#ive got quite a bit in store | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ranhaitanisgf · 4 months

Note

hi! could i request headcanons or oneshot (either is okay) for bonten timeline sanzu haruchiyo with an excitable, extroverted reader? thank you so much, and no worries if not! (+ also your theme still says rqs are closed, but i saw you posted them being open two hrs ago :3)

pay attention to me!!

synopsis: how would bonten haruchiyo act w/ an excited & extroverted s/o?

☆ a/n ˎˊ˗ idk if yall can tell but ive never written for mr haru lawl ... also !! i added a little mini oneshot cause i couldn't help myself :3 thank you so much for requesting !! this was so cute to write !! i hope everyone enjoysss xoxo

☆ characters ˎˊ˗ sanzu (akashi) haurchiyo x g/n!reader

☆ wc ˎˊ˗ 2.7k+

masterlist

❥ sanzu thinks you’re annoying at first.

❥ he doesn’t notice at all when you first move into his apartment building; he doesn’t take much care in noticing small things like that if it didn’t relate to bonten. his work and mikey were the only important things to him, so when he hears excited squealing seeping through his walls one day, he thinks that his neighbor has a kid, (which quite frankly annoyed him, but he decided he didn’t care enough to do anything about it).

❥ there was no estimated time as to when he would get home--ranging anywhere from 6pm to 4am--so it takes at least a month or two for him to meet you officially. coincidentally, he had been going out to grab a drink from the convenience store when you were excitedly jumping around outside your door, a delivery package in your hands.

“oh! omg, are you sanzu-san?!” “...hah? who’re you?” “oh my gosh, i’ve been knocking on your door everyday for the past month, but you never seemed to be home! i never got to introduce myself to you! i’m (l/n) (y/n)! i moved in not that long ago, so i wanted to get to know my neighbors!” “‘kay. bye.”

❥ the only thing he wants to do is get away from you; he doesn’t want to be bothered with civilians, much less someone as annoying as you seemed to be. seriously, why were you talking so loud?!

❥ much to his displeasure, you followed him all the way to the convenience store, talking his ear off about the most meaningless things he’s ever heard of in his life, (how does somebody talking about nothing for so long?!) as he purchases his drinks and walks back to the apartment building. it takes everything in him not to snap at you; if he did, he would probably wake up all the neighbors from raising his voice, which wouldn’t be ideal since this was already his fifth apartment in the last six months.

❥ he’s unsure how you possibly couldn’t get a hint that he didn’t want to be bothered, especially after he only said a maximum of ten words to you in the whole thirty minutes you were following him around, (are you really that clueless? is this what loneliness does to people?). it does take him by surprise that you aren’t scared of him though; you’d shown absolutely no sign of apprehension despite the scars around his mouth, which he supposes shows a bit of good character from you. not that he really cares.

❥ he’s more than happy to shut the door on your face when he gets back to his apartment, finally indulging in the peace and quiet of his apartment, (he doesn’t think he’s ever been so happy to hear nothing). right when he’s opening his bottle of sake, he hears squealing through the walls. when you start monologuing about whatever you’d received in the mail, he just decides to quit and go to bed.

❥ sanzu isn’t sure how, but you have somehow made it your routine to follow him places whenever you ran into him. he also isn’t sure why he continuously allows you to tag along with him, but as long as it doesn’t affect his work, he doesn’t really care.

❥ you’re always talking about something; the weather, your coworker’s strange behavior the other day, or the stray cat you saw in the alleyway that ran away. there are times when he tunes out your talking and uses it as white noise, but you never seemed to get upset at the fact that he visibly is zoning out.

❥ after a while, he gets used to your constant presence around him, so much so that he finds it strange to not hear your excited yammering while he’s at work, (although he supposes he wouldn’t want to have that constantly in his ear while he’s doing ‘business’ with someone).

