#all of these are based off of cat pictures i found
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brainrot-communis · 4 months ago
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Weird looking cats
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The wretched beasts from the itty bitty au by @jube-art @salparadiselost and @spookyprime
i think they're so neat
drawings referenced for jason and tim
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leyavo · 4 months ago
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Simon x Cat x Neighbour!reader
Part two > (previous part)
Simon Riley was a lot like his cat, dropping by your flat whenever he wanted. Thanking you for looking after Cat in small little ways.
Bringing you home little trinkets from his work travels. “Got it from some market, can’t tell you where though. Would have to kill ya and I really don’t want that.” Little things that line every inch of your windowsill, crystals he’s found because he knows you like them.
Thankfully it wasn’t a mouse, Simon hunting one down after Cat delivered one to you. And as you watched him pause, head angled to listen for the squeaks or little scurries. You couldn’t help but think he was a cat too. For a big guy, he was light on his feet and everything he did quiet.
“Dinner?” You asked, trying not to look at the mouse dangling between Simon’s finger and thumb by its tail. “Not a huge fan of rodent.”
He invites you into his flat for the first time, promising that it’s rodent free. “Woah your place is real big,” you say, opening your arms in the space as if you expected to touch wall to wall. Simon’s thinking of all the activities he could do with you, but decides dinners a good start.
Dinner turns into grabbing a morning coffee after a run and even going on evening runs, which angers him because before him you never would have done so alone. Sitting on the bench in the park to stretch or take a rest as you sip your water bottle, stickers decorating the outside.
When the pipe under your sink was dripping water for months, he fixed it and you didn’t find out till you went to check if the bucket was full of water again. No, no bucket under the sink. There was a small tool box in its place, stuff you had no idea what to do with.
Cat was drinking from the bucket under the sink, that’s how Simon discovered it. He’s even got a picture of it on his phone as well as a load of pictures you’d sent him with Cat. Sometimes he looks through them in his room back at the base. A few videos of your soft voice calling Cat.
So you sent him a picture of said toolbox and messaged him. “Did the fairies visit me?” He didn’t respond till the next day, “big bloody fairy.” promising to show you what they were for and sending you a video of basic plumbing if you wanted to learn yourself whilst you waited for his return.
Cue Simon teaching you how to fix the plumbing in your flat. The two of you squeezed into the little box of a bathroom as he listened to you explain about the low pressure of the shower and the tap on the sink you wanted to swap with something pretty.
The eroded shower hose snapping and spraying the both of you with water. Simon’s hoody drenched, sticking to every curve and dip of his muscles. Your back leant against the wall as his arm reached above you to turn the water off.
“I really wanna kiss ya,” he said, head inching closer to yours, gaze flitting to your lips. “Kiss me.”
You use his place for sex and make sure Cat is in your flat, “don’t want the kid to see,” is what Simon says.
Whenever Simon sees you’ve run out of anything, he’ll pick it up when he’s doing his weekly food shop. The coffee sachets refilled when you go to the kettle and when you ask, Simon shrugs “the fairies,” he says, sipping his cup of tea with the morning paper.
Even when you are officially dating you were still going between the two flats. Joking that cat had the studio and you could stay with Simon.
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gghostwriter · 9 months ago
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Wanted: A Gentleman
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Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Part 2 || Future take Summary: Your lovely group of friends, Penelope, JJ, and Emily, set you up with your perfect match Trope: Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 1.3k a/n: Back at it again with something miss Sabrina Carpenter inspired. The fluff idea has finally struck and I love how this ended up, even without any editing! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💗 masterlist
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“I’m serious!” You clarified, wiggling to get comfy on Penelope’s sofa. “It was the worst date I’ve ever been on!”
All the three girls laughed. It was Friday night, girl’s night, and you found yourself surrounded by the baddest girls Virginia could ever offer. The Powerpuff girls of the BAU as you once jokingly dubbed them—JJ being Blossom, Penelope being Bubbles, and Emily being Buttercup. Witty thinking on your part, if you say so yourself. 
Having just moved into the state just a few months ago, you were grateful for the ray of sunshine that Penelope was for taking you under her wing and introducing you to a great set of girlfriends.
“It can’t be that bad—” JJ giggled as she took a sip of her newly refilled glass wine. “Can it?”
Bringing out your phone, you swiped to the screenshot Bumble profile of your date the night before. He wasn’t bad looking, not at all. He was cute in a very American boy next door type of way but then again, his profile being filled with gym pictures should have clued you in.
“We had dinner at that newly opened restaurant, Palm & Pine, which is a great place by the way, but all he ever did was talk about himself—”
Emily nodded along. “Typical macho male behavior.”
“—that wasn’t even the worst part! He brought out a scale, a portable weighing scale, to log his macro calories in a fitness app!”
Penelope chose the wrong time to take a sip of her drink causing her cough violently while the two remaining girls threw back their heads and laughed hysterically. All you could hear were gasps of weighing scale and calories between them.
“I’m all for being healthy but really? On a first date?” You crossed your arms to your chest. “At this point, I might as well get a cat or two to keep me company.”
Penelope snatched your phone and clicked to open the dating app. “Oh no no, sweetheart. You’re too beautiful and nice to end up alone. We can find you a perfect man to love and take home with!”
“Yeah, we’re profilers. Trust us to pick for you,” Emily slyly added as she peeked behind Garcia’s shoulder.
Reaching out for the opened bottle of alcohol, you sighed in defeat and let the girls do their thing. “I’m going to need copious amounts of alcohol in my system for this.”
———
It was bad. Based on all their comments and numerous swipes to the left, the dating pool was atrocious, hell on earth. 
“He looks cute—” Penelope continue to scroll on his profile before making a face. “Never mind, look at that horrible grammar.”
JJ leaned in and read the poor man’s bio. “Theirs a million reasons why I’m your future boyfriend—Jesus, it’s really hard out there, huh?”
“I’d take any man who’s nice and breathes,” you laugh in despair. 
Emily’s eyes twinkle from a sudden idea. Everyone had been drinking continuously and the filter had been turned off by the time the third bottle was opened. Any thought made beyond just screamed bad idea. “You know, we could just set you up with Reid.”
“Reid?” you tilted your head to the side. What kind of a name is that? Its very…unique. “You have a co-worker named Reid? As in that’s his first name?”
“No, no, no. His name is Spencer, Reid is just his last name,” JJ clarified, leaning forward with a sweet smile on her face. Oh no, you knew that look. She was very much into this.
Penelope slides your phone to you and promptly claps her hands in glee. “You’re so right! Why didn’t I think of that!”
“Right,” Emily turned to face the other two. “They’d be great for each other. Now we just have to get him to agree. JJ—” the blonde raised her eyebrows. “—can you talk to Reid about it?”
She shrugged. “I could but you know how stubborn he is.”
“I’ll blackmail him if I have to,” Penelope interjected. “Boy genius needs to meet our own girl genius. They’ll be perfect for each other, he just doesn’t know it.”
Your eyes volleyed in between the three. “Don’t I have a say in this?”
Emily tsk’ed as she turned her inquisitive dark eyes on you. “I’ll cash in on that prize I won last time.”
“No,” you breathed out, remembering how you badly lost last poker night and vowed to do any dare the winner would tell you to do.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes,” her smile growing wider and wider with each denial. 
Your shoulders slumped forward. “Fine but he better be the love of my life or you owe me big time.”
“Don’t worry your pretty head. He will be,” Penelope laughed, pouring more wine in all of the glasses. “Cheers!”
———
It took three weeks before the girls were finally able to wear the mysterious Dr. Spencer Reid down and in the midst of waiting (and stubbornly hoping that he would never give in), you learned more about the boy genius than you ever wished for. How he has an IQ of 187, graduated high school at the age of 12, has 3 PhDs under his belt, and an avid reader—like yourself. 
You begrudgingly admitted that he spiked your interest and having someone to talk to about books would be lovely but beyond that, you were slightly intimidated by his background which made yours, a literature degree graduate and publishing editor, seem insignificant. Penelope tried to squash that negative thought once you aired it out in the open by saying that Spencer wasn’t the type to judge anyone based on their societal standing. If anything, he’d find you interesting, she urged.
But there was one information you weren’t privy to, how he looks like. The girls didn’t want to show any photos, stating it’s best to see him face to face rather than through an image, which in turn made you imagine the worst. 
You looked around, standing on the second step of the museum as you try to spot any curly, hazel haired man walking your way. He wasn’t late, you were just too anxious to be fashionably late. 
Someone stopped in front of you at the bottom of the steps. 
“Are you—” the doe eyed stranger cleared his throat. “Y/N? Penelope’s friend?”
Oh damn. He was beautiful.
“Yes, are you Dr. Spencer Reid?” You squeaked. 
He smiled, stunning you into even more into awe. “Hi, yes. Yes, Spencer is fine.”
“Should we go inside?” You breathed out as you watched his cheeks reddened, no doubt matching the color of your own.
He nodded before slightly touching your arm to stop you in place and bending down like he was some kind of knight and shining armor and for all you knew, he could be. “Your shoelace is undone. Did you know that there’s more than 1,000 cases related to loss of footing each year and 67% of these falls were attribute to untied shoelaces?”
“We wouldn’t want to contribute to that, do we?” You quipped back as you studied how the sunlight hit his wavy locks, turning some into gold, and his doe expressive eyes with specs of green in them. Your favorite color as of today.
He laughed, his high pitched chuckle further capturing your heart. “Shall we?”
“We shall.” 
Your thoughts thanking the three women for setting you up with what seemed to be a perfect gentleman. 
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Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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emeraldserenade · 5 days ago
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Pen Pals ~ Robert "Bob" Floyd
synopsis: You sign up for your college's program where you become pen pals to a military personnel that needs one. You just happen to fall in love with the friend of your pen pal without ever meeting him
tw: fem!reader, Iceman lives because I say he does, slow burn, reader's parents die when she's 18, found family, reader's friends die in a car crash, reader can count cards, barely edited.
fic, ficlet, drabble, request
This took me DAYS to write but I am so proud of it. This is LONG
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Your college had a program, you would sign up and become pen pals with military personnel that didn't have one. You signed up because you had no one either, your parents both died in a car crash and you were an only child.
Turns out that your pen pal was the same way, Bradley, or Rooster, lost his father to a training mission gone wrong and his mom died of cancer. You two became fast friends after the revolution, he was over seas a lot, but recently told you that he was being called for a new mission and gave you a new address. It's one you recognized, you've sent him letters there before. San Diego seemed to always be his home base, which was nice since you also lived there.
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Bradley loved getting your letters, they filled a void in his heart. He's gotten in trouble one too many times defending you from the other guys. He kept your picture in his helmet and called you his sister to any one who asked.
"Rooster, you got a letter," Pete called to Bradley as he walked in. You always sent your newer letters to the base he was stationed at before he could tell you where he was staying.
"Still getting letters from that girl?" Jake teased but Bradley ignored him, you told him to stop getting in trouble for fighting for you in one of your letters.
"Who sends you letters?" Natasha meant it in the nicest way possible but Bradley stood up straighter.
"Uh, y/n, she's practically my sister. Her college does this program where they will pair up a student with a military personnel that doesn't have someone to write to them. She's been my pen pal since bootcamp," Bradley explained, tucking the letter into the pocket of his flight suit. "She knows about all of you," Bradley added on.
"Have you ever met her?"
"No, but she's sent me polaroids of her and her friends. Just simple photos taken while they were out at the park or the one she sent of them getting drunk at a frat party," Bradley reached into the pocket above his heart and pulled the polaroid from it. He handed it to Natasha who smiled at the photo. You were laying on the floor with your cat resting on your chest, you were flipping the camera off but there was a huge smile plastered on your face.
"She's pretty," Natasha pointed out and Bradley nodded.
"Careful, Phoenix, Rooster's fought people because of her before," Jake said loudly.
"Only those that try to objectify her, she deserves better than that," Bradley said strongly, it made Pete smile seeing Bradley so protective of someone.
"Hey, I'll join any fight you start for her," Natasha stated, already feeling a bond with the girl nice enough to write letters to a stranger.
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You were anxiously waiting for Bradley's next letter, you asked in the last one for photos of everyone. You knew he went on that super top secret mission earlier in the week but didn't know when he got back. And you specifically asked for more information about Robert Floyd, you had started growing a crush on him without knowing him. You checked the mail when you got home and there was a letter waiting from Bradley.
Hey, Jake kinda forced me into telling everyone about you. Don't worry, I didn't fight him. As for Bob, he's not much shorter than me and he's a little bit more on the quiet side. You like him though, I can tell. I had everyone pose for photos for you and added them to the envelope, some where taken at the Hard Deck too. My number is also at the end of this letter, the rest teased me about never giving it to you and never getting yours. Oh and the mission was a success. (xxx)xxx-xxxx ps, if you do develop a crush on any of them, Bob isn't a bad choice. - your not brother, brother, Bradley
You smiled as you read the letter, you figured Bradley would know you had a crush on Bob. You looked at each picture, taken off a polaroid like yours were. They each had the name of who was in it, each different hand writing and you guessed it was from who was in the picture. You paused when you saw Bob's, his military issued glasses and perfectly gelled hair somehow seemed to look amazing on him. He had a dorky smile on his face but you loved it.
you: Hey, it's y/n! I just got your letter Bradley: Hey! I hoped the pictures brought a smile to your face you: They did! You said you took some at the Hard Deck, right? Bradley: Yeah, why? you: I don't live far from there we could meet up, if you wanted to meet in person that is Bradley: Are you sure this isn't a way to meet Bob? you: Shut it! No, I actually want to meet my not brother brother Bradley: Then be there around 6 tonight! you: Will do, lieutenant
Six rolled around sooner than you expected and you found yourself standing by your car. You could tell it wasn't busy and the Bronco that was in some of Bradley's photos was parked outside. You hesitated to walk in, you knew Bradley but you've never seen him in person.
You took a deep breath and walked in, you were greeted with the loud music from the jukebox and the sight of a bunch of pilots in the back by the pool table. You beelined for the bar, knowing Penny could help calm your nerves, she was good at that when you worked here before.
"Hey, hon, what are you doing here?" Penny greeted you with a smile.
"Uh, remember that Navy pilot I'm pen pals with?" You questioned.
"Yeah, why?"
"He's here," you whispered and she raised an eyebrow.
"Your Bradley is the one over there playing pool?"
"Yeah," you nodded.
"Go say hi, he's been waiting for you since we opened," she shooed you away and, oddly enough, she did calm your nerves.
You didn't get far before you arm was grabbed, you were barely a step away from the bar. He was in a uniform and you had to guess he was a fresh wave since he wasn't in Bradley's photos or letters.
"What's a pretty little thing like you doing all alone?" The man pressed himself to you and you jumped back into the bar. You didn't have time to tell him off before you heard it.
One Two Three Four "Overboard!" The entire bar shouted as Penny finished her ringing of the bell. It's how you see Bradley for the first time, he walked over with the other men you recognized from the photos, Jake and Javy.
"Welcome to TOP GUN," Jake said as they hauled the man away from you.
"Rule number one: never mess with my sister," Bradley said as they literally threw him out the door and shut it in his face. Bradley beelined back to you and pulled you directly into his arms. "Are you ok?"
"Didn't I say to stop fighting people for me?" It was a joke, one that made Bradley laugh.
You were dragged to Bradley's friends and suddenly you had offically met everyone. You and Bradley got along as if you had been real siblings who grew up together, you met the infamous Pete "Maverick" Mitchell and promptly ripped him a new one, your anger about what he did to Bradley simmering since you learned about it.
"Are we sure she isn't your long lost sister?" Jake joked as you finished yelling at Pete, your eyes blazing as you stared him down.
"I can say you have made the short list of people who truly scare me, congrats," Pete Mitchell was, for once, at a loss for words. A laugh and a hand landing on your shoulder pulled you from your staring contest with Pete, you were greeted with the face of an nice looking older man.
"Admiral Kazansky," the pilots around you saluted and greeted the man but he waved them off.
"Admiral, it's nice to meet you," you offered your hand, the only one not in the Navy so the only one not to salute.
