#she's so pretty and cool and nice and strong and sweet and smells good- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rippersz · 2 years ago

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𝙻𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊 𝚆𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜: 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜 (#1)

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Keep in mind: This is my personal view of Larissa Weems. If you disagree with any of my headcanons, then you’re WRONG. (That’s a joke; everyone is entitled to their own vision.) Enjoy.

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- Larissa’s go-to vice is a drink. Wine and coffee, mainly. She enjoys white wine like Moscato because it’s sweet, but if she’s in an angsty mood and wants something drier, she’ll shoot for red. Coffee is never taken black - there’s always at least two sugars and a bit of half & half. Not too dark, not too light. Had in the morning and with lunch. Hot chocolate is an indulgence when she needs to soothe herself.

- On the topic of drinks, Larissa doesn’t drink enough water. She knows it. Every year, at least one of her New Year’s resolutions is to drink more water. Does it happen? ….No. Although, she does keep a semi-full glass beside her bed to satiate that middle-of-the-night thirst. (Yes, she has tiredly knocked over the glass once or twice. No, she will not admit that.) Larissa also enjoys filtered water - she will avoid tap as much as she can.

- Is she a smoker? Nah. Maybe once or twice in her younger years, but she cares far too much about her appearance to form a habit. She reasons the scent will get in her hair and clothes and the effects will stain her teeth and ruin her lung capacity/health. She can’t go around smelling like a cigarette now, can she? However, if she’s ultra stressed and everything has gone to shit - she’ll either take one from a trusted colleague or close friend or buy a pack from a convenience store on a whim. It will be short lived, with one or two puffs coming out of it, before she’s stomping it into the ground and throwing the rest away (waste of money, yes, but it’s her way of punishing herself for even doing it in the first place.)

- That all being said, Larissa does have a secret attraction for those who smoke. It, admittedly, looks quite cool. Especially on the handsome/pretty punks of the world… so she’ll catch herself staring a bit too long before looking away. Some of them catch her eye and smoothly offer up a cig, but she never takes it. Attractive, handsome package, yes, but not very nice breath.

- And that’s another thing - Larissa absolutely loathes the prospect of smelling bad. She has breath mints in her desk drawer, Listerine strips in her purse, and a pack of gum in the Nevermore van. She’s a busy woman with many people to meet, so talking closely and with confidence is absolutely key - knowing her breath isn’t stellar immediately sets her off rhythm. It’s a similar thing for scent overall. People like those who smell good; especially when forced to spend hours working with them. So out of necessity and pure self-pleasure, Larissa has a small perfume collection. Though the brands and bottles are not terribly mainstream. She likes the light floral scents for work and professional outings, but for everything else, Larissa likes to spritz on a deeper, more masculine scent. Nothing too strong, but definitely a smell leaning more toward cologne. Hearing the ‘You smell good’ compliment - or any variation of it - has her smiling internally for the rest of the day. And of course, she keeps a small back-up roll on perfume (a good safe in-between scent) in her purse. She knows very well that she has to use all of the perfumes at some point, yet she cannot stop herself from buying at least one more. Call it a guilty pleasure. Safe to say, she smells bloody amazing.

- Larissa also has very steady hands. If you think that’s a weird headcanon, it isn’t. She was in the cake decorating club in her Nevermore days and found some therapeutic uses there. Getting lost in the designs- the swirls, the dots, the sweet icing- was a favorite pastime. The fact that her hands almost never shake (unless jostled) also helps when doing her makeup, typing, writing, etc.

- Of course she can just shift and put some energy into holding up a face full of makeup for an entire day, but she finds the process soothing. Doing it herself reminds her of her humanity and the little nuances that come with being a refined woman. She likes to darken her brows and line her lips and spend a minute or two perfecting certain things. For a woman who is self-critical, it is important (to her) that she tries to heal that side of herself by becoming better acquainted with her natural flaws. Call it a form of exposure therapy, as well as a calming exercise. Though on the days when she’s running extra late or is simply too tired/lazy to go through the process, she shifts into a simple but professional ‘non-makeup’ makeup look and calls it a day.

- Shifting too, has given her a few unexpected little advantages. One of the most prominent ones being the fact that she’s ambidextrous. She was originally born with a more dominant right hand, but as the years went by and she explored her ability, the occasional familiarity with left-handed people accelerated her use of that hand. Eventually, it left her with equal use and she’s able to perform tasks very well with both hands. Writing, balancing, exercising, etc. are done with about the same level of skill.

- Although Larissa’s sexuality is not clarified (or touched upon at all really) within the show, aside from her old attraction to Gomez (which I don’t fucking believe to be true but that’s neither here nor there), I do think it’s safe to say she could be pansexual. As a woman who has been surrounded by outcasts for quite a bit of her life, considering her Nevermore school days and her life as the principal, she’s been exposed to all types of beings. Larissa is not the kind of woman to be prejudiced or judgy or have a severe preference, so her attraction for others would not be found in one specific type of person. She may find herself going through spells of being more attracted to feminine-presenting people, just as she could experience a stretch of time in which she’s more into masculine-presenting people. If she’s interested in them, she doesn’t see why their gender-identity should matter so much to the point of it being a ‘make or break’ topic. She likes who she likes - simple as that. (Though that being said, I will still continue to ship her with non-binary/female characters/ocs/reader-inserts. Cuz why not.)

- Moving on, Larissa Weems is a sun sneezer. If she looks up at the sun or walks outside and it’s very sunny, or even if she peers at it through a window or sees its shine behind her eyelids, she will sneeze. And it’s not a big loud crazy sneeze. It’s one of those big inhale, eyes closed, stunted kind of sneezes where she sounds like a kitten. Small sneeze for a tall woman.

- Before being enrolled at Nevermore, Larissa was originally placed into the normie schooling system. It was rough and mean, but one good experience she got out of it was the swim team. Her stature, with the long limbs and broader shoulders, aided in her victories. The schedule and regiment was difficult, considering she had to practice and train nearly constantly, but the satisfaction she felt after winning was a glory she rarely felt when young. Her mother was… well. She was not nice. So she pushed young Larissa far more than she had any right to, but part of her older self thanks her mother for her efforts. Although it was just a swim team, she’s sure that without the discipline, she probably wouldn’t be so successful. And for as great as that time could be, it also came with its fair amount of trauma, so she doesn’t talk about it. She doesn’t often like to think about it either. Though the swimming did change her body, giving her some toned muscle and better lung capacity.

- Larissa Weems loves slippers. So soft… so comfy… makes little shuffles on the floor… yes. Slippers.

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Going through a period of immense self-hatred, so I hope this can tide a few people over until I learn that applause does not equal self worth. Love you more than I can say and I hope you’re all doing well. - Rip x

(P.s. Please do let me know if you’d like more of these.)

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#rippersz #fanfictionwriter #fanfic #fanfiction #larissa weems #gwendoline christie #wednesday larissa weems #headcanons #Larissa Weems headcanons #principal larissa weems #ripleysheadcanons #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x you #larissa weems x y/n

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barbwillbrb · 5 months ago

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My OCs!

Figured it was about time that I make a giant masterpost for all the blorbos, so here it be.

Mind you: I have dozens of AUs for these morons, so some info changes depending on the universe.

Without further ado, here's the lineup!

Name: Rackal Orro

Age: early/mid 50s

Gender/sexuality: Cisgender male; pansexual (genuinely anything goes)

Race: Half-Drow (human mother, Drow father)

Class: Oath of Devotion Paladin turned Oathbreaker or Fighter (AU dependant)

Height: 6’11”

Persona: Fairly level-headed but prone to recklessness, wants to do the right thing regardless of consequence (the second rules don’t serve those they’re meant to protect, he’ll break them), selfless to a fault, mature, calm

Quick history: Former Flaming Fist who lost his faith in the organization after losing his best friend and long-term partner, Meirin. Now a freelance adventurer, believing he can do more good on his own. Grew up in Baldur’s Gate, near the docks within a low-class family. Clairice is his twin.

Likes: People with integrity, dogs, spicy food

Dislikes: Hot weather, dishonesty, sweets

Name: Clairice Orro

Age: early/mid 50s

Gender/sexuality: Cisgender female; pansexual (if you are cool you can ride this ride)

Race: Half-Drow (human mother, Drow father)

Class: Bard/Rogue

Height: 5’11”

Persona: Jokester; laid back; avoids responsibility; very carefree demeanor.

Quick history: Joined the Flaming Fists alongside her brother and childhood friend, Meirin, but left after a year. Was part of the Guild and involved with Nine Fingers Keene, but left due to a difference in ideals. Talented thief, one of the best in the business (but not the most well known, which Clairice claims is a good thing– a well-known thief is more likely to get caught). Rackal is her twin.

Likes: Whiskey, wine, playing music (particularly lute), spicy food

Dislikes: Self-righteousness, cold weather, rain, tea

Name: Mortimer Craig

Age: Mid-20s to Mid 30s, depending on AU

Gender/sexuality: Transmasc; gay

Race: Human

Class: Wizard

Height: 6’0” in heels, 5’9” without

Persona: Nervous/suspicious, fiercely overprotective of loved ones, irritable, exhausted, dry/sarcastic humor.

Quick history: Born to a wealthy magistrate. Former Blackstaff prodigy until his father gave him to the Cult of Bhaal under the guise of an arranged marriage. Fled and been on the run since. Has a Bhaalspawn daughter, Lucille (born when he was 19/20), who he’d burn the world for.

Likes: Coffee/tea, sweets, books, warm clothes, jewelry

Dislikes: Meat, cold weather, loud noises/quick movements (spooks easily)

Name: Lucille Craig

Age: Varies depending on AU; often play her anywhere from 13-16.

Gender/sexuality: Cisgender female; asexual/aromantic

Race: Human-born Bhaalspawn

Class: Wild Magic Sorcerer

Height: 5’9” (at 16)

Persona: Curious, no sense of personal space, questionable social skills yet very friendly, comes off as very unsettling, has a strong sense of morality despite her nature

Quick history: Been on the run with her father since she was a wee babe. They’ve never settled down in one area for too long, as either the Cult finds them or people learn what she is.

Likes: BUGS, the color pink, pretty dresses, flowers, meat (especially raw), sweets, stuffed animals, conversations about the ethics of cannibalism

Dislikes: Dirt/being dirty, rude people, perfumes (very strong sense of smell)

Name: Cecil

Age: Unknown

Gender/sexuality: Male; asexual/aromantic

Race: Rat

Class: Rogue (he will steal your shit)

Height: Between 1-2’ in length from nose to tail tip.

Persona: Sarcastic, dry wit, no-nonsense, trickster

Quick history: He’s Mortimer’s familiar. Depending on the AU, he’s been with Mortimer since Blackstaff or just after leaving the cult. In either case, he’s just a rat Mortimer found and began feeding food scraps to.

Likes: Fancy foods (especially good cheeses, nuts, and bread); silk pillows; a nice bath

Dislikes: Fried foods/garbage foods (he is CLASSY); the color red; CATS and most dogs

Name: Alice Silvonne

Age: Mid 20s-30s, depending on the AU (close in age to Mortimer)

Gender/sexuality: Transfemme; pansexual (leans towards more fem-presenting partners)

Race: Human

Class: Fighter

Height: 6’3”

Persona: Sharp-witted, relaxed demeanor, fairly easy-going, pleasure-seeker, flirtatious

Quick history: Only child to a noble family; disowned by her family at eighteen for refusing to follow what was expected of her. Grew up knowing how to fence/duel, and eventually found work as a low-level mercenary. Eventually became an assassin known as “The Damsel,” with her calling card being a bloodied white rose left behind on her marks.

Likes: Very fine, pretty things (silks, lace, nice dresses); heels, jewelry, rich wines, whiskey, tropical locations

Dislikes: Camping (fuck that noise; she only boards in taverns/inns if she can help it); mud and rainy weather; getting stains on her clothes

Name: Hubie Greenleaf

Age: Mid 20s

Gender/sexuality: AFAB, genderfluid; pansexual

Race: Satyr

Class: N/A (she’s really just an herbalist/alchemist)

Height: 4’9”

Persona: Sweet, understanding, no-nonsense (will call you out on your bullshit), very forward/honest, flirtatious, demanding

Quick history: Grew up on the outskirts of a small rural village with her family (mom, dad, two brothers and a sister). Unfortunately, raiders slaughtered her family and most of her neighbors; they were driven out by several Zhentarium who were staying in the local tavern. She moved away to another village, where she runs her own potions shop and serves as the local medicine woman.

Likes: Plants of all kinds, animals, cable-knit sweaters, ribbons, tea, moonshine

Dislikes: Weak alcohol, cities, dishonesty, coffee

Name: Mint

Age: Early 20s

Gender/sexuality: Cisgender male; asexual/demiromantic

Race: Kobold

Class: Cleric (often, a Cleric of Kelemvor)

Height: 3’2”

Persona: Easily excitable, a bit dumb, selfless to a fault, kind

Quick history: After being driven from his tribe shortly after entering adulthood, he worked as a travelling cleric, selling his skills for gold and safe passage.

Likes: Sweets, bread, meat, sunshine, the color blue, shiny things

Dislikes: Mean people, getting yelled at, the dark, vegetables, getting his tail stuck in doors

#my ocs #oc lineup #my art #my doodles #my tavs #bg3 ocs #dnd ocs #oc roleplay #tav: mortimer #tav: clairice #tav: rackal #oc: alice #oc: lucille #oc: cecil #oc: mint #oc masterpost

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gayelectro · 9 months ago

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I bought a little sample of this perfume and I'm testing it on my skin today at work. I'm just fascinated by it.

I love me a very literal scent.

I don't like when perfumers describe one thing, but then I sniff it, and it's more like such a hodge podge of pretty florals that I'm supposed to interpret as a story. When I read "metallic" in the notes, I want to smell metal, not citruses that I'm told evoke metal. But I am used to little disappointments of scents being more interpretative and less literal. A lot of notes that I want so badly to smell like are things that most perfume shoppers would be disgusted or infuriated by. I understand making something more mass appealing, at the end the of the day, people who compose perfume likely want to make as many people happy with their scents as possible (and maybe even make a little profit). I've come to expect it.

But this scent, ooooooooh. They described it as being an ode to the pinball arcade. Predominately a lime cola scent with the smell of cool steel and waxed wood floors. And hey, I'm constantly on the hunt for metal scents. And as a side quest, I kinda want a nice cola soda scent. So I figured I'd give it a shot.