❥ the one thing that gets the attention of the rest of the bonten executives is when he suddenly stops going to the clubs, leaving whatever work he had there for during the day when it was barren. it was such a drastic change in behavior; sure, sanzu was never the type to be obsessed with the scantily dressed girls in the club, but he was known for taking some home every once in a while. at the very least, he was known for getting various types of substances from sketchy dealers who frequently attended. what’s even stranger to everyone is the fact that he slowly starts to engage in less substances, (though he still does every once in a while) which is what rings the alarm bells.

“oi, sanzu.” “what do you want, ran? i’m fuckin’ busy.” “well, it can wait. the fuck’s been up with you lately? you’ve been acting weird as shit.” “so?” “so, what the hell’s been up with you?” “none of your goddamn business, that’s what.” “woahh, easy there, man. seriously, somethin’ bothering you?” “i said it’s nothing, so drop it.”

❥ by the time he realizes what he’s been doing, it’s too late for him. you and your talkative self have wiggled their way into his heart, setting up camp to stay for a while. he had a glimpse of a thought of it when ran was confronting him, but he immediately pushed it out of his mind because how could that possibly be true?

❥ it can’t be true, even if he unwillingly likes to think about it now. he can’t let himself think about it; you were one of the most strange yet innocent and pure people he’s ever met, so how could he willingly taint you with someone like himself? no, he wouldn’t let it happen.

❥ and just like that, everything seems to be back to normal for him. he goes to the club even more than he did before, and the amount of substances he uses seems to increase exponentially by the week. he begins to sleep on the couch in his dingy office instead of going home so that he doesn’t run into you, only going home for the bare essentials every couple days, (and even then, he leaves after just a few minutes).

❥ it’s just his luck that he gets out of his car the moment you turn the corner onto the apartment building’s block, seeing him in plain sight as he freezes for a moment. and then he unfreezes because 1.) why is he of all people scared to run into you? he’s a bonten executive, he’s killed people before, so why was his heart beating so fast right now? and 2.) he needs to get away from there. right now.

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

“hey!! not so fast, haruchiyo!!” you shout, your steps hastening as you try to catch up with him. sanzu can hear your steps behind him, but his long legs give him the advantage as he quickly ducks into the apartment building, smashing the elevator button and tapping his foot as it decides to be as slow as it possibly can be.

he lets out a ‘tsk!’ sound when he notices you enter the building, promptly looking away from you and looking cooly at the blinker indicating what level the elevator was on, (can this thing move faster?!).

“stop ignoring me!! where have you been?!” you questioned, your voice a mix of worry and anger. “i’ve been knocking on your door everyday with no response!! i know you don’t particularly like me, but you’re the only person who doesn’t walk away from me, so could you at least give me a reason that you suddenly started avoiding me?!”

“...’m not avoiding you.” sanzu doesn’t know what to do right now; he’s never seen you angry like this before. typically, he would care less about the feelings of some random person like you, but for some reason the hurt in your voice makes him unusually unsure of himself.

you scoffed at his lame excuse, rolling your eyes.

“look! you’re trying to avoid me right now with elevator! seriously, can you just tell me what i did? i won’t do it again, i swear! just stop avoiding me!”

“fuck, it’s not you!” sanzu suddenly said, his voice strained. “i’m just busy, okay?! you’re better off being friends with someone else.”

“but you’re already my friend!! why don’t you want to keep talking to me??” sanzu ignored your words, his gaze staring straight ahead at the doors of the elevator, his stare so intense that you could almost think he was trying to open it telepathically. “hey!! can you just answer the damn question already, haruchiyo?!”

“why do you need to know so fuckin’ badly?! i just said i’m busy!!”

