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xoxo-sarah · 16 days

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I Wanna Be Yours || Part 15

Part 14 | part 16

↝a/n: I was supposed to post this earlier this morning but got distracted by Spencer Reid fanfics. I'm sure y'all understand 😞

↝pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!Wheeler!reader

↝ Warning: not proofread, possible spoilers, cannon events, angst, fear, Vecna, upside down and it's gross self, switch of pov at the beginning- it's Robin's pov for the last chapter, shorter than my other chapters, second to last chapter!!

↝⎙ 9.7.24

-Robin and Steve's POV-

“Maybe she's just scared,” Steve started, keeping his voice down as to not alert Nance or you. He saw how you pulling away had affected her. The hurt was evident on her face, even more so as you walked away. He had never seen Robin hurt like that, like she was a kicked puppy. As soon as the door to the RV shut, Robin busied herself, grabbing bottles and tins of kerosene. “Given the situation, I'd say it's normal to feel that w-”

“Steve,”

“What?”

“I don't care.” She sighed.

Steve watched her. “And I don't understand why you do either with everything that is going on. She has other things to worry about.” Although she couldn't tell him about you being cursed, she had a hunch that he already knew. Who wouldn't? “Honestly, this feels like the perfect time for that pull of the rug because, in the face of the world ending, the stakes of my love life feel spectacularly low.”

Steve looked over at his best friend, sympathy lacing his furrowed eyebrows, “Exactly, today could be our last day, spend it with her. You deserve to be happy.”

Robin shook her head, opting not to reply.

It was a kiss- well, many kisses. She wouldn't lie and say that she didn't like it, but she would understand if you could. The timing was God-awful, she'd admit.

Maybe Robin should pull away, at least until this is all over.

Things don't always go as planned.

“Help!” Nancy yelled from inside the van.

Steve and Robin were instantly on their feet, scrambling to the door.

Once inside, Robin felt the world stop spinning.

-----regular POV-----

“Escapade” by Janet Jackson played through the headphones covering your ears. Robin sat beside you in the back of the RV, hand encasing yours. Dustin and Eddie were on the other side of her. Although you were squished against the window, you hadn't felt more content, which was crazy given the circumstances. Steve was currently driving you all to your possible deaths.

Robin's hand let go of your hand, moving to squeeze at your thigh. Looking away from the passing trees, you turned to her concerned eyes. She stared into your own for a moment, before leaning forward. Her lips met your cheek, unsaid words being left behind when she pulled away.

The van came to a stop. Max, Lucas, and Erica got out, walking toward the Creel house.

The RV was now parked in the woods beside the trailer park. Nancy paced the van, before stopping. “Okay, I wanna run through it one more time. Phase one-”

“We meet Erika at the playground. She'll signal Max and Lucas when we're ready.” You answered first, fiddling with the headphones around your neck.

Nancy nodded, “Phase two?”

“Max baits Vecna.” Steve added. “He'll go after her, which will put him in his trance.”

“Phase three?”

Dustin answered, “Me and Eddie draw the bats away.” Eddie cupped Dustin's head, shaking it with a grin on his face.

“Four?” “We head into Vecna's hopefully newly bat-free lair and-” Robin held up the glass bottle with a cloth sticking out of the top. The flammable liquid sloshed around. “Flambé”

“Nobody moves on to the next phase until we've all copied. Nobody deviates from the plan, no matter what. Got it?”

You all nodded, “Got it.”

You grabbed a few of the homemade spears, following Nancy out of the RV. You quickly made your way to Eddie's trailer, Steve flipped the light switch on, staring at the old sheet hanging from the ceiling.

“Be careful.” Dustin told Steve, watching as he took his bag off.

“Thanks, buddy.” Steve patted Dustin's arm, before grabbing the sheet. “Here goes nothing” He climbed through, flipping to land of his feet.

As soon as he stood, he looked up. Robin muttered sarcastically, “woah…what does he want us to do, applaud?” You smiled, amused, before watching Steve drag the old mattress over, plopping it on the ground.

“Alright, let's go.” Nancy shrugged her bag off. Robin dropped to one knee, offering an extra boost.

After Nancy fell on the mattress, Robin motioned for you. She helped you step on her connected hands, pushing you up. Supplies dropped next, followed by Eddie.

Robin flopped on the mattress. You were quick to help her up. Your hands stayed intertwined even after she was off the gross mattress. More supplies, then Dustin.

Walking into the familiar darkness, the flying particles didn't bother you as much as before.

“Hey, guys, listen.” Steve stopped walking, turning back to Eddie and Dustin. “If things here start to go south, I mean, at all, you abort. Okay? Draw the attention of the bats. Keep 'em busy for a minute or two. We'll take care of Vecna. Don't try to be cute or be a hero or something. Okay? You guys are just-”

“Decoys.” Dustin and Steve's voice overlapped. “Don't worry. You can be the hero, Steve.” Dustin sighed.

“Absolutely, I mean,” Eddie looked between himself and Dustin, “Look at us. We are not heroes.” He grinned at Steve.

Steve turned around, beginning to walk toward you guys.

“Hey, Wheeler.” You turned, seeing Eddie looking at you. You jogged over, not wanting to keep your group from the mission for long. He took you by surprise as he brought you into a hug. “Make him pay.” His words were mumbled into your hair. “For Chrissy.” He squeezed your arms, before pulling away. Smiling, he let you go.

Determination ran through your veins.

“When Vecna fails with Max, he's going to go after you. Keep this on.” Nancy stood in front of you, grabbing the headphones from your neck and placing them on you. She left one ear uncovered, so you could still hear what was happening around you. “Stay close.”

She turned back around, following Robin and Steve through the dead woods.

“Uh,” Robin's voice shook, as she shined her light on a tree. “I don't mean to freak anyone out, but I swear we've seen this tree before.”

“That's impossible.” Nancy walked closer.

“That would suck, right?” Robin threw her head back, exasperated. “If…if Vecna destroyed the world because…'cause we got lost in the woods?”

“We're not lost, Robin.”

She chuckled in response, unsure. She walked ahead, seemingly losing her mind in the process.

Nancy watched her run ahead, “Robin, hey. Watch out for the vines-Hive mind! Remember?”

“Thank you!” Robin jogged ahead.

“Ah, don't worry about her.” Steve threw his hands up. You quickened your pace, shining your light to watch your step.

“Robin, hey, slow down.” You fell in step with Robin, turning to watch her side profile. “Take a breath, okay?”

She inhaled through her nose, exhaling through her mouth. “The weight of the world is on our shoulders right now. I mean, the rest of the world doesn't even know what's about to happen. They're clueless. What…what if this doesn't work? What is Vecna outsmarts us?”

“Robin,”

“We don't actually know if this is going to work.”

“Robin.”

“We could all die, and then Vecna can do god only knows what else to Hawkins.”

“Robin!”

You pulled her shirt, causing her to stumble backwards, away from the vine she nearly stepped on. She blinked at the vine, before looking at you. “Thanks.”

You nodded, grabbing her hand. “Everything will be okay. We're doing all we can.”

Bats flew around the old house that once belonged to the Creel family. Vecna was the only one occupying it now. In front of it was the playground you were to meet Erica at. You all gazed at it from your stop on the hill, thinking over the plan, ignoring the anxiety in your stomach.

“Okay, the lovebirds have copied.” Erica spoke from the other side, the particles growing brighter on your side. “Max is moving into phase two: Distracting Vecna.”

“So far, so smooth.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed with Robin, “We're not even at the hard part yet.”

Thunder mixed with the sounds of creatures lurking.

“Take the bail, you son of a bitch.” Nancy glared at the house, “Take the bait.”

“Okay, she's in. Initiate phase three.” Erica spoke again,

“She's in. Move on to phase three.” You echoed into the walkie.

“Copy that. Initiating phase three.” Dustin concluded. Eddie began playing “Master of Puppets” by Metallica, the music vibrating the very ground you stood on. The bats snarled loudly, flying toward the sound.

“Okay, it's working. Let's go.” You quickly made your way to the house, Vine/tentacles squelched wetly, making you frown in disgust.

“Oh shit,” They were everywhere, covering the floor, walls, even the ceiling. “That's not good.” Steve grumbled. He jumped over the slithering vines. Robin cursed when he waddled before regaining his footing.

Robin grabbed your hand, squeezing it, as she gnawed at her bottom lip.

“It's okay.” Nancy spoke.

"You got this,” You squeezed Robin's hand in reassurance, offering her a smile. She reluctantly let go, stepping forward to follow what Steve did.

You went next, followed by Nancy. You held your breath as you hopped up the stairs. Steve helped you on the final step. As soon as everyone stepped forward, finally being able to breathe, the ground shook, sending you all three steps back.

You quickly huddled together, holding each other tight.

Robin sighed before her head snapped down, watching a vine wrap around her leg. She looked up, panic in her eyes. Before she could say anything, she got yanked back, against the wall. You shrieked, moving toward her.

“Y/n! Steve!” You swung the hatchet down on the vine with force, Nancy and Steve doing the same.

Bringing the hatchet back, something wet wrapped your wrist, pulling you back. Yelping, you collided with the wall on the other side of Robin. Your weapon clattered to the ground. Steve was grabbed next, then Nancy. More tentacles wrapped around your limbs, slithering tightly around your neck.

You grunted, fighting for oxygen. Looking up, you watched as Robin's lips moved but nothing came out.

Your eyes moved up, meeting her eyes, before your vision became blurry.

• My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [!I don't give permission!]

🫧 Taglistׂׂ ૢ ~ @overtrred28 @ihatepeanutss @jovana1234578 @dobbycarl @kyleeservopoulos @marirxse @ch-3-rry

#xoxo-sarah 🩷#i wanna be yours #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley angst #robin buckley x wheeler!reader #robin x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley fanfiction #📼#stranger things

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not-quite-there-myself · 7 months

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༉‧₊˚ "Happy Birthday, Master Attendant!"

Synopsis: It's been a tough, long year and your birthday rolls around before you know it. To your surprise, your Food Souls all teamed up to host a surprise party for you! But who exactly started the idea to throw you a party? Huh? B... Brownie? Notes: 2k+ words; can be seen as platonic or romantic; gender neutral Master Attendant; painfully self indulgent

REBLOGS & COMMENTS APPRECIATED!

"The restaurant's closed?"

You turn to Milk, confused. After gathering a few new recipes and ingredients with Milk, the two of you returned home for the day. To your surprise, the restaurant front was vacant and the window's curtains had been closed from the inside; it looks like the lights are off, too. There was also a "closed" sign on the restaurant's door just in case anyone didn't get the memo.

She nods, casually replying, "Yes, that's right." Strange, you think. On any regular day, the restaurant would be open and running—thanks to the help of your Food Souls, managing the restaurant was never too much trouble. The sun was still sitting in the sky, and the normal closing time was still hours away. You wondered if you managed to miss a scheduled off-day or something.

Both of you began walking to the side of the restaurant with the intent of entering the back door when Milk stops. "Ah, Master Attendant," she says. "I forgot to mention: Rice wanted to talk to you." Milk walks in front of you, heading to the restaurant area and gesturing for you to follow. "She's in the restaurant waiting for you."

You tilt your head. "Waiting for me?" But the lights in the restaurant are closed, you say internally. If Rice was still in there, wouldn't the lights be on?

Though it was a bit odd, you decided not to dwell on it and followed Milk into the restaurant from the back. Milk steps aside to let you enter first. Before you enter, Milk catches herself letting out a giggle. "Milk?" You turn to her, hand on the doorknob. "What's so funny?" Milk shakes her head, smiling apologetically. "Nothing, Master Attendant. Let's head inside."

You hesitate. "Alright..."

You furrow your brows as you open the door. It's dark, as you expected. What you don't expect is the lights turning on as soon as you enter.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MASTER ATTENDANT!"

The restaurant, filled with full of bright and familiar Food Souls, greet your surprised figure. You freeze in place, very clearly and effectively stunned.

"Oh, wow... I-I don't know what to say..." You look back at everyone, letting out a little laugh after seeing their expectant expressions. "Thank you guys so much! This is really sweet of you, you didn't have to do anything for my birthday." To be honest, you hadn't actually expected everyone to remember. Maybe they hadn't. But then, you wonder, who had?

There was a table nearby with a cluster of presents in all sorts of shapes, sizes, and wrapped in various kinds of coloured paper. Some of the Food Souls insisted you open the presents they got for you. You didn't open all of them right then and there though—there were just too many of them that you feared you wouldn't be able to use your arms the next morning. A good handful of the presents were handmade, and of course there were those who bought things you might like. You appreciated and treasured them all, even if sometimes some of them were a little questionable...

You didn't exactly get a cake. What you did get were several cakes in many flavours, shapes, sizes, and decorated with designs both intricate and simplistic. It honestly baffled you that there was so much variety of cake you weren't likely to eat all by yourself. But what fun would it be to eat a cake by yourself anyway? Not only was there a lot of cake though. Food was also way too much. Looking at it all made you worry just how many left overs you'll end up trying to cram in the fridge. Hopefully some Food Souls were big eaters...

The party is filled with music and laughter, a loud, cheerful atmosphere you'd usually expect from a party filled the room. Food Souls laughed and joked, sang, drank and danced; some of the younger Food Souls ran energetically around the room. Some others just sat and chatted the evening away. Everyone, even those who weren't always the most cheerful, seemed to enjoy themselves just fine. You couldn't help but smile at how nice it was to have everyone present on your birthday.

The sun had nearly set over the horizon and the party was slowly dying down. You decided that after clean up, you would get to the bottom of who was behind this pleasant surprise and thank them for their hard work. You spot Milk and Black Tea finishing up clearing tables and walk over to them.

"Hey guys," you say. Black Tea bows her head to you. "Greetings, Master Attendant." Milk smiles. "Good evening, Master Attendant. Did you have fun?" "Of course I did." You grin. "Say, I didn't think everyone would actually do anything like this for my birthday. Surely there must've been at least one or two Food Souls who planned this party in the first place... Could either of you tell me who it was?"

Black Tea's lips pressed into a thin line. "I must apologize, Master Attendant. The original organizer of your party specifically instructed us not to say anything."

You frown slightly, turning to Milk. But Milk just shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Master Attendant. I promised I wouldn't tell, either."

You sigh, defeated. "Could you at least give me a hint?"

The two hesitate before taking a moment to think.

"Ah, I know," Black Tea eventually says. "He's been with you for a very long time. Around the time you were new at being an attendant."