"Please, after that wonderful tell off to Mav here, call me Tom," he shook your hand and you smiled.
You spent your night with the pilots, new and old, before going back home. Not having drank meant you could drive back home, which is what you did.
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You had become an honorary member of the Dagger Squad, your fake call sign Birdie came from the fact that Bradley wouldn't stop calling you his sister.
"Birdie!" You were headed to your car from class when you heard your nickname be called from across the quad. You grimaced as a bunch of your fellow grad students looked at you. You looked over and saw your gaggle of pilots running towards you. "We're going roller skating tonight, wanna join?" Mickey asked and you nodded.
"Why not put this in the group chat?" You questioned.
"These knuckleheads forgot you weren't in the groupchat that we have for work related things," Natasha revealed and you laughed.
"Ah, what are you all doing here?"
"We came to ask you," Mickey smiled and you scrunched your eyebrows together. "And because we all were in two cars and thought we would surprise you," Mickey added on and you nodded.
"Well, now we have three, who wants to ride with me?" Automatically Natasha, Mickey, and Bob claimed your car and the others went back to the other cars.
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You found your old roller skates tucked away in your closet, you had stopped at your apartment with the Dagger Squad to get changed and ready. Your outfit consisted of a white tennis skirt, a black tank top, and one of the Hawaiian shirts you had stolen from Bradley after getting bear spilt on you at the Hard Deck.
"I'm ready to go!" You announced and smiled as Bradley shook his head at you.
"Stealing my look?" Bradley joked.
"What can I say? I wear it better," you smiled at him as he threw his arm around your neck and pulled you into a side hug.
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Pulling up to the roller rink was fun, everyone had taken the three cars and you still had Natasha, Bob, and Mickey. The four of you had been singing and laughing the whole way there, even though you had to practically bat your eyes at Bob to get him to sing. It made it easier to do that since Natasha insisted on driving.
"I am NOT riding with chicken next time," Jake complained as he jumped out of Bradley's bronco.
"It couldn't have been that bad," you tried to reason but Bob gently placed his hand on your arm and shook his head at you. You stayed silent as the group walked in, you hung back with Bob as everyone walked. "You look nice," you told him, taking a glance at the shorts and plain shirt be wore.
"Thanks, uh, so do you," he nervously said and you gave him a smile.
"Birdie, you have your own skates?" Jake asked as everyone else was getting rentals.
"Yeah," you nodded, not particularly wanting to just tell the story on why you have them that night.
"Why?" Jake asked the question you knew was coming so you took a deep breath.
"I got them for a frat party my sophomore year of undergrad," you lied and saw him smirk before laughing.
"Why do you need roller skates for a frat party?"
"Because, I just did," you argued back before finishing up your lacing and standing up, you could have told the truth but didn't feel like bringing down the mood. You glided across the floor with ease, it was something you did on the weekends with your parents growing up before the died. You paused by Bob and leaned against the wall of the rink across from him, you watched as he stood and was surprisingly steady. "You can skate?"
"Yeah, I did it a lot with my younger brother," Bob told you and you smiled at him. You two made your way to the rink opening but you paused to help Mickey up and to steady himself.
"It's hard to explain how to skate but like, kinda push off the floor with your toes," you told him and watched him try. "Ok, just watch me for a moment," you told him before spinning to get on the rink and speed around it. You always felt free while skating, like you were gliding through the air without a care in the world. Before you knew it, Mickey was on the rink and skating around. It took him a moment to get the hang of it, but he did.
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You hung around Bob the entire night and Bob couldn't help but notice the way the print of Bradley's shirt you were wearing glowed under the lights. Your smile was contagious and he found himself smiling with you, ever since that night, the one where his friends threw the creep out of the bar and you fearlessly told Pete off, he found himself falling for you.
You were vocal about what you thought was right yet kind and soft spoken to those you loved. He envied the way you so carelessly talked to people and the way you seemed to hold attention so easily. Yet, you seemed to like him, he didn't dare think you could like him how he liked you. But you were always sticking with him, always taking his advice and opinions to heart, telling Jake to fuck off when he messed with Bob.
"Jake fucking Seresin!" You yelled as Jake wizzed past you two, almost knocking you off balance. "Can't believe this shit, can you?" You looked at Bob with a soft smile, the shock and malice in your voice gone. Bob was just glad it was 18+ night with the way you yelled out curse words when scared.
"No, I can't," Bob agreed with your words and you beamed at him, looping your arm through his and keeping up with the slow pace he set. "You didn't get those for a frat party, did you?" Bob asked before he could stop himself.
"No," you sighed, tightening your hold on him. "My parents died shortly after my 18th birthday, but they met in a roller rink. It was a couple's skate and they both had no date so they paired up, we went every weekend until they died," you admitted and Bob stopped moving.
"I'm sorry," he told you, looking you in the eyes.
"It's not your fault, you weren't the drunk driver that hit them," you told him, your eyes flickering to his lips for a moment.
"Stop flirting and start skating," Bradley said as he grabbed your waist and pulled you, pulling Bob along with since you refused to let him go.
"Bob, help me!" You laughed and he laughed with you.
"How am I supposed to help? I'm also being dragged?" Bob asked and you looked for a solution.
"Jake, annoy Bradley by coming to remove me from his hold!" You shouted to the blond, and true to his nature to want to annoy Bradley at any given chance, he came to help.
"Hangman, stop, she's my sister. It's my job to annoy her!" Bradley argued, trying to keep you in his hold.
"Tasha! Help!" You called for backup and soon the entire Dagger Squad was either trying to get you away from Bradley or for you to stay in his hold. You successfully got away and moved to Bob, grabbing onto him once again. "Let's go before Bradley realizes I'm no longer in his arms," you and Bob rushed off the rink and went to sit at one of the high top tables along the rink. You watched as Bob skated away and came back with two drinks and a large pretzel.
"I was going to get two pretzels but these things are huge," Bob said and you nodded in agreement. You two ate your pretzel, you occasionally breaking a piece off and feeding it to one of your friends as they skated by, and talked the whole time.
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Bradley was currently going through your laundry and taking all his clothes back. You two were waiting for the others to show up for movie night and you had pulled your laundry to the living room to fold.
"Why do you have so many of my shirts?" He asked as he grabbed the fourth one from your collection.
"It's my sisterly duty, my aunt tells me that all little sisters take their older siblings clothes. Just giving you the treatment you never got," you smiled as you plopped down on the floor next to him.
"You're making me wish I would have told them to get me another pen pal," Bradley sighed and you tackled him in outrage.
"Take it back!" You laughed, both you missing your apartment door opening. Natasha and Bob walked in followed by Mickey and Ruben, they were here early like always.
"No!" Bradley argued as he pushed you off him.
"Don't tell me no, take it back!" You pushed his shoulder as you laid on the floor laughing.
"What's going on here?" Natasha was the one to ask, she was also the only one (other than Bob) to never question if you two were truly only a sibling relationship.
"Bradley just told me he wished that he asked for a different pen pal!" You told them and watched as they all fake gasped.
"Bradshaw, how dare you be mean to our sister?" Mickey asked as he moved to sit on the floor with you two.
"Our sister? Then you can let her steal all of your shirts," Bradley said.
"Never mind," Mickey joked and you gave him an offended look.
"You two would let me steal your shirts, right?" You looked at Natasha and Bob, you knew Ruben would say no in honor of his wife.
"Of course I would," Natasha confirmed and Bob nodded.
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Movie night was in full swing and you were curled into Bradley's side, Bob was on your other side. You don't know why you agreed to a scary movie but you had a death grip on Bradley's hand, the one that was attached to the arm currently wrapped around you. Every time a jump scare would happen, you would tighten your grip and force yourself into his side even more.
"Birdie, I gotta go to the bathroom," he whispered and you looked at him with wide eyes. He sighed and looked over at Bob who was already looking at you two, a single nod between the two and you were being switched to lean into Bob. He wrapped his arm around you the same way Bradley had and let you bury your face into his chest and neck when the more gruesome parts came on. Bradley had come back from the bathroom by the end of the movie but you were still curled into Bob.
"Let's watch the second one," Jake said and you let out a squeak, one that called everyone's attention to the position you where in.
"There's more?" You questioned, your terror clear on your face.
"Yeah, All Hallows' Eve isn't technically the first but it's considered to be. Terrifier 1, 2, and 3 are the other ones," Mickey explained.
"Are we watching them all?" You pushed yourself even closer to Bob, you were as close as you could be without being in his lap. Your eyes darted to Natasha who stood and took the remote from Jake, staring his down when he tried to protest.
"No, we'll watch something else," she said and threw the remote at Mickey, he turned on The Princess Bride. As the movie played, you relaxed. You stayed pressed into Bob, simply enjoying his warmth and comfort, but you weren't jumping every few minutes.
The end of the movie rolled around and everyone was dissipating to separate spots for bed. You had an extra guest room, how you afforded this apartment was beyond you, and two air mattresses. Bradley ended up sprawled on your couch, Natasha claimed a whole bed to herself, Mickey and Ruben claimed a king sized air mattress, and Jake and Javy took the other king sized air mattress.
"I'm sure Rooster would let me have the couch and sleep in your bed with you, if you felt more comfortable," Bob offered but you ignored him and disappeared into your closet for a moment to change into the UVA shirt you managed to keep hidden from Bradley and a pair of shorts.
"No, it's fine. I'd rather you than Jake," you joked and Bob smiled, he shuffled into your bathroom to change and came out in nothing but grey sweatpants. You shuffled off to the side of your bed as Bob got in, he was tense and on the edge of the bed. "You don't have to make yourself small," you told him in a whisper.
"Oh," Bob sighed and moved in a little more, you two fell asleep at a respectful distance away from each other. Not that it stayed that way, you ended up tangled together
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You were met with the feeling of Bob pressed into you, his breathing was even but by the huff he let out when you pressed against his chest to sit up, he was awake.
"Sorry," you mumbled after you got up. You slowly climbed out of bed and made your way to the bathroom. Bob was still in your bed when you got out of the bathroom, there was something so domestic about him being in your bed. Something you didn't want to admit to yourself just yet, so you left the room.
You tiptoed your way past the extra room and into the kitchen, the only one awake was Jake.
"Good morning, Birdie," Jake smirked at you like he knew something.
"Morning, why is it always you awake first?" You questioned, pressing some buttons to start the hot water for your tea.
"Coyote was snoring in my ear," Jake told you, his smirk still present.
"Do you have something you want to say? You have that look," you made a vague gesture to his face.
"You spent the night in bed with, Bob," he said it like it explained everything.
"Ok, and? You guys too everywhere else," you told him leaning against the counter.
"You're telling me nothing happened?" Jake raised his eyebrow at you.
"That's exactly what I'm telling you," you replied and Bradley walked in. He glared at Jake as he walked to your coffee machine, taking the pot and pouring himself a cup.
"You're too loud," Bradley sneered but gave you a small side hug and a whispered good morning.
"And she's not?" Jake argued.
"Nope, it's her apartment anyway," Bradley shrugged and you gave Jake a smug grin.
✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧
Movie night had turned into an over 24 hour hang out. The entire Dagger Squad had the weekend off and since they were there Friday night, they stayed Saturday night as well.
Your Saturday consisted of going to shops and convincing Bob to let you do his makeup when you got back to your apartment. It's how you and Natasha found yourselves doing the boys' makeup, you were currently leaning over Mickey's face from your spot above him while he laid on his back.
"Mick, if you do not stop moving, I swear," you lowly threatened him as he shifted again, you were trying your best to do his eyeliner.
"You're stabbing me!" He announced and you huffed, gripping his chin and making him look straight up again.
"Stop moving," you finally told him, pursing your lips in frustration.
"Trace, you are not touching my face with that brush," Jake said as he slowly backed away from her, you had just finished with Mickey's makeup.
"I'll do it!" You announced with a wicked smile.
"Now I'm more open to Phoenix doing it," Jake muttered.
"Take your pick," you said, relaxing back into the couch. You counted to three in your head before speaking again. "Took too long, Phoenix is doing yours," you told Jake before turning to Bob. "You're next, come here," you pointed at Bob and then the floor in front of you. He swapped spots with Mickey, you smiled down at him as you gently took his glasses off.
"Phoenix you purposefully poked my eye," Jake loudly complained from across the room.
"I promise I won't poke you in the eye, or at least I'll try not to," you mumbled to Bob as you looked over his face. "You have such nice skin," you mumbled as you poked his cheek.
"Thank you, I think," Bob told you and you smiled down at him again. Bob was a nicer subject to do makeup on, he stayed still as you worked. You huffed gently when you couldn't get his eyeliner right, you tilted your head to try and look at him straight on but it didn't fully work.
"You guys are gonna make this weird," you said aloud before you moved to straddle Bob's waist. You ignored the whistles and yells as you leaned down to be face to face with Bob. "Sorry, I just want to make sure your eyeliner is even," you told him as your hair slowly fell around the two of you, effectively making a barrier that shielded you two from the others.
"I've definitely seen this video before," Jake said and you whipped your head up at him.
"Poke him in the eye extra hard for me," you told Natasha, your eyes blazing. Natasha obliged and you saw her drive the brush into his eye lid as she swiped it across. Satisfied, you looked back at Bob and smiled as you noticed his eyeliner was perfect. You moved off Bob and gave him back his glasses before he sat up again.
"Oh, no," Bradley slowly started scooting away from you but you launched yourself on him.
"Stop wiggling," you told him.
"You're not doing my makeup," Bradley argued.
"Hold him down," you announced and everyone who wasn't preoccupied went to hold him down, he was the last one without makeup done, or getting their makeup done.
✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧
"It won't come off!" Jake ran back into the living room after his shower, the eyeliner still in place.
"Did you use more than just water?" You didn't even look up at him.
"No," he confessed and you held up a single packet of a makeup wipe.
"Use this," you told him, your eyes staying on Bob's face. His eyeliner didn't come off in the shower either so you were wiping it off for him. "And done," you told him, placing his glasses back on his face for him.
Bob and you got comfortable on your couch as you waited for everyone else, you were watching more movies. You watched as everyone got comfortable in your living room again, the thought that you could get used to it living in your head.
✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧
You stood in the USS Midway Museum, it was quiet. Kids were in school and parents were at work, and you were staring at the door of the gift shop. After the news you got last night, you didn't want quiet. You were hoping for someone to walk in, it was starting to get too quiet for your liking.
Your prayers were answered in the only way you wished they weren't, the Dagger Squad walked in. You plopped down into the chair behind the counter and put your forehead on it before letting out a groan. It called the attention of the group and suddenly you were surrounding you.
"Get out from behind here before I call security on your ass," you mumbled, not even caring to pick your head up. You heard shuffling before you finally lifted your head. "Why are you here?"
"We got bored during lunch," Mickey told you and you slowly let out a breath.
"Go look around, leave me to rot," you pointed behind them and ignored the weird looks they gave you.
"Hey," Bradley leaned against the counter, the only one to not leave you.
"Hi," you replied as you noticed his gaze running your face.
"What's wrong?" He asked, his face twisting in confusion.
"Nothing," you lied but there was no reason to tell him.
"Tell me," he urged and you broke.
"Remember when I told you about Kelly and Clyde?" You asked, knowing you had told him about them.
"Yeah, your friends that have been together for years," Bradley nodded and you just started crying.
"They died last night, car accident, it," your voice broke off as you leaned heavily against the counter. You were too busy crying into the counter to notice the others start walking to you and Bradley signaling for them to back off.
Bradley jumped over the counter and pulled you to him, he knew you didn't want words. You didn't want pity, you just needed to be held. To be reminded that you weren't alone.
"Kelly was pregnant, Bradley. All she wanted was to be a mom," you sobbed, gripping the back of his shirt in a vice grip.
✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧
You stood in the house that held the ghosts of your two oldest friends. Everything was left to you, it was all too much. You wanted nothing more than to leave it be, to make it feel like they were still living there.
You knew you couldn't, you knew you needed to go through everything and see if there was anything you could send to some of their relatives. Even if they weren't talking before the death, even if they weren't happy about the marriage, they deserved something to remember the good times by.