“because! i like you!” you yelled, your eyes seeming to get a bit watery. “and i know you don’t like me and that’s fine but i just want to be able to talk to you and see you sometimes, but now you’re always gone and i don’t know when you’re going to come back and it scares me! i just-”

sanzu cut off your words, promptly stepping in front of you and slipping his hand behind your head, slamming his lips into yours. he’s not even sure himself why he did something stupid like this, especially when the whole reason he was avoiding you was because of his own flaws, but he couldn’t help himself when he heard you being so cute and worried over him, (seriously, how was he supposed to resist something like that?).

it obviously took you off guard at first, but sanzu made sure you quickly realized what was going on, his mouth desperately pressing against yours. his kiss was rough but passionate, his lips moving quickly against yours as he pulled you closer to him, his other hand sliding around you to rest on the small of your back, (he’s doing it purely out of instinct; he hasn’t really thought about how he had been avoiding you for this very reason).

a small ding! from the elevator grabs your attention, making you push him off of you as someone comes out from the elevator, glancing at the two of you a bit suspiciously before walking out of the building, leaving both of you in silence.

“uh…wanna go to the convenience store for snacks…?”

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

❥ it took a little bit for sanzu to open up to you about anything even a little bit, but once he did, you were able to figure him out pretty quickly, especially when he’d finally decided to be truthful about his actual profession, (bro does not work an office 9-5). due to all of this, it’s easy to tell that sanzu has a lot of issues, but it wasn’t something that you weren’t willing to work through with him!

❥ the two of you are the definition of black cat and golden retriever! you are always excited about everything and are taking him to all the cool and trendy places on dates while he is more quiet, keeping close to your side and watching everything with a careful eye, (especially people he defines as creeps, i.e. people who look at you for more than 0.2 seconds).

❥ date wise, he is usually following your lead. he doesn’t have the slightest clue about what you think it romantic, so it will usually be you planning outings for the two of you. a lot of times he will complain about being tired and not wanting to go out, but don’t worry, he’s completely lying; he just thinks it’s cute when you whine and pull his arm asking him to come out with you.

❥ despite the fact that he is not the most romantic guy, he does a lot of romantic things without realizing. he enjoys sending you your favorite flowers when you’re at work or staying at home while he’s at work, sending cute little notes along with them, (well, you think they are pretty cute).

i think you like these ones. -h be ready by seven. wear something you feel good in. -h sorry i didn’t buy milk. there’s frozen waffles in the freezer. -h

❥ sanzu does a lot of those little things for you too; opening doors for you, pulling chairs out for you, taking things out of your hands when you’re carrying a lot, etc. it doesn’t seem like he’s the type to do things like this, but it’s because he isn’t the type to do it. he only does it for you, and he himself doesn’t even know why he does these things, (he’s head over heels in love with you, but in no universe will he ever actually admit that).

❥ the most protective over you, and a little possessive too. he doesn’t control everything that you do, but he likes to have a clear-cut plan of everything you do on a normal day so that his mind is put at ease, (also so he can known when something is wrong). he won’t tell you this, but he has someone assigned to keeping an eye on your as you go about your day because he’s extremely paranoid that somebody from an opposing gang will try and come after you. he would prefer if he could by your side himself, but it’s the next best option, (he still sends frequent texts and calls you throughout the day to make sure everything is well).

❥ the possessive part of him comes out more when he thinks people are hitting on you, (they really are just being nice; he’s just a little bit crazy…he loves you though!!). he doesn’t hesitate to slide his long arms all around you, letting you continue talking while he makes a deadly eye contact with the person, his face twisted in mild disgust as if he were looking down at a cockroach, (he’s mastered this expression somehow). he knows that you enjoy talking with people so he won’t keep you from doing so, but in the process he will make sure that everybody knows you’re his.

❥ sanzu’s not the most affectionate person there is, but he is affectionate when he wants to be. there are times when he’ll come home and not say a word, just wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head in the crook of your neck, mumbling something about having a terrible day. really, he just becomes a big baby when he’s like that, laying his lanky limbs all over you and claiming that he’s ‘recharging’.

❥ it’s hard to label sanzu as an extrovert/introvert, since it can really depend on what mood he’s in and the situation. he’s more of an introvert in public settings with other people, (he doesn’t know how to interact nicely with people he doesn’t know) but when he’s with a majority of people he knows, he turns into more of an extrovert which matches with your energy quite nicely.