You frown. "When I was new? That could be anybody!" And it's been so long, I couldn't possibly remember who's been with me the longest. Milk and Black Tea give each other a look, and Milk adds, "He's also very polite and kind, and he tries his best for you everyday." Black Tea nods in agreement. "He's a certain... butler, of sorts." Your eyes widen at the realization. Hearing Black Tea and Milk talk so fondly of this person makes you feel bad for not figuring out who they were talking about right away.

"It's-!" You start, but a sudden voice cuts you off.

"Master Attendant?"

You turn around. Brownie is standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Speak of the devil, Black Tea thinks, smiling to herself. Milk picks up on Black Tea's reaction and giggles with a hand over her mouth.

Black Tea smirks, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Well, I think Milk and I shall retire for the night." The two ladies collect their remaining cleaning supplies, and they sneak a knowing look at you before swiftly exiting the room. Your face warms in slight annoyance for them suddenly leaving you alone with your birthday party's secret organizer.

The whole time, Brownie stood still at the door, remaining ignorant to the situation you were just in. He watches as Black Tea and Milk leave the two of you alone, then turns back to you with an eyebrow raised. The defeated look on your face prompts him not to ask you about it. Instead he says, "Did you enjoy yourself at the party?"

An amused smile appears on your lips. "It was as enjoyable as it could be, thanks to you as the planner."

"Ah." Brownie smiles bashfully. "You found me out."

You nod. "Did you really prepare this all for me?"

Brownie raises his brows, eyes widening slightly. "Oh, n-no no! Err, I mean yes, I... I may have done some planning. But it was Rice who told me when your birthday was." Brownie's eyes struggle to meet yours as he explains. "You never did tell me when your birthday was. Not exactly."

Last month, Brownie had asked about your date of birth out of curiosity. Somehow the topic came up in a conversation and you casually mentioned how your birthday was actually in the coming month. Because you didn't elaborate, Brownie decided not to ask you further. But, now knowing about your upcoming birthday, Brownie felt that he couldn't just sit around and do nothing.

"As your butler, I can do all manner of things," he says. "And..."

Brownie clears his throat.

"And... I wanted to make sure you were happy on your special day-"

You hug Brownie before he could finish. Brownie, who'd frozen in shock, slowly returns the hug.

"Thank you."

No words were needed to make your day a good one, never mind a whole party. Somehow Brownie already understood this, almost as if he could read your mind. Even so, the butler still felt a little guilty. You feel him shake his head, as you let go of him for a brief moment.

"Truth be told, Master Attendant, I haven't given you anything as a gift."

You gaped. "What are you talking about? Don't be modest, you organized a whole party for me!"

He shakes his head again. "That's different. The party was a group effort."

"But-" You start to protest, but Brownie knows you too well. Knowing you would protest, he sits you down on a nearby couch. Taking a seat alongside you, he effectively quiets you by taking your hands and squeezes them gently.

"I might not have anything prepared for you at this very moment, but whatever you wish is my command. It has always been my duty to serve and satisfy your every need. Today is no exception. So I ask you, Master Attendant, what would you like from me?"

The way he spoke so confidently all of a sudden caught you off-guard. If you were being honest, it flustered you a little. You paused to think about what you could possibly want right now, but nothing specific came to mind. A moment of silence goes by; Brownie sits still, waiting for your response. Finally, you say, "Okay, there might be something you can do for me."

Brownie, naturally eager to comply, gives you his full attention. "Yes?"

"Could you smile for me?"

Brownie, who is always prepared to fulfill your every wish, practically freezes. He blinks, stopping as if to thoroughly process what you'd just asked of him. He looks at you, blatant disbelief in his eyes.

"You... want me to smile?"

You nod.

"Well, if this is your command, then I'll just…"

Brownie takes a quick breath as if to prepare himself for an upcoming mission. Looking into your eyes, he musters up a close-mouthed yet endearing smile.

"You see, is this okay?"

You stare.

"Master Attendant?"

When you don't reply right away, Brownie's expression falters slightly and his eyes look off to the side, embarrassed by your intense gaze. His hands are still holding yours, so you're able to catch his fingers fidget. Vaguely aware of the smoothness of his gloves, it's only then do you register the warmth in his hands.

"...Master Attendant?" Brownie repeats, snapping you out of your daze. You blink. "Oh, s-sorry, Brownie. I didn't mean to stare, haha." Brownie shakes his head. "It's alright. I'm just, ah, not used to doing anything like that."

Brownie was always so proper, even stern at times. As much as others tried to tell him to relax a little, he never truly acted on it. So seeing him acting more laid back like this is sort of...

"You should smile more," you tell him. Brownie sat still, wide-eyed and flustered and at a loss for words. Eventually, he stutters out a reply, "I... I will try."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After the two of you made sure that the restaurant was nice and tidy for tomorrow, Brownie escorts you to your room. He waits for you to change into clothes more suited for sleeping and enters when you finish to tuck you into bed. You stifle a yawn. "Tired?" Brownie asks. You nod in response. "That surprise party took a lot out of me, hehe. I know I already said it before, but I can't help but thank you for doing this for me." The butler shakes his head.

Brownie had sat on the bed next to you, his posture upright and his gaze out the window. "I know you've had a difficult year," he says. "And I know how much pressure you put on yourself every day. You think you don't deserve things like this, and yet you continue to persist even when giving up sounds far more ideal. I can't help but feel conflicted when you say you aren't hardworking. I can see your strengths, and I know the other Food Souls do, too. It's... disheartening when you put yourself down." You can see him frown slightly as he talks. "You work so hard, I thought to make today feel like a reward for you. A day to really relax, destress and enjoy yourself." Brownie can feel your attention fixate on him; he continues with unexpected resolve, "You are more resilient than you realize, Master Attendant, and I wanted to make sure you didn't have to push yourself so much, at least for today." He pauses, taking some time to carefully think of what he wanted to say next.

"Now that you're turning a year older, I'm sure that that would take its toll on you, too, in one way or another." Brownie's gaze shifts to you. He takes your hands in his, just as he did in the restaurant, and slightly rubs his thumbs on the back of your hands. It felt... nice. Your face warms.

"I wanted to make sure that you truly were content on your special day. That you really, truly felt cared for and appreciated."

Brownie wasn't normally this talkative. At least, you didn't think so. You knew how much he tried to fulfill his duties as your butler, but you couldn't help but wonder if words of affirmation were included in his job description.

Was he always capable of giving you such strong praise?

You feel tears well up in your eyes. Brownie notices and wipes the tears away before you could. He gives you a soft smile, comforting you with a gentle embrace since he knows you enjoy hugs. He rubs your back, and you awkwardly laugh in his arms. He really did know you better than anyone else.

Brownie catches you staring a little too hard at his face again and closes his eyes, visibly embarrassed. "M... Master Attendant, you're staring again..."

You laugh as you cover your face into his chest. You couldn't help it. You rarely see him smile like that.

"Thank you, Brownie. I couldn't have asked for a better birthday."

#nqt writing #food fantasy #ff milk #ff black tea #ff brownie #ff master attendant #birthday #comfort on your birthday #self indulgent

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ciaossu-imagines · 1 year

Note

If you're feeling it, Day 5 prompts but for your favorite personal OC/self-insert? :)

Okay, but please excuse me everyone for taking a break from the actual writing I’m trying to do to answer this (the ideas are so there, but it’s tweaking them into proper words)! I promise I will have fic/requests being posted soon (hopefully quite a bit put up tomorrow and Wednesday– just as a head’s up, I’m not going to be on the blog at all Thursday and Friday because I have some real life stuff that needs to be taken care of, but will be back hopefully on Saturday to resume my regular writing and answering messages and PLEASE KEEP SENDING IN ALL THE REQUESTS because they are the best part of my day and I get so excited with each new one sent in and there is no such thing as spamming me with asks or asking too much). But like, I never actually spend too much time talking about my own OC’s or the writing I do just for me because this blog is focused more on ya’ll, and I love that, but it’s also kind of exciting to dive into this topic. I didn’t quite use a prompt and just fucking rambled and hope that’s still okay! Because this will be a hella long post, I’m going to use a read more, especially since this definitely will not interest everyone! For those who do read it…I’m kind of curious on who will pick up on what and who will pop in to my ask box or messages or replies to lovingly call me out!! I look forward to it, actually!

Okay, so I’m going to set the stage here because this is a little convoluted and complicated because the one I imagine the most, the one I drabble for the most and daydream about and have the most fun with is an absolutely gigantic crossover/AU!

There’s a land called The Ever Young, where all the characters from all my fandoms reside. The Ever Young is broken, stuck with time permanently stopped and nobody new can be born and death has no hold. It’s separated into different warring factions between and within the different claimed lands or regions, with each fandom kind of being its own region. Every region blames the others for the magic on the land and each believes that, by winning control and eradicating or subjugating the others, they can force time to restart. Also, with it being an obviously magical world, there are different fantasy species, and everyone has some sort of magical ability, though, with the world the way it is, the abilities don’t work right. There are kickbacks to using them…they cost you your life-force, your ‘youness’ and when you use up all the power you have, you’re gone. Your body remains, but it’s for all extents and purposes just a shell and nobody knows quite what happens to the people’s minds and souls.

There’s a Record-Keeper for each land, one canon character from each fandom, who not only keeps the record of the life of these different regions but have some precognitive abilities that they can use to try to forewarn their own regions of coming events. They’re identified by the pocket-watches they all woke up one day with. Each pocket watch has a crystal heart in it that gives the holder their abilities and all the Record-Keepers do occasionally meet up and are the only true neutral parties in The Ever Young.

On top of all this going on…there’s a legend, a story that by now everyone is convinced is just a fairy tale for children, of The Thirteen. The legend states that The Ever Young was first created by a witch of great power who could create something from nothing, who could bring life and prosperity as well as death and darkness, all in perfect harmony. And at one point, The Ever Young flourished and all was peaceful and idyllic. But then sorrow came…it’s said that something caused the Witch such great sorrow that her heart literally broke, shattered into thirteen shards that flew far and wide across the land she’d cherished so deeply and that she retreated far from the world, never to be seen again. To get back to the days of peace and happiness, these shards must be found by those to whom they call, The Thirteen Heroes who have the power to set the universe right again and heal the Witch’s heart and mind. Only then, the legend says, will time start to flow, and life begin to start anew.

So, obviously, aside from the wide, wide variety of canon characters, it’s obvious my OC’s, not all of whom I have, are the Thirteen, plus one oddball so I’ll start going into them now that the scene is all set.

First up, there’s Tea! Branded ‘The Shadow Warrior’, beautiful and fierce, this woman has a fearsome reputation. Often seen with The Kokuyo Gang, her name is whispered along. Powerful, strong, but also just and kind, Tea is also fair, never hurting those who don’t deserve it or who leave her no choice. She’s someone you want at your back; a trustworthy companion and just as fierce in friendship and love as she is on the battlefield. Her natural ability is that of being able to transform herself into a shadow, able to remain unseen and seemingly disappear and reappear at will. However, she also finds the seventh shard, resembling a smooth piece of turquoise glass in the shape of a serpent that she wears as an amulet. This shard not only makes her one of the legendary Thirteen, but gives her an additional ability, where she can control others through the force of her voice, at the cost of losing her voice for a full sunset afterward. My personal face-claim for her is Teresa from Claymore, if anyone is curious.

Next up is Mari! Most often seen beside the Cavallone family’s boss, she comes across as alluring, mysterious and quiet, but this woman is incredibly sweet, kind and has a huge heart. She wants nothing more than a quiet life, with those she loves safe and sound, but with war raging around her, it’s not quite that easy. But she works for it, quietly slipping through the different regions, playing diplomat and trying to foster peace wherever she can. Once you know her, she has this incredibly fun, playful side and her smile disarms all but the most hard-hearted. Her natural powers help her in her diplomatic missions, as she has the ability to judge others true natures and desires correctly. However, she also finds the sixth shard, a smooth piece of green glass in the shape of a heart, which she fashioned into a hair barrette that she wears, which gives her the power to manipulate the emotions of those around her, at the cost of leaving her feeling hollow, lazy, and pessimistic until the next sunrise. My personal faceclaim for her, if anyone is wondering, is Chiyuki from Death Parade!

Next up is Marta! A dreamer, she sees all the potential in what the world could be. Sweet, kind, and encouraging, with eyes you get lost in and a face as expressive as her boss's is neutral, she’s fiercely loyal to those she loves and cares about and the sort of friend that keeps everyone happy and together. With her tireless creativity and curiousity, she seeks to create a better world and works alongside Hibari’s group to explore all the secrets of The Ever Young, slipping quietly in and out of the various regions, accompanied either by Hibari himself or Kusakabe, trying to find ways to leave the world a better place for her family and friends. Though she prefers not to be in the midst of battle, she’s more than able to hold her own, with the help of her magical paints and paintbrush, which she can use to imbue life into anything she paints temporarily – at least long enough to allow her or others to escape risky situations. The holder of the ninth shard, a violet piece of glass in the shape of a bird, which she wears as a brooch, she also has the ability to heal others, at the cost of having to feel all the pain of the injuries herself. For those curious, the face claim I have for her is Michiko Malandro.

Up next is Dell! A charming rogue blessed with the gift of shapeshifting, they breeze in and out of the regions, trying to prevent out and outright war from breaking out wherever they can, working with god only knows who (and they prefer it that way, thank you very much). Though their silver tongue and fearlessness may leave you with the impression of a trickster or someone only out for themselves, Dell is actually ride or die for those they care about. They take care of those that matter to them and everything they do is to ensure the safety of their loved ones. However, very few are lucky enough to see that soft, sweet side of theirs, often getting either that charisma and fake niceness or the sharp tongue that Dell possesses. Another thing they possess? The second shard, a red piece of smooth glass in the shape of a house, that allows them the ability to manipulate nature itself, at the cost of the use of their limbs until the sun sets next. For those curious, I picture Akito Sohma for Dell!

Then there’s Amber! The very definition of big-titty goblin girlfriend, Amber has a huge personality and, while she can be a (very bitey) handful, she’s friendly and charming and makes friends wherever she goes. Often found with Hiruma, who is holding secrets of his own, Amber is social, sarcastic, and the life of the party. But all that charm and charisma? It’s the sweet front to the spice and steel she hides from most people. With her own moral compass, she’s a force of chaotic good aiming to end the war in The Ever Young, viva revolution style, come hell or high water. A living lie detector, she’s also the holder of the fourth shard, an smooth orange piece of glass that she wears as a pendant, that allows her to make herself absolutely irresistible to anyone she touches, to the point that the person would abandon all reason and do anything to make her happy. However, she can’t just turn it off at will and the person remains obsessive, at times murderously so, until they see the moon.