This scent has got me obsessed. It's not balanced in the way I was expecting or hoping for, but in having it's own unique spin, it's become something just magical on my skin.

What I was expecting: mostly a strong cola smell. Hint of lime. Steel being the second most dominate note, given that the name is "Multiball". Waxed wood floors being a whisper of a fantasy accord to tie it all together and make the scent more appealing to most folk, balancing out the sweetness and the coldness of the steel. I was honestly just expecting it to be a creamy sandalwood undertone.

What I actually got: The exact scent of my Mom polishing the lanes at the bowling alley she used to work at when I was a kid. It's such a specific smell. It's hardwood floors and whatever that grease they use is. It smells spot on to when she'd have to get out that big ass buffer machine.

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Then there's the cola note, just like her job too. It's cola out of the machine that's only going to stay well carbonated for like six minutes before going nearly flat. The syrup content is too high, something's wrong with the ratios their machine puts out for sodas, but I actually prefer it that way. It makes the soda taste richer, deeper, almost excessively flavorful. This is the second strongest note, it's always noticable but never more powerful than the greased wood lanes. Sweet but not cloying.

There's the smallest hints of lime and steel in the background. They mingle together in such a way that at least makes me get why so many things with listed metals end up just being funky citrus. It works in a way that makes me happy though, I smell both lime and steel, not just limes being odd. They're intertwined.

I love this. It's so insanely nostalgic for me. It smells sooooooooo nice.

My main concern is that I can tell that this scent could be really off-putting to others. It's almost entirely bowling alley grease. I do wonder what people would think of me if they smelled this on me all the time. Usually the "unpleasant smells" I'm looking are just ones that don't bring to mind notions of traditional perfumery and that I think smell really good, but this could potentially be far more divisive. I don't know if everyone thinks that's a good smell.

The other thing is the price point. I'm broke and cheap so I know I'm not the demographic most perfumers are aiming towards, even indie brands. I want people to get paid for their art, paid fairly, and so I don't want to imply people should lower their prices (once again, especially indie brands because a lot of them are one-man-operations). But this brand is simply out of my price range in this current stage in my life. $120 for a 50 ml is probably generally considered a good price, but it's steep for where I'm at. That's $2.40 an ml, if I did my math right. There's a $45 size option that's 15 ml, but that still doesn't sit right with me at $3 an ml for a perfume who's staying power seems to be about 4 hours with no reapplication. I just can't afford it when I'm still battling with paying for my medication.

But damn, it brought me joy. I'm gonna devour the entirety of the decant and I'll miss it when it's empty.

TDLR; Really good weird perfume. Smells exactly like the bowling alley my Mom worked at in my tweens. A lil pricey for me, but probably a reasonable price because it's just one gal doing all the work and she should get paid. I feel conflicted about buying a bigger size but it compels the fuck out of me.

#long post //#just needed to get my thoughts out #I keep thinking about making a sideblog purely for my perfume journey thoughts but I have this habit of losing interest in something almost #immediately after I make dedicated sideblogs to it which naturally discourages me because I don't want to lose this passion!#Bridge Scents #bridgescents

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xyourdeadwifex · 2 years ago

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Ever Unlocked

Part 3: Coffee & Mints

part 1: Grey Skies and Blue Eyes

part 2: Caution to the Wind

pairing: Officer!Leon Kennedy x Coroner’s Assistant!Reader

warnings: none so far! darker themes to come in time, be patient my children.

The next morning, rain still beat against the windows of Leon's apartment, the taps interrupted by his alarm, a blaring, teeth grinding sound as his face buries against his pillow. His forehead digging into the soft pillowcase. "shit-", the word is pushed through his teeth, muffled by the padding of his pillow. His hands slamming down onto the device, subsequently shutting it up. A defeated sigh left his lips, his body ached, his mind still fuzzed with the effects of last night. He could still feel what it was like to be in her home, still smell the sickly sweet scent of the peppermint tea, how after she returned from her room, clad only in some old RPD shirt and a pair of sleep pants. She looked even more stunning to him, so domesticated. He could almost imagine coming home to see her like that every night.

He wondered what she'd be like in that kind of dynamic. She was so careless, he'd have to fix that. She was too pure to have the decrepit hands of the impure world clawing at her, to have the same kind of people he put behind bars in her presence. He'd save her, she was too weak to be on her own. She needed a strong man like him to help her, to keep her nice and pristine, locked away for only his pleasure. His lips curled back, showing off his very white teeth, Leon was particular about his hygiene. He was a stickler, he wanted to make sure he looked good in front of his fellow officers. He needed this look about him, a gentleman, a good clean cut all around American man. He used his good looks, passed down from his mother and her Italian heritage. He kept a clean shaven look and made sure his uniform was always without wrinkle or spot. He was perfect, that's what he strived for. For this look of success and his boyish charm helped him get there, despite his love hate relationship with his youthful appearance.

As his thoughts streamed together, the blaring alarm popped the invisible bubble over his head. The words pouring over his face that now curled deeply into a frown. 7:15 am. He needed to get ready, he had to drive across town and pick up said, purity, as well as stop by the local coffee shop, Honey Hollow Coffee House, better known by locals as Honey Hollow. A sweet elderly woman owned the corner shop, always working hard behind the counter. Her sea green eyes always softened at the uniformed man, repeating phrases of "What a fine young boy." or "such a handsome man." as he checked over the glass casing of sweet treats.

Usually deciding on a chocolate glazed donut, but today, he'd eagerly order two, along side a mocha frappe and a single black coffee. Mocha frappe, he'd caught sight of the cup in her trash last night as he threw away the tea bag, opting to help her out in a small way to thank her for her welcome invite into her home, one that still irked him with her trusting nature. He had read the label, her name, followed by the Honey Hollow logo, a bear with his hand in a bee hive, honey running down the side and a double 'H'. Then, he saw it, m. frappe, he was not a coffee person, but everyone had heard of a Mocha Frappe before. He wondered if that's what she'd taste like, those pretty lips, just behind them tasting the bitter coffee and sweet chocolate. He'd bite back his distaste for the drink, if it was her lips he could taste it on.

His packet of mints secured in his side pocket, he hated the thought of talking with someone, maybe a retail worker, the same brunette woman he saw near daily at the gas station near his apartment, another officer and, god forbid, Chief Irons with the dreaded coffee breath. He wasn't even a fan of coffee, he kept the paper cup on his desk, the contents cooling with every passing tick of the clock. It made him fit in with his older colleagues. It gave a sense of normality to his desk, a sense of common ground. The older men had him feeling a bit insecure, he knew he was pretty, boyish and a newcomer, but the word "rookie" always left a bad taste in his mouth, worst than any mean coffee bean could.

The frozen coffee, slightly melted as he pulled up to the same dilapidated building, two tones and now familiar to his blue orbs. He scanned his eyes over the bottom floor, looking for the familiar number of 13. His fingers reaching for his phone, an older model, 'i'm here. got you a little surprise :).' a grin pulled at his lips, watching the message slide up, sliding across into her screen. A small ding caught her attention, eyes catching the message bubble that appeared at the top of her screen. 'for me? you didn't have to, Leon. :0', her fingers did a little dance before typing the message, her heart beat a little quicker, he was here. He went out of his way to get her something, no matter what it was, she was more than excited. The screen flashed once more as she places the small socks over her feet, a small image of a flower embedded into the cotton. 'i'm on my way out.', her fingers moved over the smooth screen with ease as she slipped on a pair of kitten heels.

He spotted her quickly, her door opening as he watched her quickly shut and step away from it. He noticed her lack of key, the lack of locking said door. He was going to fix that, one of the first things he'd warn her about once she was in a place where he could give her such talks. For now, he was simply trying to weasel his way into her life, into her heart. legs moving quickly as she tried to get to his vehicle and get out of the assaulting rain, she had just done her makeup and hair, now the cursed little droplets gave risk to her put together look. Her fingers slid under his door handle of his forest green jeep, popping the door open only to be met with a brown paper bag in the seat. "Oh, yeah.", Leon's fingers worked under the paper, careful not to jostle the two donuts inside or to press down on the glaze. "Got us a little breakfast.', as his sentence fell from his lips, the seat was filled with her thighs. Her face so close to his as he looked back up, he wanted to reach out and brush away the slightly dampened strands. He wanted a better look at the woman who, slowly, little by little ate away at his sanity. Her safety always now bearing weight at the forefront of his mind.

"You really didn't need to do that, Leon.", her voice was full of gratitude and a slight embarrassment. "You're right, wanted to.", he gave her a shy smile, his mind may have been made up that she was his and that she was a bigger part of his life, but she didn't know that, yet. She would, however, find that one of the coffees sitting in his cupholders bore some resemblance to her dearly beloved favorite. "That too-", he smirked, his fingers wrapping around the sweating, slightly melted drink. "I had to guess which you would like, i could've called and asked but i didn't want to ruin the surprise and we didn't really get to this topic in our, oh so daring, conversation, last night.", his smirk had melted down into a smile, watcher her eyes grow in excitement. "A mocha frap?!", she took the plastic cup from his hands, "That must've been a hell of a guess. These are my favorite-", the way her eyes squinted as she took her first sip has his stomach in butterflies, the soft painting of rose colored blush fanning her cheeks, he felt it rise to his as well. "There's no way, you must've known somehow.", despite the innocence that came from her comment, it had Leon's butterflies turning into flesh gnawing moths, his expression souring as he threw the gear shifter into reverse. "You're pretty basic, figured a girly drink would be something you like.", he hadn't meant for it to come out so bitter, but he didn't like the idea she assumed he was a creep, even though she hadn't so much as thought it so far... today.

The ride to the station was silent, Leon holding his donut in hand, resting his wrist on the top of the steering wheel. His jaw working on a piece he bit a little too big in a moment of annoyance. "Sorry, I didnt mean it.", his voice was softer than when the venom of guilt wrapped around them. "I've been a little stressed out, shouldn't have taken it out on you.", she didn't know it was her that made his stress level rise. Her careless actions and sweet character, it made Leon's blood pressure rise as he thought about something happening to her, a masked burglar slipping through that open window in her room. That same burglar seeing such a beauty wrapped in purple sheets, asleep and vulnerable to his dark thoughts- "- really, I get it. The increase in bodies has Rebecca and I near hair pulling.", she spoke softly, biting into her own donut, chocolate glaze left on the corner of her lips. Leon's tongue poked out of his own, licking any crumbs left, he thought about how hers would taste, about how he could easily reach his hand under her chin, lick away the sweet glaze that marred her perfect lips. "How is she, by the way?", he nearly had to manually force his eyes to fall away from that small speck of glaze. "She's good, she should be here today. Hopefully, we should get to that McGrath case you were needing. I can text you when the file is ready?', she glanced over, eyes taking in his uniform, the way it was slightly ill-fitted in some places, but was more filled out then when he first came to Raccoon City.

"I'd appreciate it.", he moved the steering wheel with his free hand, pulling into the large parking lot. Her car sat in the same spot as yesterday, his jeep taking up the spot next to hers. The station was nearly alive and bustling. A pair of officers stood outside under the awning, feet kicked back onto the brick wall, cigarettes hanging from their fingers as they mindlessly chatter. Thier uniforms darkening with stray droplets. "Would you like me to take you back home after your shift tonight?", his tongue brushed against his now empty fingers, cleaning away that sweet glaze. "I think I can manage as long as the rain lets up between now and then.", her eyes stared through the slightly tinted window, grey clouds swirling over the city. "Well, just message me. I wouldn't mind taking you back home.", had she looked away from the white and grey swirls she would've seen the puppyish longing that he watched her with. The glint of desperation and desire behind the boyish orbs. He was silently thanking himself for giving up his number last night. Using her lack of car as a reasoning.

"I should probably offer you my number.", his hands slipped into his uniform pocket, pulling out the older phone. "You don't have your car and I dropped you off so it's only right that I take you back to the station.", his eyes reflected her led lights, the blue lights bouncing off his orbs to give them a mesmerizing look. Not that she needed any more reason to get lost in his boyish charm. His charm was only broken by the odd behaviors he exhibited at a minuscule rate.

Yeah, he was glad, he felt like he was always arms length away, two buttons away. He assured that her message would never be a bother, that he was actually happy to have someone to talk to since he hadn't had the best luck meeting others in the area. The analog clock on his dash read 7:55am. "shit- we need to head inside.", he hissed, the moment gone now, sooner than he hoped it would be. His fingers quickly turned the key, turning off the Jeep's ignition. "Don't forget to message me once you're done with McGrath.", his hand wrapped around her wrist as she slid her legs to step out. His eyes resting on her profile, the curve of her nose the pout of her lips. Leon couldn't get enough of it. "I wont, I'll even have Rebecca pull her first.", she blushed, his rough finger pads unconsciously digging deeper into her supple flesh. "Okay...", his smile grew larger, he knew she was falling, all be it, slowly. He was patient, he could be patient...

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yandere-fics · 1 year ago

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♡ How They React To Finding Out Their Darling Is Secretly An Omega ♡

(Miriel is excluded for being the biggest omega to ever omega(Danganronpa reference please tell me you got it)Nikki gets excluded too because while she is confused why you're hiding it, it's not a big deal to her, you're her mate regardless. Sawyer is excluded because she'd already know, Nora is included because Sawyer decided not to tell Nora her darling is an omega because Nora is already pretending to be a beta anyways.)