❥ unintentionally, there comes a time when you accidentally get to meet the rest of his coworkers. it happened when they were dropping him back off at home after a night at the club and you’d had to come get him from the car because of how inebriated he was.

“woah, you’re (y/n), huh?” “oh, yes! it’s nice to meet you! you all must work with haru, right? please continue to take good care of him! would you like to come inside for a snack or some water?” “...dude, what the fuck.” “how the hell did he bag someone like that?!”

❥ safe to say, they are all extremely shocked, (they never would have thought that someone like sanzu would be dating someone as sweet and talkative as you). the next day when he gets into work, he’s immediately hounded with all types of questions surrounding you and how the two of you started to date.

“holy shit, is that why you were acting crazy a few months ago?!” “i wasn’t acting fuckin’ crazy?!” “sanzu, you’re the craziest person here, and you started acting normal!! that was crazy!!”

❥ after that, he makes sure that his associates never get to see you again, (“hey, bring your pretty lil thing around sometime!”, “i would rather kill you right now.”).

341 notes · View notes

drdemonprince · 5 months

Text

When other people say that they do not have enough time to get something done, they (often, if they're quite healthy) mean they are taking into account the time it takes to do the laundry and arrange new pieces of furniture and cook dinner and meet up with friends to see a movie and run to the post office or the hair dresser and take the dog for walks and do the dishes and paint their nails and drive to the store and go to their cousin's wedding and go to the barbecue their friend is throwing on the weekend

they don't winnow their life down to just spending time at the computer, working from when they wake up until they cannot focus their eyes anymore, granola bars, coffee, and bottles of water all around them because of course they did not take time to have lunch or breakfast, only dragging themselves away from work when they are truly too exhausted to do any of it anymore, and then lacking the energy to do much of anything that remains of life but to eat a tiny bit more, sponge themselves off, and go to sleep.

i just saw a video of a fursuiter on their bed, legs kicked back, head propped on their hands, delightedly announcing that after many years of hard work they had finally finished their Master's degree. And some part of me, some sick withered part, thought really? you had time to do a Master's degree while also getting a fursuit done? and going to conventions, presumably? you had time in the day to research fursuit makers, have a sona designed and drawn by someone else (or to draw it yourself), to contact a maker to make a duck tape dummy of yourself, and to have a friend over to help you make it and to cut it off of you, to send it in the mail to the maker, to then get it and make videos? you had time to set up this beautiful bedroom that i see in your video, with a soft pink sham on the bed and LED lights behind your bookshelf and lamps and all kinds of stuffed toys? you had a life? you were out playing, and dancing, and pursuing your hobbies, and you did a master's degree?

because when i was working on my doctorate, there was nothing. three layers of foam on the floor with a fitted sheet over it. a folding card table from aldi that had cost $40 that my grandparents got me. no food in the fridge. no time to even get the internet installed, just stolen wi-fi when my laptop could pick it up. i woke up, got dressed, and slunk into the office. i sat alone in the dark working until my hunger made me furious and i could not write another word. and then i walked to the grocery store, got something to subsist on, went home, ate, kickboxing video, went to sleep. every day. with almost nothing breaking the routine.

and ive gotten better, so much better, but my brain still kind of works that way. i feel like i have to quit my job and stop being a writer if i want to have hobbies. to paint my bedroom. to marinate a meat for longer than fifteen minutes. to get a driver's license again. to take a trip. but i dont want to be like that any more. how do people know when to stop? i feel like i have to give everything my absolute all until there is nothing left or else i have done nothing. i feel that i would have to treat a hobby like a job to get it done. I feel that anything that takes more than two minutes is a huge waste of time i must feel guilty for. i am working on all these things. jesus i have been working on them for years at this point. but because i have been so successful at telling people to do less, i get pulled in. interview. workshop invitation. email. urgent in the subject line. call from my agent. meeting request from my boss. new book idea, better sell it now while my sales figures still look good. recording studio session. deadline. writing. can you talk about this. can you talk about that. tag. email. book idea. deadline. long heartfelt email. still so often i have to take my own damn advice.

and this is why i am getting a fursuit made!! and going to cons! and going to leather and latex events! and making socials that are separate for these things!! i am going to let myself be silly and soft and do frivolous things. i am so sick of what i do to myself, all the pursuit of seeming like a strong mature adult.

