#also i am here lmaoo briefly.

[truexman]

"I am here!"

[k1ngdom-of-thieves]

how would the first years react to finding out reader is a girl?

You guys really like these types of requests! Thank you so much for supporting me.

Here’s it with the dorm leaders and vice dorm leaders

First years + Finding out reader is a girl!

Ace Trappola

Despite being one of your closest friends, Ace is probably one of the last people to find out. He doesn’t really pay the best attention to his surroundings.

How he found out was by complete accident. He was walk by Sam’s shop when the man himself called out to him to bring you a package.

Luckily he was already on the way to Ramshackle, so this wasn’t that big of a deal. He was still grumbling about doing “your chores” though. And Ace being Ace, was hungry and decided to check your package to see if there was food in it.

What he found wasn’t food, but an entire box of clothes with women’s sizing. Needless to say, you had an extremely confused Ace knocking on the door.

“Hey!! Are you really a girl?! I was looking at this box-I was hungry- Ugh, I’m making myself look like a huge jerk, aren’t I?”

Deuce Spade

Deuce is another who wouldn’t notice for a very long time. I think the only way he’ll realize is if either you tell him, or someone else does.

It’ll be a lot easier if you tell him straight up. If someone else does, he’s just going to think that they’re lying to get a reaction out of him for a while.

He’s gonna be so confused for a while after he finds out. Please give him a minute before telling him anything else. He’s doing the shinji pose lmaoo

The poor guy feels so guilty over making a simple mistake. Expect him to randomly apologize for the next week or so.

“W-WHAT?? I’m so sorry! I thought this whole time- ugh, I can’t believe I made such a big mistake. Huh? You’re not mad? Oh..ok.”

Jack Howl

Jack knew you smelt different from the others in the school, he just couldn’t tell if was because you were magic-less, from a different world, or just because you were around Grim for too long. The idea of you being a girl briefly crossed his mind, but he didn’t give it too much thought.

He found out when you were complaining to Grim about Crowley only giving you clothes in men’s sizing. Now he didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but with his huge ears, he managed to accidentally overhear.

Jack felt incredibly guilty over listening in on a private conversation, but his surprise ultimately overpowered his guilt. He accidentally lets out a loud “Huh?” before covering his mouth with his hand.

When you called out to whoever was listening, Jack awkwardly shuffled out for you to see, lowered ears and all. He immediately started apologizing as his tail stood limp by his side.

*Sigh* “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but be honest with me, is the fact that you’re a girl supposed to be a secret? Or am I just the last person to realize?”

Epel Felmier

Epel didn’t think much of you more feminine appearance. I mean, he’s almost in the exact same boat as you, so he doesn’t have much room to judge.

This is also what led to him finding out. He was complaining about Vil putting him under a strict diet again and how he was glad there was at least one other “pretty boy” at NRC.

Which led to you correcting him. “You know I’m not actually a guy, right?” Poor guy froze up immediately.

This country boy feels the slight pang of betrayal in his heart; he thought you two were in this together! But it turns out he must bare the curse of “cute” alone. He’s so dramatic lmao.

“Wait, but then how did you- nevermind. Guess I’ll have to deal with Vil’s stupid anti-aging exercises on my own then!” He doesn’t realize that this doesn’t change much of anything, you guys aren’t even in the same dorm.

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek never considered you to actually be a girl. Mostly because he was always paying more attention to Malleus’s “great deeds of the day”. He literally just helped someone with their homework.

He’s also another person that will only believe it if you tell him straight up. He’ll think that everyone else is just trying to make a fool out of an esteemed guard of Malleus!

If this is supposed to be a secret, why tell Sebek, first of all make sure you tell him in an empty room. He’s gonna be so loud about the entire ordeal.

If it’s not a secret, that just makes things easier for you. Either you can tell him straight up, or someone else will end up doing for you. He’s gonna feel terrible about it regardless though, so prepare yourself for a very loud apology.

“I HUMBLY APOLOGIZE FOR MY TRANSGRESSIONS! I-oh, I don’t need to yell? Alright, I am still deeply sorry though.”

[mikashisus]

EMPIRE OF BLOOD

01. when does a man become a monster

TAGLIST ! @tragedy-of-commons @https-sourlimes @ughscara @yourfavoritefreakyhan @wystiix

NOTES: first chapter yippee!! i actually adore this chapter and it'll be hard for me to have a new fav chapter after this. i think the only chapter that could one-up this one would be the ball chapter, which... will not come until wayyy later. i already wrote half of it. this whole fic has been written out of chronological order LMAOO

WC: 4.3k

masterlist | next

You were eleven years old when you first killed a man. 

The searing pain under your skin did nothing to help the immense shock you felt upon watching as the light left the man’s eyes. 

With shaky hands that were stained entirely in fresh, warm blood, you released him from your grip and watched as his lifeless body fell to the ground. His head lolled to the side, his neck almost completely detached from the rest of his body. 

The ghastly sight made you feel like you were about to vomit. You gagged, a few coughs following after before you wrapped your arms around your middle and hurled up your half eaten breakfast. More coughs followed and you wiped your lips with the hem of your ragged dress. 

A sense of panic welled within you as you realized what you had just done. You scrambled away from the dead body of a Mondstadt nobleman. A few helpless screams left your mouth, loud enough to alert a group of knights nearby. Your throat was burning, your screams coming out in hoarse chokes. 

Finally ripping your eyes away from the man’s maimed body, you stared down at your shaking hands. Your vision blurred as you tried to steady your breathing. It was to no avail. The air in your lungs felt thin, and your throat felt like it was closing up. Your lungs tightened, and it became increasingly harder to breathe. 

At the lack of oxygen, you panicked even more. One of your hands reached up to claw at your throat, leaving trails of crimson stains in its wake. 

A soothing voice pierced your ears amidst the loud ringing. 

“You are not alone. I am here. Breathe. In… and out…” 

You attempted to follow their instructions as best as you could. When your eyes opened, you finally caught sight of your savior— it was a green-clad figure. The voice made it hard to tell their identity, or perhaps they were just androgynous. The image of them was blurred from the tears gathering in your eyes, but you could briefly spot their lips pulling up into a kind smile. 

You glanced behind them at the dead body. The air in your lungs felt thin once more. You wanted to leave, to run far away and never have to see such an ungodly sight ever again. 

Fate had other plans as a comforting hand rested on your back. The androgynous figure was now gone, replaced with a dashing woman whose features were threatening in appearance only. Her pitch black eyes with crimson X’s in the center showed deep concern, accompanied by a frown. 

She gently wiped the tears from your eyes. You blinked rapidly as she did so, the sharpness of her nails just barely stabbing you in the eye. You were able to get a better look at her now that your vision was cleared. 

She was a most gorgeous woman, with fair skin and her hair a mix of black and white. She wore blood red lipstick that contrasted her skin tone. She wore a gray suit with black and crimson accents. The cuffs of her sleeves looked similar to swan feathers. A pin in the shape of a butterfly sat on her collarbone, the deep ruby red gems glowing like menacing eyes under the light of the moon. 

Her hands, also black like the night, were careful as they settled on your shoulders. Three of her nails on each hand were painted red. The other two were black. 

This woman appeared scary, but her comforting touch and her kind words were far from that. Just from her presence alone, you could tell that she was not a threat to you. She was not here to harm you or drag you into the knights’ custody. 

You could tell just from her expression and her aura. 

“Relax,” she whispered. 

Her voice was authoritative, commanding, but there was an underlying softness in the way she spoke to you— as if she knew how to handle children your age. She brushed the hair out of your eyes. 

“There is no need to cry anymore. There is no need to be afraid. You are safe.” 

The kind words of this strange woman surged through you right to your heart. Your lip trembled, and your eyes gathered with tears once more. You shuffled towards her kneeled body, grabbing onto the blazer of her gray suit with fervor. You dug your face into her hold, your cheek resting against her stomach. 

Sobs racked through your tiny body. She did not push you away like you expected. Instead, she knelt into a more comfortable position and gently patted your head as you cried. 

You did not want her to leave. You were desperately hoping that this was not a dream. If this was a dream, it was a cruel one. A child of your age needed a parent right now, and your young mind latched onto the only adult figure that cared enough to show you sympathy. 

“Shhh. It’s okay.” She shushed you. “I won’t be going anywhere.” 

You snuggled into her further. Despite your attempts to cling to the only adult figure that showed you mercy and comfort, she did not reciprocate affection like a parent usually would. She had the ability to calm your nerves and soothe your mind, but she did not seem capable enough to coddle you like a mother would to her newborn baby. 

She opted for little physical affection and let her words do the talking instead of her actions. 

It was very fatherly. Not like you would know; you never knew your father— or your mother, for that matter. 

“Come home with me.” She muttered. The words came out more like a statement, a demand, instead of a question. “I will raise you like a strict and unfeeling father.” 

That was how you ended up in a foreign nation’s orphanage, more commonly known as the House of the Hearth. 

The House wasn’t the best place. You came to find that many of the children were wackjobs— some more than others. But the orphanage was better than being thrown into jail for murdering a Mondstadt aristocrat. 

The woman—  Arlecchino, her name was —assured you that your background would be wiped clean. She promised you she would take care of everything regarding the matter of the aristocrat’s murder. You did not know whether to trust her judgment or not, but seeing as there was a roof over your head, food on your plate, and clean clothes at your disposal, you chose to trust her for now.

After all, this was the most attention you have received from an adult in your entire life. You never had more delicious food. In fact, you have never had this much food in your life. Instead of scrounging for scraps in alleyways and stealing more than a few apples from a vendor’s stall, you had three meals a day— including some snacks. 

You no longer had one article of clothing. Arlecchino gifted you with lavish dresses that your younger self could only dream of wearing in her wildest daydreams. You were finally able to wash your body regularly without relying on the nearest river. In fact, you had a whole bathroom with a pristine bathtub, a fluffy towel, and hair and body wash that completely cleaned your whole body. 

Instead of bunching up newspapers to sleep on and shivering in the brisk night breeze, you had a twin sized bed with comfy sheets and a bouncy mattress. Your pillow supported your head and neck, and you got a proper night’s sleep. 

It was like a dream come true. You wondered when this fantasy would end. Indeed it did end— but briefly. 

A few weeks after you settled in, Arlecchino came to have a chat with you. She ushered the other children out of the room and they obeyed without hesitation. She told you the first day she took you in to call her “Father,” to which you did so. But you couldn’t truly start addressing her as such when you did not know how a parent acted towards their child. It was something you would have to get acquainted with over time. 

Of course, she was not going to force you to do anything until you were ready. Except this… 

“This orphanage belongs to a Snezhnayan organization called the Fatui.” 

She did not sugar coat her words, and perhaps that was a greater mercy than lying straight to a child’s face. 

Your frown deepened. Ever so sharp, she caught the action. However, she said nothing. You let out a sigh and looked down at the polished marble flooring of the playroom. Your feet dangled off of the chair you were sitting on, not quite reaching the ground. You always were a bit smaller than your peers. 

Perhaps it had been because of your previous living conditions. 

A soft, “I see” left your lips. 

You knew all about the Fatui. They paraded around the streets of Mondstadt as if they owned the place. The talk of the town always gave you information you wished to know. By hiding in the shadows and listening in on conversations, you quickly learned that the Fatui had close dealings with Mondstadt. 

They were even close allies with impeccable trust five hundred years ago. The same could not be said today. 

Today, they used Mondstadt’s mistakes as leverage for their own gain. You had been tossed around one too many times by a snobby Fatuus that barked at you to “watch where you’re going” and threatened to throw you in jail.

Their threats were no more than harmless jokes in your eyes. You did not care about their words. You were more scared of the Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius than you were of some high ranking Fatui officer. After all, what authority did a Snezhnayan officer have over a Knight in Mondstadt? 

Nothing; Unless they blamed someone else for their wrongdoings and chalked it up to being another one of Mondstadt’s mistakes, further getting their Harbingers or even their Queen involved. That would then lead to foreign affairs with paperwork and more work that had the Knights complaining about how much they hated the Fatui. 

“So you must be a Harbinger then.” 

Arlecchino was surprised by your ability to catch onto things quickly. She silently praised you in that regard. 

“Yes, I am.” She answered your rather rhetorical question. 

“I know what the House of the Hearth is,” you heard about it a few times in passing, “you take in children from all over and raise them to be foot soldiers and sleeper agents for your poor excuse for a Queen.” 

The way you spat out those words was commendable. Arlecchino couldn’t scold you for your raw display of distaste. After all, you were a child of Freedom. You were used to having free will and free speech. 

“I would rather work as one of those deplorable Knights than be a part of your organization.” 

Arlecchino decided she would let this one slide. You hadn’t become an official member of the House yet, so it was unfair to punish you for words of betrayal if you didn’t even officially belong to this organization. So… she let it get swept under the rug just this once. 

Next time, she wouldn’t be so forgetful… nor would she show any mercy. 

She opened her mouth, a deal ready on her lips, when you abruptly continued. “However… you have given me a bed to sleep on and healthy food with proper meals. You have given me a place to bathe and you even let me play with real toys. I suppose… living here wouldn’t be so bad.” 

You were only a child. She thought you were a bit more mature for your age before, but considering how you completely disregarded the House’s initial purpose, she now believed otherwise. 

You were looking forward to living in a real home with a real family. You did not consider that you were selling your soul to the devil— that you would be bound to this organization for the rest of your life. If you tried to leave, well… betrayal wasn’t taken lightly here. 