Bradley stood behind you, leaning against the door frame. He was just offering you support, it was all you said was needed. You wanted Bob, but you felt like you were already worried about inconveniencing Bradley and couldn't do that to Bob.
✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧
The Dagger Squad was sitting in your apartment, including Pete. They figured out what happened after you had a breakdown at work following the joint funeral, Bradley had been called to come get you and they all followed him.
Now, everyone was insistent that you weren't left alone. Even when you wanted to be, Bradley stayed in your apartment. He was a constant these days, and if he couldn't be there, Bob was.
You hated to admit it, but you did enjoy always having someone around. Just like now, where there was a movie playing on the TV but everyone was too busy playing poker to pay attention. Three games have been played and you were about to win the fourth, it took a moment but you started to count the cards.
"I'm all in," you pushed the small stack of candy you had in front of you.
"Birdie, I'm sorry to break it to you, but I've got a full house," Jake placed his cards down, it was just the two of you still in. You made a sour face before placing yours down.
"Sorry, Jake," you grimaced as you showed your hand. "Royal flush," you breathed out, tapping the cards with a smile.
"I," Jake just stared at you as every celebrated your win.
"I quit," you tell everyone, taking your large stack of candy and pushed it into your lap.
"You quit? You just won!" Jake outraged and you just leaned back against the front of the couch. You passed one of the orange candies to Bob, knowing he loved them.
"Yeah, I have more than enough candy. I'm not going to get greedy," you told him, passing another orange candy to Bob.
You watched the game play, continuing to count the cards. It was harder to do without a hand but you were going based off Bob's. You smiled as you realized Jake was about to lose again but said nothing as you watched them play. You laughed as Jake overdramatized his outrage at losing again and noticed the way he smiled when everyone laughed at him.
✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧
"Ok, Birdie, how did you know exactly when to fold and when to keep going?" Bradley asked, everyone else turned to look at you and you sheepishly smiled.
"I can, uh, count cards," you admitted, turning to place your face into Bob's shoulder.
"You were counting cards?" Jake shouted and you pressed your face into Bob's shoulder even more.
"Don't be a sore loser, Bagman," Natasha laughed.
"You're not mad she was counting cards?" Jake shot back.
"We were playing for candy, her candy from her apartment that she bought with her money. She deserved to count those cards," Bob defended you and you smiled while slowly moving your head from his shoulder.
✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧
"Will you just fuck Bob and let us all stop suffering with watching you two do whatever you two do?" Bradley said and you sputtered over your words for a moment.
"I have no idea what you mean," you defended as you stood in the hangar. You were visiting them at work, you had brought them all lunch as a thank you for keeping you company over the past few weeks.
"Here, look," Bradley handed you his phone, displayed on the screen was a photo of you and Bob you had never seen before. It was taken at the Hard Deck from one of the many weeks you had joined them, you and Bob were pressed into each other's sides. You were laughing at something, your smile wide and your eyes sparkling. Bob, however, was looking directly at you, his smile was smaller than yours but he was giving you such a look of love.
Bradley took his phone back before you could say anything and swiped to a new photo. The photo was also taken at the Hard Deck with you two pressed into each other's sides; however, Bob was talking to Natasha and you were looking at him. Your expression mirrored the one Bob had in the last photo.
"When did you take those?" You asked quietly as you handed Bradley his phone back.
"Doesn't matter, what does matter, is the fact that I haven't seen two people look more in love since my parents," Bradley told you and you widened your eyes. You knew it was a hard subject for him to talk about. "You two hold the same love my parents had and, I may be a little selfish for saying this, but they could live on in you two," Bradley told you and your eyes watered slowly.
"Bradley," you whispered before pulling him into a hug. "I'll talk to him, I promise," you told him before pulling away.
✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧
You watched as everyone laughed and eat as you worked up the courage to talk to Bob. You caught Bradley's eye and he gave you a reassuring nod before you walked up to where Bob was sitting quietly.
"Can we talk?" You asked him as you walked up to him.
"Yeah, do you want to go outside?" Bob questioned and you nodded, you knew you wouldn't have the courage to talk in front of everyone. You followed Bob just outside the room and into the hallway, you two stepped off to the side so the others couldn't see you through the glass. "Is everything ok?"
"Yeah, just," you took a deep breath as you looked away from him. "Bradley showed me these photos taken at the Hard Deck, it put some things into perspective," you were messing with the end of your shirt as you spoke. "I like you, a lot, I may even love you," you mumbled, your eyes trained on Bob's shoes. A few quiet moments happened before you saw Bob take a step closer, the ends of his shoes touching yours.
"I'm in love with you and I have been for a while," Bob told you as he lifted your head up by a hand under your chin, you met his eyes and saw the look from the photo. "Can I kiss you?"
"Please," you told him, leaning closer to him. Your lips met in the middle and you smiled into it as you heard cheers. You pulled away and placed your face on Bob's chest.
"Finally!" You heard Jake yell the loudest and Bob wrapped his arms around you, your arms sneaking around him.
"Let me take you out on a real date," Bob whispered into your ear.
"Tonight?" You questioned.
"Tonight, I'll come pick you up," Bob confirmed and you pulled back just enough to kiss him again, both of you ignoring the hoots and hollers of the others.
➽──────────────❥
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muddyorbsblr · 1 year ago
Text
onyx pt1
See my full list of works here!
Summary: You're stuck in the Avengers Compound because of an injury from your last mission, and you come across an adorable and affectionate little kitten.
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: language (no i'm not sorry, Rogers); talks of explosions and injuries sustained from explosion [let me know if i missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: one-sided crushing (but is it really…?)
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An eerie silence served as your only company in the Avengers Compound the last few days, some of your teammates off to finish the HYDRA mission that left you injured while the others took time off to visit their families over the holidays. With the promise to keep their comms on in case they would be needed until the New Year.
Now all that remained in the Compound with you were a few junior agents that drew the ends of the short stick, Val, and Loki.
Sadly your teammate, friend, and occasional drinking buddy Val was out blissfully spreading holiday cheer throughout New York with her girlfriend.
And Loki? Well, the God of Mischief wasn't exactly on chummy terms with you. Didn't even so much as give you a passing glance when you were at mission briefings.
Which was a damn shame because what you would give just to get lost in those stormy ocean eyes.
You made your way to the pantry in the common room to replenish your stash of snacks, towing along a little wagon to help you on the way back. Every step had you feeling every square inch of bruising on the left side of your body that you got from being unlucky enough to be caught in the blast radius of an explosion at the HYDRA base you were trying to infiltrate with Shaun just a few days ago.
Your phone buzzed with a new message. "Speak of the devil," you muttered to yourself, seeing Xu's name on your screen as soon as you pulled up next to the elaborate barista setup, putting a few Lindor truffles in a small bag for your wagon. "Hey FRIDAY?"
"Yes, Agent Y/L/N?" the AI answered immediately.
"Could you make me a white chocolate mocha with peppermint while I raid the latest Costco delivery for uhh…supplies. Yeah, I'll go with that."
"Right away, Agent Y/L/N." The sound of the barista setup whirring to life filled the kitchen area as you checked on Shaun's message.
Thor just mentioned that he'll ask his brother to take a look at your injuries. Maybe get him to kiss it all better. He finished his text with a smirking emoji, along with some hand gestures that painted a less than family friendly picture, making you roll your eyes at the screen.
You recorded a voice memo for him. "You know that he'd need to actually be willing to look at me so that he could see the damage from the blast, right? And last I checked I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm Medusa reincarnated and I'll turn his Asgardian ass to stone."
You went on to the ridiculously stocked pantry to rummage the delivery that came just a few hours ago, trying to find a bag of Jalapeño Cheetos somewhere in the mix, when you heard a tiny meow from somewhere behind you. You looked to the ground to find a black and white munchkin cat looking up at you with wide blue eyes.
"Hi there, baby…" you cooed, surprised the adorable little creature hadn't hissed or scratched at you yet. Cats normally didn't take to you, which was a shame because you often found yourself fighting the urge to pick one up or stroke its head whenever you crossed paths with one during your errand runs. "How'd you get in here?"
The tiny kitten caught you by surprise with what it did next, walking up to your feet and proceeding to rub its cheek against your ankle, a little purr emanating from its small fluffy body. You decided to risk the hissing and scratching and bent down to pick it up, your heart melting once he placed his paws on your cheek and proceeded to nuzzle your face with his nose.
"Aren't you a complete darling." He settled into your arm as you carried him out of the pantry, a little whine escaping him when you placed him down on the counter. He stood on his hind legs and made grabby hands towards you, blue eyes wide and pleading for you to pick him back up. "Just a second, sweet baby, I'm just getting you something to drink."
You took out a tiny sauce dish and poured some cream into it, pushing it toward the kitten that responded with a slow blink and a meow before licking away at the rich liquid.
"I'm sure your owner's gonna crucify me for giving you that but I can't help spoiling little fur babies especially when they're as adorable as you are." You took a sip of the coffee FRIDAY had finished making before shouting out a question for her. "Hey FRIDAY, you have any clue who this little bub belongs to?"
It took a second for her to answer. "Negative, Agent Y/L/N. There is currently no other agent on the premises looking for their pet. I also see no collar on them and from a preliminary scan they do not seem to have a microchip on them."
Those words stopped the kitten from drinking to look up toward the ceiling and hiss at the source of the voice. He only relaxed once you started stroking his fur again, going back to drinking and letting out a few purrs along the way. "No owner, huh? Does that mean I can invoke Finders Keepers then?"
"It appears so, Agent Y/L/N. What would be your new companion's name?"
The kitten looked up at you, as if expecting your answer. You wondered briefly if he could actually understand what it was that you and FRIDAY were talking about. "How about Onyx? I know I know it's absolute garbage for originality to name a black cat after a black gemstone but--"
His eyes widened before he climbed up your arm, only stopping once he'd reached your shoulder to nuzzle at your neck again. "It seems he likes the name, Agent Y/L/N."
"Then it's settled." You placed a soft kiss on top of his head. "Hello there, Onyx."
You brought your new kitten back to your apartment, setting him down on your bed while you tried to take off your sweatshirt as gently as you could manage.
"Ah, fuck it," you hissed as you felt the bruising around your ribs, letting out a pained sound when you opted to whip the garment over your head as fast as you could instead. Your reflection revealed that the bruising on the left side of your torso was quickly becoming a frightening deep purple.
Onyx meowed from your bed, again standing on his back legs and making grabby hands at you, eyes wide with evident pain.
"What's wrong, little baby?" He placed his paws gently on your side when you made your way to him, pressing his nose to the skin near where your bruising began. "Oh don't you worry your pretty little head about those, sweetie. They'll heal…eventually."
He kept on pressing his face to the area, your heart melting for the tiny kitten even more realizing that he was pressing kisses to your wounds.
"You really are such a precious little bub, aren't you?" You picked your new kitten up, placing him on the armchair in your reading nook before setting an alarm for dinner in a few hours and settling into your bed. "Get some sleep, sweet baby Onyx. I'll see you in a few hours."
Your eyes had only closed for a few seconds before you heard another tiny meow followed by a soft thud, immediately making you sit up on the bed looking for the kitten. He'd already made his way to your bedside, standing on his back legs and reaching up trying to climb up the sheets.
"Alrighty then," you mumbled, picking him up and placing him on the pillow beside yours. You rolled over to lay on your right side to remove any pressure to your injuries the best you could, hovering your finger near Onyx's nose once you'd settled in. He leaned up and pressed his nose to your finger, paws kneading on his pillow. "Boop," you giggled. "Sweet dreams, baby."
Just as you'd closed your eyes to try catching an hour or two of rest before you had to eat again and take those pain meds that Banner prescribed you, your phone began to blare Immigrant Song way too loudly by your nightstand. There were only two contacts you gave that ringtone to and one of them was currently out with her girlfriend.
"Talk to me, Thunder," you muttered, groaning when your stretch to reach for your phone made your bruising smart a bit. "You all good over there?"
"Absolutely grand, Lady Y/N," the blond god's voice boomed from the other end. "I was just wondering if you could check on my brother, he refuses to answer his phone yet again."
"That's gonna be a hard pass from me, buddy. I've already been cut and bruised, I'm not too keen to add stabbed to that list. He's probably just practicing spells. Or out on a date." You winced at that last part, an irrational part of you flaring up with unwarranted jealousy at the thought of Loki out with just about anyone. "Just--I don't know, check up on him yourself when you get back. You can take a stab better than me anyways."
Thor sighed loudly, the low rumbling making Onyx step back from his pillow and start hissing at the phone. You stroked the top of his head to calm him down. "Very well then, Lady Y/N. Rest well. We're scheduled to return after nightfall."
"I'll have pizza here waiting for you guys. Bring your own mead." You clicked off and tried to get some sleep, having FRIDAY place an order for pizzas and wings for when the team gets back. Your new kitten padded his way over to you, resting his head on your outstretched arm and letting out a soft purr.
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The sound of the Quinjet coming back roused you from your nap, along with the feel of little paws on your arm and Onyx nuzzling your cheek.
"Looks like everyone's home," you mumbled, pressing a few kisses to the kitten's head before making your way out of bed. "Come on, little baby. Time to meet the team."
With a whole lot of discomfort and groaning, you slipped your sweatshirt back on before presenting your hand to Onyx and patting your shoulder, prompting the kitten to climb up your arm and perch himself on the spot, nuzzling his face behind your ear.
The team had already arrived and filled the common area when you made your way there, some of them helping themselves to the pizza. Barnes and Wilson walked in with coolers, probably filled with chilled bottles of beer inside.
"Hey, there she is!" Shaun exclaimed, pulling out a bottle of Pepsi before making his way over to you and pulling you into an embrace. "How's the healing go--Whoa there." He took a step back as Onyx hissed in his direction. "Where'd you come from, little guy?"
You shh'd the kitten, pressing kisses to his little cheek to calm him down. "It's okay, baby, Shaun is a friend. One of the good guys." You turned back to your mission partner. "Shaun, this is Onyx."
"Always thought you were a dog person, Babes," Natasha spoke up before taking your arm and walking you to the food. "We leave for one day and you become a cat lady. Where'd you even find the time to go to a shelter and get baby blue eyes over here?"
"I didn't, actually," you answered the master assassin. "I just went to the pantry and poof there he was, meowing at my feet. Like the cat distribution system mailed him to me by magic or something." He nuzzled your cheek again before starting to knead at your face.
"And he doesn't belong to anyone? You're sure?" Shaun spoke up, backing up immediately when he tried to pet your new kitten and getting hissed at. "Easy, kitty. I'm a friend, I'm not gonna hurt you." The martial artist turned back to you. "He wasn't collared? Or chipped?"
"Nope. FRIDAY scanned him and everything."
"You wanna think about getting him chipped?"
Onyx hissed again at the question before swishing his tail around to curtain your hair around him, his little body shaking on your shoulder. As if he was silently pleading for you to not take him out to have him chipped.
"Don't you worry, baby. I won't get you chipped, I wouldn't hurt you like that," you cooed, letting out a little giggle as he placed his paws on your cheeks and nuzzled your nose, giving the tip tiny licks. You were so focused on your cat's affections that the bellowing of Thor looking for his brother was a distant muffled noise in the background.
Until he got to where you were standing and his booming voice was impossible to ignore. "What an adorable little beast you have, with you, Lady Y/N." Onyx buried himself in the crook of your neck, shaking at the sound of Thor's voice.
"It's alright, Onyx. It's just Thunder, he may be all big and menacing on the outside but he's just a fluff ball on the inside. Come on, go say hi."
The blond Asgardian approached you, examining your new pet carefully before a knowing grin graced his bearded face. "Hello, Brother."
A chill went down your spine at his words. "What the fuck d'you just say, Blondie?"
He motioned toward the kitten on your shoulder. "This is the explanation for his lack of replies on his phone. His absence from his quarters. Lady Y/N, the little beast hiding himself in your hair…is my brother. That is Loki."
In your stupor, the only words you could manage to say were, "Bitch what?!"
