#a good piece of advice i heard was to just take doodles as making notes for when you do make a bigger piece | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

potter-imagines · 3 years

Text

Being Thor and Loki's Little Sister and Dating Peter Parker Would Include...

Notes: wow I haven't written a marvel one in a long time pls don't read too much into the timeline lol I know things overlap but just go with it (:

Warnings: none... I think ??

Word Count: 3.6k (sorry its a bit long for a write like this but I couldn't help myself)

You managed to do a decent job at keeping your relationship under wraps from your brothers for quite some time

Of course every other member on the team knew before the two of you even begun officially dating

Peter had spent three months ranting and raving to Tony Stark about how cute he thought you were and how much he liked you

Tony insisted time and time again he should tell you but Peter’s fear of rejection was much too large for him to find the courage for that

Unbeknownst to him,

You had spilled about your crush on Peter to Wanda and Nat almost a week after living in the compound

Being the only other girls there besides Pepper, it was easy to confide in them

Day after day you would wander to Wanda’s room and lay on her bed and gush about how handsome Peter was and how kind of a heart he had

Wanda found it adorable

And Bucky, Steve and Sam had placed the pieces together after days on end of watching Peter and yourself flirt like school kids in the gym during training

Even after being frozen for years, Steve recognized the look of smitten on Peter’s face when he talked to you

Bruce on the other hand had to sit through most of the kids talks with Tony in the lab so he figured it out fast

So when the two of you finally confessed your feelings for one another and Peter asked you out, there was only one road block holding the moment back from perfection

Your brothers

You and Peter shared the news with all the other team members expect the two, possibly most important in your case, members

You’ve been close to your brothers since you were brought into this world so it wasn’t like you didn’t want to tell them

It was more or less how overprotective they could be that made you bite your tongue

And as nervous as you are, Peter is 1,000% more worried about your brother’s finding out

Like honestly can you imagine how petrified Peter would be to tell Thor and Loki you two were dating

He’d purposely walk in the opposite direction every time he saw either of the two for the first week

Couldn’t stop fumbling with his words when he spoke to either of them

Like he was terrified

It’s sort of a cliché to have protective older brothers but older brothers who were also both Gods ????

Peter felt like a deadman walking

When the day finally came that you did tell your brothers about your relationship with Peter, it was absolutely cringe worthy

Peter had been coming home to the tower after a long day at Midtown High School when he spotted you the second he stepped foot out of the elevator

His excitement had clouded his judgement as he failed to check and see if the coast was clear

“Y/n! Hey!”

He nearly tumbled over his own feet as he rushed over to you

His face was gleaming with happiness and for a brief moment you felt a smile creep to your face until you were pulled back to reality by his hand reaching out to grasp yours

Your eyes widened in shock as you stared at Peter and before you could warn him to stop, he had planted a soft kiss on your cheek

That adorable smile was glowing from his face as he reached down for your hand only to fall once you pulled your hand away

He gave you a look of confusion, clearly surprised by your lack of response

But when an awkward cough sounded from behind him, he suddenly knew why

Peter didn’t have enough time to make any sort of a move when a husky, all too familiar voice spoke up,

“Hello, man of spiders. May I ask why you just kissed our little sister?” “Oh shit- I uh, well you see I…um...she had something on her face so I uh…”

Loki would snicker in amusement at seeing the boy squirm and prolong his torture “So you kissed her?” “Yeah…” “Hm, there something you’d like to share, little one?”

It wasn’t exactly the way you were hoping to break the news to your brothers

But it was certainly one way of doing it

The rest of the night was filled with awkward tension as you and Peter had to confess the truth to your brothers, who then made you share the news with the rest of the team

Thankfully, the rest of the team pretended they were just hearing about your new relationship for the first time, seeing as no one wanted to deal with an angry Thor

Now let’s get into your relationship with Peter

Peter Parker is the most caring person in the universe

Honestly

And dating him certainly came with it’s perks

You can expect to wake up every morning with a fresh coffee and a pastry on your nightstand, courtesy of Peter

He’ll also write you a sweet little ‘good morning’ note with a sketch of spider-man hanging from a web

(( he’s actually pretty talented in the doodling department ))

Makes cute sketches of him as spiderman and you as a princess ( vv fitting)

But also draws you as a total badass saving the galaxy bc… well you are

Count on him to be the first person to greet you when the sunrises and the last person to wish you a goodnight when it falls

Gets Mr. Stark to buy you an iphone so he can teach you how to use it

Has your name as “goddess” in his phone

The first thing he does is teach you about texting so he can pay you in imessage games

Refuses to play you in battleship since you somehow have crushed him every single time

Gets slightly annoyed with the overwhelming amount of random photos you snap of him

But he knows its all new to you and finds it irritatingly adorable

Loves it when you walk home with him from school

Will also keep reminding you that you shouldn’t have walked alone all the way to Midtown High School alone

Peter often forgets that you’re Asgardian and can protect yourself just fine

But it’s so cute how protective he is

He’s very observant and notices nearly everything

Like when you’re feeling a bit homesick

He picks up on it right away and will ask Thor and/or Loki for advice

Or when you start to become bored and tired at one of Star’s parties

Peter made his way over you before you even had the chance to turn and search for him

He’d escort you back to your room and lay with you until he was positive you had fallen asleep

Kisses to the top of your head

Is the boyfriend that will take your makeup off for you if you wear any

(( and sets yours lashes on the nightstand so neatly and labels which eye they were on cause the poor boy doesn’t understand ))

Spends weeks learning how to master the intricate braids that adorn your head

It’s so cute cause he’ll sit and look up Youtube videos and try to learn how to make the different braids and is just so confused but so determined

Taking Peter to visit Asgard

“Woah- this place looks like something from Lord of the Rings! It’s awesome!” “Lord of the Rings? I’ve never met that God.” “Uh, no, it’s a movie from Earth. We can watch it when we go back.” “To Midgard?” “Midgard? No, to New York.”

Loves it when your people refer to you as “Princess Y/n”

For some reason it makes him blush

Will tell everyone back on Earth that he’s dating a princess

I could def see Peter getting annoyed and frustrated with the Asgardian men trying to flirt and win your heart

Although that’s something that already belong to Peter

And even though Peter trusts you entirely

He’s still insecure from time to time

Especially when he sees how much taller and stronger Asgardian men look in comparison to him

But he finds reassurance in the feeling of your hand in his and the gleeful smile adorning your face as you show him around your homeland

Attempting to help Peter study

Although you’re not much help to Midgardian school work “Peter, darling, I don’t have a clue what a watergate is and I haven’t an idea how that could be scandalous.”

Maths however you excelled in

And Peter was thoroughly surprised to find you had the sequence of PI memorized to the one hundredth number- and in song form

Holding your hand 24/7

Endless cuddles on the couch

And when you’re walking around together, he does that thing where he swings your hands and back forth

Movie theater dates… at the tower b/c your brothers feel the need to be in close proximity the you guys at all times

Trying ice cream for the first time with Peter at two in the morning

One of Peter’s favorite things to do with you is take you through a walk in his world

At least three times a week Peter and you will walk around the city and find new things your Asgardian self has yet to experience

Like pizza

New York pizza to be exact

And hot chocolate

Ice skating at Rockefeller Center once the weather got cold

Loves to take you for drives in the more woodsy land of New York once fall set in and the leaves began to change

But by far his favorite thing is showing you Midgardian films and movies of all sorts

He loves that you don’t judge him for nerding out over his love for films

Not to mention you actually sit and watch Star Wars with him

(( maybe it was the whole space element but Peter was just thrilled you liked it ))

But then he shows you ‘Alien’

And it was an instant regret

It took him the rest of the night to convince you that the movie was fake

You made him sleep in your room just for reassurance

Your favorite out of the films Peter played was called ‘Toy Story’

Buzz Lightyear reminded you of Thor

In terms of TV shows

F.R.I.E.N.D.S. which quickly became your guys comfort show

Parks & Rec too “That Andy fellow looks an awful lot like Starlord, don’t you think?”

Peter refuses to let you watch Black Mirror

After the whole incident with Alien

Black Mirror didn’t seem like a good idea

Constantly teasing from the rest of the Avengers

Tony just can’t help it

He loves tormenting the two of you

Especially when Thor and/or Loki are around

“Hey Peter, I thought I saw you go into Y/n’s room last night but I didn’t see you leave until the morning. Heard a lot of noise too- thought Y/n was getting attacked. What was that about?”

“Kid, I got you those condoms you asked for. How’d you manage to run out of that last box so quick? I just bought it for you a week ago!” “Messing with you, they’re just sugar packets- Thor put Peter down right now!”

Aunt May absolutely adores you

Always tells Peter how sweet you are and is constantly inviting you over for dinner

Lets you two have sleepovers in his room at her place

As long as the door stays open

Peter can’t stop laughing when you compliment May on her ability to make an amazing bowl of cereal

She thought it was a joke seeing as she burned dinner the night before to a crisp and laughs until she’s in tears

And you’re literally sitting there so confused, clearly not understanding the joke

Peter then takes you on a trip to a grocery store for the first time to show you a whole aisle full of cereal

It is then that you realize Aunt May didn’t hand make the fruity pebbles

She still laughs about it to this day

Befriending Ned and listening enthusiastically while he gives you a full speech on the franchise Star Wars

And his rant on how terrible Star Trek is in comparison

Is shocked when you ask questions out of genuine interest

Ned immediately takes a liking to you after that and asks Peter daily to invite you to hangout

Whenever Stark adds an upgrade to his suit, you’re the first person Peter shows it to

He shares quite literally everything with you

As do you to him

The rest of the Avengers love gossiping about you guys

Nat and Wanda have already started planning the wedding and Pepper has the perfect venue in mind, much to your brothers dismay

For some reason

Thor and Loki are always within reasonable distance, enough so they can keep an eye on you but also give some sense of privancy

Thor is def always the first one to step in

“Peter, please remove your hand from my sister’s behind.” “Oh uh, ye-yeah… sorry, Mr.Thor.”

Loki would find Peter amusing

He loves to mess with him whenever given the chance

“Ah, Peter. Good to see you. I’m sure Y/n informed you of our task today. Very impressed that you offered yourself as the sacrifice to the aliens-” “Wait, what? Y/n?!” “He’s kidding, Peter.”

Everyone in the Avenger’s tower knew Peter was lactose intolerant and knew the repercussions of the boy consuming any sort of dairy

(( he physically cannot leave the bathroom for a full day ))

Yet Loki regularly will swap Peter’s specially labeled almond milk with a jug of skim milk just for the hell of it

There’s something so hilarious to him about the look of panic and alarm that smacks abruptly across Peter’s face as he quickly stumbles out of the kitchen to his room

It keeps him laughing for days

You’ll just shoot your brother a look of disapproval, clearly certain it was his doing

“Loki, why did Peter run off?” “Not sure, darling sister, maybe he’s got one of those stomach bugs. I’ve heard Midgardians are prone to them…weak bodies and such.” "You switched out his milk again didn’t you.” “I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re accusing me of, little one.”

Thor is a bit more hesitant on accepting your relationship with his fellow Avenger

He trusts that Peter would never harm you

Although he did not trust that you would never be harmed because of Peter

It was risky enough that both your brothers were big names in space, as well on Earth, however

Thor knew Loki and himself were capable of protecting you but Peter?

He was just a kid, in Thor’s eyes

However the one thing that kept him from telling you this was seeing how happy Peter made you

As your older brother, Thor trusted your judgement and tried his best to be accepting of his little sister dating

And as much as he wanted to deny it, he saw crystal clear the care and love Peter gave to you and he wasn’t willing to break that for you

Still

Thor is the type of brother to barge into a room and shove himself between Peter and yourself without warning

This man does not care at all

At least Loki has the decency to give you two space as a couple

Thor does not

He is constantly third wheeling on your dates and will ‘accidentally’ walk into rooms he knows you two are in claiming he forgot something

Not that he ever grabs anything,

He’ll usually just stand and stare at the two of you until you either leave the room or ask him to leave

To which he always answers,

“No.”

But with a smile

A smug smile

PDA is something he will never be okay with

Thor will yank Peter back by the collar every time he sees his lips on yours and glare at him, “Man of spiders, I know you’re in love with my little sister but kissing her infront of me is too far.”

And Loki will physically gag just to piss you off

For the most part, your relationship with Peter is nearly perfect

It would be entirely perfect if you weren’t constantly worrying about him dying on a mission or getting hurt

But still, just like any couple, you had your moments

And when you did fight, it was typically over Peter’s safety or him not wanting you to tag along for a mission

Your common way of dealing with conflict was the silent treatment

Which is pure torture for Peter

Not only does he miss the sound of your voice

He misses having you around

Seeing your smile

Hearing you laugh from something he said

He felt terrible everytime

He’d go to Tony for advice and spend hours rambling on to him about how sorry he was for yelling at you and for adding to the fight

Tony would half listen while he worked away on a new system and suit, offering a ‘yeah’ and ‘hmm’ every few seconds which pleased Peter who thought his mentor was fully listening

And after almost two hours of his non-stop talking, Tony Stark had reached his limit

Setting his wrench down on the metal table with a thud he turned around to face the young boy

“Kid, why’re you saying all this to me and not her? I mean, I’m all ears but I’m also not Y/n. I know we’re both good looking so I can see why you mixed us up, but you should be talking to her right now.”

Similar to Peter you also had someone to confide in when the road got rocky

Loki had always been the one you shared all your secrets with

As children you were attached at the hip to both your brothers but Loki a smidgen more than Thor

Your father, Odin, had Thor at his side 24/7 growing up

While he was busy learning the ropes to ruling Asgard, Loki and yourself run amuck causing trouble left and right through the royal palace

Through the years of bonding Loki become your best friend, and you his

So when trouble struck in paradise, your older brother was the one you ran to

He’d welcome you with open arms and a questioning gaze

Loki is by far the best listener in your family

Instead of telling you what to do, he asks what you want, which is a refreshing change

After a long talk with Loki you’d search the tower high and low for Peter while ironically Peter was doing the same thing

When you did finally make-up, it felt like coming home

The apologies were so sincere and genuine

You’d end up having a sleepover in your room watching 80’s films that Peter claimed were ‘iconic’ and laying in his arms

And that’s where you felt complete

Fights never occurred often but bickering ???

DAILY

You two bickered playfully over everything under the sun

Like who’s the better superhero; Ironman or Captain American

Debates between living in New York and living in Asgard

Loves to pull up Midgardian inventions and ask you to guess what it is “Princess, what do you think this is?” “Oh! Oh! I’ve seen this one! Tony has one in his kitchen!” “Okay, so what is it?” “Yes, it’s a chicken nugget maker!” “It’s actually an air fryer but we only ever make chicken nuggets in them so I’ll give you a half point.”

Peter sneaking out of your room at the crack of dawn and sprinting to his

As much as Thor and Loki liked him and supported the relationship

He was sure they’d both team up to murder him if they caught him sleeping in your bed

Steve and Tony, who seem to be incapable of sleep, have watched him tiptoe out of your room numerous times but they only share a look of amusement then go back to their previous discussion

Playing hide-n-go-seek and tag on rainy days at the tower

Cuddling in Peter’s bed while he asks you to tell him stories about Asgard

Loves hearing about your childhood and what it’s like to grow up with siblings

Is fascinated when you tell him about Heimdall

Stealing Peter’s hoodies

Especially his Midtown High School ones

They’re insanely soft

Sweet little kisses throughout the day

He's just so sweet and gentle

Loves getting to hold you and snuggle in his bed

Most weekends you spend lounging on the couch with Peter’s head in your lap while you play with his hair

Other times you’re sitting next to Peter on his bed watching him play some video game and asking a million questions “Who is that man, Peter?” “That’s me, he’s the main character of the game. That’s Mario, babe.” “You’re not Mario- you’re Peter.” “No, the main character of this game is Mario, I’m just playing him.” “Oh… and what is that green dinosaur creature?” “That’s Yoshi!” “Adorable.”

Making out between games

In terms of... y'know... sex

Neither of you were keen on rushing the process

You had tip toed on the line multiple times yet never fully crossed it

Until you had decided to make the first real move after being together for about five months

You trusted him with all your heart so it wasn't exactly scary, but rather exciting

He had a way of making you feel safe, comfortable, and loved all at once

Lets be honest, Peter nearly fainted the first time he saw you naked

And still, no matter how many times the two of you have sex,

He worships every inch of you like it was your first time all over again

You couldn't have asked for a better lover

Dating Peter means a new adventure everyday

You’re constantly learning new things about each other and from each other

Despite coming from two very different worlds

You’ve never felt more connected to a soul until Peter came along

393 notes · View notes

inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Young Hearts Divided (3/?)

Pairing: Sirius Black x Female!Reader / James Potter x Female!Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.3k

Part Summary: As James and Sirius continue to act strangely, Y/N struggles to figure out the reason. When James asks her to do something, the pieces start to fall into place, leaving her even more confused than before.

Masterlist

James and I study for History of Magic all afternoon following copying Lily’s notes. James is lucky I actually understand History, otherwise, we’d both be in trouble. As I go over the chapter with him, he takes notes for the first time on this portion of the book. During class, he’s usually sleeping or doodling. It’s rather distracting being his seat partner, especially when he asks me to play Tic-Tac-Toe with him. One of us has to pay attention because we can depend on Lily to cover us.

“What led to the Goblin Rebellion of 1612?” I quiz James.

He taps his chin with a quill, thinking up an answer. After it takes longer than it should, I lean back in my chair with a raised brow. Unable to withhold my amusement, I snicker at my struggling friend. He’s toast, this exam is going to wreck his marks.

He whines, reaching across the table to gently grab my arm pleadingly. “Help me!”

I giggle, sliding my book toward him. “Read up. You’re going to need it!”

He whines some more, childishly pouting. “But I hate reading,” he groans, tossing his head back. As an idea pops into his head, he perks up, “summarize it for me?”