“If you stay,” Arlecchino began, her voice stern like usual, “you can never return to the life of freedom you once lived.” 

Was she giving you an out? It sure didn’t sound like it earlier. You searched her eyes, only to find nothing. She was adept at masking her emotions. 

A sigh left your lips. “I would take here over how I lived before. I had nothing.” 

“You had freedom—“ 

“How much of that did I really have if I was slowly dying before you found me?” You looked up at her, a hopeless expression dancing in your pupils. 

She reconsidered her thoughts once more. Maybe you were smarter than what she gave you credit for. 

With the deal sealed, she stood from her seat next to you and nodded curtly. “Alright,” you were now one of her children, “welcome to the House of the Hearth. From this day forward, I am officially your ‘Father.’” 

The other children in the House were more than excited to have a new sibling. However, you wanted nothing to do with them. 

To you, they were crazed animals with unusual interests and an unwavering loyalty to Arlecchino. Most of them, actually. Not all of the children saw her as their savior. 

Even so, you were not intending to make friends or get close enough to call anyone your sibling. You stayed in your corner, staring at the wall more often than not, and wondering why you chose to stay. 

It was not like you had anywhere else to go, though. You were a child, you could not support yourself in the real world yet. And if you were sent back to Mondstadt, who knew what would happen to you. You might not even make it that far out of Fontaine before getting killed. 

Based on the way you mutilated that aristocrat though, you might have a chance. But your option to leave was now severed. You were officially a member of the House. If you tried to leave, you would lose your life. That was one of the most important rules of the House: betrayal was punishable by death. 

Your legs dangled off the side of your twin sized bed. Gently knocking your feet together, you stared down at your flats. This was the first pair of shoes you ever owned, and Arlecchino had been the one to give them to you. 

White with black lace trimming and a small black bow on top. The design engraved into the sides of the shoe resembled that of a swan’s wings. The flats fit you perfectly, as if they were made for your feet only. 

A small smile graced your lips as you continued to study the shoes with a great deal of admiration. You would cherish these shoes with every ounce of care you had left in your heart. 

Two figures stood outside the doorway to the bedroom that you shared with three other girls. Arlecchino had her arms crossed over her chest as she watched you silently. You refused to talk to any of the children, and although the desire to be alone was something she greatly understood, she felt a small ounce of worry settle in her gut. 

If you did not make friends, then you would have no allies… and no allies in a world filled with threats coming at you from every angle meant you were completely alone with no one to help you in times of need. 

Problem children were a common occurrence in any family. You happened to be the newest one on her roster. Your refusal to just about everything was beginning to make her aggravated. She tolerated it the first two weeks because of your upbringing and severe trust issues, but now it was getting out of hand. 

Disobedient children had to be punished. 

“Stop staring daggers into the back of the poor girl’s head.” The pompous voice of her coworker entered her ears. 

Signora crossed her arms over her chest and sent you a sympathetic look. A sigh left her lips. “The poor girl. Another child abandoned by the Wind. If she harnesses that hatred and fuels it into revenge, she—“ 

Arlecchino let out a long sigh and briefly closed her eyes. “She has no need for revenge, Rosalyne. I am merely giving her a home. If she desires to be great, then I will make her great.” 

The blonde woman let out a scoff. “Why am I talking to you like you’re a proper parent? You’re not even twenty years old yet.” She waved Arlecchino off. “No matter. I shall talk to her.” 

With that, Signora sauntered her way into the bedroom. Arlecchino’s eye twitched involuntarily. The two did not get on like close friends, but Arlecchino still respected Signora greatly. She watched as the much older woman knelt down in front of you. 

Maybe her words could finally persuade you to make some friends. 

The sound of footsteps made you look up from your shoes. Your gaze met the icy cold eyes of a mature woman with long blonde hair that reached her knees, and rose colored lips. She wore a long, red and white dress that hugged her curves, with a slit on both sides, exposing her long legs. Her black heels clacked along the marble floor as she came to stand in front of you. 

A large, white coat with black fur lining the hood hung around her shoulders. She was elegant and poised in everything she did, even as she knelt down to be eye level with you. 

Her white earrings jingled at her movement, as did the chains on her winter coat. You did not know why she needed a winter coat when it was currently summer in Fontaine. Surely she had to be sweating right now. 

Her gloved hands came to rest in her lap delicately as a kind smile tugged at her lips. You found it to be somewhat genuine. A trace of uncertainty laid underneath, like she had not smiled in years. 

“My name is Rosalyne,” she spoke, her taunting voice entering your ears, “may I know yours?” 

You hesitated. What was this woman trying to do? Did she want information out of you? You did not have any to give. Why was she here? A friend of your Father’s perhaps? 

“(Name).” You muttered. 

The woman, Rosalyne, nodded. “That's a beautiful name. What does—“ 

“Why are you here?” Your brows narrowed. What was she trying to achieve? 

You barely knew her, and yet you could already read her like a book. She was not as kind as she seemed to be. She was holding up a mask, effortlessly hiding behind it. 

Rosalyne huffed, her annoyance apparent with the slight twitching of her eye. She simply smiled. You were willing to test her patience to see how long she could keep up the nice guy act. 

Instead of allowing her anger to take over, she took a deep breath. Her smile vanished, replaced with a frown that you assumed to be the real her. Her voice grew softer as she spoke.

“I was also born in Mondstadt.” That line alone grabbed your attention. “But I would not consider myself a child of the Wind like other Mondstadt natives.” 

There was a passion in her voice, along with a deep rooted hatred. Every word that left her lips pertaining to the Nation of Freedom was spat out as if she could not even stand the thought, let alone talk about, her home.

You did not love the people of Mondstadt. They treated you like a disease. But the Wind always favored you. You found yourself curling up on the soft grass near the tree in Windrise more often than not. You even considered Windrise your home for a time. 

The fresh breeze was refreshing. It cooled your skin and warmed your heart. It comforted you on nights where you could not stand to survive any longer. It wrapped its arms around you and gently shushed you when you cried. 

You did not love the people of Mondstadt… but you sure as hell loved the Wind and the scenery of your home. You missed the open fields and the jutted cliffs. You missed the wide, cloudless, starry sky and the outline of Celestia in the sky when the moon crossed behind it. 

You missed the afternoon breeze and the tolling of the bells on top of the cathedral. You missed dandelions, and picking fresh berries on sunny days. You would forever miss the atmosphere of the streets of the city, and the lively songs of the bards on each corner. 

But you would never miss the people— their words spat in your face and the way they wanted nothing to do with you. 

Unlike Rosalyne, you still considered yourself a child of the Wind. You thought of yourself as such because of your close connection and love for the Wind. You assumed she did not want to associate herself with the title because of some resentment she harbored towards the Anemo Archon and the people of Mondstadt. 

You were indifferent in your thoughts about the Anemo Archon. What did it matter that he did not rule Mondstadt personally? The people could take care of themselves just fine without the guidance of a god. So why did some harbor hatred towards him for his absence? 

To you, his absence was all you knew. Besides… didn’t he return every harvest season to bless the wine and the land? What more did the people want from him? 

He had always been an absent Archon, as far as you were concerned, and you would much rather have him be absent than be a helicopter parent like Inazuma’s Archon. 

“Do you miss Mondstadt?” you found yourself asking, out of pure curiosity. 

Rosalyne’s pretty gray eyes widened significantly, before she looked away from you. She stood up and took a seat next to you on the neatly made bed. She shimmied out of her winter coat and folded it delicately beside her. She placed her hands in her lap. 

“It has been quite a while since I returned,” she said. Her voice cracked a little, so fleeting you almost missed it. Her shoulders slacked. “But I wouldn’t say I miss it. I do miss the memories I made there… but that was a long time ago. Dwelling on the past won’t do me any good.” 

You looked up at her, studying her stoic expression. There was a hint of sadness that flashed in her eyes, but it was gone as soon as it came. She cleared her throat, regaining her composure. You noticed her shoulders tense once more. 

It seemed as long as she put up that mask, she could not fully relax. 

Her tone switched to one filled with affection. “I have something for you.” She dug through the pocket of her large winter coat and sent you a smug smile. “Close your eyes.” 

Instead of closing your eyes, you opted to turn your head away. You did not trust closing your eyes. The last time someone told you to… —no, you could not remember that now of all times. You wish you could forget it. 

“Hold out your hand.” 

You did as told. Something fluffy was placed into your hand, and you turned around to face her once more. Sitting in your hand was a wolf plush. It had gray fur and black beady eyes. Its tail was bushy, and its snout was long. 

A look of confusion crossed over your face as you looked up to meet Rosalyne’s gaze. A genuine smile rested on her lips as she placed a hand on your shoulder. 

“When your Father told me a child from Mondstadt arrived, I simply had to bring you a gift.” She told you, her voice dripping with affection akin to the kind a mother held for their child. “Since wolves are highly prominent to the nation, I decided on this rather than a Windwheel Aster.” 

Truthfully, you would have loved any gift she gave you.

This was the first time you were ever receiving a gift. To say it touched your heart had been an understatement, as your lip trembled and you broke out into uncontrollable sobs. Is this what it was like to be thought of in a good light? Is this what it was like to be cared for and loved? 

Rosalyne, who barely knew you for more than a half hour, had spent her own time and money on a gift for you when she did not know you yet. 

She panicked a little as you cried, her hands reaching out to grab your shoulders. You could hear her mumble “what should I do” under her breath a few times before she pulled you closer to her and patted you on the back. 

You eagerly wrapped your arms around her middle and dug your face into her side. Her whole body was oddly cold to the touch. A shiver ran down your spine from the severe drop in temperature of her body compared to Arlecchino’s extremely warm one. 

Her bare skin was even colder. The gap in the sides of her dress that revealed her fair skin made that clear. As soon as your arm touched her skin, you pulled it back to rest on the back of her dress. The freezing cold lingered on your own skin for a while after, chilling you to the bone. 

Her awkward pats on your head turned to slow strokes of her fingers through your hair, and her uneasy mutters turned to a soft hum of a lullaby from her lips. Her arms felt secure, like a warm fire in the middle of winter. 

She cradled you as if you were her own, and in a hushed tone, whispered resolutely, 

“We’ll show them. We’ll show them all.” 

© 2024 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[vrmxlho]

bruh i posted my fucking hcs while i was in middle of writing them 😕 anyway here it is copied and pasted:

omg aiku is so fucking ajfsdkhjbf every time i see him i go feral,,,, ALSO YES MORE PEOPLE NEED TO READ GOKURAKUGAI THE ART IS BEAUTIFUL +++ i'm pretty sure this is gonna be ooc because i'm really just making shit up so i apologise in advance lmaoo +++ also im sorry its so short i have no idea what to write 😭

cw: swearing + not proofread because who wants to relive this nightmare??? + probably really ooc but this is my blog so i will do as i please honestly 😒 + suggestive but nothing sexual

LEONARDO LUNA レオナルド・ルナ

his love language is either physical touch or giving gifts

he absolutely adores holding you and he always physically on you, either an arm over your shoulder or a hand on your knee, sometimes he even makes you put your legs on his simply because he likes it that way

but at the same time he is 100% the most infuriating person alive and he prides himself in being annoying

at least he's funny ig

he's constantly teasing you, flirting with you excessively

if he hadn't already told everyone in his life that you were his s/o people would've still been able to guess as much

he's like an annoying puppy who always follows you around asking you to play

he's also incredibly petty, like if you ignore him by mistake or leave him on read because the conversation had ended he's purposefully going to do the same to you

even if the subject of the conversation is actually quite important

nothing can get in the way of his pettiness

"leo, can you please fucking answer me???" he only looked at you briefly before continuing with his stupid hair. it had only been like this for about five minutes but you honestly felt like it had been a century. he was being so fucking annoying. "leonardo luna i swear to god, if you don't fucking answer me this instant i'm going to bash your head in." "i'd still be really attractive though, so i don't really-" "will you please stay on topic for once in your life?" "annoying isn't it?" "THE CONVERSATION HAD ENDED YOU SAID 'OK' AND THAT WAS THE END WHAT ELSE WAS THERE TO ADD????" "you can always add an 'i love you'." "boy. be fucking for real."

forgot to mention that he's also rlly vain

by that i mean he pretends to be vain

he pretend to care about his looks more than he actually does because he thinks its funny

it is sometimes

i am a firm believer that he was one of those kids that was fascinated by the ocean and just any type of water body

he wanted to pursue geography and maybe be a marine biologist before he became a football pro

that's why is his ideal date is renting a boat and going to sea caves to scuba dive in

he insisted on the two of you taking scuba diving lessons together because he wanted to swim with sharks and sea turtles

i feel like he was a summer baby, specifically a leo

because my irl best friend is a leo leonardo

he's also the type to collect shells and make shell necklaces for you

once tried convincing you to change your name to sally and start a seashell business because he thought it would be really funny???

