. His face looked tired, small bags dressing his under eyes. He looked miserable. 

“Do you remember anything from last night?” You sat up, pulling away from his touch.

He frowned but nodded, “I remember getting to the bar and then getting home. Harrison filled me in on what I couldn’t remember.”

He pressed a hand to your thigh and sighed, “Darling, I am so so-” 

You held up a hand and cut him off. You needed to clear your head and truly think about what you wanted to say before getting into it with him. The last thing you wanted at the moment was an apology. 

“I’m too upset with you to talk about this right now. I just-I’m gonna go shower.” 

You quickly made your way to your shared bathroom, not even bothering to look at his hurt expression. You knew that if you did, it would crush you. You wanted nothing more than to forgive him and hold him in your arms, but you needed to stand your ground. How you felt was completely valid, and you couldn’t push those feelings aside. 

You replayed the night before as the hot water soothed your skin. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that your anger had almost completely faded. More than anything, you were just disappointed, and that was the worst part. You had yet to feel this way with Tom; he had never done something to cause this overwhelming emotion to consume you. You couldn’t help but let out a few tears of frustration as you got out of the shower and finished getting dressed. You hated feeling as though you had been an afterthought. 

You opened the door to your bedroom, not expecting Tom to be sitting at the end of the bed. His eyes widened as he took in your tears, and you quickly brushed them away.

It was silent, and you knew he was waiting for you to speak first. You were at least thankful for him giving you the space you needed to discuss how you felt. 

“You have no idea,” your voice wavered, fighting more tears, “how worried I was. Two hours Tom, two hours and not even a single text! All I got was your voice mail. Do you have any idea how scared I was?”

He swallowed hard but stayed quiet. He knew you had more to say. 

“The worst part about this is that I’m not even angry anymore. I’m....I’m disappointed, Tom.” 

His shoulders hunched at your words. He would have rathered your anger be the size of a thousand suns than to hear that word. It ate away at the pit of his stomach. Knowing he disappointed the person whom he loved more than the universe itself made tears prick his eyes.

You were quiet, and he took this opportunity to finally express the guilt consuming him.“Darling, I am so sorry. I know that doesn’t fix this, but I need you to know that I am.” 

You sniffled and wiped more tears. You appreciated his apology, but it didn’t explain what happened.

“Tom, what happened? This isn’t like you. We always check in with each other, always.” 

He reached his hand out for yours, and you hesitantly took it, stepping closer to stand between his legs.

“Everything was fine until my old buddies from school showed up. Every time me, Harrison, and Jacob tried to leave, they just kept buying more rounds of shots. And I just,” He sighed, rubbing his thumb across your fingers, “I hadn’t seen them in so long, and I felt rude to just leave. But,” he pressed his lips to your knuckles and met your eyes, “I know that’s not an excuse.” 

You nodded at his admission; you knew a part of him missed his life before the fame and that was something you could never be angry about. You truly didn’t know how he managed to handle all of the cameras, the lack of privacy, and the rumors that came with his job. You had seen the pressure and anxiety first hand. He was the most caring man in the world and did his absolute best to balance work and his relationships, but you knew it wasn’t easy. When he wasn't working, having a piece of normalcy was a relief for him. He loved his job but missed the normalcy he had before. It was a bittersweet feeling.

“I was irresponsible,” He hands rested against your hips, pulling you closer, “I should have checked in with you. My phone was on silent and with all the alcohol, I forgot. And that’s not fair to you.”

He brushed the tears from your cheeks, “I love you, and I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for making you worry, for disappointing you, and for messing up our plans. And I promise you,” He kissed your wrist and placed your hand over his heart, “It will never happen again. You have my word, darling.” 

You let out a shaky breath and pushed the curls out of his face as you sat in his lap. You brushed your fingers underneath his eyes, catching a tear that had escaped, “I love you, too. I trust you more than anything.” 

You pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, the corner of his mouth, and finally, his lips. “I forgive you,” You whispered against his lips before wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him with every ounce of love in your body.

His hands caressed your back, “Thank you, darling.” His finger tips brushed against your spine as he held you close. Waking up without you had felt empty, and now, he felt whole again. 

“Tom,” You spoke softly and he pressed his lips to your shoulder, a soft hum leaving his lips as a reply.

You pulled back, scrunching your nose, “You really need to shower. You stink.”

He couldn’t help but smile as his hands beginning to tickle your sides. A beautiful trill of laughter left your lips, your eyes bright with love for the man in front of you. His heart warmed at the sight; he loved you more than words. 

