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r0ckgoblin · 1 year

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Would that I- bella ramsey xreader

“true that i saw her hair like the branch of a tree”

summary: bella is a person of many trades, your favorites just so happen to be when they play guitar and sing. you have always admired this about her, as any friend would. b/c you and bella have always been supportive of each other’s interest, they always come to you first when he’s written a song or learned a new one. why would this time be any different?

a/n: idk how to write summaries… but anyways enjoy:) (p.s. hc wise, i think they listen to hozier…yea she definitely does)

warnings: unproper grammar(maybe) how i've passed all my lit classes i will never know. probably not fully proofread, i miss the smallest things smh

*all pronouns for bella used*

you wiggle the key into the stubborn door of bella’s apartment, eventually winning the fight against it. opening the door you’re met with the sound of guitar strings being plucked and you smile softly. setting your bag on the kitchen counter you begin wandering around looking for your best friend.

“hey bels?” you call out.

“in here” he says from the sunroom.

you laugh softly grabbing a small throw blanket from the couch.

"hi" you smile, bending down to hug her, finding it a little difficult due to the guitar in their lap. the smell of old spice wonderfully clouds your sense of smell as they reach up to hug you back. the two of you gently sway for a few seconds before you pull back to adjust yourself next to him on the small couch, covering your legs with the blanket.

"how was your day?" he asks smiling over at you.

"it was good, slow, it was just a lot of cleaning up some scenes" you exhale recalling your most recent project, a movie you had been working on for the last few months, one only the people a part of it and the people closes to you knew about. acting was stressful sometimes, but the final project was always worth it, and that's something you and bella could both agree on.

"those days are inevitable, but i believe in you." they say as the lean back to rest their head on your shoulder. this caused you to blush a light pink color, luckily, he couldn't see your face at the moment. you didn't know what it was but lately you've been feeling certain ways about your best friend, and you were scared you wouldn't be able to hide those feelings for much longer. the only thing stopping you was the incessant fear of losing her friendship if they didn't feel the same way.

after moments of peaceful silence bella breaks it be jolting up excitedly. "oh! i learned a new song!"

"really? show me!'' you smiled mirroring her excitement. for as long as you've known bella your favorite thing about them has been her ability to play guitar and sing. they were so good at it, and it seemed to be a big passion of his as well.

"of course! you're going to love it, it's a hozier song" they beam at you holding eye contact waiting for your reaction, which didn't take long because you immediately grinned so big.

" you learned another one? which one?!" you question with giddy.

"you'll have to guess."

"c'mon that's no fun" you whine putting on a fake frown.

"you'll live" she jokes.

"okay, fine go." you pout resulting in a laugh from her.

she plucks some cords before playing, listening to them intently. you just stare at him in awe. before you know it, you're hearing the first notes of hozier's "would that i". you gasp in amazement, and they let a small laugh leave their mouth, somehow without losing focus. as if it couldn't get any better, he also starts singing the words along with the music.

you feel your eyes water, you have no idea why that would be happening. was it the emotional toll of being in love with your best friend, someone who you've watched grow into a beautiful and talented human being? the fear that if you were to express how you feel, it could all turn against you, and you lose the one person who means the most in the world to you? or maybe it's just because the song is so beautiful? its defiantly the song.

you got so lost listening to his voice and the way the sun setting through the window made their skin glow and made his hair shine like honey. shit you were head over heels.

by down you had drowned out her voice due to your staring that you didn't even realize they had finished. not until they're talking directly at you. you blush a little realizing you 100% got caught staring.

"so what do you think?" she ask not making eye contact.

"i loved it," you smiled,

"thank you so much." he grins, and you swear you see faint pink on their cheeks.

"i, um-", you go to say something, but you stop yourself.

"what was that?''

"i uh... i should get back to my hotel.''

"just stay here'' she says but its more of a begging question.

"no, i can't, ive got an early morning and we both know i'm not quiet in the mornings, i wouldn't want to wake you that early.'' you try and lie.

"y/n please'' he begs, grabbing your hand giving you those big brown puppy eyes.

"i'm sorry.'' you shake your head.

they tug you closer, your chests touching. they stare you in the eyes, you notice her give a quick glance to your lips. you in return look to theirs.

"there's something uh... i've mean meaning to tell you," they exhale nervously, "and i really need to get it off my chest. this um..." they swallow hard, "this is harder than i thought."

"shut up" you say with a fake serious tone.

"what i haven't even gotten to what i wanted to say." they knit their eyebrows in confusion.

"you don't have to, if it's what i think it is, i already know," you smile, "because i want to tell you the same thing."

"y/n-"

"i like you, like REALLY like you okay!"

"i-" they were speechless. you two just stared back at each other, waiting for the other to speak.

"i like you two, like reeaallyy like you." they smile wide.

you smile and release a breath of relief, resting your forehead on theirs. you two stay like that giggling back and forth.

"can i kiss you?" they speak up.

"of course." you smile.

she then softly presses their lips to yours, grabbing your face, she deepens the kiss making it more passionate but soft. his hands travel to your hair gently brushing it while your hands find the small of their back caressing softly. this goes on until your both pulling away for air, laughing breathlessly.

"so... stay the night?"

you laugh hugging them as they spin you around like something out of a movie.

the rest of the night you spend cuddled on the couch watching your favorite movies until you're both passed out in each other's arms.

a/n: AAAAHHH LETS GOOOO!!!! so BAHAHAAHAH this took longer than i wanted and it's not even as long as i wanted it:( anyways here it is, i hope you really enjoy it. there will hopefully be more in the future:) feel free to request, also let me know if my replies are off bc i clicked on one of my post and it says my comments are turned off??? idk, but my asks should be on:) love you! have a great day/night!🫶

#bella ramsey #bella ramsey fic #the last of us #the last of us hbo #bella ramsey x reader

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dont-f-with-moogles · 22 days

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Hi Terra Darling ❤️

Festive fic request with prompt number 6 "family invited an old crush/first love to a dinner party" for Levihan

My headcanons for this prompt:

Hange or Hange's family invites Zeke to a dinner party & Levi is far from happy OR fed up by Levi being single for a long time, Kuchel invites Hange to a dinner party OR Levi or Hange or their family invites an old crush (Zeke/Erwin/Petra, pick one) & it turns out they both used to date him/her lol OR you come up with your own because it will be amazing whatever you decide!!

Happy holidays 🎄❄️

Now or Never (Part 2) Characters: Levi x Petra; Levi x Hange; Mike x Nanaba Word Count: 2188 words

The dining room lay almost bare. No photographs adorned the walls; their ornaments were still wrapped in paper, stored in boxes upstairs. Even the low, wooden dining table didn’t quite suit this new room. As he sipped his wine Levi considered how it had once sat in Mike and Nanaba’s old flat, centrally occupying the square-shaped space. The table still proudly displayed the tiny tree which Hange had bought for the couple as a flat-warming present over a year ago. Of course, they had never planned to live there forever. This new dining room was longer and in want of furniture to fit it. Its walls were a pale, non offensive shade of magnolia - the exact choice of homeowners intending to cover over the marks - the mistakes - they had once made before moving on. Mike was pouring refills into their glasses. Levi placed a hand over his whilst, beside him, Petra quietly accepted.

“Come on…” Mike urged, “you’re getting the train back right?”

“I’ll take a tea instead.”

“We’ll put the kettle on after dinner.”

Reluctantly, he removed his hand.

“This it then?” Levi’s eyes shifted to the empty seat beside Mike. Of course, if they had been expecting more than two guests, then there would be a fifth floor cushion set out. Despite his uncertainty, Levi’s shoulders relaxed a little. He had experienced the same gnawing sensation when he and Petra had arrived at their house. Removing their shoes at the door, Levi had glanced down to see several discarded pairs beside theirs. He had assumed that someone had arrived before them, only to discover that they were the first.

“Yeah,” Mike replied, “Hange got caught up with an assignment as usual. Something about a deadline.”

Levi exhaled through his nose. He doubted that very much.

His hand brushed Petra’s shoulder with renewed reassurance as Nanaba appeared in the doorway. The fragrant scent of spices seemed to waft after her.

“The rice will be done in five minutes,” she announced. “Hope you guys are hungry!” “Can’t wait,” Levi commented, “... and nice place you’ve got here. What’s it like living somewhere with two floors?”

“Ah you know, it’s better than being cooped up in the flat.” Nanaba shared a sentimental glance with Mike. “We’ll miss it… but this is better. Even if we’ve got some decorating to do!”

She smiled over at Petra, who was nodding along politely despite not having been part of this previous era… an era of small apartments, of Mike and Nanaba as university graduates… of Levi and… Hange.

“So, how was your holiday? Where did you say you-” Nanaba frowned, reaching over to grab her phone from the side table. “Sorry - hold that thought. Hello?”

“It was so beautiful…. and just nice to spend time with family you know?” Petra continued to address Mike in Nanaba’s absence. “I’m sorry that I missed out on your New Year’s party though! I heard it was a fun night…”

Levi took a long sip of his wine.

“I don’t know if you’d call it much of a party,” Mike chuckled, “Nana and I were asleep just after midnight so we missed the excitement… guess you’ll have to ask Levi.”

“Hange’s outside!” Nanaba reappeared just as Levi knocked his glass sharply against the table. “Apparently they made their deadline after all.”

There came the sound of a door closing, followed by footsteps in the hall. Petra gave Levi’s arm a little squeeze. He smiled at her in response, though with a warmth which did not quite reach his eyes.

Voices echoed outside; Hange fawning over the staircase and laughing with Nanaba about the previous owner’s choice of carpet. Levi’s jaw set. Then, both of them emerged in the doorway.

“Evening!” Hange beamed around at them. Briefly, their eyes met Levi’s before they glanced away. “Sorry for almost flaking!”

“Why quit the habit of a lifetime?” Mike teased. Levi reached for his wine again. His mouth felt parched; his tongue lay heavy and useless. He craved water - something hydrating - rather than more alcohol.

“Nice to see you again Petra.” Hange gave a little bow of their head as Nanaba dragged another floor seat over to the table. “Heard you’ve just come back from your travels! Was it a good trip?”

“Oh yes, it was so beautiful and relaxing. The new year is the best time to go…”

Levi listened intently to Petra’s story for a second time, refusing to allow his eyes to stray from her face.

“...but it’s a shame I couldn’t spend New Year’s with you guys.”

Casually, Hange picked up the glass of wine which Mike had just poured.

“Oh you know, it was a quiet one in the end. Nothing much happened.”

Levi stared at them, utterly astounded by their nonchalance on the subject.

“Mike said you were all asleep just after midnight!”

“Well, Levi and Hange were up, weren’t you? Mike said he heard you both-” Nanaba walked in with a pot of steaming rice, just as Levi’s floor seat lurched out.

“Whoa!” Petra turned to her left. “Levi, what’s the hurry?”

“Seat got caught on the rug,” he lied. His eyes flew to Hange’s face who appeared quite composed by comparison. They blew out a little sigh as they lifted their glass again.

Nanaba set down the pot of rice. “No jogging the table. I’ve slaved away at this!”

Mike raised his eyebrows as Nanaba began serving heaped spoons onto plates. Petra received hers gratefully. Levi was just thankful to have something to occupy his hands.

“This smells amazing…” Hange praised her. “I love curry rice!”

“So… you had a late night, huh Levi?” Not to be deterred, Petra had rerouted from Hange’s interjection to their earlier conversation. She grinned at Levi expectantly over her plate of food. As he opened his mouth to explain, Mike cut in with a rumble of low laughter.

“Oh yeah… took him years but he finally got Hange where he’d always wanted them.”

Levi dropped his plate on the table, spilling rice onto its wooden surface

“Yeah…” Mike continued as Petra’s head whipped round, “...never thought we’d see the day, but there the two of them were, getting busy-”

Horrified, Levi willed Petra to look away from him as he frantically tried to scrape up rice grains from the wooden tabletop. He could feel her eyes on him; the more she stared, the more the tips of his ears burned.

“- at the sink.” Mike took a large spoonful of rice and curry, savouring its flavour alongside his own unendurable comedy. “Who would have thought you’d finally get Hange to wash a plate?”

Hange’s forced laugh was lost in the more genuine giggles from Nanaba and Petra. Although the threat which had been silently hanging over Levi had not fallen yet, he could still feel it swaying over his head. He set his spoon down on the side of his plate and let his trembling hand fall into his lap.

“...yeah, I heard you doing the dishes,” Mike explained as the laughter around the table died away, “...at like, four in the morning.”

“Well, a little cleaning up is the least you guys could do, seeing as you all insisted on staying at my place,” Levi muttered bitterly.

“You know we appreciated you sharing your floor with us!” Nanaba sighed, widening her eyes.

“...and some of us even got to share your bed,” Mike teased Levi again with a hearty wink.

“Gunther,” Levi told Petra automatically. He reached for his wine again. By this point, he was going to need several refills to endure the rest of the evening.

“...I’m guessing he wasn’t who you really wanted sleeping next to you that night… huh, Levi?” Nanaba joined in, much to Petra’s delighted ‘shh-ing!’

Levi waved away their jokes again, his mouth twisted as though he was being forced to chew on tiny white grubs rather than rice. As he lifted his head he caught Hange’s eye again… and held their look.

This was dangerous.

That same rising dread intensified; remained suspended over Levi as he continued doggedly through one of the most excruciating dinners of his life. And yet, there was something which threatened to consume him whole; a feeling caught halfway between fear and fascination. Like oil and water, his conflicted emotions lay beside one another; equal parts danger and desire. They could never be reconciled, but only hold firmer in the presence of one another. Ever since New Year’s, something had started to take form… something that any and all other distractions hadn’t managed to douse…

Levi felt the brush of gentle fingers on his wrist. Petra was smiling at him. He closed his hand over hers, watching as their fingers lay entwined upon his knee. He couldn’t look at Hange again.

“What was it you said that night, Levi?” Nanaba continued, “just this once, then then never again?”

Levi’s thumb stroked over Petra’s knuckles as his mind drifted back to that night. He didn’t want to remember the warmth of the blanket enclosed around his body and Hange’s. He didn’t want to breathe in their scent; to feel the heat lifting from their cheeks; to have his throat run dry as they drew towards him…

“Levi, we can sleep here and never talk about this again. Or…”

Back in the present, Levi squeezed Petra’s hand.