I open my mouth to protest, unsure if I’ll do it justice, but James cuts me off eagerly.

“I’ll make it up to you!” He insists. “I’ll… I’ll…” he struggles to think up compensation. Then, he snaps his fingers, pointing at me as another apparently brilliant thought crosses his mind. “I’ll take you to Hogsmeade this weekend!”

“See! You already got a part of it,” I point out, ignoring his silly offer as I bring my textbook back to me considering he’s clearly not going to use it. “Hogsmeade is where the rebellion occurred! Tell me more.”

He rolls his eyes at my seriousness, a hint of a smirk on the edge of his lips. Leaning forward, he crosses his arms on the table between us. “I’m serious Y/N,” he whispers so Professor Pince doesn’t shush us. “Let’s go to Hogsmeade this weekend.”

Our group has never missed a Hogsmeade weekend. Any excuse to mess around drunk off firewhiskey and butterbeer is our preferred free time activity. Except for Lily and Remus, they play the parents.

“James… everyone is going there this weekend…” I state a matter-of-factly with amusement before turning to write down in my notebook.

“No, I mean….” he pauses, licking his lips nervously as he avoids my eyes. Evidently, he’s unsure of his words.

I place my quill down, his hesitation earning my attention. It’s not like James to sound so anxious. What is wrong with everyone today? Did someone pour a spell in their pumpkin juice at breakfast today? It was probably a short term spell from Malfoy or Snape, a payback prank. I guess it’s a good thing I slept in.

“James,” I place my hand on his comfortingly. His eyes break away from the space between us and meet mine with amazement. “It’s okay,” I laugh softly. “You can say anything to me, safe space here.” I wave my finger in a circle to gesture to our table.

He laughs, nodding his head in understanding. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right…. I know. You’ve always been really easy to talk to Y/N. Uh, which is somewhat why I wanted to… um… ask you to Hogsmeade… You know, to go to Hogsmeade with me,” he stammers nervously, combing his fingers through his hair with his free hand.

“Go with you as you go on your date?” I seek to clarify, still kind of lost in translation.

He narrows his eyes, somewhat confused himself. “Yes…” he answers, making it sound more like a question.

I nod at a steady pace, processing his words. Okay, well, this day has been anything but average. It’s not even supper time and already two Marauders have suddenly expressed interest in me. One minute, we’re all just friends and the next two of the most infamous playboys at Hogwarts are claiming to have feelings for me. I swear to Godrick Gryffindor if Peter or Remus stop me in the hall to confess their love I’m packing my things and going into hiding. Plus, I could’ve sworn James was head over heels in love with Lily? He told me so multiple times. Whenever he gets drunk we have a heart-to-heart about it. He asks me for advice and I assure him to be himself. Could his feelings have changed without me noticing? It’s hard to believe, but not impossible I suppose.

Not wanting to hurt him, I accept the offer, “Yeah, yeah sounds good.”

He smiles brightly, enthused by my answer. “Okay, um yeah, cool!”

What harm could it do? I’m sure nothing will come from it anyway, James is pretty filthy with his affections. He’s been claiming to be in love with Lily since First Year but has dated girls since them. I’m sure I would even call it dating, they were more like flings here and there. I suspect James might just be confused or annoyed with Lily not reciprocating his affections, so he’s looking to me for some guidance. I don’t mind helping my friend figure out what he wants, as long as he doesn’t act irrationally.

One problem though, how is Sirius going to react? We aren’t exactly together, but we can’t ignore what occurred at the lake today. He’ll be with us at Hogsmeade, we always go together as a group. I hold the necklace that Sirius gave me between my fingers without James noticing. What a confusing chain of events. I’m not sure what to think. I’m not sure what either of their intentions is. I never thought any of this would ever happen. I wonder if Sirius’s outburst during lunch has something to do with James’s offer? The two seemed rather harsh with each other. James clearly knew that Sirius and I were down at the lake considering he was next to Sirius in Potions and likely read the correspondence as Marlene did. My next thoughts are: how much does he know? Does he know what Sirius said? Does he know what he gave me? If so, does that have anything to do with him asking me to Hogsmeade? Is it all a competition with him? I’m utterly lost and all I can do is see how it pans out. I don’t want to shout accusations and end up hurting someone by accident. It’s odd, I’m both looking forward to this weekend and somewhat dreading it.

James and I decide to skip dinner, staying at the library to cram for History after James gets a sudden urge to study. James finishes telling me a humorous story about his family’s vacation many years ago when we returned to the tower after sundown.

“My dad was soaked-” He describes with amusement.

“Password?” The Fat Lady interrupts as we approach.

“magia enim quisque est,” James answers, not missing a beat. He doesn’t even glance at the portrait. The Fat Lady swings open, revealing the passageway as James continues his story. “I thought my mom was going to topple over, she was laughing so hard!”

I cover my mouth, laughing at James’s words. I’ve never had the privilege of meeting the Potters like some of the others. They sound like really fun from what I’ve heard from James and Sirius.

Our friends are gathered in front of the fire. The fire is the main source of light in the room other than some weak candlesticks on the walls. Peter and Remus in opposite armchairs, with Lily sitting on the floor resting against Remus’s seat. Marlene is sitting on the floor directly in front of the fireplace, playing cards with Lily on the coffee table. Sirius sits at the far end of the couch, appearing to be venting to Remus. Everyone’s attention turns us when they hear us appearing in the Common Room. James and I stop, our shared laughter settling down as we peer at our friends.

“You two were busy,” Marlene remarks with a smirk as she lays down a card on the table.

“Yeah, you missed dinner,” Peter reminds us, sounding rather distressed by the idea.

“Eh,” James shrugs, not too fazed by the matter. He presses his hand to my back, guiding me to sit on the couch with him.

I follow his lead, not physically reacting to the presence of his hand through my mind is racing.

“We can go grab something from the kitchens later,” he adds with a wink as grabs my waist to cross in front of me and sit in the middle, between me and Sirius.

I blush, not used to receiving so much attention from James. I mean, I’ve known him since we were eleven so I’ve been the receiver of his relentless flirtatious personality, but now I’m starting to think it’s not unintentional. I ease down on the cushion, crisscrossing my legs comfortably.

“You’re not allowed to do that,” Remus warns, knowing well enough that James won’t listen. “Unless you want another months’ detention.”

James casually rests his arm on my leg as if he’s done it a thousand times before. Lily and Marlene silently look up from their cards, taking note of the action. They look between me and James’s arm as his thumb rubs against my knee. I share their looks of astonishment without the boys noticing as they’re too distracted by James and Remus going back and forth. I have no doubt this will be the hot topic when we head to bed. I exhale deeply, subconsciously picking at my nails, a nervous habit.

“Did you hear what happened to that First Year in Herbology?” Lily is quick to change the subject. “Apparently a Slytherin boy fainted!”

“Isn’t there a kid who faints every year on Mandrake day?” Marlene laughs, returning to their card game.

“Not surprised it was a Slytherin,” James remarks mockingly with a chuckle. “They’re such pansies.”

I frown at James’s words, my eyes focused on my lap. I have friends in Slytherin, they’re decent people. Granted, their house has a bad reputation, but that doesn’t mean they’re all bad. I have family members who were in Slytherin, they’re not evil or anything. Shoot, I could’ve been a Slytherin, the Sorting Hat debated on it. It saw motivation and cunningness in me, in fact, it nearly outweighed my Gryffindor qualities.

“Forget that!” Peter nearly bursts with excitement in his chair next to me. “Did you hear about Snape?!”

“Peter!” Lily snaps uncharacteristically at the boy.

James and I jump slightly at the rudeness of Lily’s outburst, my hand gripping his on my knee instinctively. James glances down at my hand and I swiftly remove it. Peter cowers into his chair as though he was just reprimanded by a parent. My eyes flicker between the two, brows high like everyone else’s, except for James who continues to look at me admiringly.

“What happened?” Sirius finally speaks, grumbling disinterestedly. Did he just miss Lily snapping? After that, he still has the guts to ask what happened? That’s bold.

Lily glares at the jet black-haired boy. I lean forward peering in front of James to see Sirius’s reaction. He appears unfazed, slouching into the cushion beside James. His features are sharp, covered with evident frustration and annoyance.

On that note, I think I’m going to excuse myself before things get too heated. Frankly, I don’t really care what happened with Snape. The boys obsess over picking on him and Lily worries for her childhood friend. Though I don’t condone bullying, I don’t care to get involved. I’m civil with both parties.

“I’m going to head to bed,” I announce, already moving to stand up.

Protests erupt amongst the group, each of them talking over each other. The only silent parties are James and Sirius. Sirius hadn’t reacted, starring ahead at the fire with a frown.

James peers up at me with disappointed eyes, waiting for silence. “But I thought we were going to sneak down to the kitchens?” He pouts, holding my hand loosely.

“And risk getting a detention?” I chuckle at the boy.

“That didn’t seem to stop you this afternoon,” Sirius mumbles bitterly under his breath, not having the decency to look at me in the eye as does.

James looks over his shoulder at his best friend. In unison, our friends begin to talk over each other again, this time exchanging their farewells and excuses for heading to bed. I’ve never seen Lily shove cards into their box so urgently before. I thought Remus was going to trip over himself, he leaped up so quickly from his seat. Now, the three of us are left alone in the Common Room. Sirius hasn’t even flinched once despite the chaos that just occurred around him. His eyes remain in narrow slits as they focus ahead on the burning fire. James burns holes into his friend, waiting for some sort of reaction. His hand continues to hold mine, it’s the only reason I’m still here. I would’ve safely run off with the others given the chance. I sort of feel like I’m rudely watching a private moment between best friends. Do I say something? In my defense, I wanted to leave before everyone else did.

Building up the courage to break the silence, I slip my hand from James’s and stutter, “I’m gonna… I’m gonna go.” Hopefully, that won’t make either of them burst or something. Urgently, I pick up my books off the side table next to the couch.

James and Sirius both snap their heads in my direction. Okay, not what I had hoped. I freeze, unsure of what to do or say. I have two pairs of eyes pouring into me. One pair black, the other hazel. I press my books to my chest nervously.

Suddenly, the sound of the Fat Lady opening interrupts us. Professor McGonagall appears from the dark archway in her robe and cap. Her distraught expression makes my heart sink. James and Sirius both fly up from their seated positions behind me, sharing in my worry. Already predicting what this may be about, I’m too afraid to move.

__________________________________

Tags: @hannah220506 @devilstradegy

Masterlist

115 notes · View notes

lesbianwillbond · 3 years

Text

been thinking a lot about how tumblr—both the website and userbase—tries to paint tumblr as this wonderful place for creative minds to come and thrive, share their work, have others appreciate their work, be recognized for their creativity. and that is true in a sense, if you go to the right places and blogs. but really if you’re a creative and you share your work on here you’ll notice that, really, unless you have a dedicated following who specifically follow you for your work, you don’t get recognized unless your work is fanfiction or gifs.

if you’re a creator on here and you create original art, fanart, original stories, fashion, makeup, original poetry, photography, etc. your work does not get recognized. you can look at the notes on your latest, for example, painting and see two likes from mutuals and five reblogs from yourself trying to get people to see it. do you know how disheartening that is? discouraging? all the other dis- words? to put hours of work into a piece of art you’re incredibly proud of and have no one even acknowledge it? you start getting it in your head that oh shit, maybe i’m not as talented as i think i am, i’m not holly warburton or salman toor so my art doesn’t matter. so you stop creating, because no one is there to celebrate it with you, and you think everything you create isn’t even worth celebrating in the end so why try? and you feel empty and sad because this thing that once made you so, so happy now symbolizes failure and emptiness.

people say that artists biggest critics are themselves, and that’s true, but there are reasons for it. we compare our work to others naturally. that just happens. but when you combine the comparison to other artists and the fact that they’re getting recognized and you see their art everywhere and you hardly get a second glance, that really takes a toll on you.

and then the non-creatives on this website go around preaching to people to reblog artwork! support artists! get their work out there! when they don’t even take their own advice. it just makes creators feel worse, seeing people reblog a post about the poor reblog-to-like ratios on their art, a doodle about an artist getting tossed a like or reblog, more than they reblog actual art.

but it isn’t all art that’s ignored and scrolled past, maybe a single like tossed haphazardly toward the post. like i said, fanfiction and gifsets are the only pieces of art that really get recognized. i’m not saying those are bad things unworthy of the recognition, but it just adds another layer to the horrible treatment of other artists on here. we see that people are capable of appreciating art, we see the notes that have a higher number of reblogs than likes, we see the tags yelling about this scene and that scene and oh the colouring! people are capable of appreciating art, so is it me? is it me that isn’t making things to decent standards? and it hurts deeper because fanfiction takes so much more time to interact with than a painting. knowing that people would rather set aside an entire hour to read a fanfiction and then reblog it with tags screaming about whatever than reblog a painting with an omg the shading! or even just a this is so good! is yet another brick to the weight and struggle of being heard on tumblr.

and then artists on tumblr will occasionally get asks or messages from anons or mutuals asking why they don’t post art anymore, why they haven’t posted new anything in six months. go look at the notes of my latest drawing, is that an answer enough? i don’t post any because even if people are seeing it, they act like they don’t. they scroll directly past it. it takes two clicks to reblog a post, and even that’s too difficult. noncreatives don’t get to complain when creators stop posting their art when they don’t even acknowledge it. if you see a piece of art you like, a painting, pretty makeup, an original poem, etc, fuckinh let the creator know, or else we’ll think it’s not good enough, we’re not good enough, not talented, not worth anyone’s time, and start beating ourselves up over it.

#just wanted to ramble #don’t get me started on compilation posts #en

4 notes · View notes

strikearose · 3 years

Text

Uncovering Passione's Underside (1/1) GIOMIS

What one can learn by listening to what the secretive Passione's staff have to say about their Don... One-shot, GioMis, Post-canon, Humor, G+ You can also read it on ao3 here!

For as long as many Passione members could recall, Agnese Bianchi had always been there, grumbling as she would mop the hall floor and nagging at fellow cleaning employees and ruthless gang members all alike. It didn't matter how long their felonious resumes were, she simply couldn't stand slackers. Years of working within that specific industry had forged her strong character - she was honest, hardworking, and probably a tad too outspoken too about her aversion for mobsters, but she still knew better than to ask silly questions like some other people did.

The housekeeper glared at the man who'd been chatting up the new cleaner (and therefore, preventing her from mopping up the floor as she had explicitly urged her to) for the last half hour. His name was Trado, Trattore, or something that sounded way too much like Tradittore anyway: he was one of the Don's many henchmen. Ever since he had started working there, he had taken that annoying habit of snooping everywhere, making idle chitchat with the household staff during rush hour.

The old maid cleared her throat, grabbed her cleaning cart handles, and pushed it unceremoniously between the pair. "Is that what you call cleaning the reception room? Signore Giovanna wants it sparkling clean: go fix it now or apply for another job already!"

Her harsh tone worked just fine: the young employee, caught red-handed slacking work, gasped in surprise and mumbled a brief apology before leaving in a hurry. The man, however, didn't seem the least concerned about her admonition. He simply smiled and raised his hands in self-defense - and lord if there was a way he could possibly piss her off even more.

Agnese chose to simply disregard his presence and rummaged through her pockets to find the key she needed.

Click.

As it opened, she began to push her cleaning cart over the door sill with some difficulty.

"Need some help?"

Agnese sighed when she realized he was still there. Who the hell was he taking her for?

"I don't. As always, I'm doing just fine on my own."

To her dismay, it seemed that her sharp answer didn't manage to get rid of the gangster. For God's sake, couldn't he just go bother someone else, literally anyone but her? There was nothing Agnese hated more than to have someone watch her every move.

...

Or perhaps slackers.

Slackers who intended on watching her every move.

"So, for how long have you been working there? They say you'll bury us all..."

Agnese rolled her eyes as she finally managed to get her cart through the doorway.

"Long enough to have seen my fair share of slackers come and go..." The cleaning lady truly wished he'd get the memo this time. She had seen it all: louts in suits with fake good manners and scarred faces, but also men that seemed to be way too nice and curious for their own good. To her, that last species was the worst: they were wolves in sheep's clothing.

But of course, Trado (or Trattore or whatever was his name) didn't appreciate the subtlety of her response, and he continued his questioning: "You've been there long enough to have known the former boss, right? The one before Don Giovanna, a real freak apparently... "

Agnese tensed at that: she didn't like where the conversation was heading. She was unfortunately all too familiar with those office gossips. A little over five years ago now, Passione had gone from having no official face, to Giorno Giovanna's gracing every streets' corners. Rumors had it that the young, brilliant, man had brutally murdered the Original Don in the span of a week. Others thought that Giovanna's was his son and that the boss had simply granted himself a well-deserved retirement.

She couldn't care less about what had truly happened: Don Giovanna gave her a monthly salary as well as direct, concrete instructions. And those were the two things that mattered to her. He was good at that, giving clear orders to the people to his service. And it was nicer to serve him than to obey blindly the weird requests she'd receive by mail like before.

"Don't you really have anywhere else to go?", the cleaning lady suddenly turned to the man she had heard approaching but was relieved to see that he had not dared to enter the Don's office. He was looking at her, peering at what she was doing, from the door's threshold. "If you want a piece of advice, stop being so damn noisy."

The gangster laughed and at that, Agnese wished she could just sweep him out of the room.

"Relax! I'm new here, I'm just curious. Don Giovanna's pretty nice, he won't murder us over some harmless chitchat."

The Boss of a criminal organization, a nice man?

It was Agnese's turn to snort.

Yeah, she guessed it was the kind of public image he was adamantly working on And some people seemed to believe it: newspapers were reporting less traffic, a decline in thugs harming citizens' and tourists' safety. The astounding sums of money he was giving to local shelters, hospitals, and public schools were also common knowledge: rumors had it that the city council was even thinking of naming the brand-new biological museum, founded thanks to his many donations, after him.