Next up is Nina! Don’t let the cute face and tiny size fool you…not only is this girl unafraid of a battlefield, but she actually finds them exhilarating! Blessed with super strength, her heart is always in the right place, whether it be squishing a friend in a hug that might make a few bones pop or throwing a tree at someone threatening the piece of her region, she lives honestly and does her best to keep things safe, both for those she loves and all those friends she hasn’t met yet. Disarmingly sweet, sincere, and small, she is another renowned warrior who simply wants to be fighting only for fun, instead of to prevent outright war from disrupting lives. She found the first shard, a smooth piece of black glass in the shape of a square that she wears as a tie clip, which gives her the ability to freeze time temporarily, with the drawback of erasing her memories of everything that happens during that time. For anyone curious, the face claim in my head for her is Azusa Nakano!

Then there’s Brooklyn! She’s almost always found with the boys of HOMRA, where her water manipulation powers can cool the hotter heads around her. Though quiet and often overshadowed by the louder, brasher personalities around her, she’s friendly, smart, and cute, the quintessential good girl to the bad guy. But when you get to know her, she’s got street smarts and a surprisingly naughty side to her that keeps you guessing. And, though the idea of war terrifies her, because she can’t stand the thought of another of HOMRA’s boys just never coming home again, she is more than capable of defending her found family, with a temper that is slow to ignite but deadly when needed. The holder of the third shard, a smooth piece of light pink glass that literally gives her the powers of Cupid at the result of losing the memories of one of her loved ones, she’s bound and determined to bring about that peace that her family deserves, no matter what. For those interested, I see her face claim as Lenalee Lee!

Moving on to Lou, a reformed pickpocket who now runs an orphanage on the border of the regions between those with the K Project characters and those with the KHR characters. Changeable….literally, given that their natural ability makes them change between male and female from night to day, they’re a bit of a trickster but one with a huge heart and a desire to keep any children from a dark past like the one they had to go through. To protect the children of The Ever Young, they’re more than willing to stand on the battlefield. I’m still kind of getting this OC down, as they’re a relatively new one, but they’re the holder of the fifth shard, a smooth yellow piece of glass that they carry in their pocket and which gives them the ability to make someone psychically live through their worst nightmare, at the cost of them going temporarily blind until the code-word is said…though don’t they wish they knew what that code word was. For those interested, it's the Kagamine twins (Vocaloids) that I picture as face claims!

Then there’s Whisper! A mute, selectively so, who wanders throughout the regions. Rumors say that she can get you anything you want though and her ability to slip through the cracks and remain unnoticed because of her disability means she deals in the all too dangerous area of information brokerage. Always moving under the cover of darkness, Whisper (who looks like Taiga Aisaka to me) manages to stay one step ahead of a past that she’s trying desperately to escape from. She doesn’t care much for the war, or what happens – she’s trying to get through each day and find a safe place to land, which isn’t easy when you’re literally seeing inside people’s minds whenever you touch them. She finds the eighth shard, a smooth indigo piece of glass shaped like a person, which heightens her own psychic abilities to include telekinesis and telepathy, but at the cost of her health deteriorating.

Last and least, the one OC who stands in a class of their own, wandering in and out of everyone’s stories in the background, yet always appearing where she needs to be, when she needs to be. An amnesiac who calls herself simply Mirror, she exists outside the factions, with ties to no one. She fears people a little and is terribly shy and socially awkward, until it comes time to explain the things she knows….and oh, the things she knows. While who she is remains a complete mystery, even to herself, she sees all – all that was, all that is, and all that could be, fragments of multiple possible ever-shifting universes that hold her at their whims and mercies as she frantically tries to stop every worst case scenario from happening.

#long ass post #way too long #ranting about my au's and oc's #now to smoke #make coffee #and write fic #I seriously loved this ask though

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sinigangsta-ao3 · 1 year

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Happy Monday 💕

Here’s what’s on my mind lately…

On the personal front:

I’ve been sitting a lot with internally differentiating between spending intentional time to hone my craft and separating my concept of self-value from productivity. I know that those two things are separate and should be, but I’ve been candidly ✨going through it✨ lately, so I’m slowly but surely easing back into writing — hopefully with a stronger internal separation between what I create and how my art equates to who I am/what I’m worth.

I recently learned about the cocoon stage of healing from Nicole DePera, aka the Holistic Psychologist. And even without knowing the terminology, I realized that I was doing exactly this! It’s very much a stage of returning to oneself and prioritizing one’s emotional health — and that’s definitely what I’ve been doing over the past few weeks. Lots of reading. Lots of napping. Lots of quality time with my kids and my family and my friends. Lots of reevaluating what’s important to me, what I want to hold onto, what I want to let go of.

On fic writing:

My husband has been sharing some snippets/learnings from Rick Rubin’s “The Creative Act: A Way of Being.” I’ll be reading the whole thing soon (probably after I finish reading this novel I’m devouring), but the concept of The Artist as the Experimenter vs The Artist as the Finisher (screenshots below) is really sticking with me. It’s very obvious that I fall into the Experimenter camp: I am never not without ideas. But I am prepared to step back into the intentional space of writing as a craft, and I’m committing to finishing some things soon.

On that note: I’ve had a breakthrough with my post-canon arumika fic so that is going to be finished and posted this week!

Also on that note: Just did a csm rewatch and the akimeno brainrot is REAL. It helps/doesn’t help that my husband is also firmly on the “Aki & Himeno were work colleagues who totally fucked on the regular” side — I sense a fic or two percolating… (See? Ideas galore.)

Finally, I’m going to Anime Expo with my sister this weekend! It’s my first trip in a while without my husband and kids, so I’m very excited to just spend some time with my sister and myself. And also to tap into my inner child for a weekend full of play…

Wishing everyone a lovely week 😘

#nina-bean writing #personal post #mental health #fic writing

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inkofamethyst · 2 years

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October 31, 2022

Course registration today was a bit of a mess, actually, but thankfully I think everything might turn out to be okay. There aren’t any restrictions listed for the education class I wanted to take next sem, but when I went to add it, the system told me that I had to be a education major to take it. So I email the instructor to plead my case, not expecting much bc she’s a grad student, and sullenly pick a greek art class as an alternate to fill the space. The instructor gets back to me in an hour with permission, and I think I should be able to get in. It’s a lower-level course, but the seats are already going pretty quick, so hopefully the registrar acts fast to lift to block.

I am having a wee bit of an anxious episode at the moment, but it was partly brought on by the frustration of feeling, once again, like an emotional punching bag. Not in the way that I’m being emotionally abused or anything, but, like, in high school I used to have a friend who had a lot of issues at home and she’d turn to me (and also to my dnd-friend) almost exclusively with her problems and it was really draining, honestly. I had to stop putting effort into that relationship because it felt so one-sided. And, frankly, she’s part of the reason that I don’t go to people with my problems. That people only hear about my problems after I’ve solved them or cannot conceive of a way to solve them myself and have already cried over it (and in those cases I go to my parents).

Anyway saxophone-guy (-friend?) saxophone-friend (the “guy” suffix will be saved for potential, uh, suitors) has been doing that to me since I met him and it’s become even more pronounced this semester now that we’re “just friends” because he never ever comes to me when he’s happy about something. I spent hours on a birthday present for him and the first thing he says to me when we next see each other in-person is how bad his day has been (he did thank me for the gift over text last week (also I’d like to be perfectly clear: this was not a gift given with the intent to win him back, as that ship has certainly sailed, it was a gift given with the intent to stop him from always being so down in the dumps over his voice (because any time he felt self-conscious about it, guess who he’d text and guess who’d have to use the same lines over and over again to comfort the guy (I don’t expect people to be perfect, and I understand we’ve all got our hangups, but he’s got a whole therapist)))). I just... people who start nearly every conversation with the intent of spilling their problems irk me. And he had the gall to say today that he doesn’t like going to people with his problems because he hates bringing down their day. HM. It seems as though the self-awareness doesn’t stretch as far as he thinks it does.

It’s not my intention to disparage people. I’m just terribly high-strung at the moment. Second round of midterms, a month until my applications are due, regular assignments on top of that, trying to prepare for my future...

I don’t want to come off like a fair-weather friend. Truly, I don’t. But the guy needs a journal. Maybe not an internet one, that seems like a pretty dumb idea tbh.

So that’s frustrating, and then I’ve got an exam tomorrow [edit, next day: it was just okay, I think the short answers were fine, but the matching was awful (who cares about Haldane’s rule so much that it shows up on two questions??)] and a draft of a paper due and two discussion boards to do because I’m behind and emails to send and two more exams this week and I’m already feeling awful. This Friday can’t come soon enough. And then I’m going to a concert (orchestra lol) this weekend, and a movie next week, and an opera two weekends from now... ah. Just gotta get through this hell of a week.

Today I’m thankful that... I’m thankful for GMM’s Vote Like a Beast web service. It was so useful and so much easier to build my ballot relatively painlessly compared to consulting a newspaper and endless maps. Midterm elections are so important, but the local-ness of it all can for sure be more overwhelming and confusing than the big national elections. And as a college student it would be so easy to just be Too Busy To Vote, but I’m glad I did.

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ch-cali · 2 years

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12/20/2022: Start of my personal diary

So basically this is my personal diary for my life from here on out. It's 12/20/2022 and I just finished moving back in with my parents with my daughter. I separated from my partner, which is a whole other story. This is hopefully going to be a sort of documentation about my progress with myself from here on out. I struggle with bipolar disorder and anxiety. I have been pretty well as of lately especially regarding my situation. I struggle with my self image and weight. I am currently in the 160's and plan to start taking better care of myself. I am not a majority single mom. When I brought up to my partner about how we're going to split out time he literally said "I never wanted this in the first place" and so I asked in regards to her? abortion? while literally holding my over 1 year old in my arms with my partner furious at me. At us. He said yeah and I said very angrily to please go away I don't want to talk to him bc how are you going to bring this up with her right here? And he went on saying "am I not allowed to have feelings? Only you are allowed to say your feelings? Well this is how I really feel. Why can't I say how I really feel?" And on and on about that and I literally had to get away. ASAP. He literally admitted that his mother is more scared of losing her than he is. I am just heartbroken and don't really trust him alone with her any more for other reasons even before this argument. Not physically abusive or anything just very neglectful to the both of us most of the time. I am so happy that less than a week after that I was out and I just finished finally unpacking everything (I think) and I'm settled in but don't quite feel comfortable. I miss how things were and I cry most night causing a skin inflammation and issue under my eyes making me look absolutely horrible. My room has none of my old decorations as I left my old room and my decor to my little sister as soon as I moved. I'm going to have to go to the dollar tree and think of putting something together to make my room feel more cozy.

I miss a lot about my life the last year but I realize I still look at the very few fond memories but push down 90% of the other stuff I went through, My partner was my first love and I really thought nothing would ever be able to make me not love him. But after out altercation- after saying that to me about the most important thing in my world I think of him as the most disgusting piece of scum on the earth pos. He's done a lot to me before but something about becoming and mother and hearing him speak on our daughter like that... I will never ever forgive him.

To work on myself I need to start on my regular health- eating right sleeping schedules and such. I need to find another job- I got fired for not being able to keep up with the work load. I wasn't willing to do so much over time all the time. Oh well- I hated that job and it took me away from my daughter because it was always over 43 ours a week which isn't so much but she's only awake so lone- I get a total of 2-3 hours a day with her fully and only an hour bonding with her over fun things- the rest is the eating cleaning and bed time routine unfortunately. I want to find something with a little less hours if possible- decent hourly wage- I probably won't ever make the amount I did as my last job working from home but hopefully something decent and full benefits so I can get her back on my insurance. Since I lost my job I had to ask her dad to add her until I get mine and I really just don't want to rely on him in any way. My social skills going out having fun. reaching out to people I haven't yet since I started dealing with all of this just out of embarrassment. My friends reached out asking me how I was doing and had no idea what was going on- I gave them a quick "no everything isn't alright but it will be soon" when they asked. I appreciate them for asking

Basically I wanna be better and feel better about myself and here is my start.

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sunflowerthiefsunny · 2 years

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I have never been happier to wake up in excruciating pain. I thought I was having a depression episode but turns out it's just a pain flare, which sucks so bad but is so much more manageable for me right now.

#i will hopefully be back to my regular happy self soon #it was concerning #because i was in a really good mood but beyond mentally/physically exhausted #but there was no pain for like the first 3 days #every muscle hurts but im still so happy #things have been going so well lately #being depressed would have surely fucked it all up #op #chronic pain #chronic illness #fibromyalgia #i havent been in this much pain in so long though #i forgot just how bad my pain flares can get

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rubynationwins · 2 years

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What’s In A Name?

Soft! Ransom Drysdale x PlusSize! Reader

Summary: You finally tell Ransom how much you hate the nickname he gave you.

Main Masterlist

Word Count: 1,617

Warnings: angst, a touch of heat/dirty thoughts, fluff, self-deprecation/body issues, manhandling, swearing, intimidation, mentions of past fight, mentions of past sexual harassment & fat shaming

A/N: This was just supposed to be a drabble but I guess 2 am me was feeling ambitious (and sleep deprived). This one’s a bit more funky, fun, & cute. Trust me though, the next fic w/ this man is gonna be anything but😈 Like, comment, reblog, I always appreciate feedback so plz let me know what u think!

This story should not be posted anywhere else without my express permission.

Thanks for reading!

-Ruby

It was about fifteen minutes until closing time and you were helping a man at the counter pick out candies for his daughter. He had told you he wanted to reward her for how hard she’d been working at school so when he saw your shop he had to pop in to grab some sweets. His story had warmed your heart and you were happily wrapping up his choices in a cute little box, finally able to relax after such a tedious day. Unfortunately, all that was ruined when Ransom busted through the door.

“Hey, sugarplum!” Ransom greeted as he sauntered up to the counter like he owned the place. You ignored his dramatic entrance as you rang up the proud father at the register.

Ransom eyed the man warily, noticing how he peaked down your blouse when you leaned forward to hand him the box of sweets. Ransom’s jaw tightened and he glared daggers into the back of the asshole’s head as he walked out the door. As soon as the bell chimed when the door shut, he started in on the prying questions.

“He a regular?” Ransom nodded his head towards the exit.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no, first timer. Hopefully, he will be though,” you stated blandly as you began counting up the money in the register.