“And I meant it…” he managed huskily, “...you guys can stay at a hotel next time.”

In part it was due to his own habit, but also out of a desire to extract himself from the table, as Levi took up their empty plates. He carried the dishes out to the kitchen and set them beside the sink. For a moment he gazed through their kitchen window at the view of Mike and Nanaba’s new neighbourhood. Rows of detached, two-storey houses stood adorned with gleaming windows and wooden balconies. The pair of them had taken the next step of their journey… their wedding was to follow in a few months…

Behind him there came the tinkling of glass and the sound of a door closing. Levi glanced over his shoulder.

“Um… just getting more wine.” Hange lifted the bottle they had taken from the fridge. Levi uttered a throaty sound halfway between a cough and a derisive snort.

“Sure as fuck you weren’t coming to wash these up…” Levi glowered at them until Hange took a step closer. They set their glass down beside Levi’s stack of plates. Through the open door and across the hall they could both hear the chatter of the other guests.

Levi turned away and began to run the water. Behind, Hange poured a little more wine into their glass. He couldn’t help but turn his head again. Hange was checking the label as they set the bottle down. With a sigh Levi lifted a plate and sank it into the dishwater, missing Hange’s eyes as they moved over him.

“Levi… do you want…”

He shifted around again to look at them. His mouth dried up before he could speak. He took in Hange’s broad shoulders beneath their white shirt; the deep, rich brown of their imploring eyes… There was always something so earnest, so fearless in their expression.

Levi’s eyes remained upon their face.

“...I’ll leave the bottle here.” They turned to leave the room, but stopped after taking a step. When they spoke again, their tone was low, conspiratorial.

“You know I won’t say anything, right…?”

Levi felt a ripple of tension travel down his arms. His hand seized up; the brush he was holding clattered onto the kitchen floor.

“Anyway, nothing happened that night…” Hange gave a little laugh without a trace of humour in it, “...after all, you made it pretty clear what you wanted.”

Slowly, they began to approach him.

“Just like I have to… right now.” Hange was smiling at him, a gentle blush dusting their cheeks. “You know when it’s your shot right? Now or never…”

The air itself lay thick and heavy. Levi was rooted to the spot, his mind clouded with them as they took another step. Oil and water. They couldn’t- Petra was seated in the next room, laughing with their friends.

Again, he remembered the blanket that had embraced them as they lay together on his couch. Levi could feel their warm breath on his mouth. It was just the two of them under night’s black canopy, threaded with the lights of a million stars. Whilst the rest of the world had slept, they had lain so closely together… they had almost…

“So Levi…”

Hange’s lip trembled before their jaw set. Behind their glasses, their eyes were glazed with a love so profound that it took Levi’s breath away.

“If I told you now that… despite it all… bad timing, lack of communication, people and work and life getting in the way… despite my initial hypothesis and all the test runs in my head… my findings are still the same.”

Hange took a shuddering breath.

“You are all I ever wanted. That’s… what I’ve decided.”

He felt their fingers trace his shirt sleeve.

“...what about you, Levi?”

Part 1: Now or Never (NSFW)

#sorry I kind of ran with my own thing!#hope you like it Val <3 #levi ackerman #hange zoe #levihan #levi x hange #petra ral #rivetra #levi x petra #mike zacharias #aot nanaba #mikenana #mike x nanaba #aot vets #tw cheating #attack on titan #snk #my writing

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drstonetrivia · 6 months

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Chapter 204 Trivia

What we thought may be a politics arc may in fact become a brotherly feud…

Galileo's quote is taken from his book "The Assayer", considered to be one of the pioneering works of the scientific method. At the time, most science was done by philosophical arguments rather than observation and trying to understand the mathematics behind them.

Math is the universal language because the symbols may change, but the meanings/axioms cannot. Because of this, the cover of the Golden Record placed on Voyager 1 (the probe leaving our solar system) has instructions written in math in the hopes some future beings can understand.

Ryusui wasn't wearing two swords last chapter, I wonder where they came from and why he's wearing them now…

(Maybe this is why Sai was running from him haha!)

Mathematical errors have ruined a lot of space missions: the Mariner 1 was destroyed because of a missing hyphen, and the Mars Climate Orbiter was destroyed on landing because of a failure to convert units.

Avoiding these errors was very difficult when it was all done by hand.

This seems to be at least partially true, however the practice has lessened over the decades. Indian-educated parents and grandparents may remember, but students these days probably only need to learn up to 19x19!

The HR industry in India is incredibly large, and are a very useful resource to have for any business looking to scale up. It's not surprising that the Nanami Corporation set up a university there!

Sai appears to be the 554th most popular name in India and can be used for both genders, but it's generally a male name.

The equations in the background here I haven't identified yet, but the gamma (γ) thrust here may be alluding to the thrust equation used with rocket engines in space. The gamma is the specific heat ratio of the gas.

The day is October 1st, so the team likely left Spain sometime between September 15th-20th if it did in fact take them 10 days to travel the distance (with some delays because of the Suez situation).

The food here may be a somewhat generic curry as the sound effect seems to indicate, or it could also be lamb gosht based on the color, region, and spices used.

Technically we don't know that Ruri specifically called for the defensive positions, but we do know everyone in Japan is probably in them.

I think this is the same sky image as the one Tsukasa saw in chapter 188, but with a different star pattern.

The Fellenius method and what Senku is actually doing here is dividing the slopes into segments and calculating how stable each one is using the properties of the dirt and rock. Putting the segments together should give you how likely a rock slide is. Strata are layers of rock.

The many-armed pose Sai is found in is a reference to Durga, a major Hindu deity. She is associated with protection, strength, motherhood, destruction and wars.

This comment I believe is Chelsea's from the "I'm not a fan" part, with the "baaad" learnt from Chrome's habit.

The meaning of her comment is confusing, but it might be because the last pretty-boy character introduced was a villain (Stanley), however shes also a fan of Hyoga…?

Sai's outfit is very simple and rather lacking compared to Ryusui's, however they share elements such as the collar type and addition of a belt.

The belt buckle is very interesting, it doesn't follow Ryusui's nor Nanami Corp.'s branding and looks like a C+.

My guesses for the meaning: -C+, the programming language, based off the fact he was petrified on his laptop presumably. -C, the Roman numeral, indicating 100+ because of the million-times brainpower comment (million in Japanese is 百万, 百=100). -C, from E=mc^2, for light speed.

Sai's odd yell ("peegyaaaah!") may be a computer joke, as the sound effect "ピ" (pi) tends to be used for computer beeps, like pressing a button.

A similar sound has been used in the past for Xeno's encryption device.

Sai's character could go a lot of directions since he's unlikely to be one of the traditional nerds they described, nor one like Joel since Joel exists. What Ryusui did to scare off his older brother though, I'm very curious about…

#trivia #dr stone #chapters #sai nanami #204 #bit of me-trivia here: i got spoiled from the leaks from someone updating ryusui's wiki page to include sai and i assumed it was a joke #until i read the chapter and was like “ah.”#i still wish there were more hints to sai's existence before he suddenly appeared out of nowhere

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fandom-alley · 6 months

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Strangers on Vacation | Part 1

Summary: After a bad breakup on what was supposed to be a fun 3 year anniversary week long cruise, Reader is stranded on the boat in the middle of the ocean. With plans to disembark at the port the next day but nowhere to sleep tonight, she accepts a spare bed from the stranger over dressed for a vacation. Otherwise known as Spencer Reid. Pairing: Spencer/fem reader, plus size reader, mid size reader (whichever you imagine while reading) Category: Fluff, angst, meet cute (sorta?) BAU on mandatory vacation time Warnings: emotional abuse, body shaming, (at the beginning breakup), alcohol drinking/mentions, self-conscious thoughts (Eventual spice but not in this part) please let me know what I missed! Word Count: 2k Notes: I wrote most of this in august, finally feeling up to posting! Part one of 3 or 4. This first chapter is a bit heavy with the breakup and how it effects readers thoughts on herself, but the main story is about loving yourself and self worth and of course Spencer and his crush at first sight. And the BAU on a much needed vacation! I imagine later seasons Reid, with the curls and facial scruff and stuff.

Also on AO3 Masterlist

I don’t know why I insisted on celebrating our three year anniversary on a week long cruise ship vacation. Three years wasn’t even that much to celebrate. One year? Sure, you can celebrate all you’ve learnt about each other and been through as you navigated that first year together. Five years? Absolutely. What a milestone. By five years you’ve probably gotten a place together, started planning a family, or maybe even gotten married. But three? Stuck in the middle there between two big celebrations. Little old three. How boring.

Maybe that’s why I wanted the big hoorah. A romantic week away together. After all, in our three years of being together, we still lived in our own apartments, never talked about children, and the thought about marriage was enough to make my stomach turn. Maybe this vacation would change that.

I was very, very wrong.

The arguing started, you guessed it, three hours into the trip. Just about little things at first. Like which side of the counter in the bathroom belonged to who. Mine was the right side, of course. It’s always the right side. Any time I spent the night at John’s place, his stuff was always on the left and I would place mine on the right. But apparently I was wrong, and he always had his stuff on the right side, as he ever so kindly pointed out by yelling. I’m sure our cruise cabin neighbours were loving us already.

Then it was about what activity we were going to do first. I suggested dinner and a show in the entertainment lounge, since it was nearing dusk and well past time to eat. But he pushed back, wanting to head straight for the main deck swimming pool with the swim up bar and jacuzzis. We argued for about five minutes before I relented. I excused myself to the bathroom to calm down and change into my swim suit.

For this trip I had bought some new super cute bikini’s. And in honour of my first time on a boat, and also for the first night on the cruise, I chose to wear the bikini with blue and white stripes. A nautical vibe that I found very fitting for the occasion.

However, when I emerged from the bathroom donned in said bikini because I hadn’t put my cover up dress on yet, John looked me up and down with a scowl before huffing out a breath and turning away. He busied himself unpacking his suitcase, already wearing his own swim trunks and a white t-shirt.

“What?” I asked to his back, since he apparently refused to look at me.

“Nothing,” he spat out.

“Clearly it’s something. You’re acting annoyed or disgusted or something.” I replied while walking to my own suitcase to dig out that cover up dress.

“I am disgusted,” he stated. He stilled his movements as I neared closer to the bed with our suitcases on top.

“At what?” I asked curiously. I found the dress and held it against my body, trying to judge if it would be too weird to wear overtop of blue and white stripes. But it was a white dress, so I figured it should be fine.

“At you,” John answered. “You’ve let yourself go.”

My heart fell to the floor, as did the dress I was holding. I watched, speechless, as John finally turned around to stare at me in disgust. His gaze went from my head down to my toes and back up again. Where normally that kind of gazing would be taken as someone appreciating my body, I could feel the distaste radiating off of him.

“What?” I managed to breathe out. Maybe I didn’t hear him correctly.

“You’ve let yourself go,” he repeated. “Look at you, you’re even spilling out of your bikini. I thought maybe when you said we were going on a cruise you would take it as an opportunity to get in shape again. Apparently I was wrong.”

He took my silence as an excuse to keep talking. Ranting about all of the things that were evidentially wrong with me. Too much fat on my thighs, too much around my waist, too much gathered on my stomach, even my breasts were too big now. I wrapped my arms around myself as he talked, trying to cover up and hide away from his harsh words, until eventually he said something that snapped me out of it.

“I don’t even want to be seen out in public with you looking like that,” he snarled.

“Well then, you don’t have to,” I snapped back. “Because this is over. We’re done. I’m leaving.”

“That’s it? You’re not even going to fight for this relationship?” He yelled as he watched me roughly shove the cover up dress over my head.

“Fight for it? By doing what, loosing weight? Starving myself so I can ‘meet your standards’?” I laughed harshly in his face. “You don’t see me complaining to you about your balding head.”

His hands immediately went to touching his hair as he turned to find the nearest mirror.

“My hair is not balding,” he whined.

“Try taking a mirror to the back of your head and then tell me that,” I said.

Unfortunately he wasn’t balding as much as I would have liked in this moment. The patch of visible skin on the crown of his head was hardly noticeable to the average passerby. But having known and been with John for years, I was seeing the pattern increase a little bit each year. Not fast enough now for my anger though. I used to think it was kind of cute. A reminder that we were aging together. Every time I would notice it I would get visions of us old and grey and bald, sitting on rocking chairs together as we complained about the days youths.

Now I just wanted to see that head of his shoved into some mud or something.

Angrily, I shoved my bathroom belonging’s back into my suitcase, roughly pulling the zipper to get it to close. I picked up dress from the floor, quickly pulling it over my head as I shoved my sandals back onto my feet, made sure I had my phone, and started to drag the suitcase with me out the door.

“Where do you even think you’re going to go? We’ve already left the port!” John yelled as I neared the door.

“I don’t know, and I don’t fucking care! As long as it’s away from you!” I yelled right back and stormed out the door.

He made a good point, I realized as I stalked down the hallway. We were already floating in the middle of the ocean by now, with the sun almost completely set. But there was no way I would be sharing a bed with that asshole for the next week.

How could he even say those things about me? And to my face, no less. It’s true. I did gain weight over the last year. I went up three pant sizes and two bra cup sizes. But I figured since we’d already been together for a while that he was used to me and my size. He never gave any indication before. Sure when we met I was small, but I was also younger then and had a very active job. Then I got laid off and replaced that job with an office job, took up baking as a side hustle, and obviously I taste tested everything I made.

Determined to figure out my sleeping arrangements before it got pitch black outside, I pushed all thoughts of John into the back of my mind. I made my way to the cruise ship lobby, where a few people were milling about looking at excursion brochures or just sitting in some of the overly big chairs decorating the room.

“Excuse me?” I spoke softly to the front desk attendant as to not draw attention from the other guests in the lobby. “Hi, I’m from room 209. I was wondering if there’s a room I can switch into please.”

“I’m sorry, Miss. We’re sold out.” The attendant informed me with a most definitely fake sad face.

“You’re kidding. A cruise ship this big and you don’t even have one extra room?”

“We had a few large groups book up multiple chunks of rooms. So no, I’m sorry. We don’t have extra space.”