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A/N: Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to the members of SAS, beloved besties, and fellow whores! I've had this idea doing a slow lurky crawl in the microwave that is my writing noggin for the last few months, and I'm so excited that I finally get to share it with y'all! Part 2 is coming in a few days, and then it's a coin toss on whether I'll be trying to end the year with crossing off some things on my writing todo list, or crossing off some titles from my Tumblr TBR 😳👀
everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover
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these-posts-arent-real · 1 year ago
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Oh StarClan... your dash has turned into warrior cats again.
#sorry <3 #this one has parts that are based off of that #one post rhats like "if there were cat-people #do you think calico tboys would try to dye over their patches"
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🔁 🍲 ex-thundrclan-kipper Follow reblogged
🍲 ex-thundrclan-kipper Follow
Me & Night (my mate)!!!
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🏞 trouttail-prefers-bass Follow
:O Kip's mate has finally been revealed!!! And his name is Night? Cooool.
🍲 ex-thundrclan-kipper Follow
Yeah haha. Technically his full name is Night Hunter, Bringer of Darkness, but it feels so weirdly formal calling him that, so I usually stick to just Night.
#life #kittypet #collar tw #cw collars #id in alt text
8,504 notes
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🛤 carnation-stem-02 Follow
I find it really funny when I see cats on here vaguepost about big blogs. Like cmon mouse-brain everyone here knows who you're talking about. Just say their name.
#this is about that one mommy blogger shitting on kipper the kittypet #btw #in case some of you couldnt tell #would be funny if it wasnt so stupid
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🔁 🐍xviper-the-fagx reblogged
🥬 rxttencatmint Follow
Hahaaaaa.... my mother found out ive been slowly dyeing my ginger patches black...
🪺 robbbinpaw Follow
Why would you do that??? Being a tortie is so cool, I wish I had ginger patches! They're so pretty, why do you want to get rid of them???
🥬 rxttencatmint Follow
Uhm. Gender dysphoria??
Like. I know cis male tortoiseshells exist but they're so rare that most cats take one look at me and go "oh, tortie, must be a girl" and that hurts.
🪺 robbbinpaw Follow
OH STARCLAN im so sorry Rot i wasnt even thinking about you being trans, I probably sounded really insensitive... I do understand what you're saying now.
Didn't even ask, how did your mom take it? Does she know why?
🥬 rxttencatmint Follow
You're fine <3 I get it. And no, she uh.. has no clue why I did it, she thinks I'm in my "emo phase" or something.
🐍 xviper-the-fagx
Uhh unrelated but what do you use to dye your fur?? Asking for... science...
#"science" meaning i am also a tortie tboy #well technically i'm calico but ykwim
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🔁 🦋 lalala-bluegaze Follow reblogged
🦢 gentlesong-momof17 Follow
I can't be the only one here who thinks it's unfair to allow kittypets on this site. Posting pictures of themselves and their mates inside of the twolegplace, influencing the young kits on this site to abandon their Clans... surely everyone else sees the problem with this as well.
This is Clanblr, not "Kittypetblr". This was specifically made as a space for Clan cats to connect, not for kittypets to push their lifestyle on us.
They're going to convince our kits to abandon their home and their belief in StarClan just for a more secure life.
#EXACTLY #I only recently found out ex-tc Kipper was a kittypet #it was so upsetting to me because i've always loved his wood-scratch art #to find out he's a clan-abandoner was so saddening
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🔁 🐍xviper-the-fagx reblogged
🌻 l1llyst3m Follow
The recent drama surrounding Kipper the Kittypet is sad and I hate that he's being bashed just for existing, but it's also incredibly stupid. I believe the cat who wrote the original post said something like, "it's CLANblr, not KITTYPETblr," and then something about belief in StarClan and I just... do you even realize how many Clanblr mods are non-Clan and/or don't believe in StarClan?
To name a few, @s-t-a-r-burning is former WindClan now rogue & openly an atheist, @theshadowhaseyes has been a kittypet his whole life, and @ssuunnrraayy-p has made zir entire blog about how ze travels from one Clan to another & doesnt consider zimself a Clan cat. Those are all mods. "It's clanblr no-" shut up. Just shut up.
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🧷 name-lists-by-theme
Theme: Water
as always, these work as either part of your name, but they are intended as the first part!
-Abyss
-Bay
-Bog
-Cove
-Creek
-Current
-Dew
-Fog
-Lagoon
-Lake
-Marsh
-Mist
-Pond
-Pool
-Puddle
-Rain
-Shallow
-Sleet
-Spray
-Splash
-Storm
-Stream
-Torrent
Keep reading
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🐱 berrrrry-o Follow
I think a lot of cats put way too much emphasis on the parts of the warrior code that dont matter, and forget the parts that do, like "feed elders and kits first" and "never neglect a kit in pain or danger"... I feel like those are significantly more important than "a warrior rejects the soft life of a kittypet," but maybe that's just me.
#berry yaps #I'm irritated by the kittypet drama going on on this site
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🔁 🛤 carnation-stem-02 Follow reblogged
🔲 sag3-chas3s-squirr3ls-deactivated
I feel like we don't talk enough about how SkyClan got chased out of their own territory during a time of crisis rather than all of the Clans trying to make room for everyone...
I mean, seriously. I know it's taught to all SkyClan apprentices, but I've talked to some of my friends from other Clans and they just. Didn't know that. They were never taught that the other Clans allowed SkyClan to be chased out due to territory loss.
🔲 sstep-xoxo-deactivated
:/ im pretty sure the whole thing about skclan being kicked out of their territory is just a conspiracy theory
🔲 sag3-chas3s-squirr3ls-deactivated
Imagine trying to tell a cat that they don't know their own Clan's history 💀
#ohh i finally found it again #that 1 fucker trying to say that skyclan's history is a "conspiracy theory"
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🌱 dirtdigger-23 Follow
:/ I do not like being stuck on the wrong site.
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ilium-ilia · 3 months ago
Text
In Limbo
simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader | mafia!au | masterlist
Chapter Seventeen: brick by brick
tw: none
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“So… we talking about Marco and Andrei, or…?”
Simon’s neck hurts. Painfully tense muscles plague him from spending the last handful of nights sleeping on the couch rather than in his bed. It’s a symptom of your skittish tendencies, he supposes. You’re still keeping an awkward distance from him, which he knows he can’t entirely blame you for. It’s a lot to soak in; his job, and the things he’s done, the things everyone has been hiding from you. You’re still talkative—at least, not any less than usual—but you’re hiding. Drawing away in order to make sense of this new mess that you’ve found yourself in. 
So, he gives you the bed—and your space. 
Rubbing at the back of his neck with rigid fingers, Simon swivels in the computer chair next to Johnny. If he’s lucky, he can work the knots out before they root deep enough to form a migraine. Tight tendons pull at the base of his skull, and they don’t seem to want to relent. The dim incandescence of the security room helps stave off the beast, but the question posed to him only pokes the bear. 
“What’s there to talk about?” Simon’s playing dumb. Even the mere thought of Marco is enough to make his brain throb uncomfortably within the confines of his skull. He’d rather snuff this conversation out before it ignites. 
“Aye, I see,” Johnny hums. He eyes the handful of monitors in front of him before spinning around in his chair. “So, we’re pretending I never saw anything on the cams?” 
“Would appreciate it,” Simon huffs. His hand falls away from his neck as he tilts his head to either side. There’s a sharp click! that accompanies the movement, followed by a sigh. “Don’t need this gettin’ out, yeah? I promised her that I’d keep it between us.” 
Johnny nods. “So, I suppose you wanna keep Price in the dark too?” 
The reply that burns the tip of Simon’s tongue hardly seems to come from a sound mind. Lie to John Price? The John Price? As if his family hasn’t been known for snuffing out undesirables for generations—for keeping the streets safe for those who would otherwise be crushed under steel toed boots? The same boot you’re currently pinned under? He thinks back to the other day, and the tears that pooled in your eyes; the fracturing of your voice as you all but begged him not to tell John. 
Or worse—Aelin. 
How did his allegiance switch so abruptly? So violently that an omission of truth suddenly comes easy if he does it for you? 
“Don’t mention it to anyone. Price included,” Simon confirms. 
Johnny is a good man. An honest one. So much so that his discomfort manifests in the minute clenching of his jaw at the thought of telling such a lie. “Is she safe at least?” 
Safe. Simon thinks about it. You. curled up in his bed wearing nothing but a plain t-shirt, burrowed beneath heaps of blankets. You’ve been sleeping non-stop lately, like you’ve got a deficit you’re attempting to catch up on. Though you owe a debt to Marco, you owe a larger debt to yourself and your abused body and mind. He lets you curl up like a cat and nap the days and nights away, because if you’re comfortable enough to sleep around him, then that must mean something. 
Something good. 
“She’s stayin’ with me,” Simon shares. “Probably will be for a while.” 
“Ah.” Johnny’s chair squeaks as he leans back. “So… you two official, then?”
Simon pauses, head tilting to the side. “You’re a funny man.” 
A cheeky remark flits across Johnny’s tongue, but the words are lost on Simon’s ears. His phone buzzes in the pocket of his jeans, and his heart skips a beat. There’s no hesitation in retrieving his phone and allowing the screen to illuminate his face with a text message from you. 
i’m learning new tricks (: 
Your message is quickly followed by a picture. You’ve captured an image of the string you always play cat’s cradle with, laid out flat on the coffee table in his living room. It’s in a design he doesn’t recognize. The form is fuzzy without fingers holding it taut, but he’s still able to make out the lattice-like rectangle that swirls in the photo. 
it looks better when i’m actually holding it. fun to do!
Simon tries to hide his smile. 
Looks great sweetheart. 
A playful scoff pulls Simon’s attention away from his phone. He looks up just in time to catch the tail end of Johnny’s rolling eyes before he twists his chair back around to look at the monitors. 
“Ay, right. I’m the funny one,” he mutters, sarcasm dripping from his words. 
Another message from you has him ignoring the man. 
it’s called jacob’s ladder
Simon has to blink several times in order to clear his vision. He rereads your message, convinced he’s seeing it wrong, but nothing changes. Each word is still the same—all the way down to the name. 
Didn’t know they had string versions of that. 
It’s impossible for him to hide his mirth. That sly chuckle that seeps from his chest as he stares at the screen, waiting for your response. Simon is a simple man. He likes his jokes, no matter how debauched they are. 
i don’t get it
Somehow, he’s not surprised. His fingers hover over the screen as he contemplates his answer. 
I’ll tell you when you’re older. 
Muffled music swells to a crescendo, only to quickly diminish into a hush as the door swings open and closed again. John Price enters the room with broad shoulders swaying, but it’s impossible for him to hide his exhaustion. He’s jetlagged. Enervation gnaws at the heels of his feet as he strides into the room, bags pulling at his eyes. Still, he manages a smile as Johnny swivels around to greet the boss. 
“Evening boys.” Despite his weariness, his voice is as gruff and sonorous as usual.
“Missed you, boss,” Johnny teases. “How was your holiday?” 
“Warm,” John chuckles. 
“Looks like you got a bit of color, too,” Simon notes. 
Laughing, John rubs the tip of his rosy nose. He pretends not to notice the slight peeling of his skin. “Like I said; warm. Warm, sunny, and a hell of a lot better than London in December.” 
For a short moment, his eyes flicker to the rows of monitors behind Johnny. Black and white footage of clubbers dancing illuminate the tight space of the room. The building is packed, almost alarmingly so, full to the brim of tired uni students with nothing better to do over their break as they dance the night away as the New Year approaches. 
“And you boys? Got some good R&R, I hope,” John asks, arms crossing over his chest. 
“Oh, you know me,” Johnny sighs. His fingers buzz, tapping his knees like he’d rather be clacking away at a keyboard than having this conversation. 
“Oh, I do,” John chuckles. “No broken nose this year though, yeah?” 
“Not yet,” he grins. 
“Of course. And you, Simon?” 
His phone buzzes just as the attention is turned on him, but he doesn’t dare look down at his screen. Instead, he nods as he adjusts himself on the faux plastic leather seats of the office hair. 
“Yeah. Good. Manchester was cold as hell, but we survived,” he explains cooly. 
“Chip like it?” John continues. 
“Her and Joey got along well,” Simon humors. 
“And your brother? Doing well?” 
He nods. “Happiest I’ve ever seen ‘im.” 
This feels like an interrogation. An uncomfortable insight into his life that he usually doesn’t offer up willingly. For a moment, Simon’s guilty conscience gets the better of him—has him feeling as thin as cellophane, and he nearly melts under the heat until he realizes John’s looking at him the same way he did all those years ago in that pool house.  Hidden away in the locker room, offering him a job. Earnest and amicable. 
This is the furthest thing from an interrogation. It’s rapport building. This is the man who has sent him to break jaws to keep children safe and spill blood over the smallest of cuts on women. John’s known you much longer than Simon has, and he’s simply checking in on the very man he helped save all those years ago. Muscles melting, Simon allows himself to take a proper breath. 
“Glad to hear he’s keeping clean,” John praises. “Either of you heard from Kyle?” 
Johnny chuckles. “Nothin’ but moaning and groaning. Still hungover from his night out with Lucy. Fucking lightweight.” 
“Surprised they gave her Christmas off,” John muses. “Last I remember, the hospital stiffed her with having to work every holiday, and then some.” 
Halfway through his sentence, John’s phone begins to buzz. Loud, obnoxious, incessant—a phone call. His sigh is heavy and tense as he retrieves the item from his pocket. His thumb nearly goes to ignore it until he reads the ID at the top of the screen. 
“Wife calling you home?” Johnny teases. 
“We’ll see,” he chuckles. 
His laughter dies in his throat the moment he answers the call and he hears Aelin sobbing on the other end. 
The world continues to rage around them as the room falls into silence. Aelin’s wailing cuts through the air like ice, bouncing off the walls like her voice is nothing more than a toy to be tossed around. Johnny and Simon share a look—wide eyes framed by furrowed brows—while John attempts to calm her. His head dips as his free hand rubs at the back of his neck; a stress response Simon has rarely seen in the man. 
There are a few words that cut through the static of the call, each of them framed by blood curdling cries: 
John—please—I can’t do this—not again—I can’t—
There’s an attempt made at diffusing the situation. Of gently cooing into the phone, of asking what’s wrong, but nothing calms her. It’s all tears and painful laments that he can’t seem to quell coupled with sharp hyperventilation. John doesn’t bother to give either of the boys a second glance before he’s ducking back out the door. Music swells, then quickly dies. Neither of them speak. They just sit in their chairs with Aelin’s cries echoing in their minds. 
“The last time I heard her cry like that was when her ex-fiance cheated on her,” Johnny mumbles to himself. He pauses as he looks at Simon—he’s still staring at the door. “Think everything’s alright?” 
“Yeah,�� Simon responds after a pause. “If not, we’ll know soon.” 
His tone is even—strong and unwavering—but the truth is, Simon hates the sound of crying. It makes his teeth ache as if he’s scraped his fingernails on a chalkboard. He’s reminded of his mother. Even after all these years, her screams haunt him as she braces for the unforgiving impact of a closed fist against her face. He sees her crumpled form on the kitchen floor, a trembling hand covering her eye. 
It reminds him of himself as a child. Pathetic pules and sputtering echoing off the bathroom walls as he begs and screams. High pitched and prepubescent. Water sloshing. Feet kicking. His father always hated the sound of him—every sniffle, every blubber, every cough—and he eventually grew to hate it too until even the sound of his own breathing infuriated him. 
Worst of all, it reminds him of you. In the midst of your trashed apartment, hardly able to get a full breath in, tears streaming down your face—terrified. Prattling. Rambling. Hit with an unforgiving concoction of grief and fear; his stomach churns at the mere memory of you trembling against him. 
Pushing it out of his mind, Simon brings his attention back to his phone—back to you. Everything melts away—Aelin’s cries, the music pounding just beyond the door—and for a moment it’s just him and the notification flashing on his screen. 
i just googled it. the ribbon and woodblock toy, right? jacob’s ladder? i forgot those existed haha
It’s past three in the morning by the time he gets home. You’ve left the kitchen light on for him. He doesn’t know why, but that makes his heart wrench. 
