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#and i think all 20 moved up so none of them could have been double expellees
pocketramblr · 2 years
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That reminds me of a post you made a bit back, so I went and glanced at it and. You used the phrase "he values trust as far as he needs it" but I definitely don't think he has a very good perspective for all the times it's needed because I'd say "teaching children how to not die in a dangerous field job filled with fire and explosions you yourself have many times only survived by chance or unanticipated outside help also by chance" is definitely something that needs trust, if not his sake than for theirs.
well hindsight is 20/20, i'd argue his previous 5 years of teaching showed him he doesn't need trust to do the job and thats.... maybe... kinda.... like i don't agree but i can see his local rationality there? Thing is, Aizawa and I don't have the same job- we have maybe 1/6th of a same job. He's a homeroom teacher in a country with very different expectations of that role and as far as i understand it, its kinda weird he's later shown teaching content? (Hori is it too much to beg for some consistency or further elaboration on the plot device magic school)
that paragraph derailed, sorry- point is, Aizawa saw it as his job to keep the students alive, and did that by scaring them smart. As their homeroom teacher, the EASY and SIMPLE and NORMAL way to do that role would be to establish trust so they listen to your advice to not die but noooo. he decided to scare them, and then amp up stress so they'd listen to OTHER teachers (the ones actually providing the hero training and field practice stuff) more. After all, they'd look more honest and dependable in comparison. Considering that as far as we know none of his former students died in action, technically. technically he's doing his job sucessfully enough that he can argue he doesn't NEED trust/honesty here.
he's an idiot for doing it that way (and an idiot ignoring the other parts of the homeroom teaching purpose like. mental wellbeing and social emotional learning because he considers them less important) but still. this could really be fixed without even changing his attitude about trust and honesty if he just got some gosh darn teacher training
#thing is he got 156 expulsions in 5 years#which means either 1- expelling kids not in his class of 20 which means the other homeroom teachers approved the method#or at least were willing to let him do it#or 2- he expelled some kids multiple times#possibly the case being that the second time was 'for real' and to keep them out of the field so they didn't die in it#or 3- a mix of both#all 20 of his class last year got expelled at first#and i think all 20 moved up so none of them could have been double expellees#but his methods.......... do not completely undo his purpose#so he has *some* rational to continue them#not enough if you ask me#so yeah fun ask fun answer fun post to reference#thats actually a post i kinda regret making because...... so many people interpreted that wrong and said 'noooo trust is important to him'#and like....... the evidence they brought up would have little to do with the honesty thing#which i was focusing on because i was talking to a friend and realized we had very different views on honesty/trust#the friend of mine would sometimes lie no problem no reason if they did not feel you were absolutely entitled to the truth#just to do it#where i had moral implications about the truth in my head if there was no specific reason for lying#basically i felt you needed a reason to lie#and my friend felt you needed a reason to tell the truth#and sometimes that reason was 'you felt like it' but sometimes not#and so i said 'huh' and looked at lying liar aizawa#and wondered where he'd fit between those two views#and then i made the post and it blew up and i hated it because a bunch of people who thought aizawa is hot got mad at me for#morally judging him or something i guess (i was not but ok)#and no. aizawa is not hot. he's ugly. he's pretty. he's both pretty and ugly. but he isn't hot. hope that clarifies#anon#pocket talks to people#huh haven't talked about a my he ro character this much in a while i feel like#whats the occasion
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cillianhead · 8 months
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Heeyy, love your work💜 aaand I was wondering could you write dad's Bestfriend! Cillian and how your dad keeps asking Cillian to go on a double date with him and his wife since he's been single for a while, but Cillian doesn't want to and (you're at your house) or then somehow you and him end up in the same place later and talk about it? one of you confesses they're glad he didn't go cos they had feelings for the other and then things get heated 😉😉
Sorry if it's all over the place, I have so many little ideas in my brain rn lol
Thank you☺️
Thank you so much for your request, I've literally been thinking sooooo much about the idea of Dad's BestFriend! Cillian and how I wanted to write about it, I hope this is what you were looking for!
Enjoy <3
Illicit Affairs || Dad's BestFriend! Cillian Murphy x Reader
warnings: SMUT, age gap (Cillian is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s), taboo relationship, unprotected P in V, oral sex (f receiving), a bit angsty, having to hide their relationship, jealousy, some homophobic comments I guess?? (not from Cillian), general adult content!! (Cillian isn't an actor/famous in this also he moved to America... in this!) (Also this fic is quite long... so that's a warning!)
18+ Minors DNI
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Cillian Murphy was that charming Irish man who lived just down your street. He had moved there around five or six years ago, you couldn't really remember, it was when you were just seventeen. He had moved here in the hopes of getting away from his ex-wife back in Ireland and starting over. Your dad was incredibly welcoming to him when he first moved in and they quickly became good buddies. Your dad was into sports and drinking beer, cooking out on the grill, and all that classic dad stuff. Cillian enjoyed that stuff too but he was much more into the arts than your dad ever could be. You two bonded over that. Cillian taught you how to play guitar, you'd write songs together, you'd go to concerts of bands you both liked.
Now you were twenty-four, in your last year of college and Cillian was still around, you still got together and went to concerts or played the guitar together every now and then, though you were more busy now and so was he. You'd had a crush on him ever since you had laid your eyes on him but you understood why it was wrong, understood why he was off limits. You couldn't help but grow jealous though when you'd see him bring home women every now and then and then see them leaving in the morning. It wasn't an occasion that happened often but it got on your nerves regardless, you knew you had no right to feel that way. But it still made you feel sick to your stomach.
Of course, you'd had a couple of boyfriends, none of them were all that serious. You hated yourself for comparing them to him, knowing no man could ever compare to the man that Cillian is. Your dad was oblivious to your (not-so) little crush. You had to keep it that way, not that anything was ever going to happen between you but you knew your dad would be uncomfortable with the idea of you having a crush on one of his best buddies.
"Cillian's comin' over tonight, Y/N." Your dad popped his head into your room, you just nodded and smiled before he left. You still lived at home since you studied not too far from home, your parents were more than happy to let you live there for as long as you needed but you had plans of moving out soon, as soon as you graduated.
"Thanks, Dad... I already know that." You chuckled. Your mom was downstairs cooking dinner and you had also received text messages from the man himself, earlier that day informing you he was coming over, so you were very much aware that he was coming over.
Cillian: Can't wait to see you. It's been a while, kid. xxx
You'd read the message over and over and over again. Your heart fluttered each time you did so. You hated how he called you 'kid', you were a grown woman, you weren't a kid anymore. You really hated it because you knew you didn't hate it. In fact, the nickname made you all shy and giggly, it made you like him even more.
It was around six when your mom called out for you that dinner was ready. You had tried your best to look nice, for whatever reason that may be. It wasn't anything too crazy or too dressy but it was definitely nicer than how you'd normally dress when you had guests over. A small black skirt that was a bit risky with how short it was but you could definitely get away with wearing it and a tight long-sleeved black shirt, tucked into it. You could hear chattering from the dining room, the sound of Cillian's chortling made you smile as you entered the room to find yourself meeting the back of the head of an unfamiliar blonde woman, sitting next to Cillian, and making him laugh. Your smile had dropped.
"Oh, sweetie!" Your mom waved you over to the table, the food had been served, both parents sitting on either end of the table while you had to sit and face Cillian and this strange blonde lady. Was this his girlfriend? You knew it had been around a month or so since you'd last seen him but surely he hadn't gotten a girlfriend in such a short amount of time. "This is Cassandra... we've been friends since college, I thought it would be nice to introduce her to Cillian... I've always said how I thought they'd get along."
You just nodded politely, looking Cillian in the eyes to see the discomfort staring back at you. Cassandra was beaming, as any woman should be if she sat beside Cillian, you just glared as you prepared your plate of food. You remained civil, of course, nodding along to things being said and laughing extra hard at jokes your dad tried to make. But you couldn't get rid of the big fat elephant in the room, Cassandra. She was pretty enough, with long blonde hair (obviously bleached, you thought), and makeup done elegantly but it was a bit much. Lip fillers to the max and smooth botox-filled skin. But the thing was... her perfume was obnoxiously loud for a smell. It filled the room like someone had bombed the place with perfume-scented grenades and it absolutely ruined the food. You don't know how Cillian could just sit there, breathing in her perfume without vomiting all over the place. You were sitting across the table and it was horrible, practically on the verge of a migraine, how bad must it be having to sit right next to her?
You scolded yourself silently for trying to put down this woman in your head. She hadn't done anything wrong except breathe near Cillian. It wasn't her fault you had some sort of weird jealousy issues when it came to him.
"...What... what do you do for work, Cassandra?" Cillian asked politely before taking a bite from his fork, looking at Cassandra with genuine interest. That made your gut churn.
"Oh... well I actually work for the Catholic church just around the corner," Cassandra smiled. "I actually go around... um... telling people about Catholicism and its benefits, trying to get them to join." You took a sip of your wine with a cheeky grin on your face as you saw Cillian's discomfort with her response. You knew fully well he had no issue with people practicing religion but you knew how he felt for people to go around and shove their beliefs down people's throats. With the slightest bit of alcohol running through your veins, you found some courage to feign interest in her line of 'work'.
"That's really interesting, Cassie," You hummed delightfully, your parents looked over at you cautiously. You knew you had crossed a line by calling her 'Cassie'. "What are your thoughts on gay people?" The room went silent. The drop of a pin could be heard.
Her face went beet red at this question. Your mom gave you a disappointed look before faking a smile. Cillian looked amused before turning to Cassandra, everyone waiting for her response.
"I... erm...." She was looking around the room. Now maybe you had guessed wrong, maybe she was totally fine with gay people but you had a feeling her answer was going to be the complete opposite of that. "I think... if someone wishes... to live that lifestyle... then they should... keep it to themselves..." You cringed at that response. "I think God... I think God would not approve of... that sort of lifestyle." Bazinga. Cillian was immediately put off.
"I didn't realize you spoke for God himself." Cillian chuckled as he looked down into his glass of wine with that mischievous smile that mirrored your own. The two of you giggled at each other, Cillian seemed sort of relieved in a way that he didn't have to deal with this bozo of a woman anymore and your jealousy had disappeared along with the food on your plate.
Eventually, Cassandra left hurriedly. Your mom scolded you for being rude but you just shrugged it off. Cillian stuck around to hang out with your dad as you and your mom cleaned the dishes, you could hear them chattering on the back porch, probably about the latest baseball game or your dad trying to convince Cillian to come over one day for a barbecue.
"Go bring these to your father and Cillian, sweetie." Your mom hands a pack of beer which you take carefully as you nod.
Walking out to the back veranda, Cillian sat with a cigarette in between his lips. How could someone be so pretty? You sat the beers down on the small coffee table before turning back around to keep helping your mom but were quickly stopped by Cillian's hands curling around your wrist. Electric jolts ran through you with his touch. "Why don't you join us, kid?" Cillian hummed.
"Alright." You politely sat down beside him, he sat in between you and your father. It was a lovely summer's night, the crickets chirped and the sun was only just setting at almost nine at night. It was quiet and peaceful and warm. Cillian's presence especially helped provide that atmosphere.
You tucked your legs up into your chest, you and Cillian occasionally sharing glances at each other while your dad and he continued to talk about subjects that didn't capture your interest. Every time he looked at you, you felt like you could explode, his eyes so captivating and simply electrifying. "Here, love." Cillian passed the cigarette over to you, and you took a small drag. Your dad gave you a disapproving look but shook it off as you passed it back, letting out the bellowing smoke from the chambers of your lungs and mouth.
"Weird seein' my little girl smoking a cigarette," Your father grumbled, cracking open a cold one and handing it over to Cillian. "S'not right, you've grown up too fast." While he opened himself a beer, Cillian laid his eyes on you, sucking in the thick smoke of his fag.
You just rolled your eyes at your father's comment. "If it makes you feel better... the only time I have ever smoked a cigarette is when I've been around Cillian." You giggled, looking over at Cillian to see him tilting his head at you, playfully nudging you.
"Hey," He whispered. "Don't dob me in, kid!" His voice was low and husky, you felt yourself squeeze a little at the tremor his tone caused.
Grasping your lip in between your bottom lip you just shook your head as you leaned your head against the wall of the house, staring out at the sunset. You sat out there for a little while, sharing puffs of the cigarette with Cillian until your dad got up, grumbling somethin' about how he was going to help your mother. Leaving you and Cillian alone together. Alone.
"Your parents are pretty eager to hook me up with someone," Cillian said, breaking the silence between you.
"Yeah?" You sucked in a breath.
"Yeah," He took a sip of his beer, setting it down on the table before stretching an arm back and laying it behind you, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. You were flustered, being so close to him, in this sort of dim lighting. "Apparently, I'm goin' out this Saturday to go on a double date wit' your folks... and some woman named Naomi."
You bit back a scowl. "Oh... that's nice..." You lied through your teeth, Cillian just let out an amused huff. It gave off the impression he was irritated with something but you couldn't quite pick up on why he would be annoyed. He wanted you to stand up and tell him to stay, to tell him to be with you instead, he wanted you to be angry, he thought.
You knew who Naomi was. She worked with your dad, you had met her a few times. She was incredibly bright, charming, and nonetheless beautiful, ageing gracefully. Cillian and her were going to get along quite well, in fact, you felt yourself grow sad over the fact they would probably flourish as a couple. You and Cillian sat in silence for a little while longer, you didn't know what else to say. You felt ashamed that this wasn't just a crush you had, you harbored genuine and strong feelings for him that you knew he could never reciprocate. It was wrong. But how could you not want to be with him? He was the best man you'd ever met. Cillian was kind, he understood your silence, and he made you laugh until your ribs hurt. He comforted you like no other, without even trying and god... he was magnetic, the most handsome man you'd ever seen.
"She's not the woman I'm interested in though," Cillian groused, his fingers fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt, his thumb occasionally brushing over the bare skin on your shoulder. You turned your head to look at him with a frown. His face perfectly aligned with yours, hot breath on your face, his pale blue eyes lit up by the rising moon. You could kiss him at that moment... but you wouldn't. You shouldn't. "Y/N..." He took in a deep breath, and your heart raced, it seemed like he was about to confess something. "I..."
"Come on! Let me walk ya home!" Your dad stepped out, and you immediately hopped up and out of the seat, not wanting your dad to see the close proximity you and Cillian were in, not that anything was happening between you two. Not that your dad would see anything you were feeling at that moment. "Sorry was I interrupting something?" Your dad murmured obliviously, disappointment painting both of your faces.
"No... no... I'd better be goin'," Cillian stood up, brushing himself off before pulling you into a tight hug. "See ya round, kid." He whispered into your hair before letting go of you, he gave you a longing stare before turning away.
"Bye, Cillian..."
Your heart sank as you watched him go. Curiosity that ate away at you bubbled in your stomach. What was he going to tell you? Surely... it's not what you were thinking? Sitting in your room that night, you struggled to think about anything else. You hated the idea of Cillian meeting this Naomi woman and falling in love with her. You hated that you felt like you had some sort of possession over him, he wasn't yours and he never would be.