concerning

he's naturally funny but at times he says the dumbest things unironically

his favourite way to destress is to have long bubble baths with you while you both chatter about your day

not necessarily in a sexual way

he just enjoys being physically close to you while also being surrounded by water

leonardo luna was exhausted. you could tell as soon as he entered the house. his usually bright and blindingly positive aura had dulled. his eyes looked distant and he walked with a sway. fatigue made his limbs heavy and he hummed softly before he collapsed on the sofa. "are you okay? leo?" he had already begun snoring slightly when you finally reached him. you chuckled a bit. you wouldn't mind leaving him like this. he looked so cute. his silky hair falling gently on his nose and his cheeks a bit red from the slight chill in the air. but he smelled. reeked of sweat. he must've been too tired to even shower after practice. you weren't about to let him sleep in his sweat, it was simply gross. so first, you tried pulling him off. but not only was he a massive man who weighed a lot more than the usual groceries you carried. he was also resisting making it even harder for you make him budge. so you kissed his forehead, hoping it would wake him up. nothing. this time you pinched him. which worked, because now he was stirring. he opened his eyes which burned with anger and frowned at you. "come have a shower with me." suddenly his eyes were wide and bright again. he basically jumped off the sofa and carried you to the bathroom. he was tired but he didn't mind the extra exhaustion that would come from carrying another human being, since it was you. as soon as you got to the bathroom he basically ripped your clothes off and you were in the shower giving him a massage. then washing his hair and running your hand over his back soothingly. he didn't look tired anymore, it seemed like your presence had woken him up. or perhaps he just didn't want to miss out on your touch. "how was practise?" "couldn't stop thinking about you."

his kisses are always hot and passionate

loves holding your face when he kisses you

as if its the last time he will

he loves how his hands are big enough to hold your entire cheek

your first kiss wasn't awkward at all except for the fact that it was in front of the paparazzi because he loves PDA

unless you genuinely hate it he's always holding your hand in front of the cameras, kissing you, full on making out and everything

is a failure in the kitchen but is surprisingly good at following instructions

you'll never have to cut an onion when he's around!!

real men cry 👍

OLIVER AIKU 愛空

you've made it

you are now dating the hottest man on earth, the biggest playboy in the world has settled down

cuz you're just as hot

but that's exactly what makes him so possessive and jealous

it's not that he doesn't trust you he's just a little insecure, why else do you think he always broke up with his previous flings?

he's scared that if you got to see him for who he really was (as if you haven't already ☠️)

however, whenever he sees you talking to someone he doesn't particularly like he'll come up beside you and pull you close to him by the waist

and if you look uncomfortable he'll literally take you to another setting so you feel better

his love language is words of affirmation!!

he loves hearing how much you love him and how much you wanna spend time with him and how you'd kill for him

but at the same time he absolutely loves teasing you and making you get all flustered

oliver had been feeling down. he didn't really know why. it was 3am and he had this deep pit of despair in his stomach. you looked so peaceful on the bed, sleeping softly and scrunching the blanket up a bit. "how can someone so perfect want to be with me?" "if you're going to be so depressing i might actually break up with you..." you had turned around to stare at him with your tired barely open eyes. you weren't a light sleeper per se but your deep connection to aiku meant that you could feel something was off even if you couldn't see if with your own eyes. "sorry, did i wake you?" he moved back into bed. pulling the sheets over you a bit. "you know i love you right? and i wouldn't even dream about leaving your or whatever you were worrying about." "but-" "no, shut the fuck up. it's late," you pulled his arms around your body and placed yourself right onto his chest, " and i'm cold, so do your job. warm up the bed."

bought you an emerald promise ring after the first date because he instantly fell in love with you and he's suddenly discovered that he was actually a big romantic

(emerald to represent his left eye, left being the side the body your heart is in)

as a playboy, the first date was all a ploy to impress you but also give the impression that he wasn't available so breaking things off or ghosting you wouldn't be a hassle

he took you to a fancy restaurant

for once he wasn't two timing you

anyway after all this he took you to the beach to go on a walk where he asked you if you wanted to go skinny dipping

it was his first challenge, if yes, it would be fun, if no, then he had a reason to break things off with you

but the look of indifference you gave him made him crave more

he could already feel his cheeks heating up and from that day onwards he couldn't stop thinking about you like at all

after you got into an actual relationship you both avoid going back to that restaurant because of just how dull that night was

now your dates consist of going to the arcade, doing some karaoke and then maybe watching a movie while living off of buttery popcorn

he honestly has such a beautiful singing voice

would definitely be an idol if he weren't a footballer

he's a huge ABBA fan i can feel it in my soul

his ideal date is having a picnic by the beach and then playing beach volley until you both decide it's too hot and go for a swim

honestly any summer activity would be his ideal date

oliver aiku was probably breaking countless laws right now. it was the end of summer, the nights were short but warm with the skies clear, starry and gorgeous. aiku wanted to celebrate by firing his homemade fireworks he had spent about 2 months making. and you were certain that this was illegal. but he didn't care. "oli- i don't think this is safe..." "don't worry about it, i'm here to protect you." you could almost hear the smirk he was wearing. "you're no lawyer, i won't be breaking the law with you." "oh you're no fun." he looked at you with fake disappointment. frankly, if you weren't in a good mood you would've just left him to his frolicsomeness but you were also sort of intrigued. you really wanted to see what two months of firework building could get you. "make sure we don't get caught." "i'm no amateur love."

likes pulling your hair when kissing

and he's not one to give one quick kiss and run, they need to be deep every single time

pecks on the lips are meaningless in his eyes

he's also one to engage in PDA

he absolutely loves kissing in front of people he dislikes

to sort of one-up them

kisses you all the fucking time for absolutely no reason

you'd think the novelty would have worn off after being kissed so much but it really doesn't

somehow he keeps getting better at kissing

is he practicing behind your back????? (no, i'm jking)

[sushisocks]

Hey there! I believe you said in another post that the final confrontation would be unlikely to happen if lenny and sean were alive, so i'd like to ask if you could expand on that pls(if u havent already and i just didnt see it lol)

Btw on a side note im actually super invested in your sean content😭😭the fandom seems to only talk ab him to label as an idiot, so as a fellow sean lover the way you characterize him has me so in love❤️❤️❤️❤️

Oh Anon you are SO LOVELY!!! Thank you not only in giving me the opportunity to rant more about Sean and Lenny (which I am always so willing to do), but also for your super kind words!! Sean is very dear to me, and I'm glad my reading into him as much as I do strikes a chord with other people ;;u;;

The way the general fandom often characterizes him isn't very surprising to me, given his personality & the surface level impressions he gives, but maybe for now I'll save THAT rant for another time, else we stay here forever lmaoo

So, to start answering your question, I believe you're talking about my post from a few months ago, where I talk about how I believe Sean & Lenny would've sided with Arthur & John if they'd lived to see the final confrontation. In it I mention how I find that final confrontation a lot more unlikely were Lenny & Sean to survive that far and stick around for the entire thing.

Now, WHY do I believe this? I touch on it briefly in that original post, but let's really get into it here!!

Okay to start off, there's a LOT of ways I see things going, in regards to Sean and Lenny, were they both to survive, because it adds SO MANY variables, but let's start at the very top.

At a meta level, it is important to recognize that RDR2 is a prequel to RDR1. This meant from the get that RDR2, as it is canonically, was bound to a certain outcome, to set up for RDR1. This ALSO means, that every step from the start of RDR2 was very much there not only to lay the groundwork for the end of RDR2 but also add another emotional layer to RDR1. This is all certainly things we are aware of already, but I think it's important to have that context in mind while we talk about alternative outcomes.

Because, see, Sean and Lenny HAD to die for the outcome in RDR2 to be the one it is. Not only them, but Hosea, Kieran, Molly, and Susan's deaths are ALL integral and important to the story, they ALL make a difference and contribute in pushing the story a certain way, and in reinforcing the steadily increasing hopelessness which infest the gang from Sean's death and out.

So if we're like "what if none of them died?" there are suddenly a LOT of new variables for every mission and every scenario we know from the game, which need to be considered. This is true EVEN if the change in survival count is only reduced to Lenny & Sean.

How different do you not think Shady Belle would have felt, initially, without Sean's death hanging over it? What about the bank job -- would Lenny & Sean end up on the boat to Guarma? What would've happened to them there, then? Would either of them be caught by the Pinkertons instead, with John or in his stead maybe? What other options would there have been, where would they end up at the end of that?

And already here we have to consider how those experiences might've impacted them psychologically, because of who they are.

In the post I mentioned earlier, I talk about how Lenny is new to the gang and probably isn't as stuck in it mentally as Arthur and John, nor do Sean and Lenny have the same emotional attachment/baggage in regards to Dutch. They're loyal of course, because they feel a sense of obligation to the gang, because it provides them with safety, friends, and allies, in an otherwise unkind world.

But what then happens when that changes?

How do you expect Sean and Lenny to respond when the gang starts turning on itself? When Dutch visibly starts losing it? When people start snapping at each other and threatening one another in the middle of camp?

(I have a half-formed thought here about how people would ABSOLUTELY be snapping and talking down to Sean in a way more cruel way towards the end of the game, for trying to keep things light and easy, yknow, fulfilling his role in the gang. I can only imagine what that'd end up doing to him, tbh.)

And, I'll be repeating myself from other posts here, but how do you think Lenny, a young black man painfully aware of the social structure as it exists in America at that point in time, would react to realizing what Dutch's plan with the Wapiti is? Same goes for Sean, who has SEVERAL instances through the game showing him just as politically aware as Lenny - certainly moreso than Arthur.

Would the outcome for the Wapiti tribe be the same, do you think, if Charles had more people than a very sick and tired Arthur to lean on, willing to help? Would Lenny in particular want to stick around to see Dutch attempt to drive the tribe into the ground for his own gain?

Also, I'm sorry but like, Lenny has a camp interaction with Dutch where he disagrees with him (about Miller, Dutch's favorite author) and explains why in a very well-articulated manner. In one instance, Dutch gets straight up offended by it, bcz Lenny can argue very well (and is RIGHT mind you lol).

I do absolutely believe that Lenny would not just sit around quietly in Beaver Hollow. I'd expect him to be among the most vocal in their discontent with the situation, and probably the best at arguing against Dutch.

That is, up until a certain point. Lenny is a young black boy, and Dutch is a white authority figure. Watch Dutch snap and yell at him, like he does John in Ch6 for example, and see how much longer Lenny sticks around fr. The trade is loyalty for safety and the same in kind. Why do you think members start leaving when things start looking their worst? And don't you think Lenny would be among the first to see the writing on the wall?

Though that is hinging on that very specific vibe in Beaver Hollow, where they're all scattered and losing their ties to one another. Add then in Sean, who is VITAL as social glue, and for making conversations easier. If he, and Lenny, and Mary-Beth, Tilly, Arthur, Charles, etc etc, insert your favorites here, managed to retain some of that community feeling, despite it all, then I absolutely see Lenny sticking around for them.

Same goes for Sean, tbh. I can see him leaving earlier, bcz the trade stops being equal and bcz he's not being taken seriously, and I can see him staying, for his friends.

There IS also a version of things where things are similar and I do see Sean siding with Dutch; but that is a very sad and lonely Sean, who is VERY different from where he's at in Clemens Point, and I think that's an unfair perspective to take for him in general.

Okay so, now we're back to that final confrontation, after I said I found it unlikely, why is that? Because, with every question I've posed thus far, about what Lenny & Sean's reactions might've been to canon events after their deaths, I have essentially presented a variable that comes with their survival to those points. Them being there for it, HAS to mean a change, has to mean something different happens, because their deaths are direct contributors to the path we already know the story takes WITHOUT their presences.

Now, what are those differences and changes? I honestly can't answer; something being different earlier or later can butterfly-effect into something completely new or remarkably similar to what we already know. I could sit here all day and wax poetic about all the different options and possibilities for where things could go, were ANY character to survive past their death point, BUT thankfully, that is what fanfiction is for, lol.

I hope this satisfied some of your curiosity, dear anon!! It was a lot of fun for me to write and think about, so thank you very much for asking!!!

[mariska]

hi queer friends in my phone i hope u have all been having an ok month so far 💖 im sorry i havent been online very much lately, its like 80% just me being forgetful except to hop on my phone app for like ten mins to browse my dash and reblog something and get distracted by another non phone related activity LOL. my bestie Eli is here still until the rest of the month and we finished our rewatch (their first watch, my like......who even knows the specific numbered rewatch) of Avatar The Last Airbender a couple days ago and that was very fun and exciting, it was wild getting to those last few episodes in the final season and just totally getting brought back to being a kid in my head when the show was actively airing on tv and i was sitting in my bedroom exploding from sheer special interest excitement watching the story wrap up on the super small box tv i used to have like 15+ years ago 😭🫡 we haven't started watching Legend Of Korra yet since we just finished ATLA and need to like. take a lil Avatar media break before jumping into another entire finished series fhdhdhsfsshhgd but excited for whenever we start that too!! Eli showed me a fav movie of theirs the other night called Thoroughbreds and i REALLY liked it, fellow toxic yuri enjoyers i truly cannot recommend that one enough those girls have Problems In Abundance and i love that for them and also me.