[grapehyasynth]

AOS Rewatch, Part 9

2x03

JEMMA WE HAVE JEMMA

The cheery little opening with Jemma’s morning routine is a fun little tidbit but also does not seem to match her reality at all? Like yes it’s meant to fool the audience into thinking she left SHIELD and is super happy but she’s alone in this sequence, not putting on a good face for Hydra, so it’s actually quite disingenuous

Hunter in his tiny tanktop. lol I wonder how much the men volunteer to show off their arms and how much is Ann Foley doing God’s work

Jemma carries a gun in her purse and the Hydra security guards were okay with it? Also, our baby Jemma carries a gun in her purse now!

She has a bunch of fancy hats hanging in the hallway of her apartment -- I want to know more

Jemma: “it’s been a tad lonely”

Coulson says Jemma is “very likeable” (thx dad)

I want to know if Fitz knew already/this early where Jemma was -- did he suspect?

Fitz calls Jemma “Jemma”, not “Simmons,” in an official briefing

Jemma likes happy hour and karaoke

Hydra’s black lab coats (in contrast to SHIELD’s white ones) are a  bit on the nose

Jemma may be becoming a better liar, but she does the not-breaking-eye-contact thing that Ward called Skye out for as a tell

Fitz is really sensitive to people keeping things from him (a natural human reaction, I think, but made that much worse by many events from last season)

imaginary Jemma speaks for Fitz’s rational side

Omg. The Fitz scenes with Ward. I can’t. Iain’s acting. I die. We all die.

Does anyone actually believe Ward was trying to save Fitzsimmons?

Jemma: “Fitz is very hard to impress”

Just hearing “nice work Fitz” from Coulson probably did so much good for our boy

Skye claims SHIELD is different from Hydra because they wouldn’t take an asset out, but that’s exactly what they do with Donnie, on Coulson’s orders...

There’s no way Donnie would’ve fallen overboard from that show -- the angle (his height, the height of the side of the ship) is all wrong

May believes in Simmons -- “She can handle it. She’s good” (love the contrast to beginning of S1 when May/everyone was like damn these two kids didn’t even pass their field test)

Fitz: “I’m not a killer” -- REMEMBER THIS IN TWO AND A HALF YEARS MMKAY?

I love that Fitzsimmons both asked about each other and were not at all subtle with their emotions even as they tried to be slick

2x04

First of all, solid ep all around

I love watching Hunter be the smooth man undercover. His flirting, his kissing, his little wink to Skye!

I think we *all* love this undercover ep with Philinda

I always think of the BTS picture of Ming and Clark practicing the dance on the deck of a ship

Coulson isn’t wearing a tie and went for a few buttons undone -- bold!

Hunter first met Bobbi on a spring night on a pier

Fitz at May flirting: “That’s alarming”

“Maybe Talbot is still pissed because we kidnapped him that one time”

I also always think of the gag reel portion of Ming and Clark pretending to make out in the elevator

So much messy tuck going on in this episode

Hunter with the soccer ball on the plane -- I want scenes of him and Fitz playing and getting yelled at. I want BTS of Nick and Iain fooling around with it between scenes.

Mack: “All my exes are awesome”

Hunter, Mack, and Trip all know each other’s past a bit (Hunter knows Mack’s romantic history, the ex with quinoa) so it’s strange to me that they never mention Bobbi by name. Obviously, again it’s meant to keep the audience in the dark, but it rings false

“You hate being alone” imaginary Jemma says -- this is SO IMPORTANT to Fitz’s characterization, how we as an audience see and understand him, how we write him -- Fitz is often written (including by me) as a recluse, but that’s more something that shows up in him after the pod, and still seemingly against his will. He likes people, he wants to be with them. He just struggles.

Fitz calling the lab “our place” <3

“Where are you based?” “Currently? About five feet away from kicking your ass.” May. Just -- what a queen.

Coulson would tap May as the next director

Fitz looks so earnest and desperate as he wishes to join in on socializing

I love Coulson outing fake May. “May hates coffee.”

May frees herself and kicks multiple asses- I repeat, what a queen.

I love the team helping Fitz fill in the blanks as they try to fix the plane. They’re eager to help him, to include him -- or maybe they’re just aware of their dangerous situation

Coulson about the 2 Mays: “I can’t believe I’m the only one seeing this right now”

You can see in one shot that it’s Ming’s stunt double, but on the whole it’s impressively seamless

Hunter does one thing and then says “Is that it? Is the plane fixed now?”