You’re the first thing he checks on. He doesn’t even bother to take his shoes off at the door. The very moment the deadbolt latches behind him, he’s peeking into the bedroom through the gap in the door. Snug, you’re buried under his comforter, head hardly visible as you burrow your face into the pillow. For a moment, he stands there and watches you with nothing but a sliver of light seeping through the doorway to illuminate you. 
Safe. Comfortable. Sleeping. 
Retreating away from the door, Simon hides himself away in the living room. He’s forgotten to lay out clothes to change into, and he curses the idea of sleeping in his jeans as he sinks into the couch, but he’d rather that than disturb your sleep. The cushions are flattened. Morphed into the shape of his body after a near week of using it as a makeshift bed. A jolt of electricity shoots through his neck as if his body is already anticipating the ache. 
He tosses his arm over the back of the couch as he mindlessly flips through programs on the television. Usually, he’s able to sleep without white noise, but these days it’s hard to get any rest at all. There’s money to save up, debts to pay. A sharp pang echoes throughout his knuckles. It throbs like a heart quivering with memory, and he attempts to quell it by flexing his fingers. It’s a symptom of a larger beast. Of something that demands blood—thirsty for penance. 
An eye for an eye. 
He’s satiated this type of reprobate before, and he’ll do it again in due time. 
Anything for you. 
A nature documentary is Simon’s choice of white noise for the night. Auburn fur blurs on the screen as a red fox bounds along the environs of lush woodlands. Its thin snout pokes up in the air where a wet nose dances with short and sharp inhales. Simon smiles as the narrator—a man with an overly posh accent—drones on about the critter’s life. 
As he goes to place the remote on the coffee table, he spots a piece of string. It’s tied in a circle, just about as long as his forearm. Worn fibers fray with years of use, yet it still holds strong—well loved. Curious, he picks it up. He thinks about the pictures you sent him that evening, and how proud you were of the new trick you learned. 
How your first instinct was to tell him about it. 
Careful fingers wrap the string around his own hands as he sets up a round of cat’s cradle. It’s easy enough—a simple slip of his middle fingers—but he doesn’t know how to continue. Hazy memories attempt to surface in his mind as he thinks of your hands. How your fingers moved and danced to manipulate the string so effortlessly. Practiced to the point you can do it without proper thought.
He tries to move his thumbs. It’s what he recalls you doing, anyway. Weave them between thin lines of string until it feels firm and secure. 
When he drops his pinkies, he’s left with nothing but a knot. 
“Si?”
He doesn’t hear you approach—doesn’t hear the squeak of the bedroom door or the creak of the floorboards—you appear like an angel swathed in the light of the TV. Freshly woken and rubbing your eyes, he wants to lay you down. Needs to pull thick blankets over your body and let you get the rest you deserve. It’s an odd urge to feel; one he doesn’t quite understand. Instead, he pulls the string off of his fingers and places it back on the table where he found it. 
“Did I wake you?” he asks. 
Your prostration temporarily clouds your mind, forcing your brows to furrow at his question. He watches as you mull his words over in your mind, then shake your head. 
“No.” The fox on screen begins to cry out some melancholic tune neither of you can decipher, and still your eyes don’t leave Simon. You stare at him for so long he begins to question the state of your consciousness. “Will you come to bed with me?” 
Simon has to bite his tongue to keep his response from spewing out of his mouth too quickly. His hands reach for the remote where he kills power to the TV. A stillness stretches between the two of you—you swear you can hear him breathe. 
“Course.” 
Eager to get out of his jeans, Simon shucks them off in favor of sweatpants while you mindlessly climb back into bed. He’s hardly able to settle in next to you before you’re clamoring for him. Hands paw at his chest as you nuzzle against his side—he would chuckle if it didn’t make his heart swell to the point of bursting. Arm wrapped around you, he holds you close as he drags the blankets up where he tucks them underneath your chin. 
As you mumble quiet goodnights to one another, and your body goes still, Simon can’t help but think he could die like this. With you in his arms. With you here at his house leaving lights on for him to come home to. Sending him texts while he’s at work. Pictures of things you’re proud of; of things that make you happy. Perhaps that’s what he’s been missing all these years—someone to take care of. 
Or, maybe it’s just you. God, he could die like this—
—but really, he’d rather live like this. 
When morning dawns, and pale light seeps through the curtains, Simon is awoken by gentle fingers. Convinced he’s dreaming, he revels in the feeling. Nails carefully ghost the line of stubble on his jaw, working up, up, up into his hair, weaving between the short strands and rubbing into his scalp. He’s reminded of the way his mother used to wash him up as a child. Too scared to fit into the tub; leaning over the side instead as she rinses his hair clean of suds. 
Refusing to stir, he lays there for a while longer. It would be a lie to say he hasn’t had an appetency for this; for you. Your warmth against his side and your head on his chest, just like things were back in Manchester. That strange longing still has a hold on him. This strange affliction that not even sleep can shake off. It haunts him. Curls up tight at the side of his feet and sits with him like a cat that’s suddenly decided that his body is its home now. 
“You’re awake,” you note. 
He allows his eyes to flutter open when you speak, and his chest expands with a tired sigh. “Am I?” 
Movement ceasing, your fingers leave his hair and Simon almost reaches for you to put them back. “Your heartbeat changed,” you explain. 
Even the mere mention of it has his heart racing. You’ve been listening to it for quite some time this morning, counting each slow and steady beat as it drums against your cheek. It quickened the moment you started to caress the side of his face, lulling him back into the waking world. For a moment, it made you feel powerful; being able to change the beating heart of another person. 
“What time is it?” Simon asks. You feel his legs shift, long limbs stretching the morning ache out. 
“Dunno,” you admit. “Early.” 
“You’re not a very good watch,” he playfully grumbles. 
“Tick tock.” Things are quiet for a moment as you adjust yourself, head nuzzling further against his ribs as if you won’t be happy until you’re burrowed inside of his chest. “Were you playing with my string last night?” 
He’s glad you can’t see the odd smirk on his lips. “Was tryin’ to figure out how you play cat’s cradle by yourself.” 
You hum. “I meant what I said, you know. About teaching you.” 
Your words set off a reaction within him consisting of flexing arms and a fluttering heart. He pulls you closer, and he swears his breathing nearly ceases when he feels you melt into him. 
“Think I’d just like to lay here for now, sweetheart.”
So you do. Together. Your body lays heavy on the mattress as it holds you in place while Simon’s warmth radiates into your bones until you’re sure you’ll dissolve. You stay there laying next to him until the sun’s light transforms from a pale yellow to a glorious gold. Manna hangs heavy in the air as Simon’s thumb begins to gently caress the side of your waist—absentmindedly and sweet. 
This quiet moment ends by the fault of your stomach. It churns and protests with a pathetic growl, and despite how muted it is, Simon still hears it. Staying as still as humanly possible, you pray he doesn’t mention it—that he can allow himself to rest for just a bit longer—but of course, he stirs. 
Simon cradles your head with his palm as he moves you to the side, torso leaving the bed as he sits up, and you whine. It’s an unfamiliar sound that leaves your lips; this pathetic whimpering. It’s enough to get him to pause for a moment, body twisting as he gives you his full attention. He rests your head down on the mattress but he doesn’t retract his hand. 
“What?” he questions.
There’s a tight pull at the corner of his lips, and you’re suddenly aware of just how close he is. Hovering over you, fingers pressed into the back of your skull, his eyes locked on yours. Staring up at him, your tongue goes dry as you try to think of a response. How are you supposed to tell him he’s the first comfort you’ve felt that didn’t suffocate you? That removing yourself from him is like tearing a bandaid from your skin—epidermis removing with it? 
“Don’t go.” It’s hardly above a whisper. A susurrus that almost fails to drift through the air. 
He chuckles and it’s deep. His voice in the morning is always rough. “Gotta eat at some point today.” 
But he doesn’t move. 
Simon’s looking at you. Really looking at you. Not just into your eyes, but he’s soaking up the way the light filters through your eyelashes and the pressure indents on your cheek from sleeping. You find yourself doing the same thing; tracing every single faded scar that decorates his face and the subtle curve of his nose. His lips press together just as his thumb brushes along the apple of your cheek. You’re frozen. Forever caught in this moment. 
“Gorgeous.” 
The word leaves Simon’s lips without permission, but he doesn’t retract it. He isn’t ashamed of it, either. He refuses to play it off and be coy—he continues to caress your cheek, and you wonder if he can feel the heat brewing inside of you. Firing synapses, blood superheating to the point of sublimation—can he feel it? The way you crumble? How you melt beneath his touch? 
They say Rome was destroyed within a single day, but you know that’s not the case. Like all things, its destruction was systematic. Timed and viscerally demanded. Rome was destroyed the same way all things are—brick by brick. 
Simon takes you apart the same way with this kiss—brick by aching brick. His lips press against yours, setting you ablaze as if he’s lighting you for your immolation. Like he’s trying to burn you away until you’re nothing but ash and cinder. It’s heavy, but soft. A weight so unfamiliar yet it feels like home. It’s simple. Blithe. He neither gives nor takes with this kiss; he only speaks. 
You try to speak back as your lips perk against his, jaws gently moving in sync. It’s an insurmountable task. How are you supposed to pour out all the words you wish to speak into this single union? How can it be possible to convey to him that this is the first kiss that has not ripped you to shreds? How do you explain that you’re trembling out of ardor instead of fear? 
For once, love doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t hurt, and it tastes like stale cigarettes. 
Simon’s shaped your lips into a shy smile by the time he pulls away. Still hovering over you, he brushes a kiss against your forehead. 
“Breakfast?” he asks, muttering the word into your skin. 
He kisses you, and instead of talking about money—like you’re so painfully used to—he speaks of food. Of sharing a quiet moment with you. You don’t know why, but you want to cry. The pressure builds behind your eyes, but instead of crying, you laugh.
For once, everything is quiet. There is nothing but Simon’s soft breath against your skin, and the pounding of your own heart. Your fingers do not twitch. They do not yearn for string. 
Only for him. 
“Yeah,” you smile. “Breakfast sounds good.”
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blingblong55 · 1 year ago
Text
Needy- John Price NSFW
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Photo credits: @ave661 (left)
Based on a request:
Blingy!! *grabs shoulder* BLINGY!!! *shows tiktok* (https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNkkXVpP/) HELP ME BLINGY. H E L P M E. Reader walking in on Price masturbating to her and then it becomes a cat-and-mouse chase ksbashskdbwkbsjs ---- F!Reader, smut, 18+, MDNI, oral!sex ----
A/N: somewhat short but smutty nonetheless
You were out with your friends all day, left early morning and haven't been back home since. Well, in that time of you being away, John cleaned around the home and found a set of lingerie that he bought you many days ago, he smiled at the memory from when he took it off you, made you his that whole night and how you screamed his name. Then he felt it, his jeans getting tighter, the dirty ideas coming to his head and his arousal barely letting him think straight. He sat down on the sofa, pulled his phone out and looked through the folder of pictures and videos he had of you, all he took or that you sent. The lewd images doing his growing boner no good. 
John unzips his jeans, phone in his right hand, he begins to slowly stroke his cock, swiping between videos, your body looking so good on camera. Your tits, bouncing perfectly for the camera, he groans, his head thrown back. "Fuuckk...fuck lovie," he moans but doesn't stop stroking himself. "John?" Your soft voice filled with confusion interrupts him and he quickly covers himself like a teenager being caught. "h-hi my love,...uh..how was it?" He stands up and kisses your cheek, his phone still playing the video which he quickly and embarrassingly shuts down. Nervous laughter escapes his lips. 
"Uh..great, it – uhm were you, wanking off?" 
"N-no– well yes, I...was," he hides your panties in his back pocket. 
You nod and walk away, leaving him confused and still aroused. "Love, come here, I need help," his voice was low but still whiny. You smirk and ignore his plea. He adjusts his jeans and walks to you, he knew your game but had no intention of playing it. "I found that centrepiece for the table I was looking for," you say, washing the piece. "Love, c'mon, don't be like this," he hugs you from behind, his voice low and filled with need. 
"Be like what? I'm just excited I finally found something for the dinner table." You play coy and smirk, he sees that reflection on the window and sighs. "Tsk tsk, don't play hard to get, please my love," his voice lower, lips by your ear as he begs. "Hard to get? John, I'm washing this. I haven't a clue what you're talking about." you chuckle as you feel him nibble on the soft skin of your neck. 
The longer you ignore his need, the more his erection grows. "That's it, I can't take it," he picks you up and takes you to the bedroom, sitting down and forcing you on your knees. "Now, be a good little wife and please me," he undoes his jeans, his fat cock soon in his hand as he slaps it on your face. "John~" you whisper but before you can say much, he gives you that look. You smile and lick his tip, teasing his swollen member slowly and with a look of thirst. 
"R/N," he moans, his head thrown back, John's hands fist your hair and he pushes your head further on his cock. "Fuck, just like that, yes...oh fuck–baby," his pants mixed with moans feed your thirst. The nose filled with his musky scent, your ears hearing the melody his throat letting out and his body radiating heat. Your hands on his thighs for support as you give him head. His cock is so fat you keep gagging, creating tear stains on your soft face. He wipes your tears as you look up at him, his cock filling your greedy mouth full, your brows furrowed, waiting for the usual forehead kiss. 
From your peripheral you watch the panties he shoved earlier fall, you smirk up at him. He, unaware cups your face and praises you. "That's it, keep going. That's my good girl," he grunts, biting his lower lip and pushing your head deeper. You play with his heavy balls, leading him to moan and whimper, "fuck, r/n, keep going, just..like that– fuck!" he whimpers as he feels himself cum inside your pretty mouth. "Swallow, love," he whispers and caresses your face as he continues to paint your mouth with his sticky cum. 
After swallowing, he leans forward and kisses you, pushing you to the bed and cuddling with you. "I promise to be gentle tonight," he whispers before kissing your forehead once more. You nod and kiss him once more. 
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@anonymuslydumb @unicorngirly1 @liyanahelena @under-the-dirt @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @greatstormcat @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @frizzseaberries @idklols @katybaby00 @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @juneonhoth @jinxxangel13. @strangepuppynightmare @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @coralwitchdreamland
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hughiecampbelle · 9 months ago
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The Boys Preference: Being Becca and Butchers Child
Requested: Firstly HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL!!!!!! ゚+.ヽ(≧▽≦)ノ.+゚. Secondly, could u write like some headcanon about being Butcher's child (like who is two years older than Ryan) and how other members from the boys (+ maybe Soldier boy, cause of season 3 and how he would interact with them :3) - anon
A/N: Thank you my love!!! In the headcanon I made reader 10+ years older so they'd be at least 18 by the time they found out about Becca and Ryan, I hope you don't mind!! That way they can be part of The Boys and grow up with them, if that makes sense? I also had a very similar request of a headcanon so I'm basing it off that so there's some background :) I love this request!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜
Headcanon Pt. 1 / Headcanon Pt. 2
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Butcher knew he couldn't take care of you. He was getting drunk every night, picking fights at bars, searching the city for your mom. Your perfect grades were slipping, you were getting into fights at school, you were emulating him. He knew how dangerous that was. First with your Aunt, then your Great Aunt, until you tracked him down all these years later. He still has a picture of you in his wallet, a baby picture that's creased and faded. You and Becca. You've grown up since then, though. And you're angry. He insist you go back to Judy, pretend you never saw or heard what you did, but you refuse. You want to pick a fight with him. You want to yell and scream and get out eight years worth of grief. He understands where you're coming from, he does. He never wanted to be like his father and yet, in so many ways, that's exactly who he was. Your relationship will never be what it is. That's not possible anymore. You have to learn to deal with one another now, in the present, instead of the happy kid you used to be, instead of the dad he used to be. It hurts you both to think about the past, who you could have been instead of who you are.