OH OH OH ALSO on my birthday after we got home from out of house activities we watched that Nic Cage movie 'Dream Scenario' that i've wanted to see so bad since the first trailer for it dropped online a while back, and i am truly not just being dramatic when i say i think that is my favorite movie i've seen this year and it will be Difficult for another movie to win over that 2024 Fav Spot in my mind, it was exactly what i wanted it to be and MUCH MORE LMAOO IT WAS SO GODDAMN FUNNY. very specifically Me And Eli's Kinda Stupid Sense Of Humor throughout the whole run time we were fuckin losing it at every other scene. that was a wonderful lil birthday treat.

also the antique mall we were gonna go to ended up being closed on the day of my birthday so we went to a big mall off-Cape that i like instead and have been to a few other times for past birthdays cus they actually have a bunch of different types of stores with stuff i actually enjoy unlike the more local mall we have here that is 100% dying a slow agonizing Mall Death lmao. went to Build-A-Bear and they had that one bear style in stock that literally just looks like a femme lesbian with the lesbian flag colors and perfect lil eyeliner so i made a Chappell Roan inspired pop star outfit wearing lesbian colored bear (saw someone else online do that a lil while back with the same style i chose so i couldn't resist doing it myself when i saw it was at the store hfsfgsvsgshshdg) and the ppl working there that day were all super chill and friendly and most likely around me and Eli's age or maybe a few yrs younger than us, the person who helped me make my bear specifically was really friendly and fun to talk with cus while we were in there it was pretty much just us and the employees for the majority of the time, he like immediately picked up on me being A Very Obvious Femme Lesbian on account of The Femme Lesbian Bear and also The Very Over The Top Femme Alt Outfit I Was Wearing and we chatted abt being gay and trans while he was stuffing the bear it was such a genuinely sweet and wonderful interaction, he was also autistic and we got to briefly bond over Build-A-Bear being mutual life long autistic special interests of ours and he seemed rly happy to hear that i was turning 27 that day and was still actively wanting to spend birthdays making custom stuffed animals there it was just really great all around 😭💕 also before the mall closed later on we did a quick stop at the FYE store that was there (i always get very excited when i see a still active FYE store anywhere cus it was a childhood fav place of mine to shop but our local mall closed ours when i was a teenager lol) and there was a small stand set up with some ATLA merch and i got a fully functional Momo backpack/crossbody style bag that i am so incredibly psyched about having fjdgedfdhsshfg it is very cute. and anyone who knows me knows i love adding a silly lil functional novelty bag to my collection of silly lil novelty bags. so it will be getting much use from me out in the world

anyways!!! thats pretty much what i've been up to, just figured i would hop on and write a mariska life update so everyone here knows i didnt just like. drop off the face of the earth lol

[arlecchno]

lmao the blonde parts are supposed to be teal but i havent had a chance to redye them in foreverr … also yes ! my xiao jacket ! its not the only one out there though LOL

the wall youre seeing is actually my best friend roofs long lost sibling , wall /j

BEFORE 6 !? i could never i always go to bed at like 12am …. im so sleep deprived on school days lol

ME AND THAT FRIEND DID SO MANY SILLY THINGS IN OUR MATH/STEM CLASS LMAO we used to play genshin wish sim (im very young T_T) and say weird things to summon characters (i told the computer id help make kaeya dilucs brother again to get diluc , and BOTH OF THEM CAME HOME IN THE SAME PULL) tbh ive always complained ab stairs so ,,, i cant even take the stairs in my building anymore bc i live on the 9th floor itd take way too long 😭

we have a lot of the same top 5s , kaeya , diluc , and scara share #1 because … yes . my favorite gal is fischl i love her sm -

i have 11 5*s (not including aloy) , and im currently pulling for sir acting grand scribe himself ! im at around late 30 pity , if he does / doesnt come home i will make self ship art because i dont think he would like that >:)

GOOD TO KNOW ITS GOING WELL im actually making notes for a fic i wanna write on call w my previously mentioned friend roof LOL ive had the idea ever since the nilotpala cup event , i really wanted to make like an actual fic based off of it bc that girl from the yae publishing house was supposed to or wtv HAHAH but im procrastinating on a title so im just . UGH - yk ?

i did have a good day both the day you replied and today ! i am injured but its not bad (only hurts when i move certain ways) , i went on a field trip for school today and got to go in a ✨stream✨ and pick up a little crawfish >:D i hope youre doing good as well !! its so nice talking to you lmao youre so cool

i might start sending doodles every ask , so heres a sketch of my genshin oc !!

my “question” issss guess what region theyre from ! or who they live with LOL the hint is that there are already playables from their region , and there are technically two regions theyre from ?? you can guess just one though ill give you the answer next ask :P

- jellyfish

i think it's because i'm already used to waking up early... even tho i'm a very sleep deprived student that sleeps at 12-1 and wakes up at 5 😔 i'm fairly a light sleeper so no matter what time i sleep, whenever my alarm goes off i'm always up by the second 🥲

and LMAOO i've played a ton of those wish sims to prevent myself from rolling whenever i'm saving up for a character, it works wonders

i didn't really expect you to like fischl!!! i like using her in events where we have her as a trial character lol using oz in her burst and flying around is so silly but i always have fun with it!

seems like we're both on the run for alhaitham :D currently have 72 pity and he still has yet to arrive... i do not have a guarantee whatsoever so the next time i pull i'm gonna be praying for him to come home 😔 i've already explored most of the new area for him

and that fic idea sounds interesting! i briefly forgot about that event so when you mentioned it i'm suddenly reminded of how fun playing with the fungi was!! hope you'll find many inspiration for your supposed title, and who knows, next thing you know you're hitting the post button for your fic 🤭

hope you're healing well from your injury also!! have lots of rest and don't overexert yourself too much, resting is very important hehe

it's nice to know that you went on a field trip :O i haven't been to one in a while so hearing it from you reminded me how fun it always is to go on one and escape school (tbf i think we can agree at least half of the students that volunteer on field trips only do it to skip classes LMAO #guilty)

i think if i had to guess, it's a mix between mondstadt and sumeru, maybe? i'm either really wrong or really right since my basic skills of knowledge on each regions' outfits are very minimal 😵‍💫

a question for you; how was your week? tell me all about it!! hehe i honestly like hearing people talk about their day and week because it's undeniably so interesting to know what others have been up to and how different some people's lives can be from ours! hope i'm not rambling too much... i just really like listening to people talk and talk about their life

[limeade-l3sbian]

Random but how do you react when people argue with you/get angry with you in real life? I’ve noticed that every time someone very clearly wants to argue with me or gets super in my face, I just get really tired and wanna sleep, lmao. And if i’m the one getting angry it’s super brief? Not to say I forgive easily or anything but more like my anger when it happens only happens briefly and intensely and after that i’m just not in that moment anymore, which can be kinda awkward especially if the other person is also just getting more and more fired up. And back to the people wanting to argue with me, I think i’ve sometimes made others even angrier with how I react to their anger because I genuinely just look on them either blank faced or kinda wide eyed because I rarely give the same energy back. And that, i’m aware, can come across as somehow even more confrontational and mocking, even if it’s just because of the opposite. Like I know I unintentionally probably can come across as one of those “let’s remain rational and not let our emotions cloud our arguments🤓☝️” type of people, but that’s really not what I mean. I just somehow have such a hard time reacting with anger to others anger.

I can relate to this very hard. I saw this ask a little earlier and was trying to think about the last time I got into a fight with someone, or even just a light argument.

I think with the way I grew up, and how angry I was back then, I don't have the means to really get upset in a way that can be seen. Like you said, I don't tend to react as far as expressions. My tone is my sole indicator since I usually have a very flat, somewhat bored voice, even when I'm happy lmao. But when I'm mad, there is a certain level of bass and sharpness that I've been told comes through. Not like "the devil gets scared when I'm mad" lmaoo. You're not going to talk to me any kind of way and I need you to know that.

I think it can be a little jarring for people in my life (outside of my family) because my irl disposition is incredibly subdued. I know that I've given the impression to people IRL and on here that you can say what you want to me an I'll just be like, "Hey, come on, friend..! :("

If I'm wrong, I just apologize. The pride shit is annoying to me and I don't get it. If you break down how I've wronged you, I'd rather just apologize or say, "That's not how I meant it, but if that's how it came off, then I am sorry."

I prefer peace, but a peace founded on resolution, not in the name of avoiding conflict.

[riverstardis]

hearts and flowers:

it’s valentine’s day

lmaoo robyn overhears jacob flirting with connie sjskdkf

grace! with sam’s girlfriend😬

ethan’s avoiding cal and cal gets him a coffee and he’s like “oh yeah cause that’ll fix everything”😭

“you’re going to have to talk to him sooner or later. your mother’s ill” “my mother died two years ago, charlie” right! it really annoys me how charlie just expects ethan to suddenly consider emilie a mum more than he does matilda like??? cal has had so much longer to come to terms with all this but now that cal has started to build something of a relationship with emilie charlie acts as if ethan should be at that point too??? and what else i don’t understand is that charlie was the one constantly telling cal to tell ethan and i presumed that that was because he knew it would be worse for both of them the longer he went without telling him but apparently i presumed wrong because now charlie’s acting like ethan’s response to finding out after cal kept it a secret for well over a month is unreasonable

sam👎🏼strachan👎🏼

wait just remembered jac’s in this ep! this is ep i screenshotted for a casualty as text posts the other week

cal’s patient is telling him how he was trying to tell a girl how he’d changed or something and she shut the door on his hand and cal tells him if he wants to prove he’s changed he should keep trying until she knows it ummm🤨

jac! jac :(

mmmm milfs

connie and jac’s sexual tension😳

“look, i was gonna tell you about emilie, i just didn’t think you were ready” “oh what so you were protecting me is that it?” “yes” “it’s about you cal it’s always about you” “oh not this again. or maybe i just didn’t want you wimping out on me like you always do” aand they start fighting sjskdkfj

it’s funny how every time they have a physical fight ethan’s the one who initiates it but that’s only because cal knows exactly how to push him to that point

cal’s like “you were the one who told me to come clean” to charlie. cal mate if you’d come clean when charlie told you to maybe you wouldn’t be holding your crotch in pain right now

imagine you’re at the hospital and your doctor goes and comes back having obviously been in a fight sjskdkkf

and of course cal’s patient who he was encouraging to not give up turns out to be ethan’s patient’s ex husband who was stalking her

connie says she can’t operate on sam’s girlfriend because she’s a heart surgeon but when she ends up having to do it anyway she’s like get jac naylor down here to assist but like… jac is also a heart surgeon??

lmaooo max goes on a date with a woman called zara who looks a lot like zoe

ahh now zoe and max are snogging

lmaoo cal going to ethan “you and me should team up, fight crime. i’ll even agree to be the sidekick”

then he apologises and says let me buy you are beer or something and ethan’s like “why? so you can tell me that you’ll change? that you’ll stop lying to me? stop pushing me around?” “hey you took a swing at me first” “yeah, because it’s been like that our whole lives and i’m sick of it. i am so tired of feeling like this” :(

ethan says cal’s on his own and he’s not his brother anymore :( this is not the first time he’s tried to disown him though is it sjskkj he always ends up forgiving him and then cal goes and hurts him again and the cycle repeats

remember when stevie was making fun of ethan’s shirts when they briefly became friends before the stabbing? imagine if she saw the cardigans he used to wear over them sndkfkkffkk i mean she could have given that the first time they meet is actually only a few weeks away from this point but presumably she didn’t see him out of scrubs so

[thesolotomyhan]

amado carrillo fuentes as a dad would include

a/n: hehe slowly coming back because heres my soft ass dropping this long hc for you guys, im so in love with preggo/dad hcs yall im sorry pls love me-

Taglist: @fandomnerd16​ @visintaes​ @sheeshgivemeabreak​  @artemiseamoon​ @yvngfirefly​ 

let me know if you want to be tagged!​

ok so,, we’ve briefly already gone over some ideas of amado being a dad and in some sense how he would be when your pregnant-

but let’s refresh some points here and there yeah? because im SOFT at the thought of amado becoming a dad and the fucking HEART EYES DE TONTIN he would always have looking at you-

just listen- ok because the very moment amado knew about his kid’s existence growing inside of you-

this man was instantly wrapped around their little finger right then and there,, he just grew an attachment with them from then on alright

like im just imagining him always talking to your stomach every single night he possibly can,,

giving it little kisses, his other hand caressing your stomach like “8 mas meses mi amor, hasta que yo y tu mami te podemos abrazar” i

like :(( i can see him whispering to your stomach at 3 in the morning, thinking your asleep as he gently whispers to his bebe about anything and everything when he cant sleep-

and like hed just talk about if his kid is going to be a girl hes just over here saying something like “si dios quiere bendecirme, saldras igualita a tu mama, de hermosa y inteligente-” i cannot

dios mio- he just screams overprotective,, like if you thought he was protective before with you, that is nothing compared to the amount of extraness hes taking when youre pregnant,,

like hes going to be duplicating your security so much even if youre just going to the store down the block for 1 thing- youre going to be even more untouchable than the president- hes not taking any chances-

when hes with you,, my god hes just doing the MOST,

like he hates it if people look at you for more than 5 seconds because hes already snapping back at them like- “qUE CABRON, te gusto algo o que? no te traje para que te le quedes mirando a mI ESPOSA ASI-” i

he would also never let you do things on your own when hes there, it doesnt matter if youre 6 weeks pregnant or 7 months pregnant, hes not letting you move a single muscle because hes already going to be doing it for you-

doesn’t matter if all you have to do is move your arm to open the door- his ass is already opening it, holding you by the small of your back :((

but also the cravings?? dear god- I swear he gets them more than you do

because when your craving donuts or something at 2 in the morning hes over here snapping his fingers and sending his men out the moment you so as much think about it-

“órale pues, hijos de su reshingada madre, ya escucharon, traigan a mi esposa sus 3 cajas de pan” lmaoo when literally all you wanted was one but ya le sacaste las ganas a el-

just :(( he would love to eat cravings with you all the time so you dont feel bad :( its one of his favorite things to do- i cant 

and listen- the AVIONETA TOYS!!