Not wanting to stir up attention and make a scene, I thanked them for their help even though they were unhelpful, and turned away from the desk.

“Great,” I mumbled to myself as I walked away.

“Excuse me? I have an extra bed in my room if you need a place to stay.” I heard the voice coming up behind me. I slowed my pace until the person came to a stop in front of me.

The voice belonged to a very handsome tall man, with wild curls, a bit of facial hair, soft eyes, and a small smile. He wore a rather odd outfit for a cruise ship. Brown dress pants and a purple collared shirt with a knitted vest overtop. I was sweating already in a bikini and a light white dress, so he must be scorching underneath that getup.

“Oh, thank you so much for that offer, sir. But I’ll just bunk with one of my other friends, it’s okay.” I told him, not wanting to let some stranger in on my relationship problems. Before he had a chance to reply I walked off as fast as I could without it seeming like I was trying to run away from him. I’m sure his intentions were good. But you can’t trust people randomly like that.

I ended up wandering the ship for another hour, passing by the entertainment lounge that I had so badly wanted to be in hours ago. I also passed a games room, a gym which gave me bad feelings after the breakup that just occurred, as well as a library. With options running slim, I slipped into that library and rolled my suitcase to a secluded chair in the back. It was already pretty late, and I was so exhausted from the day of traveling to get to the boat and the events that followed, so as soon as I curled up in the chair I fell asleep.

It felt like a second later when someone was tapping on my shoulder waking me up. Groggily, I cracked my eyes open and looked up at the offender.

“Miss, I’m sorry, but it’s after midnight and the library is closed. You can’t sleep in here,” they said. It was a staff member who hardly looked old enough to be legal drinking age. When I didn’t reply, they continued. “If you don’t leave I’m going to have to call security to escort you out, and I really don’t want to have to do that.”

Well great. There went my plan to spend the night in the library and get off the boat at tomorrows dock and somehow figure out my way back home to Virginia. Before I could even stand up from the chair, the man from earlier was back at my shoulder.

“Hey, there you are. I’ve been looking for you for ages, sorry we got split up before I could give you the room key.” He was saying as he helped me get out of the chair. He looked over to the employee, “Sorry, we were meant to meet up when we got on the ship and somehow ended up getting separated. I didn’t mean for her to fall asleep in the library after hours. We’ll be on our way now.”

I was too tired to protest as I let the man grab my suitcase and escort me out of the library. We went up the elevator to the top floor, which my tired brain knew was the floor with the most expensive rooms. It was hard to pay attention to where we were going as I was pretty much asleep on my feet, but eventually we arrived at his room. I saw enough of it to confirm that he wasn’t lying about having an extra bed, before I was falling onto said bed and promptly passing out.

Thank you so much for reading! Please consider reblogging or giving it a like to show your support!

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/fem reader #alleys writing

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nine-of-words · 10 months

Text

No Vacancy (Part Five)

M Merfolk x M Orc Reader

PREVIOUS || STORY TAG || NEXT

Wordcount: 3028

Content Warnings: Smoking, References to Sex Work

This segment was emotionally exhausting to write (complimentary)

“Eat.”

Rosing all but slams the bowl down in front of you, where you’ve been sitting in your cabin staring out the porthole, lost in thought.

You’ve been so distracted with your agenda and the calculations you've been scratching out that you didn’t even notice that she must have started cooking when she entered the galley a while ago. But now, it’s hard to miss the warm, spiced scent of curry when it’s sitting right under your nose.

You’d been avoiding taking meals in general; you’ve had no appetite with the pit of worry occupying your gut. But this scent is almost enticing enough to make you forget about that for a few minutes…

You know better than to waste food she’s served you, so you do start to dig in. While you start pretty unenthusiastically, her cooking is too good to not end up eating voraciously before you know it.

“You can’t hide in your cabin forever.” The kobold woman scolds you unabashedly as she takes her own meal. She sighs. “Moping over a boy.”

Despite the chiding from someone less than half your size, having the company feels good after sequestering yourself lately.

“I don’t plan on it.” You say, rubbing the back of your neck with your free hand. “After we drop these tourists off at the island, I’m going to make a small detour on the way back, but it might delay our arrival at port for a bit."

"Because of his issue?"

You did tell Rosing a good bit about what happened - she's just too good at extracting information from you, basically being your family at this point. You just tried to stay mindful of which specific details you shared, for Noa's sake.

"Yeah. It'll probably only take half a day. But I know you like to take your leave in port, so I wanted to make sure that was okay with you before committing to this plan.”

“Doesn’t bother me, if it’s what you need to do. Dancehall will still be there.”

That’s a pretty glowing endorsement from her, so you’re pleased to have the support.

The day after next, you've arrived at your destination and anchored your boat. Unsurprisingly, it’s begun to languidly drizzle while you’ve made your preparations.

You pull on your raincoat and say your goodbye to Rosing. Then, you board your captain's gig and lower yourself into the water with the winch.

It's difficult to not second guess yourself, when it's just you and the sound of the outboard motor and the raindrops smattering loudly against the rubber hood covering your head.

You are technically going against his wishes by getting involved, but… You know you can help him. You have the ability to easily solve his problem- how could you claim to love someone and sit idly by while they suffer? You certainly can't.

The rain is persistent the entirety of the short trip towards the other, looming ship, to the point of you wondering if the small dinghy will completely sink while you're gone as you secure it. …A risk you're willing to take, you decide as you climb out of it.

It’s been a long time since you’ve been on a working ship; a vessel that isn’t completely spotless as to not offend tourist sensibility, but one that exists in a constant state of semi-grime. Still, it’s far less disgusting than the deep permeating filth of a fishing boat - at least the rain is giving it a good wash.

It doesn’t take much time between someone spotting you as out of place, and you being escorted to the captain’s cabin. The cabin itself is pretty cluttered and dingy, but it isn’t its state of cleanliness that puts you at unease, so much as the poor lighting exacerbated by the weather. Every corner is coated in thick shadow, like a spectral hand could reach out and grab you if you get too close. You take off your raincoat and hang it on a nearby coat rack.

“Well, fancy seeing you here.” Uttar actually has a flash of surprise visible on his face before it swiftly vanishes underneath his hardened features. He motions to the ratty velvet padded chair across from him. “Folks tend to get lost.”

"Hello, nice ship you have here.” You take a seat and say, meaning it for the most part- you've been on much, much worse, after all. As far as fishing boats and pirate ships go, there isn't that much difference besides decor.

"My line a’work has it's perks. Better than breaking my back haulin' fish all day. But I’m sure you know all about that, yerself.” Uttar grins as he pulls a cigar box from his desk drawer.

“True.” You have to question just how similar your work is now, but you can at least agree on that point…

"Now, what brings ya to my neck of the seas?" He slowly selects a cigar, and motions to offer you one. You decline with a subtle hand movement, so he puts the box away and proceeds to light his own. “Can’t imagine a little social call in this sort a’downpour.”

“No, this is more of a business matter, I suppose.” You chuckle, trying to break up the undercurrent of slowly building tension in the conversation. "It's regarding… a mutual friend."

"Well now, that does sound interestin'. I was under the impression that we didn't have many a’those left these days."

“Oh, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. You seemed to enjoy yourself the other day, at least?”

“Didn’t say I didn’t, but I haven’t seen head or tail of you in near’a decade and then I see ya twice in a fortnight? Things don’t just go’n spring up like that without reason, as it were.”

He’s not asking the question directly, but it’s there all the same.

"The reason is Noa." You say, cutting through the niceties to the heart of the issue.

You dig a hand into the breast pocket of your kurta and set a neatly packed case of thin, flat traveler's gold bars on the desk.

Uttar takes a long drag from his cigar and rubs his wiry beard in thought, probably to avoid looking like a salivating hound upon seeing that much gold presented to him.

“Didn’t think ya the type of man that needed to buy himself whores.” Uttar sneers in a teasing, infuriatingly chummy tone. “Old charm not what it use’ta be?”

“Oh no, I do fine for myself in that area.” You keep your tone even and a smile on your face, even if the language choices he’s making really make you want to reach across the desk and throttle him yourself. “And to be as clear as possible, this isn’t for any service of his. It’d be to pay off his debt in full.”

“Surely ye understand why lettin’ ya just waltz in here and purchase one o’ me gold makin’ assets out from under me is a bad business decision.” He draws a long inhale of smoke, and lets it filter out through his nostrils, dubious. “Interest is the whole point of lendin’.”

“I thought you might say that… If it’s not enough, I can make up the remainder."

"A whole lot to spend on a ship with a broken mast, that." He mutters derisively. “Yer outta yer mind.”

“I feel quite sound of mind, actually.” You chuckle politely and unclench your jaw. You’re not sure exactly what he’s getting at, but the implication that Noa is broken angers you, regardless. “But thanks for your concern.”

Calm. Deep breath. You just have to get through this without trying to kill him, and it’s almost over.

"Oi… Fine. It's a deal." Uttar extends his free hand over the table for you to shake after a few more moments of deliberation. "But only because we got history, aye?"

"I appreciate it." You shake his extended hand.

The cabin settles into a somewhat tense, but not unwelcome silence while Uttar double-counts the gold tablets and scribbles some notes down in his own records as he goes.

But something that's been on your mind for a while just won't vacate the space. You know it'd be better to ask Noa directly, but you haven't exactly had the opportunity…

"I do have a question, if you don't mind me asking."

"Aye?"

"Do you know what his debt was for?"

"Dunno. Investigatin' sordid history ain't in my job description." Uttar shakes his head, knocking some ash into the overfilled tray. "These contracts don't track that sorta detail, anyhow. I can tell ya I bought his debt off a pleasure boat eastern like. So that leaves ya with what? Drinkin' or druggin', or gamblin', or fuckin' to excess - then tryin’a stiff the tab."

"That doesn't really sound like him..."

"Oi? Didn't realize yer boy toy would come with some pricy habit or another?" Uttar laughs, making a show of pressing the stamp into the vermilion ink and then onto the paper. When he lifts the stamp, a bright red rectangle containing the Orcish characters for 'paid' remains, emblazoned across the section containing his information. "They always do. But we already shook on it all proper-like already, so no refunds!"

He slides the paper across to you.

You take the parchment. It feels strangely light, for how much weight it's been causing Noa to carry for who knows how long.

While scanning the information to make sure it's correct, you notice you overpaid by a considerable amount. But that's fine - You can always refill your savings. What's important is the relief you're feeling on Noa's behalf. And honestly, you expected to be stiffed when you came here, so you're not exactly surprised.

"Her Ladyship pick up her special cargo yet? …" Uttar speaks into the receiver he’s picked up from his desk. "Good. Bring 'im here."

It doesn't take long for the cabin door to be thrown open and Noa to be thrust through it.

"Ugh, you don't have to be so rough, asshole! I know where-"

Then he sees you, and freezes in his tracks. He stands motionless as the cabin door closes behind him.

"There he is!" Uttar coos facetiously and curls a thick finger at him. "C'mere."

"...Why?" Noa sneers in suspicion at Uttar, but is looking directly at you when he says it- as if he's questioning you as well, for entirely different reasons.

"Just c'mere, you obstinate shit! Spirits, I don't know if I'll miss ya or be chuffed to be rid o’ya!"

"Rid of me?" Noa says incredulously, eyes still locked on you, before they settle on the paperwork and gold still strewn on the table. A panicked look crashes over his features as he puts the visual clues together.

But Noa still complies, moving to stand next to Uttar and spinning around when he motions to.

Uttar produces a short, wooden wand from the pen cup on his desk; one carved with uniform runes, typical of the preloaded varieties you can buy in most magic shops, that are easily usable by non-magi. He presses it to the top of Noa’s back, right between the shoulder blades.

There is a small fizzle of magic at work, followed by a shimmering, nearly imperceptible shattering of something unseen. Noa raises his hand over his shoulder to rub the affected area, and when his hand moves, the small marking on his skin is gone too.

"There ya go," Uttar says with an almost bored air of finality as he waves his hand. "We’re all square. Trackin’ rune's gone. He's your problem now."

Even though he’s visibly mad at you and you definitely have more pressing matters that require attention, you can’t help but be struck with just how gorgeous you think he is. And you’re simply so pleased to see him again after how things were left, it’s hard to think straight with your heart hammering in your chest.

But to his credit, you’d be mad if you were left in the dark like this, too. You just have to get somewhere you can have a calm, rational conversation, and you’re sure that he’ll understand why you chose to do this.

You rise from the chair, rolling up the contract.

“You heard him.” Noa shakes his head in disapproval and shrugs his shoulders, voice dripping with simmering resentment. “I’m your problem now.”

“I know this looks bad-” You begin to at least start some verbal damage control on the way out.

“It doesn’t matter how it looks. I don’t get a say in it, right?”

“That’s not the case at all-”

"This is all real sweet love reunion ‘n all. Real cute. But I’ve got things to do.” Uttar interrupts, kicking back in his chair and puffing his cigar with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, reminding you that you are indeed having this quarrel with an audience. “So unless one of ya is gonna suck my cock, get off'a my fuckin' ship."

Noa doesn’t need to be told twice, or even very long to process the words - instead jumping at the offer to no longer be present. He storms out of the cabin, leaving you to hastily pull your raincoat back on and chase after him.

“Noa, wait-” You try to call after him to get him to slow his pace so you can speak, but he’s already out of earshot.

By time you get yourself together and get outside, you hear a tellingly large splash down below. You get back to the gig as fast as you can without risking your boots slipping on the wet surface of the deck, and get yourself into it. Luckily, it’s still floating, and you don’t need to spend any time bailing it out.

“Noa! Noa-” You shout at the water’s surface fruitlessly, knowing your voice won’t carry far underwater or through this wall of rain- let alone both. “Will you just give me a chance to explain?”

“Explain what?” Noa snaps in rage after his head crests the water near the side of the dinghy, water flinging off of his braids in a fine spray as he whips around to face you. "Was this the plan the whole time? You just wanted to buy me too?"

“I wasn’t buying you! I wouldn’t want that-”

“Oh yeah? Because that’s sure what it looked like!” Noa grips the side of the boat as he shouts, slightly rocking it to one side, his dark blue fin spines flaring straight out in anger. “I should’ve known when that sleazy bastard was cozying up on your ship that you were just as bad!”