206 notes · View notes

alisinyobooty · 2 months

Text

THE LOLLIPOP

Pairing: y/n and Chris Sturniolo

Summary: You and the triplets had bought some stuff one of those items being a bag of lollipops. As you eat one of them Chris's mind can't help but wander....

Warnings?: smut, chris x fem!reader, pet names, teasing, touching. LOTSS of talking, most likely bad grammar, erm idkkk

Word Count: 752

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Chris, Nick, Matt, and I had just come back home after shopping for some stuff down at the corner store. When we got inside I scurried to the bags looking for a bag of lollipops I had bought. “Anybody want one?”. Chris nods. I threw him a lollipop and ran downstairs to his room. Chris comes down a few minutes later. I'm just scrolling on TikTok sucking on the lollipop, but I can feel Chris's eyes on me.

“Chris am I doing something?”. I asked. He jumps slightly in his seat. “W-what why do you say that?”. Sweat dripped down his face. He seems to be nervous... “Nothing it's just I can feel you hardcore staring at me". I said with a chuckle. “Oh, sorry I just can’t help but watch u suck on that lollipop”. He said practically mumbling “What was that?”. “Nothing!”. Minutes pass by. Still being able to feel his stare. From the corner of my eye, I can see Chris constantly repositioning himself and every time he does his hand is seemingly covering his crotch area. Strange... “Fuck I can’t do this anymore” Chris admits. “Sorry?” His words caught me off guard. “Ok uhm look” Chris groans in between breaths. “I just- “. He says before being cut off “Are you palming yourself?!” I yelled. “Shhh don’t let Matt and Nick hear you." silence filled the room "I am, I just can’t help it, you sucking on that lollipop it makes me feel things”. I blankly stared at him before having a seductive like look on my face. “You need help with that erection?”. Slowly walking into a crawling motion toward him in his gaming chair. “Yes, please anything I just need you “. he says practically begging. “Do you really need me to help you though you seem fine”. Atp I'm sitting face to face with his bulge. “I really do need you” I'm slightly taken aback by how bad he wants it but gave in. Taking his pants and boxers off. His dick has a little cum and has some redness to it from all the palming he did beforehand. “you really couldn’t help yourself huh.. well your in for a treat”. Before anything, you tease him a bit. Kissing his red tip and everywhere else. Licking around. “Are you just gonna tease me or what?”. Chris says barley containing a sentence. deep down ive been waiting ages to suck this man off so I quit the teasing and go all in. Slamming my mouth into his dick causing a loud moan to erupt from his mouth. slobbering his dick as I went faster, I look up to see him with his head thrown back and eyes practically in the back of his head from the pleasure. I couldn't help but pleasure myself too. Putting my free hand into my pants as I start moving my fingers in a circle around my clit. This causes you to moan a bit making it more pleasurable for Chris. “Fuck I’m close but just know when your done I’m moving on to you”. ”you can barely keep a sentence “hush ur mouth and enjoy”. I say breathing extremely heavily and barely being able to form a sentence myself. Without warning a white goop fills my mouth “your cum makes this whole thing 10x more worth it”. You say. Chris starts lifting his head up slightly enough for him to see me still touching myself. “Need a little help there baby??” He says. “What do you think?”. I teased as Chris lifted me by my hips placing me ever so gently on his bed. Not wasting another second, I am abruptly met with Chris’s middle and ring finger moving in me. Trying not to moan loud so Matt and Nick don't hear you two. “C'mon you can moan I don't care if the other two hear us”. I shake my head. This causes Chris to try and test me more by going faster and deeper. barely being able to take it anymore I let out the loudest moan “Fuck, Chris keep going ” A smirk is plastered on his face when u moan this. “Whatever you say". A familiar knotted feeling rises in my stomach. “Chris I’m gonna cum”. “Do it cum on my fingers for me” And so I did. Left breathing heavy I look up to see Chris licking his two fingers when u are finished. “This is All bc of you sucking a damn lollipop” he jokes out of breath.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

this was my first story so NTM and if you want to leave feedback feel free to do so! ( I had to cut like half of it because my freedom of speech is being limited 😭)