“Why do you say that, sugarplum? Did you think he was cute?” His voice had a teasing lilt to it, but his eyes zeroed in on you. He analyzed your posture and movements, trying to find any hint that you were interested in that douche.

You rolled your eyes and got back to adding up the day’s earnings. You didn’t have time for Ransom’s needling remarks today. It had already been a stressful enough day without him piling on.

Ransom didn’t take your brush off personally. After years of kinda-friendship, he didn’t take your rolling eyes and silent treatment to heart. In fact, it was fun getting on your nerves sometimes. If he was honest, as long as he got your attention, it was a success in his eyes. All he really wanted was your time, was that too much to ask? And the fact that your luscious curves and cold shoulder set his insides aflame had only a tiny bit to do with it.

“Come on, sugarplum, you know I’m just teasing. We both know you’ll never find anyone half as good as me.” He puffed up his chest, a smug smirk playing on his lips.

You scoffed, “Wouldn’t you like to think so, Ransom? You know, our conversations are always pretty one-sided. For all you know, I’m in a happy relationship and living a blessed life without your annoying presence constantly popping up out of nowhere.”

Ransom didn’t laugh at that. The lazy smile he always sported dropped. He wiped his chin and glanced at the floor as he tried to hide his inner jealousy. He knew you were joking, but your words struck a cord. He moved to the end of the counter and lifted up the divider.

“Ransom, you know you’re not allowed back here, especially without a hairnet,” you chided, finally pulling your focus away from taking inventory. When you looked up and saw his unamused expression, you faltered. It wasn’t often he stared at you like that.

“You got some secret lover I don’t know about, sugarplum?”

Your eye twitched at the irritating nickname. He’d started calling you that when you opened your shop. You didn’t miss the not-so-subtle dig at your rounded figure. It irked you even more coming from a man who looked like a Greek god. He acted like one too-rakish, spoiled, and full of himself.

His pace as he edged towards you was slow and casual, but there was something in the way he purposefully placed every step and the tick in his jaw that warned you to be on high alert.

That was another thing he had in common with mythological gods-he was volatile. No, he’d never hurt you, other than with irritating comments and thinly veiled mean nicknames, but never physically. You’d seen his anger spiral out of control at other people, though. At a club once, some drunk frat dude squeezed your ass and asked for a blow-job and when you told him to fuck off he called you an ungrateful fat bitch. Ransom went mental. When he was finished, the frat guy’s face looked like a swollen, bruised balloon.

Even after that, it took a few days for the angry tension to leave his body. Soon enough, though, he was right as rain and back to his blithe, fuck the rest of the world self. It scared you at times, how quickly he could swing from carefree impudence to hot-tempered rage. He’d never given the slightest indication that he would flip on you, though.

Maybe today was the day, though, with the way his eyes burned under the bright, hanging lights.

As he stalked forward, you put on a placating smile, choosing not to back down to his mock intimidation tactics. You were calling his bluff. “And what if I did? That doesn’t mean I’d have to tell you. You’re not involved in my personal affairs, Ransom.”

His hand slapped down on the hard marble counter at your side and he loomed over you. You were now somewhat regretting the antagonistic route you had taken.

“Very funny, sugarplum. But we both know that’s a lie.” He reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “There’s not the slightest chance in hell,” he whispered as he caressed your round cheek with his smooth thumb. His lack of callouses showed that he’d never worked a day in his life.

Now you were pissed. Who was he to be so cocky about your dating life? It made you even angrier that he was right and that for him, the opposite was true. Ransom had women lining up out the door, waiting for him to give them an ounce of attention.

You slapped away his hand. Instead of rising to his assholish comments, you pushed past him. Or, at least, you tried to. The space behind the counter was narrow and it didn’t help that Ransom didn’t turn to make your exit easier. You shimmied around him in the tight space, your body, unfortunately, pressing up against his.

He caught your shoulder, not letting you move past him. He shifted his body to face yours and peered down at your narrowed eyes. “What’s wrong, sugarplum?”

That was it.

“Don’t fucking call me that, Ransom!” You yanked out of his grasp and stormed off. You marched to the front door and swung it open, the bell rattling as you did. “I’m closing up shop. Time for you to leave. Now.”

Ransom followed your pathway but didn’t take a step past the threshold. Instead, he grabbed the side of the shiny door and swung it back shut. You stepped back at the sudden whirlwind, but he caught your wrist before you could get very far.

He flipped the lock and pulled you into his arms, wrapping them around your soft waist as he stared down at you. He would never get tired of holding you. It had been too long of just looking without touching, he was savoring the opportunity.

He titled his head. You could see in his bemused expression that he wasn’t taking your anger seriously. “Why’re you so upset all of a sudden? It’s just a little teasing, nothing different than our normal banter, sugar-”

You cut him off, “-I said not to call me that. I hate your stupid degrading nicknames. It’s not funny.”

Ransom’s brow furrowed, “What the fuck are you talking about? How have I possibly offended you beyond the normal amount? You’re used to me being a dick. It’s part of my charm.”

You glared at his smarmy, perfectly symmetrical face. “It’s not about that. You know exactly what I’m talking about. You think that I don’t see your little inside joke? Sugarplum? Yeah, call the fat chick something round and sickly sweet. It’s bullshit and you know it.”

Ransom scoffed, he had the nerve to fucking scoff at your accusation. “Are you seriously that stupid? You know me well enough to know that I don’t sugarcoat my words. If I wanted to insult you, I’d go right ahead and do it.”

That did nothing to absolve your resentment. “Then what’s with that fucking name, Ransom?”

It took him a moment to respond. He glanced at the floor, looking almost bashful. Was that a blush you saw on his cheeks? “Because I thought it was an adorable name that fit an adorable confectioner. No matter how much of an attitude you throw at me, I know that deep down you’re a little softie. It made sense in my head. Still does. Not to mention, they’re delicious- sweet and plump- ripe for the picking” At that, his eyes bore into you with an intense heat.

You tried to swallow but all the moisture had suddenly left your mouth. This new territory was too strange, too unfamiliar. “Uh-um… Well. I’m glad we cleared that up then.” You squirmed awkwardly under his piercing blue gaze and gave him a tight-lipped smile, “So you can actually leave now.” You attempted to step back, but he held you still.

“I still don’t think you believe me.” He squeezed your waist and you let out a little squeak that made him grin. “Guess I’m just gonna have to show you how much I meant what I said” He leaned down so that your foreheads touched. “I’m gonna gobble you up, sugarplum.”

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x plus size reader #soft!ransom drysdale #soft ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x plus-size!reader #soft!ransom drysdale x reader #soft!ransom drysdale x plus size reader #plus size reader #Chris Evans #chris evans x plus size reader #chris evans character fanfic #Knives Out #ransom knives out

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ghost-with-a-teacup · 2 years

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Hello! Can I request Alcina HCs with an S/O who is a ghoul (like the ones on Tokyo Ghoul?). I think they would really get along well considering their shared love for human blood and flesh. Thank you!

𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐃𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐮 𝐱 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

Author’s Notes: Hi!! This is the first time I’ve ever written a list of headcanons here on Tumblr, haha. Normally I write longer fics, but I’ll give this my best shot. I definitely had to read up on ghouls because it’s been ages since I’ve seen Tokyo Ghoul, but hopefully, this is what you were looking for anon. Thank you for requesting! Happy reading, my lovelies~

When you first came to the castle Alcina and the girls were definitely very curious about you. They’ve never met a ghoul before, but it was interesting because your lifestyle was so similar to their own. Needing to be sustained by human flesh and all. It was almost...refreshing to them. It helped them feel a little less alone in a world so cold and a village so small.

It was definitely amusing to Alcina how strong you were, even despite your size. With her it was almost a given with being 9’6 and all, her strength was proportionate to that. But here you come waltzing in, multiple times stronger than any human but still just as small. She definitely teased you about that a lot.

But matching strength with her also meant Alcina never had to cough hold back in certain situations because you could keep up easily. Take that as you will.

Like her tossing you onto the bed? Well, guess what, you could do the same right back at her!

That doesn’t stop her from picking you up though, makes for easier access to your lips if you’re at her height after all.

Morning tea was absolutely mandatory each day, Alcina with her wine and you with your coffee. It was the quiet before the chaos as you could call it, just a time for easy conversation and tender touches with each other before the events of the rest of the day.

Hunting together was another thing that was an absolute must. I mean, what could possibly be more badass than hunting for fresh human flesh together with your lover?

She finds it so hot when you’re just going around kicking ass, definitely gets her hot under the collar ;D (you can bet you won’t be leaving the bedroom anytime soon once you get back)

She definitely still worries about you though, even if she knows you can take care of yourself just fine. She just loves you so much, y’know?

You also hunt with the girls a lot too, family bonding am I, right?

Kisses with bloodstained lips? I THINK YES. Alcina would most definitely come up to you as you fed, leaning down and pulling you in by the waist before licking the blood off of your lips, then kissing you so deeply it made your head spin.

Definitely a power trip walking through the village together, I mean you both were intimidating on your own but together?? Yeah no one is coming within 10 feet of y’all.

Even despite the power that came with being a ghoul for you, it was still difficult some days. At times you missed being able to eat regular food or you missed not having to worry about your strength, lest you break another delicate teacup between your fingertips. It also made you sad that you couldn’t try Alcina’s infamous wine without feeling nauseous at the mere scent. But Alcina never failed to reassure you that you were perfect as you are. That this was simply a different stage of your life. You lived a human life already, and now it was time to live your ghoul one.

Similarly, Alcina also felt self-conscious sometimes as well. Once upon a time, she was a noble lady who was able to go to parties, perform at jazz clubs, and live life as a normal human. And now, with the cadou she stood at an impossible height, hungered for flesh and had the thirst for blood. On days like this, you would simply hold her close, pulling her head to your chest as you listened to her thoughts. Reassuring her that she too was perfect, as she had done for you so many times before.

At the end of the day you both love each other unconditionally, that is without a doubt.

#lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu headcanons #ghouls #lesbian #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #resident evil village #resident evil imagines #resident evil 8 #resident evil alcina #women #alcina x maiden #resident evil 8 x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady alcina dimitrescu

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dumbikawa · 3 years

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Being Stressed About Exams & HQ Boys Comforting You

GN!Reader | Comfort/Fluff | Warnings: stressed reader

Characters: Atsumu, Oikawa

A/n: This is extremely self-indulgent as school has been kicking my butt and the future post-graduation is very terrifying lol

ATSUMU

You stare at the computer in front of you, the text you’re supposed to read for class beginning to swim together as your eyes fill with tears. Everything is happening too fast and you feel completely unprepared to take any of it on. What if you spent all of this time and money on schooling only to fail so close to the end? What if you finally do finish, but then can’t find a job in your field? Should you have studied something else? The questions become more exhausting and constant the closer it gets to exams.

Small droplets roll off your cheeks and begin to pool on your keyboard. You haphazardly wipe them away before powering off the computer and tucking it back in your bag. Out of sight, out of mind, you figure. It’s not like there’s any use in trying to finish it tonight when you can already feel another wave of stress induced tears coming on. Those have also become a regular thing.

You click the volume button on your phone so that the sounds of music fill the room before leaning back in the desk chair, testing the limits of how far you can recline before gravity takes over. Atsumu had made this study playlist for you when he first noticed how stressed you were. It contained a mixture of your favorite songs, his favorite songs, and a few ‘motivational’ songs he pulled from his work-out playlists. It was a bit of a weird Frankenstein mash up with the large variety of genres, but it quickly became one of your studying must haves.

Over the sound of the music, you couldn’t hear the shower click off and the door to the bathroom swinging open. When Atsumu steps out, he sees you sitting where he’d left you, although, in a more dangerous position than you’d been in before as he notices the way the desk char teeters back and forth. His attention is quickly caught by the music choice, though, recognizing one of the songs playing as a favorite of his he added to the playlist he made for you a couple weeks ago. A smile breaks through his face as he hurriedly jumps into a pair of sweatpants before approaching your quiet figure.

As he comes up behind you, though, he notices a slight glisten upon your cheeks and a few fresh tears that tumble from your closed eyes. His upturned lips quickly sink as worry floods through him. Exams had been taking a toll on you, it wasn’t hard to tell, but he would never get used to seeing you cry.

“Baby,” he whispers, gently wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “What can I do for ya? Food? Cuddles? Cry it out?” You nod, resting the chair back on the ground and practically launching yourself into his arms.

Atsumu catches you with ease, his strong arms holding you against his chest. His hand rubs up and down your spine, sending shivers racing down you back, but there's no ulterior motive to his gentle touches. He continues the soft touches as he guides you to the bed, only letting you go for a second before allowing you to bury yourself in his side again.

“What if I can’t do it?” you whisper, trailing your fingers across Atsumu's toned chest. “I’ve studied for so long, but what if it doesn’t work out? What if--What if I don’t actually know anything and I crash and burn and--”

Atsumu shushes you gently, placing a few comforting kisses to your forehead. He notices your breathing beginning to grow heavier as your anxiety takes over. There's a few moments of silence as you try to match your breathing to his, the two of you taking slow, deep breaths in sync.

“The future might be unsure and stressful, but I know you’re going to do your best and make it work. All you can do is continue to work towards your goals and handle everything as it comes. Not to mention, I’m always going to be here to remind you of how strong you are even if you don’t see it.”

A new wave of tears begins as his words echo through your ears. You bury your face in his chest as your arms wrap around his waist in an attempt to pull yourself as close to him as you physically can be. Somehow he knew exactly what you needed to hear and a part of you wonders if he’s ever repeated those sentiments to himself when things felt unsure.

He continues to whisper reassurances as you fully relax against him, your tears finally beginning to dry up. You lift your head and offer him a weak smile.

“Thanks for letting me cry on your abs,” you sniffle, allowing yourself to truly laugh.

Atsumu feels lighter as he watches you smile and joke, hopefully being able to forget about the more stressful parts of life for a while as he holds you close. There’s been countless times where you eased his worries about the future, so he’s just happy that he can return the favor and create a safe space where you’re allowed to simply be.

OIKAWA

The cup in your hand is warm and comforting as you trudge towards your bedroom, a sense of dread washing over you as soon as your eyes land upon the laptop you left sitting open on the bed. With finals coming up, you thought it would be a good idea to transfer the notes you had written down during lectures onto your computer, figuring it would make them easier to access and that the process of going back through the information would be a good way to ensure you remember the material.