Admittedly, that stings quite a bit.

“I’m not- you know that’s not true. I wanted to help you!”

“What do you not get?! I don’t want to owe you like that!”

“But you don’t owe me anything!”

“You say that now! But there’s always the expectation attached! It always comes back up! You think I want to try to go on with that always hanging over… whatever this is?! It will absolutely ruin it-”

“Noa, It was your gold!”

“...What?”

“It was your gold. You paid for it.”

“You’re lying- That doesn’t make any sense!”

“I’ve always hated taking gold from you for your room, ever since we became friendly. And especially when we got involved.” You struggle to explain, your voice starting to grow hoarse from straining to be audible over the heavy rain. “I meant it when I said it was on the house. But you were so stubborn about paying anyway…”

It’s a strange sight to see. Noa is dumbstruck, completely silent and nearly motionless in the water, despite the fact you know his tail must still be working to keep him afloat under the surface. Rivers of rainwater run down the slopes of his face and body, which he seems to be completely unaffected by, aside from the hazy nictitating membrane that slides horizontally across his eyes every now and then.

“...I had already set it aside. I wasn’t sure what to do with it. I have a big enough margin even without that room, and the ship didn’t need any pressing maintenance. I thought I’d just end up giving it back to you sooner or later anyway…” You continue, slightly unnerved by the sudden silence and the intense, unrelenting stare. “Then when I found out how badly you actually needed it- it seemed like the best use for it there could be.”

The longer you try to explain yourself, the more you begin to doubt your decision - but when you think about what the alternative would’ve been, you just can’t bring yourself to regret it. Even if Noa never forgives you for your overstep, at least he’s free now.

“And you just… made all of these decisions on my behalf. Without even consulting me.” Noa cuts in, sounding more distraught than angry at this point. That’s still some small progress, you think?

“Noa… We both know you would’ve refused to let me help."

Another pause. In this case though, it’s because you know that he can’t argue with you on that point. He would’ve never accepted the gold. He’s just too proud; too convinced that he can handle anything by himself.

“Stupid.” He says bitterly, so quiet now that you can barely make it out over the noise. “I didn’t ask for this. So why?”

Honestly, you can’t really argue with him that you haven’t been stupid; at least not about the way you’ve done things, if not the reason behind it. Sitting here in this dinghy that’s threatening to sink with the cacophony of rain pelting down on your head is making you rethink every single decision you’ve made along the way.

You should’ve just said something earlier - been clearer, or more direct in getting your feelings across.

No time like the present to change that, you decide, Orcish cultural taboo be damned.

“I love you,” You pull the now slightly soggy roll of parchment out of your pocket and hold it out towards him. “And I want you to be able to choose me, if that’s what you want.”

>> ✨ MASTERLIST >> ☕ KO-FI

#exophilia #monster lover #monster romance #mlm #monster x reader #merman x reader #monster x monster #male monster #male reader #orc reader #merfolk #gay exophilia #mlm exophilia #oc: varuj #oc: noa #series: no vacancy #nine of words

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ioannemos · 10 months

Text

a blouse

These important stories, we rehearse them for years in our head but never tell. These stories are ghosts, bringing people back from the dead. Just for a moment. For a visit. Every story is a ghost. Chuck Palahniuk

day four: miss missing you / grief

rating: g

words: 900

───────────────────────────

“I’m back,” Lucy sings out, kicking the door shut behind her. She expects Lockwood to appear to take the groceries and is mildly put out when he doesn’t. After a moment George emerges from the kitchen in full apron and gloves and her heart sinks. “Oh no. What happened? I was only gone an hour.”

“Mrs. Bishop came by with the survey,” George says gloomily.

Lucy blinks. “And?”

“And I don’t know!” George follows her into the kitchen. “Lockwood’s voice got all… brittle, though I don’t think she noticed. They talked about nothing, he thanked her, she left, and he just stood there staring at the closed door, totally silent.”

Lucy pauses in putting away the groceries. “What did the survey say?”

“Nothing they hadn’t told us. He left the survey on the side table and went upstairs.” George sheds the washing-up gloves to put away the spices she picked up for him. “I haven’t heard a sound since.”

Lucy bites her lip. “Well, maybe he’ll come down for dinner.”

Lockwood doesn’t appear all evening. George makes dinner and then starts cleaning the library when Lucy insists on doing the dishes. She turns on the radio to drown out the silence with limited success.

Once the dishes are done she puts the kettle on and steps out to stare up the stairs again. She goes to stand in the library doorway. “This isn’t… normal, is it?”

George pushes his glasses back up his nose with a forearm. “No, not really.”

“Should we check on him?” George’s eyes widen. “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it,” Lucy says with exasperation.

“Not really, no.”

“What, not even when he’s in there not making a sound, not eating?” George’s lips thin and he shrugs. “Boys,” Lucy mutters, shaking her head. In the kitchen, the kettle whistles. “Well, I’m making tea and I’m going to check on him. You’re welcome to join me,” she says as a parting shot, certain that he won’t.

While the tea brews she toasts bread and pulls one of the cutlets back out of the fridge. George comes in while she’s spreading mayonnaise on the toast. “Suppose he doesn’t want us to come in,” he says. She turns to him in surprise. “Suppose he wants to be left alone,” he adds, a bit pointedly.

“Then he’s welcome to tell us so,” she says, raising her chin. “I forgot the lettuce; hand me a leaf?”

She adds six biscuits along with the mugs and the impromptu sandwich and carries the tray up, George trailing behind her. When she nods for him to knock, he gives her another wide-eyed look and takes the tray instead. She rolls her eyes hard and reaches out to knock. Just before her knuckles make contact, she hesitates. George snorts softly. “Not so easy, is it?” he asks.

“Shut up,” she retorts, and clears her throat. “Lockwood?” No response. Having come this far, Lucy feels the only thing sillier would be to give up now, so instead of knocking she turns the doorknob.

It turns easily and she steps inside before she can second-guess her actions any more. It’s completely dark, which startles her. Every other time she’s had a glance inside, either the curtains were open, a light was on, or sometimes both. “Lockwood?” she says again, anxiously. She’s not sure what she’s afraid of, but… She feels for a lightswitch near the door and flips it on.

Lockwood is laying perpendicular on his bed with his legs off the side, fully clothed and on top of the covers, holding something made of silvery-purple fabric. His face scrunches up and one arm rises to cover his eyes. “Wha…?” he begins, and then yawns.

“Erm,” Lucy says. “You… disappeared.”

“Hmm?” Lockwood sits up by degrees, rubbing his eyes. The fabric slips out off his lap and he lunges for it, crashing to his knees next to the bed and clutching it protectively to his chest. He sits on the edge of the bed, pulls the fabric up to cover his nose and inhales, eyes closed.

None of them move for several seconds. She takes a deep breath and soldiers on. “You ought to eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” he mumbles into the fabric. It’s shimmery like silk and perhaps the size of a shirt.

“Even so.”

He lowers the fabric back onto his lap and feels it between his fingers. “It doesn’t smell like anything,” he says, almost matter-of-fact. “I don’t think it ever did.”

Lucy can’t think of anything to say to that, so she takes the tray back from George. “George made cutlets for dinner and all I did was put it between some toast, so really you ought to thank him.”

Lockwood still hasn’t looked up from the fabric. “Mum wore the same perfume,” he says. His voice isn’t matter-of-fact, she realizes, it’s detached in the same way as when someone’s been terribly hurt and they don’t feel it yet.

“Oh,” George says, voice dropping.

“I’d forgotten,” Lockwood says, sounding even more distant. He smooths the fabric across his knee.

Lucy’s resolve crumbles. “Do you… I could leave the tray?”

Lockwood looks up, his eyes dull, and there’s an awful moment of silence before he says, “Please stay.”

Lucy doesn’t wait; she climbs onto the far side of the bed and sets down the tray. “George, don’t get crumbs on the bed.”

───────────────────────────

@lco-angst-week

this one. this was a genuinely rough one, bc as soon as i saw grief and thought of lockwood i knew where this was going, like seeing a car crash coming

(in case it wasn't clear, mrs. bishop wore the same perfume as his mother and it bowled lockwood over. i've spent so long picking at this one that i'm not sure it's coherent anymore but i'm also forbidding myself to keep picking at it)

in my case it was a sweater, not a blouse, and i sat on my bed just holding it for a long, long time. i don't even know what emotions i was feeling. they were big, and they were tangled, so i just held her sweater to my chest and let them wash over me for a while. it didn't smell like anything, either. i do have a bottle of her perfume, tho, and i get a glimpse of her dressing up for a party every time i smell it

also i hate the title of this one but writing it wore me out so stupid title or no up it goes ¯\_(┬◡┬)_/¯

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natasha-in-space · 1 year

Text

A Playful Afternoon

Vanderwood/gn!reader;

Your daily life with Vanderwood is one filled with domestic bliss and warm comfort for you both to enjoy. But, that doesn't mean your partner can't spice things up every once in a while, right? And all it takes is just one teasing comment on your part.

"The hell's all that?"

You didn't even need to raise your eyes at Vanderwood's face to confirm the annoyance that could be felt clear as day the moment they first opened their mouth to speak. Though, not like you could physically do that, even if you wanted to. Not with your arms full of trinkets, boxes and bags of various size. Frankly, it took all of your concentration just to keep them from tumbling down all over the floor! Regardless, you kept on smiling as you gave him your answer, awkwardly swaying in one place in order to keep your small mountain of presents safe and sound. "They're gifts!"

"I swear, if it was your birthday today and you didn't tell me for whatever reason, you're not getting any of my promised bibimbap tonight."

You burst out laughing at such an adorable remark as you finally managed to free yourself from the weight of your souvenirs by carefully placing them on the couch beside your grouchy partner. Sparing a quick glance at their sulky pout was all that was needed to confirm your initial suspicion. He was upset. And maybe... even a little bit jealous? Regardless, you shook your head at their first assumption, eager to rid them of any unnecessary worries. You were not someone who tended to mess with them like that. "Haha, no, don't worry. I wouldn't do that to you! I guess since it's my first proper party after the whole chaos with the bomb and all that, the RFA decided to spoil me. If I knew that was going to happen, I would have brought you with me! I mean, do you have any idea how hard it was to bring all of this here without breaking anything or falling flat on my face in the process?"

"You should have just texted me then, you dummy." Vanderwood grumbled under his nose, his rough voice softening to an almost shy tone as he lowered himself next to your side and placed a quick welcoming kiss to your forehead. You hummed in appreciation, leaning into this quiet gesture of affection, a warm smile creeping onto your lips as soon as you breathed in their cozy scent so close to you.

You missed them.

"I know you don't like big and loud events like that." You replied, picking up one specific tray of intricate chocolates that Zen has given to you and bringing one of the sweets up to his lips with a lighthearted giggle. They stared at it, their dark brown eyes widening in surprise ever so slightly, before their shoulders slowly relaxed and they took the chocolate from your fingers, a light blush quickly covering their cheeks as they moved away. You didn't tease them for their reactions, even if you wanted to. After all, you knew how much it meant for Vanderwood to show so much of his hidden vulnerability to someone. And, he was still learning. Living a free life is a process that the former agent was only starting to get used to, and you were patient with him. "Besides, if it was my birthday, I'd rather spend it with you and only you. Frankly, I don't even need any gifts. Maybe only your cooking. So, you got nothing to worry about. But... it's cute that you're thinking of me in this way."

Much to your surprise, this time it was them who took the initiative, reaching down into a pile of presents and picking up a certain plush that has clearly gotten their attention. To be fair, you didn't even have to guess twice to know, who it was from. Judging by their raised brow, they were not that impressed with this choice of gift giving.

"A Longcat plush, really? I guess I should be grateful that kid did not give you a fire breathing robot or something just to spite me. I sure hope he didn't give you this in front of that handsome actor of yours, though. That would be quite a sight to behold."

"Thankfully not." You snickered, stroking the soft fur of the plush. Saeyoung sure was excited to give you this first hand. That redheaded boy loved cats to bits and pieces, so it's only fair for him to share this love with his loved ones. Or, well... More like you were one of a few people who were willing enough to humor his extended babbles about cats and all that was great about them. Could this be considered a gift of his friendship, then? "But I wouldn't put it past him. He also thanked me for being by your side. Said he's glad you found someone who made you less grumpy and uptight!"

"I am not uptight."

"Sure you're not." You merely smirked, watching him puff out his cheeks in defiance. A part of you wanted to poke him and watch him try and find believable excuses that would defend his case against you. "You're just... old fashioned!"

"That is not better!" Vanderwood huffed, now crossing both of their arms across their chest and glaring daggers at you, like an irritated cat who's tail just been pulled. You could see now why Saeyoung had such a knack for poking fun at his supervisor.

"What? I like old fashioned!"

He merely narrowed his eyes at you, clearly not pleased with your answer.

"Are you calling me an old man or something?"

"Pfft- Where did that even come from!?" Laughter bubbled up deep within your chest, getting harder and harder for you to hold it back. Much to your partner's displeasure, you were finding this predicament much too amusing. Though, before you could slip away and return to your relaxed gift unpacking, you found a pair of big hands placing themselves onto your shoulders, keeping you seated neatly on your place.

Eager to see what's going to come next, you only watched silently, as they slowly leaned forward, their forehead almost touching yours. A few strands of their soft hair tickled playfully at the skin of your warm cheeks, as if they were testing your endurance for this next challenge that was soon to come. Vanderwood's voice came out husky and intense, making a shiver ran down your spine, as you stared deep within their dark eyes. "So. First you come back from your fun party with hands full of presents, and now you're making fun of me? Say, what am I supposed to think here?"

You gulped, your teasing grin slowly turning into one of embarrassment and nervousness. It's not like he was seriously angry with you. You could see that. This was a different kind of questioning, one that was making you read between the lines and create a whole plethora of fun scenarios in your own head.

Vanderwood wasn't a jealous man. Insecure at times, maybe, but they respected your privacy and encouraged you forming meaningful connections with other people. No, this wasn't a matter of petty jealousy. This was a challenge, a game.

One you were willing to play all night, if you had to.

"Hm... I don't know. Maybe I want you to make a guess, Vandy?" You muttered in response, tilting your head just enough for you to flutter your lashes at them in such a way that would definitely make their heart flutter. If you were going to play the game with them, you wanted to play to win.