♡ Much like when you're an alpha, if you tell her you're a beta or are pretending to be a beta she just doesn't believe you. You're so silly puppy, you just haven't had an alpha before but it's okay, this will be remedied by showing off all the strong cool alpha things she can do for you and eventually you'll feel comfortable letting your softer omega instincts show. You might just be a late bloomer and need a bit of her help so you're going to get scented alot and marked a lot and since the mark is sticking very well it must mean you are an omega even if your want to deny it. She finds out you really are an omega pretty quickly. ♡

♡ She's very pissy and pouty when she discovers you were actually pretending not to be an omega, why would you try to hide it from your alpha? OH! She gets it, her silly puppy just wanted extra attention from her alpha! You're such a cute silly puppy, she's so glad this issue has been solved, don't worry she'll make sure you never doubt your place as her omega! By pounding you until you drool all over her fingers every night. ♡

♡ She's a bit confused by you being a beta as her mate, but she'll accept it, still doesn't mean she's not going to treat you like her sweet omega, she's not as aggressive as she is about turning your from an alpha to an omega because beta's are easier to change and so eventually you will turn into her sweet omega just with her treating you as she would if you were currently her omega. She actually doesn't find out for awhile if you're taking proper suppressants, sure her mate naturally smells very good to her but she just thinks you smell really good to her, there's no way her mate would LIE about being an omega so even when all signs point to you actually being one she doesn't want to doubt you because then she'd have to get MAD and she really doesn't want to have to get mad. ♡

♡ When she finds out you were ACTUALLY an omega and just hiding it from her she's extremely pissed, no more sweet nice treatment, she wanted to treat you like her good omega but since you seem not to want to be that then you'll be her stupid little pet instead until you learn to let her take care of her omega, nesting will go a long way in getting her to be nicer again, asking her to scent things for your nest too will also help. She is going to be a bit rougher for the time being until she's sure you aren't hiding from your omega instincts. She's also super pissed you were using suppressants that could damage you, she just wants to take care of you but you were hurting your body. It's very upsetting. ♡

♡ Nora doesn't mind that her reason for living is a beta, it's probably why she was able to have you, while her apex instincts would have liked you to be an omega, since she's pretending to be a beta it's not like she would have been able to go all alpha mode on you anyways so it's only a slight bother that she can't see your nests and you have a very weak subdued scent. She doesn't realize you're an omega until she sneaks into your apartment while you're sleeping because she misses you and smells you full force with the scent blockers off for the night. ♡

♡ She's very sad but understands why you might have hid it, maybe if she had let you know she was an alpha then you'd be more okay sharing it with her but since she didn't in order to avoid scaring you she knows you might feel weird sharing with your supposedly beta girlfriend. She won't do or say anything about this, you can have your secret unless you try to escape her, then she'll have no choice but to reveal herself and mark you as her omega so you can never leave. ♡

♡ She would have liked an alpha who she could get knotted by or a cute little omega who will let her in their nest but she's still happy she even got a mate in general, betas don't usually get mates, doesn't mean she won't be trying to make you do cute omega things as a roleplay, come on she can't beat the game if her cute omega isn't on her lap, she knows you aren't really one but pretend please. Or sometimes when you cuddle her at night she pretends you're her alpha and she's your omega. She finds out you're an omega by complete accident when she discovers your secret suppressants in the stuff she packed from your apartment and throws them out thinking you must of been holding onto them for a friend or something, then you go into heat. ♡

♡ She doesn't understand why you'd hide it when it's so cute, she knows she doesn't have a knot but like she got a strap with a knot on it so please allow her to help you through your heat. If she were an omega or alpha she would never hide it, she would be flaunting it everywhere. She wants you to build nest constantly everywhere, sorry gamer chair, she will be sitting in the comfort of your nest as she games and you two will never sleep anywhere but a nest from now on. Plus your omega body is so sensitive, it's so cute. She'll also make you wear cat ears any chance she gets because you're her cute cat girl omega! ♡

#yandere oc #yandere lesbian #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere scenarios #my oc eliza #my oc kassien #my oc nora #my oc runa

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your-local-hoemie · 2 years ago

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ꕥ Genshin Impact ꕥ boyfriend headcanons, Inazuma edition~ part two.

Firstly, why is Itto so pretty in this gif???

Who gave this man the right?????

Secondly, thank you all for 100 followers!!! I honestly didn’t think anyone would really like my writing but knowing that you do makes it even more fun! And ya’ll are all so nice too like I don’t deserve this what T-T

Summary: literally the title.

Warnings: fluff, maybe a lil’ suggestive??, swearing, established relationship, Gn!reader, not proof-read.

Characters: Itto, Ayato, Gorou. (I’m classing scara (aka, wanderer) as a Sumeru citizen now since he’s a new, good boy! What i still wouldn’t give for him to crush me)

Itto~

God bless this man.

He’s so precious.

He openly adores everything you do.

Walked up a bunch of stairs without dying?

You can bet your sweet buns that this man is going to be awe struck.

He’s very strong and even though he acts like a himbo, he’s still got his head in a good place (kinda)

(He’s a complete fucking idiot)

But he is the definition of a golden retriever boyfriend!

Give him head pats and tell him he’s a good boy and he’s mush in your arms!

Boy will go all out on dates hsiduxid

Most of the time they don’t go as planned but you can’t even get mad when he still somehow manages to pull a successful “plan numero two-o” out of nowhere.

Kuki has become his go-to advisor for romance!

She doesn’t know much bless her but she knows more than him jdjdjdhdurj

Man doesn’t get jealous.

He’s too oblivious-

If someone starts flirting with you he’ll probably just join in.

“You think they’re great too?? What am I saying, of course you do! How could you not think that they’re the coolest, most awesomest partner ever!”

Bless his heart I love him T-T

He lets you polish his horns-

He lets you polish his horns.

It might not seem like much but he’s so proud of them that it’s a literal honour-

Loves it when you pet them too or put little jewellery around them!

Honestly I think he’s a really good kisser.

Don’t ask why but he just gives off that vibe.

He’s also been roping you into beetle fights.

Which he totally wins every time!

He doesn’t. You let him win occasionally.

He once found a super cool looking beetle and named it after you!!

He always makes sure to take extra good care of it just because of that.

Ayato~

Imma be honest, if I see this man pull boba out of his arm one more time and make that slurp I might lose it-

I’m not too familiar with his character but my best friend has a intense crush on him so i will get scolded if I make this is too inaccurate.

I know this sounds absurd but istg I will bet everything that this man has social anxiety.

I can smell my people.

He’s just really good at hiding it with his duties!

And you’re the only one who gets to see that side of him because he trusts you more than anyone T-T

Man is extremely busy so dates are rare but he still somehow manages to make time!

A privilege that’s only shared with Ayaka who absolutely adores you!!

She also absolutely wasn’t a little jealous of her brother hdbfhdj

He adores the little things you do!

Like, absolutely worships them!

If you decided to make him the ugliest drawing known to man kind he will frame it and look at it at least twice a day.

He taught you to play chess and much to thoma’s dismay, he taught you extremely well.

Poor boy hasn’t won in months.

Always offers you a taste of his magical sleeve boba!

How it stays fresh, no one knows.

He’s an absolute gentleman!

Hand kisses whenever he greets you, without fail!

Always insist on getting you little trinkets or jewellery!

He thinks you deserve it ok, just accept it-

Always talks about you to thoma and Ayaka!

He wants to make sure you know how much he loves you!!

He is a little possessive over you-

He means no harm by it but he can’t help his sly, mischievous side show a little bit.

“Come now, is that really any way to talk to my future spouse? Hm? Yes I did call you that, do you object, dearest~?”

Just cuts into the conversation with the offending person and grabs you by the waist with zero shame-

Do it back-

It’ll shut him up really quick~

Gorou~

Just like Ayato, I’m not super familiar with his personality hngggg.

Let’s get it out the way, shall we?

Tail.

Ears.

I NEED TO PET HIM!!!!!!

And lucky you!

You get to pet him!!

Yes he allows you to touch the ears.

Maybe be careful with the tail though cough cough

He whimpers

Beach dates aaaAAAA!

He’s constantly in work mode but he does his best to relax!

He loves making seashell necklaces with you and just taking walks together while talking!

Poor boy gets very flustered very easily.

He knows his tail gives off his emotions way too easily and you’re always super quick to tease him about it.

Evil.

He’s a thigh person and you can’t convince me otherwise.

Let him lay in your lap, please.

He’s also super ticklish-

Don’t ask, he just looks the type.

He can’t help but melt into a flustered mess whenever you’re around!

Which of course he gets teased for mercilessly by the rest of the soldiers.

But saying that, he will never be embarrassed by admitting he loves you!

He believes strongly in being open about how you feel.

Always brings you freshly picked flowers whenever you meet up!

He is really strong though, don’t be fooled by his fluff.

One of the reasons he loves you so much is because you never see him as just a pet.

He also asks you to study with him when kokomi lets him read her books!

You’d be amazed by how focused this man can get when in serious mode istg not even a earthquake could shake him.

“Huh? I love you but come on, do I really have to remind you again? It’s vital that we always keep our minds sharp even if there’s no visible threat! Leave the poor lizards alone-”

His patience with you is incredible.

He doesn’t get jealous easily but he does get a little insecure sometimes!

He’ll never cause a scene with it but he will be open with how he feels.

He hates the idea of arguing so he’ll always bring it up in a polite way!

He’s always super respectful of you and will quickly scold anyone who acts differently~

He’s a very good and very precious baby~

IM ALIVE!!! Well, kinda. I’m back at home but I got a lot of recovery to do and when I tell ya’ll that it is frUSTRATING! So writing is a good distraction!

I’m still gonna be taking my time though since my energy is completely gone not to mention I’m not allowed to get too excited since it raises my heart rate so the genshin men might actually end up killing me gdjsgHDJSH

Not that I’d mind either-

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cauldron-of-oddities · 1 year ago

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After all the amnesia talk, this little idea wouldn't leave me alone.

There she was, cackling, enjoying the fight, with wild abandon. And while not on the same side, she was also in no way attacking him or the firelights.

Where had she been? After the last time…, he shook it from him.

The boy's distracted, so much so that one of those too chunky dressed enforcers was about to take him down. Now, that would be a loss, she decided as something pulled her to him.

A single bullet, lightning fast, ends the fight. It leaves them standing across from one another on an empty roof.

“Hey there, handsome, was a good fight, right? Taking down those too stuffy Pilties, think they have the run of it here, huh? Also, really cool board, can I see it? How does it work, oohhh can I look inside it?”

“Jinx…” it comes out a bit hesitant, a bit broken. He's on his guard even as relief fills him.

“Ooohh you know my name, my reputation precedes me” That makes her happy for some reason.

He's confused for a moment. Why was she acting like she didn't know who he was? As he looks at her willing her to acknowledge him, there's no recognition in her eyes, and for all the chaos she revelled in, her eyes were light, unburdened and so very different from the last time he'd seen her.

Realisation was sinking in and with his eyes stung with rising tears.

The pretty boy in front of her isn't looking too hot, no, he looks terribly sad.

“Hey, you need a hug? hugs always make me feel better, not that I get them much, but they do.”

What was it about this boy that made her ramble so?

Suddenly, she was wrapped in strong arms, warmth envelops her, and the scent of something like wood and cinnamon and motor oil filled her nose, and she's dizzy for a moment.

It was the best hug ever her rather stumped mind provided her, even if she could feel tears in the crook of her neck. She lets him sink into her. Seemed like he needed it, and maybe she did, too.

His grip relaxes slowly, the strange relief washing over him even as the realisation her memories are gone properly hits. She also feels a bit too slight, and he worried.

She's not protesting at how long he's been holding on. No, she thinks she would be mad if it ended too soon. This person didn't want to hurt her, and he smelled nice.

Eventually, he pulls away, and she feels utterly bereft and pouts. He doesn't move away entirely, though. He runs his hands down over her arms to her hands and holds them.

Wet warm brown eyes look at her, and she thinks she'd happily drown in them.

“Are you happy?” he asks her suddenly, and what a question to ask. Why wouldn't she be?

“Yes?”

“That's good” it's an odd feeling to have your heart break and soar at the same time. She's forgotten him, but to see her so unburded, he'd take it.

He raises her hands to his lips and leaves a soft kiss, like in those saccharine sweet novels she found and would never admit to reading or enjoying. A giddy blush rises to her cheeks. This was a good development.

But why does he look like he wants to cry again?

He lets her go and suddenly everything is entirely too cold and some niggling feeling at the back of her mind. Did he know her before?

She's pulled from her thoughts at the soft hum of the hoverboard starting up. He's going to leave, this wonderful feeling of a person is going to leave.

He can't stay. He needs to be somewhere safe, somewhere to work through all the feelings where he won't be tempted to turn around and wrap her back in his arms. He flies off and desperately tries not to look back. Before he's out of earshot, though:

“If you need another hug, come find me handsome!” (and what he didn't hear, “please”)

#timebomb #ekko x jinx #ekkojinx #and so a little post fight ritual starts #time for random plot ideas #some dramatic event took place before

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solitaireships · 2 years ago

Note

How about 🍬 for whoever you feel like writing for?

~ heart-of-aspiration 📖

Emoji prompts: 🍬 - something sweet

So this one ended up taking longer than I thought it would because I ended up getting carried away. It's about something sweet in multiple meanings of the word- both literally with Bruce doing some baking and emotionally with some cute domestic things

Rating: G

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1380 words

Divider by straywords

“Are you sure this was a good idea?” Alex asks from where she perches on one of the wooden stools in Wayne Manor’s kitchen.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Bruce asks, closing the oven door.

“Bruce, you are the love of my life and incredibly talented at so many things. But cooking has never been your strong suit,” she points out.

There’s a reason that Alfred used to do most of the cooking. With him gone, Bruce and Alex have both stepped up to do more, and for once in her life Alex is pretty sure that she’s a better cook than someone. Bruce can handle the simple stuff just fine, but somehow even with a recipe his meals always seem just the slightest bit off. And that’s assuming he doesn’t end up accidentally burning or undercooking anything.

“It’s not cooking, it’s baking,” Bruce corrects.

“Right. Two completely different things that you surely won’t have similar problems with,” Alex says.

Bruce rolls his eyes. “I have this handled, love, this isn’t the first time I’ve made cookies. And when they’re good, you can tell me about how sorry you are for underestimating me.”

“Alright,” Alex relents.

If nothing else, watching Bruce mix the cookie dough has been fun. Alex always thinks that he’s handsome, but there’s something about how he looks with the sleeves of his button up shirt rolled up to his elbows. There’s a little bit of flour spattered against the black material of his shirt, an accident from him mixing the ingredients together a little too quickly.

It’s a good look for him. Maybe if these cookies come out well he should start baking more.

Though Alex still isn’t sure why Bruce decided to bake cookies today. He told her he was going to like it was something normal— like they’re a regular couple who does things like this.

It’s nice. But it’s also weird.

Alex knows that she’s not forgetting their anniversary or any other relationship milestones. It’s not anyone’s birthday. But there has to be a reason why Bruce is doing this. It's so peacefully mundane that it feels like there has to be some kind of meaning behind it.

The oven’s alarm rings before Alex can figure out why Bruce was in the mood to bake. He’s quick to retrieve them from the oven, and the smell of freshly baked cookies washes over them.

“Mmm. They smell good,” Alex comments, getting up from her seat.

“They should taste even better,” Bruce replies. “Once they cool down, you get first choice from them.”

Alex comes up behind Bruce, wrapping her arms around his middle. She kisses the side of his neck. “Thank you, bat.”

“You’re welcome.” Bruce leans back a little against her. “Are we going to stay like this until the cookies cool?”

“I think so. Unless you have any objections?”