What you didn’t realize, however, is how absolutely time consuming and exhausting it was going to be. Your neck hurts from constantly looking back and forth between the paper and computer screen, your back hurts because somewhere along the way you abandoned any semblance of healthy posture and decided to go full cave gremlin in the way you hunched over your work, and instead of absorbing the information for a second time it seemed as if your brain had completely abandoned you and gone on autopilot. Shoving the computer off the bed and taking a nap feels like the best course of action right now, but you know if you stop now there’s no way you’re going to want to finish later.

Begrudgingly, you settle back onto the bed and take a large swig of coffee before stretching your fingers and placing them back on the keyboard. It couldn’t take that much longer right? All you have to do is push through and get it done.

And, for the next few hours, that’s what you do. You jump back in where you left off and race through the next few, gruelingly long chapters. The daylight outside quickly dwindles away until you’re forced to turn on the bedside lamp when you realize the sun has sunk far below the horizon and is beginning to cast bizarre shadows around the room. It was no bother, though, because you’re so close to being done. The issue is that neither your brain nor your body could keep up anymore.

Your fingers keep hitting the wrong keys, typing made up words that have you constantly backspacing and starting sentences over again for a third of even a fourth time. The breaking point comes when you go to take a sip of your now cold coffee and look back at the screen after attempting to type an entire paragraph from your notes in one go. Little did you know your finger placement was off, yet again, and the entire paragraph is an unreadable mess that even spell check doesn’t want to touch.

The tears that sting your eyes make you feel stupid. It was entirely too dumb to cry over something as superficial as misspellings that could be easily fixed and cold coffee. But once the tears start they won’t stop. Suddenly, you’re not crying over the notes or even school work in general. You’re crying about the crushing weight of change that's soon to come once you finish with classes and how impossible everything has begun to feel.

You’re too exhausted to focus on anything anymore, letting the hot tears run down your cheeks freely, which is why you don’t hear the rushed footsteps of your boyfriend who could hear your hiccuping breaths from down the hall.

He doesn’t say anything when he sees you curled up on the bed, your face buried in your arms. Oikawa sits on the ground closest to you and lays his head near yours as he begins to run his slender fingers through your hair. It doesn't take a psychic to tell you've been stressed with the quickly approaching exams, and from the collection of notes littered all around to the half closed computer the dots practically connect themselves.

The slight dip on the bed near your head alerts you to his presence, but you don't move. His hands guiding themselves over your scalp is quick to relax your body, but your mind feels like it's about to burst any moment as the thoughts continue to race.

“You’re doing so good,” he whispers against your temple, planting soft kisses after every word, “and you deserve to take a break. Remember when you used to have to tell me that all the time?" The feeling of his quiet laughter against your skin makes you smile, along with the memories of simpler times before either of you had barely begun to grasp how harsh the world could be.

"I picked up dinner for us, it was an apology for coming home late," he admits, kissing the top of your head. "But let's go heat it up and you can either tell me everything you're worried about or we can try to forget all about it for now and watch a movie. I'd really like it if you talked about it eventually, though. I know I'm not going to be able to fix it all, but that doesn't mean I can't try."

You turn your head to the side, exposing your tear stained cheeks that are quickly wiped away by Oikawa's calloused thumbs.

"I will," you say, voice heavy. "For now could you just hold me?" There isn't a second of hesitation as Oikawa slips his arms beneath your figure and presses you tightly against him.

"Movie it is," he announces, laying you on the couch with the remotes so that you could put on whatever you want. Your brain would never stop the constant anxious thoughts, but losing yourself in those chocolate brown eyes made it easy to imagine a future where it all works out somehow. Little do you know, Oikawa sees the same thing reflected in your eyes as he wonders about the right time, perhaps a couple years from now when you've both settled down in your careers, when he can finally buy that ring he's been looking at.

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interact-if · 3 years

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Taking the spotlight for Day 6... Lucirene!

Lucirene, author of An Angel’s Song

Latino Heritage Month Featured Author

In the forest of Bres an otherworldly sickness corrodes the soil and changes the creatures within. “A parting gift from the fallen angels” say the citizens of the Hyaku Region and the mark on your hand confirms it.

Though the scent travelling in the air is sweet and enticing everyone knows better than to get closer. But the mark, it pulses, it burns, the pain spreading as fast as the corruption of the forest does.

Your masters are calling, and it seems like this time you cannot escape them.

An Angel’s Song Demo | Author’s Ko-fi | Author’s Patreon | Read more [here]

Tags: dark fantasy, romance

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

Q1: So, tell us a little bit about the projects you’re working on!

I have so many, but the only one public is An Angel’s Song. It’s, more than anything, a story about grief, loneliness and overcoming it all while navigating a hostile environment and discovering long lost secrets about the Divine and about the MC’s country. That one is very cathartic for me to make because of the themes, I feel like I’m working through a lot of feelings I didn’t even realize I had by writing it.

The next one is also an IF and it focuses on comedy, adventure and character interaction. It’s supposed to be more lighthearted, more fun, but knowing me… I don’t know if it’ll stay that way. Basically, it goes: A Captain’s boat falls prey to the storms and the strange creatures living under the sea, and they and their crew end up washing ashore an icy, snowy country. I already have the main cast written down and they have so much synergy, it’s amazing.

And the last one I’ll talk about (a traditional novel) actually happens in the same setting as my second IF, but many, many years before, when their local deity/guardian was born. It’s more of a romance-fantasy than anything, a love story between a Goddess and a half-dragon, however it also showcases many of the situations the people had to navigate and face before their country could become the place you’ll see in my second IF.

Q2: What excites you most about using interactive fiction? What are some of the biggest challenges?

What I like most definitely is how much freedom we have as authors. Of course, one is constrained by one’s ability to code but I think, for the most part, we can do so many things, reach an entirely new level of immersion that would not be possible with a regular novel. It’s amazing how sometimes I’m reading something and get so into it, feel so connected to the MC I feel dread when they do, panic when they have to make a choice that will clearly impact a lot of people in their world. With IF you can really feel like you’re part of the story.

Another thing I like is being able to explore other paths with my writing. Like for example, what if the MC had done this instead of that? How would that have affected their relationships, their world state? Writing branches is a lot of work, especially because they could change so many things, but it feels oddly satisfying when you do decide to include them.

Challenges… Coding, mainly. I feel like a lot of new aspiring IF authors are a bit afraid of coding and I can understand that, especially since, had it not been for the help of the community, I would have taken way longer to actually start using Twine. Hopefully with time for resources come up and it becomes less daunting.

I don’t know if any other author feels the same way but, though I think branching is a blessing, it is also a curse. I can only write the same conversation so many times, I mean I know I’m writing it in different tones and sometimes with different results but it gets frustrating after a while because it feels like you’re stuck, like you’re not progressing at all.

Another one would definitely be finding a balance between reader interaction and just following your vision. Since it’s IF at times I feel like I have to meet a quota of branches or ways in which you can react, sometimes I also find it difficult to make the MC feel like a real person instead of a reader-insert. I’m working on that.

Q3: What has been something in your project you’ve had to do a weird amount of research for?

That’s a difficult one… I don’t know if I would consider it weird but I do tend to investigate a lot about fashion, especially when designing the main outfits of the characters. I spend hours trying to find out what colors were used back then, what they meant, who was allowed to use them. I have this little image with some palettes for kimonos depending on the season.

I also spend too much time coming up with names, especially for places. Like I look up names of places that already exist, what they mean, I try to investigate if the words that I want to use make sense, then I panic because I can’t find anything, but I think that’s usual for writers. I also spent more time than necessary researching for the name of a tree that you will see way later in the book, which no one will probably notice what the name of the tree means or what it symbolizes but it makes me happy.

Honestly, I feel like the amount of research I have had to do has not been particularly weird? If anything at times I think I should research more, even if some aspects of Japanese culture will not apply to Kyou.

Q4: Which of your characters is most like you? How?

The initial version of the MC from An Angel’s Song, which I miss dearly since they had more personality. They were autistic coded too, and I hope some traces of that still remain. Apart from that I feel like all of the characters from the main cast share something with me, even if their experiences are, of course, more dramatic than my own.

A lot of them have issues with a paternal figure or an absent mother, which also resonates with me. Some of Saori’s traits draw inspiration from ways in which I talked or acted before I became a little better at masking, before I became more self-aware. Hazuki being emotional and caring, K being a bit clingy but devoted, Masa having a temper yet loyal, Miwa being friendly but reluctant to open up beyond surface level information. I think those things describe me.

There’s also Rei but I don’t think I’m writing her book anytime soon. She’s someone that’s very family oriented, she’s a bit temperamental but she means well and she’s not afraid to speak her mind. Now that I think about it, maybe Rei is more the person I want to become.

Q5: Does your heritage influence your characters as you create them? (How? Why or why not?)

I’ve been living in Venezuela my whole life so I think so, even if most of the time I don’t even notice it. I believe that this happens especially in regards to relationships because people in Venezuela are very family oriented and also, from what I’ve experienced, they form strong bonds with their neighbors, which creates this strong sense of community —sometimes it goes well, sometimes it doesn’t, but my mom and her friends always make at least some friends in their neighborhoods and they gossip with some coffee about the happenings of the rest—. So when it comes to writing a character it is very important to me to make an emphasis on family relationships because those are a strong part of my culture, of my identity.

In An Angel’s Song you have the main cast having issues or conflicting emotions about one or multiple members of their family, which influence their behavior and their outlook on life, but for the most part they are (or will be) able to form similar relationships with people that are not related to them, or to work towards restoring that relationship, transforming it into something healthier.

In my other books family dynamics are also immensely important. For example, I’m going to mention Rei again because I love her. So, Rei has a sister named Rin, and they are both very close, even if they haven’t spent much time together. Their bond and trust in each other helps them overcome a lot of obstacles and they rely on each other when they need support or encouragement. Rei also has other people that she thinks of as siblings, and restoring that relationship with them is one of her main goals. There’s also this recurring guilt she feels at leaving her birth family and her home to explore, because to her, families are supposed to stay together.

Another aspect that I think influences my writing is religion, even if I wasn’t raised in a particularly religious household nor do I belong to any religion. Religion is a big deal in this country, we have so many events and holidays relating to religious figures. I remember when I was very young I loved going to one of the churches here because the Virgin of that town had a building filled with pretty clothes to dress her with.

So, in that vein, I try to think about the character’s relationship with religion, do they believe in the Gods? Do they trust them? Do they follow local deities or prefer the main pantheon? How does this religion shape the way people interact with each other and the world? In regards to characters that are Venezuelan or Venezuelan-coded… I do have a few that are Venezuelan, but I don’t think I’m going to be releasing their stories soon, so I’ll keep it quiet for now.

Q6: What is something you love to see in interactive fiction?

People being passionate about their work! This isn’t something exclusive to IF, but it is something that I love seeing. I also like seeing the different ways people innovate within the genre. I feel like sometimes, especially with newer writers, there is this idea that an IF has to subscribe to a specific format and that’s simply not true. If you don’t want to use a stat system you don’t have to, if you want to add combat then go ahead, if you would prefer to write an MC that’s already pretty pre-established (which is something that I personally want to try) then there’s nothing stopping you and I encourage you to give it a go. IF is very versatile and it’s wrong to try and fit authors into a box, especially if they want to bring something new into our little corner of the internet.

Q7: Any advice to give?

In general, I advise people to have fun writing, to not worry so much about how good it is, about if people will like it. Writing, at the end of the day, ends up being a pretty solitary activity and having those thoughts in your head too long will make you spiral. Be kind to yourself, be open to feedback when it comes (and learn to distinguish constructive feedback from destructive feedback) and enjoy the exploration of your world and characters.

You are not alone in all of this. If you can, join a group of writers you can talk with, exchange ideas, get feedback from or just exchange memes (the ultimate bonding experience). Don’t be afraid, you’re not alone.

#if: events #latino heritage month #latino authors #interactive fiction #cyoa #choose your own adventure #choose your story

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perditaalottachocolate-blog · 3 years

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Under My Umbrella

Summary: Mr Pigeon 72 and how it should have ended if fandom had a saying in it. An alternate ending to the Adrinette final scene. Contains spoilers and fluff, you have been warned.

For @floweryotter, a gift in my celebratory giveaway.

********

Adrien’s day had started bad and it only got worse from there. So far the only peaceful moment was when he got turned into a pigeon. Blissful time, when he was unaware not only of himself, but also of allergies, extracurriculars and modelling. When he was free from ridiculous advertising ideas. He almost felt sorry, when the Miraculous Cure swept over his bird form, turning him back to his regular, slightly underdressed self.

Rain drummed heavily on the swimming pool’s roof, while he changed into his clothes and gathered the now half-empty duffel bag. Plagg claimed he needed the extra load for all his heroic deeds of the day. Camembert was possibly the only thing in the universe that got him to shut up about it.

Adrien shuddered and braced himself for the rest of his afternoon, which he suspected wouldn’t be any different than his morning. He stepped outside and promptly forgot about everything that was waiting for him later.

Because there, in the middle of the rain, stood his good friend Marinette under a familiar umbrella. Strange warmth bloomed in his chest.

‘Wow,’ he drew a breath full of humidity and some subtle, yet familiar smell, he couldn’t quite identify, ‘you’ve kept it all this time!’

A thunder rolled over the street. Marinette froze. For a second Adrien was afraid that maybe there’d been another akuma attack and his friend had fallen victim to an unknown villain.

‘Marinette?’ He called hesitantly.

She turned, smiling. The signature word salad spilled from her lips, but Adrien was used to it by now. He actually found it quite endearing. Politely, he waited for her to stumble her way through anything she had to say, until she arrived at a comprehensible sentence.

‘Now I can give it back to you!’ she finally said, offering the umbrella to him.

Both the gesture and the sentiment somehow made her even more adorable.

‘You’ll need it to get home,’ Adrien replied. At that his car pulled over and an idea came to him. ‘Or maybe… we can give you a lift?’ he asked hopefully.

Marinette smiled at him and nodded. Did she… just agree? Just like that? Without another word stumble or an excuse to leave? He had no idea why, but her calm approval made him inexplicably happy.

She moved to his side and linked their arms together, shielding him with the umbrella. The brush of her skin sent goosebumps all over his forearm. His heartbeat quickened.

Whoosh! The canopy closed over them, squishing them even closer together. The laughter they shared at that was delicious, like a secret, a reference only the two of them would get out of the entire world.

Adrien opened the umbrella, smiling at his friend.