its something that i know he would do as a dad :( like him collecting all these different toys while youre pregnant,, organizing them around his kid’s room :(

so when his kid is older they can play with them with like these matching pjs he bought :(((

just wanting his kid to be able to be interested in the things that amado likes to do- its BONDING ok dont look at me-

but also this baby mobile he got for his kid,, with like these little airplanes hanging from them,,

woW :( i cry at the thought of him playing around with it everytime he walks into the room,, just imaging the moment when he’ll be able to look down and see his angelito sleeping i :((

he just gives me so much soft vibes of wanting to try to always be apart of his kid’s life growing up,,

just never wanting to leave your side either because dear god if something were to happen to you or his kid before he ever gets to meet them-

its going to be like juarez never existed in the first place,, hes just always going to be right there next to you as much as physically possible,,, god- it only gets increases when his kid is finally born-

this mf never shuts up about you and his baby,,

like probably ranting for hours to acosta about it like, “nada, cabron, nada se siento mejor que poder por fin alzar a mi hijo/a, pinshi hermoso creatura que mi esposa me dio-“ :((

AHh,,wait can you fucking imagine you making acosta the padrino,,:( because ??

like even though he cant stand when amado doesnt shut up,, nothing beat the feeling the day he met your kid,, just happier than ever that you chose him to look over them:(((

i am laughing at the thought of acosta always walking up to amado whenever he has your kid,,

his voice going all light like “buenos dias, donde esta mi nino/a favorito?!” and just taking his kid out of his arms,, spinning them around, completely ignoring amado all together as he starts to walk away-loL probably while still talking to your kid and offering them candy :(

god- since we’re here his kid would literally want to be around amado all the time,, wanting his attention,, i just !!

imagine amado convincing you so that he can take his kid to work or something- i

the smile on his face because his kid is over here in his arms pointing at all the planes like “papi!! mira, that one looks like my stuffed airplane at home” little finger pointing excitedly- i cannot

but he would never, never mention anything about his business in front of them for your sake but also because he doesnt want to ever be the bad guy in his kids eyes alright :(

also im so sorry in advance but if he had a daughter that little girl would fucking OWN his heart- his princessa de todos los cielos :((( NO IM NOT CRYING

ayY but if he had a son, i just know he would dress him up in all black like su papi:(( a LITTLE CUERVITO version- oh my god :(

he would be such a fucking pushover dad too- like always reading them bedtime stories, giving into them no matter what,, getting them these big ass surprise presents every time he comes home from the airstrip,, just CONSINTIENDO HIS NINOS all the time-

like:( hold on just imagine on some days you coming from the kitchen after making some dessert for your ninos and amado but finding them all passed out on your bed:(((

like your daughter on top of his chest and your son curled into his side,, both of them holding their favorite stuffed toy, their little hands holding onto his shirt -I SOB

i just- i can see him also being the dad that would hold his kid above him,, carefully tossing them in the air

his laughs mixing in with their little fucking giggles as he brings them down to his face to kiss them every time :((((

i don’t know- im just so soft at the idea of him walking around the house or his work with his kid on his hip :((-

or him distracting his ninos while you cook breakfast for them- i just might about sob if i keep going

oh fuck- or every morning before he leaves to go work, he comes into their bedroom,, kissing the top of their heads,, moving their messy hair out of the way :((

probably prays a little thing- like for nothing bad to happen to you or his kids while hes gone for the day:( i

:(( no offense but i cannot handle the thought of him picking them up in their blanket in the morning,, his kid still sleeping and bringing them into your bed so youre all together when you wake up- his soft fucking smile while he tucks them into you :((((

becasue THATS HIS FAMILIA- the one hes always dreamed about having- 

wow um- but hes definitely the type of dad that would build his kids a whole ass park in the backyard for them-

like his kids wanting a swimming pool with a water slide? You bet your ass hes going to build one,, im :((

wow ok but if his son was into soccer or his daughter into ballet or something and theyre practicing at home-

i can see him being the dad that would sit there, smile on his fucking face,, praising them while they practice,, ugHH just him telling you about the improvements they made while he watched them-  i

god- please don’t get me started how he’ll always go to school plays/sports with you just so he can feel orgulloso thats his kid out there performing-

why am i crying at the thought of him having this picture of you and your kids with him wherever he goes, like his buena suerte or something- im SORRY i CANT

or him calling you every day when hes at work,, wanting to hear your voice but also hear the moment his kids scream “WE LOVE YOU DADDY!!” :(

i just- every night,, him always telling you how he would never change you and his kids for anything in the world like- “sabes, dios me bendicio de que tu fueras la mama perfecta para mis hijos-” goodbye i need to go cry

[just-a-creep-babe]

Kinktober Day 14

Alex Kralie: Gun Play

Ok so this is the first time I try writing for Alex n it’s been a hot minutes since I’ve watched mh so I am sO damn sorry if it’s ooc or just,, kinda weird lmaoo

Also, this one’s a lot more angsty than it is smutty 👉👈

~Requests are closed~

Masterlist: x

Any tips are greatly appreciated!

You didn’t know what to expect when—no, if you ever found him again

But it most certainly wasn’t this

Things were different now, that much was a given, but you didn’t realize just how much they’d changed

“A-Alex, please, we can talk about this—”

Your words are shaky, and god, you wish you had the confidence to trust him, but it’s hard to trust someone pointing a gun to your head

“There’s nothing to talk about, (y/n). I tried to warn you. You shouldn’t have come”

His voice, a stark contrast to yours, is firm and rigid, and leaves no room for argument

But you’ve known him long enough to recognize those faint slivers of doubt laced in his tone when he has them

You take in a deep, steadying breath, your fingers twitching either side of your head, which you’d pulled up in surrender

And then you take a leap of faith and lower your hands back down to your sides

“Alex. Come back”

Your eyes are pleading—begging—because you know deep down, he’s still the man you once knew and loved

Your heart’s pounding

Desperation feels cold and slick against your skin in the warm night air

You try not to stare down the barrel of the loaded pistol

There’s an uncertain wavering of his finger against the trigger, and then he’s pursing his lips, his brows furrowing

“Fuck it”

He drops the weapon, and relief like no other comes crashing into you

Though it’s almost laughably short-lived as he rapidly stalks towards you, and you’re honest-to-god not sure what to feel

It’s only when his lips smash against yours that your defenses are finally breached for good

You quietly let yourself moan against him, pulling him closer against you, melting into him; so weak and eager for a touch you haven’t felt in far, far too long

You’re breathless by the time you pull away, and the way you tilt your head back to pull in some sweet oxygen grants him the perfect opportunity to move to your neck

The familiarity of it has your stomach twisting in knots

Your dig your fingers into his shoulders, pressing him flush against you, needing the distance between you to be nonexistent

It’s only when he brings his hands to your hips do you feel the cold, hard steel barrel poke against your thighs

You freeze at the contact, and he notices

His lips stop teasing at your throat and he pulls away

The gun’s tilted up into view, it’s polished steel glinting as it catches light from the nearby street lamp

How oddly fitting to have a gun between the both of you, all things considered

“Do you trust me, (y/n)?” he murmurs

Trust

It’s always about that little thing, isn’t it?

“Why...” you hesitate, shaking your head, “Why do you think I came all the way out here? Why would I follow you as far as I have for as long as I have to end up not trusting you, Alex?”

“I... I’ve... I’ve seen what that—that thing is,” you continue, “I’ve seen what it’s done. It’s torn my life apart as much as it has yours—and countless others. I don’t blame you for anything”

“And I’m tired,” you finally admit, “I’m tired of the paranoia, the guilt, the trust issues. I don’t want to keep living like this. I just... I want you back. And I’ll do whatever it takes to have you back because you’re the last damn thing I have. And I won’t let it take you away from me”

“So, yes, I trust you,” you confess, “I trust you with every shred of trust I have left”

It’s suddenly a lot harder to read what he’s feeling

How you wish you could reach into his chest and tug out whatever it is that’s holding him back, just so that he could see things the way you see them

He tilts the weapon to the side, almost as if he’s inspecting it

And then all of a sudden, he’s aiming it at you again and you’re right back where you started, playing that tug-of-war game with the monsters lurking inside him

You tense up, an inaudible gasp knocking the wind from your lungs

But then you realize it’s now or never

Trust; such a tiny, monumental thing

You part your lips and slowly, ever so gently, wrap them around the barrel of the gun

He’s surprised, that much is easy to tell

But so are you, in all fairness

He swallows thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing, and then his eyes darken as he nudges more of it deeper into your mouth

You do your best to work your tongue and lips against it, tasting the cold metal and feeling it warm up beneath your ministrations

You play with a bit more in your mouth before he takes it out, admiring the way you’ve slicked it with your saliva

And then his mouth is on yours again

Hungry

So, so very hungry for the taste of love and comfort and security

The rounded tip of the weapon trails down your neck, between the valley of your breasts and down your body, moving to your thighs before slowly inching between your legs, always giving you plenty of time to back away throughout

You wrap your hands around his shoulders and press him all the closer into you

When it finally settles, you find yourself grinding down onto it, the length pressing almost perfectly along your covered slit

His tongue finds yours and it sets off every one of your nerve endings on fire

You rock your hips against the loaded weapon, muscles tensing and core fluttering every time it hits your clit

The kiss breaks as you release a quiet, shaky moan

And he takes the opportunity to look down at the way you’re moving against the barrel, and though he bites his lip, you can still hear the barely audible hushed groan it has him making

A twitch of his fingers and you’d be done for

Trust; nature’s finest irregularity

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

You know him well enough to understand what he’s really asking

“Yes”

With a final, almost shuddering sigh, he pulls the gun from your eager form and stuffs it back into his pants

You take notice of the other prominent bulge next to it

“I’m staying at a hotel a few kilometres away” his eyes soften, if only briefly

“You can back out whenever you like” he continues “but once you leave, you better not come back”

You toy with your bottom lip

Your body’s still buzzing, on a high you haven’t felt in a long, long time

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving”

[sickadelia]

hey 'delia, it's me. eddedneddy. i've got a question for you.

so imagine this. there's a guy, right. he breaks into your house, gun to your head, asks you to pick 3 records out of your collection. just 3. the gun is real and it's an alternate reality in which people can just legally break into people's houses and make them pick records, so there's no loophole out of this. you get to keep those, but he's gonna stomp on every other record you own so the three you pick have to be worth the anguish.

I'm that guy right now. which records do you choose bestie

hi bestie eddedneddy!!!! as terrified as i am by this scenario, your interest in The Record Collection makes me want to scream and cry in the best way possible (insert paragraph about how much i love you here), so let's get into this because i have a gun to my head!!!! also, quick moment of silence for the 550 albums that are about to be stomped into oblivion.

(sorry this is mostly gonna be unedited rambles ecksdee. but thats just how i work)

1. xtc- white music (1978)

starting off strong, establishing my weirdo music taste pretty quickly. i have a weird thing for debut albums that are totally different from the rest of the band's discography, probably because they have a scrappy, unpolished charm. i feel this way about a lot of bands, especially cheap trick. btw, please listen to cheap trick self-titled, it's so good. oh wait i have a gun to my head-

ANYWAY, xtc. a british 80s "new wave" band who are best known for the song "making plans for nigel" and their stuff from 1979 to 1989. their sound during their peak is pretty guitar-oriented and bouncy, but little do many people know that they briefly had a- drumroll please- crazy post-punk keyboard phase!!! woah!!! from 1978 to 1979, they had a guy named barry andrews playing the lo-fi 70s keyboard, and they released two albums with him before he peaced out to form the band shriekback, which is also pretty cool. white music is the first of these two albums, and has sooo much of that scruffy "we don't really know what's happening" energy, i love it so much.

i was obsessed with xtc one summer a few years ago, and while i do love all of their stuff and own pretty much all their albums, their more successful 80s guitar stuff really can't compare to the barry andrews keyboard era. the guitar era is much more polished and professional, but andy partridge's scratchy guitar paired with andrews' squealy synthesizers gives it a very "sharp" feeling. to give you some imagery, this album sounds like what it feels like to walk on a pathway made of nails. in a good way of course. i dunno if there's a positive way to walk on nails, but humour me and imagine.

partridge, who is xtc's de facto leader and the primary songwriter, has said that his style was inspired by comic books, sci-fi, and pop art. ignoring how cool that sounds for a sec, i think that really shows the most on this album, whereas the rest of their catalogue is just "oh weird thingy haha", and is a little more restrained and, like i said, polished. but white music FEELS and SOUNDS like pop art, bursting with all this neon, bright-coloured energy and what have you. it's one of those "aesthetics" that you can't really describe, but you could easily make a pinterest board for. everything about it is so ECCENTRIC!! i feel like it's hard to find anything else like this out there, whereas their later stuff (WHICH I STILL LIKE BTW)

also, quick funny little story: during the "xtc summer" i was a stupid kid who had just gotten her first job and was weirdly loaded with cash, so i just spent all of it ordering random albums off discogs marketplace LMAOO. i managed to track down every single barry andrews xtc ep and album, and they were og uk pressings which took forever to arrive. and i kid you not, not even a WEEK after they all arrived, i saw copies of every single one of them in a record store 10 min from my house. for 10 bucks ea. i was about to burn the damn place down.