I would watch a whole hour (or a whole series) of just Nick and Iain, in character or not.

God their adorable high-five.

Hunter reaching out to Fitz with the beer <3

I love the codependence in Fitzsimmons’s relationship but I also think it’s very healthy for them to have other friends so I love the scenes with Fitz and his bros

“Moving on” -- Fitz clearly doesn’t believe himself

I can’t help thinking of the outtake of Nick salaciously licking his overflowing bottle

May has a cabin in the Australian Outback and Coulson likes kangaroos. Noted.

2x05

Another solid ep all around.

Hunter’s look of delight when Skye challenges Coulson

Poll: Do you say oh-belisk or ah-belisk? (for obelisk)

Kyle Maclachlan’s delivery of “I’m a man trying to put my family back together” is excellent

I love Fitz acknowledging that Mack is quite a man -- whether it’s him projecting what he imagines Jemma would think or thinking it for himself, it’s a nice intricacy

The whole “I still miss her” convo <3

“Shut up Ward” -- why don’t more people say that?

So the writing, essentially, is a way for the obelisk/terrigenesis/Inhuman gene/whatever to propagate? When it doesn’t succeed in a host (like people who aren’t Inhuman, like Coulson and Garrett), it needs to find a viable host and uses the writing to guide candidates there?

I’m curious what city Jemma’s supposed to be in

QUEEEEEENNNN BOBBBBIIIIIIIIIII

Did Jemma move the secret communique or did Bobbi? Either way, v slick

The first time I watched this, I definitely didn’t think Bobbi would be SHIELD. One of my favorite surprise reveals

I wonder if Jemma’s new, darker wardrobe was meant to be a reflection of her emotional state or of her trying to go under the radar at Hydra

lol that they sent at least four men in full TAC gear and helmets to grab Jemma

BOBBI AND HER FREAKING BATONS AND HAIRFLIP

And Jemma’s reaction to the aforementioned is perfect

Hunter: “So is this a group hug type situation?”

I feel like Hunter’s drinking is emphasized too heavily with no follow-through

I love Jemma rambling

OH GOD MY CHILDREN REUNITING

HE CALLS HER SIMMONS AND SHE LOOKS DEVASTATED BY THAT AND HIS SLIGHTLY TERRIFIED RESPONSE AND HER CLENCHED HANDS I DIE

I love the Bobbi/Mack friendship

I love Hunter but I really really love him being flummoxed by Bobbi

Trip knew Bobbi but not that she was Hunter’s ex?

I’m still amazed they got Kyle Maclachlan for this. He’s such a powerhouse.

2x06

I enjoy Scarlotti (the mohawked fake-SHIELD guy) -- he always reminded me of an evil Hunter

lol at the Grumpy Cat mug. There’s gotta be a backstory to why they included that. That was like a full ten or twenty second bit. Why?

The backdrop for the Belgian ambassador or whatever is a quaint little town -- he’d probably be in a city

Jemma’s trying so hard to act normal. Fitz’s adoration for her is so blatant. It’s so hard to know what to feel for these two, to know what they need. To be fair, if someone looked at me that openly worshiping, I’d probably be terrified, especially if I felt like they also hated me for leaving them

Ugh their dynamics are so complex. He accepts Mack helping him/finishing his sentences, but he gets upset when Jemma does it, even though they used to for years. Jemma, meanwhile, is overcompensating, walking on eggshells, not sure where they stand.

Hunter is so thrown off by Bobbi I LOVE IT

The Huntingbird “Don’t die out there” ritual <3

Hunter: “excuse me for doing my job thoroughly. and with style.”

Huntingbird is such a power couple

Poor May having to babysit Huntingbird; Mack has to babysit Fitzsimmons

Fitz says SO MUCH to her it’s amazing. “You gave up on me”, “You think i’m useless”, “I needed you”, “For all I know you could’ve--” -- I wish they’d had a chance/been forced to really talk

I still don’t know the truth of the Ward brothers/the well, but maybe that’s the point

Jemma brings 2 mugs, trying to reach out to Fitz, willing to accept that it’ll take work. And the way he looks when he sees her, the way he says hi -- there’s still hope

“I thought we were rebuilding trust, Coulson” -- lol you’re delusional, Ward

Hunter stalling at the safe house and May and Bobbi crashing in is so amazing

Bobbi and Hunter with the simultaneous leg sweep

Scarlotti’s knife rope seems really inefficient

Adrianne Palicki was born to be a superhero -- with her casual baton twirls and her suit, she’s so set

Jemma is trying so hard, in her own way -- giving Fitz the space she thinks he needs, going instead to Mack to thank him for being Fitz’s friend

The tears in Jemma’s eyes when she says “I know, why do you think I left?”