Oh, how you loved seeing this fiery side of him every once in a while. Vanderwood wasn't a jealous man, but he was a passionate one, even if nobody else saw this side of him. No, it's not like they did not see it... Vanderwood simply didn't allow them to see it. Except for you, that is.

And that's a dangerous thought to ponder over.

"Well, I'm sorry to say this, but you're too late for that, Y/N." Their low whisper was all the warning you were given, before their lips clashed into yours in a heated kiss that you were much too eager to return, despite your initial surprise at such a bold move coming from them.

You gasped into the kiss, feeling his hands slowly moving down your back and tracing the soft skin of your stomach in small circles under your shirt. Not quite rushing things, but still bold enough for you to stumble in a flustered reaction that would make them chuckle against your lips. You had no idea where this was going yet, but you did want to get closer to them, be it for the sake of this little game you were playing or your genuine desire to share such closeness with the person you love. Maybe the combination of both. Regardless, you showed no signs of discomfort, only placing one of your hands on Vanderwood's cheek to keep them close.

And, once you did pull away, you both were left a panting and blushing mess, your game of wit long forgotten. Not like you expected either one of you to keep up the facade for long in the first place. Heart hammering wildly against your ribcage, you finally found the right words to respond.

"So, uh- Can we kiss again, or..."

-Or so you thought.

"Straight to the point, huh?" They teased you, their thumb caressing your cheek. Granted, if it weren't for their touch, you'd probably burry your burning face into the nearest pillow from embarrassment. Why were you so damn awkward!? "Will you call me old fashioned again?"

Jeez, was this really bothering them that much? You knew they were peculiar in their preferences at times, but why the sensitivity around being called old fashioned? At least then you weren't the only awkward nerd in this room.

"I mean, if you wear a tuxedo then- Ah!"

Before you could even finish your sentence, you were lifted off the floor and draped over Vanderwood's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You couldn't even react much, except for your surprised yelp as you clutched onto their shirt with a death grip.

"Alright, that's it. Your gifts are going to have to wait, I think I have a very annoying and stubborn package to unpack." He stated matter-of-factly, easily striding off with you dangling off his shoulder as your shocked squealing soon turned into high-pitched giggling, with his own breathy laughter joining in a mere moment after.

#mystic messenger #mysmes #mysme #mm #vanderwood #mm vanderwood #mystic messenger vanderwood #vanderwood mystic messenger #vanderwood x reader #getting back into writing!#writing for vandy is especially fun since there's so much freedom for creativity here

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slasherbish · 1 year

Text

Quiet Nights Part 8 (Michael Myers x reader)

The sound of your phone woke you up. Groaning at the noise you picked it up and looked to see what was so important as to wake you up. You shot up as you reread the text. Hey (Y/n) I’ll be moving out. I found a place closer to home that is also cheaper.

“Fuck” you muttered. This made the killer sitting near you look in your direction. He tilted his masked face as if to ask what was wrong. “My roommate just backed out of our agreement so now I have to pay for the fucking apartment all by myself.” You answered him, annoyance lacing every word. He only returned a pat on the back. He had never had to deal with rent since he had been committed since he was a little boy.

The rent wasn’t going to be too difficult since you made enough to cover it but that left you short on grocery money. Sighing, you flop back down onto the blanket you had previously been sleeping on. “Spice of life I guess” Your voice muttered. For the next few minutes you lay there contemplating what to do next. A small squeak broke the silence, you look over to see a sewer rat scrambling by on the pipe above you. The tiny creature had also captured Michaels attention as well.

“Don’t eat it” You told your friend thinking back to when he had eaten a rat due to you not bringing food. The large man rolled his eyes beneath his mask. Another thought crossed your mind. “Shit I won’t be able to come by as often since I'll have to pick up more shifts at work.” You said. Why did my roommate have to move out, you thought. Michael didn’t know what to do, he hadn’t dealt with this and wasn’t exactly the comforting type. So the killer decided to grab a blanket and put it over you. In return (y/n) looked up at him with a questioning gaze. You had already pieced together that this was his way of comforting people. “I’m fine, I'm just frustrated. I’ll miss seeing you every day.” You tried to reassure him but deep down you were upset and wanted to cry. The thought of more work hours and less michael time was depressing and upsetting.

For a while now Michael had become your closest friend and someone to lean on when you had bad days. Michael had started to consider you as a friend as well and he didn’t like the thought of seeing you less either. He thought of perhaps stalking you so that when you were working long hours he could still see you. The pain and urge to kill died down whenever he was around you, it would change from a fierce roaring fire to a dull ember. He thought that maybe without you he could start to kill again. A thought of you being disappointed in him for being reckless crossed his mind and he decided against the killings out of season.

Once again you shot up, but this time you had a bright smile on your face. The sudden emotion change and large smile and staring creeped Michael out a little. “I have a glorious idea. What if you move into the second room” You exclaimed. The killer stared in confusion and surprise.

Tags @vampire-hunter @babygurl97 @adaydreamaway08 @villainfan

#michael myers #michael myers x gn reader #michael myers x you #michael myers x reader #the shape of haddonfield #horror #the shape #halloween #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher x gn reader #slasher #reader #x reader #gn y/n #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #x y/n #x you

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the-littlest-kojin · 1 year

Note

For Shio, Conroy, Brilliant, Ava, Gologa, Statera, Omikhle, Nith, Ban, Gloyn, Odori, Khusel, Alatyr, Blooming, Alha, Cemi'tan, Cholla, R'hia, Sajati, Saldlona, Amis, Lihtbryda, Saltsong, Galdra, Arcas, Amga, Ceru, Taraine, Nehir, Reson, Kin, Orinitt, Surya, Blaidd, Thalassa, Kolokasia, Elucia, and Nahla:

Can you please describe their favorite meal, in character?

This one was a doozy.

Shio: I’d like to be able to say something from one of my travels, but I really can’t. My favourite meal is Gasame Stew, and my family cook it best. Oh - Gasame Stew is when you kill one of those big fiery shelled crabs in the Ruby Sea, and then you throw a bunch of ingredients in its shell, and the leftover heat cooks it.

Conroy:

I’d say that my favourite meal is a rice dish that Corwyn cooks sometimes. I’m… Not sure what goes into it. Fish of some kind, I think. But he’s never let me see the cookbook.

Brilliant:

I’m not sure I have a favourite meal - I love any meal had at home, with people that I love.

Ava:

It’s not much of a “Meal”, but I’m a huge fan of grapes and apples. I’ll happily skip any meal to just to eat a bunch of grapes and an apple or two.

Gologa:

…Ovim, cooked over a campfire. Seared, lightly seasoned.

Statera:

I miss steaks from home. Proper steaks. Cooked well-done, covered in spices, soaked in sauce.

Omikhle:

I like a nice meat pie. Chicken, mushroom, pepper, and gravy, all mixed in a nice thin pastry shell.

Nith:

A nice poultry dish, with some pasta, maybe a cream sauce. Heavy on garlic, some peppers. Served with a nice glass of juice, ideally.

Ban:

I haven’t had it for years, now - but I honestly love salted meats, packed for preservation, best. My shipmates used to mock me that I’d eat the preserved foods even when we had fresh available.

Gloyn:

Oh! I had this thing once, with white chocolate and strawberries - it was really sweet. I loved it!

Odori:

There’s this delightful sour chicken dish I love - but it’s a lot of work to cook it for myself, and I don’t really know many other people who cook it. I should cook it again sometime soon.

Khusel:

M’not really sure what food I’d call my favourite. Did have this nice roll once - think it was young karakul meat.

Alatyr:

As a rule, I love the little speciality meals that small town inns have. They all have their own charm, and I love trying them all out! But if I had to choose a favourite, there’s one place by the sea that does great chopped and fried popotoes, served with some poultry - it’s a delight.

Blooming Arrowroot:

I… I guess I eat the same meal every week - it’s just some cuts of beef and some popotoes, though. I don’t really have enough experience with other foods to know if it’s a favourite or not.

Alha: Back home in Meracydia, m’ mates and I would cook up a nice camp bread. Was really nice - kinda miss it. Camp bread, some wild herbs. Good stuff.

Cemi'tan:

I always love eating a nice thick juicy steak - rare and with garlic-mint sauce. Best found at the Quicksand! Momodi does a nice cookup.

Cholla:

The more important part of any meal is the drink - and I like the cheapest, nastiest rotgut you can imagine. With that, a nice hard heel of bread, the kind of shite you can bludgeon a blighter to death with, and some watery stew.

R'hia:

Ain’t no meal more satisfying than one of my catches, butchered up and seared nicely on a grill! Nothin’ like it, and knowing all the work - mine and others’ - that went into it makes it taste all the better!

Sajati:

Curry from Mehryde's! Nothing beats it. None of the mild slop, either - I like the real murderous stuff.

Saldlona:

There’s these thinly sliced cuts of meat I like buying - I think the merchant calls them “minute steak”. They’re really quick to cook, and they go great with some popotoes.

Amis: -Amis stares silently at the asker in disbelief for thirty seconds before closing her door in their face-

Lihtbryda:

I remember, one year - there was a party at Costa del Sol for midsummer, and they served these lovely little flavoured ice sculptures. I can’t remember what they were called, but I had four and I’ve missed them ever since.

(Saltsong and Galdra are both omitted for not needing to eat)

Acras:

My favourite meal would have to be lovely little morsels in pretty clothes who squirm so nicely for me.

Amga:

-A shushing finger is raised as the asker is offered a rabbit, skewered on a stick and roasted over a fire-

Ceru:

I… I used to like…

…To like…

…I don’t remember. The Word won’t let me.

Taraine:

I’ve always enjoyed a nice onion soup - with lots of mutton added, cooked as rare as possible. Heavy on the salt, too.

Nehir:

Buckler Stew, cooked over a campfire, ideally eaten in Gyr Abania as the sun sets. “Savage food”, as I’ve often heard it called.

Reson:

…Boiled rabbit. Some root vegetables.

Kin:

I’m rather a fan of a particular type of udon! Made with tofu pockets of rice and sweeteners, it tastes really delightful - I highly advise it.

Orinitt:

Personally, I’m a fan of kebabs - ideally with a nice strong ale. Good spicy sauce.

Surya:

Honey-glazed ham, served over a bed of mashed popotoes, of course! Spiced wine, warmed to a nice temperature, as the drink.

Blaidd:

Given the choice, I prefer to eat deer - bloody and wriggling, still struggling and kicking its legs, still warm from the chase.

Thalassa:

Hm. I’d have to say sausage, with a sauce made from apple and onion. It’s quite nice, and really simple to cook.

Kolokasia:

Personally, I like sticking to a strictly vegetarian diet - tofus and beans and vegetables and suchlike. As such, my favourite meals are mostly salads and similar.

Nahla:

Favourite? Prob’ly harutsuge, nicely fried up. Rarity, though. Not many places still sell harutsuge.

Elucia: Why, mortals like you, of course, dear asker~

#ffxiv

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darkspine10 · 6 months

Text

GF Fanfic - Past Made Present

Dipper and Mabel Vs. The Past (20,707 words) by darkspine10

Chapters: 4/9

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Rating: Teen and Up

“So, just to make sure I didn’t miss anything,” Zera said. “The twins’ parents? Their names are-”

“Marc and Mary?” Pacifica said, lifting her coffee cup to her lips. “Yep.”

“No way.”

“Well, Marcus and Marianne if you want to get technical.”

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

Pacifica spluttered out her drink, trying to hold back the laughter. She put a palm over her chest. “Dead serious, honest.”

Zera wrinkled her nose. “And they gave their kids the names Mabel and Mason? Seriously?”

“Is it any wonder my husband goes by Dipper? Then again my family are hardly paragons when it comes to alliteration either. Thank the stars that Wendy breaks the trend.”

“Hear hear,” Zera said, raising her cup in mock toast. In her highchair, Wendy giggled and slammed her sippy cup on the table repeatedly.

After parting ways with the others, Zera and Pacifica had wandered down through the suburbs to the shopping district on Piedmont Avenue - which Zera was confused to discover was actually outside of Piedmont’s borders in the wider city of Oakland. Along with Wendy they’d found a small coffee shop. The square tables covered with wide umbrellas that shielded the afternoon sunlight gave them an ample view of the drying asphalt.

A thin layer of sweat had already built up on Zera’s skin. “It’s crazy how warm it is after this morning. I might need to take a dip in the bay to rehydrate.”

“You just wait for a real California summer, sister. Remember, I lived with the twins for a while, I know how bad the heat can get.” Pacifica delighted in squinting and blurring her vision. Before her eyes Zera morphed from her human disguise to her true self. Pacifica was amused by the incongruity of a blue fish alien sitting casually next to all the oblivious patrons of the coffee shop “You’re partly amphibious, yeah?”

Zera nodded. “At least this drink will keep me from drying out completely.”

She took a sip but Pacifica audibly scoffed. “How are you this basic? I thought, given all the globetrotting Mabel gets up to and the spacehopping you do, that you’d have a more varied palette. I was expecting you to like some weird mixture of grass smoothie with specially blended icing, or a rare middle-eastern tea. Something a tad exotic. But no: Pumpkin spice. Sometimes I forget you’re an actual alien.”

“Oh yeah, Miss High and Mighty, what’s your drink then?”

“It’s some kind of festive macchiato blend. I don’t know.” Pacifica scrunched up her nose. “Anyway, it’s beside the point. It’s an excuse to get a break from all of my husband’s tedious hand-wringings. Plus I thought it was high time the two of us had a proper conversation.”

“Really? That’s a new one,” Zera said, sitting back in her chair. She sipped her coveted latte for a moment, slightly frowning. “I always got the impression that you and Dipper didn’t like me very much.”

Pacifica raised a single eyebrow, as if challenging the statement. “Oh? What gave you that idea?”

“Well, the first time we met, when I tried to, you know: scam the three of you. Mabel was smitten and all, but you two - man, you sussed me out right away. After that… I guess I felt like you treated me as some hanger-on with May.”