As a boss, Agnese considered him to be pretty decent - well, as decent as being the Don of a criminal organization could possibly allow him to be considered. After all, he was well-educated enough not to leave clothes and magazines scattered everywhere like the previous boss and some of his most favored underlings did.

But as a man, there was no way she could possibly tell if he was nice. Agnese was just an old, tired cleaning lady: she never pried into the Don's private life even though she guessed there were things that couldn't escape her lack of malicious curiosity. Details such as notes and silly doodles scribbled on his desk, scraps of paper (of extremely dubious content) discarded in the garbage can she needed to empty or sweaters which were at least two sizes too big for him lying on the normally spotless ground of his room...

Sighing, the old maid was about to close the door behind her when she noticed it: the stupid smirk on the gangster's face. The stupid knowing smirk they always had whenever they would bring up the one topic she had no desire to discuss.

How she wished she could just spray him with a window cleaner to wipe it out of his face.

"You know people say 'bout them, right? I'm sure it's complete bullshit but..."

The answer Agnese gave him was the same she would lecture her own underlings with: "One thing I know for sure is that the Underboss always carries his gun on him... And the Don sure doesn't need one to silence people. So just drop it and mind your own business."

With a last sigh, she finally shut the door closed and started her heavy work. However, even though the noisy snoop had left, Agnese felt her mind drift to her first encounter with the Don as she was dusting the ancient bookcase.

It had happened about four years ago, on a late December afternoon - was it because she had arrived too early or because he had stayed in his office later than usual, but the door had been left open so she had loudly pushed her cart inside. The old cleaning lady had instantly understood her mistake - after all, there was little mystery about whom that man was... Who else would dare to enter the big boss's office in his absence?

Golden locks, emerald eyes looking right at her with mild surprise: he obviously had not been expecting her.

"Oh, it's already that time of the day," his chin tilted high and proud, the mafia boss had flatly made that statement.

Not knowing what to say, Agnese had simply nodded and taken a discreet look at the massive clock behind him. 8:17 pm. He was definitely the one behind schedule, not her: she was just on time.

Not that she could say it aloud anyway.

"I didn't know you were still in there, Signore Giovanna," while her head was slightly bowed as a sign of respect, she had not apologized for her intrusion. She had nothing to apologize for: boss or not, he was the one messing with the established schedule. "I'll come back to clean your office later."

Don Giovanna had however soon dismissed her concern with a motion of his hand.

"It's fine, you can start working now. I was about to leave anyway."

The old housemaid nodded and was about to approach the bookcase when she had stopped right on her track, seeing the state of the ancient Victorian carpet. The boss had a rather keen hearing as he almost instantly turned his attention away from his papers to peer at Agnese, understanding what the problem was right away.

The blood hadn't just spattered on the carpet - there were traces of it on the sofa. And on the cushions. As well as on the desk's marble border.

And of course, the Don had to insist on furnishing his office with pristine white furnitures - even the smallest stain could be spotted from miles away.

Well, at least to look at the bright sight, Agnese realized that she wasn't the one who had to take care of the body, to each, his own mess: scrubbing out the carpet was already going to be a real nightmare.

"I apologize for that," the voice of her employer was surprisingly gentle, and it had taken her off guard. "I'll make sure the floor is covered properly next time."

As unbelievable as it might sound, the Don had kept true to his word: she hadn't been able to find a single drop of blood in his office ever since.

And she had even gotten a raise in the following week.

Rumors had it that Don Giovanna was capable of prodigious deeds that a rational mind could not possibly explain: that dazzling smile of his could enchant things and bend them to his will. Some prominent figures from all parts of the world, whose identities shall remain hidden, had apparently come out of his office miraculously cured. But rumors also had it that the reason why his public appearances were becoming more and more scarce was because of a growing sensitivity to daylight.

So Agnese paid very little to no regard to them. Most of the time, like Tradutti had stated, it was indeed complete bullshit.

However, later that night, as she undid her bandages to observe the state of the burn on a forearm (a stupid domestic accident involving a boiling teapot), Agnese was amazed to find her epidermis completely smooth. There was no more blistering or dead skin: her forearm was of a softness that contrasted with the rest of her body:the astronomical amount of tiger balm and aloe vera used could not possibly explain that. So as much of a skeptic as she was, the cleaning lady was forced to admit that it had to be somehow related to her earlier encounter with the Don.

As soon as she had stepped outside his office after tidying it, she had spotted the mafia boss in the hallway. He was accompanied by five or six men dressed in equally expensive suits. Among them was a face quite familiar to her: the city mayor who was making it to the news because of yet another corruption scandal.

The last thing she needed was to get involved in this ugly mess, so the cleaning lady kept her head high and bravely pushed her cart forwards. What she wasn't expecting however was for the Don to stop her.

"Did you injure yourself?"

She had had no choice but to peer down too at her bandage and lie through her teeth: "It's nothing, Signore."

His face showed no emotion, but he took a step towards her and delicately grabbed the injured arm before she could protest. His grip was somehow gentle but tight: there was no way she could escape from it. It was a literal iron fist in a velvet glove.

Agnese could still recall feeling the gazes of the Mayor and his bodyguards on her, they had also stopped walking to stare at her. Her heart rate had momentarily quickened when the Don's hands had brushed over her wound, his emerald eyes never leaving her confused expression. A sharp pain had set her wrist on fire... And then nothing.

She no longer felt a thing - it was as if it had never happened: Don Giovanna had taken a step back and addressed his subordinates, and they all had resumed their walk, any concern about the poor old maid definitely forgotten. The only one who had graced her with something (a strangely amused smile) before leaving was Guido Mista.

The Underboss truly was something. He often reminded Agnese of her own son: way too careless and untidy. His room was a literal nightmare to clean: most of his cashmere sweaters (which he had no problem leaving on the floor for all that mattered) needed to be hand-washed, and he also had the specificity of returning several times a month completely riddled with bullets.

The fact that he was somehow still alive despite his many injuries was as much a real blessing to him that it was a curse for her.

After all, Agnese was the one who had to clean up after him: and there was nothing easier than to track him because with Underboss Mista came blood everywhere.

Everywhere.

From the pavement outside to the sheets of a certain person whose name shall remain unknown.

...

The kitchen timer rang and Agnese was brought back to reality.

She couldn't say for sure if the Don was responsible for this miracle, but she still wished he could have also helped with her rheumatism too.

━━━━━ ༻🌱༺ ━━━━━

Unlike Agnese, Rolfo Giardino was still fairly new at that whole managing-not-to-get-mixed-up-in-mafia-mess-while-working-for-them dilemma. This gardener may have had twenty years of experience, nothing could have possibly prepared him for what was about to come.

The headquarters' gardens themselves were very pleasant - they were spacious and ideally located. Starting from scratch, that is to say from an austere backyard where some pathetic trees were beginning to wither to this authentic example of Giardino all'italiana, adorned with classical sculptures, flowering shrubs, fountains and ornamental parterres, had not been easy at first but Signore Giovanna had agreed to pay the price without thinking twice and the result was worth it.

Now that it was done, now that Rolfo and his team only had to maintain the garden (meaning watering the flowers and cutting the hedges one or two times a week), he guessed the job would be pretty nice if it weren't for all those mobsters who, for some reason he still couldn't gather, enjoyed watching him work. That, as well as those dreadful echoes of gunfire and screams which would shatter from time to time the peaceful atmosphere of the garden.

The rustling of water, the birds' chirping, a loud explosion from within the building... A nice sunny day overall.

Some of his employees were still refusing to work there despite his best attempts to reassure them: for as long as they would stay away from the actual building, it was not like something could happen to them, right? Still, they were places where even Rolfo himself did not like to approach, near the window overlooking what he thought was the Big Boss's office for instance. He had been forced to come close (way too close) to it because of his client's special request to have ivy and white roses gambling along this wall.

He had started working on it on a day when the weather was so mild that the window had apparently been cracked open for once - and the uncanny noises and groans that had escaped through it had scared the gardener to death. He hadn't dared to peer inside to find out what was really happening: the last thing he needed to know was what the Don of Passione's private torture sessions consisted of. Ever since that unfortunate incident, Rolfo had not ventured any closer to the damn white rosebushes. The branches were becoming too long, they were clearly starting to block the path of light, but as long as the Don didn't make any complaint, Rolfo would leave them be.

But on that day, however, the poor gardener saw red as his eyes fell on the figure loitering near that damn window: who was that son of a bitch was stepping on his flower beds!

"Hey you fucking moron: Move! Can't you see you're ruinin' my work?" Rolfo's shout managed to hit the bull's eye. The criminal was startled by it and half a dozen of armed men (probably criminals too) suddenly burst out the building to see what the hell was happening. He sprinted in the direction of the jerk and threw his pair of pruning shears at him. The gardening tool narrowly missed him - it crashed against the window instead (which, thank lord, did not shatter after the impact), but still made him leave. The stern face of Giorno Giovanna soon appeared, his head comically peaking out the building.

The Big Boss frowned when he realized that five of his men were gathered outside, frantically looking for someone, and took a deep breath: "Did one of you just threw a rock at my window?" He sounded confused, and to his credit, that was quite understandable.

Rolfo felt all adrenaline leave him abruptly - he could feel on him the murderous glares of literal murderers, who would have probably murdered him on the spot were it not for the presence of their Big Boss. He had no choice but to come clean: "Uhh, I do believe it was my pruners, Signore. I apologize, I swear they weren't aimed at you. It was for that damn...- uhh, I mean, that employee of yours!"

The Don didn't seem the slightest taken aback by the choice of weapon. He ran a hand through his braided locked and motioned for the others to go.

"You're saying that someone was eavesdropping on me just now?"

Rolfo looked down for a moment before answering: "Uhh, probably? I mean, he was stomping on my rosebushes near your window, that's for sure. They're Blanche Moreau's you know? They took weeks to arrive from France, weeks to finally blossom in Italy's sunlight!"

The mafia boss frowned at that, and Rolfo just knew he understood how valuable these roses were. After all, the Don seemed to be pretty knowledgeable about plants and lots of stuff: rumors had it that they were going to name that new museum after him so...

Signore Giovanna looked behind him and seemed to be addressing someone in the room: "Make sure to find him."

Curiosity overcame his initial reserve: standing on tiptoe, the gardener finally peered at the window to see what was happening inside. The office seemed incredibly spacious and clean: a dark-haired man, behind the desk, was adjusting the position of his cap on his head.

"Kay, I'll climb down the window to catch him faster! The fucker must be hiding somewhere close!," as soon as the man finished speaking, Rolfo couldn't help but react straight away.

"No, you can't do that! You'll ruin the other bushes!"

Both mafiosi looked at him for a moment and the old gardener realized he might have spoken out of turn, but the Don settled the matter for them anyway:

"He's right, I do like these Blanche Moreau's: go around my office Mista. And please, your zipper." That last part had been uttered quietly, but Rolfo had still managed to pick up on it. His devout Catholic mind would probably have been offended by it were it not for the sudden realization which left him quivering.

How on earth was he able to peak so clearly at the window now...?

"That fucking son of a bitch!", at that the mafia boss frowned and looked at him quizzically, but Rolfo couldn't halt the stream of profanities coming out of his mouth. It was too late. "He chopped it off! The whole branch!! It's all gone!"

Rolfo had promised his wife he would never get too close to the mafia, even though those paychecks sure were quite weighty. And yet as he was now, comfortably sitting in a well-made leather seat, a cup of coffee in his hand, he thought that for a first time within the shady building he had tried to avoid entering for so long, things were actually looking pretty normal. A week had passed since the unfortunate roses incident, and he had been surprised to receive after a subsequent sick leave a call from the Don's office. He didn't really have much choice, so he had shown up on time and was now patiently waiting in the lobby.

"Don Giovanna will now receive you."

Rolfo followed without a word the pretty secretary - she too looked way too customarily pretty to be involved in that kind of business. It was only when he passed under the massive arch of the door that he became fully aware of what was happening: the head of the Italian mafia had summoned him here.

As expected, it was the Don's spacious office, the one he had managed to catch a glimpse of through the window free of rose branches. The room appeared to be spotlessly clean - hell, it even smelled like a mixture of disinfectant and fresh lemon. Definitely not what he was expecting it to look like. Oddly enough, the very first thing he noticed was the tarp on the floor: that gaudy blue plastic was seriously clashing with the rest of the pristine white furnishings.

"Good afternoon, Signore Giardino. Is that the man you spotted by my window the other day?," Rolfo met the gaze of the mafia boss who was calmly standing to what soon turned out to be a man in bad shape, feet and fists bound onto the chair.

On the other side of the suspect, nonchalantly propped against the desk, was the gangster who had wanted to hop out the window.

All three of them were looking at the gardener expectantly, and he heard behind him the sound of the door closing. Of course, the pretty secretary couldn't stay.

"I can't say for sure Signore. See, I was so focused on the combat boots trampling my bushes that I didn't pay too much attention to his face..."

He hated the bastard who had wrecked his work, sure, but to rush him to such a tragic fate...

"Cool, then check it out!," the underboss had spoken with a casualness contrasting with the cruelty of the angle in which he twisted the poor man's leg. Rolfo had no choice but to look at the sole of his boot.

...

The fucking bastard.

There were still manure and rose petals stuck to it. And those were no common rose petals - they were large, fluffy and creamy white. They had been violently snatched away from a Blanche Moreau's sepal.

The gardener hardly needed to speak up to convince the mafia boss - the lethal look he was giving the tied-up man was already enough evidence.

Umberto Tradduto's fate had just been sealed.

Rolfo couldn't say what prompted him to look outside, but after that he only overheard bits of the conversation whispered in front of him: what was he was seeing right now was far more chocking anyway:

"I leave it to you for now Mista. I'll dispose of him later."

"Another donation to the museum?"

"Not this time. I think he'll make a fine aphid instead, that way our gardener will be able to settle his score with him."

Rolfo wasn't even pretending to be listening to what was being said anymore. He couldn't believe his eyes. He took a step towards the window and the two mafiosi, deep in their discussion, didn't notice it immediately.

"Keep your evening free, we'll be paying a visit to the mayor tonight. I'm getting tired of the spies he keeps sending here."

"Tonight? Hey, do you know how much it cost me to book the entire restaurant?"

The Don cleared his throat as if suddenly reminded of the other two's presence: "The sooner the better. I'm sure she won't mind. You'll reschedule your date later."

Mista was about to protest, but he fell silent as he realized where the gardener was standing: "Hey man, what the...-"

But Rolfo overstepped his role again to cut him off. His eyes shining with emotion, he turned towards the mighty Giorno Giovanna and addressed him as if he was a true deity.

"How...- How did you...? This is prodigious Signore!"

Behind him, blocking the light from the window, were proudly standing three beautiful unscathed roses branches.

━━━━━ ༻ 🚗 ༺ ━━━━━

Alfredo waked up completely startled as he heard someone bang on his window: dozing off at the wheel was a rookie mistake, he was well aware of that - but still.

"Hey open up!"

The underboss' voice was agitated - something very rare for such an easy-going man, so Alfredo immediately unlocked the doors and got out of the vehicle to assist him. Mista was backing up the big boss, a hand wrapped under his shoulders to help him stand.

The driver shot a panicked look at the small cottage they had just come from: what the hell had just happened in there?

Alfredo glanced at the Don's patent leather shoes - he was dressed as reverently as usual - and then at the underboss' worn-out leather jacket: even though they were clothed as if they were going to very different events, they had asked him to drop them at the same address: the mayor's private country hous. He had followed the itinerary scribbled on the paper an informer had given him a few hours before. It was the driver's special talent: being resourceful. Even without a precise address, he always knew how to bring his customers to the desired place.

His clients never asked him how it worked, and in return, he never made any remark on the state they would return to the car in. Or to question why they seemed so keen to surprise the mayor at such a late hour of the evening.

Alfredo was even willing to give an extra hand if needed, occasionally overstepping his role of a simple driver if the client was likely to be a good tipper.

He opened the passenger door for the mafia boss, but to his great surprise the latter stopped him right there:

"I'm fine. Just open the trunk instead."

Alfredo tensed up but said nothing as he went back to his seat to retrieve his leather gloves.

It was another kind of extra service: helping them to get rid of incriminating clues. Well, it wouldn't be the first body dumped in the back of his precious vehicle, and certainly not the last. As long as they would pay for the subsequential cleanup, he didn't mind.

"How many bottles have you stolen?," The underboss had ushered that question to the boss not discreetly enough, and the driver allowed himself a relieved sigh.

No bodies on the horizon, then?

No scandal of the mayor's disappearance making the headlines on the next day?

Great, he'd be able to go back to bed sooner.

As he passed next to the two mafiosi to open the trunk, Alfredo noticed the two bottles of prestigious champagne that the Don was clutching tightly against his. chest. Oh wow. The underboss, on the other hand, was eyeing Giorno with a bewildered look, as if it had just occurred to him that the mysterious gigantic box he had been forced to carry from the cottage contained more bottles.

"Guido please, go fetch me a last one," the Don was less assertive than usual - you could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

Alfredo awkwardly stood next to them in silence as he waited for his next instructions. Charcoal and emerald eyes were engaged in a long, fierce battle of dominance, neither of them breaking contact. Hell, it even seemed to Alfredo at some point that the Don fluttered his lashes - but that could also be exhaustion talking.

Years of working within that specific industry had taught Alfredo how they would inevitably settle that growing tension between them.

Once again, for as long as they would pay for the subsequential seats cleaning, he didn't care. It wouldn't be the first indecent make-out session to happen at the back of his precious vehicle, and probably not the last.

A partition wall was always between Alfredo and his clients. Until now, he had never managed to catch them red-handed, but he had heard of those rumors. And he, better than anyone else certainly, knew for a fact that the Don had never sought to have good company brought to him. He'd always travel to his secondary residence alone while the underboss was the kind of man who preferred to drive there by himself.