Stormy Saturday rolled around and you had no plans, you just watched your parents get ready for this double date of theirs as you wallowed in self-pity and the sky opened up, just as moody as you were. They pestered you on why you were so grumpy, you just shrugged them off, blaming it on hormones. With every step they took towards the door, your heart broke more and more. You wished them goodbye before sitting on the couch with a tub of ice cream to soothe away the pain. An hour went by and you figured the date had started by now, Naomi and Cillian were probably planning their marriage straight away and you would have to watch him give himself away, you would have to sit in the church pews and resist from standing up and screaming when the minister asks if anyone has any objections. You imagined yourself watching their first dance, watching Cillian stand up and tell the world how she's the most amazing woman he's ever known and that he loves her. You imagined having to congratulate him, you imagined growing old and alone, still just as in love with him as you are now. You groaned at your silly thoughts.
"Get over yourself." You said through gritted teeth, talking to yourself as you bit back tears.
You had some stupid rom-com on, only further reminding you of how painfully alone you were and how desperately you wished to be the one Cillian wanted. You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts by your phone buzzing beside you, quickly picked it up when you saw it was your dad calling.
"Hey dad, how's it going?" You asked with a casual hum, plopping another bit of the vanilla ice cream into your mouth.
"Have you seen Cillian? He's yet to arrive." Your dad sounded worried, he was never a worrier. "He said he was going to show up earlier but we haven't heard from him since... have you heard from him?"
"No, I haven't, is he okay... do you think?" You sat up fully now, setting the ice cream aside. It wasn't like Cillian to not respond at all for so long. If he wasn't going to show up, he'd at least let the people know. You hear a loud strike of lightning outside, shaking the room.
"I don't know, I don't know, Y/N, it's been an hour and a half, he should be here..." Your dad grumbles. You can hear the sound of your mom apologizing to someone else, no doubt Naomi was the person she was apologizing to. Sorry, your future husband hasn't arrived, you imagined her saying. "Alright, I'm gonna go, we're gonna stick around here for a little longer... call me if you hear from him."
The call ends and you're left with an uneasy feeling in your chest. What if Cillian was hurt? You tried to brush away that feeling, getting up and putting the ice cream back in the freezer and the spoon in the sink. A knock at your front door, as loud as the thunder outside made you jump about halfway across the kitchen. Who would be knocking at this time? Especially during this weather?
You rush to the door, the rain pouring out, the trees just about to be ripped out of the ground with how harsh the wind was and you open the door, scowling at the wind.
"Y/N." Cillian gasped out, he looked straight out of a movie scene. Soaking wet. He took a step in, dripping all over the place. His eyebrows furrowed together as he approached you.
"Cillian, what? What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed, shutting the door. "My parents are worried sick about you!"
"I...."
"Why aren't you at your date?" You interrupted, scolding him like a naughty child. He was shivering as he took off his sopping coat, leaving him in a white button-up shirt that was equally soaked. It didn't leave much to the imagination, with the already somewhat translucent material and the water leaking through. It stuck to every inch of his skin like cellophane, his nipples peeked through, his chest and stomach on full display. You stopped yourself from checking him out any further, growing flustered as you felt him corner you in the living room. He had a wild look in his eyes.
"Cillian?" You ask again, concerned. His hair was sticking to his forehead, his eyes locked on you. He didn't seem to really care that he was as wet as a dog.
"Y/N..."
"Cillian..." You repeated.
His eyes said everything he was thinking. Hunger, love, and deep untamed desperation. You winced a bit at the feeling of hand cupping your face. "I love you." He whispered and you gasped.
"Cillian..." You whispered back, hesitant to respond to what he just said. "Have you... have you had something to drink tonight?"
"I'm completely sober, kid," He grunted as he leaned in to kiss you, hot breath on your neck as you quickly turned your cheek to him. You pushed him away, you knew this was wrong. You took a step away from him, and Cillian gave you a look of hurt. "Y/N, baby, I need to tell you this. I have to know you feel the same way." His voice was shaking. The room shook with him, you sat down on your sofa and curled your body up into a tiny ball. "Look at me, kid, look at me." "Don't call me kid!" You yelled with tears in your eyes, finally looking him in the eyes. Cillian jumped a bit at the sudden outburst, it wasn't like you to yell.
"Y/N..." Cillian whispered, a look of hurt.
"We... we can't... I don't know... what's going on right now... but this isn't right... you're my dad's best friend..."
"And you're my best friend's daughter," He sat beside you, placing his hand on your thigh and the other on your chin, making you look at him. "But it doesn't.... it doesn't change these feelings... I have for you."
"Why?" You shook your head away, trying to hide the hot tears that slipped down your face. "Why would you have feelings for me? You could have anyone... and you decide me." "I didn't decide this," Cillian sighed, he leaned in and pressed his face into your warm shoulder. His cold wet hair tickles along your jawline. "But I want you... it doesn't matter... any woman could beg to have me... I'd still want you, Y/N. No one else matters... I need you." Your heart ached. It felt like Cillian had wrapped his warm hand around your poor heart and squeezed it until warm raspberry jam spilled out of his fist. You felt torn.
"Don't cry, baby..." His voice was low and every bit of you wanted to fling yourself at him, to confess your undying love, to run away to Paris with him and never come back. The way he called you baby was delectable. But you couldn't stop thinking about your parents, about the look on their faces if they saw this. "Y/N... baby..." "Stop calling me baby..." You cried, turning your face full of anguish towards him. Cillian's lip quivered, thumb swiping away your tears. "I don't... I don't get it. I just don't get it, Cillian... why... you? Why... me?"
"You are the most extraordinary person I have ever met, kid..." Cillian's petal-like lips whispered to you oh-so-gently. Your eyes locked on the way his mouth moved as he spoke. "I... I know it's wrong, I know I'm a fuckin' creep... for feeling this way for you... I'm old enough to be your goddamn father... I've known you since you were... just seventeen-"
"How long... have you... you known...?"
"Since you came home from your trip to California last year..." He replied all too quickly. "I saw you with that stupid boy... Kyle or whatever the fuck his bloody name was and all I saw was red... I didn't... I couldn't handle seeing you with him." You bit back a smile. "You're too good... for any of those college boys..." He grumbled. "A lady like you... she needs to be treated right."
You can treat me right Cillian, you thought. "I've never wanted them... the way I've wanted you..." "Fuck..." He let out quietly, biting his own lip in response. "You can't say things like that." His blue eyes were just a sliver of what they once were, pupils were blown wide as if he were high from just staring at you. "Most brilliant girl... fuck... that last gig we went to... I wanted to wrap me arm around you and kiss you silly... claim you as mine... but... I was too afraid."
"What gave you the courage?"
"I've just had enough," Cillian swiped another tear off your cheek. "Had enough of waiting... I can't wait any longer..."
"I can't wait any longer either... it's been eating away at me, the idea of you with anyone else. I just... I can't picture you with anyone else."
Cillian grinned at you, still shivering from his wet clothes. You put him out of his misery, connecting your lips. After all this time, what felt like an eternity, you kissed. The oxygen around you no longer mattered, you had each other to breathe in now. This kiss was not slow and romantic, it was violent like you were trying to consume each other, trying to see who could win in this cannibalistic fight. His hands grasped at your waist, pulling you onto his lap and wetting your clothes with his soggy ones.
"Take my shirt off..." He whispered, he didn't have to ask you twice.
You unbuttoned his shirt as best you could while it was wet before ripping it open and revealing his delicious skin. "You're so pretty, Cillian..." This moment was surreal. The man of your dreams, twenty years older than you, with crow's feet and grey hairs, and the most beautiful soul you had ever found, sitting in front of you with his body on display for you. Your soulmate. You both had known it for a long time now. Making out on your couch was unacceptable to Cillian so he picked you up and carried you upstairs with your legs wrapped around his slim waist.
He had been in your room plenty of times before but never for reasons like this. Never with the desire to rip all your clothes off and crawl inside you. Cillian closed and locked the door behind you before throwing you down onto your well-cushioned bed. You watched him slide out of his shoes and pull off the sticky shirt that draped off his shoulders. Now he was completely shirtless and was prowling towards you like a tiger to its prey. "Gonna take your clothes off of now, love, is that alright?" He asked quickly, fingers slipping underneath the waistband of your shorts. You nodded desperately, your brain lost in some sort of fog of disbelief and horniness.
"God..." You whispered as you helped him shimmy off your shorts and you pulled your shirt quickly over your head. Leaving you in nothing but some small boxer shorts. He grinned madly.
"S'pretty..." His hands slid up your waist until both hands cupped each of your tits in his hands. "Fucking hell, kid." You rolled your head back at him calling you that, groaning at how it turned you on and gasping as you felt his hot mouth latch itself onto your hard nipple.
"Cillian... oh my god!" Your fingers tugged on his hair before he pulled off of you with a pop.
His lips were quickly back on yours as he pulled down your shorts, now you were completely naked and he knelt down on his knees so his face was perfectly aligned with what was between your legs. Your pussy was already soaking wet for him, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. "You are the most beautiful thing..." He whispered, staring directly at your throbbing cunt. "And the sweetest." His mouth worked deliciously on you and as if his tongue wasn't already enough, he slipped a finger into you, fingering at your g-spot.
"Oh!" You writhed around on the sheets, thighs tightly locked around his head, wet hair sticking to your soft skin. He was truly devouring you, like a man who had been malnourished for years, he feasted on you as if you were his last meal. And when you came on his face, he moaned loudly. The orgasm crept on you and hit you out of nowhere, you couldn't hold in the noises that came out of your throat.
You were delirious as you lay there, whining as he continued to finger you. "Fuck... I could eat your pussy all night long, baby," Cillian panted, chin dripping in your juices. "But I've gotta be inside ya."
"I'm... on the pill..." You murmured out, he pulled his finger out of you, sucking it clean as he undid his slacks. He moaned lowly at your words, letting his pants and underwear fall to his ankles. Cillian carried you up until your head rested on the pillows now. It was romantic the way he was handling you, the moment was so intimate as he stroked his cock, lining it up with your wanting hole. "I've thought about this... for so long..." "Me too, baby." Cillian huffed, rolling his eyes back into his skull as he fit the head of his cock into your pussy, pushing the rest in there slowly but surely. You arched your back against him, whimpering as he pressed fully into you. "So good." Cillian groaned as he leaned down and bit down on your lip, pulling it away and watching it pop back into place before properly kissing you. You made out while he remained still inside of you, his hands on either side of your head as your tongues twisted together. The first thrust sent your body into a state of euphoria as he began picking up the pace, rocking his hips in and out of you. Your fingers ran scratches up and down his back. Your bed old and creaky, slamming against the wall as soon as he fucked you hard and fast while remaining still so painfully romantic.
"I love you," You gasped out. "I love you... Cillian!"
"I fuckin' love you so much," His head hung low, and you got the perfect view of him above you. His face flushed and his eyes fixed on your own face full of pleasure. "You're mine, all mine... and I'm yours."
"All mine..." You repeated with a moan, clenching around him, feeling your own high slowly begin to grow.
"You're takin' me so good," Cillian's praise made you throb, his grunting making you gush around him. "My good girl, my best girl."
The look of love in his eyes and in your own could be seen a thousand miles away. Your souls' grand reunion, your bodies becoming one, and your love finally coming out into the open, like a beautiful fruitful spring after a long and dark winter. "I'm close, Cillian."
"Cum around me, love, I wanna feel you come undone." "I want you to cum inside me..." "Fuck," He groaned, hips stuttering into you. "I'll give ya what you want since you asked so nicely." Your vision went white, ears ringing as your hot sweaty bodies pressed together, fitting so perfectly together. Never had anyone made you cum like this before. Your orgasm washes over you in foamy waves, like a stormy ocean hitting the shore over and over and over again. Cillian's rhythm slowed down as he rutted into you, warm cum filling you, and you felt so relieved, this was how it was always meant to be. His lips pressed sloppy kisses to your neck, moaning directly into your ear, both of you riding out your intense highs.
He stilled, letting a bit more of his seed spill into you before he hissed as he pulled out. Cillian lay beside you, wrapping an arm around you as shook softly, still feeling the effects of your own orgasm hitting you. His eyes examined you so gently, a dopey smile on his fairy-like face and his hair beginning to grow curly from how wet it was.
"Cillian..." You whispered, rolling over onto your side to look at him. "I love you." "I love you, kid." He whispered back, holding you like he had the world in his arms. To him, you were his world.
"We'll be okay, right?" "We just... have to keep this a secret... from your parents..." Cillian said, disappointment evident in his voice.
"Yeah... I know..." You pressed your face into his bare chest, loving the warmth. "Cillian... I wish you knew how strongly I felt about you."
"I feel the same way."
You shared sweet nothings with each other. Still, in disbelief, this was actually happening as you fell asleep with smiles on your faces, in each other's arms. Unfortunately in the morning, you'd have to suffer the consequences of your dad walking in on you and Cillian resting peacefully in your bed.
-
hi! sorry this was so long but i hope you enjoyed <3
also sorry if there are any major mistakes!
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kiiwiigii · 9 months
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Human
Jane x Fem!Reader
Summary: It was only supposed to be a tour of the castle, what harm could it do?
Warnings:
None?
Word Count: 900+
Requested?: Yes! Enjoy nonny!
litterly anything about jane im begging you my girl is so underated
A/N: It took me a hot minute to figure this one out. Special thanks to @alecvolturi for all your help!!
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I had been studying in Italy when the invitation arrived. A beautiful creamy white envelope, with an intricate V embossed on the back, and my name scrolled in looping calligraphy on the front. It was a curious thing. I was in university for the study of history and symbols, and I had never come across this one before.
No, that wasn't entirely true. It took me a moment to remember.
I had seen it printed in a book once, a book on vampires to be exact. But the book had disappeared when I went back to the university archives to find it. And when I asked the receptionist, she said that the book was going to be auctioned the next month.
I had scoured the various auction sites that I knew of, and it never popped up. I had assumed that it had been sold at a private auction. It was sad, but ultimately I moved on, only coming back to it every now and again out of curiosity. I was never able to find anything.
But there it was on the back of this letter, extending an invitation for a private tour of the castle of Volterra. I had dived into research after that. There was barely anything known about the castle itself, it was off-limits to tourists unless invited. What were its connections to the V symbol, and why had I been invited?
My curiosity had gotten the best of me, and here I was, smushed in-between at least 20 or so tourists. Seeing the size of the group I didn't feel particularly special anymore. If anything I felt wary. You would think that the amount of people with me would make me feel better. But my mind kept going back to the book, the one that connected the symbol with vampires. And that's all I could think about.
"Right this way."
The woman's voice was melodic and it made me shiver. She was unearthly beautiful, to the point where it set me on edge.
What was her name again? Heidi?
The uncomfortable feeling only continued to grow and grow until my skin was stuck somewhere between numbness and prickling. Why had I ever agreed to this?
'Because you're a curious little shit.'
The woman strode forward, arms extending to push the double doors open wide. They swung open to reveal a stunning round room, black and white marble with tiled floors. I didn't have much time to really take it in before noticing something interesting. There was a drain. Directly in the center of the room.
My eyebrows furrowed. Was that normal in architecture from the period it was built? I couldn't remember.
"Welcome!" A man's voice rang out as he clapped his hands together happily. "Welcome to Volterra! We hoped you enjoyed your brief tour!"
What? There hadn't even been a tour at all. That's when I took in the other people who had already been in the room as we arrived. They were all stunningly beautiful. So beautiful that it hurt to look, but drew you in at the same time. I looked in between them and the drain in the floor, the blood draining from my face.