Pacifica flashed a reassuring grin. “Eh, that stuff’s all water under the bridge. Uh, not that I meant to make a pun on the fact you’re aquatic.” Zera reacted with her lip set in a line. “I’ve said it before, we’re sister-in-laws now,” Pacifica said in an attempt to mollify the alien. “That means we’re family, no matter how strangely we all came together. Mabel may have unique tastes, but she chose right with you.”

“Thanks,” Zera murmured. “That makes me feel a bit less like an outsider.”

“Trust me, you’ll settle in fast. Wait until Marc reads his Christmas cracker jokes over dinner. We’ll all be in the same boat, cringing.”

“Except May. She loves cheesy jokes.”

“Ha, fair point.” Pacifica blew on her drink and took a sip, careful not to get foam all over her mouth. She idly stirred the liquid. “You know, I had coffee like this once with Wendy - Corduroy I mean - back before our portal quest. After motherhood that feels like a very long time ago.”

“You named your daughter after someone you only had coffee with once?” Zera asked, almost impressed.

“It was complicated, and mostly Mason’s idea. She did save my life, but tried to kill us several times, and saved the entire multiverse with her sacrifice. I dunno, there are complex feelings. Lately I’ve been taking to calling her Leah; that’s her middle name.” Pacifica tickled her daughter’s face. “You’re gonna like high class things when you’re older, aren’t you Leah? Aren’t you? You won’t have basic tastes.”

“Ha ha,” Zera deadpanned. “That’s a nice name for her though, Leah Pines.”

Pacifica frowned. “Although it is another in-joke technically. Mason wanted a subtle reference to his Great Uncle Stan.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Stanley. Leah. See? It’s kinda silly but Mason was keen and I didn’t feel like objecting. Kind of regret that now. He was naming her like it was the epilogue of Harry Potter, talk about tacky.”

“I’ll have to remind myself to ask Mabel what that means, since I’ve never heard of it.”

“She’ll probably say you’re better off not knowing. Like this whole debacle with their parents. Let them figure it all out, I don’t care.”

“You’re not tempted to intervene? Not even a little?” Pacifica gave a tiny shrug. “And here I was told you used to be a gossip magnet.”

“You couldn’t pay me to wade into this debate.” She slouched back in her chair. “It reminds me too much of my own parents. All that tiptoeing around, keeping part of myself hidden. It was hell. Everything was so much better after I actually got angry with them. The twins will be the same, as soon as they get this off their chest they’ll stop being so useless with worrying about it.”

Zera paused for a moment, then whispered. “So, Marc and Mary? Go on then, tell me the story.”

“There’s not much to tell: That’s the point, they’re average. Mary works as a receptionist in the twins’ old elementary school and Marc is a computer programmer. Has a job in some high-rise over in the financial district, strictly on the low end of the totem pole sadly.”

“There’s gotta be more to it than that though. Come on, you’ve known them for years. Why are they so… unlike the twins?”

Pacifica mulled this over, watching steam float off her drink. “Well, they had kids pretty young, like barely out of their teens. No-one ever plans for twins. Hell, they didn’t even know it ran in the family back then. And once you’re a young couple burdened with an over-imaginative bundle of energy like Mabel and a socially-awkward know-it-all like Mason you’ve got a recipe for chaos. Add in the fact those kids were fiercely protective of each other and it’s no wonder this divide grew to such big proportions.”

“It all sort of… happened by accident then? A mix of personality issues and different paths in life?”

“When you put it like that, pretty much. They did a good job handling the twins though. Raised them right with strong morals, even before their Grunkles got a hold of them. Although I’m not sure morally upstanding is a phrase that could ever describe Stanley Pines.” Zera was processing all this when Pacifica continued. “Look, if you really want a root cause to everything that led the twins apart from their parents then it goes back to my husband. He had an anxious moment all those years ago and has been carrying it around with him ever since. Mason’s had a thing about blindly trusting people ever since he found Journal 3. It might have made sense when he was 13, but now? He’s a husband and a father, with adult responsibilities and a life of his own. But we can’t force him to say anything. He and Mabel have to confront this on their own terms. Talk about a messed up family.”

“Not like you,” Zera said. “You’re completely different of course, with your adopted war orphan, newborn baby, and no steady income. All perfectly stable.”

“Low blow, S’aren, low blow.”

“Careful, better not buy another croissant or you might go bankrupt.” They both laughed. “You think Dipper and Mabel will get through it ok?” Zera asked, serious again. “They were split apart before, right?”

Pacifica chewed her bottom lip. “I think this time they’re united well enough. They certainly aren’t about to fall out like they did in the past. Who knows honestly. Like I said, what happens between them and their parents is their business. We’re here to support the twins and give advice, but I’m not about to get in the firing line once Mason finally opens up about magic and junk.”

“Hmm, I guess they are very close.”

“Take it from one Pines to another, there are only three topics you can bring up that will guarantee the twins will argue non-stop for a few hours: Whether direct action is more effective than protest marches, the pros and cons of nuclear power, and live-action Disney musical remakes.”

“Wait, what’s with the last one?” Zera asked.

“Trust me, don’t ask. I’ve seen the debates. Heated doesn’t begin to describe it. The fiery heart of the sun would be a cool winter’s day in comparison.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Zera stirred her latte. “With all this talk about parents, I was wondering. Have you ever thought about reconnecting with yourparents?” Pacifica choked on her drink for the second time. “Ooh, sore subject.”

“Now who’s joking?” she gasped, reaching for a serviette. “There’s a reason Marc and Mary had to take me in at 17. They’re saints compared to my dear old mom and dad.”

Zera smiled to herself. “Ok, drama queen. Sorry I brought it up.”

Pacifica tapped a finger repetitively on the table, before deciding to answer. “My parents made a lot of mistakes when I was growing up. Trying to introduce them to my family is a hassle I don’t need. I don’t know which of my kids they’d be more offended by, the full-blooded alien or the one with 50% of Mason’s genes.” She ruefully laughed. “Now there’s an irony. I couldn’t get my parents to care even when the supernatural was staring them right in the face. If they couldn’t make a profit off it it might as well not exist. What I wouldn’t have given to have parents like the twins, they’re actually there when they need them. I’m sure you can relate, growing up in space nursery with a million other tadpoles.”

“It was tough, yeah. I suppose it’s a good thing you and Dipper stepped up for Merrise, made sure she has a roof over her head and two people who love her unconditionally.”

“Uh, thanks,” Pacifica said, blushing a little from the praise. She’d always seen it less as something she had a choice in and more a duty. Merrise had shown up in their lives with nowhere else to go and they’d quickly come to adore her. Leaving her behind seemed absurd.

“See, you were right, we can be friends,” Zera teased. “Genuine praise makes both of us feel embarrassed.”

“Cheers to that,” Pacifica said, grinning and glad to have finally made something of a connection with the alien whom Mabel so adored. She was about to take another sip of her macchiato when a faint ripple danced across the surface of the liquid. “Uh oh.”

“What?” Zera asked, none the wiser.

A second, larger ripple shook her drink. “I think we’re about to have some trouble.” The table began to shake, rattling the cups and cutlery. The pine tree shaped pendant Pacifica always wore began to spin and she sighed. “I can’t go one day without them somehow-”

The monster seemed faintly ridiculous, cantering down the high street on narrow legs which supported a bulky upper torso and arms as thick as oak trees. Golden orbs trailed slightly behind, hovering above what passed for the creature’s neck. Pedestrians began running from their tables in panic. The chimaera picked up speed, rocking Pacifica and Zera’s table so hard it nearly toppled over.

A second later a bright pink car sped past the coffee shop, engine revving loudly. Pacifica leapt up from her seat, slung Wendy into a pouch across her chest, and set off after the car, all in one fluid motion. Zera did a double-take, blinking in confusion, before setting down her cup and flailing to her feet. “Wait for me!”

The Mini hurtled along the streets of San Francisco in hot pursuit. Mabel was no stranger to hairpin turns and insane acceleration, but her brother, parents, and niece were being juddered around constantly. She was worried they’d lose the chimaera when they veered near to Lombard Street, but the creature avoided the steep turns. The dense traffic in the city centre forced both the car and its quarry to slow. Self-driving vehicles littered the road at odd angles, having been unable to process the danger in time to swerve out of the way before being knocked aside in the chimaera’s wake.

Honking the horn, Mabel watched the creature weave through the slowly moving cars ahead of them. “Forget the car,” Dipper said, undoing his seatbelt. Merrise and Mabel leapt out of the car, while his parents were still reeling from the chase and struggling to release themselves. “Stop!” Dipper cried at the creature.

He was self-conscious of all the eyes on him. They hadn’t quite reached the most populated part of the city, but there were still countless passers-by along the street staring in disbelief at the Frankenstein’s Monster wildly careening around. Revealing the supernatural to his parents was one thing. Winding up on local news was another. The truth about weirdness wasn’t entirely clandestine - after all he’d encountered many individuals who’d independently stumbled onto cryptids and magic outside of the Falls. But broadcasting it to the world still felt like a transgression.

He had to end this quickly. He began to march determinedly down the street after the slowly trotting monster. Mabel called out to him. “What are you doing Dipper, are you nuts?”

“I have to go talk to that thing!” he said without turning. “It isn’t evil.”

“Uh, did you miss when it rampaged through the world’s greatest monuments!?”

“This thing only coalesced today. It’s probably confused and overwhelmed. If I talk to it I might be able to calm it down.”

Mabel seemed indecisive, but nodded anyway. “Ok bro. If you think you know what you’re doing.”

“I’ll come too”, Merrise said, trying to follow her father. She was still hobbling slightly on her grazed knee.

Mabel held out an arm and nudged her back in. “Nuh uh missy, you’re staying with me where I can keep you safe. Let your dad have a go first.” Merrise pouted and feebly slunk into her seat next to her grandparents. Unlike Merrise, who knew the dangers ahead of them, Mr and Mrs Pines had no such hesitations in going after Dipper. This may be a startlingly unexpected set of circumstances for them but they weren’t about to let their son stroll into the midst of the action without any guarantees of his safety.

“Son!” Mr Pines called. “Don’t stick your neck out for nothing!”

Mabel now had to contend with the unenviable task of keeping her parents back from the danger zone. She held her arms back and had to physically hold them at bay. Her mother stood back and gave her sternest glare. Somehow even Pacifica’s hardest stares paled in comparison to the ‘Mom Glare’. “Mabel Jessica Pines, you get out of my way right this instant.”

“Can’t do that Mom, really sorry.” Mabel grimaced and snuck a look over her shoulder. Dipper was right in front of the beast. “Someday we’ll look back at today and see it as a real turning point.” Neither of her parents were impressed by that.

Squeezing through the stalled traffic, Dipper yelled towards the back of the vast chimaera, which was forcing cars out of the way to get through. The golden stars that sufficed for the creature’s eyes turned to consider him. “Hey, Journal Man… uh, Llama-Tree-Star-Centaur… thing. Ugh, Mabel was always better at coming up with the names.”

The creature regarded him with a look that might almost have been quizzical, before letting out a roar of anger. It wrenched the nearest streetlight out of its foundations and hurled it towards Dipper. He wanted to appear on top of things, both to intimidate and pacify the creature and to make himself seem self-assured for his parents’ sake, but he had to dive out of the way in an undignified manner, tumbling onto the ground and landing hard on his journal.

“Right, that’s it.” He stood back up and dusted the grit off his jacket. He pointed at the scowling chimaera. “You might act tough, but I need answers.” He flipped through Journal 9 and clutched it in his palms. A certain incantation was written on the page he’d selected. Mabel might be the more accomplished spellcaster, but on this occasion he was willing to give it a go. He placed one palm on the open page and shouted at the beast. “Ipso Facto, Lorem Ipsum!”

A hurricane of words spiralled off the page and slammed into his enemy. The incandescent letters coiled around in the air, before merging into the monster’s flesh and bark. The creature coughed a few times, struggling to form sentences. The spell Dipper had read out was meant to translate specific languages, very handy for deciphering ancient codes. In this instance he was hoping it would make the creature a bit easier to understand, as well as making it stick around, awed by his powers.

Feeling quite impressed with his attempt at the spell, Dipper allowed himself a moment of smugness. “Now, are you going to explain what you want?”

“Must… catalogue all unique incidences and occurrences. Unusual artefacts, creatures not found in any bestiary, sacred sites and technological wonders beyond man’s wildest dreams.” Dipper felt momentarily wowed by the creature’s eloquence. It was embodying the journals to a tee and as before spoke with a multitude of voices juggling for dominance. Right now the chorus favoured Pacifica’s tones. “I am diary, journal, epistolary, record, and scribble. I am what’s hidden between the lines, confined to the margins, buried in subtext! I am Errata!” The sigil acting as the creature’s mouth twisted into an approximation of a smile.

Dipper opened his journal and scribbled a note. “Errata… is that with two T’s, or-”

“Silence!” The sigil curved into an ugly expression. Dipper’s attempt at levity had evidently failed to be appreciated. The creature wrapped its arms over its chest and shivered. “Mason Pines, you are prolific in my tapestry. Amongst the rest you imbued so much of your essence into me. You could say I’m an open book.”

“Ha,” Dipper said without humour. “So, you have intelligence, you can recognise me. Do you, I don’t know, revere me or something?” He resisted the urge to lift up his hair to show the constellation birthmark as if it might sway the beast over to his side.

Errata laughed with the mocking guffaws of Stan Pines. “No thank you, human. I am an independent entity now, not some puppet.”

“What do you want then? Just to wander around causing havoc?”

“I hunger for esoteric knowledge. I must consume that which is forbidden or arcane and feast on the ignorance of fools. Perhaps I will take some of your secrets, Mason.” Dipper took a step back. He was starting to suspect his hypothesis about the creature’s innocence was misplaced. That sounded like deliberate malice.

“Hey, we can help you. My family knows all sorts of stuff… although I suppose you’re probably made out of all of it already.” Dipper felt like he was running out of options. The creature didn’t seem swayed by his words.

Sniffing the air, Errata winced with pain, as if suffering from a headache. “This place is so mundane, so trivial. My apotheosis is incomplete. Perhaps I can speed things along.”