“Hrn.”

Alex doesn’t need to see to know that Bruce is rolling his eyes. He pretends to be annoyed when she makes jokes around her being a defense attorney— though this one wasn’t intentional.

The cookies do look good from here at least. They're chocolate chip ones, and the chunks of semi-sweet chocolate dotted through them look like they’d melt in her mouth. Alex is tempted to reach past Bruce and grab one, but she knows to wait. She’s sure they’ll still warm in a couple of minutes, and there's no point in touching something too hot to handle right now.

What’s warm right now is Bruce in her arms. He always seems relaxed when Alex holds him like this. It’s nice to think that he finds her presence comforting, especially because she feels the same way about him.

“I think they’re ready,” Bruce says after a moment, turning his head so that his nose brushes against her temple. “Take your pick.”

Alex unlatches from behind him and grabs a cookie from the right side of the baking sheet. It’s warm to the touch, and she’s admittedly excited to try it. As much as she still doubts Bruce’s cooking skills, he seems convinced this will be good and she's inclined to trust him.

Alex takes a bite of the cookie, and Bruce’s attention is sharp on her.

She was right to trust him. This is a good cookie. The edges are a little crispy, but the middle is soft and the chocolate chips dotted through it melt in her mouth. It’s sweet but not overpoweringly so.

Bruce picks up a cookie of his own. “Do you like it?”

“It’s really good,” Alex says.

“I think you owe me a apology for doubting my baking skills earlier,” he teases.

“I was doubting your cooking skills. Like you said, those are two different things.”

Bruce takes a bite from his cookie, a wry expression on his face. He’s both cute and annoying when he knows he caught someone in something. “Ah, so you agree now?”

“You’re very lucky you’re pretty because you can be a pain to deal with sometimes,” Alex states.

“I know,” he replies. “But I think you’d like me no matter what.”

Alex would. It’s hard to imagine ever not adoring Bruce. And as she finishes her cookie and reaches over for another, she thinks that she’s lucky he loves her too.

“You know,” Bruce says after a moment, “I used to make these cookies with my mother.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he repeats. He nudges Alex’s arm with his elbow. “Which is why I was saying that I could handle baking these. Though I’ll admit that I’m out of practice.”

“Well, you did a very good job,” Alex compliments. "And I'm sorry about before."

“Thank you. But you don't need to apologize. You had reason to be cautious.”

They stand in silence for a couple seconds, Bruce reaching for another cookie.

“Is there any reason you decided to make them again now? Since it sounds like you haven’t made them in a while,” Alex says.

“Not really.” Bruce takes a bite, catching a couple of falling crumbs in his other hand. “I thought you’d enjoy them.”

“I do.”

Alex is pretty sure there’s more to it than that. But she doesn’t push. She knows Bruce well. Neither of them like talking about their feelings. It always feels awkward and too vulnerable. It’s easier to talk now— especially with the two of them having been married for years. But putting feelings into words is hard, and she isn’t going to force him to keep talking. That would only make him close off more.

So Alex waits. If he wants to say anything else he will.

Bruce doesn’t say anything else until he’s finished the cookie, going over to the sink to rinse any spare crumbs off of his hands. “Making these was something that we did as a family, even if my father didn’t usually help us make them. So I wanted to share this with you.”

For a moment, Alex isn’t sure how to respond. She’s never been good at emotional displays. That’s part of why she and Bruce work so well. They’re both awkward and have trouble with putting their feelings into words, but they can understand when the other is trying to show them they care in their own way.

But this is something special. She already knew that it was when Bruce said he made these with his mother, but this is even more than that.

They’ve been married for years now. Alex knows that Bruce loves her and that they’re a family. This, though, feels normal. Like something a family that wasn’t a pair of workaholic vigilantes would do. It’s soft, and it’s sweeter than the cookies themselves are.

“Thank you so much. I love you,” is all that Alex can think to say. She’s not sure that it’s enough to show just how important this is to her, but this should do the job well enough.

“I love you too,” Bruce says.

“Maybe next time we can make them together,” Alex suggests.

He gives a dry laugh in response. “You hate cooking with people.”

“It’s baking, remember?” She moves to give Bruce a quick kiss. The taste of chocolate lingers on his lips. “And if it’s a family tradition, I’m willing to give things a shot if you are.”

#my writing #asks #heart-of-aspiration #🦇 batrimony #♠️ alex #🦇#thanks for the ask!#i think this might be the longest thing i've written for here so far #safeship #selfship #selfship fic

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scrapsovereign · 10 months ago

Text

That One Time I Got Kidnapped By An Evil Vampire Lord Ch. 4

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57838303/chapters/147743656

Summary:

Rion successfully helps distract Mackenzie from her panic attack.

Pairings: past Ascended Astarion x Evil male!Tav, Ascended Astarion x Original Female Character

Trigger warnings/Tags: cheating, intimate partner violence, abusive relationships, medical settings, body shaming, internalized fatphobia, referenced sexual assault, panic attacks/PTSD episode

Downtown Seattle, Washington

The Fairmont Olympic Hotel

Thursday, August 24th

7:30 PM

Mackenzie’s breathing is the only thing that she can feel her body doing at first. Then it’s the strong arms that wrap around her, the warmth of someone’s lithe, toned chest that presses against her shoulder. The fingers that grip hers. The upwards lurch of the elevator, the sensation of her leg muscles propelling her forward as she is guided down the quiet hallway.

The quiet feels comforting. Nice.

So does the embrace of the man who fumbles around in his pockets, searching for the key to open the door in front of him.

Mackenzie scowls. What is she doing here with this guy? Who is he again? While his name is on the tip of her tongue, just barely out of reach, she knows for certain that’s not Ari. He’s too pretty and well-dressed. He smells too good to be Ari..

Mackenzie feels a tugging at her brain. The man she’s with- his name was pretty weird, but he goes by something that sounds normal when you say it. Does it start with an A? Or maybe it was a R?

He holds the door open for her and she feels as if she is almost fully back in her body, but she needs an anchor. She needs to stop the emotional escalation before she is a quivering, sobbing mess on this man’s hotel room floor.

The gorgeous man cups his elegant hands gently beneath her face, looking down into her eyes to search them for answers.

“What is it that you need most?” He asks gently, like he’s in love with her. Like how she wishes Ari would speak to her.

“Cold water,” Mac hears herself say. She’s not sure why, but she knows it’ll help.

He raises a perfect silver eyebrow. “As in…to drink?”

“Shower,” Mackenzie says robotically, walking towards the bathroom. She places her palm face down on the countertop for support as she leans to the side. An arm that doesn’t feel like her own un-does the buckles on the ankle straps of her shoes and slips them off.

She steps into the combined shower and bathtub, fully clothed, staring blankly ahead at the chrome fixtures. Her hands hover above the knobs, trying to comprehend how to turn the thing on. The man steps in with her as she fiddles with the knobs- is his name Aaron? No, that’s not right…

“Are you quite sure you want to- GAH!” He yelps, his body tensing in shock at the cold water that rains down upon them. He clutches onto Mackenzie reflexively, looking up at the shower head in terror.

The contrast of the cool water tracing rivers between warmth of their wet bodies pressed together brings Mackenzie back within herself.

“S-shit, that’s cold,” she complains, her hands frantically turning and twisting the knobs to turn the shower off. It takes a few seconds too long, but she accomplishes it.

Her eyes flicker up with hesitation at the man whose name sounds-like-but-isn’t-actually Aaron, his perfectly styled silver curls slicked straight back, his carefully applied eye makeup running slightly down his cheeks.

She isn’t sure how to read the expression on his face, which is something she’s usually amazing at. Mackenzie can look into anyone’s eyes and know exactly what’s there, but this man’s walls are up high and tight, guarded with the utmost vigilance. Despite that, she can at least tell that whatever he’s feeling, it’s intense. His ruby irises form a thin band around his blown out pupils, his gaze half-lidded, darkened, and dangerous. His plush, flushed lips are slightly parted, his sweet, cool breath escaping him with an audible pant.

Is he mad at her? Mackenzie scrunches her eyes closed. She could kick herself. He’s probably not too happy about how she got him and their expensive clothing wet, Ari would have been pissed…

Mackenzie cringes, bracing herself to receive his well- deserved ire. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

He closes the small gap between them and cages her fully against the marble of the bathroom walls, pressing his lips firmly to hers.

Mackenzie tenses, frozen as he kisses her.

Oh.

Well…maybe he’s not mad at her, then?

His lips move against hers, teasing her, tempting her to play along. She briefly considers allowing him the chance to do so. Nobody’s ever kissed her like this before, with so much skill or passion. She’s intrigued by this display of his talents, but it’s not enough to quiet the demands of her conscience to resist.

When that doesn’t make her yield to him, he groans sinfully in pleasure, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips roll forward. She feels something hard in his pants poke into her groin and audibly gasps. Her open mouth is not an invitation but he interprets it as such, plunging his tongue between her lips. He makes a noise that Mackenzie can only describe as obscene as her body goes slack and surrenders to him.

This is wrong, so, so wrong. She should tell him to stop.

She is scandalized by her lack of self-control when she finds she cannot.

Their tongues glide together fervently now, Mackenzie enthusiastically kissing him back. He draws her tongue into his mouth and fellates it, using the lewdness of his actions to distract her from the hand gliding slowly up her thigh.

Rion (that’s his name!) swiftly rucks the hem of her dress up around her waist with a practiced hand, roughly yanking her exposed thigh towards him, her ankle hooking around the small of his back. His hips snap forward as she opens for him, grinding his fully erect, rock hard length against the sweet spot between her legs. She cries out, her blunt nails clawing at the cool marble behind her, desperate to find a surface on which she can steady herself.

“Rion,” she exhales as he kisses a searing trail along the hinge of her jaw. “We need to…we need,” she stutters breathily, the word ‘stop’ never reaching her lips as she imagines it flashing in bold, bright red letters.

“To get out of these wet clothes? What a splendid idea, my treasure…that is, after I taste your divine nectar. You’ll allow me this treat, won’t you?” he purrs sensually, his soft lips ghosting the words into the supple curve of her neck. Mackenzie nods eagerly as she huffs out her consent, feeling her sex flutter in anticipation of his filthy promise. It’s been ages since anyone’s gone down on her, and if how he kisses is any indication of what else that tongue of his can do…

Her thoughts are arrested as he licks a broad, diagonal line up from her throat to her jaw, drawing out a pathetic mewl from her. He huffs a hungry, shuddering breath when she tilts her head back, allowing him greater access to the fluttering of her pulse that thrums so deliciously for him.

Mackenzie feels the prick of two sharp points against her skin as his mouth opens wide.

An unexpected, jarring series of knocks is heard at the hotel room’s door, breaking the spell of his seduction.

Rion snaps his mouth shut and clenches his jaw, growling in irritation at the interruption. He takes a moment to cool his temper, mumbling a series of strange words to himself as he swiftly exits the bathroom, closing the door with care behind him.

Mackenzie heaves out a sigh of relief. She clings to the shower walls, overcome with gratitude…and disappointment. Partially from her inability to resist his temptations, but mostly that she didn’t want him to stop.

How in the hell had he aroused her nearly to ruin after being on the verge of a meltdown?! Aside from the fact that her dear husband was usually the cause of her anxiety episodes, after one of these she doesn’t want Ari to touch or perceive her, sometimes for days .

With Rion? She was ready to go in less than 60 seconds.

Her blood runs cold and her stomach turns as she realizes what would have happened if they had not been interrupted, it was too close of a call.

She knew she was nearing the point of no return when he turned his attention to her neck, hovering over her pulse like a sexy vampire. However, any and all willpower she possessed to resist him had abandoned her when the vibrations of his irritated growl sent a ripple of pleasure throughout her body. Slick warmth pooled low in her abdomen, her core aching to be filled with the velvety hardness confined within his trousers.

Had someone not come to the door, Mackenzie is certain beyond the shadow of a doubt they would have fucked right there and then, their wet clothes halfway peeled off in the shower stall.

And again in the shower, hot water running over them with Mackenzie lifted up against the marble shower walls, in the bathroom with her bent over the counter as he pounds into her from behind, her legs thrown over his shoulders while he takes her on the nearest flat surface in the hotel room, and finally with her knees pressed up to her ears when they make it to the bed…

It can’t happen. She won’t let it.

Mackenzie sees two clean, white robes hanging on the back of the bathroom door, hung invitingly on display. She slips one on as she hears Rion make polite small talk with the hotel staff person in their room. She takes a moment to examine herself in the mirror, comb fingers through her frizzy hair in an attempt to look presentable.

She's glad she didn’t wear more than a drop of foundation mixed into her sunscreen and some concealer to hide the dark circles under her eyes. She would have been a complete mess if she’d applied the amount of makeup Ari was always pressuring her to put on. She would often hold back from rolling her eyes when he would tell her she needed to be cuter, always hold her tongue when she wanted to reply ‘With what time and whose money?!’.

She cracks the door open when their visitor leaves, getting a better look at her surroundings.

Mackenzie’s mouth falls open in disbelief. Holy hotel suites, Batman. She knows what room they’re in and how much it comps for- it was just barely in budget for the anime convention’s guest hospitality room. What she doesn’t want to know is how much he paid the hotel staff to bring the dinner they’d ordered up to where he was staying.

Her heart flutters watching Rion busying himself while he waits for her to join him. He pops the cork on a bottle that is real champagne (not just sparkling wine), pulls out a chair for her to sit in, and places the extra tableware on an accent table to make room for the feast he’d had brought up to the room.

There’s one detail that’s out of place - how did he get dry and clean his makeup off so quickly? His clothes are clean and pressed, his gorgeous face clean of the heavy eye makeup that ran in the shower, the long, silver curls that he tucks behind his ear cascading over his shoulders in perfectly styled waves.

A flag of skepticism starts to nag Mackenzie. Curly hair takes so much longer than a few minutes to dry and style. She knows it personally, having abandoned her formerly copper waves that she used to wear naturally with pride. For the last year or two she’s fried her hair to Jesus with bleaching, toning, and straightening it into the long ash blonde that Ari prefers.

He spots her spying on him from around the corner, smiling at her softly as she steps out from behind the wall and makes her way over to him.

“Normally they don’t do...this,” Mackenzie says, inclining her head towards the meal laid out before them. “I’m shocked they didn’t have you order from the room service menu.”

Rion’s soft smile turns to a satisfied grin as he takes a seat, placing a white napkin atop his lap. “There’s benefits to being observant of the small print. A large amount of coin doesn’t hurt, either.”