I’m so glad Mack and Jemma eventually get a resolution to this tension and have that lovely conversation in 3B, but UGH my heart.

Christian Ward says “At first I was ashamed” and I fully expect him to continue “...I WAS PETRIFIED”

“Tell Skye this doesn’t change anything” you’re such a gross man Ward

[dorothydelgadillo]

3 Lessons to Learn from the Slack Rebranding Controversy

“Dude, I ‘Slacked’ that to you earlier.”

Sound familiar? Unless you are still woefully morning the loss of AIM, you’re likely using Slack at work.

Having launched in 2013, Slack is a collaboration hub for work. Allowing people to work together more efficiently by keeping conversations, files, and to-do lists in a single app that operates across desktop and mobile.

We use it here at IMPACT, and quite frankly, our remote culture depends on it.

At the end of January, Slack introduced a major change. Gasp!

They decided to redesign their logo, and users around the globe were less than satisfied with the results.

I mean really, who actually likes change?

But, in most cases, the reactions went beyond not liking a little change.

There were the comparisons:

Clippy how you have changed. #slacklogo #slackbot #clippy pic.twitter.com/ra5vCQ5OOr

— Nate Schloesser (@nateschloesser) January 17, 2019

We all love ducks! 🐣🐥🦆 #slacklogo #slack pic.twitter.com/IhVlkyTg9a

— Dan (@Betraydan) January 17, 2019

wow, love the new slack logo pic.twitter.com/s0pf0AHsju

— Chris Warriner (@King_Darian) March 1, 2019

And then, the really bad comparisons:

... pic.twitter.com/cQAOH37RE7

— Christian Dakota (@codydohertyy) January 16, 2019

Yeah...that’s a little rough. But, as it goes with logo design, once you see it, you often can’t unsee it.

Finally, there were the unoriginal accusations:

Let’s play that fun new game: “Is it the new Slack logo or a random medical group?”#branding #slack #logo #design pic.twitter.com/a4RldEJRO1

— Christopher Grande (@chrisgrande) January 16, 2019

@SlackHQ #slacklogo Updated Again 🎉 But now it looks quite familiar 🙃 😄https://t.co/4SipOqCcLA pic.twitter.com/9GDXr8UBu5

— MiniCreo (@MiniCreo_Apps) March 1, 2019

I don’t know what all the fuss is about. Personally I love Slack’s fresh, unique, never-been-seen-before logo update… pic.twitter.com/tpFc9PuPGk

— Ryan (@thisisryanon) January 17, 2019

But, to their defense, Slack isn’t the only brand to ever find themselves at the wrong end of the Twittersphere.

Airbnb went through a similar social situation in 2014.

I can't get over @Airbnb's logo looking like a clinic for women's health. pic.twitter.com/fAFbrQ0dYx

— Simone Giertz (@SimoneGiertz) September 21, 2016

As did Uber in 2016.

Aww, Uber killed off its iconic butthole logo. RIP in peace little butt https://t.co/qFkFjWwRQD pic.twitter.com/LBdqacSCwR

— Casey Newton (@CaseyNewton) September 12, 2018

While some of these examples are pretty funny (come on, your 15-year-old self knows they are), others raise serious social and emotional concerns.

It proves the point that everyone can always relate a logo to something.

With that said, there are some key takeaways with Slack’s rebrand that we should all take into consideration next time we find ourselves in the same seat.

1. Have a Reason for the Redesign

This might seem obvious, but trust me when I say it’s not. Sometimes we see clients who are just bored of looking at their logo, and they want someone with creative inclinations to work their magic.

That’s never, ever a good idea.

Slack actually didn't do that. They had practical reasons behind their decision to redesign. In other words, they got this part very, very right.

Excessive Restrictions

Slack knew that their existing logo, though liked, was simply not doing the job they wanted it to.

Their first logo was created before the company launched. It was distinct, fun, and the octothorpe (a fancy name for pound sign or  “hashtag”) mirrored the character users saw when creating a channel.

But, they quickly found that they made it too complicated.