“Woah woah woah, you don’t have to do anything rash-”

The chimaera ignored him and spread his hands wide towards the sky. Columns of steam shot out and Dipper started to sweat. The creature screamed in a mix of pain and pleasure, a single great exaltation. Then it was gone, melting away like a ghost. In its place, more of the golden aura, a sight Dipper was growing to greatly dislike squinting at. Unlike the painstaking birth of the chimaera, this aura formed a recognisable shape almost instantly.

Dipper had to do a double take. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Errata had come from the journal after all.

Standing before him was a Mishipeshu, a fur-coated mix of catfish and tiger. This was his most recent find recorded in the journal, which they’d helped rescue in Salem. But as soon as the water-panther tried to bound away it melted back into plasma. A second later it reformed into a gangly legged, stalk-like alien with a bulbous cranium and protruding whiskers. Dipper recognised this as one of the Grown, a colonising fungus species Pacifica had extensively detailed in her journal after an encounter on a far-off planet.

Even this didn’t last, with the apparition morphing straight into a familiar pack of pointy-hatted gnomes, then a moustache-wearing hexagon and a flying phoenix he knew as his daughter’s pet. On and on it went, unable to fix on a single appearance and drawing from the collection of journals his family had contributed to in the last half a century. Even human beings appeared in the mix - if a Pines had written about or sketched someone then they were fair game.

Eventually the mass of energy split apart. Two or three distinct constructs began to run off into the city, each one morphing between different shapes from the journals and retaining that unmistakable golden hue. Dipper watched as a cackling hand-witch sprinted off in one direction, a hairy Standyak leapt off onto the nearest rooftop, and a herd of manotaurs charged down the street towards the Mini. Mabel climbed onto the nearest car to avoid the stampede, and Merrise was buffeted in the car.

Mr and Mrs Pines were directly in the path of the manotaurs. Dipper fruitlessly reached out a hand but they were too far away for him to do anything. Utterly lost, his parents stood there frozen like deer in headlights. He winced and fell to his knees, unable to prevent the collision.

Until an orb of orange fire consumed them first. Dipper’s jaw dropped, as the stampede thundered on. A second later his parents re-emerged on the sidewalk out of another cone of fire. Dazed, they were both shaken but otherwise unhurt. Dipper breathed a sigh of relief. As the clatter of hoofbeats faded away he saw Zera, deep in concentration just up the street.

Running up towards him, Pacifica was carrying Wendy in a sling. She helped him to his feet. “Easy there. It’s over.” Dipper stared around at the chaos. It was just like the golf course, with cars strewn about and people hiding behind cover, scared to come out.

“Oh Paz, it’s only just begun- ow!”

She’d punched him in the arm. “Don’t give me that over-dramatic crap. That’s for summoning up a magical demon in the single hour we were apart. C’mon Mason, that’s rule number one of good parenting.”

He could only laugh at the absurdity of it all. “I’m just glad to see you guys. We’re going to need all hands on deck to deal with this. A creature infestation is about to be let loose all over the city!”

“One thing at a time.” Her eyes flicked over to the Mini, where Mabel and Merrise had reunited with Zera. The alien was helping Mr and Mrs Pines after their near-impact. Mabel came over and led her parents to a nearby bench.

“That was… I don’t know what that was,” Mr Pines said, slightly crazed with adrenaline. Mrs Pines was staying silent for now, processing all that had happened in the last few minutes. “Zera, what on Earth just happened?” He had seen the magical aura surrounding her when she’d cast the teleport spell, a special technique favoured by her teacher in the mystic arts.

Zera kicked her heels and remained tight-lipped, unsure how much to reveal even now. Mabel’s face was full of indecision, so Zera caved. “It was a teleportation vortex. I moved you out of the way of the herd using… magic.”

“Ha, of course,” Mr Pines replied, laughing hysterically. “Next you’ll tell me you’re from another planet. What, do you, ha, have your own spaceship or something?”

“No, I don’t have a spaceship,” Zera deadpanned, and Mabel drew a sigh of relief. The true nature of her wife’s identity could stay hidden for the time being. “Not my own anyway. If I put out a beacon or something I could probably hitch a lift off world.”

Her father’s laugh died in his throat. “You’re… you’re serious.” He was now staring agog. Zera toyed with her earring and Mabel knew this was it. If she switched off the filter there was definitely no going back. This was the last possible moment they could backtrack. They could paper over all of this, maybe claim it as some kind of massive joke gone way out of hand. It could all be wrapped up and hidden again just like Dipper wanted.

On the other hand… in one simple second it would all be over, the charade, the lies of the last 20 years, the anxious waiting for the bubble to burst. So Mabel stood there and let her wife deactivate the illusion. No putting the genie back in the bottle now.

Zera tapped her earring. A brief ripple passed over her body. Her tanned skin became iridescent scales tinged aqua and turquoise, and the fins on her head and arms unfurled. “This is me,” she said, flashing a toothy grin and giving a thumbs up to Mabel. She could only shake her head at her wife’s innocent naivety.

“Holy cats…” her father began, but Mrs Pines interrupted.

“You really are an alien. A real life, actual alien.” Tentatively she reached out and brushed against Zera’s scales. They were smooth and slightly moist. Her fingers recoiled. “Let me guess,” she said somewhat bitterly, “My daughter fell in love with your human form then found out the truth?”

“Not exactly. Mabel fell in love with the fish part first.” Mrs Pines gave a small whimper. Zera smiled weakly. “You know, I was telling the truth about the magic as well. I suppose you could call me a space witch.”

“Z?” Mabel said.

“Yeah?”

“Not helping.”

“Oh.”

Pacifica was suddenly beside them, snapping her fingers. “Yo, ‘shape of water’, let’s focus. You can destroy all semblance of your perfect family life later. Right now we’ve got a bigger problem.”

Dipper was already strapped in and starting up the car with Merrise in back. She was gesturing for them to get in. There was only enough room for three more passengers and Mabel decided she couldn’t bear the thought of enduring the car ride back with her parents. “Zera? Whoosh us up another portal, would you babe?” Zera nodded, realising what she wanted. She flashed an apologetic look at her in-laws, then started speaking the words of the incantation.

Mabel hugged each of her parents, one after the other. “I promise, we’ll help you understand all of this when we get home. Or, at least Dipper will. This was all his bright idea in the first place.”

With that she stepped into a column of blinding fire and was whisked away, leaving her befuddled parents staring speechless.

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfic #pacifica nortwest #dipper pines #mabel pines #dipper and mabel's parents

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acacia-may · 1 year

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Special Sauce and Stork Paintings

Description: To Charmy, all meals are important, but this may be one of the most important meals of her life. Or it would be...if her husband Rill wasn't so oblivious and bad at guessing games that is...

Rating: G

Warnings: Nothing But Fluff Here!

Fandom: Black Clover

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Domestic Bliss, Slice of Life, Married Friends, Self-Indulgent

Relationships: Charmy Pappitson/Rill Boismortier

Characters: Charmy Pappitson and Rill Boismortier

Word Count: 1296

Link to original post on AO3. Please do not repost to another site. Thank you for reading!

Story Below the Cut

With a sigh, Charmy brought her sauce to a low simmer. She gave it a thorough stir before picking up a nearby spoon and giving it a taste. It was still missing something… She just wasn’t sure what that was exactly. Sighing again, she twisted her mouth to one side in concentration, combing through her spice rack trying to decide what ingredients she should add. She supposed it was fine as it was, but she wanted it to be better, perfect even, if she could manage it. Every meal was an important one as far as Charmy was concerned, and she always tried her best to make the most perfect delicious dishes, but this meal was special. It might be one of the most important meals of her entire life.

“Mhmm…that smells delicious,” Rill hummed affectionately as he wrapped his arms around her waist hugging her from the back and pressing his chin to her shoulder. “What are you making, Mrs. Boismortier?”

Charmy rolled her eyes with an almost affection as he kissed her cheek. They had been married for years—she would have expected the novelty of calling her that to have worn off by now.

“You’re such a goofball,” she teased, giving her sauce another stir.

“You didn’t answer my question. Unless you want me to guess…?” Chuckling, Rill reached for a clean spoon, but before he could dip it into the saucepan for a taste, Charmy playfully swatted his hand away.

“Stop that. It’s not done yet.” Rill pouted playfully but eventually conceded—placing the spoon on the counter as Charmy reached for two of her spice jars and sprinkled some into the saucepan. She stirred, then took a taste. She smiled. “Now it’s done.”

Rill beamed at her. “Great! Let’s eat! I’m starving!”

“I’m glad, la,” she said with a playful kiss on his nose. “That is barbeque sauce.” She pointed to the steaming saucepan. “For the—”

“Ribs?” Rill cut her off, his face practically lighting up as he noticed the pan filled with the roasted meat. “Can I paint them?”

“It’s called basting…” Charmy sighed with a shake of her head and a lopsided twitch of her mouth. “But sure, have at it.”

A smile tugged at Charmy’s lips as she watched Rill positively beaming as he covered the ribs in barbeque sauce with long strokes of the basting brush. It was his favourite part of cooking—besides plating dishes, adding garnishes, and decorating pastries—and he took it very seriously, even taking a step back to examine the ribs between the frame he made with his hands as if they were a work of art rather than just their dinner. It was not long before the ribs, the pan, the counter, and Rill were all thoroughly covered in barbeque sauce.

“You’ve got sauce all over you, la,” she teased as she wiped some off of his cheek and put the ribs back into the oven for their last few minutes of cooking time before she took one of Rill’s hands. “You’ve got paint under your fingernails again too. Why don’t you wash up? It’ll be another 10 or 15 minutes before the ribs are ready.”

Nodding, Rill shrugged his shoulders before disappearing through the kitchen door. He returned right as the ribs were cooling off. “Perfect timing!” he said with a smile. “You ready to eat?”

“Always.”

Usually on a special occasion such as this she would have insisted on plating their food—or would have let Rill plate the food since he was so fond of it—but since it was clear that Rill was in such a hurry to eat, she supposed they could just serve themselves buffet-style. Even so, Rill’s plate looked like something from her and Vanessa’s restaurant. He even pulled a sprig of rosemary out of the little spice garden in the kitchen windowsill to set on top of his potatoes as a garnish. Charmy supposed it was possible Rill had picked the rosemary at random, but she liked to think he had been learning all of the different spices from her and knew that rosemary was, in fact, one of the main ingredients in their potatoes that evening. The thought made her smile.

With full plates, they made their way into the dining room. Charmy had lost track of how many times it had been repainted over the course of their marriage—as repainting the rooms of their house seemed to be Rill’s favourite pastime or perhaps his favourite method for dispelling boredom. It was currently a sky blue with a mural of flying white birds with long, black-tipped wings on the far wall. Storks.

Charmy stifled a chuckle. Her husband had a bad case of baby fever, as Vanessa would probably say, and those little white birds had been popping up everywhere in his paintings and murals for the last several months since they had started seriously discussing the possibility of starting a family.

“So what are we having tonight?” Rill asked, and Charmy’s smile widened.

“Well, we have some baby carrots with a brown sugar glaze. Some sauteed baby bella mushrooms. Some rosemary baby red potatoes, and then some baby back ribs.”

Rill hummed before he put a forkful of potatoes in his mouth. “It’s delicious. Thank you.”

“There’s a theme, la.”

“A theme?” Rill asked—looking up from his plate. Charmy nodded excitedly, unable to hold back the near giddy grin that tugged at her mouth.

“Something all the foods have in common.”

Rill’s brow furrowed, and he examined his plate very carefully. “They’re all warm colors!”

Blinking at him, Charmy sighed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Of course, Rill would think of something artsy and out of the box like that. “Well…yes…but that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, la…”

“Hmm…” He tilted his head to the left; then hummed again tilting his head to the right. “Hmm… I don’t know. Can I have a hint?”

“How about I tell you the foods again?” suggested Charmy, something sparkling in her eyes as she began to point to each one in succession on her plate. “Baby carrots. Baby bella mushrooms.”

“Baby carrots, and baby bella mushrooms,” Rill repeated with a thoughtful nod.

“Baby red potatoes—”

“They’re all vegetables?” Rill interrupted before he stopped himself—twisting his mouth to one side and thoughtfully pressing his hand to his chin. “Well…I guess, except the ribs.”

“The baby back ribs,” Charmy corrected him pointedly.

“Right. The baby back…” His voice trailed, and his eyes widened with realization as they met hers. “The baby—baby…” he began to stammer almost incoherently as his face lit up with the brightest most excited smile. “Are you…? Are we…?”

Charmy beamed at him, nodded enthusiastically. “Mhmm…” She gave her stomach a pat, just in case he somehow still didn’t get it, and he practically jumped up from his seat at the table and rushed over to her, picking her up and twirling her around. Through her laughter, she barely managed a breathy, “Rill. Rill, put me down.”

Once her feet were firmly planted on the dining room floor again, he gently cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. “We—we’re having a baby!”

“I take it you’re happy?” she asked with a smile, and he beamed right back at her.

“Happy? I’m ecstatic! This is the best news ever! I’m going to think of a great mural to paint in the baby’s room—maybe some flowers or trees or a pond with some ducks…”

“Well…”—Charmy teased with a chuckle—“the good news is you won’t have to paint any storks anymore.”

And he didn’t. At least, not until he wanted to give their son a younger sibling…

#charmy x rill #rill x charmy #rillmy #rill boismortier x charmy pappitson #charmy pappitson x rill boismortier #black clover writing request #limited edition romance writing event #can acacia write romance? let's see...#writing requests #thank you for the request #this is my favourite Black Clover ship ngl #I love them I love them so much! <3 #thank you so much for giving me an excuse to be this self-indulgent

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samanthamarkle92 · 1 year

Text

Here’s part two of my Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare fic! Part 1 is here if you missed it! Enjoy!

Author's Note: Hey readers! This is going to feature Ghost without his mask! Hope I did the fans justice! Pics are from Pinterest! Little shout out to @cravingcoldoreocake123, @m0chac0ffee, and @nsharks @cheezbites @ladyelissarose

***********

Ghost woke up in a dimly lit room. A hard mattress was underneath him. The room smelled musty, but he could make out the smells of cooking, of sweat and disinfectant. His shoulder throbbed. The bedding felt scratchy and rough on his skin. He could hear the distant sound of a television. Not all houses had them in this area. He went to rub his eyes, and realized his mask was gone. He looked and saw his clothes folded on the floor beside the mattress. He heard a door open and craned his head slightly, seeing the kid come into the room. The kid said one word in English before lapsing back into Farsi.