‘Hmmm, since we already have a good umbrella, maybe we could put it to better use,’ she said. ‘Maybe we could take a walk home? What do you think?’

He liked having her so near and he wouldn’t mind for it to last longer. Especially when she seemed so comfortable and open. He realized how much he missed spending time with her. He was never bored with Marinette.

‘I… ‘ he started, when sudden movement caught his eye. His bodyguard opened the car door, urging him to go inside. Adrien’s smile faded. ‘My Chinese class,’ he remembered. ‘You know, how my dad is. I need to be there.’ He sighed. ‘But I’ll see you at school!’ He added, not to end on such a depressing note.

‘Of course. Till tomorrow, Adrien,’ Marinette smiled reassuringly and he knew she understood.

In two leaps he was at the car door, but he wanted to catch one last look of her before getting inside, so he turned.

Thump.

The back of his head hit the side of the car.

‘Ouch,’ he winced.

Marinette chuckled and he was happy to chuckle with her. His lips stretched into a wide smile. Her laughter already soothed the pain in his skull. He was about to close the door when she called after him.

‘Adrien, wait!’

He looked at her questioningly.

Marinette bit her lip. ‘How far is it to your lessons?’ She asked. ‘Maybe we can walk there?’

Oh sweet Plagg. Yes, please.

Adrien turned his best pleading eyes to the Gorilla. ‘See you after Chinese lessons?’ he mewled.

His bodyguard rolled his eyes, but he nodded with a grunt and turned to the steering wheel.

‘Thank you,’ the boy whispered as he basically floated outside, lifted by the joyous anticipation.

‘Mademoiselle?’ he offered Marinette an elbow in invitation.

‘Monsieur,’ she stepped next to him, linking her hand through his arm. ‘Shall we?’

And then they set into one of the most exciting walks of Adrien’s life. Some people would say it was a mundane stroll in murky weather, but it was far from it.

Almost instantly the two of them hit a comfortable rhythm, allowing them to walk without bumping into each other. Adrien offered to carry the umbrella for them, so that Marinette could rest her hand, as it snuggly lay in the crook of his arm.

They talked about everything and nothing, shared gossip about the upcoming patch for the Ultra Mecha Strike II they were excited about. Marinette kept Adrien from getting cold. Just her presence warmed him inside. In return he kept her from stomping into puddles and getting her feet all wet.

At one particularly large puddle, edging on a street lake, Adrien just lifted her off the ground and leaped over the water, with his friend easily tucked in his arms, princess style. The move felt so familiar, so right, it made him stumble in his step. But Marinette didn’t notice, she chuckled lightly under her breath. Adrien was stricken by the trust she had in him. The feeling filled him with delight and stayed with him, even when he deposited the girl safe and dry on the other side of the great water.

It all ended too soon. Suddenly Adrien wished his Chinese tutor lived much, much further from the pool, alas their time was up. Marinette bid him goodbye. Her smile, her rosy cheeks and bright eyes were the best send off he could imagine.

After that the afternoon went in a blur. Evening came and brought more rain with it. Adrien sat at his huge windows, a wide grin on his face, while he gazed outside, reminiscing upon the unexpectedly pleasant afternoon walk he had. For a second he even considered transforming and running over the roofs to the bakery to see Marinette again. The thought sobbered him up. Ladybug would have his hide, if he did it.

And then he froze, hit with yet another realization. He hadn’t thought of Ladybug even one time in the entire afternoon. He gasped. Did it even mean something?

But he never learned it, because he decided to text Marinette the funniest meme he saw earlier. He didn’t hear Plagg’s snicker from the duffel bag and even if he had, he wouldn’t know the meaning of it either.

#ml spoilers #mr pigeon 72 #adrinette #alternate ending #umbrella scene #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ml fanfic #perdita writes #for floweryotter

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volleyball-dontknowher · 3 years

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Sick - Tanaka x reader

Warnings: none

Words: 2282

Summary: You and your neighbor walk your dogs at the same everyday, but what happens when he stops showing up

A/n :! I am so so so so sorry for disappearing off the face of the earth, college is hard man and then it’s partially online and COVID and things and the depression really hit and I have started a new self care book and it is adding one thing back in my life at a time that I am passionate about and last week was French and this week it is writing because I really do miss it! I threw this together last night based off of a request I got forever ago and I hope it is liked <3

You’ve lived in the same apartment for years and people always come and go, in and out, it feels like you see a new face everyday. In your three years there, you’ve only had one consistent fact, and that’s your bald neighbor who goes on walks with his dogs at the same time as you twice a day. At first you only saw him occasionally and now the two of you go out at 7:30 am and 6:30 pm on the dot. You have no idea how it started but now you get kinda excited to run into your neighbor on the stairs everyday and hopefully make a comment about how good his two big dogs are looking or even jsut the smallest acknowledgement with him.

Speaking of your neighbor, he wasn’t out this morning before work, and you didn’t think too much of it because he works kinda funny hours and some random days misses the times. (Though he always tells you about it in the afternoon or the next time you see him) and because you’ve learned he’s a personal trainer he has finicky clients and sometimes is up wayy too early or way too late. It bugged you all day that you hadn’t seen him and no matter how hard you tried to focus at work you couldn’t imagine why he wasn’t out on a Wednesday. All of your explainations could make sense but you really don’t feel right about any of it. And when you got home and took your two babies out and he wasn’t there you were sure something was up. Tanaka loved his dogs more than anything and says that their routine keeps them together and that it keeps them well behaved. Something had to be wrong. Maybe he got a new girlfriend? Or he forgot? But he didn't forget and he hasn’t been with anyone ever, and if he was his dogs would still come first. You had no idea what you were thinking but when you came back up the stairs you kept walking and knocked on the door of the man you knew so completely and not at all. You quickly realized what you’d done and your heart was racing as you silent prayed that no one was home and that you could creep back to your door before anyone heard you.

This was a great thought, except you forgot what happens when you knock with dogs. They bark. And unfortunately for you Tanaka doesn’t get a lot of guests so his dogs barked a lot. Like they could wake the entire neighborhood a lot. You had to grin and bear it and face the consequences of your irrational actions.

After thirty or so seconds the door creeps open and there he is, Takana Ryuunosuke, in his pajamas and a beanie opening the door. He looked like a walking corpse and by the way he sniffed out a weak “hello” as he opened the door told you everything you needed to know. He was sick. Very sick, and you had just knocked at the door and now have to figure out what to say to him.

“Oh, hey,” you stutter, “I was just checking on you to see if everything was alright, you weren’t out with your dogs and I was wondering if anything was up, or if you needed me to take them out for you because of their routine and everything,” you ramble on, hoping that somewhere your logic connected and this made sense.

Takana stared at you blankly and you couldn’t help but mentally smack yourself because that was exactly what a stalker would say and you now seemed like his stalker.

After a few more seconds of blank stares his expression caught up to your words and he broke out the goofy smile you love so much.

“My dogs? Walk them?” He asked. Maybe they hadn’t caught up after all.

“Well yeah, they weren’t out at their regular time and i wanted to make sure they were still going out and I have my two out and they are so well behaved and you clearly don’t feel well so it would really be no problem,” you rambled on again.

This time he was closely listening and nodded along with you before smiling once again. “No no no,” he chuckled, “ I can take them out” though he was laughing you could hear that he wasn’t feeling well and his energy was lower than you had ever heard.

“Let me do this one favor for you, I can take them out, no big deal, okay?” You smiled.

After you smiled it was a done deal for Tanaka, he grabbed the leash and thanked you about a hundred times. His dogs are fantastic and took you less than five minutes to walk before they’d used the restroom and were ready to go back inside. You took them back and he thanked you once again and you headed back to your apartment to make some dinner.

You settled on a sun dried tomato soup with grilled cheese and happened *wink* accidentally *wink* make more than you could eat on your own and you’d hate for it to go to waste and you do have a neighbor who is sick and could probably use a hot meal right about now. So, you packed up a container for him and wrapped the sandwich in aluminum foil so that it would be hot for him and put some tea in a thermos and headed out your door once more. This time though, you were a little less bold and just rang the doorbell and ran back to your room. You did however, leave a little note saying “hope you feel better soon - room 420” on it and you hoped that it would at least help his night a little bit.

Little do you know, Tanaka was so shocked to see this from you that he almost dropped the hot soup onto himself in a panic because this not only meant you paid attention to him but you cared for him. This was the best thing to ever happen to him. He finished every last bite and washed the container and thermos and placed them back by your door with a note of his own.

When you got up the next morning and went to take your dog out you couldn’t help but beam when you saw your tupperware back in front of your door. You picked up the two items before seeing the little note on top of the container.

‘Best Soup Ever! -Room 419’

You beamed and did a little happy dance before deciding to go knock and see if he needed your help with his dogs again today, and boy are you lucky that you went. WHen he opened the door he somehow looked worse than yesterday, you could have swore that he had snot dried to his face and he was a total mouth breather and the bags under his eyes as well as tripled overnight. There were no arguments when you asked if he needed help with his dogs, because truthfully he really did.

The walk was quick and the morning was over before you knew it. Another distracted day at work, you found yourself wondering how you could help him feel better, especially because he lived all alone and his closest family was something like an hour away last he told you.

You had a brilliant idea and decided to go to the store after work and make him a ‘get well’ basket. You filled the basket with cough drops, tissues, teas, chocolates and other little goodies that help him feel better and put him in a better mood. You got the groceries and were right on your way, practically skipping with excitement.

Once again, you accidentally made an extra soup after you’d taken care of the dogs and happened to leave it with the basket later that evening.

In the morning however, none of your dishes were by your door, which was no big deal, especially because he was feeling so under the weather, but what was even more strange is that he didn’t answer the door and the last thing you wanted to do was wake him up. So, you headed to work wondering if he liked what you did for him or if you’d crossed a line or if he was allergic to chicken noodle, or if he was too much of a health nut and you’d offended him, or if he’d… you had no idea, maybe died. This was not good for you and you could feel the stress starting to get to you when you got off work the sprint back home was exhausting and anxious. You rounded the corner of the stairs when you saw

Nothing.

You saw nothing.

That was fine, everything is fine. You are fine. Life is fine. If he doesn’t feel good you can’t expect him to do dishes or even leave his room. That’s best for everyone, no one wants a walking germ contaminating everything around, there were probably old ladies on this floor, you hadn’t seen any, but they were there, probably, so he was just doing the world a favor.

Again, he didnt answer the door for his dogs and you couldn’t force your kindness onto him so you had a night to yourself and went to bed way earlier than usual. You couldn’t help but wake up earlier than usual and instead of looking for things that weren’t there you got out and went to work early and got busy right away. You had a full day and worked until almost 8pm, hurrying back to hopefully get home before your local take away had closed. You made it, but just barely, and got your favorite meal to bring home with you to watch something horrible with.

You got home and plopped on the couch completely exhausted. Immediatley you started eating and got about halfway through when you heard a knock at the door. Oh shit. You had no one in your life that would ever knock, well almost no one. THere was one person you were really hoping wasn’t on the other side of the door. You were in a t-shirt you got 10 years ago and a pair of crappy shorts from the general store, there was nothing remotely nice, or even tame about your appearance, you looked to be frank, crazy.

You creeped the door open and saw exactly who you were hoping not to see, Tanaka Ryuunosuke standing in front of your door beaming.

“Hey?” You question nervously.

“Hey, I noticed that you didn’t take your dogs out earlier and was wondering if you needed me to take them out for you?” He questioned genuinely, smiling from head to toe, clearly feeling better.

You had no idea what to say or do but he just smiled as your dogs trotted out the door with him, without you saying a word. You awkwardly closed the door and stood there in shock. That was horrible. An embarrassment to you, an embarrassment to your family name and even worse an embarrassment to society. The shock still hadn’t worn off when you heard a second knock at your door, and well that was the man with your dogs and you couldn’t just leave them outside.

This time when you opened the door you couldn’t help but gasp. Tanaka has a giant bouquet of red roses and a giant blush on his face.

“Y/n, I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but I have had a crush on you since I first met you, and I never knew how to tell you, every time I got close to you I just freeze and I started taking my dogs out when you do to try and get to know you and I could never make myself do it but you have been unbelievably kind to me and I can’t wait any longer. I want nothing more than to have a chance with someone as stunning as you are. Y/n, will you go on a date with me?”

This time it was you standing there dumbstruck for longer than you should have. You heard every single one of his words and your heart was fluttering out of your chest. You’d had feelings for him for as long as you can remember and here he was with a bouquet of flowers standing in your doorway asking you to go on a date with him. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything so you just grinned and nodded at him enthusiastically, hoping he understood just how much this means to you.

He beamed right back and handed you the bouquet of flowers, “perfect, then I’ll see you Friday at 7, I’ll pick you up.” He winked.

You were still dumbstruck and nodded again, and right as you were about to close the door for the night he stuck his foot in the doorway.

“One more thing y/n,” he pushed the door back open and had a basket of little goodies for you, as well as a homemade meal in the containers you’d given him with a little note that says ‘your soup warmed my soul, and my heart’. You couldn’t help but absolutely beam with happiness. You set the basket down and threw your arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a big hug, repeatedly thanking him for his kindness. You two parted ways happier than you could have imagined and both in great anticipation for Friday.

The next morning, you were both out at 7:30 on the dot, excited to see one another.

129 notes · View notes

nugnthopkns · 3 years

Text

dance me to the end of love (iv)

word count: 4.1k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, alcohol consumption

series masterpost: here

a/n: my apologies for the delay!! life got crazy for a bit but i'm back with my two favourite idiot intellectuals

Magdalene stays busy to keep the loneliness at bay.

All of her friends have left Denver, doing whatever it is that hockey players and their partners do in the off-season. She never expected them to stay to keep her company, and would certainly never ask. Besides, they were all so excited to go home and visit family. How could she disrupt their happiness just so she wouldn’t feel so alone? It isn’t her fault that Ryan, Bette, and company aren’t estranged from their families like she is. At twenty-five she should be a little more self sufficient than what she currently is, but Magdalene is working hard at being kinder to herself.

To combat the pervasive loneliness Magdalene spends a lot of time in the heart of downtown Denver. Under normal circumstances she would hate the crowds, but now they comfort her. The swaths of tourists walking the streets and approaching her to take family photos make her feel like a part of something bigger than the pity she finds herself wallowing in often. Barn Owl Books also becomes a frequent retreat when she has downtime, and the owners enjoy when she brings Caligula around. Other patrons adore the white cat and he loves the attention.