Apart from the occasional names slips, he had never witnessed any tender gesture, he had never overheard anything remotely ambiguous. The details that had tipped him off were more subtle, or well usually at least they were. They would simply sit a little too close to one another, with no free seat between them - the pair was never five feet apart so that to speak. But right now, unless he would turn off the parking lights, there was no way Alfredo could pretend he wasn't seeing the Don's right hand slowly lowering far too low along the other's back. It was clearly no longer a question of keeping his balance.

"Fine," the Don let out a dramatic sigh and the driver nearly said hallelujah - now that he had admitted defeat, they would be able to leave at last! "If you won't do it, then fine I'll ask our driver instead."

Holy shit, what the hell was going on that night?

Alfredo quietly took a step back to exit the scene but it was too late - both mafiosi were already looking at him. If they were seriously intending on making him break into the mayor's house, he sure hoped they were ready to give a real good tip.

Fortunately, the underboss shook his head and rolled his eyes (had they just swapped personalities?), before reluctantly talking: "'kay you win I'll go. But then, we're outta here." Mista put the box inside the trunk and headed back to the cottage, leaving the driver in the company of the big boss who didn't seem quite inclined to enter the car yet. So Alfredo had no choice but to stay with him outside, on the chilly night and very awkward silence.

It was only after the third hiccup of the Don that the realization came down to him: he wasn't injured by any means, he was just completely drunk.

"Umm," Alfredo knew he wasn't supposed to question his boss, but the silence between them was becoming seriously uncomfortable. "So were you celebrating something Signore?"

The mafia boss looked at him for a long moment - god, the poor driver sure hoped he hadn't made a mistake, before shrugging: "Not really. I simply like Champagne, especially when I'm not the one paying for it."

Who could have thought that someone who spent so much on luxury clothes could be stingy?

Alfredo decided to politely answer. "Yes, I've heard you own several vineyards in Europe Signore. It's clever, I'm sure you never run out it..."

At that, the mighty Giorno Giovanna ungraciously hiccuped again, and the driver had the decency to pretend not to notice it.

"Mhhh.. You don't get it," had the mafia boss just snorted in contempt? "It's not so much about the Champagne itself as it is about the pure satisfaction of having taken possession of it... The mere contentment in knowing that the stupid mayor will never be able to savor it now that it's mine, you know?"

No, of course, not. There was no way Alfredo could possibly relate to that: it must be one of those crazy rich people whims.

Not that he could say it out loud, of course. The night was getting colder and colder, so he hoped the underboss wouldn't take long to be back.

"Would you like a bottle?," the Don's question took him by surprise so the driver, out of reflex, shook his head.

"Good, or you would have had to convince Mista to go back."

The stingy rich bastard.

Alfredo couldn't believe he was thinking that of him, in any other situation he would never have allowed himself to think that of Giorno Giovanna, but there were at least eight bottles in the trunk, he had seen them. And the Don knew that.

Fortunately, the underboss chose that exact moment to reappear and slam the trunk door shut after charging it with two other bottles.

Discreet much?

But whatever, the Don seemed rather pleased with that and finally agreed to go inside the car - his customers' satisfaction was what mattered the most to Alfredo.

After all, with good service came good tippers.

And that night, in exchange for the obvious promise to keep his mouth shut about what he had witnessed, the underboss sure went overboard with the tip.

━━━━━ ༻ 🧹 ༺ ━━━━━

It was now 8:20 a.m.: even though the day had started way earlier for Agnese, she had had to wait for the mobsters living upstairs to rise and shine, so she could proceed to clean their rooms. It was by far the task she hated the most: grabbing her heavy cleaning cart, she pushed it towards what had to be the cleanest place of them all. The Don's private quarters, starting with his excessively large bathroom: since the fancy tiles there took the longest to dry, she would then continue with his connected bedroom.

However, as soon as she stepped foot inside, Agnese almost fainted at the horrible sight that met her eyes.

Clothes, confetti and popped balloons were scattered everywhere, pieces of glass were covering the soaked floor, and an astronomical amount of what furiously smelled like Champagne had been dumped into the bathtub, splattering the walls and the carpet- hell, it even seemed like some of it was still fizzing inside.

Up until now, she had thought that she had seen it all, that nothing that the most wicked mind was capable of, could possibly surprise her. But that was a whole new level of a mess.

Thankfully, the inscription on a balloon (the survivor, the only one that had not exploded yet) was what prompted her not to hand the culprit her immediate resignation letter.

The Don's birthday would only happen once a year.

And with some sheer luck, she'd be able to negotiate her well-deserved retirement before the next one.

That morning, Guido woke up because of a cuss word that reminded him very much of his native Italian countryside. He had no idea what time it was: Giorno's expensive alarm clock having been inadvertently smashed the night before. He yawned gleefully and stretched out his arms before turning to face the lumpy shape beside him.

The mighty Giorno Giovanna, drool on his chin, was muffled in his blanket, and it didn't seem from the look of it that he'd be getting up any time soon.

He was probably dealing with a hell of a hangover right now - served him right for the astronomical quantity of Champagne in which he had literally bathed and drowned. Giorno would decidedly never learn from his past mistakes. Well, he was very much looking forward to taunting his lover for years about that unfortunate late birthday episode.

There was no way the mafia boss would be able to conduct his meetings of the day - changing the planning wasn't something to worry about even though it would piss the hell out of Fugo for sure. Feeling compassionate about what was awaiting Giorno, he gently patted what he thought was his head (?) and smiled as he heard him grumble in return. How cute.

Guido finally stood up to start his day, he would smuggle him some Ibuproben later but first thing first, his much-awaited morning tinkle. And a long hot shower. Yeah, that way he would perhaps find a ploy to avoid dealing with Giorno's responsibilities instead of him. While he was not hungover, the late night's events had completely drained him of his energy.

Giorno's bathroom truly was something: it was way more spacious and tidier than his own. To him, it was a literal spa: cool extra-powerful water jets, a gigantic glass shower cabin AND a massive marble bathtub, a myriad of bottles of heavenly-smelling shampoo, conditioners, shower gels and body lotions everywhere - hell, there was even a housekeeper politely handing him a towel.

...

Holy shit.

Trying his best to cover his naked glory, Guido Mista could only stutter pitifully:

"Uhh.. Yeah, so about that new raise of yours we were discussin' the other day..."

This would only be the fourth time of the year, so at this point...

#giomis #misgio #misgio fanfic #giomis fanfic #misgio fic #giomis fic #giomis fanfiction #misgio fanfiction #giorno x mista #mista x giorno #one shot #giomis oneshot

15 notes · View notes

jisungsmochi · 4 years

Text

the coffee shop boy - njm

new coffee shop employee! jaemin / little rivalry b/w reader x jaemin hehe / just lots of teasing eachother and some fluff too

some references to my jeno imagine for my nct dream job au series!

link to my masterlist so you can read the others!

a/n: inspired by katie & aiden’s story in ‘alexa & katie’ on netflix! pls stream it hehe

word count: 3.9k - hope you all enjoy :)

the first time you met na jaemin was in front of the cafe you worked at. your manager was running a donation drive where customers could donate toys or books for the local children’s hospital. you offered to bake complementary cookies for each person who donated. so there you were, standing outside the cafe, handing out cookies. you swore you turned away for one second, when you heard someone halt infront of the stand. the person swiftly grabbed a handful of cookies, shoving one into their mouth. you turn back around, glaring at the clueless boy infront of you.

“excuse me! those are only for people who have donated” you sternly informed, the boy still not having any sign of regret,

“my bad, i just see free cookies” he smirked, taking another bite of one. you reached to grab the others that were in his hands, but he ended up pulling away before you could reach him. you felt your body tip over the table, the plate of cookies and some donations, falling onto the ground. you loudly groan to yourself, quickly standing up and brushing off any dirt on your apron. your manager, doyoung, immediately rushed outside and to his dismay, he only saw you and a broken table with cookies scattered everywhere. the mysterious boy just took off, what an asshole.

“y/n, clean this up, now” doyoung orders, as you nod. you hoped that boy never came anywhere near the cafe ever again, or you might as well just lose it entirely.

“and then, he grabbed the cookies and took off! if i ever see him again i want to give him a piece of my mind” you rant as your friend lia listens carefully. you were both eating lunch at a random restaurant she had heard about.

“he sounds like a dick” lia shakes her head in disappointment as you both chew on your fries.

“i know right! and now doyoung thinks i’m incapable of being assistant manager” you grunt, frustrated at the events of the day prior.

“don’t be so negative! you are a loyal employee and you are good at your job. you’ll get promoted soon, i’m sure of it” lia gives your an assuring smile, as you nod along with her. you were glad to have her by your side whenever you would rant like this, it helped you not completely lose it.

“hey! cookie girl!” you heard a sudden voice echo through the restaurant. both you and lia turned to the voice calling you, only to be met with the boy from yesterday.

“you’ve got to be kidding me” you groaned, putting on a small, fake smile to greet to boy.

“fancy seeing you here, stalking me now right?” he chuckled to himself, approaching your table. lia looked over at you with a ‘what the hell?’ expression, you just widened your eyes, unsure of how to respond to either of them.

“whatever helps you sleep at night” you respond, as jaemin just smirks.

“sorry about the cookies by the way. don’t get offended but, they weren’t that good to begin with” he slyly poked at you. you wanted to give him a good lecture about how hard you worked on those damn cookies but you noticed how lia was getting concerned about your next moves. you took a deep breath before giving the boy another blunt answer,

“you’re entitled to your own wrong opinion. now may you please leave me and my friend alone?” you just shot another fake smile, as jaemin couldn’t take his eyes off you. you started feeling repulsed by just his gaze, why did he have to stare for such long periods of time?

“sure thing, see you around” he winks before heading out of the restaurant.

“who the hell was that? is he the cookie thief?!” lia’s mouth was agape as you nodded.

“he was indeed. i just want to wipe that grin off his face!” you cross your arms in frustration. lia just rolls her eyes,

“he’s kinda cute, don’t you think?” she starts to wiggle her eyebrows as you throw a fry at her.

“you have a boyfriend!” you begin to tease as she starts blushing,

“jeno doesn’t need to know” she jokes as you both begin laughing.

(a/n: yes the jeno here is from the bubble tea girl au hehe)

you were happy that lia had a boyfriend, but it often made you feel distant from her. you felt like you couldn’t ask her to hang out as much, incase she had plans with jeno. you knew that she would have dropped everything to hang out with you, but you still felt guilty if she ditched jeno like that. you wished that you had a boyfriend of your own, so you could hang out all together without the awkward third wheel vibe. but that was a long shot for you, or so you thought.

it had been a solid two weeks since that interaction with jaemin, in which you still didn't know his name yet. after constant hassling, doyoung promoted you to assistant manager.

"we have a new employee coming in today, i need you to train him" doyoung orders as you nod in agreement.

"never fear! i'll teach him everything in my barista 101 guide!" you smile, pulling out a pastel green notebook with random coloured tabs sticking out of it.

"i didn't ask, but you do you" doyoung shrugs, patting your shoulder before heading to the back room. doyoung always picked on you, but you were sure, you were his favourite employee.

you were fixing up any last notes in your guide, when you heard the bell above the door ring. you set everything aside, ready to take the next order. you look up, eyes meeting those of the boy you never wanted to see again.

"you" you huff out, eyes immediately glaring, face now stone cold.

"me" jaemin smiled widely, walking up to the counter, leaning his elbows on the top of it.

"fall on any more tables yet?" he chuckled to himself as you mimicked his words, turning away from him to continue writing in your book. he had some nerve teasing you like that.

"y/n, what are you doing? this is jaemin, the new employee" doyoung bursted out of the backroom, standing behind you. you instantly froze, looking over to jaemin who was now standing up straight with his arms crossed over his chest. he had bright blue hair, a blue denim jacket on, and that damn smirk of his plastered on his face. you couldn't stop glaring, slowing moving to face jaemin and doyoung.

"just train him well okay? i don't want to have to deal with any mess in here" doyoung sighed, walking away from the both of you. jaemin had his eyes fixed on you.

"you know just cause you're cute and all, doesn't mean this job is going to be easy" you muttered as you dig behind the counter to find jaemin a spare apron.

"oh so you think i'm cute?" you could hear the flirtatious tone leaving his mouth. you shot up from behind the counter and threw the apron forcefully at his face. to your displeasure, he ended up catching it before it could hit him. jaemin tied the apron on himself, meeting you behind the counter.

"let's get started shall we. i have written pretty much everything you need to learn in this book right here! it's a beginner's guide, with all my best tips and tricks so i-" you were interrupted by jaemin fiddling with the coffee machine, not paying attention to a single word that left your mouth. you groaned in annoyance, watching as he handed you the cup of coffee he had just made.

"try it" he urged you, observing your every move. you cautiously look at him and then at the cup in your hands. you didn't want to admit it, but it looked and smelled pretty good. you slowly took a sip of the warm drink, eyes avoiding those of jaemin. you hated to compliment him, but the boy had some skills. you felt jaemin's eyes on you, ready for your verdict.

"it's alright i guess" you sigh, trying to play off how impressed you were. jaemin just chuckled, knowing he was already doing a good job.

"i don't need that little book of yours, i think i'm just about perfect" you rolled your eyes at the taller boy, giving him a small slap on the shoulder.

"get to work buddy, tables need some wiping and coffees need to be made" you made your way to the cash register, beginning to take orders as customers entered the shop. jaemin couldn't help but shake his head at your bossy persona. he found it entertaining, but also quite enticing. he couldn't wait to work with you more.

weeks had passed since jaemin started working at the coffee shop. he never asked for any of your help, making you quite frustrated that he wouldn't even listen to a single piece of advice you had. it's as if your authority as assistant manager and his trainer, was thrown out the window. you were getting ready to start your shift, noticing jaemin drawing something on the front window with some paint pens.

"what the hell are you doing? doyoung hates it when we mess with the window art!" you nag at the blue haired boy. jaemin just rolls his eyes, turning back at you,

"can you like stop nagging me for one minute?" he responds, continuing to draw on the window. you let out a small huff, and as if on cue, doyoung approaches both of you.

"ooo you're in troubleee" you slyly mutter, waiting for the scene to unfold. jaemin turns to face doyoung, who at first didn't say a word.

"jaemin, i didn't give you permission to do this" doyoung started, you felt yourself perk up at the possibility of jaemin getting scolded.

"but i was kind of wanting a new design anyway, your doodles are quite nice actually. keep it up" doyoung smiles, looking over at your pissed off expression. he just pats your shoulder before heading off to do business of his own.

"you can't bust me, sweetie. i'm just that good" jaemin walks closer to you, backing your up against the counter.

"you are so infuriating" you grunt through your teeth, eyes meeting jaemin’s. he had a slight kindness in his eyes. as if he was pleading for you to not to be so mad at him. jaemin chuckled softly,

"you're gonna just have to deal with it then" he leaves you stunned as he walked behind the counter, starting to take orders.

was he always this handsome?

you shook your head from your thoughts, na jaemin was utterly unbearable to be around, so why couldn't you stop thinking about him?

"you know what he did the other day?" you begin another rant, this time lia and jeno were your audience.

"what did he do?" lia played along, looking over at jeno who was invested in your story.

"so, you know suzy? the dreaded middle aged woman who always complains about her coffee having too much sugar? yeah well, jaemin served her the other day and she complimented him! right infront of me!" you started to pout. lia started giggling causing jeno to start giggling as well.

"what's so funny?" you furrow your eyebrows at the couple.

"doesn't sound like you hate him all that much to me" jeno smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you. you just give him a scowl in return.

"no you see jeno, y/n hides her feelings for jaemin through all this teasing, and so does he. it’s adorable" lia commented, causing you to know scowl at her.

"you guys are being ridiculous! he is so infuriating, no one can be that perfect at making coffees? especially a beginner anyway" you continue being stubborn as your friends just roll their eyes, already convinced you were in complete and utter denial.

you went home that day, thinking back to the times you felt yourself stare a bit too long at jaemin. he was so charismatic, he could practically charm any person who entered the shop. he had doyoung, the most stone cold person you had met, wrapped around his finger. he was the perfect barista, and could even do coffee art. you envied how good he was, considering it took you months to perfect your own skills. you knew that hating jaemin wasn't the way to handle this whole situation, but it was much easier than having him know that you sort of liked him.

you were writing down stuff in your weekly planner, it helped you stay organised with your daily tasks so you knew you wouldn’t forget anything. well, except your pastel green notebook. you swore you had left it at work, but for the past week you hadn’t been able to find it. you were slowly starting to accept that you lost it, and all your hard work over the past 6 months was for nothing. you let a soft groan, finishing up your final sentence, as you heard the boy next to you clear his throat.

“may i help you?” you move your head to face him, not realising he was already inches close to you. you immediately froze, unsure of what to do next.

“you’re slacking off, i can’t make all these coffees on my own” jaemin smirked, like he had many times before but this time, you couldn’t help but admire how handsome he was up close.

“i- well uh, yeah sorry” you stuttered, pulling away from the boy. jaemin just sighed, he didn’t understand why it was so hard to talk to you. he wanted to get close to you, possibly even ask you out, but your repeated attempts to ignore him during your shifts together had deflated his confidence. you caught yourself glancing over at him multiple times during work, watching how he interacted so kindly with customers and somehow always kept his composure when being lectured by doyoung.

you were about to close up, making sure to double check that the bathrooms were clean. as you made your way back to the counter, you caught jaemin in the act. he was reading from your notebook. the one you thought you had lost. he didn’t see you approaching, making it an even better bust.

“AHA! i knew it! you read my book” you exclaimed, catching the boy off guard, causing him to fall into his butt. you couldn’t help but laugh at his exaggerated reaction, before helping him from behind the counter.

“it’s not what it looks like” he just sighs, knowing he had already been caught.

“oh really? cause it looks like you were reading my book, and have possibly been following every single piece of advice in it” you continued to tease, a bright smile plastered on your face. jaemin couldn’t help but crack a smile back at you, nodding in defeat.