Vampires.
"Time for dinner." Heidi grinned.
Chaos erupted. Screaming and blood everywhere. So much blood. I could taste the metallic tang in the air, mixed with my tears. I was sure I would die of a heart attack any minute, which would be way more preferable to what awaited me. I crouched down in an attempt to curl up inside myself, but that was futile. It wasn't long before I felt a hand around my neck, pulling me up and over until I was on the ground, looking up at my attacker's face.
Warmth bloomed in my chest.
She was gorgeous. More gorgeous than the Heidi woman who had lured us in. Normally I would have considered red eyes to be alarming, but hers were like deep garnets, and had you asked me what my favorite color was at the moment, I would have said crimson. Her blonde hair was swept back into a neat chignon, and her black clothes accentuated the paleness of her skin. Her lips were full and pink, stained with just the tiniest bit of blood.
Well, if this was they way I was gonna go, I was okay with that.
But she just hovered there, eyes wide in disbelief and mouth slightly agape.
"Well? Are you going to kill me?" I whispered.
She shook her head in a daze, before slowly leaning in and placing her lips to mine. I gasped and deepened the kiss, my hands grabbing her arms as she wove her hands into my hair. She then pulled back a moment, taking in my face before licking away my tears and returning to my mouth.
I couldn't help but let out a small, confused moan.
That seemed to shake the girl from her daze. She suddenly disappeared, only to reappear on the other side of the room, looking angry and hissing at me. I sat up, completely disheveled and panting, doing my best to process what the hell was going on. And also, what the hell was wrong with me?
I realized then that the room was silent. There was no one else left alive. And now all the other vampires were looking at me, shocked.
"It seems as though Jane has finally found her mate."
It was an older-looking vampire who spoke, his tone bored.
'What??'
There was another hiss from the girl, Jane. My mate. And then she was gone, a door slamming from somewhere in the room.
"Don't worry." It was a dark haired boy who stood off to the side, a smirk tugging at his lips. "My sister will be fine. She just hates humans."
'Well, that's just great for me isn't it?'
That was my last fucked up thought before I passed out.
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fantasyinallforms · 11 months
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20 + Bagginshield for the kissy prompt? 💕
Thank you for the Prompt! @camibispace! I hope you enjoy this kissing scars drabble!
~~~~~
Scars to dwarves are like trophies. Great symbols of triumph and fortitude, and any dwarf that made it past 180 was likely to have their share of them. Thorin had more than most. His scars were memories of his trials, and not all of them were in battle. Many he had gained from working in the villages of men for over 40 years. Men who treated him like a greedy beggar. Who did everything they could to steal and cheat him until the only way to save his money was to sleep in the streets. He had wrapped so many stab wounds and cuts on his own body that he could put Oin’s work to shame. So unlike his kin, he did not appreciate or even like his scars. They were a sign of how low he had been forced to sink. 
Those days of working like a dog for scraps were over. Never again would he need to lower himself to that kind of work. He lay on his opulent bed, king under the mountain, with his lovely half-naked hobbit consort curled lazily over his chest. Bilbo was tracing his tattoos as he normally did as they enjoyed the afterglow of an evening well spent. This time, however, his fingers seemed to wander away from the dark inked marks on his body and to the darker shadows of former wounds. 
“How did you get these here?” Bilbo smoothed his fingers over the many raised lines on his arm.
“Men.” The answer seemed apt enough for him, but Bilbo frowned. 
“And what about these?” His hands ran over the three slashes on his chest, marked clearly by the lack of hair on his otherwise furry chest. 
“Men.” was his answer again. Bilbo’s frown deepened, and Thorin didn't like the look of it. He rolled them over until Bilbo was under him, his curious hands pinned above his head. Bilbo would not be swayed from his line of questioning. Ever his curious hobbit.
“Y-you never really talk about, ahhh, your scars. I know others -” Another moan escaped him as Thorin doubled down on the soft skin of Bilbo’s neck. “Thorin, please let me speak.” Bilbo struggled under him, and he let go immediately. He sat up looking very flushed, with several new dark spots forming where his lips had just been. “Thank you. I mean to say that I notice others take great pride in showing off their scars. You couldn't get Kili to put a shirt on for months after he healed. You, however, are never without one. Not even when you’re burning up in the forge. Not unless we’re here. As special as I feel that I’m the only one who gets to see that part of you, I have to wonder why?” There was sincerity in Bilbo’s voice, and it was endearing. He reached up to run his hands through those tawny curls and sighed. 
“Because I’m ashamed of them. Others earned their scars in glorious deeds, perhaps even stupid ones, but not me. I couldn't even properly fight back against most of my assailants. Not if I wanted to make any money. These are symbols of how low I had to fall in the name of my people. They’re ugly reminders.” Thorin felt the sudden need to cover himself and grabbed for the blanket, but Bilbo would have none of it. There was a look of fierceness in his eyes. Then, to his shock, Bilbo leaned him back and started kissing along the scars on his chest. He took his time. Each kiss was feather light but sure as stone. When he was done with one scar, he moved on to the next, leaving Thorin nearly gasping for air out of love and lust but also an acceptance he didn't think he deserved until this moment. When he caught his breath again, he cradled Bilbo’s head in his hands. 
“It’s my turn to show appreciation.” He kissed the scar that ran from Bilbo’s cheek all the way under his jaw. The physical manifestation of what Bilbo had been willing to give up when he threw himself into Azog only to be swatted away. He kissed every inch of that beautiful mark in the same manner that Bilbo had done his. 
“What a pair we make.” Bilbo breathed.     
______  
Fun kissing prompt game to be found here!
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aalissy · 13 days
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Dancing
Day 20 is finished :). I hope that you like it <3. If you do, please lemme know what you think!
AO3
The night was serene, a perfect backdrop for the delicate dance of shadows cast by the Parisian moonlight. Swinging onto her balcony, Ladybug landed gracefully after just finishing up her nighttime patrol and quickly transformed back into Marinette. She stood for a few moments, yawning and stretching out her aching, tired arms. It was a perfect night, after all. However, a familiar presence had her heart skipping a beat and shivers racing up her spine as she immediately paused.
"Hey, purrincess," a charming voice called out from the shadows.
Marinette whirled to see Chat, his green eyes glowing in the dim light. Oh my god. Her heart pounded with anxiety. Could he have seen her detransform? "Chaton," she greeted with a smile, hoping it didn’t seem too out of place.
"Fancy meeting you here," he said, walking towards her with his usual cat-like grace. He spun his baton lazily. "What are you doing out here so late?"
She cleared her throat, eyeing him. "I was just, um, taking in the night sky. It’s a gorgeous night. What about you? Were you just finishing up patrol?" she replied, nibbling on her lower lip.
“Yep!” Chat beamed at her and Marinette’s tense shoulders finally relaxed. He would have said if he had seen something by now. “Ladybug and I just finished up on saving Paris.” He winked at her.
She giggled, rolling her eyes fondly. “Oh why, because there were so many akuma attacks tonight?” Her smile twitched with mirth. She and Chat both knew that those patrols were really just an excuse to talk to each other at night rather than actually do any saving.
“Fur sure. There were at least erm... none... tonight.” He nodded solemnly.
Shaking her head, Marinette turned to leave. “Alright then, I’ll let you get back to ‘saving the world’. It’s time for me to head back inside and get ready for bed.”
"Wait! Before you go...," Chat said, extending a gloved hand towards her. "Would you care to dance?"
Slowly craning her neck back to look at him, she blinked in surprise. "Dance? Here? Now?"
"Why not?" Chat grinned. "The night is beautiful, the moon is shining, and I can't think of a better way to end the evening than sharing a dance with my favorite lady."
Marinette’s cheeks flushed slightly, but she slowly turned back around, taking his hand in hers. "Alright then, Chaton. Let's dance."
He stepped closer, pulling her towards him as the city lights twinkled down below them. Chat placed one hand on her waist and held her hand with the other. Marinette placed her free hand on his shoulder, feeling the firm muscles beneath his suit.
There was no music, but it didn't matter. They moved in perfect harmony, guided by the rhythm of their hearts. Chat twirled Marinette around, and she leaned her head back with a laugh, the sound sweeter than any melody that could have been playing.
As they danced, their eyes never left each other. Marinette could see the tenderness in Chat Noir's gaze, a softness that seemed to only ever be reserved just for her. She realized that this moment, this dance, was a rare glimpse into the person behind the mask, someone who cared deeply for her. It left her heart trembling in her chest. The thought that he could actually care for her both in and out of the mask was wonderful.
"You're quite the dancer, Chat Noir," Marinette said, her voice soft.
"I have a wonderfur partner," he replied, his voice equally gentle. "You make it easy."
They continued to waltz, lost in their own world. The worries of their double lives, the constant battles, and the secrets they kept from each other all melted away. At this moment, they were just two people sharing a dance under the moonlight.
Eventually, the dance slowed, and they came to a stop. Chat still held her close, his hand lingering on her waist. Marinette looked up at him, her heart racing.
"Thank you, minou," she said softly. "This was... magical."
"Anytime, purrincess," he replied, his voice filled with warmth. "I'll always be here for you."
For a moment, they stood there, wrapped in each other's presence. Then, reluctantly, Marinette stepped back, her fingers slipping from his.
Before she could completely pull away, Chat gently tightened his hold, his eyes searching hers for permission. Marinette's breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. She gave him a small nod, her eyes fluttering shut.
Slowly, Chat closed the distance between them, his lips brushing against hers in a tender, tentative kiss. The world seemed to stand still as they shared this moment, their lips moving softly, exploring the new, uncharted territory between them.
Marinette felt a warmth spread through her, a feeling of completeness she hadn't known she was missing. She responded to his kiss, her hand moving up to cup his cheek, pulling him closer. She tilted her head, deepening the kiss as their mouths moved against each other’s.
When they finally pulled away, their foreheads rested against the other, both of them breathing heavily. Chat’s eyes were half-lidded and a satisfied smile was playing on his lips.
"That was...," Marinette began, searching for the right words.
"Perfect," he finished for her, his voice a husky whisper.
She nodded, unable to stop the smile that spread across her face. "Yes, perfect."
Finally and reluctantly, she managed to step back. Her hand fell from his and it took everything in her not to pull him back towards her. But it was late... she needed to get some rest.
"I should go," she said softly, her voice tinged with regret.
"Until next time, purrincess," Chat replied, his eyes filled with promise.
"Until next time," she echoed, giving him one last smile before he leaped off of her balcony.
As she watched him fade away into the distance, Marinette couldn't help but feel a lingering warmth in her heart. The memory of their dance and kiss stayed with her, a precious moment that she would cherish. As she slowly climbed back into her room, she couldn’t help from hoping that they would dance and kiss again under the moonlit sky soon.
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666prophet · 21 days
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Fallout S1:E8 - The Beginning
Some minor gripes and little details I didn't agree with. It sheds light to some in universe lore that was never talked about. I'm not sure I would introduce certain characters in the finale of a season, but I'm not the writers. Has some action, moves the main plot along in leaps and bounds as compared to other episodes. I think that its a really good end to the season but also a good episode on its own.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Spoilers and Deep Dive ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I guess they really want to make the BoS very antagonistic. What did they do raze Filly? Typically in game they are more isolationist. Kind of don't fuck with me and I wont fuck with you. They have also made them out to be way more religious then they have ever been portrayed before. It also seems like Maximus is constantly wavering on if he wants to be in the BoS or escape.
More Russian weapons for some odd reason. Yes FO4 added the Handmade Rifle(AK47) but it didn't add things like the RPD or PPSh. I'll give a slight pass to the woman holding the BAR, because it is used as inspiration for the Automatic Rifle(FONV). Nice callback to the ghoul that she saved from the Super Dupermart.
Ok this is another inclusion of Sunset Sarsaparilla, so at this point there has to be an inclusion or mention of the Mojave. Still unsure how there are so many in universe cars in the flashbacks but none apparently survived to the present day. Other than the Mister Handy in the first episode, this Protectron is the only other robot seen in the past.
HOLD THE FUCKING PHONE CALLER! This is the NCR? Then why do the have all these RPDS? No Colt ARs? You're telling me that there are no snipers either? Why do we have a feral ghoul tied as a dinner guest? Oh look so cool that you got a two headed suckling pig. You know that thing that has never existed in the games.
I guess I called it. I've never seen a Robobrain that small. This feels like a joke. This is like a Roomba with a brain in a cloche. MCSCUSE ME?!?!?!?! Is this brain bot thing Bud Askins? DOUBLE MCSCUSE ME!!!!!!!! So we have who I guess is Mr. Robert House[RobCo](Simply because of the appearance), Julia Masters[Repconn](She's really the only talked about female CEO), Fredrick Sinclair[Big MT](The "Freddy-boy" comment from Mr. House) and finally Leon Von Felden[West Tek](he was the head guy on the FEV). I like this they are just rattling off all the actual in game vault experiments that players have experienced. This is interesting, are they implying that Vault-Tec actually let these companies take the lead and they would just foot the bill in order to get support and possibly money? NOW WE ARE REALLY FUCKING WITH CANON!!!!! In the games its meant to be a "we don't know who struck first, but everyone got in a lick" type of situation. Its heavily implied that the Chinese dropped the bombs first. But this doesn't make sense, since there are unfinished vaults. If you had your finger on the button, why push it before you could maximize profits? Also damn Coop, it really be your own sometimes. I hate the de-aging CGI that Hollywood does. I understand that Kyle MacLachlan is older but still. This also explains why The Ghoul reacted the way he did when Lucy said her full name. Hate to be that guy, but technically Moldaver hasn't told Lucy when she is from either. So don't get too high on your horse just yet ma'am. Dammit Dane, here I was thinking you were a standup dude. You really let Maximus take that punishment the whole fucking time.
So Vault-Tec or more specifically Vault 31 had access to bombs and nuked the capital of the NCR? So you've just kept Rose as pet for the last 20 some odd years? That seems equally as fucked up. So is no body gonna notice that Norm is gone? Also Vault-Tec doesn't have any way of getting surface information? Well if Griffith Observatory is the new NCR headquarters, the NCR must be in shambles. Also that is a comically large red dot sight on these mounted guns for no reason. Well The Ghoul is just the consummate badass. How the fuck does Hank just know how to get into and operate power armor? So he is looking for his family. In a classic Lucyism, she seemed more broken up about shooting Martha the ghoul than HER MOTHER THAT IS A GHOUL. Surely leaving unlimited power source in the hands of the BoS will not have any lasting consequences. Ok nice, teasing finally some deathclaw action. Alright well that just seals the deal that the second season is going to be better. But also how the fuck are you going to make a story around New Vegas? Literally the endings vastly change how the strip ends up. I have a bad feeling that we are getting into that retconning or just plain making shit up for the canon of the show.
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I'm not surprised they went with a cliffhanger ending. The inclusion of New Vegas is going to make for some interesting lore issues though. I hope they don't try to change established events. Even though this left somethings unanswered, it did answered enough to be a well rounded episode. Its funny how you introduce the NCR and give no context as to who they are or what they do, considering there will be people who have never played the games watching this show.