“Awake!” he exclaimed, and rushed over to the other side of the room. Ghost sat up, wincing in pain. He had to use every bit of strength to keep his body up as the kid rummaged through something. The kid grabbed what appeared to be a box, and returned to Ghost.

“Here.” he said. Ghost took the box carefully and opened the flap. Tea bags. Oh, the kid figured out he was British and knew people from England liked tea. Good work, kid. He set the box down. He looked down and saw his shoulder had been bandaged. The boy noticed this and went back into the other room, coming back holding a small piece of metal.

“Bullet was in you.”

“Did your mum take it out?”

The kid looked confused. Maybe he didn't know enough to understand. The door opened and a woman stepped in. Her face was covered, but she seemed young.

“I’m sorry if my brother is bothering you.” Her English was stilted, but clear.

“Don't worry, I needed the company.”

“Farid, go to the kitchen.” The woman said to the boy. Farid walked into the next room.

“My name's Amina.”she said softly. “What are you doing all alone in the middle of nowhere? Are you lost? Do you need help?”

“Yes. No! Yes? I’ll...I guess I'll explain everything later.”

Amina left the room and came back with a plate. She sat it in front of Ghost.

"You need to eat."

Ghost looked at it; rice and beans. He could smell some kind of spice; cumin, and maybe turmeric. He picked up the spoon.

"I'm sorry." Amina continued. "I hope you feel better soon.”

"Where is your family?" he asked, taking a bite of the rice and beans. The spices exploded across his taste buds.

“My parents died a few years ago. It's just Farid and me. Don't worry about the other villagers; nobody comes out this way.”

She paused.

“Why are you wearing a military uniform? You're a soldier yourself?”

Ghost looked up from his meal.

“I don't want to talk about it.”

Amina sighed. He wondered if she understood him.

“Alright.” Amina glanced at him. A scarf covered most of her face, but Ghost couldn't help but notice that she had the most beautiful green eyes. They were piercing and intense.

"If you need anything, you call me. I'll tell Farid. He'll get you anything you want. Now, finish eating. You look very hungry.”

**************

After eating, they talked for a while. Amina told him about her life growing up in the village. She was too young to remember the first time the Taliban had been pushed out, but she remembered the short years of going to school; learning English, wondering about the world outside her village. Her parents had been modern; wanting their daughter to have a future, their young son to know peace. It hadn’t lasted, though.

“Do you have a family back in England?” Amina asked.

Ghost didn’t know how to answer that. What could he tell her?

“I did…” He said. Amina didn’t ask anything else. She picked up the dishes and left the room. After she left, Ghost stood painfully. He was still in his fatigue pants, and an old t-shirt had been pulled on over him. His boots were by the bed. He saw a bathroom, and walked in. Amina’s family must have been lucky, there was a sink and shower. He figured there must be an outhouse. He looked in the mirror, feeling weird without his mask. Amina must have washed his face; his camo makeup was gone. A few scars were etched on his face; old battles still there. He went back to the mattress, feeling drained. He knew he couldn’t stay here long, but he was thankful to still be alive. Thankful that someone had saved him.

#original character #fanfic #call of duty #cod mwii #ghost mw2 #simon riley #simon ghost riley

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movedtodykedvonte · 1 year

Note

Happy Valentine’s Day (or late Valentine’s Day depending lol) There’s something I’ve been wondering since the last chapter of CDAP- what would happen if Vidie and Spam had tried the other Addison teas?

Ok so if they tried the other teas I think it would have gone a bit differently.

Spamton would probably jokingly rate the flavors and be a bit honest about how each had changed and lamented on whether he missed the old flavors or not. I think he would leave it vague if he did or not, both so Vidie wouldn't tell and to not hurt Vidie if he avoided doing so when he eventually got to her tea. Vidie would drink the teas and feel a lot of remorse with each of them. Despite Spamton not really hating the new flavors, Vidie may have had a worse reaction cause well... The ads spent years actively building resentment toward each other. They of course missed each other but part of why they never tried to reconcile outside of Spam coming back was bitterness. Vidie would taste a weird and overwhelming combination of the nice flavor she remembers and the unsavory ones they are currently still working through. Spamton missed them a lot, and his pallet is more pliable. To be honest, it would depend on the day on how well the tea tasted, the chapter happen to be a day he was feeling very fondly of Vidie.

It would end the same, with Vidie and Spamton tasting each other's teas and becoming a bit emotional but otherwise I feel like it would give Vidie some chip on his shoulder that they shared this little gossip moment. As for the taste of each tea to Vidie and Spam:

Banner Tea: It's watered down for Vidie currently, a bitterness kinda like alcohol with a faint sweetness reminding her how it should taste. Maybe she can taste more of it with every sip or maybe it's just hope. Once upon a time it had the playful taste of blackberries mixed with it but it's pretty dull now. A good tea to think with still.

For Spamton it's the opposite, sweet like you tried to cover up its naturally bitter taste but overdid it which makes it all the worse. The saving grace is the taste of blueberries, which almost feel like it was brewed in the juice. It tastes like an unripe fruit all things considered and he continues to drink it to imagine what it could be like if you gave it more time to grow.

Surv Tea: To Vidie it's Lemon ginger tea with way too much ginger, like you took a bite of ginger and then drank hot lemon water. It tastes over-brewed like you missed a mark by waiting too long, it's got that spice-like burn that only lingers for a second, reminding you that you messed up even if it isn't saying so. Can easily be fixed with some sweetness and some ice.

To Spam, it's your average black tea with lemon in it, but sugar instead of honey. It for all intents and purposes tastes the same as it did before but the sweetness seems more artificial and he can somehow taste the bitterness from the lemon rind. It's not unappetizing but it's disappointing cause it could've been better if you just switched a few things around.

Audi Tea: Vidie knows it's not supposed to be this watered down. Think of sweet iced tea with an orange slice dropped in, citrus that doesn't exactly add a twang but still enhances the flavor. Now imagine that it didn't brew long enough and the ice has melted and the orange wasn't juicy enough. It's palatable but it tastes like something that would've been perfect if you just gave it more attention. It's still pretty refreshing so I guess it's not that bad...

This is the sweetest tea Spamton has ever tasted. It's like orange marmalade and passion tea had a baby. It's not bad but it's hard to take in one sitting like you'd start to feel ill cause you or rather Spam just isn't used to it anymore. The orangey taste isn't defined anymore either which makes the sweetness just that much more overbearing. It's not the tea's fault but it's gonna take some time until Spam can handle it all again.

#ask #anon #happy late valentines ask #i just couldn't think of what the other teas would actually be #like i know the taste but the irl equivalent escaped me.#cause like each have 4 slightly different teas and I doe no know 20 distinct types of teas #nor have i tried enough iterations of the ones I know to go into spects #utdr #spamton #deltarune #royal blue #pink drink #when life gives you lemons #marmalade #CDAP au #the addisons #all we do is date

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jiinxxxed · 2 years

Text

alexa...play cybersex by dojacat..

MINORS DNI 18+

miya atsumu x f!reader

genre: smut, camgirl au, college au

content warnings: 18+, cam girl/college au, mutual masturbation(m/f), sex toy, deepthroathing(?? i guess), cam-girl reader, fingering, voyeurism, spitting, cat-ears mentioned(i was going to use the cat ears but i forgot that i mentioned them in the halfway of writing so.. reader just wears cat-ears but that's it lol )(let me know if i missed any warnings)

word count: 1.5k

a/n: i want to write a part 2 for this, so please let me know if you would be interested lol i am nervous hope you'll enjoy!!

“Hey, have ya guys checked this website? www…”

Atsumu’s phone rings with a new message from the group chat. His teammates are apparently going crazy with the live-cam website that went viral on social media. He drops his physics assignment he’s been working on, just to see what makes his friends go crazy like that.

“Atsumu you have to see this one, I KNOW this is your type. “www…'' Sakusa teases him through group chat. He is kinda irritated, but deep inside he also knows he’s excited to see what Sakusa recommended to him. With a soft touch on the screen an excessively pink website appears in front of him. He walks up to the door to make sure no one interrupts him, with a single click the door locks.

Atsumu starts to explore the page then, and for his luck, cam-girl’s live in a few minutes.

Meanwhile, in your room, you desperately look for the mask you always put on before streams. You already know you’re screwed once your identity is found out. You take your physics assignment off the floor, and from there your dear mask is glowing like a saviour. You hurriedly put on your mask, make your last preparations before pushing the tiny button on your camera’s right corner.

You’re live.

Cam-girl’s live.

Atsumu sucks in a breath once he sees the girl in black matching underwear on his screen. He shamelessly observes the curvy outlines of your thighs, going upper at your smooth waist line. It hasn’t been more than one minute since the live stream started but, Atsumu is already having a hard time trying to control his feeling of arousal. You don’t talk ever in your live streams, you think it’s better to give people what they expect and get in the business without much unnecessary chit-chat. You reach out to your cat-ears letting out a sigh, using the camera as a mirror you place the ears on top of your head, doing it all in slow motion while pouting your lips as you get close to the camera.It doesn’t take a genius to know what people like, and you can see the increasing amount of donations and messages as you perform to your confirmation. So you decide to stay there a bit more. Shoving your thin finger into your mouth, you keep your eye contact on the camera. In and out, in and out..corner of your lips go upwards as you keep shoving and letting out soft moans to the mic.

You add another finger, and then another, sucking and licking them as you fuck your mouth with your own fingers, and while doing that adding soothing purring sounds to the spice.

Atsumu knows you haven’t even started, the lust in your eyes clearly shows even if your face is mostly covered with the mask. What’s bad is that even if you haven’t started, Atsumu doesn’t know if he will last until you do. His growing bulge is starting to irritate him, so he gets rid of his bothersome pants.

With a pop sound you take your fingers out of your mouth, but in fact your show is not over yet. This time you shove only two fingers in, right deep in your throat, rolling your eyes backwards as you arch your neck backwards as well. Atsumu waits for a specific sound, the one that people usually make once you force something on to their throats. His strokes on his cock slows down so he can clearly hear you. And yet, no sound other than your breath reaches him. Which confirms your lack of gag reflex. This realization causes him a tighter hold on his cock, “Did she just…fuck..” Up and down, with an increasing acceleration his motions follow yours’. Keeping your eyes right on the middle of the camera, as if you were eye to eye with him, asserting your dominance through the glass screen. As if you were next to him, he couldn’t dare to take his eyes off of yours. Keeping the contact you stepped back, allowing your whole body to be seen on the screen. Touching your body, putting your hands on your waist and caressing your body following up until your tiddies.

He feels edged because of your slow and seductive movements. You know you’re playing with your audience, and this feeling of control feeds your unresolved goddess complex. You take a great look at yourself through the camera, making sure you’re presenting your body as irresistible as you feel.

Turning your back, you bend forward, because it’s time to step up this game and spice this play a little up. The bed is positioned right in front of your camera, you make millimetric calculations to make sure you can present all of your alluring body through a perfect angle to a whole screen. Arching yourself to your front, reaching out under the bed to take your pretty toys out, while doing so making sure your adorable black panties are presented in a way that shows the even darker colored hole appeared where your pretty pussy’s at.

You straighten your body slowly as you take the pink dildo in your hand, with a cute little run you come back closer to your camera. With a smiling face, you put forward your luscious toy.

Sticking your tongue out, positioning your mouth even downer, so you can lick all the way up. As your tongue makes its way on the toy, you keep your eyes on your camera, on him. And he follows you, as he matches his movements to yours. His eyes are fixated on where your mouth is, and for that moment he uses all his strength to imagine it’s your glistening tongue on his cock instead of his hands. You go faster, taking it all in your mouth. He spits in his palm for more of a sensation as you bob your head up and down, and you let your free right hand down your pussy. Making small circles on your clit makes you let out breathy moans to the dildo you’re sucking. You stop moving your head, and so he stops, and watches you as you replay that party trick you just presented. You push your head forward until you feel the tip touching deep in your throat.

With a last sucking on the toy, you decide to make a real show. Tossing the toy aside, you position yourself back on your bed, spreading your legs wide open. Your camera captures the insides of your black little underwear, and so he does. His eyes wide open as he unashamedly examines your glistening pussy covered in tiny clothing. You caress the wet hole on the cloth.

“This bitch is getting the way isn’t it?” you mumble, as you take it off. You don’t realize you’re talking, which you really be careful about in your streams. Full focus drawing rhythmed circles on your clit, and this time he can have a full view of yours. Hearing your voice made his experience even better. One hand keeps the rhythm as the other explores your body, groping your titties. Letting out delicate sounds, going straight to Atsumu’s dick. He knows he is close, yet still mesmerized by your sight he keeps in sync with you.

You slip a finger in, and then another, yet your index finger keeps its moves on your clit. You’re no longer soft with your moans, you’re enjoying yourself and you want him to know that. His groans are getting stronger, you arch your back as you get faster with your movements. As you get close, you no longer let out soft moans; instead, you squeak, as if you’re so close but can never reach it to the end. And then you finish, rolling your eyes backward and a drool leaking out your mouth. You would call this ugly, yet thousands just jerked off to that view of yours. Atsumu could swear he saw a halo on top of your head at that moment you finished, totally captivated by the scenery. He finishes with you, cums so hard surprises himself. He just jerked off, to a cam-girl his friend sent. And he enjoyed it, way too much.

You wave a last goodbye to your viewers, as a way to end the stream. As you reach out to the computer to end the stream, your camera loses its balance, falls right on the assignment you earlier put on. It just takes a mere second, you end the stream as fast as you can, hoping that last scene won’t take any serious attention.

And yet, he notices. He recognizes. Recognises the red-marked physics assignment he delivered today, to the awkward girl in his department. “..No way that’s her, right?..” Atsumu, the class representative, who the physics professor has assigned to deliver the marked papers especially to you. He recognized your paper as soon as he saw that one millisecond of your shot of desk. As he realizes, he stands in shock, could it really be, the weird girl that talks to no one, could she be the hot cam-girl he just jerked off to?

You take a soothing bath thinking about the money you’ve made today, and get ready to have a peaceful sleep, with no single clue that Atsumu now knows who you really are.

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