“yes okay, i read your book. it helped a lot! is that what you wanna hear?” jaemin could feel the redness flush his cheeks and the tops of his ears. you couldn’t help but gush over how hilarious the situation was.

“and here i was, thinking you were a barista prodigy! well na jaemin, you just got schooled!” you started getting up in his face, watching as the taller boy just shook his head at your incredibly quirky antics. he found you adorable, not that he would admit it anytime soon.

from that day onwards, you and jaemin bickered less. of course you’d still poke fun at him now and then for initially taking your book, but it was all fun and games.

“y/n look!” you heard him call, as you were both closing up that night. jaemin had smeared on a foam moustache on his face, attempting to make you laugh. you just threw a dirty towel at him, rolling your eyes at us childish antics.

“god you’re such a loser” you smile softly, removing your apron. jaemin wipes off the foam, placing the towel away, before removing his own apron.

“you know, i think that all this teasing from you, is really a way for you to hide how much you like me” his words made you freeze. you didn’t want to face him. you weren’t sure if he was kidding or not, so you opted to just crack another witty comment, to avoid any more awkwardness.

“in your dreams, i do it because you’re just easy to make fun of. it’s what friends do” you shrug, looking over at the blue haired boy. you were expecting atleast a small smile to come from jaemin, but instead, he had an unreadable expression. he approached you slowly, causing you to shuffle backwards, your back now pressing against one of the cupboards behind the counter. jaemin places his right hand next to your head, leaning closer to you. you felt your breath hitch as he stared into your eyes. jaemin didn’t want to keep beating around the bush, he needed to know how you felt, and soon.

“ so you’re telling me, we are just friends?” he mumbles, quiet enough for only you to hear. you could practically feel him begging for you to deny it, but your heart wasn’t sure if you were completely in it. of course you found jaemin attractive, who wouldn’t? but to be in a relationship or even start something more than a friendship, with anyone was a huge step for you. you had never had a boyfriend before, and watching your friends experience immense heartbreaks in the past, made you unsure of your own experiences.

“y-yeah jaemin, we’re just friends” you whisper, watching as jaemin’s face softens. you didn’t know if he was upset, hurt, or both. but you knew something was off. jaemin just nodded, packing up his things.

“have a nice night, y/n” jaemin gave you a small wave before exiting the coffee shop. you felt your heart tighten, what the hell was he doing to you?

“y/n, i’m your best friend and all, but you’re an idiot. jaemin clearly likes you and you have just ruined your chances!” lia sighs, comforting you the next day. you just nod, knowing everything she said was true.

“i know i messed up. i just don’t want to get his hopes up if i’m a shit girlfriend or something” you worry, unsure whether you could really show jaemin the appreciation as love he deserved.

“stop being so afraid! don’t stay sheltered! if you like him, you should tell him. you deserve to be in a happy relationship, never doubt that” lia pulls you in for a long hug and you begin t think about what you wanted to say to jaemin, the next time you saw him. you knew she was right. if you didn’t confess soon, it would eat at you inside about what could have been. it was time to take a chance.

at your next shift at the coffee shop, jaemin came in late. he apologised to doyoung who didn’t mind, as today was fairly slow. he would usually shoot a witty comment at you before he started making drinks, but today he just gave you a small smile without a single word. your heart clenched at how he was acting. but you knew exactly why he was doing it. you wanted to wait until closing time, to properly talk with jaemin. but you couldn’t help but notice how down he looked whilst he was serving customers. it really must have affected him a lot. you tried to talk to him during your shift, standing next to him as he was making a drink.

“h-hey, how are you?” you tried to start, watching as jaemin halts his movements. he turned his head to face you, the expression was unreadable. jaemin knew he was being petty for giving you the cold shoulder. it wasn’t like he could have forced you to like him back, especially since he hadn’t properly right out confessed to you.

“i-i’m alright, and you?” he tried to act as normal and nonchalant as possible.

“i’m okay i guess” you mumble, unsure of how to continue. you were thankful that jaemin had to serve more customers, cutting your conversation short.

you waited for the clock to strike 9:30pm, as it was time to start closing up. doyoung tossed you the keys before he finished his shift earlier that day, leaving both you and jaemin to pack up together. jaemin had finished cleaning the bathrooms and all the tables as you worked on the countertops and back area. you made eye contact with him from across the room. he looked so solemn, as if he would rather be anywhere else but here with you. you sighed to yourself, knowing what was on his mind. you approached the blue haired boy slowly. he watched your every move, his heart beat increasing with every step you took.

“i lied” you blurt out as his eyes furrowed, confused at your words.

“when you asked me if i thought we were just friends. i lied. i don’t think of you as just a friend, jaemin. i-i think of you as something more” you avoid his eyes, watching as he sets down the dirty towels onto the nearest table. he pulls your chin up with his fingers, making sure you were looking at him directly.

“why didn’t you just say so?” he had that cocky smirk on again, which would have drove you nuts before, but now you found really attractive.

“i was in denial, okay? i didn’t know if you really liked me back or not and i guess i was just scared about what to do next” you admitted, as jaemin’s lips formed a small pout.

“you drive me crazy” jaemin smiled, cupping the side of your face with his left hand, softly caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“well so do you” you mumbled while blushing.

“just so you can hear me say it, i like you too. kinda have been trying to drop hints. you’re completely oblivious” he playfully teased, causing you to give him a small shove. you couldn’t help but smile at him as he pulled your face closer to his with both his hands on your cheeks. you move your hands to wrap around his neck, watching as his smile widened.

“bold move there” he muttered, lips brushing briefly over yours.

“can you just kiss me already?” you whine, which made jaemin’s heart burst. he nodded eagerly before connecting your lips with his. he moved one hand to grab your waist and the other was left caressing your cheek. you couldn’t believe you were kissing the same guy who stole your cookies months ago.

jaemin suddenly pulls away, mumbling,

“i knew you’d fall for me, i mean i am a catch”

“you really know how to ruin a moment don’t you?” you pull away from his completely, letting his take his hand in yours.

“yeah but we have a lot of time to have more moments, won’t we?” jaemin pulls you to his side,

“we sure will” you smile up at him, leaning in for another kiss when you were interrupted by a familiar voice,

“i freaking knew it! you two better not do this lovey dovey stuff during your shift otherwise i’m firing one of you” doyoung warmed as you both burst into laughter.

you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into with jaemin. but that was the thrill of it all. he was constantly surprising you with new things about himself. you completely adored him, as he did with you. you realised it was okay to let yourself be vulnerable, you never know what you could get out of it.

a/n: ahhh i loved writing this one! let me know if there were any mistakes! x

#na jaemin #nct dream imagines #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct fic #na jaemin imagine #jaemin imagine #nct dream fic #nct jaemin #nct writing #jisungsmochiimagines #jisungsmochi masterlist

120 notes · View notes

carnalhaus · 4 years

Note

BOTH

you guys are not ready 4 this

srry if i’m bad at explaining stuff lol, if u need a more visual explaination then lmk.

so as we know, i almost always do portraits or people in general !!! backgrounds not good, that’s why most of them are just bright colors. for actual backgrounds i usually paint over a reference image bc i have a very hard time with eyeballing certain colors and getting dimensions right. i also like adding words in my art a lot, i have pages of notes in my phone compiled of lyrics and words i’ve heard. idk why, but i feel like the words i choose help solidify the meaning and feel of the piece (some pieces have specific meanings to the words i chose if ur curious :)) ).

i like working with colors in my artwork a lot, the main focus of my art is usually the colors and the whole chromatic appeal. i like complementary colors, but i also just like using two colors that harmonize with each other. i usually only have two main colors that i use to set the mood and vibe, like the character will be colored as normal, but then the shading will be a certain color, and the highlights another color, and the background is usually one of those colors. then i’ll play with tone curves and overlays to make sure the character and the background have the same environment. my secret to overlays usually goes like this:

the character is shaded and highlighted right ? the shading is color 1, the highlight is color 2.

i take color 1 and color over the character, setting it to multiply and adjusting the opacity so it’s not too dark.

i take color 2 and color over the character, setting it to luminosity and adjusting the opacity so it’s not too washed out.

adjust the hue and stuff, usually to make it more saturated or a lil darker. you’ll notice that the characters are usually darker than the bright background.

in the end, i like playing with tone curve and the hue again, usually to make it more saturated or to give the overall piece a more colorful but less intense hue.

you can see the difference between a more fleshed out piece and the doodle version of it below !! the first was the original, but i took off all the overlays and took away the colored background to make a more flat piece for a ref sheet. the process can go a few different ways depending on what i’m working on but that’s usually how it works :)).

and ummmm now we’re onto general drawing stuff right ????? this part has always been hard for me.

i’ve been drawing literally as long as i can remember. i remember watching anime (specifically chobits) at a young age, and being fascinated by how pretty the girls were, and how their bodies looked. ik that sounds weird lol, but i’ve just always been fascinated by how bodies looked, and the layers underneath that makes it look the way it does. so, i started drawing girls. always trying to get the proportions right, looking at where things went, how limbs interacted with the environment. i noticed things that i’d never see in anime, like how people’s thighs squished when they sat down, how weight was distributed differently depending on how someone was standing, how limbs aren’t perfectly straight and bend and squish depending on the muscles/bones underneath and what they were pressing against. i was always interested in that. so, i started looking at real life, taking that very basic anime knowledge and incorporating real life into it. i think thats the reason some people recognize my art by how i draw bodies, i always make the limbs flow and bend.

SO my advice ???? DO LIFE STUDIES !!!! LIFE STUDIES !!!!!!!! JSJDKKSNDKDJBSNX !!!! i used to use this site called quickposes a LOT for random pose practice. ALSO use references PLEASE use references they’re so good for everything.

i feel like i should also say that huge inspirations to my art have been plastiboo, bubblebaath, octoplum, trevor henderson, pibmo, cursehole, liizoni, peomichie, and filthyguts :)).

#asks #mine #do with this what u will #IF I MISSED SOMETHING THEN UHHH TELL ME #yes the words in my art usually mean something have u ever caught onto that 😼

16 notes · View notes

skaldish · 4 years

Note

Not related to Loki... but I just wanted to say that I love your drawings? Do you have any tips for how to get better at drawing?

I do! I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned this here, but I was an art teacher for almost a decade and had fine arts training at a certified atelier (not that you see much of that coming out in my doodles, lol). But I can definitely give you the laundry list of things I used to tell my students:

1. Use constructive anatomy. The “big shapes” give structure to your details.

Every drawing of a superhero you see begins with a stick figure. Every drawing of a spaceship begins with squares, lines, and circles. Every skilled drawing ever starts with lightly-drawn “big shapes” to provide a framework for details. Getting good at understanding this framework is the key to a successful drawing. Just like with houses, we start by building the frame before applying the paint.

When I was a teenager I actually refused to do this process because it was hard and looked ugly. But this stubbornness set my art back because I plateaued. To overcome it, I had to unlearn and relearn how to draw. Only just now have my figures become dynamic, and I still have problems drawing stiff pelvises sometimes. My biggest tip to you? Don’t be like me. Listen to the advice of experts.

Here’s a book I highly recommend to help you with this concept and creating action in your work:

2. Learn the rules so you can break the rules

The key to drawing a really good figure lies in understanding how figures work in real life. Many manga-ka are great at drawing manga not because that’s the only thing they’ve ever drawn, but because they’ve practiced real-world anatomy to the point they can now break the rules of anatomy to achieve desired results. My all-time favorite example of this is One Punch Man.

Breaking the rules without learning them first, however, can end up trapping your art in its own limitations, which is really hard to unlearn. A good example of an artist who’s done this is the comic artist Rob Liefeld. Despite the fact he can draw really detailed figures, all of them are very out-of-proportion because he never learned the basics of anatomy. (He understands this shortcoming though, and we forgive him for it because he created Deadpool).

The best way to learn the rules is to draw from real life, and if you can’t do that, draw from photos. I always recommend classes but I understand that’s not always accessible for everyone. Practicing drawing what you see can be a chore for some artists, but you’ll thank yourself later for it. I once heard a story of an oil painter who became the master at painting clouds because it’s all he ever looked at and painted for an entire year, so life drawing is definitely worth something.

3. Use References

I promise you, it’s not cheating. References are beautiful, beautiful things that fill in the blanks of your knowledge. Can’t figure out how a hand should be positioned in your drawing? Take a photo of your own hand and use it as a model. How the heck do abs work again? Look it up online. Need to draw a person sitting in a chair and don’t know how? Find a stock photo or other reference and use the pose. Professionals do this all the time regardless of their skills. Nothing is created in a vacuum so give yourself plenty of references to work from when you need them.

4. Don’t worry about developing a “style”

This is something a lot of my students were very concerned about, and I told them this: You WILL develop a style, whether you intend to or not. Style comes naturally out of learning how to draw and improving your skills, and while you can consciously influence your own style, it’s going to happen one way or another. Unless your art style is going in a direction you’re not happy with, it’s not something you need to worry about.

5. PRACTICE

The secret to getting good at art is practice. I can’t tell you how many times I saw students without any artistic abilities surpass students with “natural knacks” just because they practiced well. No matter what your current skill level is, practice is the only thing that develops talent.

I used to tell my students this: “Draw bad feet. Draw bad hands. That’s your assignment--Draw them and make them bad.” And when they did, I said, “Great! Now you’ve drawn hands and feet.” Sometimes all you really need to do is give yourself permission to get stuff on the paper. You can learn from a bad drawing but you can’t learn from a blank piece of paper.

You don’t need to go into every drawing expecting it to be a finished piece. I go through 90 half-finished drawings and doodles to get to my 10 best pieces of art, and maybe 1 of those 10 works is my coveted “S-Tier” work: the best of my skills. But that one picture was built on what I learned from those 99 other ones, and those 99 drawings make it worth it every time. Nothing is wasted.

The quality of your practice matters too, though. I got wildly better after my atelier training, but you don’t need to take fancy classes to improve your art. If you follow these steps and do some very active practicing from time to time, you’ll see improvement.

(As a final note, make sure you’re practicing on paper. Drawing tablets and programs are great for their purposes, but you want to make sure your skills aren’t hinged upon their extra capabilities.)

Hope this helps!

#answered #art #art tips #art 101 #Anonymous

41 notes · View notes

hi-host · 4 years

Text

Anwser : I’m sorry for took some time with reply , but i really want to put effort to help anyone who read this..Ah is so sweet to heard that .Looking by my video tutorials ,it helps you to improve your art skills??I’m shocked that someone did watch it. Yes my style did change for a better i think. I will give some tips because i was thinking to do something like this for others but for myself.

I’m sorry for long ass post.

THIS IS MY PERSONAL EXPERIENCE

so you don’t have to take all as “a must ”.Also probably you may heard some of those but still it always good to remind them . This is what help me and ,I hope it will help you :

---------

1) DON’T SMOKE/DRINK - [This is first personal thing ] there is some stupid stereotype that smoking ,helps you calm down! BIG FAT LIE. To all artist who smoke , please quit !!! It didn’t help. You will be unfocused ,sleepy ,dizzy and sloppy at your work. You wouldn’t be able work because your mind will be keep thinking about smoking not drawing.Your work will improve a lot while you quit any of this.

2) DATE YOUR WORK [Year-month-day] it does helps me to organised things. Also you will know how long it took you with one drawing, how often you draw. In 2016 i got 60 drawings .This year i count 220 !!

3) NEVER DELETE YOUR WORK [even if you think is SHIT ]- I remember once @onemagpie told me that. I use to delete my because of reasons.I took her advice and since then i don’t delete anything. The left art is from 2016 and 3-4 years later i redraw and improve the idea.You will never know , when you will back to your old art ,and search for ideas/inspiration !!

4) NOT EVERY YOUR ART NEED TO BE MASTERPIECE/- some of your posts gets less (or more it srly depends) notes.That doesn’t mean your art is awful, just it happens. I can’t explain why -maybe fandom/ time of posting/ the stars are not in good position. I know this kind of thing can put you down as a artist, but you cant just make you think the X notes measure you AS A GOOD ARTIST

5) TRY NEW THINGS- maybe you can try animate or, make videos/speedpains of your art. It always fun to try something new. Also it helps you know the new media.

6) YOU NEED TO PROGRESSING - i always think that this is the worst sin artist can make. Stop progressing. “Screw you this is my style and i like draw that way i wont change anything” !! Of course i never say you should change your style! !! What i mean is ..I know is good to draw, what you are comfortable with, but stuck in ONE thing - may be tiring, for you and your audience. You can always improve something. I think you as artist you will grow and people will appreciate that you did put an effort to get better and better thought the years.

REMEMBER SMALL STEPS SMALL STEPS !!

7) USE REFERENCE/WATCH TUTORIALS - I donno what numnuts say this is cheating!!! Search on google, look for reference. This is part of improving also looking how others work ,may help you a lot !! You will know some tricks and some better way to improve your skills.

8 )TRY TO DRAW EVERYDAY - sketching ideas /doodles. Don’t force yourself tho.

9) DON’T WORK ON ONE ART X MONTHS/YEARS- depend on how much detailed art is / if this is commission the process may took longer, . BUT but don’t spend ,months or years on one piece. Sometimes you need to just gave up ,and move on to other project. I use to spend on art month non stop. Sadly this makes me frustrated and really tired in process, in the end the results wasn’t that great.

10) TAKE A BREAK IF YOU NEED TO- your mental health is more important, your health is important , you are more important. Think about yourself FIRST!!

11) DON’T BE SHY TO POST YOUR ART - The begging of posting arts are always hard, and took some time to gain some audience. Don’t worry ,as soon you will post your art more and more people will notice you. Remember to properly tag !!

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

I think is everything. I’m not good at giving advice .Im sorry for my English. I’m not good at expressing some of my thoughts ,but i hope it helps.