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Hughie isn't really sure what to do with you. There's no doubt you're Butcher's kid. He's still relatively new to the team, so he just assumed this was something else Butcher hadn't shared with him. When he realizes no one knew about your existence, he's shocked. You, like your father, gravitate towards Hughie for reasons you can't put into words. You'll let him sit next to you when you're watching TV and maybe even talk to him if you're in the right mood. You don't shoot daggers at him like you try with everyone else. Similar to a cat, he's someone you can stand to be around. He comes to your defense a lot, especially when you stumble in drunk and pass out for the day. He's sure if any of them had been raised by Butcher, or at least the outside relatives, they would have turned out exactly like you. He can't blame you for being angry, or pissed, or hurt. He can see the hurt better than anyone else no matter how much you try to hide it. He thinks you just need some time and empathy to get straightened out. The least they can do is offer that, right?
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Annie has no idea what to do with you. She tried smiling and talking to you, but you didn't want anything to do with her. She reminds you too much of your Aunt. She always said you should be happier, bubblier, that you were so smiley as a kid. You couldn't live in the past like her, with her. Too much had changed. Hughie assures her it's nothing against her, you're just getting used to things. She thinks it's sweet how you're attracted to Hughie. He's the only one you mildly respect and even, once in a blue moon, listens to. She doesn't take it too personally considering you're ready to rip your fathers head off. It could be a lot worse. Over time you see that Annie and Hughie are together and that definitely earns her some points. Annie can't imagine what your life must have looked like, all those years mourning your mother and father, all those years spent with relatives just doing their best. She understood why you were so angry all the time, so cagey and spiky. She doesn't hold it against you.
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M.M. feels conflicted. Betrayed isn't the right word, but it's the closest thing he can come up with. He never 100% trusted Butcher. He was always going behind everyone's backs, doing what he wanted despite the good of the team, etc. He was destructive, combative, and spiteful. But, he thought they knew each other better than that. When he met you he couldn't deny you were Butcher's. Your mannerisms, the crazed look in your eye when you were upset, it all matched your father. He can't help but see you like how he sees Janine, even if you're much older: a victim of Vought. A generational curse. You're stubborn, and angry, and distant all because of what's been done to you, all because of Homelander. If your mom had been around, if Homelander had never done what he'd done, you'd still have your perfect family. He feels this need to protect you the same way he does with your father, even if you both fight him on it, even if you don't want or deserve it. He can't help it.
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Frenchie doesn't trust you the same way he doesn't trust your father. He especially doesn't like that you and Kimiko are so close. She doesn't tell him anything about your conversations, knowing it would completely break your trust if she did. He believes Butcher would hide something as big and important as a child. He knows what your family can be like. Lying, drunken, selfish, vengeful. You're only a few of those things, not that he can tell the difference. You know Frenchie isn't your biggest fan, so you love messing with him, teasing him, rubbing it in his face that you and Kimiko are close. Similar to your father, Frenchie thinks this isn't the kind of place for you. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into. M.M. might feel fatherly towards you, but Frenchie sees you as a Mini Butcher, just another handful no one on the team can deal with. You yell and scream and fight and drink. That proves to him you're still a child despite it all.
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Kimiko adores you. Despite the difference in circumstances, she sees a lot of herself in you. Ripped from your family, angry and hostile and doing everything in your power not to get hurt again. Besides Hughie, you'd warm up to her second. You're actually incredibly smart despite never applying yourself and pick up the signs pretty quickly. Whatever you can't sign, you write to her, wanting your conversations to stay secret. You show her the pictures of your mom that you kept all these years, telling her all about the good times you had before she disappeared. When you see Butcher you instantly grow hostile, angry all over again, and the person she saw, the person she was just talking to who was kind, and thoughtful, and smart totally disappears. When you blast your angry music she never minds. In fact, she quite likes it, adding it to her own playlist. She doesn't look at you like you need fixing or, worse, need to get out of here.
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Bonus! Homelander always knew about you. Becca was more than willing to talk about you and Billy to co-workers. He even remembers taking that picture with you that one Christmas. He's kept an eye on you through the years, but you never seemed like the vengeful type. You never knew what happened after your father abandoned you. He does, however, use it as leverage against Becca. Remember the kid you left behind? Seems like she's got favorites. Becca agonizes over leaving you, but she was caught between a rock and a hard place. He uses you to keep her there, in her place. He gives her updates, usually to make her feel bad. You're kid drinks way too much, did you know that? Of course you didn't. He loves to tell her that Butcher abandoned you all those years ago. He loves to see that it absolutely kills her. He's not worried about you coming after him. You've got to work through your issues before you get to him and therapy for a lifetime couldn't get you an Butcher on the same page.
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Bonus! Soldier Boy would actually get along with you. I think you'd have a Worst Dad Competition and though you're close, you definitely think you win. You two share a drink and you tell him all about your dear old dad. "No wonder you turned out like this." Ben says, pouring you more. Hughie urges you to slow down, but you have a high tolerance. Ben, to piss of Butcher, will always take your side in arguments and uses what you told him against him. "You dumped them off and never looked back. Now you're parenting?" Butcher absolutely hates it. You tell him about your mom, how much she loved you, how she was killed. You don't mention Ryan though, knowing Ben's go to answer would be to seek revenge. You have a lot of complicated feelings around your brother, but you still have a burning Hatred for Homelander. You make Ben promise he'll kill him. He does, even if it means killing his son. You two bond really fast. Neither Hughie nor Butcher trusts it or him, but you do.
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storiesforallfandoms · 8 months ago
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icdiwabh ~ joseph quinn
word count: 3688
request?: no
description: after finding out that her recently broken up with ex is already in a new relationship, she puts on a happy face for the public. but she can't do the same with him
pairing: joseph quinn x female!reader
warnings: swearing, angsty angst, rpf, use of y/n
based on this song
masterlist (one, two, three)
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To give her credit, my best friend and guitarist, Chloe, tried her best to keep me from looking at my phone before our show. And it was working. I didn't even think anything of it, just that we were goofing off before a show as usual.
And then my phone chimed with a text from my mom. She always sent me a good luck text before a show. I unlocked my phone to respond, then saw that my social media notifications were blowing up more than usual.
I shouldn't have looked, but you know what they say about curiosity and the cat.
I opened Twitter to see I was being mentioned a lot. Mainly in replies to other tweets, and most of the tweets were along the lines of, "What happened to @(Y/U/N)?" I clicked on one to see what that context was, and was brought to a tweet from Pop Crave.
"Joseph Quinn photographed on a date with Doja Cat," followed by various photos of my ex-boyfriend getting cozy with another woman.
I felt my heart drop and break into millions of pieces.
I know what you're thinking: why would seeing my ex moving on hurt so much? It's not like we were together. We were both free to see whoever we wanted now. But there were a few reasons this news was upsetting; for one, we had only broken up three months ago, which apparently is around the time when these pictures were taken. Second, Joseph had broken up with me due to the fact that I was a singer, which meant we didn't get to spend as much time together as either of us would've wanted. I understood at the time. I mean, of course the break up still hurt, but I kind of knew it was coming when things between us had felt different the last month or so of our relationship.
Then there was the biggest reason: Doja was the woman he told me not to worry about.
I am not joking.
Joseph and I were together when the whole Doja versus Noah stuff happened online. We both laughed about it at the time, and i had jokingly asked Joseph, "Should I worry about you getting stolen away by Doja Cat?" He had wrapped me in his arms, kissed me, and said of course not.
Obviously, that had changed.
Chloe found me just as the tears started to fall. She was quick to hug me and whisper comforting words.
"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry," she said. "But we have to get to the stage."
Performing was the last thing on my mind, but I had thousands of fans waiting for me. I couldn't let them down just because I was heartbroken.
I followed Chloe to take my place. I wiped the tears from my eyes, hoping my face wasn't too red or puffy. Our backstage crew passed me my microphone as the countdown for the show to start started in my earpiece. I took a deep, calming breath, pushing everything out of my mind. As the blinding stage lights hit me, I put on my best show smile.
~~~~~~
The next few weeks were tough. I had to go on a full social media hiatus, meaning I deleted all social media apps from my phone to keep myself from seeing any more updates on Joseph and Doja. Chloe took up posting on my accounts so no one suspected anything. We had already decided the best course of action was to ignore the questions and comments, and to pretend like the news didn't even hurt me.
But it did. It hurt me more than any words could ever describe. Having to go on stage two to three nights a week and sing the love songs I wrote about him made it even harder. I struggled to keep it together on stage sometimes. I saved the emotions for when I'd get back to the hotel or the tour bus. Then I'd be able to cry until my eyes hurt and were too heavy to stay awake.
Some nights were sleepless, though. On those nights, I'd usually just lay awake or try to use one of the streaming services on my phone to distract myself. One night, I found myself too hungry to be distracted. My stomach was rumbling enough that I could hardly hear the show I was watching. After some quick Googling, I found a 24 hour diner that seemed like it would be slow enough for me to go without being recgonized.
I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a baggy hoodie with the hood up to cover my face. I put my phone and my hotel room key in my pocket, and left to make my way to the diner.
As I expected, there weren't many people there. Maybe one table with two young ladies sat there, plus the workers. I kept my hood up anyways as I ordered, just in case. The host who took my order did look at me like he may have known who I was, but he didn't say anything.
My plan was to get my food and take it back to the hotel to eat it. But that plan was quickly changed when a familiar British voice said, "(Y/N)?"
I froze. There was no way he was actually here. It had to be a figment of my imagination. A hallucination made up by my misery over the breakup and his quick moving on.
But when I looked up, there he was. He was also in a hoodie and sweatpants, but was doing less to hide his identity. Actually, nothing to hide his identity. I couldn't help but glance around to make sure no one was looking at us or there was no paparazzi that had followed him and started snapping photos.
"How did you know it was me?" I asked, then realized it was a stupid question and winced at myself.
"That's...um...my hoodie."
I looked down and realized that he was right. I hadn't even noticed that I had it, even when I packed it for the tour.
"I was wondering where it went," he said with a little smile.
"Here it is," I said, lamely flourishing my hands. "I'd offer to give it back, but I'm not wearing anything underneath."
I saw him swallow at my comment. I thought I saw a tinge of pink creeping onto his cheeks, but I figured it must've been the lighting or something. There was no way I could still make him blush when he obviously had no feelings for me anymore.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"I'm in town shooting the Fantastic Four movie," he explained. "I just finished a late shoot, so I stopped in for something to eat. What are you doing here?"
"I had a show tonight. I couldn't sleep, and I'm hungry. So..." I did my lame flourish again.
"Oh yes. The post-show adrenaline."
I ground my teeth to keep from saying anything. The weeks of sadness and misery suddenly vanished and became anger. I was angry at him for reminding me that he knew me so well. That we had shared memories on sleepless nights like this. I was also angry that he didn't think our breakup and his quick moving on would be the cause of my sleeplessness. Did he think I didn't know? Or just that I'd be okay with him and his new girlfriend mere weeks after our two year long relationship ended?
I just shrugged in response.
My order was called and I quickly grabbed it. I turned to give Joseph a wave as a goodbye. I needed to get out of there and get back to my hotel room to wallow in my dispair.
But it seemed Joseph had other plans, as he stopped me before I could leave. "Do you want to sit? Maybe...catch up?"
"Is that a good idea?" I asked.
"I don't see why it wouldn't be."
"You don't want your new girlfriend to see paparazzi photos of you with your ex."
There, it was finally out. No more tiptoeing around the topic.
It seemed to have its desired effect as Joseph was now awkwardly shuffling. He rubbed the back of his neck, which was now undoubtably turning pink. "So, you've heard."
"Of course I heard!" I snapped. I glanced around again, realizing I was raising my voice. "Your pictures are everywhere, and I'm being tagged in them cause we never told everyone we had broken up."
"I'm sorry you had to find out that way."
I scoffed. "How else was I going to find out? Were you going to call me and tell me you were dating the girl you said wasn't a threat to our relationship?"
He sighed. Before he could say anything else, they called that another order was ready, and evidently it was his. It was also packed in a to go bag, so he clearly had no intentions of staying either. With any luck, he'd drop this stupid idea of sitting down for a "catch up" and let me leave to deal with all the emptions I was feeling.
But of course, luck was not on my side.
Joseph grabbed his food and turned back to me. "Just...sit with me for 15 minutes at least. Let me explain."
Even though I very much wanted an explanation, I said, "You don't have to explain anything."
"Just...please, (Y/N)."
And that's how I found myself sat in a booth that was tucked away, in the middle of the night with my ex-boyfriend.
It was a bad idea, and I knew that. Besides the fact that I definitely should not be sitting down with the ex that I had been in shambles over for weeks, it was also a bad idea publicity wise. Joseph wasn't trying to hide himself. Anyone could see us and snap a picture, or call paparazzi to make a quick buck. Even with me trying to hide myself, someone would eventually put the pieces together to realize it was me. Then we'd have a whole new shit show on our hands.
I opened my food and started to eat. There was no point in letting it go cold and completely ruin my night. Joseph wasn't as quick to do the same. He was watching me. When I realized he wasn't eating, I made a gesture for him to start talking.
"Is there anything specific you want to know?" he asked.
Well, that was a stupid question. There was a lot I wanted to know. So much so that I knew we'd be here way longer than 15 minutes if I asked it all.
I decided to ask him the most prominent question on my mind: "Did you leave me for her?"
He seemed stunned by my question. "No! No, of course I didn't. Why would you think that?"
I gave him a look. "Come on, Joseph. We both know why I'd think that."
He shuffled in his seat. "It's not like that."
"Then explain it. That's the whole reason I'm sat here."
So he did. He told me he met Doja (he used her real name, which made my stomach churn) at her concert. He had gone with a few friends, and when she found out he was there she brought them backstage to meet her. He swore it was all casual at first, that they were just friendly and were making light of the situation between her and Noah. When things started changing, he swore it was just a rebound thing.
"I never meant for it to become anything more," he insisted. "I was still so hurt. I just wanted something that would take my mind off of the pain."
I couldn't hold back the scoff that escaped my lips. "What?"
"Oh, nothing," I said. "I'm just so sorry to hear that you were hurting."
"What, you don't think our breakup was hard for me?"
"Weirdly enough, no, I didn't think you took things hard when you dumped me."
Joseph sighed. "It wasn't - "
"And you know what else?" I cut him off. "You told me you found it hard for us to be together because of our professions. And, honestly, I understood! If you weren't away filming, I was away touring. If you weren't doing press for a movie or show, I was doing press for an album. It wasn't easy, and while I was willing to go through those strifes for us, I did understand how it could be too difficult for you. But then you turned around, not even a month after you dumped me, and started dating another singer."
He was quiet. He couldn't even meet my eye.
I felt a lump forming in my throat, and my voice cracked as I said, "If you didn't love me anymore, you could've just said that."
He looked up at me quickly. "That's not - "
He was cut off again. Not by me this time, but by his phone. Someone was calling him. When I looked at the screen, I saw her name. It felt like a knife directly through my heart.
I packed my food and stood. Joseph looked like he was going to say something, but I put a hand up to stop him. "Answer your girlfriend, Joseph."
He didn't try to stop me when I left this time.
~~~~~~
As I expected, photos of Joseph and I got out. I didn't know to what extent as I still wasn't back on social media. My manager confronted me about it and I explained what had happened. She wasn't upset as I wasn't the one who hadn't been concealing my identity, and she agreed that the best course of action was just to ignore everything until it blew over.
Another two months passed and the tour finally ended. It became easier to perform as the time went on. Not completely easy, and I did have a night or two where I slipped up and got emotional on stage, but eventually I was able to put the meanings of my songs aside and just performed them for my fans. I knew some nights weren't as great as others, but I got through it, and finally I was going to have a break.
Chloe reluctantly agreed to let me have my social media back. I was still hurting a little, but I told her I couldn't isolate myself forever. It just wasn't healthy. Besides, I would need something to keep me occupied while I was home, besides just watching mind numbing reality TV. She finally relented when I told her she could watch me block the words "Joseph Quinn" and "Doja Cat" on all social media so that I wouldn't have to see any posts about them.