Final Score - 8/10
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woundedheartwithin · 1 year
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All right, folks, my ko-fi shop is set up and ready to go!  I’m still uploading products, so if you don’t see your favorite double exposure, be sure to check back later!
You can also tip me if you like my writing, my virtual photography, or just wanna help me out in general!  I’m thinking about opening commissions on my double exposures and virtual photography only, but we’ll see how the shop does first.  If that’s something you’d like to see in the future, please don’t hesitate to drop me a message.  In the meantime, if there’s any particular game you’d like to see, or any specific images from my virtual photography tag you’d be interested in purchasing a print of, feel free to let me know!
I’ll post a breakdown of why I price the way that I do under the cut, if that’s something you’re interested in seeing.  I know a lot of folks want to see exactly what they’re paying for!
So why $20?  I price all of my prints this way so that shipping is always free!  I use WHCC to fulfill all of my print orders because they can do a much better job of printing and packaging a perfect product for you than I ever could.  This ensures that the process is as efficient and cost effective as possible, and you get a beautiful, professional quality print delivered straight to your door in packaging that will keep it safe and protected.  This also ensures the lowest possible cost of shipping internationally.  They’re also just wonderful folks in general, and their customer service is second to none, not to mention the print quality is absolutely stunning, so I trust them completely with handling your orders!  Of course, if there is an issue, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me, and I will take care of it for you.
Drop shipping through WHCC has a flat rate of $7.95 in the U.S., and $7.95 international shipping plus additional possible fees depending on the country, though none of the countries I entered into the USPS shipping calculator had any additional fees.  USPS international shipping is actually very reasonable, and because you will be getting a flat envelope, standard postage rates typically apply.  I’ve also been using USPS international shipping for years with my goat halter business, and have never seen any exorbitant rates come through on any of my orders.  
Additionally, the cost of printing your 8x10 luster print (semi-gloss) is $2.75, bringing the total overhead cost to $10.70.  Given that most of my double exposures take a minimum of three hours to complete, not including time spent in game capturing the images used in each edit, that brings my hourly compensation to $3.10, give or take, for a total profit of $9.30.  I don’t include time spent in game because, well, I’m playing a video game!  I enter photomode as the spirit moves me, often with no real idea in mind for a potential double exposure.  Usually I just stop and say something like, “Oh wow, that’s neat,” and then spend half an hour taking pictures.  It’s fun for me, and I enjoy it immensely, and that’s payment enough for that part of the process.
By and large, I consider each of my double exposures a labor of love, and I do them because I enjoy them and I want them to exist.  But, to be perfectly frank, I could use the extra income for my medical bills, so I decided maybe a print shop wouldn’t be such a bad idea, since so many folks were interested in them on Twitter.  Admittedly, I haven’t had much luck with selling my prints with my other shop, so even though I will be making less in terms of profit with ko-fi, it does seem to be a more user friendly option.  The other shop is still open if you’d prefer to purchase from there, though the shipping is not free (which I think might be some folks’ issue with it).  
Either way, thanks so much for reading and for supporting me!
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skell3 · 8 months
Text
RP Muse: Jonathan Sims
I figured I may as well start with Jon.
I enjoy playing him pre Season 5. Kind-of aware and understanding to a degree, but not yet seen the full horrors the world has to offer him, yet. I could write him at just about any timeline, and I do actually have an idea for an 'Epilogue' Jon... but I haven't written him any at all.
It's a bit long, so most of the details are under the line. This is mostly just how I imagine him in my head as I write him.
Jonathan Sims stands at about 5'4" with long, curly hair. It is dark brown with salt-and-peppered in whites and grays, especially at his temples. He wears glasses that he doesn't always need, and he has warm brown eyes. Around his pupils is a halo of glowing green, as if a light were beaming out from within. Thin, but with wide bony shoulders, he seems rather frail and could be easily mistaken as a man in his later 30's, though he is more likely to be in his late 20's, if not very early 30's.
Scars from all his encounters litter his body, including: cuts from various persons, pockmark like circles from the worms, a burnt hand from Jude Perry and fainter marks from the rubble of having been within a building as it was being blown up. None of them seem particularly out of the ordinary, other than the fact that he has so many and where he got them from. Work attire tends to be button-up shirts, sweater-vests and fitted pants. His casual wear actually tends to be looser things, like skirts and wider-leg pants. Most clothes look oversize on him, so he sort-of goes with the theme, wearing rather large sweaters in the winter and only keeping his more fitted wear for outings and job stuff. He keeps his hair pulled back into either a ponytail or a bun most of the time, so it's pretty rare for him to let it down, even at home. Jon lives in a small flat on his own, after having to move out of his prior one and all that. It's a 1 bedroom with a tiny kitchen and his living room doubles as an office. If he could keep plants alive, he would have a couple, but as it is the place is sparse in the way of furniture and personal items, most of which are still in boxes and tucked off to the side. He spends more time at the institute than at home, so there really hasn't been a lot of time to get settled in. Plus, he half expects to not be there long, just in case more stuff happens.
As an avatar of the Eye, Jon has more than glowy eyes of his own marking his connection to his Fear. His shadow sometimes also possesses eyes, usually when he is Looking at someone or something. This includes some of the shadows of his hair, especially if he's got it in a pony tail or down, which almost gives him a sort-of halo'd effect. The glow of his eyes also grow more intense, and when he's using what 'full power' he has, they go completely green and intense. Aside from all the basic information about him (I'm sure he fits a general line of how people think of Jon), I've primarily written Jon in an RP with a friend that has a sort-of open Multiverse setup. We've got the 'now' (Pre-S5) team, we've got some years ago with Gertrude and Gerry around, and an older group with Eric Delano and Michael Shelley and stuff, so. Pretty open with interacting with just about any character- The Institute is pretty weird and just about anyone could show up one day.
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mazegays · 4 months
Text
could've followed my fears all the way down
Chapter 19
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 20
If Anya weren’t with them, they could move so much faster.
He, Sonya, and Harriet are used to this. It’s been a while, sure, but it’s not hard to fall back into old habits of pushing forward no matter what. No matter how impossible the task seems.
Minho wants to be annoyed with her, for insisting they stop every so often to drink and eat and move slowly, take breaks, but he knows she just wants to keep them healthy.
He knows that they’ll be of more use to Thomas if they’re fed and rested—as much as they can be, anyway—but he still resents her for it. They’re not children. They know how to handle themselves.
They don’t need the help. They don’t need her help.  If it weren’t for Thomas, out here in who knows what state, he might actually ask her to go back.
At least she’s not fighting them on who’s leading.
She sees them as kids, he knows. But Minho hasn’t felt like a kid in a long time, and he sure as hell knows he’s a good leader. There’s a reason he’s the one who stepped up beside Newt in the Scorch, and why the Gladers had listened to him when he’d thrown his lot in with Thomas.
Jorge gets it. Vince gets it, to an extent, but he doesn’t like anyone else having control.
None of them need adult guidance in the way she thinks they do.
“Anya,” He says, finally, after the fifth stop that morning. “We’re fine. We have to keep searching for Thomas. We’ve done this before. Trust us.”
She looks like she wants to say something, but nods instead.
Sonya slips in front of him.
“We’re not even halfway to our first campsite. We need to move much, much faster. I’d say run, but with the rain last night…” And Anya, who isn’t used to running like they are.
They’ve been going as fast as they can, with Anya stopping them all the time, but now Sonya sets a risky jog.
The ground is still firm enough that they shouldn’t slip too much. They can’t afford any of them getting hurt now.
Without any more stops, they make it to the campsite in the middle of the afternoon.
“We’re not going to get much farther.” Harriet calls over the wind. “And it’s raining again.”
Can’t they just have a break in the storm? Even half a day will gain them so much time back.
They need to find Thomas, soon.
“We’ll stop here for the day, and pick up early tomorrow.” Minho yells back. Setting up is easier this time around.
He almost wants to move on alone, but he knows he can’t. It’ll be too easy to lose each other; Sonya’s the only one who really knows where she’s going.
Instead, he settles for marking one of the trees, so if Thomas comes back this way, he’ll know they were here.
Looking for him.
Thomas has to be coming back by now. They’ll probably run into him in a day or two.
Everything will be fine.
“Did you say something, Minho?” Harriet loops an arm through his and pulls him over to the small fire they managed to set up under a high tarp.
“No.”
“What are you thinking, then?”
“Everything’s going to be fine. We’ll find him. Thomas is smart enough to know how to find shelter in this weather. I trust him.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s okay.” Sonya says, low enough that Anya— double-checking the ties on the tarps, as if they don’t know how to tie knots— doesn’t hear.
Lightning flashes and Minho flinches.
He’s mostly over it, they’ve had more than a few storms since then.
He’s not going to get struck by lightning again.
They’re not in the Scorch.
He’s fine.
It starts raining for real, and Anya is quick to duck back under the tarps.
“You did a good job.”
“Yeah, we do know a little about survival skills.” He can’t be bothered to hold back the comment. Anya quirks a brow at him, but doesn't say anything.
“Let’s eat now, and sleep early. If it stops raining, we can light a torch and leave before sunrise.” If he were in a better mood, Minho might feel bad at pushing Anya out of their little group after they eat, the three of them setting up for sleep near each other and leaving her at the fire alone.
He can’t bring himself to when Thomas is out in this, maybe in worse, and all she’s done is slow them down.
Sonya wakes up the next morning, handing him a torch.
“You and Harriet are going ahead.” She whispers. Anya’s still sleeping, right next to the now-dying fire. “It’s not raining, and the wind has died off. Hopefully, you can make some good progress. When she wakes up, we’ll follow. If it’s too bad, stop and we’ll catch up. If it’s fine, just keep going, okay? I’m really worried about him, he didn’t seem okay even before we separated. Aris and I both tried to get to him to talk to us but he wouldn’t.”
“We’re going to find him.” Minho promises her, but it feels hollow. She surprises him by hugging him quickly.
“Harriet’s just outside the tarps. It’s still too wet to run, but you’ll make it.”
He knows. All he knew for four years was running, and it’s very easy to fall back into it.
“Ready?” Harriet asks. She doesn’t need to, but he knows how habits work.
He wonders, suddenly, how many girls they lost. Frankie and Rosa, obviously, are still alive. Miyoko tends to stay away from them, and he doesn’t know the names of the others.
He shakes the thought off.
He can ask later, if he remembers. Now’s not the time.
Minho nods to Harriet, and they set a steady pace— they can’t go too quickly, what with holding burning sticks, but they’re going faster than yesterday morning.
finish on ao3 or continue under the cut
Anya’s going to be pissed when she wakes up, but Sonya can deal with that. All the breaks yesterday, and stopping early— she doesn’t know Minho as well as she knows Thomas, but she knows enough to know that he wasn’t going to hold back much longer. 
He’d been the one yelling the loudest, and the most, when they’d taken Thomas in the Scorch.  Right now, Minho’s too worried about Thomas to be focused on anything but finding him.
She’s surprised he didn’t go off on his own earlier. At least Harriet has medical training, and she’ll keep herself together enough to assess and treat Thomas if it’s needed. 
“Sonya? Where are Harriet and Minho? Are they shaking out the tarps?” Anya’s finally woken up. Good. Sonya had let her sleep longer than she should have, probably, but Anya’s never had to survive like this. She just doesn’t understand.
Sure, she’d lived through the solar flares, and the spread of the disease, but she’d been pretty young at the start. Too old for WCKD to take her, even if she had been Immune, but too young to have needed to survive on her own outside of the safe cities.
“No, they’re already gone for the day. We’ll be following behind. If Thomas has diverted from the path, or misses them, then we’ll find him, hopefully.”
“We shouldn’t split up, it’s not safe.”
“We’re not children, Anya. We’ve seen worse, believe me. This isn’t new for us. Let us handle it.”
Most of the adults just don’t know what to do with them. Honestly, she thinks Gally has the right idea: Live close enough to the common areas to still be considered part of the community, but far enough to discourage regular visitors.
She and Harriet have been thinking of moving farther out, but since Harriet’s still training under Anya, it’s going to have to wait.
Maybe they’ll work something out with Gally when he’s back on his feet; they’ll pick a spot and ask for his help building their cabin. He’s drawn up the plans for most of their buildings so far. It will take a while to build, too, so maybe by the time it’s done Harriet will be more comfortable moving in. If she’s not, well, Thomas, Minho, and Gally will help maintain it for them. Sonya’s not going to move in without Harriet.
“Let’s go.” Sonya hands Anya her bag. “If the weather gets bad again, we’ll probably catch them. If not, we might not see them until we get back. Minho and Harriet are both very capable, and we all know these sections of the forest well.”
She starts walking. She’d jog, but Anya’s favoring her right leg, so walking it is. She and Aris marked their path on the way back clearly. Even if their campsites are too ruined to recognize, there are markers all over. Harriet and Minho will be fine without her. Thomas will recognize the markers for what they are if they all miss each other and follow them. 
If Thomas were here, he’d crack some dry joke, the kind he pretends not to make.
They’re going to find him.
She refuses to believe anything else.
(It feels too much like giving up, if she does. Too much like losing another friend.
She’s lost too many people already. She’s not ready to lose Thomas, too.)
Thomas’s morning goes better than his night did. His shelter held up again, even in the worst of the wind.
The lightning’s stopped, which hopefully means the worst of the storm is past. He’s soaking wet as it is, and he doesn’t have anything that’s dry.
Or anywhere to dry it, not if he wants to keep moving. He’s going to have to, to make it back. He can chew bark all he wants, but it’s not going to stop him from needing food.
If he’d come fresh out of the Scorch, he would be better prepared to handle this feeling. It’s been a while since he’s been this hungry.
The wind is still pretty strong, which might help, but he’s also freezing cold. His face stings, and he’s pretty sure it’s red and swollen from walking straight into the wind like he has been. His hands aren’t much better.
Just a few more days, and he’ll be back. 
He won’t be alone anymore, and he’ll be able to stay inside when it storms.
It’ll only get easier from here.
Thomas wants to run, but he ran out of food last night, and he’s still carrying his shelter.
Running is a waste of energy he can’t afford right now, especially since he doesn’t even have socks to protect his feet.
What will they think, when they see him? He’s muddy, scratched up, barefoot, and has branches tied to his chest.
Despite himself, he laughs.
He must look ridiculous.
If a little kid saw him, they’d probably be scared. Chuck would laugh his head off.
Chuck would ask him if he’d fought a klunk monster and lost.
For a minute, it’s like Chuck’s right there, laughing at him, and Thomas doubles over as much as he can, laughing himself, until he feels the sting of salt on his windburnt face.
He can’t afford to cry. He doesn’t have any drinkable water left, and he has no way to catch any of the rainwater. Even if he did, the wind would rip apart any fire he built before he could bring it to a boil. He forces himself to stand up straight, ignoring the pains in his stomach, the way the wind pushes and pulls at him, the sounds of Chuck’s laughter still ringing in his ears.
He takes a few minutes to catch his breath properly and calm down. He knows he can’t afford the time he’s already lost, but better to start when he’s calm and collected. 
Once he’s more settled, he keeps moving, pushing against the wind again.
He knows that if Anya or Harriet were here, he'd be getting a lecture on infection and open wounds. Or he thinks he would, at least. He hasn’t checked his feet since he had to abandon his shoes this morning. The soles were all but falling off, and he’s steadier on bare feet when he doesn’t have to worry about tripping over the flaps that his shoes had become.