- favourite songs: statue of liberty, neon shuffle, i'll set myself on fire, spinning top, into the atom age

2. beastie boys- paul's boutique (1989)

a strange deviation from the theme we had going on there, but my music taste basically does not exist. if a song has a good beat then i like it........ unless it's country music. country sucks.

my love of the beastie boys is kinda weird, because i got into them when i had an utter distaste for any music made after 1985, especially rap and hip hop. this is because i was a stubborn little greaseball who knew absolutely nothing about what hip hop actually was, thinking it was just some lil pump shit or something. but when i heard hey ladies for the first time, everything about hip hop clicked in my brain, and it's been one of my favourite genres of music ever since. while i do like rap, the way that hip hop utilizes samples and how they work together with the flow of the MCs is actual art.

anyone who knows me well knows that i am absolutely obsessed with sampling and the work that goes into it, and this album is what got me into obsessively researching every single sample i hear on a song i like. before this, i had no clue that most of hip hop backtracks were taken from other songs, and that method of "stealing" cool parts of other songs and making it into one big song collage was so fascinating to me. some madlad on youtube made an "every paul's boutique sample" video on youtube, and i think i watch it once every month or something. the dust brothers are such fabulous producers, and the way they seamlessly layer and swap out samples makes my brain explode.

AND THE BEASTIES THEMSELVES!! *sighs wistfully* oh, the beasties. on their debut/previous album they were lowkey annoying (SORRY I DO LIKE LICENSED TO ILL, IT JUST GETS A LIL TIRING AFTER A WHILE!!!), but finding their footing and mixed with all the samples here, they just sound so effortlessly cool. they totally sell the whole thing, it's a nice mix of vulgarity and chill (if that makes sense). their flow and style of swapping from guy to guy is so well-done, i just!!! i love it so much!!! i've always wanted to make a beasties animation, cos their raps just have such strong flow and energy that are very well suited to that medium. they are just such huge balls of personality, and their strong friendship really shows in the music. imo they're underrated, idc if they technically aren't underrated, I AM DYING ON THIS HILL. also rip mca i miss you sm </3

i've been into the beasties for a while, and i think i've had a different fav album of theirs each year, but i think paul's boutique is my actual fav forever. it hypes you up and makes you feel super cool, whether you're driving with your dad to the grocery store or walking downtown wearing a super awesome outfit. you just crank the volume up to 11 and enjoy yourself babey!! GET FUNK-AY!!!!

- favourite songs: 3 minute rule, car thief, the sounds of science, shake your rump, egg man, b-boy bouillabaisse

3. todd rundgren- a wizard, a true star (1973)

saved this one for last, because this is the only one that i would pick to be saved without even thinking about it. if you were gonna stomp 552 of my records into oblivion and only let me keep one, it would be this one, and it's because i don't think i'd be the same person i am today if this album didn't exist. for REAL. todd rundgren (the world's most underrated producer, songwriter, guitarist, music video innovator, etc...) is my favourite artist FOREVER OF ALL TIME and i love all of his albums to the moon and back, but i have such a blatant bias towards awats that i dont really listen to his other stuff that much (LOL)

knowing all that i do about him (because ive read his wikipedia article 500 times and own two books about him, including his lowkey terrible autobio), i think the thing that draws me the most to todd is his absolute "i dont give a fuck" attitude. for his entire career, he's basically just done whatever the hell he wants and not really cared about what makes the most money or appeals to the most people. if everyone's eating bananas, he's painting a carrot green and then gluing googly eyes onto it. in short, he's the type of person who purely makes music- and content in general- for himself, and i really think that awats shows that in the best way. he had great commercial success with his prev album something/anything, and had a huge new audience of pop radio listeners that were eager to hear more sappy soft rock or whatever. and you know what he does? guess. yeah, you got it, he makes a bonkers psychedelic trip prog-electronic fusion album that completely alienates his entire new normie fanbase, and then goes on an unintelligible prog tangent for the rest of the 70s, to the point where you'd have to be a pretty dedicated fan to stay interested (i am. i love the prog era. todd and initiation fuck).

awats is just kinda... unapologetic. before this todd had "fuck it" insane moments on his albums, but they were kinda few and far between, this is entirely him just doing WHATEVER. the first side of the record is just random song fragments, completely unrelated to each other, but at the same time it's just so insane that it kinda makes sense i guess?? to a reg person this is probably all a bunch of random noises and screams, but to ME it is a cinematic, passionate work of art from one of music's most brilliant and creative personalities. getting into the specifics of why i like the music so much will get redundant and long, so i'm not gonna get into it. but lemme just say that the one thing this album has over the others is that i do not dislike a single song on here. not even a little bit. with white music & paul's boutique, there are songs that i'm just okay on, but awats has a ""song"" that is literally just dog noises and i still like it. everything about it is just... idk. hashtag perf.

even if the music sucked, or it had no artistic integrity, it would still be my favourite of all time because of the emotional significance it has for me. awats entered my life during a really difficult time, where i was miserable all the time and hated myself. i felt like i had no purpose in life or no friends to turn to, so having a cool album and guy to obsess over numbed the pain. the other two album picks have helped me thru some hard times too, but awats has so many memories and emotions attached to it, good and bad. i remember laying in bed and crying listening to sometimes i dont know what to feel, but i ALSO remember bouncing down the street singing along to you don't have to camp around. my all-time favourite record shopping experience when i was at my first record fair in 2019, anxiously searching all the huge crates, then magically finding a copy of it in all its glory.. with some random guy's name scrawled across the beautiful back cover. i actually gasped out loud and jumped all around the room, i could barely even contain my excitement. i don't think any other album i own or will own can replicate that feeling for me, just absolute glee and euphoria but also comfort and solitude. tl;dr... it means the world to me and it's my fave album ever. the end.

- favourite songs (EVEN THO YOU SHOULD LISTEN TO IT IN ORDER) : international feel/le feel internacionale, never never land, just one victory, sometimes i dont know what to feel, the medley, when shit hits the fan, zen archer

~~

forever appreciative to you for asking me this vezzie!! i love to talk about my records :> hopefully it won't be too hard to sift through this hell post!

[kiligaus]

Skipping Class w/ bestfriend!minhee cause your third period (math) is hella boring lmaoo

(a/n: I don’t promote skipping class, be good kids stay in school, also this based off of real-life experience, but I didn’t skip class (cuz my mom will beat my ass) I skipped going to school mass with my friends)

It was currently 11:50 during lunch and I was hanging out with my bestfriend!minhee. 

Minhee and I were fooling around dying at some stupid post he had just shown me on Instagram when suddenly a thought popped into my head. Crap we have math next period with Mr. Lim, ugh I hate math, and I didn’t do the homework. “Hey, Minhee did you do the homework Lim assigned last night?” “Ah fuck no, why’d you have to remind me.” He pouts. I giggle at my best friend’s response. I zoned out for a while, whilst Minhee complained about the unfinished homework assignment when a brilliant idea popped into my head. I place my hand on his shoulder and lead closer and whispered into his ear. “What if we skipped just this once.” I say holding up my pointer finger pouting. My best friend pulled away quickly and looked at me stunned. Minhee never thought I’d be the one to skip classes. Granted I wouldn't, but it’s for the high school experience, everyone has done it at least once, right? “Are you kidding me?! Are you trying to get us caught, we’d never pull off something like that.” He whispers shouts making sure no teacher would overhear our conversation. “Aw, come on it’ll just be this once, besides we have a spare after, so we can quickly go to your house and mine and delete the message saying we weren’t there for third.” I looked at him with puppy dog eyes practically begging him to agree with me, he let out a sigh and nodded his head in defeat. “You owe bubble tea if we pull this off”

In the five minutes of lunch we had left, I briefly explain the plan I came up with. “Look all we need to do is wait in the girl’s washroom near the back, wait till the hall monitors pass and then we book it to the back stairwell exit then BAM we free.” I smile. “Dude, it ain’t that easy, remember I am a BOY and can’t go to the washroom with you.’’ Minhee deadpans. Fuck I forgot. The bell suddenly rings indicating lunchtime has finally ended. Quick Y/n think fast you got 3 mins till class starts. “Ok, ok, uh just go to the closest guy’s washroom near the back and wait till the monitor’s pass and meet me under the stairs at the back exit. If I’m not there just leave.” I quickly state. Minhee nods and we swiftly do our signature handshake then headed in the opposite direction heading towards the washrooms near the back exit.

I beelined my way through the crowd of people and into the girl’s washroom that was somewhat near the back exit, hoping no teachers saw me, thinking something was suspicious. I sat up on the washroom counter, placing my bag next and began to wait. Now the real part has begun, Try. Not. To. Get. Caught. The hall monitors usually do a quick look around to see if any lingering students were around attempting to skip class. I got off the counter and walked over to the conveniently placed fire escape route to get an idea of how close the back exit was from me. “Not too far, just 5 classes down from me.” I thought to myself, as I traced my finger over the map. Suddenly I heard a sound coming from outside the washrooms, footsteps. I tiptoed my way to the entrance of the washroom and peered around the corner, it was one of the hall monitors passing by. I quickly grabbed my bag from its spot on the counter and exited the washroom. “Ok Y/n you just need to make it look like you're going to your locker to put away things from your bag, easy right.” I briskly walked through the hallway as if I was determined to go to my so-called locker, trying not to look into classrooms to avoid suspicion, when I finally reached the door the stairwell at the back exit. As quietly as I could I opened the door and carefully closed it behind me trying to not disrupt any of the classes, drawing attention to myself. HOME HERE I COME. I went under the stairs to wait for Minhee out of sight of anyone coming in or out of the stairwell. 

1 minute turned into 5 and Minhee still wasn’t here yet. “Where the hell is this guy? It isn’t that hard to sneak out of this school.” I rolled my eyes. I checked my phone. 12:02. It’s literally been 5 minutes since classes have started, I began to worry. Did he get caught? Did he forget where to go? Did he ditch me? Is what I thought to myself. When suddenly I heard the door to the stairwell open and some footsteps coming toward where I was hiding. Shit, are the hall monitors back? Am I gonna get caught? I’m totally fucked. I put a hand over my mouth and nose to slow down my breathing, hoping they can’t hear me. 

“BOO!” I jumped a little, hitting my head in the process. “Ow! What the-” I whisper-shout. I glared at the person next to me. “Minhee!” “Come on let’s go.” He says grabbing my arm and opening the back door to our freedom.

[foolgobi65]

yeh rishtaa kya kehlataa hain

@allegoriesinmediasres asked for: Rama/Sita, travel!AU, friends to lovers, “you confuse me”

as usual, this is completely unedited and thus is probably chock full of grammar errors, bad characterization, and terrible pacing. but! it was fun to write on my end so as always if u want me to rewrite it I’d be glad to lmaoo. it’s super super super cheesy at the end...like the whole third bit is just super cliche but w/e i love cliche romance its all good lol. anyways, i hope you like it at least a little!! thank you so much for the prompt <3 <3 <3 

if you’d like to send me an au prompt from this list, please do!! 

(title is from a lovely ar rahman song from the movie meenaxi, and also apparently a hindi soap, meaning “what is this relationship called?” )

---

It’s been two weeks since the Raghuvanshi Group put out a notice that nearly brought the Indian manufacturing industry to its knees: Ramachandra, eldest son of Dasaratha Raghuvanshi and anointed heir since his very first breath, has been stripped of his VP positions within the company, his stock options, even his entrance card. The gossip blogs report that Ramachandra has lost access to the family accounts and family property, have posted pictures of the young man once posed to be the next titan of Indian Industry at a local branch of the Bank of India, handing over what is rumoured to be his great-grandfather’s watch as a starting sum so that he can get his own personal account.  

Bharata, three years Rama’s junior, is still in the United States working on his MBA: he has not yet been told of his brother’s effective exile from the family, nor of his own subsequent ascension to the position of CEO-in-waiting. Twins Lakshmana and Shatrugana, five years younger, are in London having just begun their undergraduate degrees. It was interesting, people used to say, that of the brothers it was only Rama who stayed in India. Rama who attended every company party and toured factories, solemnly noting down worker complaints on the weekends he could spare from his studies, in all respects the near exact opposite of his father whose four children are the sons of three women. 

Four days after the company announced its decision, Ramachandra disappeared from the public eye. It takes ten days, but Janaki eventually tracks down enough public and private conjecture to find him in a housing colony nearly an hour long ride from Ayodhya, the Raghuvanshi family home in the center of the city. The door opens, and Janaki greets the man who can only be Sumantra, Dasaratha’s long-loyal driver who had apparently left the same day as it’s once shining son. 

“Hello!” she says, palms folded and motorcycle helmets dangling by their straps from her wrists, “I’m a friend of Ram. Is he at home?” 

The door closes almost entirely. “Why would sir be found here,” Janaki hears from the gap, as Sumantra hooks the metal chain that would prevent her from barging in even if she was strong enough to shove aside a man nearly 50 pounds heavier than herself. “He is a very rich man’s son, and I am only a driver.” 

Janaki frowns. “No one is ever ‘only’ anything Sumantra-ji, we all do some type of work in order to live, and not one of these jobs is better or worse than another.” 

From behind the door, she hears the sharp exhalation that could almost be a snort from someone more given to expressing his own feelings. Janaki was right, then, Ramachandra Raghuvanshi who grew up on one of the most expensive properties in India has sought refuge in a home he could have bought on a moment’s whim only two weeks before. The chain rattles, and the door opens wide. 

“Janaki Videha,” Rama says, and suddenly it is four years ago and Janaki is again a student politician stuck in a hospital bed after a bad encounter with the police, flipping through notes meticulously taken by a classmate who insists on anonymity but could only possibly be the lanky, nearly silent boy that everyone knows will one day be one of the richest men in India. 