I was honestly surprised to find that I didn't want to look up anything to do with them. For a long time, the desire to know about their relationship was eating away at me. There were so many specifics I felt like I needed to know, but I eventually realized that I was just going to hurt myself further if I looked into them. Of course, I didn't completely stop thinking about Joseph. I didn't expect to. We had been together for two years, almost moved in with one another. I thought we were going to get married. You don't just let that go easily. But at least it was getting a little easier to live in a world where he was no longer mine.
On one particularly nice day, I decided to go out on the balcony to read. It was one of those fall days where the sun was out and there was a little heat coming from it, but not enough that it was unbearable. A slight breeze would blow through every so often, just cool enough to keep it tolerable outside. I was laid back in one of my deck chairs, engrossed in my book to a point that I hadn't heard someone approaching.
"Must be an interesting novel."
I jumped at the sound of a voice coming from my driveway below. I bookmarked my page and sat up to see the last person I wanted to be around. "What are you doing here, Joseph?"
"I just got back from filming."
"Good for you."
"I...I was hoping you were home."
"Well, you see that I am. Don't let the gate hit you on the way out."
"(Y/N), can we just talk?"
I stood from my seat and leaned over the balcony railing to look at him. "We said all there was to say in that diner months ago. There's nothing else to be talked about. Besides, do you want more pictures of us to come out? I'm sure Doja wouldn't be happy to see her man making a personal visit to his ex's place."
"We broke up!"
I stopped. "What?"
"Last month. It was all over social media, or so Lupita tells me." He tilted his head. "You didn't hear?"
"I-I blocked yours and Doja's names on social media so I wouldn't have to see any tweets or posts about you."
Joseph looked at me for a moment before barking out a laugh. I couldn't help but put a hand over my face as I laughed as well. Of course, by trying to block him out completely, I had totally missed the one thing I would've wanted to see.
I was a bit reluctant, but eventually I invited Joseph to come up. He knew his way through my place, he had been there enough times. I sat back down on my deck chair and pulled another one closer to me, as he appeared in the glass doorway. He sat down next to me and memories of all the times we had been out here flooded back to me.
"I wasn't done talking that night in the diner," he said. "I still had so much to say, and I have even more to say now."
"I didn't want to hear it," I admitted. "In my mind, after hearing how you and Doja got together, it just made more sense if you had broken up with me because you didn't love me anymore."
He shook his head. "It wasn't that at all. I never stopped loving you."
I was itching to ask him if that meant he still loved me now, but instead I said, "Then why?"
"I broke up with you because I loved you so much," he said. "Because loving you but not getting to spend time with you hurt so much, and I knew there was no way around that. When I started getting more job offers I knew things were just going to get so much busier for me, and that our already very short time together was going to dwindle down more and more, and I hated the thought of that."
"I would've taken a break," I told him.
"I couldn't ask you to do that. You love making music and performing. I could never ask you to stop doing that, or to change that. I thought the best thing for you would be if you could find someone who wasn't as busy, and who'd be able to go on tour with you and be at all your shows. Someone who wouldn't be in a different time zone basically 11 months out of a year and only be able to call you for an hour max every night."
"But what if that's not what I want?" I asked. "Yes, it was hard not to get to see you all the time, but I never would've traded that for anything else. I was so proud of you for all those roles you were getting, and even if I only got to talk to you for a few minutes, I loved getting to hear what you were doing. Because you were achieving your dream, and I got to be there to experience it. I don't want someone who can be with me all the time, I want you."
I hadn't noticed that we were both sat on the edge of our chairs. We were so close we were almost touching. I could smell the familiar scent of his cologne and it was making my heart skip a few beats.
"I should've talked to you instead of deciding just to end things," he said, his voice soft and quiet.
"You should've," I agreed. "And then if you were going to rebound, you shouldn't have done it with the girl you told me not to worry about."
He awkwardly chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, not my finest moment."
I sat back in my chair, although I didn't want to. I wanted to keep being this close to him, or maybe to get closer. "So why did you two breakup anyways?"
"She was nice and all, but she wasn't you."
We sat in silence, letting his words sink in. He was looking at me, almost like he was waiting. Maybe I was waiting, too, to see where that confession was supposed to go. After a few moments, my body moved before my mind could comprehend what was happening. I quickly leaned forward, nearly putting myself on Joseph's lap, and started kissing him. He kissed me back immediately, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me the rest of the way onto his lap.
"I missed you," he mumbled against my lips.
"I missed you too," I admitted. I pulled away to add, "But don't think you're completely off the hook. You did still hurt me, you know."
"I know I did. I'll spend the rest of my life making up for it if I have to."
I smiled. "I think I like the sound of that."
He smiled back at me and pulled me back in for another kiss. Eventually, my book was abandoned on the balcony, and the large blinds were closed to keep from anyone being able to see the reunion happening inside.
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repulsiveliquidation · 1 year ago
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Elevators || Jill Roord
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a/n : based on that picture because y'all she fine. just a little pure smut fic!
warnings : straps, public sex
“I suggest you keep your mouth shut and focus on making yourself come or else you don’t come at all tonight,” Jill growls in your ear, two of her long fingers slipping down your shorts and into your pussy in one swift motion.
You gasp and look up at her with fear, the mirrored elevator did nothing to hide your activities but did entice your public sex kink. Jill watched as your eyes looked around at all the reflective walls, a glint of mischief in her eyes. 
“Cat got your tongue, lieveling?” Jill teases, the tips of her fingers pressed up into your sweet spot as she crowds you.
“No mommy…” you whisper, looking up at her through your eyebrows.
“Then be my perfect girl and make yourself come on my fingers,” she chirps, dragging her thick fingers out of your pants to suck on for a second before slipping them in. The elevator dings suddenly and a crowd of people step in, crushing you like sardines. Jill grins wide, her fingers pressing back inside you with eagerness and a new-found determination.
“Get to work, baby.”
You look up at her as the elevator dings again and some people step off. About 5 more people come in and Jill does a good job at keeping you covered and protected. You grab her wrist and begin to grind down on her fingers.
She helps you through it, fingers pressed tight to your sweet spot. Your lips are red and bitten, your throat tightening with how hard you’re holding your noises in. You look up at Jill and she’s panting a little, eyes focused on yours.
She leans in and pecks your lips, whispering “I know you’re close, schat. Can feel you clenching around me.”
You nod, hips grinding down on her fingers just as she slips a third one in. You squeak but Jill coughs to cover for you, the three people left in the elevator paying you no mind.
She leans in closer, her huge coat shielding your small frame.
“Two more floors baby, think you can do it?”
“I can mommy, just a little more…!”
“Better hurry, these people will be getting off soon.”
You grind harder now, Jill presses her palm down and your clit catches it. It sends pure ecstasy through your core, your orgasm crashing down on you in surprise. Jill manages to catch you before your legs turn to jelly, fingers slipping out and into her mouth to clean off.
Just as you’re about to kiss her and taste yourself on her, the elevator dings on your floor. Jill picks you up and walks out the door with a smug look on her face. She’s going to need to tap into this bold vein she never knew she had.
Back at home though, she threw open the apartment door and rushed to the bedroom with you. She threw you onto the bed, lips locked on yours in a split second.
“Think you deserve your reward now, princess?” she teased, kissing down your neck.
“Please mommy, I did like you asked…” you say, hands tugging at her training shirt, “was such a good girl for you.”
“You certainly were, my darling,” she whispers, pulling your clothes off hurriedly. You unbuckle your bra and she’s on you in an instant, taking the right in her mouth while she kneads the other. You moan and buck up into her, lip caught between your teeth again.
“Don’t move,” she growls, nipping your nipple before pushing herself off the bed. She strips fast as you ogle at her, grinning when she grabs your favorite strap from the box under the bed.
She puts it on painstakingly slow, your core aching and throbbing for her when she finally climbs onto the bed. She kneels beside you, making no move to touch you. You tilt your head, and she raises an eyebrow at you.
“Suck,” she demands, spreading her knees on the bed.
You hop up and get her in your mouth, sucking the tip hard as your hand strokes the length of her strap. She watches you, eyes dark and lustrous.
“Good, don’t stop,” she says breathlessly as you take more of her cock in your mouth. You moan when she grabs your hair in a loose ponytail, hips bucking into your mouth.
Your spit drools everywhere and makes a mess, one that Jill delights in. She pulls you off her cock, stepping off the bed and pulling your ass to the edge. You bend over how she likes, back arches in a deep bow as she admires the view.
She drags her fingers through your supple folds, reveling in the amount of slick that accumulated just from sucking her cock. She presses the tip to your hole, watching as your pussy just takes her in. You grip the sheets, pushing back onto her. She spanks your ass, grinning when you take the whole thing.
“You take me so well, princess,” Jill praises, fucking into you slowly.
“Feels so good, mommy,” you mumble into the mattress. Jill grips your hips hard, pounding into your pussy rough and fast. The wet noises fill the room, spurring her on to make you come. She props her leg up on the bed, hips drilling into you from behind.
“Fuck!” you scream, her cock pounding into your sweet spot.
“There darling?”
“Yes mommy, please!”  
“Gonna come for me again, my love?”
“Yes! Wanna be so good for you!”
She pulls you back into her, hips fucking deeper into you as her hand wraps around your neck and the other pulls at your nipples.
“Come,” she grunts into your ear, just as you squirt all over the mattress and her cock. She pulls out and takes the harness off, climbing on the bed. You crawl between her legs as she settles in the middle of the bed, your mouth suckling at her clit hard as she plays with her nipples.
“Fuck, just a little more baby,” she whispers, chest heaving with pleasure. She grinds into your tongue that slips inside her, moaning your name when she comes all over your face.
She leans down and cradles your face as she kisses you, grinning against your lips.
“Mm, I love you,” she whispers, pecking your nose as you settle in her lap.
“I love you too, baby.”
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jhunals · 1 year ago
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team dragonborn dashboard simulator
(in which the gang discuss the thalmor, rumarin tries something new, an alpha male ventures over to tumblr, and the ldb has a rough time)
[part 2]
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🗡️ dragonguard_kaidan Follow
I want everyone to know that @ thlmr.tal has a history of racist behavior, and you can see it clearly in his old posts. It's not a surprise that he still wears the robes of an organization known for gen*cide.
🐱 thlmr.tal Follow
You scrolled past all the pictures of my cats on my blog to get to my old posts (from years ago, mind you), and you still left salty?
🌱 greenauri Follow
that in no way excuses what kaidan accused you of?
🐱 thlmr.tal Follow
Ah. Well, I have a knack for brushing off my problematic elements.
718 notes
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🌼 prince.cary Follow
just as a reminder, i am no longer affiliated with the thalmor. in fact, i actively speak out against them quite often.
🌼 prince.cary
update: my father found my blog and thereby my location due to the attention this post got. will be going offline for a while
22,467 notes
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👹 rumarin Follow
about to try this new type of skooma since i don't see anyone else doing it
👹 rumarin
this skooma aint shit
👹 rumarin
who am i . what am ido ing here?
👹 rumarin
ithink i i h9 myslef
👹 rumarin
hmster
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👹 rumarin
th dragobnorn wasrigh .t i tinki shld see a teraphist
👹 rumarin
update: it went well 👍
🐉 ldb Follow
ru what the fuck
🥴 elffcker96 Follow
we love you king but you should get help
5,302 notes
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😈 bluecatinigo Follow
INIGO THE BRAVE
Volume II, Part V
Inigo was meandering past a farm, when suddenly he was caught in a surprise rainstorm. He ran for cover on the farm's porch, and the door promptly opened behind him. Within stood a tall farmer of unspecified gender and race.
"Come in, friend! The rain can be dreadful, but I have made some soup to get the chill out," said the farmer.
Inigo was grateful for the hospitality, and he followed the farmer inside.
-------------------------------Keep Reading-------------------------------
📜 scholarlucien Follow
Enlightening update! I did not see the plot twist coming. Glad Inigo survived that dragon attack :)
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🌱 greenauri Follow
i'm tired of EVERYTHING. i want to leave this party right now.
🌱 greenauri
yes, inigo and lucien were eating sweetrolls in front of me again
7,564 notes
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🐺 rangerbishop Follow
A woman in a tavern is a red flag. I saw three yesterday laughing together at the Sleeping Giant Inn and I immediately knew something was up. Avoid these wenches at all costs. All they want is your coin.
🪲 thecuntress Follow
yesss pop off king
👑 sapphicmonarch Follow
saw this guy getting his ass kicked by a MUDCRAB on my way to markarth. in case ur wondering i did not help him
🌩️ drowstorm Follow
this dude asked me out. he made me pay for both our drinks btw
🗡️ dragonguard_kaidan Follow
go to hell you you piece of hsit
🐊 lucifer.the.argonian Follow
you know this site is predominantly non-men right? idk what kind of audience you were expecting but you will not find it here
👊 mickeysdicksmasherthelorefriendlykhajiit Follow
this mf needs to SHUT UP
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🐱 thlmr.tal Follow
reblog if you would fuck the LDB
🐉 ldb Follow
taliesin why would you post this
🐱 thlmr.tal Follow
I need to scout out my competition.
72,890 notes
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urls (some are a little on the nose lol):
ldb = the last dragonborn
dragonguard_kaidan = kaidan
thlmr.tal = taliesin
greenauri = auri
prince.cary = caryalind thallery
rumarin = rumarin duh
bluecatinigo = inigo
scholarlucien = lucien
rangerbishop = bishop from skyrim romance mod
lucifer.the.argonian = lucifer (the argonian)
mickeysdicksmasherthelorefriendlykhajiit = based on foulserpent (on tumblr)'s dragonborn and their video series on bishop
all other urls = random npcs
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brights-place · 4 months ago
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Favourite things I have found in Riddles Dream TWST!
Massive spoilers ahead so skip if ya dont wanna be spoiled
I KNOW IT'S JUST A DREAM GUYS BUT I PROMISE YOU IF CHE'NYA ACUTALLY PLAYS BASS I'D SQUEAL I LOVE THIS CGOOFY CHESHIRE BUM!! ALSO Since we have riddles Dream everybody down to read a band au! because I'd gladly write it! oh and also the fact che'nya just goes with whatever riddle does is funny to me
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Another is when Riddle was cussing out the cops it was very funny though I'm waiting for my friend to translate what it means also HELP WHY ARE THE CHARACTERS SO SCRUM DILLY YUM YUM ESPECIALLY RIDDLES OUTFIT!! THIS MAN ALSO ASKED THEM ALL TO JOIN HIS BAND IT'S SO WEIRD TO SEE ALONG WITH HIM CALLING CATER KAY-KUN
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I liked this scene also because Trey looked stress in being inside the roseheart estate. I mean come on what happened in Riddles childhood affected riddle so much but nto only that Trey is stressed to not even the mention of Riddles Childhood with him and che'nya but also being INSIDE the estate even fi it's in a dream LIKE MY BOY NEEDS TO BE SAVED?!
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This scene makes me tweak because the amount of refrences made recently has me giggling! "OPEN YOUR MOUTH WIDER" is what the queen of hearts said to Alice when she couldn't hear the girl more PROPERLY when she introduced herself.
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GUYS I PROMISE IM SANE BUT THE AMOUNT OF CHE'NYA CONTENT BEING FED FOR ME IS MAKING ME SQUEAL HOLY FUCK I LOVE THIS MANS CHARACTER
I MIGHT ASWELL BECOME A CHE'NYA BLOG BY NOW CAUSE OMGGG
Another scene was where Riddle referenced Alice in the start of the movie “Whats good use of a book without any pictures” “Theres alot of many good books without pictures [alice]” but in the scene the person is referring to riddle and Riddle quotes this but sadly I cant find the photo of it
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"This is the queens castle it's all up to the queens will" WHICH REMIND ME OF THE CHESHIRE CAT SAYING "The only way here is the queens way" ALSO THE FACT HE IS PULLING OFF BEING BASED OFF THE CHESHRIE CAT MAKES ME TWEAK with this post your just seeing me post che'nya in riddles dream gang my bad... I think you can see I love the cheshire cat...