He has to get as far as he can while it’s calmer, because he’s not sure how much longer he can do this.
He’d like to say he can manage until he gets back, but he doesn’t know when his body is going to give out.
Four days. He can make it that long. He'll probably find some plants along the way that he can eat, even. 
Thomas keeps moving, holding steady on what he's reasonably sure is the path he took here.
It’s gotten too hard to tell, with the mud covering most of his old tracks.
<;- 18 20 ->
0 notes
visionofhope04 · 3 years
Note
Hii I was lowkey wondering if you would do something maybe like a one shot of neglected where reader is older (18-20) and dipped out of the house and became a singer and one of her songs basically exposed them for how they treated reader and in like an interview she full on tells them how she doesn’t even talk to them and like only Jason
This is literally perfect. I love this idea! I was planning on making a singer batsis reader anyway so here you go! I'll be making this part 4 of the series instead of a one shot. There’s a bit of angst. Btw, thanks so much for your support everyone! I'm glad you enjoy this series! Feel free to request anything you'd like besides smut as well!
This is the longest thing I have ever written so there will be a part 5. I planned on this being the last part but it's just so much. It’s not proofread and neither are all of the other parts because I post at 1 am most of the time lol. Hope you like it!
f/n = friend name
Y/G/N = your group name
N/S = news station
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (Current) Part 5
---
You were sick of it. Sick of how even after confronting them about how you felt and almost dying because of it, they still neglected you. You couldn't wait to move out at the age of 18, even if it proved to be a struggle. You had taken mini jobs since you turned 15 and saved up since then. You just couldn't see them anymore as it would remind you of how they treated you that day at that hospital. None of them apologized either. They just pretended it never happened and continued to ignore you. The media had a field day with speculation of what had happened but eventually stopped because Bruce had claimed it was “just a bad case of the flu” which they believed.
Jason was always the only one that would talk to you. He was the only one that actually cared enough to make sure you were taking proper care of yourself and that you wouldn't have a repeat of what happened. He took you places, spent time with you and gave you advice. You even had a tradition where you'd always meet up at the manor's library every week at the same time that same day every week and just have a mini book club together. He always made time for you and never bailed on you.
So on your 18th birthday, he helped you move out. You managed to rent a small apartment in Star City with the money you had saved up. It wasn’t that close to the manor which was a good thing. The neighborhood wasn’t good but it wasn’t as bad as Gotham’s neighborhoods so you would be fine. You could handle yourself with your assassin training if needed. You also managed to get hired at a cafe which was about a five minutes walking distance from your apartment.
It had taken a while but eventually, you had packed all of your belongings into color coded containers and moved them into Jason’s car with his help. You didn’t say goodbye to anyone as you had no friends to say bye to and you knew that your so called “family” couldn’t care less about what you did with your life. ‘This is it, hopefully the last time I’ll ever be near this place.’ You thought. You didn’t plan on stepping foot in Gotham ever again after you left. It would bring back too many memories you prefer to keep buried away deep inside your mind.
The car ride to Star City was entertaining. You and Jason conversed the whole time, telling jokes and listening to his funny tales with the radio playing softly in the background. Eventually, a song you both loved came on and you both started yell-singing along to the lyrics. You wished those moments could be permanent. You were both so carefree and nothing else mattered besides having fun and enjoying yourselves.
You now stood in the doorway of your new apartment, admiring your new home. Jason and yourself had just finished unpacking all of your belongings. You really liked how it looked and thought you both did an amazing job at designing the place perfectly according to your style. Jason, unfortunately, had to leave in order to avoid raising suspicions. Once you both said your byes, he left you to your apartment.
Jason drove back home in silence. He hated to admit it but he would miss you dearly. You were always there for him and helped him with anything. You tried your best to always comfort him and make him feel better on his darkest days and it would always work. Somehow you seemed to always have the right words to say or knew exactly what to do to help him. Out of everyone he was closest to you. He assumed it was because he could relate to you the most. More so how you felt. He’d felt like the black sheep of the family before you came, and he was. When you came, you took that role from him. It pained him to see how much their insults would affect you, even if you were good at hiding it. He could just tell.
Jason made it back to the manor after a while and went straight to the library. He didn't want to deal with the others. After the whole hospital situation, he'd never really bother interacting with them. He hated how they treated you as if you didn’t exist and hated how much pain they had caused you and that they didn’t even care. He guessed that they'd probably be doing something for Damian's birthday and forgot that you were his twin. They probably couldn’t even remember that Damian had a twin.
He made it to the library and pulled out one of his favorite books. He’d read it so many times you’d often joke that he could probably recite the whole book by heart at this point. Sitting down in a chair, he started to read. However, he couldn’t bring himself to stop thinking about what it would’ve been like if they treated you how they did Damian. The both of you were Bruce’s real children. You both even looked like clones of him! At first, Jason thought you would’ve been the favorite twin due to your personality. Even though you were twins, your personalities were polar opposites. You even refused to kill! You were trained by the League so why didn’t you kill as Damian did?
Jason knew you would benefit them greatly if you joined. You had self control, didn’t kill, could act perfectly, lie perfectly, do well under pressure, and not to mention your skills. Being raised by the League may have been torture, but you managed to gain incredible skills out of it. You could take on at least ten guys who doubled you in size and beat them within five minutes. You even bested Damian in spars and he was supposedly dubbed the “better twin” by Talia, so why hadn’t they let you join their nightly crusades like they had let Damian when the both of you first arrived?
Damian passed by your room but noticed something was off. He decided to take a look. He twisted the doorknob and pushed. The room which was once occupied by you now looked extremely plain and bare, stripped of all of its accessories. The only things left were the bed itself, multiple dressers, and a vanity. It looked as if it had been vacant the whole time. It might as well have been. Damian couldn’t really remember what it had looked like since he’s never paid much mind to it but he could tell there was a drastic difference. He knew that you disliked just leaving your room plain unlike himself and wanted at least something to make it look less boring.
He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Had you finally been kicked out by Bruce? Did you get shipped off to a boarding school like he had been suggesting to your father for years? He decided to go ask. He exited the room and closed the door behind him, taking off for Bruce’s office. Walking down the hall, he suddenly remembered that he had seen you leave with Jason. This meant that you were not at a boarding school like he had originally thought. But then why was your room vacant?
Instead of going to see Bruce, he decided to go see Jason and bring up the matter with him instead. He changed directions and headed to the library where he knew he’d find Jason. It was no secret that Jason was a book worm so Damian had a fifty percent chance of finding him there.
He entered the library and was immediately greeted with the sight of Jason sitting comfortably on a chair, legs crossed with a book opened in his hands. Jason didn’t bother to look up from his book as he spoke.
“What do you want Demon Spawn?”
“I’ve come to obtain the whereabouts of my sister.”
“You mean my sister?”
“She’s not your sister!” Damian exclaimed.
“Well I act more like a brother than you do.”
“Where is Y/N? Her whole room is bare.”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
“Just tell me, you imbecile!” Damian said, growing increasingly frustrated by Jason’s blunt answers.
“She’s not here.”
“Then where is she?”
“Not here.”
“Just tell me already Todd, I have no time for your foolish games!”
“She moved out.” Jason said, giving in.
“What?! Where.” Damian demanded.
“Why would I tell you?”
“Because I demand to know!”
“Okay and?”
“Tell me!”
“No.”
“Why not!”
“Because you don’t even care.”
“And you do?”
“Yes, I actually do Damian! I’m there for her when she needs me the most. I’m there for her while she’s watching you live the perfect life that she’s just a background character in! While you and the others ignore that she even exists! I’m there for her when she breaks down and has panic attacks! And what were you all doing to try and help her? Nothing! Absolutely nothing!” Jason snapped.
“Y/N’s fine, I know my twin!” Damian screamed.
“Do you even know what her favorite color is?” Jason questioned in a harsh tone.
“...” Was Damian’s reply.
“Exactly! You don’t! You and the others have never cared about her, so why all of a sudden do you care now? You don’t know anything about her so don’t act like you do!” Jason then stood up and walked out of the room in a fit of rage.
Damian stood there, shocked. Had Jason just refused to answer his question? He was about to follow him but decided against it. Why was Damian going to chase Jason down just for her? She was just an annoyance, a mistake, imperfect. He had been wanting to get rid of her for so long, so why doesn’t he feel relieved? Why does he feel guilty? He decided to stop dwelling on it and get on with life. He figured it would happen eventually if it hadn’t happened then.
---
It had been a year since that day. The day you left your old life behind and started a new life, a better one. One where you weren’t constantly ignored. One where you actually had more than one person care about you. Instead of seeing yourself as a failure and disappointment, you now saw yourself as an amazing person (which you always were). You had been going to a community college in Star City. You made many friends there and started up a music career with three of them.
Their names were f/n, f/n and f/n. You all started off by taking random gigs anywhere you could. You performed covers of songs and would receive standing ovations all the time. Seeing as your group was well liked, you decided to write and produce your own songs. At the age of 19, Y/G/N released their first album. It went viral within a day and everyone was talking about it. After a week, several articles were posted, praising your work. News Stations talked about all the records Y/G/N managed to break. People started to stream it like crazy, and you couldn’t be happier with all the positive feedback you were receiving.
You had been a Wayne once, meaning you had experience in dealing with the media. Since you had already been used to it, you knew you’d all eventually be invited to interviews. So, when you had received an email stating how N/S wanted a one on one interview with you, you weren’t sure how to feel. You weren’t looking forward to interviews with your whole group, let alone one where you would be alone. You knew how unfiltered interviewers could be and didn’t feel comfortable with it.
However, you decided it would be best to go. So here you were, sitting in front of the interviewer in an uncomfortable chair preparing for the interview to start. You had somehow managed to keep a smile plastered on your face the entire time while you were a nervous wreck on the inside. You hoped none of the questions would be sexist as they usually were towards women. However, you had no more time to think about that. You heard clicking, signaling that you were about to go live. Once you heard the last click, you knew you were live and the interview had begun.
“Hello everyone, welcome back to N/S. My name is Jerald Tangleberry and I’m here today with songwriter, singer, and celebrity, Y/N Wayne! How are you?”
You waved to the camera and then answered, “Hello everyone! I’m doing good, how about you?”
“I’m doing great, thanks for asking! So by now I’d assume everyone knows that you’ve released an album with your group. How does it feel to gain more fame?”
“It doesn’t feel any different. Fame wasn’t our goal when we released the album. It was to express ourselves.”
“Mhm, well Ms. Wayne, what inspired you to write songs?”
“Well we know people may be in a tough spot in their life right now and want them to know they aren’t alone.”
“That’s so true. Some fans have been speculating that every member has three songs that specifically relate to them since there are twelve songs in total and three of the songs have the same group member as the introduction part of the song. Is this true?”
“Yes, it is true.”
“So all three of your songs relate to family issues of some sort. Is that hinting that you have family issues?”
“Yes, actually. My family isn’t the best. They ignored me all the time, even when they weren't busy. The only person who didn’t was Jason.”
“You’re saying it in the past tense.”
“I moved out about a year ago. When I was around 14, I suffered from anorexia. My family would always ignore me since they were either busy doing work or hanging out with each other. The only family member that acknowledged me was Jason. I assumed it was because there was something wrong with me. I started to hate myself so much to the point of starvation. One day, I passed out right before a gala and my oldest brother Dick found me passed out on the floor. They took me to the hospital and when I woke up, Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian started fussing about how I’d ruin their image if the media knew what actually happened. They started to yell at me and told me how I was a useless burden. I started to have a panic attack so I kicked them out. Jason stayed behind with me and comforted me. Ever since then I made a planed to save enough money so I could move out when I turned 18, which I did.”
“Oh, wow. So Jason was the only one who interacted with you?”
“Yeah.”
“Looks like the Wayne family isn’t as perfect as they seem.”
“No family is actually perfect.”
“Did your family try contacting you at all after they found out about Y/G/N?”
“Not yet. They’re probably too busy or don’t care.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s alright, I got over it. What’s the next question.”
“Oh-” He cleared his throat and continued the interview. (So basically I don’t wanna bore you all lol)
---
Jason had woken up late into the afternoon that day. Patrol that morning had exhausted him. There was a huge breakout at Arkham they had assisted with. They successfully locked up every escapee, so today, Jason just wanted to relax until it would be time for patrol again. Even though he was exhausted, he knew he couldn’t take a break. The others wouldn’t and it would be unfair to them if he did.
He headed over to his couch with his phone and a bowl of popcorn in hand, ready to watch random movies the entirety of the day. He set down his phone on the coffee tables and grabbed the TV remote. When he turned on the TV, he almost dropped the popcorn and remote. You were sitting on a chair, giving an award winning smile while you politely answered the man’s questions. He was baffled. He didn’t know why you were being interviewed, let alone on TV at all! You made it clear you didn’t want to have any relations with your family any longer and you couldn’t stand publicity, so what were you doing?
He placed the bowl down and snatched his phone off the table. Unlocking his phone, he quickly dialed your phone number. However, he realized that the interview was live and that he would be interrupting it if he called you then. Deciding to wait, he placed his phone back down, picked up the bowl, and then got comfortable.
---
Tag list: @fake-id-69 @pepelachanel @loxbbg @what-0-life @yoongi-holland @omnivorousfangirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @sexysamsungl @iceddonuts @buginetye @portrait-ninja @azazel-nyx @alculai
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i-writes-things · 3 years
Text
Field Trip? Really?
Natasha x Daughter!reader
Fluff, mama nat <3
request- Hello could you please read it is Natasha's daughter and she's going on a school trip to the avengers tower but nobody knows that Natasha is her mother @maveldc25
Warnings- mention of choking on water, one swear word, and mama nat <3
Extra Pairings::
Peter Parker x Romanoff!reader
Romanoff!reader x bestfriend
Tumblr media
Not my gif* found on pinterest
F/N = Friends name
You walked into class and, the second you sat down and read the board you almost had a heart attack:
SCHOOL FLEID TRIP TODAY!! AVENGERS TOWER :)
You half choked on the water you had sipped from your water bottle, earning a few glances from classmates to see if you were ok.
Then all of a sudden you remembered a few weeks ago
---
*Flashback to two weeks ago*
"Ok, Class you can all pack up a little early, today... On that note, In two weeks we will be going on a field trip to, The Avengers Tower, the Avengers will be there to give us, well a little tour!" Your teacher exclaimed, clearly a bit excited herself.
You on the other hand, you were in shock.
COMPLETE SHOCK.
----
Peter stopped you in the hall after school was over
"Y/n!" He shouted your name
You turned around and smiled at him "yes?"
He looked worried "Well what are you gonna do?"
"Don't know." Your smile drops trying to think of things to do "You know we aren't in the same block, right? Just the same class"
"Yeah, I know." He rolled his eyes.
"So then you have nothing to worry about." You smirk at him, walking away and trying to rack your brain of a way to get out of it.
It's not like you could stay home, AT THE AVENGERS TOWER..!!
----
The bus ride was thankfully not too long, but the second the Tower was in view, you got a bit nervous of the possibilities, you tried remembering that they don't know, but if anyone could blow it for you, it was ALL OF THE AVENGERS
Sadly they would all be there...
---
Your class was jumbled in a group near the front doors, each group in front of you leaving one by one, and seeing Peter's class walk off with Steve Rogers, Ned admiring him and flash taking multiple pictures of Mr. America.