#artists on tumblr #art tips #art #dont starve #hope it helps #long post #doodles

103 notes · View notes

randomprojectedkat · 4 years

Note

Logicality

me, remembering i have asks: huh haven’t checked those in a year

i don’t even know what this was in reference too but hey you get a fic now so i guess it worked out uwu

Ships: Logicality, implied Roceit and Dukexiety

Warnings: brief mention of Remus and Deceit, and also arson

Logan was not having a good day. Or a good week. Or even a good month. And it was all due to one person. Patton Morales. Of course, Logan knew it wasn’t logical to pin the source all of his problems for the month on one man, but Patton made him feel things and he Did Not Like It. He sighed as he lay in bed for the umpteenth time this week, phone lying next to him on the pillow. His best friend’s voice carried loudly from the phone, and Logan squeezed his eyes shut as he, once again, heard obnoxious laughter emitting from Roman.

“Roman please I am sincerely asking for help,” he groaned, pressing a hand to his temples.

“Listen pocket protector, I had to deal with your quips when I was pinning for Dee. You do not get to tell me to stop. And hey, I could always just hand the phone to Remus you know,” Roman snarked back, still giggling. There was a brief pause.

“…Fine. But only because I’m desperate. And I do not want to deal with Remus at the moment.”

“Aww Specs. You love us. Besides if Remus could get with Virgil then maybe he could give good relationship advice. Who knows?”

“Roman. He sent him a glitter bomb. There was glitter in his house for weeks. I wouldn’t be surprised if his carpet still had glitter from that horrible ordeal,” Logan said, exasperated. He shuttered at the thought of cleaning it up.

“I gotta say though, the glitter bomb was a pretty good idea actually,” Roman mused. Logan could practically hear the cogs in his head attempting to turn.

“That better be going somewhere good, Roman. I do not have time to waste. I’m meeting him in half an hour,” he sighed.

“Time is merely a construct Nerdy Wolverine. Besides, I don’t mean the glitter bomb was a good idea, I mean the large, romantic and attention grabbing confession! Think about it. If you impress Patton, he’ll definitely say yes.”

“You sound awfully confident about yourself,” Logan said, thinking about how overly confident Roman sounded. He frowned, pondering Roman’s proposal.

“And Logan I have the best way for you to do it. Give a dramatic speech! A sincere profession of your undying love and passion for him. You like poetry and lectures, so boom. Speech.”

“Are you sure Roman? This has to be perfect. Patton is perfect and he deserves nothing less than perfection.”

“See? Just say things like that and you’ll be fine. Hey, I gotta run ‘cause the door just opened and I can hear my brother talking about getting away with arson so I’m gonna either stop him or join him. I’m not to sure yet. But anyway, you’re gonna do perfect. You better do perfect. If I have to hear abour freckle stars one more time I’ll cry, you hear? Call me after with the deets. Ok? Bye Logan,” Roman said, before ending the call. Logan took a deep breath and stayed still, thinking over what Roman said. He glanced at the clock.

“I have 20 minutes…” he said out loud, sitting up. He nodded to himself, grabbing a pen and a piece of paper off his desk. “I can work with that.” He got to work.

25 minutes later, Logan was standing in the park, speech in hand and nerves skyrocketing. He tapped the side of his thigh, trying to calm himself down. He looked up to the sky and chewed his bottom lip worriedly.

“Hey Logan! Sorry I’m late. Mr. Jenkins let us out of class late again,” a new arrival, Patton, called out. Logan’s head snapped forward.

“Oh Patton. Don’t worry about it. I didn’t even notice,” He said. He had noticed. He was 5 minutes and 34 seconds late. Not that Logan was counting.

“You wanted to talk to me ‘bout something?” Patton asked, head tilting sideways. “Is it about the project we’re doing for science? Oh I hope it’s not anything bad Lo-Lo. Is everything ok?” He asked, coming closer.

Logan lost the ability to speak. He managed a small nod.

“Hey you’re kinda red, are you sure everything’s ok?” Patton cupped Logan’s face in his hands, and frowned. “You’re super warm,” he noted, before gasping, “Are you sick? Logan you could have just called me!” Patton cried out, hands coming off of Logan’s face to instead wave around in panic.

“Not to worry Patton,” Logan squeaked out, trying to reboot his brain. “It’s, um, well it’s not school related so you don’t have to worry about grades.”

“Grades? I don’t care about that. I care about you,” Patton said, big, brown, worried eyes turning to look at him. Logan looked away. “Lo-Lo? Did-did I do something wrong?” Patton inquired, looking sad. “I’m sorry if I did. I promise I didn’t mean too.”

“Patton, trust me you can do no wrong,” Logan sighed, only slightly dreamily.

“What?” Patton asked, frowning. “Then…what is it?”

Logan took a deep breath and unfolded the piece of paper he was holding. He got this. He practiced in the mirror for 10 minutes before racing out. He got this down pat, no pun intended.

“Logan?” Patton took a step forward.

“Patton-,” He started, voice cracking. He winced and cleared his throat. “Pat, for the past month we’ve worked I’ve began to notice things about you.” He began again. Patton quieted down and came closer. “When you see something you love, your eyes light up like they hold suns of their own. You doodle on your hands and legs when you’re bored. When you listen to music, you always tap along to the beat. Small things like that. I’ve noticed things about me as well during this time period. Your laugh makes me feel as though summer came and wrapped me in a warm embrace, complete with the butterflies. I can see the stars in your freckles. The big dipper is on your right cheek. You’re puns make me laugh ridiculously hard, and I don’t even like puns,” Logan stopped to take a breath. “You make me feel so many things. And after enough time pondering I think I know why. Patton Morales, I am in love with you.” Logan stated, looking up at Patton for the first time since began his small speech. Patton was looking at him like Logan was his whole world.

“Logan…” Patton said, in awe.

Logan gave an awkward smile before looking away, starting to contemplate everything he did wrong. “I’m sorry if I made everything weird but I had to get it off my chest and-”

“Logan,” Patton said, eyes filled with admiration, “Can I kiss you?”

“What.” Logan said, brain shorting out like a laptop dropped in water.

“Can I please kiss you?” Patton asked again, coming even closer to Logan.

Logan could barely nodded before Patton’s lips where crashing into his. He make a squeak of surprise. Patton pulled him closed and Logan closed his eyes, savoring what was now the best moment of his life. After a few moments, Patton broke the kiss.

“I have wanted to do that since the day I met you,” the brunette said, beaming. Logan smiled.

“Me too,” he whispered, before pulling Patton in for another kiss. He reveled in this moment, reminding himself to thank Roman for his advice. But he’d do that later. He had more important things to consider at the moment.

(When Roman was told later, his exclamation of gratitude at not being the subject of Logan’s pinning anymore could be heard on Mars)

#logicality #sanders sides #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #deceit sanders #roceit #remus sanders #sympathetic remus sanders #sympathetic deceit #fanfiction #ask #virgil sanders #dukexiety #pinning #combinethekitchens #mom

14 notes · View notes

snarkybluechristian · 4 years

Text

Hazbin Hotel: Yandere Alastor x Vaggie Chapter 21

Version:1.0 StartHTML:000000203 EndHTML:002787563 StartFragment:002760405 EndFragment:002787531 StartSelection:002760405 EndSelection:002787527 SourceURL:https://www.fanfiction.net/docs/docs.php

Vaggie waited until the couple had walked away before she rushed into the bathroom to check on Angel.

“Angel?” Vaggie asked fearfully. “Angel, are you alright?”

Vaggie heard Angel get up from his bed, use his crutches to hobble himself into the bathroom, and sit down against the wall.

“I’m better now,” Angel said between ragged breaths from the other side of the wall. “I can sit on my ass again, so at least, that’s something.”

Vaggie sighed sadly and said, “Angel, I’m so sorry…”

“It’s fine, baby girl,” Angel interrupted reassuringly. “It’s not your fault. Besides, I’m used to the pain. You know that.”

Vaggie smiled sadly. She knew Angel was staying strong for her. He had much more inner strength than she ever realized…

“Angel?” Vaggie asked nervously. “What did Rosie do to make you scream?”

“If you must know, that slut grinded herself against my crotch,” Angel said audibly shuddering. “It made me feel agonizing pain.”

“That bitch,” Vaggie snarled angrily. “I hate her so much. She spent the better part of the day literally lecturing me about etiquette and how I needed to follow all these 100-year-old rules to be Alastor’s perfect trophy wife.”

“Oh, God,” Angel replied. “That sounds awful. How did you take it?”

Vaggie scoffed and said, “Not very well. I know. Big surprise, right? I’ve been pushing Rosie’s patience all day. She and Alastor punished you in the most painful way imaginable just because I said something about Alastor she didn’t like when we went shopping for dresses. I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help it. She insulted Charlie.”

“I don’t blame ya,” Angel replied.

“Before that, Rosie made sit through a boring lunch and the same boring lecture twice in a row…” Vaggie ranted.

“Wait, twice in a row?” Angel asked confusedly.

“I drew an offensive doodle of Rosie instead of listening to her lecture the first time through,” Vaggie admitted. “That’s probably why they made sure to make sure to make your punishment more painful…”

To Vaggie’s surprise, Angel started laughing. He laughed for a good minute eventually pushing Vaggie to begin giggling herself.

“Oh, my God!” Angel said finally taking a breath. “That’s hilarious, doll. I can just imagine that look on that bitch’s face. Tell me. Was she pissed?”

“Absolutely livid,” Vaggie said.

“Oh, man,” Angel said. “I wish I could see it for myself.”

Vaggie’s eye then noticed the old-fashioned vent on the ground. She got on her knees to look at it, and as she examined it, she got an idea.

Vaggie picked up the vent grating, set it aside, and looked into the shaft. It looked like it also connected to Angel's room, so out of curiosity, she reached her arm down and to the right as far as she could.

“Vaggie, what are you doing?” Angel asked.

“Angel, look into the shaft of your vent,” Vaggie said. “Do you see my hand?”

Angel looked down into the vent shaft and saw Vaggie’s waving hand.

“Yeah, I see it,” Angel replied. “What are you doing?”

Vaggie smiled and said, “Wait a second.”

She stood up, ran back to her room, grabbed the notebook off the dresser, and headed back into the bathroom.

Vaggie then tore her drawing of Rosie out of her notebook, wadded it into a ball, and stuck it into the vent making sure to roll the wadded-up ball as close to Angel as possible.

“Angel, I sent you something,” Vaggie said. “Check it out.”

Angel opened the vent on his side, leaned over with his one good arm, picked up the crumpled paper ball, unfolded it, and started laughing hysterically.

Vaggie chuckled with him and asked, “You like it?”

“Vags,” Angel said. “This is absolute gold!”

“Well, I had to do something to stay awake,” Vaggie said laying back against the wall. “That lecture was so goddamn boring! You should have heard the nonsense she was spouting then and while she made me try on all those old clothes at the store.”

“Did you take any real notes, babe?” Angel asked.

“Yeah, do you wanna hear Rosie’s bullshit etiquette advice?” Vaggie asked with a smile in her voice.

“Fuck yeah,” Angel said. “It ain’t like we have anything better to do.”

Vaggie picked up her notebook, turned the page to her notes, and read out loud in as posh a tone as she could muster, “Shoulders back, feet flat on the ground, back straight…”

“It sounds like she said that a lot,” Angel interrupted.

“You have no idea,” Vaggie said making her aggravation clear through her voice.

“Oh, do tell me more,” Angel teased.

“Maintain your beauty and your personal appearance to your husband’s taste,” Vaggie read. “As a wife, you owe it to your husband to remain pleasing to him to retain his respect and his love.”

“Jesus Christ,” Angel muttered with a chuckle. “Are you his wife or his employee?”

“That’s what I said,” Vaggie retorted.

“Keep going,” Angel goaded.

“A lady doesn’t eat like an animal,” Vaggie continued reading. “She uses her cutlery and her manners.”

“Fair point,” Angel replied. “Fair point, but you don't eat like an animal anyway. Why the hell does she need to teach you that?”

“I don’t know,” Vaggie said in frustration. “She yelled at me for not properly introducing myself as Alastor's fiancée. “God! You should have heard her lecture me on modesty!”

Angel scoffed and said, “You? Modest? Was she serious?”

“She was dead fucking serious,” Vaggie replied with a groan before she read from her notebook again. “‘Ladies do not use profanity. It is unbecoming. Do not raise your voice unless you're spoken to and given permission by your husband. Do not make your feelings known. It is a mark of good breeding to suppress undue emotion, whether of disappointment, of mortification, or laughter, of anger, or of selfishness in any form. Do not make any vulgar comments. Don't laugh too loud...’ Oh, my God!”

“That shoulda killed ya,” Angel said.

“It almost did,” Vaggie replied. “I had to stay calm or Alastor would have made me watch his familiars hurt you again. No, the shopping is what killed me. She only let me pick out these old ass dresses from the ‘30s…No offense.”

Angel cackled and said, “None taken.”

“I wanted another dress, but she ripped it away from me because of Alastor’s dress code,” Vaggie continued sadly. “God, I couldn’t believe it. It’s something that seems so petty, but it was so humiliating. It was like I wasn’t even a person. It’s hard to explain...”

“It’s like you only existed to be someone else’s object? Like you didn’t have a will of your own? Like your only purpose was to please an asshole you don’t even care about?” Angel replied with unexpected sorrow behind his voice.

Vaggie fell silent.

“Believe me, babe,” Angel continued. “I know exactly how you feel. That was my whole fucking life.”

“It was?”

“Yeah, my father was the same. He had a rule for everything. I was a son of the don. I had no choice. I lied about being the firstborn son earlier, but I still had a role I had to play and hated every minute of it. I had to be fucking perfect for his goddamn mob, and he hated me when he realized I wasn’t his perfect son like Arackniss was. That I was a fag. He tried to change me. My mother kept him back until she died. God rest her soul. But then, he went into overdrive. He poured all his hatred into my big turd of a brother and made him hate me, too. The two of them did all they could to control my life. The only one I could talk to was Molly, but she was losing her mind. I was too until that night I overdosed. I tried to do all he asked, but not a fucking thing I did was ever good enough for him.”

“Oh, my God. Angel, I had no idea.”

“I don’t exactly like to talk about it. Why do you think I’m strung up most of the time? It’s funny. I’ve stayed away from both their asses for the past 73 years only for me to become the property of another no-good motherfucker…”

“Valentino?”

Angel paused with a sad smile and said, “You really do know everything.”

“You are the most popular porn star in all of Hell,” Vaggie said.

“More like the most popular prostitute and slave to the most powerful pimp,” Angel said with a scoff. “God, you think I would have figured it out after the first time. I’ve fucked up enough for both lifetimes. I’ll be much happier when I’m in heaven with my ma, finally on good terms with God, and have a dimension separating me and all those other fuckers.”

Vaggie remained quiet for a moment before flipping to a blank page, writing on the blank page, tearing it out, folding it up, and slipping the slip of paper to Angel through the vent.

Angel reached into the vent, picked up the piece of paper, and read: “Charlie and your mother would be so proud of you.”

Angel smiled and felt an unexpected tear come to his eye as he said, “I love you too, Vaggie.”

Just then, Vaggie heard a door open and the sound of a cart being pushed in.

“Angel?!” Vaggie asked nervously.

“There’s nothing on my end, babe,” Angel said. “It’s on yours. Just stay right here next to me.”

Vaggie sat next to the wall nervously. But just as soon as the cart rolled in, the noise stopped, and the door shut and locked again.

“It’s gone,” Vaggie said. “But I need to investigate.”

“Vaggie, I’d rather you didn’t,” Angel pleaded.

Vaggie stood up and said, “I have to get out of this bathroom eventually. Besides, I think I know what it is.”

Before Angel could protest, Vaggie exited the bathroom and saw the cart before her. It was just a simple dinner cart with a large bottle of water and a plate of food covered by a silver lid. She lifted the tray and saw a dinner plate of Southern comfort food. Fried chicken, fried okra, green beans, and macaroni and cheese.

“What?!” Angel exclaimed in surprise.

“What is it?” Vaggie asked anxiously as she picked up her tray and carried it to the bathroom.

“Another smoothie like the one Alastor drugged me with earlier just appeared out of nowhere,” Angel said. “Must be my dinner.”

“Dinner?” Vaggie said angrily. “Alastor gave me a tray of food. Why isn’t he giving you anything to eat?”

Angel scoffed and said, “Isn’t it obvious, doll? Alastor has me on a liquid diet. He’s trying to starve me to make me weaker and more compliant. I know it. Valentino has used this method of torture on me before.”

Vaggie furrowed her brow and said, “Wait a second.”

Angel complied setting his smoothie down on top of the toilet lid as he settled back in his spot.

Angel then heard the sound of another paper ball being rolled in his direction through the vent. He looked down into the vent, picked up the ball, and unwrapped the paper to find a fried chicken drumstick.

Without a second’s hesitation, Angel scarfed down the chicken until the bone was picked clean.

“Thanks, Vaggie,” Angel said.

“There’s more where that came from,” Vaggie said crumpling up more paper balls of food for Angel. “But you need to give me back the bone first.”

“Why?” Angel asked confusedly.

“So that Alastor doesn’t suspect anything because of a missing bone,” Vaggie replied.

Angel smiled, rolled the bone back into the paper, rolled it back to Vaggie in the vent, and said, “You’re quite the clever bitch. I underestimated ya.”

“Well, you don’t survive being a prostitute in the slums of El Salvador by being stupid,” Vaggie said picking up the paper ball with the bone and rolling some okra in a paper ball back to Angel.

“So, you really were a whore, huh?” Angel said picking up the paper ball and unwrapping it to find okra inside. “I’m sorry. I just can’t imagine you letting any douchebag do you for money.”

“I was a very different person six years ago. I’m not exactly proud of it,” Vaggie said preparing more paper balls for Angel. “Make sure you leave no trash. I don’t wanna imagine what Alastor and Rosie would do should they find out about any of this.”

“Gotcha,” Angel said. “Just like dumping a stash of drugs in the old days.”

Angel scarfed down his food, threw the paper in the toilet, used toilet paper to sweep up any crumbs that were left, threw that away, and flushed the toilet.