One day as she’s leaving work, once again offering to stay late so June doesn’t have to, Magdalene’s phone rings. She contemplates not picking it up, wanting nothing more than to curl into bed with the novel she picked up at Barn Owl the other day, but she knows it must be important. No one ever calls her around this time unless it’s absolutely necessary. Digging the phone out of her pocket, she sees the number of her building superintendent Paul flashing on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Miss Stevenson?” he asks, voice tinged with the toughness that comes with dealing with upset renters on a regular basis.

Magdalene chuckles at the formality, pointing out he hasn’t called her by her last name since she moved in five years ago. “Yeah Paul, it’s me. What’s up?”

There’s the crackle of static on the phone line as the man clears his throat. “So, uh, some bad news.” Magdalene’s stomach twists into an intricate knot. She knows she paid rent on time and can’t think of another reason he’d call her. “A sprinkler main on the floor above yours burst about an hour ago, and it’s pretty bad. Your place definitely got hit the hardest because it’s directly under where the pipe burst. You’re going to have to move out for at least two months while we gut the place and start from scratch. How quickly can you come and get the things that are salvageable from your apartment?”

“Fuck.” This is the worst news Magdalene has ever received. “I can be there in fifteen minutes,” she panics, “But Paul, you’ve gotta go inside and check on my cat. He’s going to be freaking out.”

Paul agrees to visit Caligula after some prodding, and Magdalene drives much faster than she ever has before through the neighbourhood. It’s far from reckless, but she knows that it isn’t the safest course of action. A police officer stops her about three minutes from her final destination but lets Magdalene go after she explains the situation as calmly as possible.

Other tenants affected by the flood are already moving boxes down the stairs when Magdalene pulls up. Everyone is understandably grief stricken, but she can’t find it in herself to console them like she would under normal circumstances. All Magdalene cares about is making sure Caligula is okay. She sprints up the four flights of stairs and doesn’t even break a sweat, adrenaline flooding her veins. Her apartment door is ajar, most likely from Paul entering a few minutes ago, and she flings it open with more force than probably needed. It swings back violently on its hinges and makes a spectacular crash when it hits the wall.

“Caligula?”

“He’s in the bathroom,” Paul sighs. “I can’t get him out of the tub but he’s still breathing. Is he not scared of water?”

Magdalene lets out a breath of relief she didn’t know she was holding in. She treads deeper into the apartment, casually assessing the damage, before reaching the room in question. There, pressed against the far corner of the tub, is the fluffy white cat that Magdalene’s heart beats for most days. Paul is there too, leaning against the sink and shaking his head.

“Thank you,” Magdalene says sincerely. “I’ve got it from here.”

The superintendent exits the unit with a solemn goodbye and heads to the lobby, no doubt going to direct traffic flow and answer questions. It takes a few minutes but Magdalene coaxes the cat out of the tub and into her arms. She holds him tightly and whispers words of praise, knowing it will help to calm them both down. After an uncounted amount of minutes Magdalene moves them into the bedroom, that looks surprisingly intact upon first glance, and changes out of her work clothes and into something more suitable for rummaging around her destroyed home. Caligula climbs up her body and settles gingerly into the hood on her sweatshirt. She starts in the bedroom, and finds that the only thing that’s actually salvageable is the clothes in her closet. Grabbing the suitcase from the top shelf, Magdalene shoves everything inside of it and wheels it into the living room.

She spends the next few hours going through every room in a meticulous manner, desperate to keep relics from her life in Denver. The water did a number on her space and destroyed almost everything. All the furniture is a write-off, and most of her books and records are ruined. Two things that withstood the damage are faux marble busts of Augustus and Marcus Aurelius, which Magdalene packs into one of the boxes Paul dropped off. Everything else fits in three other boxes and they’re tucked into the trunk of her car before the sun sets. Paul insists that the demolition company will get rid of everything else and ensures her she won’t have to pay rent while the construction is going on. It isn’t much of a consultation, considering that Magdalene has no idea where she’ll be staying, but she thanks him anyways as she makes the final trip to her car with Caligula.

Once inside, Magdalene breaks down. She has no idea what to do – no one is in Denver to help her out and she can’t afford to stay in a hotel for however many months this is going to take to fix. Tyson and Bette will be back in just over a month, but Magdalene doesn’t want to bother them or guilt them into coming back early. She cries in the driver’s seat of her car for a while, Caligula on her lap and doing his best to lick up the tears streaming down her cheeks. Not knowing what else to do, she dials Ryan’s number. Though they haven’t been talking as frequently due to the time difference and Magdalene’s insistence he enjoys his time with family, she knows he’ll pick up and listen intently. He’ll also hopefully talk her down from the imaginary ledge she’s found herself on.

He picks up on the second ring. “How’s my favourite girl?” Ryan asks, and Magdalene can hear the smile in his voice. The combination of his voice and the words spoken has her choking on another sob. “Hey, hey, breathe.” Concern is now the primary emotion expressed through the phone line. “Mags, what’s the matter?”

It takes her a few seconds and multiple pads of Caligula’s paws into her stomach for Magdalene to calm down, but she eventually tells Ryan what happened. He listens just as she thought he would, and keeps her breathing steady with his voice. She cries a bit more before running out of tears, but Ryan keeps her focussed on anything but the shitty circumstance she’s found herself victim to – detailing how he skated with Nate earlier in the day and just how many times his teammate kicked his ass. Hearing the mundane story helps more than Magdalene thought it would, and when Ryan asks her where she’s going to stay she responds with a relatively strong voice.

“I’m just going to sleep in my car.”

“Fuck no you aren’t.” The certainty in which Ryan utters the words takes Magdalene by surprise. For someone so far away, he has a lot of opinions on what she should be doing.

She sighs. “There isn’t another option Ry. I can’t afford a hotel for the months my apartment is going to be out of commission and there’s no point in renting another place.”

“Stay with me.”

A series of flabbergasted noises come out of Magdalene’s dropped jaw, but she can’t form any words. Ryan continues, “Think about Caligula. Being cramped in a car isn’t going to be good for him. Or for you. I have an extra bedroom you can call your own for as long as you need. Please Mags.”

Truthfully, it’s the best she’s going to get. Bette and Tyson offered to house a couple of rookies this season, meaning their spare rooms are filled, and there’s no one else she’s close enough with to think about asking. “I don’t want to intrude,” she sighs, but it isn’t a very convincing deflection.

“I want you there,” Ryan insists, “And little boots too.”

It takes them a while to work out the logistics, but Ryan makes a couple of calls and lets the doorman of his building know Magdalene is moving in. He also books a flight for the next day, and ensures her that he’s more than ready to come back to Colorado. They talk for a few more minutes, and in that time she gets directions to her temporary home. Once Ryan hangs up with well wishes and a see-you-soon, Magdalene looks in her rear-view mirror and sets out for a part of Denver she never thought she’d live in.

☼☼☼☼

When Magdalene calls Bette to fill her in on what’s been going on while on the way to pick Ryan up from the airport, the blonde is taken aback by the surplus of information. “Hold on,” she breathes, “Ryan’s coming back to Denver?”

“What part of ‘I’m on my way to the airport to pick up Ryan’ was confusing?” Magdalene laughs.

Her friend doesn’t find the jest funny. “Fuck off.” The comment only increases Magdalene’s laughter, but Bette forges on with the conversation. “Can you recap the events that led to Ryan leaving home nearly three weeks early?”

Magdalene indulges her friend, explaining for what feels like the hundredth time that her apartment was destroyed in a flood and that Ryan offered her his spare bedroom and that he was coming home so she wouldn’t be alone in the unfamiliar environment. Bette listens in silence, and Magdalene imagines she has a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. She’s made quite a few comments about how friendly the two of them seem, but Magdalene does her best to shrug them off. Ryan can just be her friend, a great one even, without Bette projecting her need to have her best friend to have an identical lifestyle to her. Even if she’s right, and Magdalene does want there to be something more between her and Ryan.

“Hold the phone.” Magdalene hears Tyson shout, no doubt getting closer to his girlfriend so he can join in on the conversation. “Gravy’s letting you stay at his place?”

“Yeah…” she trails off, unsure about what wasn’t clear this time.

Tyson hums as though he’s an old-school anthropologist who just made an astute observation about the group they’re studying. “Interesting.”

“How so?”

“Well for starters, he barely lets us hang out at his place,” Tyson explains. “I think I’ve been there maybe twice. So that’s new. Is Caligula staying with you?”

Magdalene is completely confused. “Why wouldn’t he be? He’s my cat.”

“How does Gravy feel about it?”

“What the fuck are you getting at Tys?” Magdalene asks, but there’s a bite to the question. She’s tired of the impromptu interrogation he’s providing. “Because Ryan was excited to have him around. Last night I sent him a video of little boots prancing around the condo like he owned the place and he thought it was hilarious.”

Bette, who had been silent for several minutes, gasps loudly. Tyson laughs, but Magdalene can tell it’s riddled with disbelief. “Mags,” he says gently, though with more than enough teasing laced in, “Gravy isn’t a big pet guy.”

The comment hits Magdalene like a tonne of bricks. What is she supposed to do with that information? There’s only ten more minutes until she gets to the airport, and she needs time to push Tyson’s comment to the back of her brain and collect herself. Magdalene gives a rushed farewell before hanging up the phone and checking her rearview mirror and blindspots. The radio filters back through the car speakers, but she doesn’t hear it, too caught up in what Ryan allowing Caligula to share his space means. There’s little traffic on the off-ramp and before she knows it Magdalene is pulling into a parking space and killing the engine.

She grabs the messily scribbled welcome home banner from the back seat before locking the doors and heading inside to the arrivals section. The inside of the airport looks similar to the empty parking lot – it’s a Tuesday after all. Only a few others wait with her for the plane, and many chat idly amongst themselves. Magdalene stays off to the side in an attempt to not get sucked into a conversation about the upcoming thunderstorm. Passengers slowly trickle through the open door, and Ryan is easy to spot. He towers above everyone and is carrying a rather large bag of hockey equipment. Magdalene smiles at the sight of him, unable to help herself. It’s been nearly a month and a half since she’s seen him and being apart for that long is something she never wants to do again.

“Hi,” she breathes as he approaches, waving awkwardly while she speaks. It’s as though she hasn’t spent countless hours talking with him about every possible topic her mind could dream up.

Ryan doesn’t feel the tension, or if he does he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he wraps her in a tight hug that lasts a touch longer than one with just a friend should, especially in public. Magdalene tries hard not to melt into his side but it’s nearly impossible – Ryan has a magnetic pull that tugs on her heartstrings and makes her insides feel fuzzy. Others bustling around the terminal start to give them strange looks, and it’s only then that Ryan clears his throat and untangles his arms from Magdalene’s waist.

He smiles down at the strong-willed brunette with kind eyes and shoulders his bag once more. “Let’s go home.”

☼☼☼☼

It takes a few days to settle into a routine, but once they do it’s glorious. Training camp doesn’t start for another three weeks, so Ryan spends his day doing light workouts and chilling with Caligula while Magdalene is at work. Once she gets home they make dinner and watch West Wing reruns on the cable network Ryan didn’t know he was even paying for. Their lives fit together seamlessly and it surprises Magdalene just how much she missed having a roommate – Bette moved out after their sophomore year of college, and it’s been just her and Caligula ever since. Though the personal space is nice, she likes being able to hear Ryan laugh at the meme she just sent or knocking on his door in the middle of night to ask if he wants ice cream.

Magdalene wakes up one Saturday to complete silence. It’s unsettling considering she hasn’t heard that since adopting her pet – Caligula sleeps next to her head and breathes loud enough that she’ll never have to buy a white noise machine. She notices her door is slightly ajar and hears soft noises coming from the living room. Ryan must be taking a day off, Magdalene notes, because he’s typically out of the house by seven and it’s currently five minutes past eight. She rolls out of bed and stumbles into the ensuite, brushing the tangles out of her hair and washing her face.

Not bothering to change out the pyjama pants and hoodie she stole from Ryan, Magdalene pads into the sunlit living room to see her roommate doing yoga. On a tiny mat beside him is Caligula, stretching his limbs like he’s following along with the tutorial. The sight is adorable, and before she can think twice about it Magdalene is snapping a photo of the two of them and posting it to her Instagram story.

“You trying to whip my cat into shape Graves?” Magdalene teases, weaving around them and plopping onto the couch, bringing her knees to her chin and holding in a yawn.

Ryan laughs, loud and care-free, and Magdalene wishes he could record the sound and play it on loop. “He kept trying to sit underneath me and I didn’t want to hurt him. I read somewhere that if you give a cat something similar to what you’re doing they’ll leave you alone. Guess it really works.”

Her heart constricts in the best way possible. Ryan continues to go above and beyond to make her and Caligula welcome and doesn’t seem to mind they’re the ones invading his space and not the other way around. There’s still twenty minutes left on the YouTube video he’s watching, so Magdalene pushes herself off the expensive leather sectional and into the kitchen. The least she could do is make breakfast. Deciding on pancakes, Magdalene gets to work prepping the batter and warming up the frying pan. She hums absentmindedly to the Joni Mitchell song playing on the small radio she placed in the kitchen window. Music always made cooking more enjoyable for her, and Ryan doesn’t seem to mind the device taking up space.

The island is set and the food ready by the time Ryan slides into his seat, small beads of sweat lingering on his forehead from the workout. Magdalene resists the urge to wipe them away and instead busies herself with placing the right amount of berries on his plate.

“Mags,” Ryan calls softly, pulling her out of her mind and back down to Earth. “That’s more than enough. Sit down and eat before it gets cold.”

They eat in silence until Caligula appears, meowing for whatever scraps he can get his hands on. Against Magdalene’s pleas Ryan feeds him a blueberry. The cat sniffs it inquisitively before swallowing it, though it comes up again a few moments later.

“You’re cleaning that one up bud,” she laughs, bending down to make sure Caligula is okay before rinsing her plate in the sink.

“Fuck.”

Ryan does as he’s told and helps Magdalene with the dishes before getting ready to head out for an unofficial team meeting. Camp starts in a few days and Gabe wants to get together and make sure they’re all on the same page before barreling head-first into the season. He promises to pick them up a late lunch of sandwiches from Barn Owl and Magdalene follows him to the door to say goodbye. It feels natural, like they’ve always shared this routine, and she knows that Ryan feels it too because he wraps her in a tight hug before petting Caligula one last time and slipping out the door.