The group in front of you left with Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes, you remember the night before them arguing about having to be some sort of team the next day. They never shared the specifics.
You hadn't seen Natasha and hoped to God that she wasn't leading your group.
Then out walked, none other than..
The Natasha Romanoff herself, and you hid behind the group, trying to not be seen.
----
Your teacher on the other hand, moved towards her "Hello! I am Eliza, this classes main teacher! It's so nice to meet you! The whole class is so excited to learn all about the Avengers Tower and everyone inside it!!" Your teacher exclaimed happily shaking her hand
Natasha quickly scanned the group, smiling at them, completely missing you.
"Yes, very nice to meet all of you!" She gave a small smile
"Well, we should get started." She turned on her heel and walked off towards the elevators as you all quickly followed
You were somehow squished two kids away from your mom on the elevator, thankfully the two kids where rather tall.
Blocking you from Natasha's view.
----
You had forgotten how cool the Tower really was..
The lab had totally be redone since you last went in, and all the floors you went on seemed totally different, then what you remembered..
----
Natasha, After maybe 20 minutes had finally spotted you talking to one of your friends in the class, while everyone was walking around the Lab.
You looked up from Tony's latest invention in progress and stared right into your mother's eyes, from across the room, and she was smiling at you. The second you noticed who you were looking at, you looked away and walked over to rest of the group, looking at one of The IronMan suits, with your friend, now by your side.
"Alright everyone, we should be moving on.." Your mom said looking over your classmates and landing on you, as voices exclaimed how cool Tony Stark is..
She smiles to herself as everyone lines up, you reminded her of how you were when you first got to the Tower, so shy and unwilling to keep eye contact for very long, your nerves use to keep you from it.
You get pulled to the front, as your friend wanted to stand closer to ✨The Black Widow ✨
It was stupid, that just because no one knew that Natasha Romanoff was your mom, you were nervous. It would have been better if you were in the back, but your friend would have insisted on standing in the front.
----
You were now in one of the many common rooms, the one that not everyone used very much, you were walking with your friend looking at the all the group photos of the Avengers on the wall with dates, you moved away from your friend to look for the year you came to the Tower, almost 6 years ago...
You found it and smiled to yourself remembering where you stood for the photo.
Right next to Natasha, you remembered hugging her side and when she laughed, you smiled just slightly and the photo was taken..
You weren't in the photo on the wall, but you remember they took two photos, you were only in one.
---
"Hey! Everybody gather round. Gather Round!" Your teacher clapped her hands and we all took seats, facing the wall of the pictures, either on the ground or if you were lucky, which you weren't, some people got to sit on the couch.
"There all yours.." Your teacher smiled at Miss Romanoff
"Thank you.. As you all could see we have dates on all our yearly photos,"
She glanced at you
"we have a few copies of each that everyone can chose one and take it home, at the end!" She slowly continued, after the few claps died down from your fascinated teacher
"My personal favorite is.." She points to a photo in the middle of the wall
You started to get nervous again
"this one.." She smiled softly and glanced at you again before looking at the rest of the group of happy faces
She was pointing at the photo, they had taken almost 6 years ago...
You never knew that.
You never knew she had a favorite.
You never knew you were her favorite.
You smiled genuinely to yourself, well to yourself and Natasha saw you as she was helping your teacher hand out photos
You were nervous again, but..
You were happy. <3
---
Natasha took your whole class to the Tower's Gym, exclusively showing you all where The Tony Stark worked out.
It was cool seeing it, like you weren't in there yesterday, kicking Mr. America's ass
----
Now that the day was coming to a close, Natasha took your class back down the elevator to the lobby.
When you all got in the elevator, you stood right next to Natasha, your friend right next to you looking at the wall
"F/N?" You whispered
They looked over at you, and gave a small smile
"Wanna switch spots?" There face lit up with joy and nodded
You both moved and you looked over at your friend smiling excitedly to themselves.
You smiled at the scene.
----
After getting off the elevator, your friend told you every little detail about what happened very excitedly...
"EVERYONE LINE UP" Your teacher shouted at you all
"WAIT WAIT-" Everyone's jaw dropped
You looked over and saw that...
Tony Stark had walked out into the lobby, and a few kids from all the different classes were taking photos of him
"Before you go.." He swooshed his hand to the side and behind him was a fancy box filled with pens that had the "Stark" logo on them
Multiple kids ran up, as everyone, besides yourself, followed.
Tony noticed you weren't in the messy line for a pen, then did a double take and scrunched up his face
You gave a small wave
He understood immediately and shot you some hand guns
Natasha saw the whole thing and was biting the inside of her cheek trying to not laugh.
Your friend came back showing you the pen, admiring it fully..
You were glad your friend as least wasn't stressed out by this outing.
----
Once back at school, everyone was talking happily with each other, wearing their backpacks waiting for the final bell
*DING*
You said a 'goodbye' to your friend, and they thanked you for the elevator ride, saying you were a good friend.
-----
You pushed open the heavy door to the outside, the light blinding you for a split second, as you walked towards the familiar black tinted car
You opened the door and sat down
"Hey mama.." You closed the door
"Hey bub, how was your day?" She questioned you oddly, starting the car
"It was good, um it was really fun." You changed your answer after registering what she had asked
"It was, really fun.." You look down at your hands and hesitated but finally said
"I never knew that was your favorite photo."
Your mother smiled "It is.. The one with you, I mean.." She said checking to make sure no cars were coming to make a right at the light
You smiled again, this time out the window at the passing trees..
Natasha looked over at you at the red light and smiled to herself, leaning over to kiss your head
"Love you, Y/n/n."
"Love you, mama."
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“Babe, what have you done to me?” You turn to see her reclining on the sofa, eyes closed in a t-shirt and shorts two sizes too small, her belly hanging out, being caressed by her hands. God, she’s gorgeous. You take note of the take out containers, fast food bags, and pizza boxes piled around her; the dozen empty cans of soda arranged neatly on the floor to her right. You smirk. “Babe, what do you mean what have I done to you?” “I’m so fat now,” she whines, grabbing the upper roll of her belly. She can barely fit her hand around the amount of blubber there. “You feed me too much.” A burp escapes her mouth. “I used to be fit before I moved in with you.” She isn’t wrong. When you first met three years ago, she was a professional dancer; strong, slim, and flexible. She moved with ease. Now just a year and a half after moving in with you, she was three times her original size. She was so out of shape she would get out of breath climbing the stairs to the bedroom. And you barely had to lift a finger. All it took was some simple changes to her diet (caused instantly by her moving in with you) and a sprained ankle she sustained after she gained her first 20 pounds. She went from celery, hummus, salads, grilled chicken, water, fruit to chips, queso, stir-fry, fried chicken, orange soda, and cakes... Once the sprain happened, fast food, takeout, and delivery was introduced. The portions of her three square meals and dessert grew in size, just like her. By the time her ankle healed, she was 40 pounds bigger than when she sprained it. She went back to audition and was  deemed “too big” by the casting directors of the three shows she tried out for. If she was being honest, she had lost a decent amount of flexibility - splits that had taken no effort were now impossible. She could barely lift legs to her waist. She had thought that was her wake up call, her sign to get back into the swing of things before her injury, so she had tried to lose some weight. She found herself out of breath during her workouts almost immediately, but she stayed strong and finished them. However, burning all those calories made her ravenous, and her old dancer diet could not fill her. She ate the right portions, she ate the right things, but her stomach growled no matter how many vegetables and lean proteins she ate...Eventually those servings increased, but still, she’d feel hunger. Her cravings for grease, cheese, carbs, and sweets didn’t relent, so eventually her willpower caved. She had only lasted a week before she had eaten an entire pizza for lunch and a two pound box of bakery cookies as a “snack”. She continued to work out, but her cravings got the best of her and she ended up gaining even more weight.  Depressed that she had gained another twenty pounds in her efforts to lose it,  she ate even more and put on even more blubber. No one wanted her to dance anymore, so why bother trying to get fit? And you were right there, getting more and more food, leaving it around the house, making bigger and bigger portions of all the most fattening things, occasionally feeding her when she would ask, but mostly just watching her stuff her face, trying to fill the hole inside. You glanced at her, beached on the sofa. You walked over and grabbed her belly, gave it a jiggle. “How is this my fault, love?” She glared up at you over her swollen belly, pouting, her double chin clearly visible. “You made me eat all that unhealthy stuff when I moved in. It was all we had around. And then there was just more and more of it.” “I didn’t tell you to eat it, or to eat as much as you did. You enjoyed it, so you ate.” “Yeah... but you didn’t stop me either,” she complained. “It’s almost as if you wanted this to happen to me.” You did enjoy seeing her get bigger and lazier, her capacity increase... but you didn’t make this happen. You hated seeing her sad, and the food seemed to make her happy. “Hey... You’re beautiful. What are you talking about? I just want you to be happy.” You sit down next to her and look her dead in the eye.  “How can I be happy when I look like a blimp? How can you think I’m beautiful when I look like this?” She said, motioning towards her body. “I’m the heaviest I’ve ever been, I can’t stop eating because I’m addicted to food, hungry all the time, there’s just so much of it around, it tastes so good... and... I don’t think I can stop... I don’t think I’ll ever dance again if I keep going at this rate.” “Honey, none of that matters to me. I still think you’re incredible and gorgeous no matter what! So what if you’ve put on some weight? If you’re hungry, you should eat. If you want to dance, I’m sure you could get up and move around...” “But it’s not the same! I’m not as flexible! It’s not like I can jump and turn, and move the way I used to...” “But you can still move.” “For how long? I’m already over 360 pounds!” she exclaimed. This caught you off-guard. “Over 360 pounds?” You ask, eyebrows raising. “I got on the scale this morning... The scale I never thought I’d need when I moved in. I’m 367 pounds. 367!” “I had no idea you had... grown that much,” you say, trying to hide how turned on you are. “But you know your worth is not tied to a number on the scale, your size, or your physical ability, right?” She doesn’t answer. “Right?” You repeat. “I just feel like I’m letting you down. I let myself go so badly and even when I tried to get a handle on it, it backfired. I got even bigger.” “You could never let me down, babe. I think you’re perfect no matter what.” You kiss her forehead. “Honestly... I love you.” You grab her belly. “And this is just gravy.” “You like me like this?” She asks, looking you dead in the eye, completely serious, needing to know your answer.  “Yes. Like this. Smaller, bigger, it doesn’t matter because I love you... But I am pretty fond of your body at the moment.” She sits up suddenly, couch groaning with the shift of her weight and looks at you, confusion crossing her face. “You like me fat?” “Yes. But I want you to be happy. If you’d be happier weighing less, I’ll help you get there.” She bites her lip and looks down, thinking. Her belly is in her lap, rising and falling with each breath. Her love handles are emphasized by her too-tight shorts. You want to grab her belly again, but you know now is not the time. Almost as if her belly has gained sentience and can read your mind, it growls, loudly, despite the evidence she’s done nothing but eat all day. At first she is surprised, but then she looks at you shyly... “Y’know... before you mentioned gravy... Maybe some biscuits and gravy for now, and I’ll decide what I want to do later...” You nod and raise yourself from the sofa, brushing her belly along the way. “You got it, babe.” When you’re in the doorway of the kitchen, you hear her call after you, just as shy - “And maybe some chicken wings too?” “Sure thing!” You smile to yourself, knowing that if her hunger has this much influence over her, she’s only gonna blow up more. 
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bigwhispersbluebird · 3 years
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BTS reaction when they are jealous  (Hyung Line)
Author’s Note: I often read a lot of reaction based fics and realize that perhaps my take on it is a little different. So here it goes. Do tell me if you like it or agree or just anything. Also, I am new to this so excuse me for any mistakes. Thanksss
Warnings: None
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Seokjin or Jin
He watched from far as a man in his 20s approached you from behind as you finished the call you had excused yourself to attend. Judging from your reaction, he concluded that you knew the guy. Even though he couldn’t hear a word, your comfortable laugh, the way you slightly hit his shoulder while talking and mimicked his body language, Jin felt a weird irk inside him.
Don’t misunderstand, Kim Seokjin was very confident about himself but there was a part of him that often wondered if he was enough. He might be handsome but there were more handsome people around. He was not the smartest or the most athletic and he came with a load of baggage. So much that he couldn’t cross the room to where you were standing and openly declare that you were his gorgeous and brilliant girlfriend.
His thoughts were intruded by the chime of his phone. 
“You okay?”, your text read and he looked up to spot you a few tables away. The young stranger gone now and your eyes only on him. 
“No. I am Jin”, he replied in his usual manner, trying to hide the truth, cracking the worst joke ever in the process and wincing at himself as soon as he sent it.
He watched as you laughed unabashedly as soon as you saw the screen, your eyes glistening and he realized that this laugh was just for him. 
“You must be really in love with me if you laughed at that”, he sent and watched as you read and suddenly the same look overtook your face that he had seen on himself so many times when he was with you. 
He only took his eyes off you when his phone chimed again.
“Of course. Who else would ever compare?”
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Yoongi or Suga
This was getting annoying for him. Yoongi would call himself a pretty calm person especially after the ten years of life as an artist had made him immune to almost everything happening around him. But this was getting on his nerves. 
You had walked into HYBE tonight and after just being at Genius Lab for a few minutes, you had asked about Do-Yan and went to seek him as soon as Yoongi told you that he must be in PDogg’s studio. Had it been a one time occurrence, Yoongi wouldn’t even have cared enough to think much into it but after this becoming a routine, he was over it. 
Do-Yan was a talented young producer who was contracted for TXT’s new album. You were heavily involved in the A&R activities of BigHit Music and were actually the person who had discovered Do-Yan. In your perspective, he could be a great asset and while he was just here on a temporary basis, you wished to persuade him to sign him as a BigHit producer permanently. PDogg had agreed with you and now you both were on the task of convincing him to stay. 
Unaware of this all, Yoongi decided to do something about the situation. As he typed the messages to the management team, he knew that this was very petty of him but he was beyond the point of caring right now. 
The next time you asked him about Do-Yan, Yoongi did not look up from his computer as he said, “He has been moved”. 
“What?”, you were shocked to say the least. “Moved? What do you mean moved?”
“He will be working with Bang PD directly now so he will be in the other building.”
“So, he signed the contract?”
Now Yoongi was getting agitated, “Why do you care so much?”, he had turned his seat around and was now only focusing on you. His tone was still calm but inside he was screaming.
Oblivious to the storm inside him you said, “Why wouldn’t I? He must have else he would not have said yes to that since...”, Yoongi was not even listening anymore. 
“He did. I talked to the management myself and got him to say yes”, Yoongi said. His voice low and his back now turned to you. “You can move there as well if you want to see him and care about him so much”.
“You...but you didn’t know”, suddenly all the pieces fell into place in your mind and you scolded yourself mentally for not noticing it yourself. 
“Yoongi”, you called out to him softly as you moved closer to his chair. “Jagiya”, you called again as you kneeled beside his chair, taking his hand lightly in yours. 
“I just wanted him to join the company so I was spending most of my time on that. I am sorry that I did not clear it to you. I’ll make up for all the lost time now that you’ve got it done”. 
Yoongi couldn’t even remember what he was angry about as you placed yourself on his lap, pulling him close to leave a gentle kiss on his lips. 