Mackenzie joins him, mimicking his table manners. She stops mid-napkin placement when she sees the folded up note placed between them. She reaches for it, stopping before she touches it, looking up to Rion for permission to read it. He smiles warmly with a nod.

The contents read: “Thank you for getting my pronouns right. You’re the only guest who’s done that for the last month. The dysphoria has been real lately, and you’ve helped me find some joy today. Hope the meal is to your satisfaction. Enjoy! - R.H., Assistant Manager. PS - Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable! Ext #4928”.

“The only person? What the hell?” Mackenzie exclaims as she looks over at Rion, who seems extremely pleased with himself.

“I’m as shocked as you are. It’s basic, darling. And they made it painfully obvious, what, with that little gold pin they had,” He says as he leans in as if to divulge a secret. He takes a sip of the bubbly, the drink getting caught in his throat as he motions before him. “Please, eat.”

Mackenzie was waiting for him to see how he does things, but she complies with his wishes, picking up her fork and knife, cutting into her scallops.

She spears a portion of the seafood on her fork, mulling over her current circumstances. She furrows her brow, taking a deep breath as she stares down at the impeccable searing on it.

“This is a date, isn’t it?” Mackenzie asks flatly, her eyes flicking up to Rion, catching him mid-bite. He sets the fork down soundlessly on his plate, his lips twisting into a smirk.

“Oh my, it seems the beautiful heroine has uncovered my wicked plans,” he drawls, ruby eyes sparkling with mischief at her from across the table.

“I do hope this doesn’t cause any issues between you and your…’ room-mate ’,” he enunciates the last word of his sentence in mockery of how the other server described the relationship between Mackenzie and Ari.

Mackenzie grimaces, feeling her appetite leave her. “The reason Ari’s given me for calling me his roommate is that he wants to appear single, so his streaming career isn’t impacted negatively.”

Rion huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes. “You must know that’s an excuse, and a poor one at that. One’s relationship status does not dissuade the other party from finding them entertaining.”

“And while we’re on the topic of the ridiculous. Streaming? What in the nine hells is that? Does he dance around with a ribbon for people’s enjoyment like a circus animal? Spend his days wading through rivers and creeks looking for the sense he’s lost?” He scrutinizes, making a sour face when he bites down upon the meat in his mouth.

“He streams video games on Twitch, and he’s done some consulting work for game companies, some play testing. He’s got a huge following with the 14-24 year old crowd doing Minecraft speed runs, but lately he’s trying to branch out into other things.” Mackenzie explains, twirling her fork with the scallop bit impaled on it in the air.

“This weekend he’d planned to start a playthrough of a game that he’d previously been under an NDA with for Larian Studios. I hadn’t heard of them before I met him,” She elaborates before she finally takes a bite of her entree, feeling her gag reflex kick in when the flavor of the food graces her tongue.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbles, rising abruptly, looking for a place to spit the seafood out. She makes her way to the kitchenette and returns to see Rion looking down at his meal like it was crawling with bugs.

“If anyone should be apologizing, it should be the chef,” Rion sneers. “I’ve suffered much worse at a far greater price.”

“Now, where were we…ah, yes. Your useless roommate-slash-husband and his job sitting around playing games while you’re on your feet all day, slaving away at the physician’s office. Is his occupation at least fairly lucrative? Does he contribute any coin to your household?” Rion arches an eyebrow, drumming his fingers expectantly on the table.

Mackenzie sinks down into her chair. “So…that’s a sore spot between us. I pay rent, most of the utilities, my own cell phone, groceries, and the car stuff. He pays the internet bill- well, he doesn’t pay much, he has a sponsorship deal- and he pays for his own phone, the things he wants to buy. He said he’s saving up for his own car, but I’m not sure if that’s really true.”

Rion leans back with an unreadable expression, crossing his ankle over his thigh. “And what of the division of labor?”

“If I don’t do it, it doesn’t get done,” Mackenzie sighs out, sagging her shoulders.

Rion licks his lips, unimpressed. His next question would have been if Ari’s good in bed, but little does Mackenzie know that’s an answer he already has.

He rises, champagne glass in hand, the sudden movement startling Mackenzie. He drags a dining chair directly next to her, sits too close with their shoulders overlapping, his lean and strong legs entwining with hers.

“And then there’s the matter of how horrid he’s been to you,” He murmurs, lifting her left hand to scrutinize the ring that encircles the fourth digit.

Mackenzie’s throat tightens, the sting of tears filling her eyes.

“What did you mean earlier when you said he’s going to kill me?” She looks up at him, her eyes sparkling in the dwindling light of the evening.

Rion pauses, rubbing his thumb overtop the softness of the back of her hands.

“It wasn’t your exact situation, but I’ve been hi- with men like him. I too have been stuck in the cycle of heartbreak, promises made, and promises broken. The lies and the abuse only escalate. One day he’s upset because you’re not standing up straight enough, and then the next he’s trafficking-” Rion pauses mid-sentence when his voice gives out. His eyes shut tightly in pain for only a moment, his fingers interlacing with Mackenzie’s.

He sits up straight and sniffles, draining the champagne in his glass. He transforms then, his princely airs returning as he looks out over their barely eaten meal with contempt.

“You’re staying here tonight, with me. I won’t take no for an answer,” He commands, his furious eyes snapping up to meet Mackenzie’s.

Mackenzie gulps audibly as she feels his hand grip hers with calculated pressure, considering her options.

Option number one. Politely excuse herself to the bathroom, call Amanda to come pick her up and drive her back to her car. It’ll take awhile from Amanda to get in from where she lives in the middle of nowhere AKA Hobart, but she knows Amanda’s good for it. She can pretend she’s going to get ice when she slips out right as Amanda’s pulling up, jump into her car, and never see this man again. She’ll probably have to help clear a pile of half-finished SCA garb off the bed, but she’ll have a bed to sleep in, at least.

Option number two. Slip away using the same ice excuse, walk back to her car, drive to the parking garage at work. Sleep in her car, use the shower in the combination storage room/staff poop bathroom to get cleaned up before her shift starts, and go about whatever fresh hell her work day brings.

Option number three. Stay.

Normally, she would select option two, not wanting to inconvenience anyone.

Her mind drifts back to the latter. It’s definitely not the smart choice. If her current circumstances were part of a show she was watching, she’d be on the edge of her seat calling out, “Run, bitch, run!”. However. She really, really wants to see what happens with option three. Even if it’s the stupidest one.

Mackenzie nods stiffly. “Yeah, I think I’d like that,” she admits, her voice cracking as she speaks.

The look of approval on Rion’s face both scares and arouses her.

“Excellent. I knew it was an offer you couldn’t refuse,” he purrs, massaging comforting circles into the palm he had gripped so tightly.

Mackenzie feels her pocket inside the silk dress vibrate- she thought she turned that off?

She leans into Rion unintentionally as she reaches for her phone, which he takes as an excuse to haul her up to sit in his lap. Her ears turn hot. She could swear to God the butterflies in her stomach are actually the two bites of seafood she’s had, coming back with a vengeance.

The notification is from…Microsoft Teams?

Oh, it’s Rob!

“CHEEZY MY DUDE. Guess who has two thumbs and has more lumpia and pancit AND LECHON than they could eat????”

Mackenzie feels her mouth water at the mention of lechon, typing out a reply when his next message pops up.

“THIS GUY!!!!! /airhorn noises. Marisol really loaded me up. I got three huge takeout containers and it’s going to go bad before I eat it all. Do you want sum? I herd you liek Filipino foodz…” he types, following up with a picture of an animated Mudkip.

Rion snorts at the strange blue creature wiggling on the screen as he reads the messages with her. “Cute. An inside joke between you two, I assume?” he sighs, nuzzling his head against her shoulder like an overgrown cat.

Mackenzie could be shocked that Rion’s only five years older than her and doesn’t get the reference to the old memes, but with his refined manners and posh British accent she isn’t. Not everyone grew up and remains chronically online like her tiny circle of friends.

Her stomach grumbles loudly, protesting the excess of everything she’s imbibed this evening that isn’t a solid meal.

“More or less. Hey, are you hungry?” She cranes her head to look down at him.

“I could…go for a nibble,” Rion flirts, displaying a set of long canines that Mackenzie hadn’t noticed before. “A little something to whet my appetite for later. Any local delicacies you can recommend? Aside from yourself, of course.”

Rion smugly peers up at Mackenzie, flushed and uncomfortably squirming in his lap.

“Hmm. Perhaps a dish that isn’t also local to the Gate?” he offers without thinking about the context of his words.

“The Bay Area, huh?” Mackenzie muses, leaning away to get a better look at the mortified look on Rion’s face. Her Instagram feed is sometimes full of suggestions of all the delicious food available further down the west coast. She doesn’t know what else he could get in Seattle that he couldn’t get there…aside from the renowned Marisol’s home kitchen.

“I’m downtown right now at the Fairmont. Should I come to you? When’s your breaks/lunch?” she types back, hoping he doesn’t have anything to say about her current location.

“...Fairmont? Did you win the lottery and not tell me?!???! RUDE,” Rob messages. “Nah, the ole battleaxe canceled me and forgot to tell me and isn’t floating me anywhere else tonight THANK GOD. So I’m chillaxin here, collecting the fruits of last nights….shall we say…….deeiiirtay deeds.” Rob sends a message with a GIF from the movie “Joe Dirt”, immediately sending another GIF of chocolate soft serve being squeezed out of a tube.

“Gods, eugh! Is that what I think it is?” Rion angles Mackenzie’s phone towards him in disgust and fascination, Mackenzie lifting it above her head and out of his reach.

Mac’s backside starts to get that pins-and-needles feeling and she re-adjusts herself on Rion’s lap.

“I don’t wanna be that person who just invites other people over to a two-person party, but Marisol’s cookin’ is a local legend up the hill, and I’d love for you to meet Rob. You up for some company?”

Rion chuckles, a villainous sound that sends shivers up Mackenzie’s spine. “In the presence of a delightful treat such as yourself? It’s difficult to be anything else.”

#astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #ascended astarion #astarion x oc #bg3 isekai fic #bg3 isekai #isekai tav #isekai

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maria021015 · 1 year ago

Text

SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 41 AHEAD!

On a dark desert highway - cool wind in my hair, warm smell of colitas rising up through the air. Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light. My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim. I had to stop for the night.

There she stood in the doorway. I heard the mission bell, and I was thinkin' to myself, ‘This could be heaven or this could be hell’. Then she lit up a candle, and she showed me the way. There were voices down the corridor. I thought I heard them say…

‘Welcome to the Hotel California! Such a lovely place - such a lovely face. Plenty of room at the Hotel California! Any time of year, you can find it here’

Her mind is Tiffany-twisted. She got the Mercedes-Benz. She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys that she calls friends. How they dance in the courtyard - sweet summer sweat. Some dance to remember, some dance to forget. So I called up the Captain, ‘Please bring me my wine. He said, ‘We haven't had that spirit here since 1969. And still, those voices are calling from far away. Wake you up in the middle of the night just to hear them say…

‘Welcome to the Hotel California! Such a lovely place - such a lovely face. They're livin' it up at the Hotel California! What a nice surprise - bring your alibis.’

Mirrors on the ceiling, the pink champagne on ice, and she said, ‘We are all just prisoners here of our own device’. And in the master's chambers, they gathered for the feast. They stab it with their steely knives, but they just can't kill the beast. Last thing I remember, I was running for the door. I had to find the passage back to the place I was before.

‘Relax’, said the night man, ‘We are programmed to receive. You can check out any time you like but you can never leave!’

The breaks squealed eerily as the bus pulled into the front lot of an old motel. A brightly-lit, flickering neon sign notified them that this particular establishment was called ‘Motel Glen Capri’. Unfortunately, it seemed as though a more fitting name would have been ‘Motel California’, after the similarly-named song ‘Hotel California’. ‘Intertextuality’ - Zaida mused internally, remembering another one of her flashcards. As the brunette peered out the window to the almost completely empty parking lot, she felt ghostly fingers trail a path down her spine, sending goosebumps rippling over her skin. Out of all of the motels Finstock could have chosen to stay for the night, it had to be here. At least their luck of late had been consistent. Consistently awful , that was. She didn’t know why she had expected anything more when hearing that the meet was pushed back due to the extreme weather warning.

“There’s only one other car parked - and it’s probably the person who works here.” She mumbled to the werewolf beside her. There were multiple echoes of slightly-differing but equally strong emotions that knocked against those tightly shut doors in her mind. Something bad had happened here. She could feel the imprint of it, left behind like fossilised tracks. "Maybe there’s a reason."

“It’s not like we have a choice,” Isaac shrugged and rose from his seat to follow the stream of students fast-emptying the bus. “Come on princess, you can put up with it for one night.”

She rolled her eyes at his teasing but followed him regardless, slinging her duffel bag up and over her shoulder. The moment her sneaker-enclosed feet landed on the solid ground, that knocking grew louder.

“...I've seen worse.” Scott tried to be positive as he stood on the asphalt overlooking the dungy building.

“Where have you seen worse?” Stiles scoffed in exasperation, hating the look of the place almost as much as Zaida.

“Listen up! The meet's been pushed 'til tomorrow. This is the closest motel with the most vacancies and the least amount of good judgment when it comes to accepting a bunch of degenerates like yourselves!” Finstock announced in his booming voice as he addressed them all. Ah, so that was why they were here instead of the forest down the road - which would have been a better place to stay in comparison. Maybe the forest animals decided they didn’t have enough room. “You'll be pairing up - girls with girls and boys with boys - so choose wisely. And I'll have no sexual perversions perpetrated by you little deviants! Got that? Keep your dirty little hands to your dirty little selves!”

“Coach, there are an odd number of girls!” Zaida pointed out. The man narrowed his eyes, scanning over the group as if he was counting to make sure she was telling the truth.

“Right,” He nodded when he had finished. “You can pair up with Danny then, thanks for volunteering.”

“Making Danny pair up with a girl just because he’s gay is clear discrimination.” She pointed out mischievously for the sake of arguing with the man. Truth be told, she was grateful it was at least Danny and not Ethan.

“Don’t you start with me, missy.” He pointed a finger at her. “The last time somebody suggested such a thing - thanks McCall - I proved everybody wrong! I love the gays! The man I slept with to prove I wasn’t homophobic was gay - and he was a great guy, bought me dinner and everything.”

“Coach-” Stiles began with a snicker but Finatock blew his shrill whistle to shut him up once more.