Normally, a person seeing an old acquaintance after a few years would speak their name, then utter some platitude about how long it has been since they last met and invite them inside to catch up. Rama, who is only capable of erudition in front of men his father wants him to impress, conveys the implication that all of these social niceties have been uttered without saying anything but her name. Janaki smiles, takes off her shoes, and walks in. 

---

“What are you even doing here?” 

Janaki raises an eyebrow, pouring a little more soap into the bucket they were offered to use for clothes washing. It has been a month since Janaki found Rama and told him that she was going on a trip, and that she needed male company to keep her safe. A month since she handed him one of her motorcycle helmets, helped him pack his single spare change of clothes and toothbrush, and directed him to sit behind her and hold on tight so that they might make it to another friend’s village by evening and have a place to spend the night. Together, they have followed the western coastline, trading off who drives when Janaki realizes that not only does Rama have a deft hand at the wheel, but in the proper circumstances can coax thrills out of her old bike that she hadn’t even thought possible. 

“What do you mean,” she asks, grabbing his kurta top from the pile of clothes he has slowly gathered from the families he has inadvertently charmed over their travels. He’s standing off to the side, hanging their host family’s saris to dry in order of color, taking the pains to smooth each piece of fabric and making sure none of them touch. In exchange for doing the family’s laundry today, Janaki and Rama are allowed to do their own, an exchange of goods and services that has served them well so far. 

“We both know what I mean,” she hears in response. “You’ve just been elected President of the University Student Union, your father is up for election this year, and even if neither of those things were important enough you must have research you should be doing instead of traveling the coastline with the penniless, disgraced son of an industrialist.” His voice is as matter of fact as it always seems to be with him, but Janaki feels an undercurrent of self-hatred at the core of his little speech. Still, she thinks with a faint flush, it’s nice to know that he has kept up with her just as closely as she had him -- though of course it was much easier to find information about Ramachandra Raghuvanshi, always in the papers at exact, two week intervals so as to prevent the creation of scandals to amuse the public with during a news drought. 

“I’d call your father a capitalist if I was really embarrassed to be seen with you,” she says back, “and there is more to be ashamed of in becoming rich through exploitation than in being poor through no fault of your own.”  

Janaki hands over his kurta, and watches him wring it out one more time with hands stronger than her own. He smiles slightly. “The revolution never stops, does it?” 

“No,” she smiles in return. “Not with me, and not, I think, with you either.” 

Rama looks away, walking back to the rope to hang up his shirt. “What do you know about me that makes you so confident?” He pursues his lips briefly. “We weren’t even friends, and still you’re here with me.” 

Why are you here, Janaki hears go unspoken, why haven’t you abandoned me as well? 

When Janaki arrived on campus all starry eyed at 17, she had taken the student body by storm. Blessed with a vibrant personality and the natural pull of a gravity well, she brought people into her orbit effortlessly, rising up the university party ranks within months rather than years of her peers. Academically, she was registered as an economics student, a category the papers said she shared with the Raghuvanshi heir who had created quite the stir when he took his place at an Indian University instead of going abroad. She had been doing quite well, she thought, until the exhaustion after her first collection drive in support of a local workers’ strike fund had caught up to her and she had slept through a full day’s worth of classes. Just when Janaki had been about to call up an acquaintance in their batch she thought might lend her notes, a folder had been slipped underneath her dorm door. Inside, a set of meticulous notes, and a 2 lakh check. 

“Isn’t the factory a subsidiary of the Raghuvanshi group?” Janaki’s roommate asked, turning over the check as Janaki flipped through the notes. Thank you for your work, they said at the top. Please let me know if the workers need more. 

“Yes,” she had said, “but we can’t tell anyone about this.” For four years she had kept his secret, waiting for his packages whenever she was detained, or ill, or beaten up and could not attend the day’s lectures. More than just a copy of the class outline, Rama’s notes were full of asides, connections, slips of paper clipped with outside citations when he saw something that could be countered, or expanded on. When the party canvassed for funds, her notes would arrive with another check, no demands made in exchange except a humble request to let him know if they ever needed more. 

Janaki looks at Rama now, hair growing long to match his new beard. Ramachandra Raghuvanshi had always been clean shaven, hair short and neat and slightly parted to the side in a way every girl instinctively knew must have been how his mother told him would suit. Her eyes soften. 

“You used to take notes for me,” she says, “Why?” 

His lips turn down just slightly. “It helped me study, to transcribe them again.”

Janaki raises an eyebrow. She remembers that the notes had always focused especially on areas she was known to be weak in, but she lets his half-truth slide. She has a better arrow in her quiver. 

“And the money?” 

His eyes are trained to the ground. “It wasn’t my money.” Well, certainly the last six weeks have made that much clear. But Janaki did not remember Rama spending exorbitantly in school: his largest expenses seemed to be the checks he sent her. 

“We weren’t friends,” Janaki agrees, “But I knew that you were a good man,” Janaki says, “even if you’ve had to hide it from your family your whole life.” She snorts. “And if we weren’t friends then, we certainly are now -- look, I’m washing your underwear right now, and if that isn’t friendship I don’t know what is!” 

The joke isn’t really that funny, but suddenly Rama bursts into laughter, loud and deep in a way Janaki doesn’t think she’d ever heard from him in class, on campus, even in the videos posted by the gossip rags online. 

“I’ve never had a friend before,” he finally says, and Janaki tries not to show her surprise or the way that makes her hurt on his behalf. “But I would be grateful to be yours.” 

--

Another two months pass, Janaki and Rama journeying up and down and around the west coast. Slowly, Rama starts to gravitate towards the work that he seems suited to do in trade for the day’s food and shelter, and Janaki watches as he seems to blossom in front of her eyes. Every place they drive into, Janaki begins to ask around and invariably there is a person who, more than needing wood split or clothes washed, is in need of a good scribe to write, in English, the details of their grievance against someone with more power than them. Rama listens, and writes, and accompanies men and women to go see a lawyer, or their landlords, and stands behind them speaking in that perfect colonial era British Indian accent he says he picked up at boarding school, making even Janaki squirm when she hears it. 

Janaki’s ideology does not allow for her to venerate colonial markers of class, so that squirm must be one of discomfort, rather than, well, --

It has been three months since Janaki and Rama set out on their travels, and time is running out for Janaki who really does have things she has to get back to: a student union to run, a doctorate to work towards, a father’s election campaign to help out with. But everytime Janaki thinks about waking up one morning without seeing him when she turns her head, the pit in her stomach grows larger and more snarled. She doesn’t know how it happened but somehow Rama has gone from acquaintance, to friend, to....to something Janaki can’t even describe beyond simply laying claim to the person at her side. He has become “her” Rama, even though she knows you can’t own a person -- yet Janaki is greedy, and when she watches the small smiles that their trip has coaxed out of his mouth, watches him bargain with their host so that she can eat her favorite vegetable at dinner, watches him finally fall asleep after talking to her for hours into the night and finally look like the youth he is, Janaki knows that she can’t bear to leave. 

“Are you angry,” she asks one day, passing him the newspaper cone of roasted peanuts they’ve been trading between themselves while they sit on the sand of an empty beach. There is no need to clarify what he possibly could be angry about. 

“No,” he says, taking the cone. “I obey my father’s will.” 

From anyone else, Janaki would laugh, but she knows that he speaks the truth as he sees it. The Raghuvanshis raised the perfect scion, a boy right out of those terrible 90s Hindi films who saw their parents as God and venerated at the altar of increased profits. Yet, they chose to throw him like yesterday’s trash -- but no matter, because their loss is Janaki’s gain, and she knows him, knows what makes him happy and sad, and glad and mad.

She knows, for one, that he is angry and that he needs to acknowledge it before she can ask him to come back with her and start over. 

“Yes,” she says, “you obeyed quite beautifully. That doesn’t mean you aren’t upset.” 

“Don’t -- I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work.” 

She turns to look at him, jaw already clenched where usually it would take five times as long to get him to this state. He’s furious. Janaki’s heart aches in sympathy, longing to gather him up in her arms and tell him that it’s alright to be upset, that it would even be right to feel so, to kiss away the furrow in his beautiful brow and brush his curls behind his ear. But that would only make him close up, so instead -- 

“Don’t what?” she asks. 

His entire body tightens, like a screw wound one turn too much. “I’m not upset,” he hisses, eyes flashing. “I’m fine!” Janaki brushes her hand over the one of his currently crushing the newspaper cone. As if burned, he lets go.

Sita sighs. “We don’t have to talk about it, but you’re clearly angry and it really isn’t healthy to keep it all in. There’s no one here at the beach, so I think you should just scream it out and try to move on with your life.” She’s not being entirely truthful, since she really does think he should talk about his family’s sudden and entire abandonment after years of encouraging near insane amounts of familial loyalty and emotional repression, but even this journey started out with a single step. 

“You think I should... scream,” Rama says, eyebrow raised in perfect, aristocratic, condescension. Janaki nods. 

“Just go out into the surf, scream at the top of your lungs for 20 seconds, and then we can leave no questions asked. I promise.” 

“You won’t bring this up again,” he asks as if to confirm the terms of a business deal. Perhaps that’s what this is to him, finally back on familiar territory. Janaki shrugs, ignoring how her heart sinks to think of him seeing her care as nothing more than something to trade in order to keep away. 

“For now.” At his frown, she shrugs again, allowing herself to smile a little. “If it looks like you’re struggling in the future, I’m definitely going to ask again.” 

For a moment, Rama’s eyes widen in ...shock? Surprise? Was he not expecting for them to remain in each other’s lives? Janaki can’t allow herself to think too hard or long on the subject, especially since Rama has, without a word, risen and walked over to the surf. 

He glances once over his shoulder, and Janaki waves in encouragement. He begins to scream. 

20 seconds pass, and Janaki really does think he will stop and walk back, brushing off any questions and wandering back into the village they’ve decided to stay in this week. But then 30 pass, then a minute, and suddenly Rama is just screaming, knees falling into the waves and hands coming up to clutch and pull at his hair and Janaki is running as fast as she ever has to crash next to him in the wet sand. She shifts sideways, putting her body perpendicular to his so that her back is not to the waves but she can still look at his face -- he’s still screaming, doesn’t seem to have noticed her body next to his, tears streaming down his face. Janaki’s hands flail, but finally she realizes that she can only rely on the instincts that have led her the past few months to find him, to drag him on the back of her bike, to tell him to scream. 

Janaki pulls Rama into her chest, her arms around him as she begins to weep along with him. Every time she tries to grasp the scale of the injustice done to him, she finds that her mind is too small. He was raised with every luxury, but with a conditional love that demanded a machine instead of a man. He’s stopped screaming, but has replaced it with gut wrenching sobs, hoarse from when his throat seems to have finally given out -- Janaki wonders when he last wept.

She loves him, she realizes, pressing an absent kiss into his hair. That’s what this feeling must be. 

“You what?” 

Oh, Janaki thinks, did I say that aloud?

“Ah,” she hears, “yes you did.” Rama raises his head, both of them still kneeling in the surf, tear tracks glistening down the cheeks he had just shaved at the request of an older lady who offered to house them if only he would look respectable. “Do you mean it?” 

Janaki swallows, the pit in her stomach as large as it ever has been. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be -- she was supposed to convince him to come back with her, and then later talk about how she wants to kiss him silly. 

“You want me to come back with you?” Oh for--

“Yes,” she says, confident that nothing she thinks now will remain within the privacy of her mind. “I want you to come back with me, and study to become a lawyer, and live with me as we try to make the world a better place.” 

Rama’s eyes are wide, and Janaki wonders if she’s ever seen him look so fragile. He sputters. 

“Fragile? I don’t look frag--” 

Janaki laughs, bringing her hand up to cradle his cheek, right thumb brushing gently against his cheekbone. “Alright?”

Rama swallows, blinking his assent as if he suddenly can’t speak. A minute passes where the only sound is of the ocean waves crashing gently in front of them, water periodically flooding them up to their hips. 

Rama clears his throat. “Do...” he takes a breath, “do you really think I could?” 

“What,” Janaki asks, “become a lawyer?”

He nods. “Everything. I...” he looks away, and Janaki feels the beginning of euphoria. In his eyes there is fear, but not dread -- he wants what she wants, wants it bad. “My entire life I was trained to bring honor to our family name, to do that by making money and keeping my family members happy. I don’t--” Janaki’s thumb moves from his cheekbone to his lips, before he can say something idiotic like ‘I don’t know how to keep you happy.’ Rama laughs, eyes glistening with hopefully something other than tears. 

“But I don’t know! Your needs are so different from the people I grew up with!”

Janaki leans forward until her forehead rests against his and their lips nearly touch. “I love you as you are,” she says, “the things I want, you’ve already given me.” 

She can feel his brow crinkle, pressed as it is against hers. “I don’t own anything to give you!” 

Janaki laughs: only the hideously rich could think so. 

“I’m greedy,” she says, eyes closed as wave after wave of happiness floods her exponentially like the way the water of the high tide touches further and further parts of the land. “I want things that you’ve given no one else -- your grief, and joy, and triumph, and failure. I want to wake up with you, and go to sleep with you, and make breakfast with you, and dinner too. I want--” 

Rama bridges the gap, and Janaki says no more. He gasps when they break apart, and a vicious part of her wants to ask if he’d kissed any of the high society women he’d been photographed with like that. 

“No,” he laughs, and Janaki feels another thrill to see it. “It wouldn’t have been polite.” He leans back, bringing up his own hands to cup her entire head in his palms, lips curved in a wistful smile. “Everyday you confuse me.” 