After a while your phone rang and you announced that you had to go for a meeting. As you inched closer to the door, you remembered something and without even turning around you said:
“I can’t believe you got him moved”
You closed the door behind you but not before hearing his low chuckle.
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Hoseok or J-Hope or Hobi 
“I think Yeonjun and I should perform on something more sexy?”, you said with your eyes fixated on his face waiting for a reaction.
His eyebrows furrowed and then as if thinking about it, he immediately turned to you, nodding, “Yes, I think it will work great with both of your stage personalities”.
You were surprised. This was not the answer that you were expecting. You had hoped that he would get jealous like all those TikTok boyfriends. 
But you were not going to be dejected so easily. 
“Why don’t you help with the choreography?”, you suggested, a plan already forming in your head. 
“Y/N, I would have been offended had you not asked me”, he said as he showed off his gorgeous smile.
After a few days when you three started working on the performance, you tried to make Hobi jealous. You would suggest even more suggestive moves but he would just think about them and excitedly agree to them or politely decline saying how it does not fit with the steps. 
He would watch as you danced, concentrated and focused, but unwavering. 
After weeks of this charade, you grew tired and when Yeonjun excused himself to leave for a music show you exasperatedly sighed in front of Hobi who was monitoring the recently shot dance practice video of yours. 
“I don’t think you even care about me”.
“Huh?!”, Hobi was bewildered. “What?!”
“Yeah, you don’t care if I go throw myself in someone else’s arms”, your voice was loud in the empty dance studio. You lowered it again, “you don’t care”.
“Y/N”, Hobi was now closer to you, looking straight into your eyes. “I care. I care a lot. I care that this performance is amazing because this is a great opportunity for you. I care that your steps show exactly how good of a dancer you are. I care and that is why I would never let anybody else do it instead of me”. 
You were surprised. This was not what you were looking for but it was a pleasant difference. 
“And I would care if it was not a performance. I would, I do care if anyone even looks at you in the wrong way but I would never take it out on you. I want you to be able to perform without worrying what I would take it as. I want you to be loved by everyone in the audience”. 
His arms slowly snaked around your waist and under your sweatshirt, “just not the way that I do”.
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Namjoon or RM
Namjoon had watched you the entire night, his eyes refusing to leave your figure as you rushed around the venue making sure everything was perfect. 
It was the last concert of the tour and you as the tour manager were adamant on making it memorable and smooth. Double-checking everything, you finally allowed yourself a moment of peace as you saw your boyfriend rehearse his performance for Trivia:  Love. 
Namjoon locked eyes with you, smiling and rapping his lines as if talking to you. Suddenly, you felt the weight of something on your shoulders and you looked away from the stage realizing that it was your assistant, Alan, who had just covered you with his jacket. You smiled gratefully as he extended a hand holding your coffee. 
“You should rest for a while before we meet back for sound check”, he suggested and you looked at your watch to see that he was right. Tonight was going to be hectic and a power nap was definitely needed.
You had not even realized that the stage was now empty and the leader was standing right by your side. His eyes were not on you, but on the man now sitting beside you, glancing at his jacket on your shoulders. 
Shrugging the jacket off, you asked, “Are you done? Any issues?”. 
Not answering your question, Namjoon kept staring at Alan and you felt bad for the poor guy. You asked again and this time Namjoon’s lips turned into a smile, “None, jagiya”. Jagiya?! 
Now you were the one staring daggers at him but he did not waver. Instead, with the same smile plastered on his lips, he took off his jacket and placed it on your shoulders, pulling the zipper closer together as he made his way to where Alan was sitting. Alan immediately got up, excusing himself and vacating the seat that now your boyfriend occupied, his hand reaching across your shoulder to pull you into him. 
You resisted. 
“ ‘Jagiya’. Really?! Really, Namjoon?”
He just smiled at that, genuinely this time. “Come on, you know I lose all calm when it comes to you”.
“Calm and senses, both”, you murmured as he laughed and pulled you closer and you let him, closing your eyes and resting before work would call you again.
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Part Eight. "If you're the imposter, you are canonically Bugsy Siegel."
warnings: swearing word count: 2k (not including pictures)
behind the screen (irl dream xf!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist
A/N: ahehahehoho ik sapnap didn't fly to dreams house before they moved in together but this is a fanfic and therefore what i say goes and i say he did :) hope you enjoy!!!!!!
**********
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"SAPNAP!" Y/n yelled into her phone, smiling against the cool device.
"Bugsy!" he said with a laugh.
"You're with Dream?"
"Yeah, you wanna say hi?"
"No, give the phone to Patches!!"
"She literally hates me. She runs away when I see her."
Y/n laughed and heard a voice of protest in the background.
"Dream claims it's because she's shy but she literally hissed at me in my nightmares so I think we have bad blood."
Y/n giggled and balanced the phone between her shoulder and cheek. "You're still on for Among Us tonight, right?"
"Yeah, why? What's up?"
"I was just checking since you're visiting Dream apparently. I don't want to take away from your bro time or whatever."
"Oh, nah, it's good. I'm only here so we can look at places to live together and stuff. He told you I'm moving in with him soon, right?"
"Yeah! That's awesome!"
"Yeah. But, yeah, I love playing games with you! Besides, he has his stupid George plug-in to finish still so I'll be bored. So yes, of course I'm still playing, Bugsy!!!!"
"I've never made a lobby before so I'm just nervous," she said, the feeling evident in her voice.
"Don't worry, I'll make sure none of them pull that stupid prank we pull with Quackity all the time when we tell him we're leaving and pretend like he's muted. It always drags on for like half an hour."
"Okay, good. I'm literally so scared already I don't need hooligans messing with me."
"Don't worry, I got you, Bugsy."
"Thanks. Hey, can you tell Dream he sucks?"
Sapnap groaned. "I don't wanna be your messenger for your love letters to each other."
"Sapnap!" she exclaimed. "No, just... tell him he sucks."
She listened as Sapnap's voice became muffled and she heard him relay the message. A loud, "BUGSY!!" was heard in Dreams voice and she giggled.
"He's dramatically appalled. He said—you know what, no. You guys can talk to each other on your own phones. I'm not being a delivery boy."
"Boo, no fun. I'll let you go so you can hang out with Dream but I can't wait for the game!"
"Me too! See ya Bugsy, love you."
"Love you, Sap!!"
**********
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Y/n drummed her fingers lightly against her desk as she waited for people to join her stream. She was muted, her viewers only left with the sounds of the music she played and the image of her commissioned "starting soon!!" screen. She double-checked the Discord call she was deafened and muted in to make sure her friends were actually there before unmuting her stream and welcoming everyone.
"Chat!!" she announced happily. "Hi! Hello! Welcome one and all to my stream!" She glanced at the chat which was filled with welcomes and announcements of everyone's excitement. She thanked everyone that had donated and gifted subs before checking her surroundings, even though it wouldn't be shown on stream.
She was bundled in a hoodie, her comforter from her bed wrapped around her and trapping her in a cocoon. The lights were off except a candle on her desk and her fairy lights around her room. It was all very serene. She was ready.
A dono came through and she laughed at the question. "Why isn't Dream joining? Um, because he said no. He doesn't have time for me," she joked, recalling them teasing each other about making time for one another. "This just in: Dreamwastaken hates BugsyGames."
Moments later, a $20 dono came through from Dream saying, "not true".
"Dream!" she exclaimed with a laugh. "You can donate and stalk my stream but not play with us? Very rude. Get off my stream and go finish coding, nerd." Despite her words, she couldn't stop smiling.
"Alright, folks! Listen up, today is gonna be so fun. We got Karl, we got Quackity, we got Tubbo, Ranboo, Sapnap, George, Schlatt, Corpse, Sykkuno," she took a dramatic breath and paused, making sure she wasn't forgetting to mention anyone. "Okay? It's gonna be so fun and I'm very excited!" She glanced at chat and smiled at all the positivity.
user4: SYKKUNO AND BUGSY YES
user5: corpse!!!!!! T_T
user2: omg watch out dream, we got another faceless man he might come for ur girl
user7: omg is this the first time bugsy is playing with tubbo and ranboo???
"Yes, I'm very excited to have Corpse and Sykkuno play today! I haven't played anything with them or Schlatt yet but I have played Minecraft with Tubbo and Ranboo not too long ago. So it should be fun!! Okay, let's join the vc!!"
She typed in the text channel that she was joining before unmuting and undeafening herself. Her headphones were immediately filled with voices speaking over each other, one louder than the rest.
"—aren't, but come on, there has to be something! We aren't blind!" It was Quackity. "Well, George is colorblind but—"
"Hey!" George protested of Quackity's fit of laughter.
"I think they'd be cute," Tubbo said.
"Me too!" Sykkuno's sweet voice rang.
"Quackity!" Karl shouted, exasperated. "I promise you they aren't actually dating! Like actually!!! She's my best friend and she would tell me if something was going on!!" His voice was desperate, almost as if he felt like Quackity was doubting his friendship with whoever he was talking about. Wait, Y/n was Karl's best friend. Were they talking about...
"Yeah, that and I'm literally in his house right now," Sapnap said. "That's two people who are close with the sources who haven't heard anything. I've literally asked Dream straight up to his face and he said no. And he's a terrible liar so I would be able to tell if he and Bugsy—"
"Hi everyone!!" Y/n said quickly, snapping out of wanting to listen to the gossip when she remembered she was streaming. She was worried about how detailed everyone would go into their theories and opinions of what sounded like her and Dream dating.
Where did they get that idea? she thought.
She didn't dare look at her chat in case they picked up on what the boys were talking about, which was very likely.
Quackity and Corpse started laughing loudly at Y/n's entrance while Tubbo stammered out an awkward, "Hel-hello Bugsy!" as if he had been caught doing something wrong. Oh, Tubbo, my sweet son, you could never do anything wrong.
"What are... you guys, haha, uh... talking about?" she asked slowly, hoping they would lie if they were talking about what she thought they were.
"The weather," Sapnap lied.
"Uh, uh, uh," Corpse stammered with a small laugh at the end.
"Tax evasion!" Ranboo shouted.
"Don't let these pricks lie to you, Bugsy," Schlatt said casually, his mouth clearly full of food. Probably a corndog or quesadilla or something. She tensed at his honestly, praying he wasn't going to blurt what they actually— "They're talking about you and Dream."
"M-me and Dream?"
"Are you dating? Yes or no?" he asked bluntly.
"Wha—n-no! No, we aren't."
"TOLD YOU!" Karl and Sapnap both yelled.
"Can we just.. play?" she asked with a laugh. She usually liked chatting with everyone before they played things on other people's streams but she was certain the topic was going to stay on her and Dream and she didn't want that. Bugsy and Dream... that has a nice ring to it, she thought before shaking her head to rid it from her mind. Weird.
"I do have one question, Bugsy," Schlatt said. "Bugsy... what is that? All I can think of is Bugsy Siegel."
"Because you're the most New York New Yorker on the planet," she groaned with a small laugh. "Bugsy just sounded cute, don't compare me to a mobster."
"Then don't name yourself after one."
"Please can we play?" Y/n groaned. "I just wanna play."
"Me too!" Tubbo agreed.
"This is why you're my favorite, Tubbo."
"Yeah, let's get this shit over with," Schlatt sighed among all the agreeing to start. "If you're the imposter, you are canonically Bugsy Siegel."
**********
"TUBBO!" Y/n yelled as the defeat screen appeared. The boy laughed as he sputtered out a defense. "You and Ranboo?? My own sons?! How did you guys get away with that? I literally said from the beginning that it was Ranboo and NO ONE listened to me!!"
"Sorry, mother," Ranboo apologized before laughing.
"I don't trust women," Schaltt said.
"Schlatt, why would I target Ranboo or Tubbo if I didn't have solid evidence it was them? I'd blame someone like Sapnap if I was imposter, not my own sons."
Tubbo laughed loudly and George giggled.
"You can't be trusted, Bugsy!" Quackity yelled. "You lie every other goddamn round!"
"BECAUSE I KEEP GETTING IMPOSTER!" she defended as she raised out of her chair slightly. She had never been so angry than when playing Among Us. It was a dangerous game for her. Her covers were thrown off of her body, abandoned at her feet, and her hoodie sleeves were pushed up. Good thing she didn't use a facecam because she looked like she could murder someone right then. "I have no choice but to lie!!!"
A new game started and she relaxed at the sight of her being crewmate again. She had already been imposter three or four times and they had only played six rounds.
She headed straight for the reactor to do her first task, closing out to see Sapnap silently standing behind her.
"Ah!" she yelled, jumping slightly. "You scared me, dude. Why... why are you being so cryptic?" No answer. "Ssssssssap.....nap?" she asked softly, confused by his uncharacteristic silence.
George walked in and stopped. "Why are you guys just staring at each other?"
"I was doing my task and turned around and Sapnap was here and he hasn't said anything. Sap?"
Shuffling was heard from his mic before he started moving again. "Hey guys!" he chirped as if he hadn't been super creepy moments before. "I was AFK, Dream brought me Chick-fil-a."
"Oh," Y/n breathed. "You looked super sus for a minute there, bud."
"Nah, I just got food," he said, voice muffled by said food to confirm. "Dream! Come say hi to your girlfriend!"
Wasn't Sapnap one of the ones that literally just argued with the group that Bugsy and Dream weren't dating?
Without further explanation, Y/n could hear footsteps coming from Sapnap's mic before Dream's voice came through. "Hi, Bug. Hi, George."
Y/n laughed, glad he greeted George too. Maybe that's who Sapnap meant in the first place? Why did she assume they were talking about her? Ugh, everything was confusing when she had butterflies in her tummy at the mention of Dream's name.
"I'm his favorite girlfriend," George teased, circling around Y/n's character.
"Also his only girlfriend," she said.
"Oh also," Dream's voice appeared again. "Sapnap's imposter."
Y/n and George ran away screaming, heading straight for the emergency button.
**********
Later that night, stream over and Y/n tucked into bed, she scrolled through Twitter and laughed at a Tweet Dream had posted. It was like it was made for her. She ran through her camera roll and found her favorite memes that applied to the request.
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She smiled widely and giggled at the butterflies in her stomach when moments later, she received a text from the boy himself. Looks like he wanted her number for more than just to make a cabin vacation group chat (which had yet to be made, she noted).
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tags: OPEN (at the time) (if your name is in BOLD i couldnt tag you sorry!)
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The unplanned fourth part to my apparently-a-series on Essek Thelyss in the context of real-world espionage (parts 1, 2, and 3), today we look at an aspect of his story that doesn’t always apply in a D&D world: how do you prosecute espionage? 
Psych! That’s not the real question. The real question is: do you prosecute espionage? The answer is a) not as obvious as it might seem; and b) going to differ between D&D and the real world, because D&D governments are storytelling tools and IRL governments are...not.
The benefits of prosecuting espionage are obvious: the interests of justice are served, the person responsible can be punished appropriately and in accordance with the law, the full extent of their crimes are revealed (including potentially exonerating other suspects), counterintelligence gets to chalk up a win, and other people thinking about committing espionage themselves are hopefully discouraged. But there are a surprising number of arguments in the “against” column.