“That’s enough!” The man glared at them all and held out the keys he had collected from the front desk for them to take. “Everybody take your keys and leave me alone! If somebody wakes me up from my court-mandated eight hours of NyQuil-induced sleep, there better be a fire. Except for you, Greenberg! Even if the sky was raining down army tanks filled with the living dead, I wouldn’t want you to wake me.”

The group quickly dispersed, undoubtedly discussing amongst themselves how they were going to sneak into each others’ rooms and whatnot. It left Zaida and Lydia standing beside each other, both girls unsure about approaching any closer.

“Lydia...?” Allison turned back to frown at them in questioning. “Zaida?”

“I don't like this place.” The redhead pursed her lips into a thin line with wary green eyes.

“I don't think the people who own this place like this place.” Allison chuckled, brushing off the girl’s concerns for a superficial dislike of a hotel that was anything less than five stars. Normally Zaida would make the same joke, but Lydia was right. The thick and palpable negative energy that shrouded the motel only seemed to grow stronger the closer she got. Maybe it was best if she didn’t admit to that aloud though, considering Lydia was already concerned and they’d have to stay here through the night either way. “It's just for a night.”

“A lot can happen in one night…” Lydia murmured and Zaida drew the girl’s hand into hers, giving her a reassuring squeeze before tugging her forward. Inwardly, she reinforced those doors in her head until the knocking quietened and faded.

“Come on, Lyds. I want to get to my room and freshen up before Danny claims the shower. I have a feeling he has a rigorous pampering routine.” Zaida grinned, attempting to make light of the situation for her friend’s sake.

“With skin as clear and hydrated as his?” She arched a delicate brow. “Definitely.”

As it turned out, Zaida should have been more worried about Ethan and Danny claiming the room to ‘catch-up’. She had walked in, screamed an uncomfortable apology, and walked straight back out with her cheeks burning. Well, so much for claiming the bathroom. After what she witnessed she was sure she didn’t want to touch anything in that room.

Allison and Lydia had both expressed their desires to shower (though the latter may have changed her mind when she saw the state of the facilities), leaving Zaida with two options. She could seek out Isaac’s room and undoubtedly face many teasing jokes and be subjected to Boyd’s deadly mood, or she could swallow her pride and hope that Scott and Stiles would allow her to use their shower. She went with the latter. Her stomach twisted with dread as she knocked on their door and waited for one of them to answer. The blood in her ears beat to the thundering of her pulse, quickening as her thoughts ran rampant uncontrollably. She couldn’t shake the image of Stiles and Lydia sat beside each other with Scott and Allison behind them.

Zaida had never seen the sense in Lydia and Stiles as a match, but now that she knew her own feelings for the boy, perhaps it was always just a subconscious hope that they would never eventuate. One thing was for certain, she held a biased opinion. Coming from an outsider's perspective, she supposed it made sense. The boy had been pining over Lydia for years, and the girl was finally shedding her shallow and vapid self in favour of a new and improved version. In the movies, that kind of a redemption arc would guarantee the boy finally getting the girl. Hearing them work things out together on the bus made Zaida realise that maybe one of the best things about herself and Stiles - their investigative bond - wasn’t only unique to them. The feelings of betrayal, inadequacy and jealousy only rose to the surface once more. Looking on at all four of her friends together and knowing Lydia could easily replace her role in the quartet planted the worry that things wouldn’t have been all that different had Zaida never moved to Beacon Hills. Maybe one day they would realise that too. That they didn’t need her. That she didn’t matter anymore…and maybe she never had.

Her spiralling thoughts and churning guts were silenced by Stiles opening the door to the motel room. The sight of Stiles with wet hair and only a towel wrapped around him, hanging low on his hips, stirred a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. Her lips parted in surprise and she couldn’t stop her eyes from roving the planes of defined muscle of his torso.

“Zaida? Hey, what are you doing here?” The boy's brows furrowed slightly in questioning and her heart only thumped louder in her chest when he leaned against the door frame with his forearm, displaying the veins that webbed prominently beneath the skin.

“Oh, uh…I was just going to ask if you guys were using your shower - which, clearly you were, and are not currently.” She stumbled over her words at a far faster pace than usual in her flustered state.

“Scott already had one and I just finished. Why, did Danny hog all the hot water?” He jested, unaware of her current predicament.

“He never made it to the bathroom, actually. But from the looks of what he and Ethan were getting up to, he will definitely be needing one later.” She raised her brows and swallowed her rising disgust at the memory of what she’d walked in on.

“Oh God, my condolences.” Stiles wrinkled his nose in an expression mirroring how she felt. “You can use ours.”

He finally stepped aside, moving those distracting muscles away from her line of sight and allowing her to function normally again - or semi-normally, at least. When she stepped further into the room Scott shot her a knowing look and she glared at him. Damn those werewolf senses. Dragging her duffel bag with her into the bathroom, Zaida peeled off her musty bus clothes and stepped beneath the hot shower spray. The water pressure wasn’t great, and most of the tiles were edged in pink mold that climbed from the grouting, but at least she felt a bit cleaner when she stepped out. She hadn’t packed any pyjamas - having not planned on staying the night - but she had packed an extra outfit for after the cross country, anticipating how awful it would feel to endure the five hour bus ride back in her sweaty clothes.

When she exited the bathroom Stiles and Scott were lying down on their twin single beds, staring up at the peeled and cracked ceiling. Stiles was fully dressed this time in dark-wash jeans, a grey T-shirt and a maroon jacket that clung to his biceps in a way that made Zaida flush.

“Hey, come here,” Stiles beckoned her over, patting on the thin mattress beneath him. She tentatively took a seat at the end of his bed. “We need your brain.”

“To hell with the rest of me, right?” She snorted sarcastically, though it was only partially a joke. A headache was beginning to play behind her eyes like a drumming in her brain.

“All right, so I have four.” Stiles returned to the conversation he had been previously having with Scott, leaving Zaida to guess at the subject matter. “Lydia and I think that the Darach and the alpha pack are preparing for war against each other. The alphas are expanding their pack, and the Darach is committing human sacrifices for power - however that works.”

“Four? You have four suspects?” Scott raised a brow towards his hairline. So that’s what they were talking about. Scott finally allowed his best friend to discuss the identity of the Darach.

“Yeah, it was originally ten. Well, nine, technically, I guess - I had Derek on there twice.” Stiles lifted his shoulders into a half-shrug.

“Well, I guess we can cross him off, now that he’s… you know.” Zaida muttered. She was still bitter about Stiles and Lydia working together without her.

“So, who's number one? Harris?” Scott brushed off her comment.

“Just because he's missing, doesn't mean he's dead.” Stiles nodded in confirmation.

“So, if he's not dead, our chemistry teacher is out secretly committing human sacrifices...?” Scott added skeptically.

“Yeah, I guess that just sounded way better in my head.” Stiles winced when he realised how far-fetched his theory sounded aloud.

“Harrris is definitely sketchy, but why would he write ‘Darach’ on his graded papers and leave them on his desk if it was him? That’s self-incrimination at the most , and giving us crucial information the Darach wouldn’t want people knowing at the least.” Zaida pointed out.

“Maybe he was trying to throw suspicion off, or maybe the alphas got to him before he could clean it up?” The Sheriff’s son suggested.

“I don’t think so. He was leaving a message - like he knew he was going to be taken. Maybe he knew who the Darach was.” Zaida offered.

“Well, what if it's someone else from school? Like, you remember Matt? We didn't know that he was killing people…” Scott interjected, trying to be helpful.

“Excuse me? I'm sorry, what? I-“ Stiles craned his neck, leaning up to look at his friend with an appalled expression. “Yes, we did! I called that from day one , actually.”

“Yeah, but we never really thought that it was Matt…” Scott chuckled lightly.

“I was serious! I was quite serious, actually! Deadly serious! No one listened to me!” Stiles scoffed and got to his feet in his outrage.

“I listened to you,” Zaida mumbled under her breath. Between his comment just then and how he had only validated her earlier theory of Scott’s injury-origins when Lydia had said it, she felt entirely overlooked.

“Who were the other three?” The werewolf pulled them back on track.

“Derek's sister, Cora - no one knows anything about her, and she's Derek's sister.” Stiles tucked down another finger as he demonstrated the list on his hand. “Next, your boss.”

“My boss?” Scott repeated in surprise, sitting up.

“Yeah, your boss. I don't really like the whole Obi-Wan thing he's got going on, you know? It freaks me out.” Stiles explained and at Scott’s confounded look his jaw dropped. “...Oh, my God! Have you still not seen Star Wars?!”

“I swear, if we make it back alive, I will watch the movie.” Scott sighed in defeat.

“That’s ‘movies’ plural, Scotty boy.” Zaida corrected.

“How many are there?” He questioned with a clueless frown.

“Three in the original trilogy, three in the prequels, three in the sequels, three non-canon Ewok spin offs, two standalone spin offs, then the Clone Wars film and tv show, and most recently, the Kenobi and Ashoka spin-off shows. Plus the holiday special, Star Wars Rebels, The Mandelorian, Andor, The Book of Boba Fett, Lego Star Wars, the upcoming Droid Story film...” Zaida listed them as Scott’s eyes only grew wider and wider along with Stiles’ broad smile. “Do you want me to keep going?”

“No!” Scott shook his head definitively and changed the subject. “Stiles, you said you had four. Who was the last suspect?”

“...Lydia. She was totally controlled by Peter, and she had no idea, so…” The boy admitted with a grim expression.

“What? My best friend is not going around committing human sacrifices!” Zaida blurted in defence of the girl, in disbelief that he had even suggested such a thing.

“I’m not saying she’s doing it on purpose. When Peter controlled her, she had no clue what she was doing. He could be doing it again. Think about it, Lydia found one of the bodies and has no idea how she ended up there.” Stiles elaborated on his theory, and when he put it that way Zaida supposed it was an undeniable possibility. “Maybe she didn’t just find the body.”

“I need some food.” She rubbed at her temples, easing the tension there as she got to her feet.

“I’ll come with you. I saw a vending machine on our way in.” Stiles offered, though it was more of a demand than a question. He was up and leading the way out of the door in only a few moments.

“You coming, Scotty boy?” Zaida looked to the werewolf hopefully, not quite wanting to be alone with Stiles right now.

“No, you guys go.” Scott was too zoned-out to pick up on her silent plea for his company, leaving a disappointed Zaida to trail after Stiles.

“Maybe this isn’t the best idea - you and vending machines don’t exactly have a long-standing history of a good relationship.” The brunette pointed out in a sarcastic drawl as she followed after the boy outside, walking along the balcony that was lined with other room numbers.

“That was ages ago. I’m a changed man, Zaida.” He winked at her. Certainly he was a changed man. Compared to that hyperactive little boy and self-assured, strong-willed girl they were back then, both of them had changed. He was a bit calmer now - though still chaotic - and more confident. As for herself? Well she wasn’t so sure anymore. She’d thought that she’d found her place in Beacon Hills - that she meant something, and that she made a difference. She’d thought that now that she was in more control of her abilities, she was powerful. Last night at the mall only proved to her how wrong she had been. She was completely worthless, her ice shards discarded in a split second by a blind man. If it weren’t for Allison and her flash arrows, them being there would have been a disaster. There was nothing Zaida could do to help her friends, or her brother for that matter. In fact, all she had done was force Xander to paint a target on his back to protect her. The only difference she had made was that she’d somehow managed to make the situation entirely worse.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet. What’s going on in that brilliant mind of yours?” Stiles wondered, his analytical amber eyes arrowing on her - able to see right through her to the turmoil within. ‘Brilliant’ - she snorted audibly. Not so brilliant that she could figure out the Darach and alphas were opposing sides in an upcoming battle. Not so brilliant that she could find a way to save her brother from the fate she bestowed upon him. Not so brilliant that Stiles would believe her theories before Lydia confirmed them.

“I’m fine, Stiles.” She spat back with more venom in her tone than she intended.

“Okay, now I definitely know something is wrong. When you say you’re fine, you’re not fine. Ever .” He shook his head. “Is it about Deucalion? About what happened last night? Everyone’s been fussing over if Scott’s okay because his mental anguish manifested in a physical injury, but no one’s asked if you’re okay, have they?”

“You did,” She answered in quiet realisation. He’d cared enough to question if she was up to this trip even before getting on the bus. That small gesture kept that tiny flame of hope burning in her chest, and it was enough to light up the consuming darkness.

“How are you holding up with it all?” He asked with sympathy softening his molten-honey eyes.

“Well, the werewolf who murdered my parents is just waltzing around Beacon Hills, and Xander is next on his hit-list because of me. Yet I’m here on a Cross Country meet while he’s probably running - or fighting - for his life. If he even still has it. So I’d say I’m doing fabulously.” Her lips pulled into a tight and sarcastic smile.

“You know it’s not your fault, right? There was no way for you to have known any of that was going to happen.” Stiles attempted to reason with her, but guilt was far stronger than logic. It clawed at her insides, raking deep scrapes into her very bones.

“But it is my fault, whether I meant for it to happen or not. I’m the reason my brother might be dead right now.” She swallowed hard, her self-disgust and inadequacy rising thickly in her throat. It was sickening.

“You…you don’t know that. Xander could be safe.” The boy tried - the way she was speaking was entirely foreign. He’d never heard her talk like that before. Zaida always had a plan B, and then a plan C, or D, all the way through to Z. She always seemed to know what to do. Always appeared two steps ahead of the rest of them. Zaida Callis never gave up. But right now, she sounded entirely hopeless, and it struck fear into his gut. “Your brother knows what he’s doing - he’s police trained and he’s a Hunter trained by the Argents - the oldest Hunter family ever! He’ll be okay.”

“I hope so,” She muttered, not wanting to talk about this anymore. Not even with him. Talking about it only meant she had to think about it, and she was already thinking about it enough. Zaida was thankful when the two of them descended the noisy metal staircase and reached the vending machine beneath it, effectively cutting off their conversation. Boyd was standing and staring at the glass with another one of his famous deadpan expressions as he punched in the buttons on the keypad to select Peanut Butter Crackers.

“Hey! That was the same thing I was gonna get.” Stiles grinned in a friendly fashion as he peered nosily from next to the beta. The metal swirl holding the snacks rotated, but not enough to release the packet into the drop-chute. “Oh, hang on...You know what? I got a patented method for this, don't worry-”

“Stiles,” Zaida let out an exhausted sigh as the boy gripped the machine from its top, preparing to shake it. Boyd interrupted them both, punching straight through the glass with a closed fist, the rest of him not moving so much as an inch. He snatched his snack from the machine and turned on his heel, leaving without so much as a word. “Oh my God…” She frowned as her eyes followed the werewolf. What was it with people in Beacon Hills breaking vending machines?