The logo was 11 different colors (holy crap! Can you imagine trying to embroider that, or do any kind of offset printing?!?).  Plus, if it was placed on any color other than white, it looked horrid, failing to contrast.

The logo also had a very specific 18º rotation.

Talk about a brand standards nightmare. I honestly don’t understand how they dealt with it for so many years.

To compensate for these difficulties, Slack developed multiple versions of the logo that worked for very different purposes.

But, this meant that every single version of their app button was different, and, each one was different from the actual foundational logo. What? Kind of defeats the point of having a logo in the first place.

With any type of brand cohesion out the window subsequent designs for the brand suffered. There wasn’t a single, recognizable style that represented Slack.

A redesign seemed like the only solution.

Having recognized and understood the visual mistakes their brand was making, Slack commissioned help from the team at Pentagram, who helped bring their new visual identity to life.

Now, I’m not saying if I endorse the new visual identity, but given the parameters listed above, Pentagram delivered.

Pentagram describes the process in a case study on their website:

“Derived from the original logo and built on a grid, the new octothorpe is comprised of two basic geometric shapes––a speech bubble and lozenge––that can be extracted and used as graphic elements. The speech bubble evokes communication and connectivity, and will form the basis of a system of customized icons, illustrations and motifs with rounded corners that echo the shapes of the logo. The new octothorpe can scale up or down to optimize legibility at various sizes.”

Visual problem = solved. That makes any designer’s heart happy.

The Brand & Company Is Evolving

Every brand goes through evolutions, sometimes those happen naturally as culture and core values progress with the changing environment. Sometimes, these evolutions happen at a specific crossroads.

For Slack, it’s the latter.

Slack is planning a direct IPO in 2019.

Visually, it’s time to stop messing around with 11 troublesome colors on an 18º rotation. It was time to get serious and step up to the plate with a recognizable logomark that can be taken seriously by investors.

When your company goes public, it enters a new tier. Your name becomes known even outside of your users and your logo has to age well.

Did Slack’s hashtag really have a 10-year shelf-life? Or maybe even longer?

Does the new mark have the potential for a 50-year heritage?

While that question has yet to be answered, it is clear that some sort of change was needed.

2. Consider Your Audience

Now, here’s where things start to get a little fuzzy. Slack’s redesign also teaches us a lot about considering your audience during a rebrand.

Yes, the new logo solves a lot of problems Slack was having with their visual identity and, it certainly helps mature the brand in the eyes of investors, but what about its users and prospects?

Here’s where they missed the mark.

Desktop & Mobile Experience

The response from Slack users was HUGE.

All of a sudden, on February 26, they had new icons across their desktops and mobile devices and it was hard to find.

We went from a very bright, argyle patterned app to one that primarily used aubergine with some small colored icons.

I used to have a desktop app that was clearly legible and distinct in my Mac’s dock. After the redesign, it became one that barely stands out unless I have a notification bubble sitting on top.

Even worse, just a few short weeks after the unveiling of the rebrand, Slack decided to switch up its look on mobile, making it difficult to differentiate from apps like Google Photos and iPhoto.

As an avid Slack mobile app user, it’s incredibly frustrating that a once distinctive app is getting lost in my “messengers” folder along with the likes of Google Hangouts and Facebook Messenger.

As it currently stands, these extremely familiar app colors are almost lost on the aubergine background. It blends into the background of my dock, barely noticeable between my Creative Cloud apps. If it weren’t for the notification bubble, I might not even notice it was there.

The jury is out on whether these changes went through user testing groups, but they absolutely should have. At the very least, the implementation of the desktop app design could have better highlighted the new logo.

Unexpected Connotations

So, some of the tweets above were pretty harsh. 

In fact, a number of people were downright offended by the imagery, suggesting that the white space of the new logo resembled a swastika.

Were they wrong? Absolutely not.

Colors and symbols have different meanings in different cultures and contexts and even if you personally do not see it that way, it does not stop others from doing it.

Again, I can’t confirm that Slack didn’t do their due diligence when it came to testing the new logo, but outcomes like this show the importance of doing so.

As a brand, you need to take into account how your symbolism can be perceived by everyone in your audience.  

  As a Designer & Brand, What Can You Do?

It’s 2019.

As a graphic designer placed in charge of visually representing a brand, you have to consider how every angle of your design is representing that brand, and what this imagery could mean in terms of backlash.