“Good work,” Vaggie said as she finished rolling the last paper ball of food. “I’m almost done rolling all the paper balls. Get ready.”

“Thanks,” Angel said. “And for the record, I was a very different person too about 73 years ago.”

After doing some quick math, Vaggie replied, “1947?”

“Yep,” Angel replied. “2014?”

“Yes,” Vaggie said opening the vent to roll all the paper balls to Angel. “Get ready, Angel. I’m sending the food over now.”

“You’re a saint, Vaggie,” Angel said. “I don’t know how to thank ya.”

“Keep recovering until we can escape,” Vaggie replied rolling the paper balls through the vent. “That’ll be thanks enough. That, and maybe, start taking your redemption work at the hotel more seriously.”

Angel scoffed as he picked up all his paper balls and said, “I tracked you down here, got captured trying to save you, and still insisted on not leaving without you even though I was given the chance to escape. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

Vaggie paused for a moment as she settled in on her side to eat her half of the food before she replied, “You know what? I think you’re right. You just might be closer to repentance than I thought.”

“Awww, what a sincere compliment,” Angel retorted facetiously. “I’m flattered.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Vaggie replied sarcastically prompting Angel to chuckle to himself before they both returned to eating her food.

The pair ate in silence until all the food was devoured and Angel had properly cleaned up his side and re-covered his vent.

When they were done, Angel asked, “Did you get enough to eat, babe?”

“Yeah,” Vaggie replied placing the last of the bones on her plate and covering the vent. “Don’t worry about it.”

Vaggie stood up, exited the bathroom, and replaced the platter on the cart. As soon as she did, the cart magically sped away. The door opened by itself to let it out, then locked itself again once the cart was gone.

Vaggie sighed as she sat on the bed to figure out what to do next. That was when she noticed the book The Taming of the Shrew sitting on the vanity. Not having anything better to do, Vaggie picked up the book and carried it to the bathroom.

“Guess what I found on my vanity?” Vaggie asked.

“The Taming of the Shrew?” Angel asked.

“Yep,” Vaggie replied unenthusiastically. “I must have held on to it when Rosie was dragging me up here.”

“That, or Alastor is being about as subtle as a bat to the face,” Angel replied with a scoff.

Vaggie snorted and replied, “No kidding. Do you want me to read it to you this time?”

“Sure, I don’t mind hearing it,” Angel replied standing up. “I can translate the bits you don’t understand. Just wait a moment for me to grab my pillow and blankets. Sitting on this floor is murder.”

“Alright,” Vaggie replied standing up and heading into her room to do the same thing.

Vaggie grabbed her blankets and pillows and set up a bed on the floor right next to the vent.

When she turned away to brush her teeth, Angel asked, “What are you doing, babe?”

“I made a bed, so I could sleep closer to you,” Vaggie said picking up her toothbrush and turning on and off the sink to make it wet before she put on the toothpaste.

“Awww, you do have a soft side,” Angel gushed.

“Shut up,” Vaggie said turning away to brush her teeth amidst Angel’s chuckles.

When Vaggie was done, she shut off the light and settled into her bed. Angel did the same in his while Vaggie began reading the play from the last place they had left off.

#alastor hazbin hotel #hazbinhotelvaggie #hazbinhotel #hazbin angel dust

6 notes · View notes

mydarlingvioletine · 5 years

Text

‘Just a Puppy Crush’ - Chapter Six

Ship(s): Violet/Clementine Media: The Walking Dead (Season 4)

Clementine’s name snapped her out of her thoughts. She looked up at Brody, who was smiling down at the journal in her hands. Violet had moved back to her original position, sitting stiffly with her eyes on the trophy case.

So, she blacked out for the entirety of Violet’s origin story. She was having a bone thrown at her to learn more about the mysteriously cool blonde to the left of her, but she dropped the ball.

Real good detective work, Clementine.

She knew bits and pieces. That her dad was a drunk and that she barely spent time with her mom because she worked a bunch of jobs. To pay for her husband’s very expensive habit. That Violet had a “someone” in her past, named Minerva. Louis brought her up once, but dropped it because Violet was visibly upset. That was the last she’d heard about her.

“‘A girl and her brother arrived here the other day. Her father got a teaching opportunity here, so they moved across the country. Mr. Everett’s cool. He’s a good teacher. His wife is really nice, too. I went in for pre-session and met her. She brought in coffee and an omelette for Mr. Everett, and told me that she had a daughter around my age. Clementine. She warned me she was a little grizzly, but had a big heart and could use a friend right now.’“

“Carley..” Clem scoffed to herself, pinching the top of her nose with a mix of frustration and adoration. “Did she pay you to talk to me too?”

Brody giggled, shaking her head and flipping the page.

“‘I met Clementine today. She’s a sweetheart. A little bit standoff-ish, but really kind. We passed notes during math class, and she doodled flowers on the bottom of my classwork.’“ Brody held out the journal, finger on a scrap of paper with a couple detailed flowers, taped to the page. “‘She’s talented, really really talented. She’s even better at realistic stuff.’“

Clementine’s smile dropped in an instant, noticeable to Violet and Louis. Brody, oblivious, kept reading, skipping a couple pages ahead.

“‘I didn’t mean to do it. I don’t have heavy footsteps, I just walk quietly on instinct.’” Brody’s eyes flickered towards Clementine, who nodded, biting down on her thumb. “’I saw her drawing in a sketchbook, and leaned over her shoulder to look at it. It was so, so realistic. It didn’t even take a full glance for me to realize who it was of. I told her it was really good, but she was embarrassed, and got mad at me for sneaking up on her. She made me promise not to te-’”

“-Um, have you guys seen Captain Marvel? Carley works at the police station and she was able to snag an illegal version of it.” Clementine interrupted loudly, quickly rising to her feet. Brody took the hint, and clasped the notebook shut, upset with herself that she’d almost broken her promise.

“No, yeah, let’s watch it.” Brody stammered, shoving her diary back into her bag so it couldn’t hurt anyone else. Louis and Violet exchanged a worried look, as Clementine rounded the corner and darted up the stairs.

She couldn’t find the movie. Carley had lost it or dropped it somewhere, and she had to go back to them empty-handed. Stalling, she took solace in James’ presence, standing beside him to help with the dishes.

They had a routine that dated back to when Clementine first got here. Clementine washed, James dried. AJ usually spot-checked, but he’d gone to sleep hours ago. They both worked in silence, both wracked with nerves and concern.

“James?” Clem broke the silence, soaping up the inside of a glass.

“You okay?” James asked, setting the bowl down to look at his younger sister, her face struck with something sad that anybody other than her family would have missed.

Clementine cleared her throat, scrubbing the frosting off of the cake-covered plate. “I’m good. I just.. good.”

James nodded, not wanting to push her past her point of comfort. He took the plate from her hands, rinsing it off as her focus set on the window, vines from the garden flowing down the side of her house like her own curly hair.

“You have no idea how good it is to see you,” Clementine breathed out, swiftly wrapping her arms around her brother, burying her face into his college sweatshirt.

James returned the hug, resting his chin on his little sister’s head. “Back atcha, kid. I really missed you.” Clementine stepped away from her brother, her eyebrows shooting up as she heard Louis singing off-key from downstairs. “I’ll be here all break, you know. C’mon, don’t miss out on your own birthday.”

Clementine pursed her lips, and let out a hearty sigh. “Hey, James?”

“What’s up, Clem?”

“You don’t have to answer. It’s kinda dumb, but... I’m just curious. Were you sure Charlie liked you when you asked him out?” Clementine whispered, resting her elbows on the kitchen counter.

A soft smile crept over James’ lips, and he softly shook his head. He turned towards her, and held out his pinky. “Promise you won’t tell Mom.”

Clementine nodded, wrapping her pinky finger around his. They shook on it, and James pressed his back against the kitchen counter, hands gripping the railing as he started recollecting.

“I didn’t know, Clem. All I knew was that I was tired of carrying it on my back and just wanted it out there. And with the help of my good friend, Mr. Alcohol, I was able to say ‘fuck it’ and just go for it.” James smirked, sternness crossing his face after a couple seconds. “Don’t take this as advice. I also took a whole bite out of a pumpkin that night.”

Clem giggled, her stress lifting into nothingness as she laughed. “You’re telling me, James Abbott, honor student, class president, star of the lacrosse team and salutatorian, drunkenly asked a guy out and took a bite of a pumpkin, all in one night. Illegally, might I add.”

James playfully shushed her, slinging his arm around the little sister he cared so much for. “Why are you asking, exactly?”

Clementine’s shoulders stiffened, and her cheeks turned pink in an instant. “No reason in particular.”

“It’s Violet, isn’t it?”

Clementine grabbed a spoon out of the sink, and pointed it threateningly towards him. “Shut your fucking mouth.”

James looked down at the adorable, rosy-cheeked kid who he’d made an internal oath to do anything for, the day he met her. The day of Lee and Carley’s wedding, she dropped her hat into the lake, and he jumped in without thinking, completely ruining his suit.

He didn’t care though; Clementine’s relief and smile as she put the sopping wet hat back on her head was reward enough.

“Honestly, Clem, it’s almost impossible to know for sure. Even if you were 100% sure your feelings were reciprocated, it’s human to be nervous and unsure. But..” He paused, pursing his lips together in thought. “You won’t know if you don’t act on your feelings. I think you’ll be okay, Clementine.”

Clem huffed as James pulled her into a side-hug, crossing her arms tightly across herself. “Thanks, weirdo.”

“No problem, weirdo.” James paused for a second, then grabbed at his backpack, strewing the contents across the kitchen table. He gave a short “aha!” before cupping his treasured picture of him and Charlie in his hand, leaning it towards Clementine so she could see. “The risk is worth it.”

With a solemn nod, Clem started back down the stairs, opening the door to the lounge room. Louis was on top of the coffee table, holding a hairbrush as if it were a microphone, screaming the lyrics to American Boy by Estelle. Clem internally thanked whatever was out there that the soundproofing was good in this room.

He wasn’t alone though. Brody was laying across the couch, holding her phone high as the music played. Her eyes landed on Violet, who took Louis’ hand and allowed herself to be twirled around the table. She was singing too, though it was almost impossible to hear over Louis.

Louis’ eyes landed on Clementine, and he stopped in his tracks. Violet didn’t get the memo though, swaying happily, a water bottle in her hand being her choice of a make-shift microphone.

“Like the way he’s speakin’, his confidence is peakin’ Don’t like his baggy jeans but I might like what’s undernea- SHIT”

Violet clasped her hands over her mouth, wide eyes on Clementine, who she’d just noticed was standing in the doorway. Brody quickly struggled to pause the music, and Louis stepped down from the coffee table.

“Uh, so you mentioned karaoke earlier but you left, and Brody has a karaoke app on her phone so we just... uh,” Violet stammered, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

Clementine rolled her eyes, grabbing the hairbrush from Louis’ hands. “You were really singing an Estelle song without me? In my house? On my birthday?”

“Uh... happy birthday?” Louis squeaked, ducking just in time to dodge a pillow Clem flung at him. She cleared her throat, and climbed onto the coffee table with Violet’s help.

“Brody, if you will,” Clem stretched her arms over her head. Brody happily hit the play button again, and Clementine jumped in right in time for the chorus.

“Take me on a trip, I’d like to go someday”

Clementine reached down for Violet’s hand, and twirled her as she sang. Taken aback, Violet’s movements were stiff and cautious. It didn’t take long before she melted into the rhythm, singing along, her voice hardly over a whisper.

“Take me to New York, I’d love to see LA”

Clementine hopped down from the table, the floor shaking beneath her impact. Her grip on Violet’s wrist, she slung her free arm across Violet’s shoulder, dropping the hairbrush to the floor.

“I really want to come kick it with you”

Violet took in a deep breath, cautiously placing her hand on Clementine’s shoulder. An encouraging smile from Clem was all she needed to calm her nerves, her volume almost matching Clementine’s.

“You’ll be my American boy”

They fit well together. Violet’s slight rasp and gravelly voice complimented Clem’s smooth, silvery tone in an intimate way. Violet’s breath tickled her nose, reminding Clementine of how close they were. Inches away from Violet’s face, she pondered how easy it would be to just press their lips together. She knew she couldn’t, though.

“La, la la, la la eya~”

Fuck it. Clem’s hands found their way to the small of Violet’s back, and she took a prominent step forward, dipping the flustered blonde as far as she could, given her prosthetic.

Brody and Louis were clapping and hollering at the performance. Clementine pulled Violet back to her feet, and dropped her hands back to her sides. With a lopsided smile, she turned towards her friends and bowed. Oblivious to the breathless Violet behind her, Clem grabbed her water bottle off the table and took a huge gulp.

Once the song petered out, Violet set foot back in reality. Eyes wide and lips parted, she let go of the breath she’d been holding in when Clementine placed her hands on her back. Holy shit.

The confidence that struck Clementine disappeared as quickly as it entered her life, leaving her stunned. The spark that hit her when she took Violet’s hand was still sizzling through her nerves, her stomach warm and full of butterflies.

She turned on her heel to say something, anything to Violet, but she had disappeared.

76 notes · View notes

lesbianoctoling · 6 years

Note

Agent 8 is crushing on Agent 3 hard and doesn't know how to confess to her. She then comes up with an idea to make use her poetry skills. But she might need some help??

A/N: I got...Really, really into this. I want to thank my lovely datefriend for helping me tho! They even wrote the poem and rewrote a few parts for me!! They have a fic on AO3 that you should totally read if you like my stuff, I’m just sayin...

Anyways, if you enjoyed this please reblog it and give it a kudos on AO3! And feedback is always appreciated! ♥

“Aww, Eight, that’s called a crush! You have a crush on Agent Three!”

“A… Crush? But I don’t want to crush her!” Agent Eight squeaked.

Pearl peaked her head into the living room where Eight was having a conversation with Marina.

“Not literally, Eight,” The inkling put a tray of drinks on the coffee table, “It means you’re in looooveee~”

Pearl’s teasing made Eight blush and turn away, despite not really knowing what she meant.

“Pearlie! Don’t tease her, she’s having a hard time…”

“W-what does crushing someone have to do with love? O-of course I love Agent Three, but I don’t…”

Marina cracked a smile and Pearl snorted.

“Oh, Eight, sweetie,” Marina put a hand on the younger girl’s shoulder, who lifted her head. “A different kind of love. You know how Pearl and I are?”

“Well uh, yeah…But ‘Ree and I are already kinda like that, so-”

Pearl took a seat next to her girlfriend, grinning wide. “Nah nah, you two are nothin’ compared to us—“ Marina elbowed Pearl’s side, “Er, I mean. Think of those cheesy movies you watch all the time. The ones with the kissing.”

Eight’s eyes widened and her face turned a bright shade of red, making Pearl break into a fit of laughter.

“I- Well I wouldn’t, I mean, I kinda want to, but I don’t…” Eight sputtered.

Marina giggled. “You should tell her. Sounds like you’ve felt like this for a long time.”

Eight buried her face in her hands. “B-But…”

Pearl’s laughter stopped abruptly, and she cleared her throat. “I’m pretty sure she feels the same way, kid.”

Eight peaked through her fingers. “Really? You think she would?”

“Oh, Eight, you have no idea. She looks at you like you’re the most beautiful cephalopod in the universe!” Marina said, clasping her hands together dramatically. “But we won’t force you to do something if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“But,” Pearl interjected, “Ya never know if another girl might just… Swoop right in, and take her.”

Eight lowered her hands and avoided eye contact with both of them, attempting to register what she was feeling and what she should do.

“Well uhm… What should I try to do then?”

Eight stayed up all night, brainstorming and writing all her feelings down. She woke up in an uncomfortable position on her desk, drooling on a notebook and paper.

She paused for a moment, looking out the window beside her. The sun was just rising and the sky was an orange-pink colour. When she realized what she was doing, she leaned back and stretched with a loud yawn. She then collected her scattered belongings on her desk.

In front of her was a piece of pink, cutesy expensive looking stock paper.

Scribbled on it was cursive inklish, accompanied by small doodles of an octopus and a squid surrounded by hearts and stars.

The octoling smiled to herself as she read it:

Yellow is what I saw when I came here,

It was the welcoming sun when I found my freedom

Yellow is in your eyes when you’re near

You make my heart beat quite like a drum

My heart unsteady, will I be ready?

To be in your arms, when the time comes

When I’m with you, I always feel steady

There’s a pull on my heartstrings, a melody strums

Normally, the girl had a talent for conjuring poems on a whim. She would take her journal almost everywhere she went, and wrote short poems about things she saw in Inkopolis or whatever was on her mind. But this poem wasn’t exactly like the others - it had to be perfect; she had to put her hearts into it and everything. Eight found herself staying up until 4 am in order to achieve this.

Agent Eight read it over and over in her head, rewriting it countless times in order for it to meet her standards. She read it out loud, adding in extra words or taking a few out. She tried to incorporate more rhymes but a few of them fell flat. Finally, she wrote one that she loved best.

Despite that, she felt a lump in her throat and her stomach twist in knots.

What would Agent Three think of it?

Would she even like it? Would she understand it? Is it not straightforward enough? Maybe she should add more hearts — or perhaps a flower or two. But what if Agent Three understood it and didn’t like it?

What if she ended up hating her or thinks she’s disgusting?

The octoling shook her head and pushed the negative thoughts away. She had to try at the very least. She was terrified, but she still had a chance according to Pearl — and Pearl always gave her good advice.

Pushing herself away from the desk, she set off to do her morning routine and text Agent Three (even if it did take her almost half an hour to press the send button), asking her if she would like to practice aiming in a private battle today.

She received a reply rather quickly, something she didn’t expect as Agent Three isn’t normally awake for another few hours. Eight wondered if this meant she pulled an all nighter again. She made a mental note to pester Three about this later.

She opened her messenger to reply to her friend.