Janaki bites her lip when he doesn’t continue. “Do you like that?” 

He shakes his head, and suddenly the pit comes roaring back. “I think I love it,” he says instead, smiling still. “I think I love you, Janaki.” 

His smile widens, almost a full grin now. “My Jaan.” 

[writing-for-amusement]

Keep It Secret, 4

Summary:  Ever since your soulmate told you to stop writing on your skin because they didn’t want to communicate, you did as they asked even though it hurt your heart. During the first day of your new job as an “emergency woman” on a film set, you forget your notepad and planner, so you have to write on your skin. When you’re then called to the makeup trailer to deal with an emergency, you meet Zendaya Coleman, with your supply list on her wrist. You vow to keep your status as her soulmate a secret, even if it hurts, because all you want is for her to be happy. Even if it’s to your detriment.

A/N: Okay, so, this chapter is a little short, but... I REALLY wanted to break it off where I did because I like to keep the suspense going lmaoo... Anyway, I hope you like this, I’m actually pretty content with how it turned out!!! Fun fact, I actually didn’t know how I wanted to do the cat, so I legit went on a pet adoption website to find inspiration!!!!

You can still get on any of my taglists!!!! Also, what do you think will happen next?????

Disclaimer:  I do not know or claim to know Zendaya Coleman; I am essentially using her as a face/name claim to my fic idea. The same goes for the other people in this fic. That being said, I hope you like this!!!!!

Warnings: drunkenness, mention of vomit, a kitty cat, some angst, swearing

Word Count: 2023

Permanent Taglist: @pparkerwrites, @jordyns-library, @natblidaclexa, @peterseuphoria, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @beccaboo929, @softrdj, @icecoldban

KIS Taglist: @hailqueenconquer, @imaginerequestpage, @adventurousbooknerd

Chapter 4

Zendaya kept looking at you with those perfect furrowed brows, her hair gently moving in the breeze. Internally, you were floundering for an answer, flipping back and forth between what your heart and soul wanted, and what you knew Zendaya wanted.

Externally, well, you hoped you didn’t look as panicked as you felt.

“Is it me?” Zendaya asked in a small voice.

You hadn’t thought anything could have hurt worse than your daily pain of being around her and not telling her. But this, this was much worse than that. Every atom in your body was screaming in pain, in anger, as Zendaya looked so sad, confused, and broken.

Your hands briefly reached out to take her by the shoulders to add emphasis to what you were about to say, but you let them fall back to your sides.

You bent slightly so you could look her in the eyes. Zendaya raised her gaze to yours and you gave her a pained smile.

“It’s not you, Zendaya,” you explained. “It’s not you, I promise. I promise that it really isn’t you, it’s me.” You inhaled shakily to steel your nerves. “Look, I, well, we—”

Jade suddenly laid on the horn, making you both jump in surprise. You whirled around to see her animatedly motioning for you to get going. Then, she rolled the window down and yelled in slightly slurred words, “Let’s goooooooooooooo!”

“Okay, Jade, Jesus Christ, just a minute!” you yelled back. After watching your friend slump back into the car, you turned back to your soulmate.

She was chuckling and that made your heart lift slightly. “Such a character,” she sighed lightly. Then, her eyes were back on yours.

“Zendaya, I promise, it’s not you. But I gotta go, okay? We… we can talk later, alright? I’ll see you next time you’re on set.”

“Okay, Y/N,” she said hesitantly. Then, her demeanor brightened. “Okay. I don’t know why, but I really believe you. I’ll see you soon, Y/N. Be safe driving.”

You smiled and nodded, turning back and getting in the car. Zendaya waved at you as you reversed and drove away.

“What took you so long?” Jade whined.

You sighed at her and shook your head. “Just relax. You’ll be with your cat before long. If you must know, Zendaya asked why I never let her touch me.”

Jade gasped dramatically. “What did you say?”

“Well, I was going to tell her the truth, until you butted in with a car horn!” you explained with frustration lining your voice.

“Oh no,” Jade breathed. “Oh no.”

You glanced at her and were about to reassure her, when you saw how white her face was. Quickly pulling over, you urged her to open the door and vomit out there. It might not be your car, but you knew you’d be the one to be cleaning it, and you definitely didn’t want to be driving with that scent.

Your phone chimed as your friend leaned out the door and released her stomach onto the pavement. Glancing at the notification, you saw that it was a message from Zendaya.

“Hey, I’m sorry for putting you on the spot like that,” the message said.

You dropped the phone into the empty cupholder and vowed to answer it once you got to Jade’s place. It seemed that the many daiquiris had finally caught up with Jade fully, as she was wobbling on her feet and slurring her words.

Thankfully, Jade didn’t throw up again as you helped her to her apartment. Her cat, an orange and white tabby named Cyborg, meowed from his spot on the back of the couch. He was named Cyborg because he only had one eye, but the other was a gorgeous green. Cyborg was the sweetest and most affectionate cat you’d ever met; he was also very chatty.

As you helped Jade through the apartment, Cyborg meowed loudly at you, following from a respectable distance. You nodded at him and hummed your understanding as you let Jade fall into her bed. He followed you as you went to the kitchen to get Jade a glass of water to drink before bed.

“I know, Cy, I know, she always leaves you alone,” you said sympathetically to the cat. After another meow, you said, “Well, if you want me to visit more, little kit-kat, you have to talk to your mama. I doubt she’d let me come in here willy-nilly.”

He gave a small mew.

“We can’t know what she’d say; your mama is a little crazy,” you explained as you bent down to rub his cute head. He purred loudly and licked your fingers briefly before following you back to Jade’s room.

“Drink,” you ordered as you brandished the cup at her. Jade, surprisingly obedient when this drunk, followed your command and drank it all in one gulp.

As you were tucking her in, Cyborg curled up in the crook of her knees, Jade muttered out, “I’m sorry I ruined your moment with Zendaya.”

“It’s alright, Jade,” you ruffled her hair. “You actually saved me.”

“No,” she argued gently, “you need to tell her. You need to tell her, or you’ll never become prom queen, Y/N.”

“Okay, Jade, whatever you say,” you chuckled. “Sleep time now.”

“Mmkay,” she said as she curled into her blankets. With an amused shake of your head, you kissed your friend’s forehead and left her room.

After plugging your phone in, you settled onto the couch with one of the blankets Jade hoarded for her couch. As you were drifting off to sleep, you shot straight up and snatched your phone from the table.

“It’s not your fault,” you typed out to Zendaya, “you do deserve an explanation, I just don’t know when I’ll be able to give it.” Then, after brief hesitation, you also sent, “I hope you sleep well, Z.”

Satisfied that you actually remembered to reply after dealing with a drunken Jade, you leaned back into the couch and fell asleep peacefully.

 You woke up the next morning to a pounding on the front door and a weight on your chest. A loud purring vibrated through your chest and you saw that, of course, Cyborg was curled on your chest, content as can be. His eye was squinted shut in happiness, but it popped open as the knocking on the door picked up again.

“Okay, kit-kat,” you announced with sleep in your voice as you sat up. Holding the cat in your arms, you padded to the front door and looked out the peephole.

Standing on Jade’s porch was Zendaya, looking incredibly well-put-together for what was apparently 7:30 a.m. Her hair was tied back, she wasn’t wearing any makeup, and seeing her there made your heart pound in both a good way and a bad way.

Opening the door after maneuvering Cyborg as if you were cradling a piece of luggage with one arm, you said, “Zendaya, what are you doing here?”

“I got your text last night,” she explained as you let her in. Cyborg meowed from his comfortably limp place under your arm. “Who’s this?”

“Cyborg, Jade’s cat,” you replied, holding him up. He meowed loudly. “Haven’t you met him? Jade said you’ve visited before.”

Zendaya scratched the cat’s head and shrugged a shoulder. “I think he was in the hospital that night, getting the rest of his eye removed.”

You nodded in understanding before putting the cat on the ground. He wound around your legs and mewed softly. Looking up at Zendaya, you saw that she looked conflicted.

“Can we sit?” she asked, gesturing to the couch.

“Sure thing,” you said easily, picking the cat up again as you plopped on the couch. Zendaya sat down at the other end and pulled her knees to her chest.

“I’m gonna level with you,” she stated almost immediately. “I just… can’t get you out of my mind, and I don’t know why.”

“O-oh?” you asked, translating your nerves into petting the cat that was curled in your lap and purring like crazy.

“Yeah,” Zendaya said flatly, the confusion lacing her tone. She let out a growl as she ran her hands over her head. “I just don’t understand why, why you’re so enchanting to me.” She yanked her hair tie out of her hair. “Like, even when I’m not around you, I’m thinking about you, about what you’re doing, about if you’re smiling or not. I’ve never… never thought about someone like this before.”

“I… I’m really not that special,” you admitted with a half-smile and one shoulder shrug. Cyborg meowed as you stopped petting him, prompting you to continue.

“You are, though!” Zendaya said passionately. “You are just so bright and smart and clever and sweet and fuck, I don’t know! You’re just wonderful and,” she suddenly leaned closer to you, “and I feel like you feel a lot of the same things about me.

“When I noticed that other people touch you, but you always shy away from me, I had no idea I’d get so frustrated. I started testing it, you know… Every time you shied away from me, I got more and more hurt, more and more frustrated. And I can’t figure out why it bugs me so much. All I can think is… that you’re something special. There’s something about you, something that you won’t tell me about, but I want to know… I need to know.”

Your heart was pounding loudly in your ears as you ran your fingers through Cyborg’s long fur. You couldn’t look her in the eye because you knew that once you did, you wouldn’t be able to keep the secret anymore.

It’s what she wants.

“Y/N,” her gentle voice prompted you. “Please, talk to me.”

You swallowed nervously. “I,” your voice was dry as your mind and soul fought in the most intense boxing match of the century, “I’m worried that… if you know… you’ll hate me. That… That you won’t want anything to do with me.”

“Oh, Y/N,” she murmured your name. “Nothing about you could ever make me hate you. Please, just, just tell me what it is.”

You opened your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted again.

“Y/N, is your ass still here?” Jade’s loud voice demanded from the hallway. “If you took an Uber home, I’m gonna be so mad—” she cut off as she entered the living room and saw you and Zendaya on the couch.

“Hi, Jade,” Zendaya greeted awkwardly.

“Fuck,” Jade said plainly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I fucked it up again, didn’t I?” Her eyes, wide with panic, locked with yours. “Fuck, did I interrupt?”

“Yeah, Jade,” you informed her, “yeah, you did.”

“But, I mean, this is your house,” Zendaya added.

“That’s true,” you nodded, “it is your house.”

“Shit,” Jade whispered. “I’m so fucking sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt the whole confession again, I’m so sorry—”

“Jade!” you interrupted her, your eyes wide.

“R-right,” she muttered, taking a step back.

“How about we go onto the porch?” you offered to Zendaya.

“Y-yeah,” she seemed confused at your loud interruption. You rarely raised your voice like that; hell, you barely yelled across set.

You got up and dumped Cyborg’s relaxed body into Jade’s arms before nearly marching to the front porch. Zendaya followed a few steps behind you, still surprised at your abrupt, almost irritated actions.

You plopped into a chair and rested your arm on the armrest, laying your head into it. Under your breath, you muttered, “Fucking Jade and her shitty-ass timing…”

Zendaya laughed at your words, making you glance up as she sat on the porch swing. Jade was lucky with the house she had bought; she’d told you that it had needed a lot of work, but because of that, the price had been incredibly cheap for an LA suburb.

“Sit with me on the swing?” Zendaya asked hesitantly.

You hesitated slightly before nodding, getting up and sitting down on the swing. You internally winced as you felt like your weight made it creak almost ominously.

“So,” Zendaya prompted a bit nervously, “you were saying?”

[izzy-b-hands]

Started replaying sr2 again a few weekends ago and man

Gat/Aisha/Boss really is my OT3 like. The opportunities for care and love and learning and communication and the dedication to each other even after injury/death/presumed death/etc

I always tell myself I won't think up new fic ideas for them when I start a new playthrough but here I am again, no time to play rn but absolutely thinking abt Johnny like

Adjusting to Boss being back at first and the beginning stages of oh shit do I like them Like That oh fuck I DO

Which Aisha already knew but she's patient lmaoo

And the sweet fumbling of stuff like

'Ay I got Eesh some flowers and you...uh. I wasn't sure so I got roses and ammo?'

And in the case of my boss they are absolutely 🥺 inside but 😳 outside and placing this early in sr2 means they're also maybe a little foggy with the whole waking up from a coma thing so they manage a blush and a thanks

Leaving Johnny in a confused panic of if he got the wrong ammo or flowers and Boss knowing he didn't give enough of a reaction but now it's too late to react more and aah maybe they could call him?

Aisha hearing it later wonders briefly how she's ended up finding this so endearing, but is honestly just happy that there's finally some movement here towards what she's been waiting for (the guest room is made up for Boss if they want, not to be the guest room anymore but Theirs, because she hates that they live in that shit hole near the hideout and because they'd be happier here and could be with her and Johnny more which would make them happier too, and there's a whole alternate timeline in my head sans That Quest and what happens to Eesh where they're just this happy throuple. Tho Aisha does have to remind them to pls not let ppl bleed in the house, or at least clean that shit up asap.)

Like the beginning of this is always so good there's so much there to play with from a fic perspective and I just 🥺 over it all (but even more over that alternate timeline but tbh that needs it's own post because I could go on forever abt that.)

Idk man I just love them.