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Another part I like is the refrence to Alice when she cried another scene where che'nya also refrences the cheshire cat AGAIN so I know I'm being fed like an animal I'm so happy bout that
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Also the fact thres a new rule we learnt! Rule 372. If red cap mushrooms grow on a monday morning the roses in the garden must be white! so thats going down on the list I have. Also the mention of the Javawocky from che'nya is quite a cool scene to know! because I may ro may nto have TWST oc's thats based off of things and one of them being BASED off of the Javawocky...
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GUSY GUYS CHE'NYA IS MAKIN EVERYTHING WORSE OMG THIS BEASTMAN MAKES ME SO DONE
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Another reference to when the cheshire cat made the queen of hearts trip in the movie SCAR REFRENCE SCARE REFRENCE TO THE LION KING WHEN SCAR SAYS "I despise guessing games" TO SIMBA OMG! Other then those moments thats all I got for now until I finish off the next moments! two new posts will be out soon so hope yall like that <33
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six-eyed-samurai · 1 year ago
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SUMMARY: Rindou loves you and all but...you really aren't supposed to be spamming his phone during a meeting right now.... A/N: This is absolute crack, based off a recent convo and dedicated to my unhinged moot @plebbypebblepleb WARNINGS: Sanzu on drugs and swearing
>>look at this cat I found
>>he's so cute!!!!!!
>>IM GONNA DIE FROM CUTENESS can we pls pls adopt him???
>>never mind
>>HE BIT ME
Rindou felt his eye twitch. He discreetly swiped away the notifications on his pinging phone away under the table. Thankfully no one had noticed yet, although Ran was grinning slyly at him he always was.
Twenty messages.
Barely ten minutes had even gone by in the meeting.
Luckily he had turned off volume for his phone. Mikey wouldn't be too happy to have his Bonten meeting so frequently interrupted so unprofessionally. Rindou didn't have much interest in being laughed at or questioned by the others either.
>>riiiiiiin
>>I was watching some videos
>>would you become a 100 foot boa constructor who eats British children boiled and gets skinned to be used as socks or boots for a Russian lady I consumed three centuries ago (she tasted like coconut)
I'm in a meeting<<
And no???<<
Rindou continued to nod at Mikey's words, doing his utmost best to divide his attention between his rapidly typing fingers and his boss while Ran ducked his head under the table curiously and came up with a wink and a very obvious smirk. Koko eyes them both suspiciously.
He was used to this. Absolutely. One thing that came with dating you was that you had a tendency to spam his phone with updates of what you were doing, odd things you had seen, the most creative of questions and pictures bordering on unhinged.
He wouldn't change it for anything, of that Rindou was certain. He loved you to Pluto and back and in an every day fight he'd take your side over Ran (even despite the elder Haitani’s “miserable” theatrics of supposed betrayal). The texts livened up the dreary work of being part of the number one most wanted criminal gang.
But…
>>I'M NOT FINISHED
>>or drink fruit juice that will give you the seven most deadly diseases
Both are terrible<<
>>[image attached]
WTF<<
>>Like it?? <33
I don't want close up pics of your feet<<
>>how dare you
…it was quite the inconvenience when he was supposed to be working.
Like right now.
Rindou reached up and rubbed his temples. Mikey was getting to the important part and he was really struggling to concentrate. It wasn't like you didn't know he was busy. He had specifically mentioned it today. Rindou couldn't fault you either - this was just your love language and…this was probably revenge for him misplacing your favourite shirt.
He briefly considered ignoring your texts for now, until he could answer them later. But then it'd probably spiral to a 100+ and the vibrations were really starting to get to him. And he did once promise to never ignore anything you said after you apologized for talking too much. You might even call him.
Ugh. What a conundrum.
Ran’s smile widened and a new notification sprang up on Rindou’s phone.
>>Ah ah ah lil bro
>>texting your gf in a meeting?
>>you're very obvious about it
>>I'm sure Mikey will notice soon~~
Great. Two idiots were spamming up his phone now. Couldn't he ever catch a break? He caught Kakucho’s frown at him and adjusted his poker face again.
Shut up<<
You're on your phone too<<
>>I'm just warning you~~
Rindou exhaled sharply and kicked his brother under the table. Childish, but Ran was a child and he deserved it.
>>Rin???
>>guess what!!
>>my fav singer just dropped a new album!!
>>can we buy it later
>>pleaseeeeee
“Haitani Shithead! What are you doing under the table?”
Crap, Sanzu caught him. Rindou shrugged, leaning away from his side-eyeing neighbor. “Nothing, just need to arrange some things on my phone for some debts to be collected,” He lies casually.
The pinkhead is probably too high to realize the holes in the fib. Thankfully he lets it go with another pop of a pill. “Sure, don’t gotta be so secretive.”
“Also, don’t call me Shithead.”
>>[3 images attached]
>>chat wake up what is going on in my friends gc rn
Yes, Rindou wanted to scream, he absolutely had to be secretive…with the cursed pictures you had just sent him. Thirty unread messages already and the meeting wasn’t even ending yet! God, Ran wasn’t helping either - he too was now spamming Rindou’s chat.
>>rindou and (y/n)
>>sitting in a tree
>>k
>>i
>>s
You know what, he could make his excuses later. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Rindou massaged his temples again, sighed deeply and looked down on his phone.
He blocked the both of you.
***
Of course it came back to bite his ass when he went home later that night: having taken extreme offense to the block you had promptly banished Rindou out of your once shared bedroom and he was exiled to the couch.
Which was being hogged by Ran who claimed he was there first for his sixth nap of the day.
Maybe next time he should just “lose” his phone before a meeting.
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witchofthemidlands · 4 months ago
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this isn't a criticism at all because they're all ultimately derived of the same source materials, this is something i want to say in the hopes i can nudge someone towards a special interest of mine that invaded my brain & will never leave.
if you liked nosferatu (2024) wow, do i have the show for you! with the same content warnings as you'd receive for nosferatu may i offer upon you all: penny dreadful (2014-2016)
filled with some of the best ever adaptations of the characters from dracula, frankenstein, jekyll & hyde, the wolf man & the picture of dorian grey is (in my personal opinion) the most phenomenal gothic series i have ever seen in all my years of being a gothic literature fan, i have a degree in literature, a segment of it being in gothic literature, i have read these stories over & over again, dracula is my second favourite novel of all time, frankenstein is also in my top teen novels of all time & i love jekyll & hyde & i don’t think i have ever seen a loosely based adaptation get these characters so well. do you vibe with nosferatu's ellen hutter? let me tell you about the beautiful, the love of my life, vanessa ives! played by the ethereal eva green! vanessa is tragic, beautiful & literally possessed by a demon. she is brave & brilliant, not to be a lesbian but oh my god, i rarely cry at pieces of media but i have shed so many tears over her & been in awe of her existence, she is derivative of both lucy westenra & mina harker, the calibre of acting from eva green is like nothing i have ever seen, her possession moments is just a masterclass in acting & the pain & desperation… oh vanessa will ruin your life. harry treadaway must have been touched by some acting deity & i cannot believe he isn't a massive name in television & film because he is the best version of victor frankenstein i have ever seen in any adaptation of frankenstein & this isn't even about just the frankenstein story. harrytreadaway!victor is an absolute cringefail pathetic wet cat of a man (affectionate) who sits there looking like he's on ten different substances whilst sometimes going off on side quests with his best friend vanessa & often judges the rest of the squad nobody is matching his freak. he is THE version of victor frankenstein of all time. if there is anything else that man has done that anyone recommends send it my way because that is an actor. rory kinnear gives the emotionl performance of a lifetime as frankenstein's creature & explores so many aspects of that character in ways i have never seen before in all my years of watching adaptations of frankenstein. josh hartnett as ethan chandler… that man's story is a RIDE, he is a disaster & a gentleman. he is also openly bisexual & for no reasons why & in no way beneficial to the plot, has sexual relations with dorian gray & speaking of dorian gray. i have never liked that book, that story has never been for me but that beautiful singer reeve carney made me see so many different aspects of a character i have never liked & is just brilliant because his character is just there to have sexual relations & not really benefit the overall plot that much at all. there are new iterations of mina murray, her father malcolm murray, a grumpy old man played the same bloke who portrayed niles caulder from doom patrol & basically plays the same character, van helsing, a charmingly sinister iteration of dracula & an otherworldly brilliantly acted version of dr. henry jekyll who seems like he had a situationship with frankenstein.
ultimately vanessa, sembene, malcolm murray, ethan & frankenstein are forced found family, they are strays, they are disasters, they are frenemies, they're forced found family bound together, in the most dysfunctional manner, the only one with a braincell is sembene who's too good for their shit & of course my love, the brilliant & the gorgeous billie piper plays a phenomenal iteration of the bride of frankenstein in the most raw performance i have seen from her. i am absolutely in love with her, she is so beautiful & so talented & did something to my brain chemistry. there is heartbreak, humour, adventure, the gothic, the weird & the tragic. this series is something else & that's not even the half of it.
also broadway legend patti lupone plays a genderbent dr. seward from dracula & i want her to do unspeakable things to me.
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lilyinheaven · 6 months ago
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Strange Sight
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In which Cassandra finally talks to you for the first time, and of course it happens when you’re crying.
Cassandra Cain x fem!reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.39k
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: Reader referred as ‘girl’ and ‘pretty,’ not much angst, more of comfort, reader is pictured as being sensitive and crying easily, Cassandra doesn’t talk a lot, short sentences and hums.
note: this is based off the time I worked at taco bell and a manager scolded me and made me cry…also, I got her fired because she was put under investigation after that and they found a WHOLE lot of crap about her, and to this day I still feel guilty 💔
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Very rarely is Cassandra ever intimidated by someone. The only person who comes close is her father.
But never cute, pretty girls.
Cassandra has seen you plenty of times. The first time, she was patrolling around Gotham, and came across a cat cafe that looked to be empty, except that the lights were on. It was getting pretty late, and Cassandra didn’t think anyone would be out and about at this time, with it being 5pm in the beginning of December, and night coming sooner than usual.
So, she took to walking the concrete sidewalks instead of the rooftops, which Jason would probably give her a light scolding for because it wouldn’t allow her to get the jump on any lawbreakers.
She was just passing the cat cafe when she caught the lights inside powering off in the corner of her eye, stopping her in her tracks when the door opened gently, and you stepped out.
It was so strange. Cassandra expected you to say something, anything, maybe scream for her silent figure startling you by standing right outside the door.
The scream never comes, however, you do meet her eyes under her cowl. You stare for a few moments, your eyes tracing over her mask, before turning and walking down the street, tote bag over your shoulder.
Cassandra stared after you. It was so strange, again. She could feel her cheeks burning under her mask, whether from how flustered and unusual she found your reaction to seeing THE Batgirl in front of you, or because…you were pretty. She wasn’t expecting that. Well, she was, all girls are beautiful to her, but you were the kind of pretty that affected her. You were pretty, pretty. Truthfully, she felt embarrassed. Of what? She’s not even sure.
That was the first time she saw you. The next dozen times she saw you, you were walking down that same street, with the same pink apron with an animated cat face in the front as part of your work uniform.
Tonight, however, was different. Cassandra had purposely passed by the cat cafe to try and see you again, except the lights inside were turned off. Strange. The open sign that hung on the inside of the front door of the cat cafe was flipped to the close sign. Strange x2.
Cassandra sighed defeatedly, settling on the fact that maybe you had to go home early, and she had missed you.
Her shoulders slump, and she grabs her grappling gun to launch it to the edge of a flat rooftop, pulling her up and continuing her patrol from up high.
It was a pretty quiet night, with the occasional sound of a car driving by on the road. She was still feeling pretty sad that she had missed you, and was trudging along the side of a rooftop, when she caught sight of your familiar hair, but it looked different. More…out of place, and frizzy.
You were sitting down on the bench at a bus stop, tired looking, with your usual tote bag slowly sliding off your shoulder as you stared down at the ground.
Even from up here, Cassandra could tell you looked sad, and tired.
Which brings her here. Feeling intimidated. She could go down there, and finally talk to you instead of hoping you’ll look at her and talk to her first.
She inhales, and exhales, and inhales again, before swinging down quietly.
She doesn’t know how, but she somehow got to stand right next to you without you even noticing her. She clears her throat, standing awkwardly off to the side of the bench.
You startle slightly, looking up at her with wide eyes.
It’s when you look up when Cassandra freezes, this time it’s not because you’re pretty, it’s because you’re crying.
You stare up at Cassandra for a moment, sniffing. “Um, hello..?”
You know who Batgirl is. Who doesn’t? This is Gotham, home of vigilantes, kinda. But it’s pretty rare to just see her out and about, much less trying to communicate with someone. She’s pretty known for her quiet and demure demeanor, and with the lack of articles surrounding her, not a lot of people know much about her.
“Mmh.” Cassandra hums lamely, her own greeting back to you.
There’s an awkward silence that fills the space between you, before Cassandra awkwardly clears her throat again. “You okay?” She asked carefully.
You nod, but at her question you can feel tears stinging at your eyes again. “Mhm.” You hum in reply, not trusting yourself to speak as you awkwardly try to look away and keep THE Batgirl from seeing your tears.
Oh god. The two years Cassandra spent to learn her communication skills are suddenly blanking from her mind, her tongue goes numb once she spots your eyes getting glassy.
Do something. Move.
Cassandra plops down onto the bench, leaving a bit of room for you to scoot away from her if you feel uncomfortable. “You can…talk to me. If you need.”
You finally look back up at her, right in time for a tear to glide down the curve of your cheek. Cassandra almost wants to reach out and wipe it off, but she clenches her fists by her sides.
“If it’s not too much…” You say, pausing for a moment to see if Cassandra would change her mind. She doesn’t, she just shakes her head for you to continue.
You swallow your nerves, a little intimidated by the thought of venting to a stranger, a vigilante, Batgirl, no less.
“I just…had a bad day at work.” You start off, hesitantly looking towards Cassandra.
Cassandra stays quiet, waiting for you to continue.
You take a deep breath, exhaling. “I work at the cat cafe nearby—“
I know that. Cassandra says mentally.
“-and I accidentally took the wrong order out to a customer, and I was scolded by my manager.” You say softly, rubbing away the tears that start to gather quicker at your eyes just from recalling the memory.
“She wasn’t even being mean about it, I’m just being sensitive and I started freaking out after she yelled at me and eventually one of the other managers sent me home because I wouldn’t stop crying and-“ You end your sentence off there, and take a sharp inhale of air, calming yourself down from getting worked up again.
Your breathing exercise might be too late though, because you crumple over your knees and whimper softly as you cry, trying to cry as quietly as you can and make yourself seem smaller.
Cassandra sits there awkwardly for a moment, going back and forward in her mind to decide what to do, before her gloved hand slowly reaches out, and softly lands on your back, rubbing it soothingly.
Your shoulders tremble while you cry, before relaxing a moment after Cassandra places her hand on your shoulder.
Eventually, your sniffles come less and less, until you no longer feel the need to sniff your tears and mucus away.
You sit up, using the back of your hand to wipe away the rest of the tears, before smiling genuinely at Cassandra. “Thank you. I feel a lot better now.”
Cassandra swallows. This is the first time she’s seen you smile. And you’re smiling at her.
“Um, mhm, it’s no problem.” She says after a moment of being lost for words at your smile.
She goes to open her mouth to talk, before she’s interrupted with a bus pulling in front of the bus stop.
You stand up, adjusting the straps of your tote bag and walking towards the bus doors opening. You pause, standing in front of the entrance to the bus, and looking over your shoulder at Cassandra.
“Thank you again, Batgirl.” You nod at her, before hurrying onto the bus after the driver sends you an impatient look, sitting in a random seat.
Cassandra stands there dumbly, staring after the bus as it pulls off the side of the road, and drives past her, leaving Cassandra in the empty silent space. Silent, except for the sound of police sirens and dogs barking in the distance, a reminder that she’s still on patrol.
She whips around, the bus long gone down the empty street by now.
“Bye.” She says quietly, before grabbing her grappling hook and taking off into the air onto a building nearby.
What a strange night.
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If you liked this work, please reblog and comment, as that helps spread around my writing and helps me meet wonderful people like you! 💗
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