Misinformation and harassment are front and center. Gone are the days of keeping your opinions to yourself, tucked away in forums, or on a small personal website.

Slack’s logo launch endured all of it. The good, the bad, and the downright ugly.

Again, part of the strategy for any public facing brand needs to be considering how the imagery associated with that brand (as unintentional as it may be) could be misinterpreted.  No matter how good your intentions, things today can be twisted into something hideous or hateful.

As a designer can you prepare for and control how each individual interprets your work?

Of course not, but you can take some steps to try and prevent it.

Think about submitting your imagery to test panels to essentially rip it apart.

If you want to know what the Twitterverse is going to do with a potentially unsavory mark, test it. At the very least, you can prepare your teams for the potential backlash and plan on how to address these types of opinions.

This test-first mentality can help you stand strong as Slack did, as opposed to a situation like Gap, where they pulled their rebrand in the first week.

3. Pay Attention to Competition & Differentiation

One of the key components of any redesign is the ability to bring originality to a brand.

A logo should be clean, replicable, identifiable, and like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

At least, that’s the dream.

Unfortunately, reality is a bit more complicated. Hear me out.

One of the biggest areas of backlash Slack endured was their inability to be totally original.

The new logo was compared to medical groups, other tech startups, and some of the most familiar apps on our phones (Google Photos, iPhoto, etc.).

Differentiation is important, but, from a design perspective, the lack of it may have been very intentional.

People are largely attracted to what is familiar. That’s why UX on different websites, for instance, can start to look and feel eerily similar.

But, that’s actually a really good thing.

Users know exactly how to use a familiar site. It lowers friction and makes navigating easier.

Logo design trends in a similar direction.

For example, ever since Apple decided to ditch skeuomorphism for flat design around 2013, the majority of logo and app designs have followed.

In 2019, there is hardly a logo out there that hasn’t been strategically decluttered, simplified, and flattened. Consequently, everyone ends up looking the same, but still different.

I usually sort my app icons by color because it's easier to look at and remember but this is just getting confusing. 🙈🙈 pic.twitter.com/vQatzi9xJA

— Noukka 🐨 (@noukkasigne) February 27, 2019

Is Slack’s logo overly inventive and groundbreaking? You can certainly make the argument that it isn’t and perhaps there should have been more effort to help it be more distinct.

However, it is likely they’ve made the decision to be on trend with their industry.

This conscious decision to blend in might be a good look in terms of a risky investment (and their IPO status), but to users, it’s just as comfortable as the rest of their home screen.

Thinking About A Rebrand?

Do it for the right reasons.

You don’t want to take on a project like this simply because you’re tired of your logo. Make sure you have concrete reasoning for a redesign.

Make sure you are partnering with an agency that understands these reasons and owns them as if they were their own reasons for the project.

That agency should not only be well-versed in design, but aware of the competition and the community that surrounds your brand.

If they have the ability to expect certain backlash or be compared to certain brands, you can own the situation and respond with unflawed reasoning to be able to uphold your decision.

Keep these questions in mind when interviewing an agency for a rebrand:

Why do you want to work with my brand? This company is going to give your brand the biggest makeover it’s ever seen. Do you trust them with scissors and your Rapunzel-length hair? Make them prove it to you.

Can you walk me through your process? Logo design is a highly collaborative process embedded with brand messaging strategy and subjective emotions. Make sure your agency of choice understand how heavily each weighs on the desired outcome and test them on how they get there.

How will you contend for my brand against my competitors? Make sure your agency of choice recognizes your competition’s tactics and understands how to apply them to your goals.

Who will be on my team? For the same reasons as question two, make sure the team pitching you is the same team that will be delivering. You’ll need to be able to trust this team with your brand. Be sure you're comfortable from the start.

What does branding mean to you? This one is tricky. There is no “right” answer here, but instead, one that feels right to you. Hint: There is a wrong answer - a logo.

So, Do You Actually Like the New Slack Logo?

That’s a tough question that’s going to come with a tough answer.

I respect the new Slack logo. As I mentioned above, it solves a very specific set of problems for the brand. In my mind, that’s a really successful redesign.

From a totally subjective, “do I like it” emotional standpoint. Eh, it could have pushed a little further. There was an opportunity to set the trend as opposed to following it. It doesn’t exceed expectations for me -- but it certainly won’t stop me from slackin’.

All images (excluding tweets) via Slack.

from Web Developers World https://www.impactbnd.com/blog/lessons-new-slack-logo-rebranding-controversy