Stiles, on the other hand, took the opportunity to grab as many items as he could hold, cautious eyes darting about for anyone who might see him committing vending machine theft. “How are you the son of the Sheriff?” Zaida tutted at his law-breaking tendencies.

“It’s because I'm the son of the Sheriff,” He assured her and ushered her away from the scene of the crime, back up the stairs and towards him and Scott’s room.

“Oh no, I’m not going to get caught for you pillaging the motel vending machine. You’re on your own, buddy.” She held up her hands and shook her head, splitting off in the opposite direction with a lazy salute.

“I thought you were hungry?” Stiles called out as she turned back.

“Not anymore. Crime makes me lose my appetite,” She jested dryly. In truth, she really couldn’t bear being around him right now - not when every time she looked at him, she only saw him sitting beside Lydia in that bus.

Unfortunately Danny and Ethan were not yet ‘finished’ in her own room. Zaida discovered that the hard way, and was left with yet another dilemma - she could retreat to Stiles and Scott’s room with her proverbial tail between her legs, or she could seek out Lydia and Allison. She went with the lesser of the two evils and ventured a bit further down the upstairs walkway to where she knew the redhead and huntress were situated. When Lydia opened the door for her and ushered her inside, Zaida wasn’t expecting the vile and acrid taste of jealousy to bubble over and leave a bitter taste in her mouth - but it did. How did the girl still look so beautiful after five hours in a car - over two of those hours spent in a crowded bus? She hadn’t even had a shower or changed her clothes. She looked exactly as perfect as she had looked when she was seated next to Stiles, having him gaze at her with his amber-eyes.

“Come on in, you can sit anywhere you like, although I wouldn’t recommend it,” The redhead wrinkled her nose in disgust at the state of the accommodation they were put up in.

Even that somehow looked adorable on her small button nose. When Zaida did that, she always thought her straight-bridged European nose simply looked like a wrinkled beak. That feeling of inadequacy boiled once again within Zaida. In all of their friendship, she’d tried hard to not compare herself with Lydia, knowing it would never end well. But now she couldn’t help it. Zaida was suddenly very aware of the differences between her and her best friend. The redhead had captured Stiles Stilinski’s heart, for starters, without even trying to do so. She was much prettier as well. In fact, in more ways than not Zaida paled in comparison to the redhead’s beauty and other talents. She wasn’t musical enough, wasn’t artistic enough, wasn’t as intelligent. It was as if all of the things Zaida had prided herself for, Lydia could do better.

“Oh, hey Zaida,” Allison flashed her a bright smile from where she was kicked back on her bed, typing away at her phone.

With a jolt Zaida realised it was not just Lydia, but Allison as well who was better than her. Zaida had been utterly powerless the night before, but Allison had held her own, likely saving Scott and Isaac along with the other members of Derek’s pack with her flash-bomb arrows. Zaida wasn’t that skilful, or that calm in the face of danger. She wasn’t calculated enough, wasn’t knowledgeable enough. Zaida simply wasn’t enough. Not enough of anything.

“What are you guys up to?” Zaida took a seat on the end of Lydia’s untouched bed in what she hoped was a casual manner.

“Lydia was just filling me in.” Allison nodded towards the still-standing redhead.

“Stiles and I think that the Darach and the alpha pack are related, just not in the way we first believed. In ancient cultures, ritualistic sacrifices in preparation for battle were quite common. The Darach could be committing these sacrifices for the same reason the alphas are recruiting - they’re preparing for battle. Likely against each other.” Lydia’s lips drew into a tight line as revealed what she thought was new information. Little did she know that Zaida had heard it twice before - once on the bus and once from Stiles’ own mouth.

“Yeah, I heard,” She nodded, trying and failing to keep the bitterness from her tone. Thankfully, neither of the girls picked up on its true origins, attributing it to the stress of the challenges before them.

“Now that you mention it, I was going to ask about that,” Allison put her phone away and leaned forwards against her propped up knees.

“About what?” Lydia arched a perfectly shaped brow. Zaida could already tell she wouldn’t like where this was going at all. She’d pretty much reached boiling point already and was not prepared to hold herself back from the edge much longer.

“About you and Stiles,” The huntress prodded purposefully, waiting for a reaction to confirm her suspicions, yet not the ones Zaida immediately assumed they were. The huntress had noticed a change in the way Stiles interacted with Lydia - a change that she thought might mean the boy had moved on. “You two seemed like you were getting along pretty well on the bus. I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you guys have a one-on-one conversation without him bumbling over his words or making a pass at you.”

“Yeah, well hopefully that means his pathetic little crush on me is a thing of the past,” The redhead rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “Seriously, what did he think was going to happen? A girl says ‘no’ enough times and you’d think he’d catch the hint.”

“It isn’t some ‘pathetic little crush’,” Zaida snapped and Allison’s eyes shot towards her, widening slightly. Her friend’s dismissive attitude towards Stiles’ feelings only made Zaida’s growing frustration and agitation spike, tipping her over the edge.

“Following me around like a stray puppy-dog begging for scraps is pretty pathetic, if you ask me.” The redhead joked with an amused hum, so used to haughtily brushing off his affections that she did so mindlessly. It only propelled Zaida further down the emotional spiral she’d been descending all afternoon.

“Don’t you realise just how incredibly lucky you are?!” Zaida’s face flushed with anger and it was only then that Lydia recognised something was wrong. “That boy would do anything for you. He cares about you so much and you don’t even have to look twice at him. He’s never pushed you, he’s never asked for anything more than what you were willing to give him. He is so unbelievably loyal and devoted that he knew you were never interested and he still hasn’t moved on for the slim chance that one day you might want him back.”

“Zay, I didn’t mean-” The redhead swiftly tried to backtrack when she opened her eyes to how she’d offended the girl. “He’s just not my type…”

“He is hilarious, and selfless, and thoughtful, and a complete genius! I don’t know what else you could want from him. He’s perfect, Lydia, and I’m hopelessly falling for him when all he can see is you!” Zaida was yelling now, her chest heaving when she realised the reality of what she had just blurted. Her hands flew to cup her mouth and she let out a strangled sob of surprise, tears welling. For a brief period of silence everyone was frozen, not knowing what to do or say in reaction to her outburst.

“...I’m sorry. I…I don’t know where that came from.” Zaida cleared her throat with a quiet voice. Lydia took a step towards her, green eyes wide in shock and sympathy, but Zaida held an arm out to stop the girl in her tracks. She just needed some space for a moment to deal with the overwhelming wave of anxiety that washed over her. “Don’t…just…don’t.”

“Zaida…I had no idea.” Lydia slowly and tentatively took a seat on the bed beside the brunette. She inwardly scolded herself. Of course she’d had no idea - she was so self-absorbed that she’d neglected to notice how her best friend was feeling when now that she thought about it, it had been so obvious. Those lingering looks during training before summer break, and the way her eyes would light up when talking about something stupid he’d said or done. It had been in the way she’d gone silent when the three of them would hang out together and Stiles would make a flirty joke that Lydia would ignore. “How…how long?”

Zaida didn’t answer. Her head hung low, heavy from the weight of her shame. This was not how she’d intended to inform her friends of her feelings. In fact, she hadn't wanted to tell them at all, afraid of how things might change between her and Lydia. She’d never wanted the redhead to feel guilty - after all, it wasn’t her fault that Stiles had chosen her. It wasn’t her fault that Zaida wasn’t enough. She could see from the girl’s wide green eyes that it was too late to prevent that now. “I don’t know…” She finally ground out in a hoarse voice. “A while?”

Allison scooted over her bed to sit on the edge, coming closer to offer her support. “How long have you known ?” She reframed Lydia’s question, remembering how Zaida had brushed it off when she’d last suggested such a thing - the night that they’d hunted Cora and Boyd. The warmth and compassion behind her dark brown doe eyes softened the pounding in Zaida’s temples, like the steady rhythm of a song beating against the walls of her mind.

“The beginning of summer, when we went to the beach house.” She admitted, releasing some of the built-up tension within her with her confession.

“But that was months ago?” Lydia exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“There was no point - Stiles has made his feelings for you pretty damn clear. There’s nothing you could have done. There’s still nothing that you can do.” The brunette shook her head. “Stiles likes you, Lydia. He knows that you might not ever like him back, but he can’t help how he feels - the same way that I can’t help how I feel. And I can’t blame him for not liking me, just like I can’t blame you for his feelings.” Now that everything was out in the open, that knocking in her mind had quietened, allowing her to calm her raging storm of emotions. Five things. “I’m honestly surprised that you didn’t notice - everyone else did.”

Lydia turned to Allison for confirmation and the huntress answered with a sad smile. “Even you?” The redhead raised her brows in surprise.

“I suspected it for a while, but when I teased Zaida about it she immediately turned the subject around onto me…” Allison trailed off as she recalled the moment she had known it to be true.

“Who else knew?” Lydia questioned. The fact that she was the last one to figure it out when Zaida was her best friend only added to her growing sense of guilt.

“I thought Scott was the first - he could smell it in my chemo-signals. But now that I think about it, Danny and Isaac were making comments from months before that…” Zaida thought back to all of Danny’s jokes that she’d brushed off, and that one time Isaac had pointed out to her that all of the qualities that had attracted her to him , Stiles also possessed. Four things.

“Oh my God, I’m the worst friend ever,” Lydia shook her head in disbelief. How could she have been so blind - so self-absorbed - that she hadn’t seen it?

“You are not the worst friend ever - in fact you’re far from it.” Zaida rushed to defend Lydia from her self-criticism, reaching to squeeze her hand supportively. Three things. “You were going through everything with Jackson, and on top of that you were helping me with training, and my parents’ murder, and finding out what I am. It’s not your fault that I didn’t tell you.”

“I just wish that you would have said something,” Lydia mumbled, tilting her head in an empathetic expression and gripping Zaida’s hand tightly.

“I knew that telling you about it would have only made you feel bad for something you couldn’t control.” Zaida sighed deeply. “I didn’t want you to feel like that, and I didn’t want to let it come between us.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Lydia promised determinedly. “We’re not going to let it.”

Zaida responded with the warmest smile she could muster despite the cold creeping further into her bones.

After a while of hanging out in the girls’ motel room, thoroughly avoiding the subject of Stiles Stilinski and talking about anything and everything else, Allison decided to have a shower. The huntress looked up from where she was rifling through the bathroom cupboards, pulling out a stack of towels, carrying them over to where the other girls were laying side by side on Lydia’s bed.

“I don’t think these towels are clean…” The taller girl trailed off, looking at the items with an unsure expression while Zaida and Lydia drew their attention away from taking selfies on the redhead’s phone.

“No kidding,” Lydia took a short sniff and pulled back quickly. “That smells like a chronic smoker hid their cancerous lungs in it.”

“Maybe they forgot to change them,” Allison attempted to brush it off kindly, whereas Lydia looked pissed off.

“Or maybe, they just never change them. Maybe these bed sheets are years old. Maybe, they never clean anything.” The redhead prattled on with her hands crossed over her chest in a sassy pose.

“Ugh, I really need a shower though,” Allison pulled at her slightly-oily brown hair with an apprehensive expression.

“Don’t you even think about it,” Lydia snatched the towels from her so the brunette couldn’t use them and bounced to her feet. “I’m going to go down to the office and give these people a piece of my mind. This place is in violation of like a hundred health safety laws.”

“I’ll go with her to make sure she doesn’t cuss anyone out.” Zaida rolled her eyes fondly at the redhead and followed her out of the room.

There was no stopping Lydia when she was on a mission. The girl’s heeled boots clacked against the metal staircase as she strutted her way to the management office window, dropping the towels down on the bench and addressing the older lady there, who had her back to them. “Be nice,” Zaida whispered a reminder to the girl.

“Excuse me? The card on the dresser says we have a non-smoking room, but somehow…all our towels reek of nicotine.” The redhead muttered and the woman turned only for them to see a transparent rubber tube embedded in her throat. A tracheotomy tube, Zaida recognised with a shiver.

“Sorry about that, sweetheart.” The woman rasped in a hoarse voice, clearly damaged from years of heavy smoking. Zaida shot Lydia a stern look and the girl’s lips thinned guiltily for her attitude. As they waited for the lady to return with fresh towels, Lydia’s eyes were drawn to a number framed on the office’s wall.

“What's that? That number?” The redhead questioned, unable to help satiating her curiosity once the lady returned with clean towels.

“It's kind of an inside thing for the motel. My husband insists on keeping it up.” The woman chuckled darkly and the sound sent goosebumps rippling down Zaida’s spine.

“What do you mean?” Lydia prodded further.

“It's a little bit morbid, to be honest…” The owner admitted. “You sure you want to know?”

“Well, with a preface like that,” Zaida raised a brow.

“Tell me.” Lydia nodded impatiently.

“We're not gonna make the top of anyone's list when it comes to customer satisfaction…” The lady began.

“Obviously.” The redhead interjected with a rude scoff and Zaida sent her a reprimanding expression.

“But we are number one in California when it comes to one disturbing little detail. Since opening - more than any other motel in California - we have the most guest suicides.” The woman’s face twisted into a slight smile, a glint in her eyes that was almost disturbing.

“One hundred and ninety-eight?” Lydia confirmed with wide green eyes, double-checking the number as if she didn’t believe she’d seen it correctly now that she knew what it represented.

“And counting!” The woman cackled. If Zaida wasn’t creeped out before, she sure as hell was now.

#teen wolf #teen wolf fanfic #stiles stilinski #stiles #stiles x oc #teen wolf fanfiction #teenwolf fanfiction #teenwolf #female oc #female original character #allison argent #lydia martin #scott mccall

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namine-somebodies-nobody · 2 years ago

Note

Hello!

May i ask ✨ 🧺 🌙 for the emoji ask game? Thank you, I hope you have a good day!

Thank you for the ask!

✨: what scents do you have strong memories/associations with?

I have quite a few, but I'll narrow it down to the 2 scents that hit me the strongest.

The first is a particular perfume. Its actually quite an old scent called Wind Song. It has a very bright, clean, but distinct scent. My granny use to wear it and it was so strong that her entire house would just fill up with it. Smelling that scent always brings me back to young childhood for me. Sunny days running through the hanging laundry on the line in the yard. Hot Summer mornings spent in the pool at her house. Snuggling on her bed after getting out of the pool and watching tv together as she ran her fingernails through my hair to untangle the knots. When I smell that scent it gives me such a feeling of safety and comfort. Occasionally it will cause me to hurt as well though, as my granny has been gone for more than 20 years.