Some agencies that identify enemy assets want to leave them in place for their own purposes. For about 20 years during the Cold War CIA reserved the right to just plain not tell the Department of Justice if they had proof someone was engaged in espionage because they wanted the opportunity to turn them as double agents, feed them misinformation, etc. rather than outing and punishing them (President Gerald Ford ended this arrangement by executive order in 1976). This isn’t necessarily a good idea IRL, but it forms the bread and butter of RPG espionage storylines and is definitely something to think about in a D&D context.
In the real world, ideally someone can only be found guilty of a crime and punished accordingly after a trial, and an agency often finds itself with sufficient evidence to doubt a person’s trustworthiness but not enough hard proof to take to court. In those cases agencies may decide to leave that person in place but cut off their access to classified info. Ironically, sometimes this means promoting them - moving the person into a higher-ranking job in a different area that just so happens not to deal in secrets. Sometimes the asset realizes they’re close to being rumbled and goes along with the effort, maybe taking retirement early or changing jobs before they can be pushed, and the whole matter will quietly lapse without anything so formal as a trial. Sometimes someone makes a mistake and sidelines a loyal, competent employee. That’s a judgement call.
In the real world, ideally someone can only be found guilty of a crime and punished accordingly after an open trial. Given how severe the punishments are for espionage, civilized countries do try to stick to that even though holding such a trial carries risks. Providing proof that someone stole secrets generally requires talking about said secrets, which means revealing classified info in court, which may negate trying to keep the information secret in the first place. They may also not want to reveal in court how they figured out that person was a spy, especially if it was a double agent or cryptographic source that fingered them. In D&D-land where monarchs are common and still wield judicial power, fantasy rulers may hand down whatever punishment they please based on whatever evidence they (or the DM) will accept, so this isn’t as much of a concern.
Even a D&D monarchy that doesn’t have to worry about revealing secrets in court might think twice before publicly punishing a high-ranking spy, though, because the only thing more embarrassing than failing to convict a major spy is succeeding. A government having to admit that its people were compromised, especially high-ranking people, is a body-blow to its standing both at home and abroad. It damages trust in the government, makes the public feel unsafe, and makes allies hesitant to share information lest their secrets be leaked as well. Lower-ranking government employees may think, “My boss is selling secrets, why not me too?” or “Why bother to follow security protocol when some mole will give it all away?” Every decision and contribution made by the asset becomes retroactively suspect, even those that had nothing to do with whatever secrets they leaked. The foreign nation to whom they passed information inevitably gets drawn in as well, negatively affecting those relations. And of course everyone involved looks very, very bad.
All of which leads me to say I think there’s a chance - maybe not a good chance, but a chance - that Essek could privately confess the affair to the Bright Queen without major public repercussions. Leylas Kryn could simply declare him a traitor and order his public execution without justifying herself, but it would raise a lot of questions and none of the answers would help her or the ruling dens; Den Thelyss allowing Den Kryn to unilaterally execute a high-profile member - a child of the umavi - without explanation would stoke ferocious rumors about what Essek might have done and cast a major shadow over the entire den. But publicly declaring what Essek had done also doesn’t do the Dynasty any favors. It makes everyone involved look very bad - how could they miss a spy at the highest level? so close to the Bright Queen herself?? who can be trusted??? - especially Den Thelyss, which might lose its place among the ruling three as a result. Publicly outing such a high-ranking Kryn official as compromised might set off the Dynasty equivalent of a Red Scare, too, since the Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount mentions the constant and well-justified Dynasty fear of agents sent by Lolth to destabilize the Kryn out of sheer spite that they got away from her.
By the time Campaign 2 ended the latest clash between Empire and Dynasty had been settled and neither side seemed to want to stir it up again right away. The fact that both stolen beacons have been returned also bolsters the case for letting the matter lie. A confession from Essek clears up remaining doubt on the Bright Queen’s end - while he doesn’t know every Empire agent in the Dynasty, he can tell her exactly how the beacons were stolen and who else was involved, probably clearing the names of many currently under suspicion. Essek would have to resign as Shadowhand, of course, and leave the Dynasty (at least for a couple centuries), but he never seemed interested in being Shadowhand and he wants to go exploring anyway. Den Thelyss definitely wants the whole affair swept under the rug and would go along with whatever story made that happen. Other than Verin I don’t get the impression many people would miss Essek except as a lost opportunity. I hope they’d give him long enough before leaving Rosohna to pack up his cool leyline-weathervane though. He could totally mount that on Yussa’s tower. Or Allura’s!
And that concludes this particular train of thought re: Essek Thelyss in the context of IRL spies and espionage. Again, all of this is only as relevant to the campaign as the players decide it is, so don’t go giving people crap for being “unrealistic” about their versions of how the beacon trade went down. Frankly the last thing you should want here is realism, because “realistic” espionage is a callous world of deception, manipulation, and general human pettiness with no sense of narrative flow.
None of what I’ve talked about is an excuse for Essek’s actions. But it is a reason. It’s why and how a person entrusted with precious national assets could get into a headspace where it seems reasonable, even necessary, to trade them away to foreign enemies. It’s how a person of otherwise decent character & beliefs can end up committing terrible crimes. It’s why that person might sincerely regret what they’ve done, and not just because they fear punishment. The Warmind Rasputin paraphrases Octavia E. Butler saying, “Misdirected by accident or intent, intelligence can foster its own ecstasies of growth and decay.” In other words: sometimes you get too far into your own head. Without an anchor to reality, without perspective, your own mind gets twisted up. Sometimes you just need a friend (or seven) to grab your arm and say, “Breathe.”
(This accidentally turned into a series on Essek & IRL espionage: Parts 1, 2, 3, 4)
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joshstambourine · 3 years
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A Seconds Glance
"Hi I have a request for either Josh or Jake 💛 can I get a story where they see a girl, either at school or they can already be famous in this, and is instantly enamored. I don't know if you've seen The Virgin Suicides, but if you have then something similar to when Trip sees Lux for the first time. I'm interested in how those two would go about getting a girl's attention when they have a crush.💕💕💕" - Anonymous
//Hi Doll! I can’t say I have seen that--- but I will try my best to write something that I feel matches the idea you had. 
I’m gonna be repeating this forever--- but again, I’m so sorry it took me so long to get this request out for you! I decided to go with Josh being in school for this one.//
Warnings: Cursing, awkward beans
Word Count: 1969
Synopsis: Josh had never really believed in love at first sight... but yet....
Josh Kiszka x Fem!Reader
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The first day of sophomore year. For most this was just the start of another school year; a sudden reminder that a new binder or fun pencil case is exciting for all of 10 minutes when it comes to actual classes and work. But for Josh… this year felt like it was filled with possibilities. It sounds like some sort of stupid thing you'd see on a motivational calendar, but it really truly did.
Josh hadn't imagined for a second that he actually would have a chance in making music his career; and yet, he had spent all summer with his band mates playing for different occasions and pubs. All the while they were working, working hard on writing songs that they could be proud to play for others.
All of that said, Josh was returning to high-school this year with a new found amount of confidence and excitement; it showed in every step Josh took. His one hand held loosely on to the arm of his backpack, walking in time with Jake.
"But what do you think? Would it look good on me?" Jake inquired, fingers lightly playing with the mid-length pieces of hair on his head.
"I mean… I don't know…" Josh lightly starts, glancing at his twin and begins to take a good long look at him.
Jake's eyes widened just a touch, his expression becoming one that said, 'Well…?'
"Uh… honestly I don't really know Jake. I've never seen you with anything else than this." Josh admits, then snickers a little, "Except for that one time when we decided it'd be fun to take those scissors and---"
"No, that's fine, I didn't need to think about that." Jake immediately stopped him, his hand going to take a full dive into his mess of dark brown hair. 
"Cmon, it was really funny though. Ma really lost her shit when she saw your head like that." Josh continued to muse, hands folding into his pockets with the utmost of ease. 
Jake shook his head in a mournful way, "I can say I will never go back to a buzz-cut again… not without a fight."
Josh's smile never faltered, it was his laughter that changed, softening into a bit of a sigh as they reached the double doors at the front of the school. With a swing of the doors they both were making their way down the hallway to their lockers.
"Meet by Mr.Shapiro's class before lunch?" Jake questioned, to which Josh nodded. No matter which school the twins went to the teachers seemed to know that the best course of action was to keep them separated. That said Josh and Jake always had separate homerooms at least, through most of their time in school.
"See ya in a bit." Josh waved, taking a few steps back before turning on his heels and heading to his own locker.
Josh's excitement to be back in class showed on his face more than he probably would have wanted. A few pencils in his hand along with a binder filled with blank paper and tucked away dividers.  
As soon as Josh stepped into the class room his eyes were met with many familiar faces. Some of these people he had been in school with since kindergarten; like Meg, a rather tall blunt faced girl with long kinky black hair. She simply threw a peace sign Josh's way as he stepped through the doors; he eagerly returned it, bringing a small smile to Meg's lips. 
With some brisk steps Josh moved to place himself at the back of the classroom, just behind Meg. He threw his things on his desk without much thought. Despite there being a good number of kids he knew... there seemed to be equally just as many new kids. 
Leaning on his desk Josh moved closer to Meg, "Where the hell did these guys come from?" 
Meg's brow lifted as she leaned back a little, "Know the high-school on the east side?" 
"The one where you can get crack for super cheap?" Josh inquired, 
Meg's head bobbed, "They closed it down, so now we get half the kids that went there." She explains with her head resting on her hand in a bored way. 
"Oh shit really? That's a lot of kids---" Josh was quick to respond, glancing around the room. 
"Oh yeah... way too many in my personal opinion --- not that anyone cares." Meg mutters, beginning to click her mechanical pencil. 
Josh's eyes were still taking in all the new faces as he started to respond, "Wow aren't we positive today." 
Meg sighed, "Eh.... I'm just not excited, Justin and I broke up over the summer and I'll have to see him in history." She began to explain, "Things are just really tense, yknow?" 
She waited a moment for him to give some comforting... but still idiotic response, however none came. It finally got Meg to turn and look at him, as she did she immediately noticed that Josh's eyes had widened just a touch, cheeks dusted a light pink. 
Meg followed the line of his eyes to a beautiful young woman. The expression he wore was more than enough to tell Meg that she should move. 
Josh was so busy just... taking the new girl in that he didn't even notice Meg slip to the free desk to the side of the one she was previously sat in. Josh just couldn't put his finger on it, there was something... something so breathtaking about her. Was it her eyes? Or maybe how her hair fell around her face? He couldn't be sure. What he was absolutely sure of was that he had never had a moment in his life where he could hear music just by looking at someone. 
"Hey... do you know if this desk is free?" A new voice shook Josh. It was her. She was standing at a desk to his left with a bit of an awkward air. 
He was just so shaken. What did she say again? Something about a desk? Josh's lips parted, "Uh--- I uh, what did you--?" 
"No that one isn't open, but the one just in front of my dude Josh is, right Josh?" Meg interrupted, pointing to the desk ahead of him. 
"Oh y-yeah, that one's open! Definitely 100% open! It couldn't be more open even if it tried!" Josh started spouting, he really wasn't even aware that his mouth had moved, and that was clear in the fact that it just kept moving when she had come to sit down. "Do you need any pencils at all?? I have like 20!" He continued, though his hand held one full sized pencil and one shorter than the average person's pinkie... both chewed on. "I mean not on me but--- who needs a pencil right?" 
The girl laughed a little awkwardly, her gaze moving from Josh to Meg and then to the desk. "No, no I'm okay thank you though." She slipped into the chair, keeping her gaze frontwards. 
Meg looks to Josh with a shocked look, 'What was that??' She mouthed, 
Josh responded with an absolutely mortified expression. He would never say he was the smoothest guy on the planet, but he had never been that awkward in his life. 
Meg shook her head before reaching out to tap the girl's shoulder, "I'm Meg!" She introduces, "And that goober is Josh." 
The girl lightly moved to glance over her shoulder at Josh in a shy way. "It's nice to meet you both. I'm (Y/N)." She hummed with a sweet smile. 
"That's a pretty name, isn't it Josh??" Meg quickly said, trying to get him to continue the conversation in a less awkward way.
Josh nodded very enthusiastically, "The prettiest name I've heard in a long time!" He said with a smile, 
(Y/N)'s cheeks began to hold a flush of their own. "Oh! Uh... th-thank you!" She sputtered out. 
'OH FUCK. She's so cute.' Josh thought to himself, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat with a shaky swallow. 
Little did Josh know that (Y/N) was thinking something very similar. She might not make it as obvious as he was, but being so much closer now... being able to see the warmth in his brown eyes, seeing how his wavy brown hair came to cup his cheeks --- she couldn't help but continue to stare back at him. 
The only thing that could pull them both out of the little trance they had fallen into was the bell. Both of them quickly looked toward it, followed by a man's voice at the front of the class. 
"Alright everyone, take your seats!" 
(Y/N) was reluctant but she turned herself to look toward the front of the class. A little bit nervous, but mustering an ounce of courage she tore a piece of paper from her notebook quietly and began to scribble something down. 
Josh hardly got anything out of that language arts class, he was way too busy trying to figure out what excuse he could make to talk with (Y/N) again. He was just rattling through every little conversation starter he had ever heard in his life... but none of them felt like they would work. 
Before long the bell had rung overhead once more and everyone was shuffling to grab their things and head to all of their next classes. 
Biting his lip, Josh was determined to catch (Y/N) before she could head off to her own next class. Luckily for him she had a similar idea. Both turning to each other as they stepped out of the classroom, it was painfully quiet at first. It seemed as if they were trying to get their thoughts together really. 
Finally they spoke, 
"Hey would you---" "I was wondering if you'd---" 
At once. 
A small awkward laugh left their lips, "Please, go ahead I was going to say something dumb---" Josh quickly said moving to rub the back of his neck. 
(Y/N)'s lips parted as she let out and unsure chuckle, eyes moving downwards for a moment. "I was just going to ask if you would mind if I joined you for lunch? I just am new and don't really have any---" 
"Yes!" Josh quickly said, "Yes absolutely. You didn't even have to ask, you could have just showed up if you wanted to!" He quickly says to her. 
The speed he seemed to talk at entertained (Y/N) a heck of a lot. A smile creeping across her face, "Okay! Thank you!" She responded. 
"Do you know where the cafeteria is? I can show ya if you want??" Josh quickly continued, "I mean I'm sure you could find it on you're own, you seem very smart and capable. Most women are to be honest; I remember reading an article about how men need to---" 
"That would be really great actually." (Y/N) smiled in a gentle way. 'He's even more nervous than I am.' She thought to herself. 
"Oh-oh! Okay cool! Uh, do you know where Mr.Shapiro's class is?" He asks, 
(Y/N) seemed to think for a minute, "113... right? I have him for chemistry this afternoon I think." She mutters. 
Josh swiftly nods his head, "That's the one!! Meet me there okay?" He says. 
(Y/N) nodded back, understanding the little plan they now had. "I'll see you in a little bit then?" She lightly asks. 
"Yeah absolutely." Josh began to grin, suddenly beyond excited. Even as she began to walk off to her class all he could think about was how sure he was now that this year was going to be fantastic. 
That was until a warning bell played overhead, "Oh shit--" Josh jumped in shock, immediately beginning to run to his next class.
//That's all for now lovely! I do actually have an idea on how to continue this one if anyone would like! Pretty please let me know in the comments if that's something you guys would like 💜//
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