E 7:23AM: Good morning! If you are not busy, do you want to play target practice in a private battle this afternoon? 🐙🔫

T 7:56AM: why is the octopus pointing the gun at herself

T 7:56AM: who gave her that anyways

T 7:57AM: thats dangerous

E 7:59AM: She’s holding it, silly. She wants to practice, too! 💪🏻🐙

T 8:01AM: o ok

T 8:01AM: what a determined octopus

T 8:01AM: determinpus

E 8:02AM: ? I don’t get it.

T 8:05AM: …

E 8:06AM: Oh! I get it now! lol!!!!

E 8:06AM: She is a determined octopus! You mixed the words together. You’re so clever. 😙

T 8:06AM: aaa

T 8:07AM: yes

T 8:07AM: anyways sure we can pb

E 8:10AM: Yay! What time? 🐙⏱

T 8:13AM: is an hour from now ok

T 8:13AM: i might turf after so

E 8:15AM: Yes, yess ! See you there! 🐙♥️

When Agent Eight closed her phone’s messenger app, she lifted a hand to find her cheeks burning and sore from blushing. Agent Three is just too cute and she felt so lucky. Everyone else found the inkling to be silent and intimidating, but in reality she was a huge softie that only a select few people got to see.

And she happened to be one of those select few.

Agent Three impatiently checked her watch as she waited outside the private battle lobby she reserved almost 10 minutes ago. In one hand was a suitcase containing her charger gear, and next to her feet was a duffel bag full of different outfits she thought would be useful.

It had been over an hour since her octoling friend asked to meet her there. She checked her messages and the time again. No, Three was on time. Why was Eight so late?

A bead of sweat dripped down the inkling’s cheek. The octoling was never late, and she was sure there was a logical reason for her to be this time, but what if —

“‘Ree!” Three heard from behind her, making her ears perk. Just before she could turn around, she felt warm arms wrap around her torso from behind. For a moment she stiffened, but as soon as she registered who was behind her her body relaxed.

“Ree, goodness, I’m so sorry I’m late!” Eight said, leaning back to look at Three – who had now turned her head to face Eight – but still holding onto her. She really had no sense of personal space.

“It… It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” With gentle hands, she grasped the octoling’s arms and free’d herself from the other’s grip easily. She swore she heard the other whine, though. “What happened? You’re usually early.”

“Oh, well I, ah,” Eight’s tentacles moved inwards and outwards, like they were trying to grab onto something as she spoke. “I got a little sidetracked after strolling past the new stores downtown! There was a comely little antique shop next to the new confectionery and —“ Realizing she was beginning to ramble and use words the inkling doesn’t seem to know, she slowed down. “I just got a little distracted is all, haha.”

“I see,” was all Three managed to comment. Eight’s rambling was absolutely adorable to her, especially when she got excited, so she really didn’t mind. “Do you want me to set it up?”

“Oh, right, yes, of course!”

The two stepped forward to the lobby’s station, with Three setting the battle up using a tablet beside the door.

“Do you want to play target first?” Three asked as she looked for a decent map, eventually settling for Sturgeon Shipyard. Their target practices considered of one person playing “target” on the alpha team, using a brush to zip around the map while the player on bravo tried to splat them with a charger.

“I always play target first,” Eight replied, followed by a giggle, “I want to snipe first this time.”

“Alright, then. Let’s get started.”

The two of them played for over an hour and it was clear they were both getting rather tired.

Eight was winning the nonexistent competition so far, getting almost 20 splats on Three every time it was her turn. It was a bit unfair, really — she had always been good with a charger, and she certainly knew how to use an e-litre.

Three, on the other hand, was clearly struggling and needed this practice far more than the octoling did. She was used to only really using one type of weapon: a standard splattershot, or maybe her heroshot. While she was talented with those weapons, she found herself fumbling with the charger and having difficulties holding it correctly.

The inkling was getting frustrated, and Eight had to make a move soon before the other called it a day.

But she had an idea. It was a mischievous one, sure, but she knew she could get a few giggles out of Three if she did it and initiated her plan at the same time.

Eight smirked to herself, slamming her inkbrush down in front of her and running just outside of the charger’s range. She stifled a giggle when she heard the inkling jump down from her perch to pursue her, not actually expecting Three to take the bait.

She ducked behind a wall on her side of the map, not bothering to hide in her ink. She had a death grip on her inkbrush, her hands sweating and shaking. Her plan was starting to seem like less of a good idea now, and all the potential negative outcomes flowed through her mind. She was so confident a moment ago, why was she now so afraid? She couldn’t wrap her head around her own emotions, but she knew she was starting to doubt herself. Despite this, she decided to ignore the rampant thoughts.

Eight took a deep breath and peeked over the wall. Three was in the middle of the map, aiming opposite of Eight’s position. She couldn’t help but giggle at the sight, Three looked so silly — she was supposed to be one of the strongest inklings in existence, yet she was completely unaware of her surroundings despite her serious, concentrated demeanour.

Of course, she still heard the octoling and spun around to shoot. Fortunately, she missed. Eight used this as a time to strike and ran zipped towards the inkling, zig-zagging away from her attempted shots.

She turned quickly and circled the other agent, once, twice, three times before slipping something in her pocket and darting away. She didn’t get very far before she felt a concentrated shot on her back and the world going black — and when she opened her eyes, she had respawned on the other side of the map.

Shaking off excess ink, Eight laughed nervously and ran back towards the middle.

“‘Ree, good job! You finally got me!” Eight giggled.

Eight’s heart stopped when she saw Agent Three standing still. Upon looking closer, she realized Three was already reading her note. She dropped her inkbrush and slowly approached the inkling, her feet like concrete and her heart beating in her ears. She could feel her arms shaking rapidly as butterflies formed in her stomach and flew all the way into her chest.

“Um… Three?” She squeaked as she finally stood close enough to her.

“Eight, what is this?” Three asked. The inkling seemed mildly confused as she gazed at the note, straightening it with her hands.

“Oh, ah, well, you see…” Eight stammered. Her tentacles began to contract rapidly as she searched for words to say, struggling as she did so. “You’re really important to me so, I thought maybe, I could—“

“It’s really nice.”

“—I could make something for you and — oh! It… It is?” Eight felt a wave of multiple emotions flow course through her body. She was relieved that the inkling didn’t seem upset, but she also had trouble figuring out just how the other may feel as well, bringing her a sense of excitement and fear to what Agent Three might say.

“Does this mean that you, uh…” Eight mumbled, trying to figure out Three’s thoughts.

“Well, it’s a pretty poem,” Three nodded. “You’re always so good with these. I don’t know if I really get it, but the little drawings are really cute.“

Eight’s hearts sank again.

She didn’t… understand it? Even with the pink cardstock, stickers, and little doodles she drew on it?

Eight felt like she was going to cry, but instead she took a deep breath.

“I uhm, Three…” She began, gently pushing the card out of Three’s focus. She made direct eye contact and felt her face heat up. If she wanted to get the message through, then perhaps she’d have to be straightforward. “I wrote it because I-I…”

She looked away and fumbled with the hem of her shirt. This was harder than she expected. Eight felt like there was something caught in her throat, unable to escape.

Suddenly she felt something warm touch her hands. When she looked down, Three had put her hands in hers. “Eight, are you okay?”

The octoling bit her bottom lip and looked back up, not exactly making eye contact this time but still keeping her attention focused on the agent.

“I have a crush on you, Agent Three. I really, really like you.”

Three’s eyes widened and Eight noticed her cheeks begin to flush red. She saw surprise, fear, and excitement shine through the other all at once. She wanted to back away and hide, and she attempted to do so, but Three gave her hands a reassuring squeeze.

Seconds passed, but they felt like years. Neither knew what to say or how to react, all they knew was that the air around them felt different, and now things were different.

Three was the first to break the silence, mumbling something Eight couldn’t hear.

“What was that?” She said, just above a whisper.

“I have…a crush on you, too.” Three repeated, looking away as her face turned a bright red.

Eight smiled. She smiled almost as big as she did when she first reached the surface. The inkling felt the same way, she didn’t think she was weird, she liked her too and now…

“That makes me so happy,” the octoling whispered, leaning her head onto the other’s. Three didn’t flinch or lean back, welcoming the act. She could feel the inkling’s nervous breath on her face. “You make me so happy.”

Three was overwhelmed with emotions. She wanted to play it cool, to act tough and not embarrass herself. But in reality, she wanted to skip and jump for joy.

“Wh-What now?” Three said.

“Well, uhm,” Eight’s eyes fell onto Three’s lips. “Can I… Can I kiss you?”

“You don’t need to ask,” Three smiled.

Eight found herself giggling, heat rising to her chest. She pulled Agent Three closer to her, closing the gap between both of them as they stared into each others eyes. Agent Three’s yellow reminded Eight of the sunset, warm and welcoming like when she first set foot in Inkopolis. And through Three’s eyes, Eight could tell she was trying to mask her shyness to no avail, making her heart swell with how cute the inkling was. It was just a few moments that they stared into each others eyes with hesitation, until Eight leaned in closer and finally pressed her lips against Three’s.

The kiss was a little awkward, but Eight could feel her heart bursting like a blaster shot. Even though their teeth clashed together and the kiss was overall messy (causing both of them to giggle), it was unlike anything the cephalopods have ever experienced before in their lives.

#Splatoon #Agent 24 #Agent 3 #Agent 8 #Pearlina #Pearl #Marina #Off the Hook #My writing #my fics #Prompts

223 notes · View notes

random-imagines-blog · 6 years

Text

Someone Dangerous: A Toni Topaz Story [Chapter Three]

Wordcount: 1913 Summary: Toni and Lyn become closer. Lyn’s time is divided. Other Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Final Chapter Lyn found it surprisingly easy to blend in with her classmates. The most interesting thing that she had done was turn down Reggie Mantle, which had blown over pretty quickly, especially now that Reggie claimed that he was just joking and the new girl wasn’t worth his time. A trivial thing like that was hardly something to get upset over in the grand scheme of things so Lyn let it slide and kept her head down, went to classes, and acted friendly but not overly so.

Toni was waiting for her in her final class, however. She was sitting in the seat next to where Lyn usually sat, with her books spread out in front of her, evidently making herself well at home at this different desk. The chair scraped when Lyn pulled it out and Toni looked up from her phone and at first noted the flash of red from the wristband which was once more hidden under a jacket. At a second’s notice, she quickly pressed the camera button on her phone and tried to catch a sneaky picture of it, wanting to know what it was. There was something weird about it that kept drawing her attention towards the new girl, and she wanted to get to the bottom of it.

“Do anything fun last night?” Toni asked casually. She liked the look of her, how she had a quiet confidence, and so far you seemed to keep out of trouble. It appealed to her - maybe she could have a friend outside of the Serpents - or one day convince her to join them. She had done well with recruiting Jughead, and with this new gang out there - they could use all the manpower that they could get.

“Started the outline of my essay, made a smoothie, nothing too fun.” Lyn said, bringing her books out of her bag and putting them onto the desk. She gave Toni a close-lipped smile. “What about you?”

“Nothing.” Toni said, slumping slightly, looking over at Jughead. “Pop’s has some great milkshakes, if you ever feel like one.”

“I’ve heard of it but never been. Thanks for the advice.” Lyn said, focusing her attention forward.

“Okay, Green, keep quiet.” Toni said, leaning back in her chair as the teacher came inside, and played with the hairs that were falling gracefully on either side of her face. “Maybe we’ll talk again -”

“Wait.” Lyn said, surprising herself. She had told herself that she wasn’t going to form any attachments at this school. She surely had not intended to but Toni was, to put it lightly, absolutely beautiful and she was really trying. She had to appreciate that. “Sorry, I’m just a little shy. I’m not good at talking to new people...” She bit on her lip and offered an apologetic smile.

“It’s fine. I don’t really like talking to Northsiders either,” Toni laughed, relaxing. “If you ever need anyone to sit with at lunch, there’s always a spot with us.” She winked, set the chair on four legs and went to her own desk before the teacher started the lesson.

Lyn took those words and you followed through - the next day when she walked into the cafeteria, she brought her bagged lunch and looked around for a certain table rather than just an empty chair to occupy for a couple of minutes and then disappear. Toni’s pink hair caught her attention immediately and more eagerly than she had anticipated, she walked over to the table and took the seat next to the beautiful girl.

“Seat still available?” She asked, though she was already sitting in it. Toni took a look at the table’s newcomer, licked her lips and nodded.

“Always.” She said. She introduced you to the rest of the Serpents, including Betty, which she never in a million years would have guessed. The Gang World wasn’t a place for the innocent, Lyn knew, so she suspected there was more to the blonde girl than what met the eye. But she wasn’t interested in that. Toni kept drawing her attention, bringing her into conversations, catching her up on some things that had been happening without getting into gang drama.

That became Lyn’s spot every lunch hour. Right there beside Toni, who always made room for her by her side. Little by little, she started to give in little details about herself that didn’t give away any of the secrets of the Devil’s Advocates. Things like how she enjoyed bowling, how she really liked the music of David Bowie, she went to the movies by herself quite a lot and how she was thinking of getting a goldfish because being in a new place without anyone to hang out with could be very lonely. Jughead, Toni and Betty were the ones who did most of the listening. The other Serpents were too caught up in their business to pay any attention to the new girl, which was perfect for Lyn. She had even surprised herself by opening as much as she had to these three but they were stubborn. She could play a role until she graduated, so she thought.

As she gave out information about herself, she got some information about Toni as well. Her family had been a part of the Serpents as far back as she could recall, she occasionally bartended at a place called The Whyte Wyrm, she has her bellybutton pierced, loves jewelry and she is a proud bisexual who doesn’t hide who she is. That was the main difference that Lyn detected - while she had to hide most things about herself in order to stay safe and run the controls, Toni let things into the open.

On top of sitting together at lunch, once in a while, Toni would invite her out to do things after school. There were only so many times that Lyn could decline because she really did need to appear to be a regular teenage girl in order to keep suspicion off of her. Toni had taken her to Pop’s, had given her a tour of the Whyte Wyrm and showed her how to move the Pinball machine just right to make the ball go into a perfect position for extra points. Lyn found herself actually having a good time and enjoying herself.

Today, they were at a park where Toni was taking photographs, trying out a new lens that she had bought online for her camera. “So what’s on that wristband?” She asked Lyn casually, lifting the camera and taking a snapshot of a squirrel in a tree. It was a practice shot, no doubt, but she could always use that practice.

Lyn flinched a little and then reluctantly raised her wrist to show what was around it. It looked like a wristband that one got at a festival, but instead of a name, place and date on it, there was just a little symbol. To Toni, it looked familiar, but at the same time, something she hadn’t seen before. She made it look like she wasn’t evaluating it too seriously.

“My sister made it for me. When she would go out to concerts with her friends, she made me these so that I would feel included. She’d doodle on them.” This was the first time that Lyn was mentioning her sister, but the tone in her voice definitely echoed the fact she didn’t want to get further into it.

But Toni just could not help herself.

“What happened to her?” She asked, the inner reporter in her decided to flower. She’d blame Jones for that. “You just seemed to mention her in past tense-”

“She died a couple of years ago. I don’t really like to talk about it though, if you don’t mind.” Lyn cut in, and then smiled uneasily. “Sorry, I just don’t really like to let people into that part of my life. It’s dark, you know? I acknowledge it’s there and it changed me but I’m looking towards the future, towards the light. Make something of myself for the both of us.”

Balancing her time between school, hanging out with Toni and Devil’s Advocates was extremely difficult. She often turned up to her own meetings late, or did her homework with Toni, or even had a piece of paper stashed in her notebook of ideas of what to do to the Ghoulies next. It seemed best to let things calm down and let them think that they were safe. But the Ghoulies weren’t entirely stupid and they would have to strike again soon before they were found out.

“You’re on thin ice kid,” Alec, one of the higher ranked members told Lyn when she had nearly fallen asleep at a meeting. “You’re cracking.”

“I’m fine, Alec. I just need to keep focusing on my cover.” Lyn said sleepily. Alec offered her a ride home and she had taken it, and curled up in the front seat of his car, avoiding looking towards the window in case anyone spotted her.

“Having milkshakes with that Serpent Girl isn’t part of your cover.” The pony-tailed man grunted.

“I know.” She sighed. “I’m dealing with it, okay? As your superior, trust me. We’ll be making our next move soon, be patient.”

“You better stay focused, it’s not just your cover on the line.”

The Ghoulies had been keeping an eye on the Serpents, but nothing bad seemed to happen to them. Malachai especially has been keeping his eye on Toni and Jughead. The teenagers looked to be the ones running things but the only thing out of the ordinary was this new girl that Toni’s been hanging out with. A quick check turned up nothing, and the worst that could happen was she became collateral damage. No pain to Malachai, anyone who had anything to do with the roadblocks deserved to receive pain, whether they just knew the person who did it or not.

Despite the grafitti, he was still sure that the Serpents had something to do with it, or were working with the Devil’s Advocates. Day after day passed and there was no hit.

Malachai had to get the ball rolling.

A little bit of grab and stab would be sure to get some answers, wouldn’t it?

Lyn turned up for school on Monday and was expecting to see Toni at her locker, but nobody was waiting for her. She hummed to herself, and didn’t think much of it. People skipped school all of the time - it wasn’t a big deal.

But when a member of the Serpents named Fang started to walk towards her, she started to feel that something was wrong. He hardly talked to her, even at lunch. It wasn’t an avoidance, the two just had nothing in common and left it at that.

“You hear of the Ghoulies?” He whispered to Lyn, eyes darting around at everyone that walked past them as if looking for suspects.

Just the hearing of the name caused Lyn’s blood to feel like ice. She nodded, saying nothing.

“Toni seemed to trust you so I’m telling you now, if you had anything to do with her kidnapping, the Serpents are going to find out.”

#Toni Topaz #Toni Topaz story #Someone Dangerous #Riverdale #Riverdale Stories #Stories #Toni Topaz x OC #tonit

16 notes · View notes