Bette calls soon after he leaves and grills Magdalene on all the details of her new living arrangement. She’s still in Canada, spending a few more days there than Tyson to help his mom and sister finish unpacking their things at the house they recently purchased.

“So, have you kissed him yet?”

The question is asked in such a casual, Bette-like manner that Magdalene barely chokes on her water. “Bee, what the fuck?”

“Oh come off it Mags,” she sighs, “You like him. He likes you. The two of you live together now. It’s only a matter of time before the friendship turns into something more.”

The blonde is right about at least one thing – Magdalene has developed a steady crush on Ryan. She should have known being in such close proximity to him all the time would put her feelings into overdrive. However, she didn’t have another option other than to accept his offer when it was proposed nearly a month ago, so Magdalene is now being forced to deal with the repercussions.

“I have, in fact, not kissed Ryan,” Magdalene huffs. “But I’ve thought about it once or twice.”

A squeal tears from Bette’s throat and she forces her friend to share the details. Magdalene obliges mostly to get her off her back, but it does feel good to talk about it with someone. It’s a very long time since she’s had romantic feelings for anyone, and Magdalene is nearly giddy with excitement over the possibility of new-found love by the time Ryan gets home. She says farewell to Bette and promises to come over as soon as they're both in the same city again.

It’s later than both of them expected, so they decide to forgo lunch and instead cook an early dinner. Ryan wants chicken and Magdalene wants spaghetti, so naturally they compromise on a carbonara without the pork. The radio is cranked to the highest volume as they work, both singing along and in their own little worlds. Magdalene is in charge of cooking the pasta and Ryan sets about making the sauce, and more than once she catches him looking at her while he’s supposed to be stirring the mixture. She can’t be too mad, however, because each time their eyes meet she’s supposed to be doing her job too. Before too much time has passed the meal is ready. It cools on two plates while Caligula is fed and wine is poured – the former done by Magdalene because the cat still isn’t quite comfortable enough with Ryan. Once sitting, they raise their glasses in a silent toast and dig in. The pasta tastes heavenly, and Magdalene makes sure to say so.

“Oh my god this is delicious,” she nearly moans, “You have to make this like every night.”

Ryan laughs and raises his fingers in mock salute. “You got it boss.”

Conversation flows into how they spent their hours apart – Ryan gushing about how good it was to see his teammates again and Magdalene talking about how she caught up with Bette on the phone. She of course left out the part where she confessed feelings for her best friend to her other, more senior best friend. Dinner passes in the blink of an eye and soon the two of them are standing side by side at the sink, elbows knocking occasionally as they do the dishes.

“Want to watch a movie tonight?” Ryan asks nonchalantly. “You said earlier this week you wanted to see Clueless again.”

Magdalene smiles – of course he would remember this offhand comment she made a few days ago about the classic. “That sounds fantastic. Can you finish putting these away? I’m going to pop a couple blankets in the dryer to warm up and see if I can get a nice picture of the sunset for Bette, she mentioned on the phone that she’s missing it.”

“She literally hasn’t changed time zones!”

Laughter tumbles from Magdalene’s lips as she slips out of the kitchen. Two fluffy blankets are pulled from the back of the couch on her way down the hall and tossed into the machine. Grabbing the same sweater of Ryan’s she was wearing earlier in the day from the foot of her bed, Magdalene heads for the balcony door and slips through the glass.

The city is nearly silent. Cars pass under Ryan’s balcony like blips in the night, but they don’t dare touch the peaceful atmosphere radiating from Magdalene. She’s had one of the best nights of her life, just her and Ryan laughing over glasses of wine and the pasta dish they cooked together. It’s all so domestic and charged with stolen glances and soft smiles that Magdalene knows it’s more than two friends living together for a short period of time. There’s been a fundamental shift in their relationship but she doesn’t know how to address it, or if she even wants to despite her looming attraction. Being with Ryan is so easy that she forgets it’s only temporary. Realistically she knows it can’t last forever, but she finds herself hoping each day Paul will call and tell her the rebuild is taking longer than expected.

Ryan calls her inside, informing her the blankets are out of the dryer and the movie she picked out days ago is queued up on the television. Magdalene takes a deep breath and finishes her glass of wine in one gulp. Hopefully he won’t notice when she casually leans in and rests her head on his shoulder halfway through the film.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy @samsteel @lovethepreds @cutiesara23 @hockeyallthetime @stlbluesbrat21 @denis-scorianov @danglesnipecelly @c-tangerine @stormingroses @spine-buster (add yourself to the taglist!)

#ryan graves imagine #ryan graves x oc #ryan graves fic #colorado avalanche imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #cwrites #dmtteol

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spencers-dria · 4 years

Text

Lost at Sea

Single Dad Spencer x fem reader

Summary: This is kind of a little Christmas-adjacent fluff peice where Spencer is a single dad, completely clueless while Christmas shopping for his daughter. Reader sees him struggling and decides to help, completely unaware of where it will lead them. I imagined him sometime after the show ended, kinda with his somewhat longer curly hair and glasses. This story is completely fluff and I make no apologies.

Well, that was about the third loud huff from the man standing down the isle from me. This one was so loud it blew his hair around a bit, making it even messier. I try to focus on the task at hand, finding the perfect gift for my best friend’s little girl.

Diana was the closest thing I had to a daughter of my own. Despite Anne’s protesting, I took every opportunity to spoil her daughter rotten. The adorable and precocious little girl had me absolutely wrapped around her finger. I have to fight the urge to buy everything I thought would put a smile on her face, my favorite sight in the world.

But now, I was repeatedly distracted by the clearly frustrated man standing next to me, eyeing the girls toy section like it was an enigma. I decide to approach him, but he’s still to lost in his thoughts to notice.

I clear my throat while giving him a light tap on the shoulder.

“Can I help you with anything?”

“Oh I didn’t realized you worked here.”

“I don’t.” I smile sweetly at him. “You just look like you’re trying to solve the worlds most challenging puzzle over here.”

He meets my eyes with a sheepish smile, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. I try my best to ignore just how attractive this man is. He’s definitely not available.

“I guess in a way I am. I’m trying to buy a Christmas gift for my daughter. It’s safe to say that I know absolutely nothing about girls. I want it to be absolutely perfect, and I just know whatever I get won’t be half of what she deserves.”

“Well I can help with that. How old is she and what does she like?”

He pushes his glasses up his nose, giving me a moment to ogle just how attractive his hands are.

“Her name is Alice, she’s 5. I know she loves Disney princesses. Ariel is her favorite I think... but even once I narrow it down to that, there is still just so much. Who knew shopping for little girls could be so overwhelming.”

I can’t help but giggle a bit at his helplessness. He starts to laugh along with me.

“I’m Spencer by the way.” I see him hesitate a moment before slowly extending a hand. I look at his extended hand with a slight feeling of guilt, knowing he’ll most likely judge me based on my response.

“Oh I’m sorry I hope you don’t think I’m rude but... I don’t really shake hands. It’s not personal it’s just all the germs. I don’t deal so well with them.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, but I can’t imagine why. Is he actually laughing at me? Seems a bit rude.

“You know I used to be the exact same way. I suppose having a kid has changed me more than I realize sometimes.”

I nod, quietly, knowing I can’t really relate.

“I’m sorry you’re probably really busy. Are you shopping for your daughter too?”

Unsure as to the reason why, I’m suddenly embarrassed to admit that I’m not actually a parent. Just a single loner in their mid-thirties, living vicariously through their best friend and their.

“Oh no, just a friend. I’m more than happy to help you out with Alice. If you want my best ideas though, I’ve got to be honest, a lot of it is online. I can show you the links real quick, I’d you’d like?”

“I feel like this would be easier if we just... Would you like to grab coffee? I know a great place just around the corner. You can show me all your ideas and hopefully we can pick out something for her together.”

Up until this point I didn’t want to make assumptions, but it’s becoming more clear that Spencer is most likely a single dad. I don’t want pry, but I can’t help but wonder what happened to her mom.

I try to hide my excitement at his offer.

“You had me at coffee. And I almost forgot, I’m Y/N!”

————————————————

Three hours and several cups of coffee later, I knew a small part of the life story belonging to Spencer Reid. He was an FBI agent, part of a team who hunts down serial killers. A profiler. Or former profiler? He used to work in the field, until he had to raise his daughter alone. He had been fallen hard and fast for someone who left him as soon as another opportunity, or person rather, had presented themselves. They left him a single dad, all alone with his 2 year old daughter, Alice.

Being a single parent, he knew he couldn’t continue a job that put him in harms way on a regular basis. He never had a problem putting his life on the line for others, but Alice had become his number one priority, without question. Switching to a desk job had allowed him to continue as a consult for the team while also teaching at the University.

As I looked over his attire, I couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t quite give off professor vibes at first glance. His cozy maroon sweater and glasses, perhaps. But his curly mop of disheveled hair and goofy grin made him look more like a cuddly muppet character. The more I listen to him talk the more I notice his intelligence. I should have known, given his professions. It didn’t take long to realize he was well out of my league, but he was kind enough to give me the time of day for whatever reason.

I keep drowining in his eyes or getting pulled in by the movement of his hands as he speaks. Listening to his voice is like gently floating down like a river. I don’t even notice when he’s stopped talking.

“What about you?”

“Hmm?” I pull myself out of my daze, trying not to look as enchanted by him as I feel.

“Oh uhh, nothing to tell really.” I shrug, picking up my coffe, hoping he’ll change the subject while I sip on my caramel latte.

“I find that hard to believe. What do you do?”

“I just run a small cafe in town.”

I feel as though hearing about my life is about as interesting as watching water boil, but Spencer could have fooled me. He looks genuinely invested as I tell him about how I earned my bachelors and masters in business management, eventually opening up The Cottage. I didn’t have any experience in the food industry, but my friend Nicole had immediately been on board with the idea of coming on as my cook.

“It sounds wonderful. I’ll definitely have to stop by sometime.” He smiles at me before sipping on the last of his second cup of coffee.

“You’re welcome to bring Alice, only if you want to. And Nicole makes a killer risotto!”

“Of course! ...Oh! I knew we were forgetting something. Alice!”

“The entire reason you asked me here, just a minor detail.” I can’t help but snicker at our absent mindedness, how easy it was to be completely swept away in the tide that was Spencer Reid.

His face fades a bit, though I’m not sure why. He simply nods, folding his hands in his lap.

“Sorry if this is weird but umm... can I see a picture of her? It’s just, well, it might help me to get a better idea. You don’t have to, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Oh yeah!”He pulls out his wallet, unfolding a long strand of small photos, most of just his daughter, a few featuring him as well.

She was beautiful, brown eyed girl with soft, brown locks. She clearly had her fathers curly hair and soft, doe eyes. If it wasn’t obvious from the way he spoke about her, the pictures made it incredibly apparent that this girl was his whole world. Pure joy radiated from the photo of the two of them. I look up to to see the exact same look on his face, with a smile so big that his eyes crinkle.

That is the moment I knew he had me. I would follow this man anywhere, this adorable dad I had met on the toy isle only hours ago. The photos made it evident that she was just as crazy about him. It was almost too adorable for my heart to handle.

I take a deep breath before meeting his gaze, which is much closer now as we lean in over the table to look at the pictures.

“She’s beautiful.”

He looks down at the photos again with glassy eyes. “I know.”

He clears his throat and scoots back into his seat.

“So what did you have in mind?”

“Well, I have seen this online story that makes really pretty hand-made dresses that mimic the ones of each Disney Princess. Maybe a couple of her favorites? They also make knit blankets that look like mermaid tales. Or maybe a stuffed animal of one of her favorite characters? What little kid doesn’t like stuffed animals, right?”

Spencer nods along, absorbing all the suggestions I throw his way. After awhile, I help him settle on ordering a few we both like.

“I can’t wait to give these to her! She always loves Christmas morning. We open presents together and eat the cookies we made the night before while binging as many Christmas movies as possible.”

There was that smile again, the one he got when he talked about her. I wonder if she knows how lucky she is to have a dad that cares so much.

I can’t help but smile as well at the thought, which he quickly interrupted with “So what are your Christmas plans?”

I feel myself turning slightly red at the embarrassment of having to admit that I have none. Nothing much that is.

I shrug, hoping he won’t ask any more about it.

“Do you get to see your family?”

And there it was. The question I was desperately hoping to avoid. I know my inability to meet his gaze and consistent pulling at my fingers would be a dead give away of my uncertainty about speaking on the subject. I search for the best way to answer without seeming like I’m overcome with self pity. To be fair, I wasn’t. I didn’t mind spending the holidays alone. Not anymore. I had grown comfortable with the silence and comfort that comes from living alone.

The soft crackling of the fire, a fuzzy blanket, and a warm cup of hot chocolate had become my closest companions of each winter season. I spent many evenings curled up by the window, watching the snow dust the city as soft music flowed through my drafty, top floor apartment. Sometimes I’d dance and twirl around in my pajamas and socks, slipping and sliding on the wood floors. So yes, it was safe to say I truly enjoyed the time I spent getting to know myself.

“I uh, they’re not really around anymore. I was adopted by my parents when I was still a baby. They didn’t have any family but each other and then, well, me. I lost them to a car crash a few years back.”

I can tell he’s listening, but the one thing I always expect to see isn’t there. Pity. Instead I see kindness and understanding, and my heart welcomes it fully.

“Nicole is on vacation with her family for the holidays so it’s just me. I’m pretty used to it though, I make my own fun.” I give him smile to reinforce my point.

His eyes glaze over and I can tell I’ve lost him to a deep thought, as I see the gears turning in his head. He opens his mouth to speak before closing it again, and finally spouting out: “Come have dinner with us. On Christmas Eve.”

I had half expected a pity invite. A “why don’t you”. A “would you like to”. But Spencer hadn’t asked me. He had told me, in a way that left no room for arguing. I could tell he wasn’t going to budge on the matter. Whether it was the insistent but kind tone or the seriousness in his eyes, I don’t know. But I knew there was no use in fighting it. Not just the invitation, but the feelings quickly flooding my heart. Spencer Reid was like a fast approaching storm, but I didn’t want to outrun the rain. I wanted to dance in it, drenched in the downpour.

And that’s exactly what I did. As soon as I saw the look on his face when I said yes, it crashed over me like a wave, leaving me breathless and lost in the sea of my emotions.

#dr spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer x reader #original story #spencer reid x y/n #writing #Christmas #single dad #dad Spencer #Spencer and daughter #Spencer #Spencer Reid #spencer x y/n #Spencer x gn #Christmas shopping #fluff

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