The second one is the smell of Earth... almost decaying and the turning of seasons. The deep smell of moist leaves and crisp air in Autumn. It is my favorite time of the year and has been since I was a kid. It makes makes me think of chilly, rainy days where I would sit in my bedroom with the window open as I watched the rain cover my backyard. My dad making my sister an I hot chocolate to drink by the fireplace. Carving pumpkins, warm sunny days with a cool breeze to play in. And it always meant that my birthday was close, lol. When I smell that scent it reminds me of home. I am always the happiest in the fall.

🧺: describe your perfect picnic, or why you don’t like them if you don’t?

Picnics in the fall are the best! As I stated above, that is my favorite season. Plus I think its the best season for avoiding bugs at a picnic (I am not a fan of creepy crawly things.) To make it perfect, it would have to be on a sunny day, where is isn't too warm and there is a nice occasional breeze. A comfy blanket set out on a grassy spot overlooking the woods, so that we can hear the leaves rustling and falling in the wind, and that we can take a walk in the woods when were done.

I am not too picky or particular with the food. Something light and easy to clean up. A basic charcuterie board type spread would be the best. With extra sweets added...cookies...brownies...donuts...muffins (I love sweet things!) Laying on the blanket and cloud watching or reading a book and light conversation would make the day absolutely divine.

🌙: what’s your least favourite thing to do in your least favourite season?

My least favorite season is Winter. Its only saving grace is that it has Christmas, as that's my favorite holiday. But other than that I am usually pretty miserable. My least favorite thing in Winter would be honestly anything outside. I do not like the cold or snow. I will go out for the sake of my kiddos to do all of our yearly holiday traditions, but other than that I try to stay inside.

I do not do well in the cold (I have chronic pain and autoimmune issues that get worse in the cold.) So I spend most of that season in a lot of pain. It might sound silly, but I am a person who lives by the sun and moon, and during that time of year both are rarely seen. I need that sun to energize my day and make me feel warm. And even at night I feel like the clouds that cover the sky and moon by default, take something away as well. I usually struggle with my anxiety and depression the most that time of year as well.

Sorry that this got so long. Thank you again for the ask!

#ask game #thank you for the ask #namine stuff

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themissing-linc · 1 year ago

Text

The combination of Aileen's voice and the cool breeze, lifting something sweet-smelling into his face, felt almost therapeutic to Linc. It wasn't often he got to do this-- ask questions, listen, relax. Not to anyone's discredit, Linc had just been pulling long hours at the radio station and otherwise hanging around Dad's bed. But he had an overwhelming sense that he could get used to this, whatever this meant.

Linc took note of that, quirking an eyebrow inquisitively. "Do you like being responsible?" He was sure she made for a pretty damn good teacher, but these were the things that weighed on a person-- unending responsibility and providing a shoulder to cry on. It could get lonely, he knew, but maybe not for Aileen. He laughed, eyes crinkling at the edges, "It sounds like I might need to call your mom about my laundry, too. She got a mailing list?" he teased, then swore, "Your secret's safe with me."

Aileen's response was... different than most. Linc knew, intimately, the position he was putting people in with the reveal that his father was sick. There were a finite amount of things to say-- I'm so sorry to hear that, stay strong, he's a fighter-- all of which only ever fell flat. He watched her face for a long moment, almost awestruck at her emotional intelligence. "Yeah... hey, thank you. I mean that," he managed, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from doing something stupid.

Linc grinned at the mention of the recorders, mishievous gleam in his eye. "Hey, some very influential musicians got their start on those plastic recorders," he said, laughing. "We all have to suffer for art, right?"

He didn't know what he expected, but Aileen calling him a rockstar almost made Linc laugh. "Hardly that," he admitted, shrugging as they followed the path towards the market. "I went to school, got a degree in Sound Engineering," Linc shrugged. "Made an album, got the band back together, made another album." He hesitated over his next words, not at all wanting to seem ungrateful for everything he'd experienced. "I sort of... well, I'm not glad for everything happening, but I was starting to wonder if the whole thing was really for me."

Before he could gauge Aileen's response, they were approaching Finest Catch. Linc was disappointed to burst their bubble, but he turned to Aileen and dug his phone out of his pocket, which was still playing music into the earbuds, embarrassingly. "Would you-- could I get your number? Maybe we could do this again?" Linc asked, glancing at his phone to give her an easy out. "It's okay if... I mean, this was nice."

The wind picked up slightly as the two walked down the side of the lake, and Aileen took a breath, enjoying as it swept her hair back. It felt peaceful, so peaceful today. She surprised herself, however, by not missing the silence that usually accompanied this specific feeling of calmness. Returning herself to the present she met Lincoln's eyes, and as much as she didn't know him enough to know what he was thinking, she could tell he also didn't mind the company. If his curiosity and questions were anything to go by, he might even welcome it.

Her little bubble cracked a little at his question about her older sister status, but not necessarily due to the personal nature of the question. She can't quite know if as she'd have gotten older, her dynamic in her family would have shifted to one filled with responsibility and expectations. Arthritis had made its appearance even before she'd become a teenager, and those early years definitely shifted all of them, even if life did return back to normal when she started high school, when they moved to Blue Harbor. A new normal, but normal nonetheless.

"Umm..." she laughed nervously, definitely not about to info-dump and ruin the pleasant mood of the evening. She pushed some hair behind her ear, buying herself some time as her eyes shifted down to the ground. "I think I was definitely the most responsible one, and left in charge when we were alone, but we are all very close in age. I don't think there was any difference in how we were treated due to who was older." she felt slightly guilty, her careful choice of words concealing the differences in upbringing they had due to other factors, but she didn't necessarily want to do the usual oh poor you speech today. She was enjoying herself, and she didn't want him to look at her with worry or pity. "Although, Nuan still calls me instead of our mom when she buys something new and doesn't know how to wash it. Even after she turned 21." she confessed, hoping to dispel any insecure thoughts over guidance. "I just don't tell her I call mum when I hang up with her to double-check."

As Lincoln spoke about his Dad's antics she couldn't help a relieved laugh, the knot in her stomach easing a little. She knew all about good and bad days intimately, and knew all that hid behind that statement she had used so many times herself. She wouldn't push it further, hating when people didn't let her escape her own reality with it. "It must be a relief to see him still be himself like that. I hope for more of those good days for all of you." her eyes tracked his fingers as he worried the reddened skin of his nose, and she couldn't stop her thought of cute.

"It is definitely not music class." she let out a little laugh, shaking her head. "The xylophones and bongos I had learned to tune out, but whoever introduced the recorders has definitely never sat around five year olds." she can still feel the ringing in her eardrums if she focuses.

Her laugh died off and she slightly cringed as he offered her a clear olive branch for her fish blunder. "I... I have no idea." the blush tainted her cheeks, and then she realised she'd been rudely rambling about herself when he was the one who'd gotten out of town and actually had an exciting life. "But, what about you? I'm talking to you about my sister's laundry when you are a rockstar now!" she let out a huff of embarrassment. "What did you get up after you left the town?"

@themissing-linc

#w/ aileen #//remember when i said i would wrap this and i lied? feel free to leave it here LOL or if you wanna put a lil bow on it go for it <333

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super-unpredictable98 · 2 years ago

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Can you pleasee do a fic like 18 years after when their daughter brings home her bf for dinner who has the whole bad boy vibe and their whole interaction?

(klaus,vicki)

Meet The Parents | The Umbrella Academy AU

Pairing: Klaus x Vicky (OC - The Eighth Child’ Verse)

Word Count: 1,3 k

Warning: Strong language, mention of drugs

a/n: Thank you so much for your request, I had a lot of fun with it. I hope you like it, I really love writing Dad Klaus lol also I'm still working on requests so just keep an eye out everyone.

(Masterlist)

"Hello, Liebchen..." Klaus walked out of the bedroom following the smell of fresh bread and seasonings for the marinara sauce.

Even though he was 52, he still dressed pretty much like he always had. He wore a shimmery see-through crop top and the tiniest underwear, glitter from the party they attended the night before still covering his eyes, cheeks, and (somewhat gray) curls. Ah, the advantages of being empty-nesters...

Ever since Fortune left to go to college about 45 minutes away, Klaus and Vicky had been living like they did in their early 20s. Parties, weed, drinks, junk food, lots and lots of sex. No one understood how they got the energy, but they did.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty! This has to be a new record, you slept for half a day," Victoria teased. "Hungry?"

"Oh yeah, I'm definitely hungry," Klaus embraced her from behind and slid his hands up to feel up her chest. "You look even sexier now that I'm sober."

"Thanks, but I don't think we'll have time for that now, Klausie," she laughed.

"What? Why?" He pouted.

"You forgot? Fortune is coming for dinner, honey, she's bringing her new boyfriend."

Klaus' demeanor immediately went sour, it was the first time their daughter was bringing a boy for them to meet and he was sure he would hate anyone she introduced. Not because he'd necessarily be an asshole, but obviously because no one in the world can ever be good enough for his Fortune.

In an effort to be as different as possible from his own father, he became the most doting dad he possibly could. It was a miracle his daughter turned out so sweet and grounded after how spoiled she was.

"I know I promised to be cool about this dating thing, but..."

"I know," Vicky stirred the sauce carefully while giving her husband a sympathetic look. "You never thought you'd be square and get jealous of your little girl, but there you are. Don't worry, Tunnie has a good head on her shoulders and good taste. She knows what a good man looks like, we raised her well."

He nodded, trying to blindly trust his wife, as more often than not, she was right. What's the worst that could happen? She was only 18, it's not like she could get pregnant... or marry way too young... or join a cult with this guy like several people did when Destiny's Children was around. Well, shit.

About an hour later the doorbell rang, Klaus had already showered and put on some less slutty clothes, so he ran to open the door while Victoria set the table.

"My Tunnie!" He pulled his daughter into his arms and squeezed her as if it was the first time they saw each other in years (it had been a week). "I missed you so much, is your throat better? Did the medicine help?"

"Yeah, Dad, I'm fine. I missed you too," Fortune chuckled, already used to the overprotection.

"Oh, check it out! I love it," he took her arm to get a better look at her new tattoo of the moon. "Uncle Luther is gonna love it!" He joked, completely ignoring the boy waiting by the door as well.

"Thanks," she smiled, pulling her boyfriend closer as her mom joined. "Dad, this is Jax. Jax this is my father, Klaus, and my mother, Victoria."

"Hey," was all he said.

"So nice to meet you," Vicky went in for a hug despite being a little hesitant. He didn't seem like the type of guy her daughter would be interested in.

The boy was tall and muscular, his arms were covered in tattoos, his long hair was shaped a little bit like a mullet and messy, he had a dangling earring, wore a spike necklace, and a leather jacket. From what they could count, he had two more piercings (on his eyebrow and his tongue).

"Jax? Like a dog?" Klaus laughed. "Come on in, dinner is ready."

An awkward silence engulfed the entire family while everyone got themselves some pasta and garlic bread. As a former horrible influence, Klaus could recognize one when he saw it, and he didn't like it one bit.

"So, what are you studying, Jax?" Victoria finally asked. She had to admit despite not being the sort of man she would've gone for back in her day, he was very handsome.

"I'm in nursing school," he answered. "My mom was a nurse in Japan before we moved to America."

Klaus nearly choked, a nurse? Really? That guy looked like he would punch someone in the face for asking him the time.

"Oh, you're Japanese? Where are you from? My husband and I did a ton of missions- works there," Victoria smiled.

"Osaka."

"Wow! That's amazing, we loved hanging around Dotonbori. Right, Klausie?"

"Um? Yeah, yeah, really cool place," Klaus nodded, trying not to let his thoughts wander too much.

"Jax is also in a band, he plays the drums," Fortune added. "He helps at the animal shelter on the weekends and volunteers at the nursing home every Monday."

"Good one," her father snorted before he could stop himself.

"What do you mean, Dad?"

"Oh come on, are we just gonna pretend like Asian James Dean looks like someone who likes to volunteer!"

"Klaus!" Victoria scolded. "What did I tell you? You were never like this, you were never one to judge appearances, what's going on?"

"Yeah, Dad, you always told me you can never judge a book by its cover when my classmates would tease me saying you're gay!" Fortune exclaimed.

Meanwhile, poor Jax sunk in his seat wanting nothing more than to disappear. He was scared something like that was gonna happen and he really liked Fortune.

"I know, but- but you're my daughter! And he's bad news!" Klaus cried irrationally. "I know how that sounds, Vicky. I know I'm bad news too, but in a different way!"

"Klausie, you were the most promiscuous teenager I've ever met, you broke every law I can think of, you used every substance under the sun, and you were a cult leader involved in a tax fraud scandal!" Victoria scoffed.

"Alright, yeah, that's true... but in my defense, it was the '60s, cults were all the rage!"

"Dad, you have nothing to worry about. Yeah, he's kinda intimidating at first, but he's a huge softie, he's just shy," Fortune said, taking her boyfriend's arm.

"I- I wanted to leave a good first impression," Jax admitted. "But when I'm nervous, I shut down a bit."

Klaus suddenly felt like shit seeing the kid looking so scared. He never had that experience to meet Victoria's parents, he couldn't imagine how scared he would be, how horrible he would feel if they treated him like he treated Jax.

"You know what? Let's give it another shot, you seem decent enough. I'm Klaus, nice to meet you," he offered his tattooed hand.

"Jax Hayashi, nice to meet you too," the boy smiled, grateful for the second chance.

"Tell me in thirty seconds why you deserve to date my Fortune," he teased.

"I work hard, I always try to better myself, I cook, I'm good with kids and animals, I like to make her laugh, and... and I love her, she's the most amazing and most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life."

Victoria grabbed her husband's arm, her heart tight with emotion. Just like him, Jax was good and sweet, just underneath a little bit of a weird surface. Fortune smiled, knowing her dad would come around after all.

"She really is, isn't she? Not to brag, but I helped making her," Klaus chuckled. "Fun fact, did you know Fortune here was actually conceived in 1963 right before the assassination of JFK?"

Tag List: @elliethesuperfruitlover @seanfalco @salvador-daley @firstpersonnarrator

#umbrella academy fanfic #umbrella academy imagine #umbrella academy klaus #fanfic #tua imagine #tua klaus #tua #tua fanfic #the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #the eighth child #klaus hargreeves x oc #robert sheehan character fic #robert sheehan fanfic #one shot

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