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #smut #y/n #chris x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut

117 notes · View notes

atlabeth · 7 months

Text

between colleagues pt 2 - anthony lockwood

part one

summary: the morning after and some shopping. this is still a great plan. right?

a/n: lol this took forever to come out but ive been busy asf and dealing with a lot of personal issues but i am really loving these two and they made me feel better so i hope you all enjoy!! they really are just two idiots in love lmao the shop scene was v fun

wc: 4.1k

warning(s): fem!reader, small mention of death in regards to a case, reader freaking tf out for a second. but basically no warnings this is all fluff

also im aware i use this gif a lot but it's like my favorite one of him so uhhhh yeah

Your shoulder was stiff when you woke up, and you had to stifle a groan of discomfort as you rolled onto your back. So much for staying off your injured side, you thought disdainfully. Typical of you to sabotage yourself in your sleep.

A glance over at the other empty bed proved Lucy was awake, and a glance at the clock on the wall proved she might have been awake for quite some time.

It was six in the bloody evening. Lockwood’s call with the Caldecotts must have gone well if you were able to sleep for 14 hours. You normally would have had the sense to be a little bit ashamed of sleeping an entire day away, but after the job you’d had and the arrangement you made with Lockwood, you felt like you deserved it.

You pulled yourself out of bed and went through the paces of making yourself presentable at the very least, then threw on a sweatshirt and made your way downstairs. Lockwood was alone in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a half-eaten piece of toast in front of him and the agency’s case binder in his lap.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Lockwood said, glancing up from the files on his lap with a smile. You rolled your eyes at him as you walked into the kitchen.

“Would you believe me if I said I was still tired?” You took a cup from the cabinet and filled it at the tap, taking a sip as you glanced out the window. Night had already fallen, and you could see the flickering of ghost lamps in the distance.

“You know, I think I would,” he said. “You didn’t make it the full 24 hours you promised—I think you’ve still got some in you.”

You chuckled and shook your head. “Where’s Lucy and George?”

“Grocery shopping,” he said, and he looked at the clock. “It’s taking them an awful long while, though.”

“Why are they shopping at night?” you asked.

Lockwood shrugged. “George really wanted to make pad thai, but we have none of the ingredients. Apparently, it’s important enough to warrant a night trip to the store. Lucy offered to go with him, and I made them take their rapiers, so it should be fine.”

“Of course you did,” you mused. “Did you tell them about our little arrangement?”

His eyes filled with amusement. “No. I figured you would want the honor.”

You sighed and let your head fall back. “Kind as always, Lockwood.”

“You should probably start calling me Anthony,” he said. “Just to get used to it.”

“What,” you said dryly, looking back down at him, “girlfriends don’t usually call their boyfriends by their last name?”

“I think your family may frown upon it.” Lockwood checked his watch, then set the binder on the table and stood up. “If you get a kettle going, I’ll make us tea.”

“Bored of write-ups already?” you asked, crouching down to pull the kettle out of a cabinet. Lockwood chuckled as he took the tin of tea bags out of the closet, and he turned the burner on just as you finished filling the pot up.

“I try to do my part, but they’re really not my forte,” he said. “You and George are much better at them.”

“And it comes from filing reports since the tender age of eight,” you said solemnly as you set the kettle on the stovetop.

Just then, the sound of a lock clicking open drew your attention, and you smiled as Lucy and George came inside. George had a reusable bag in one hand and her rapier in another, and Lucy also had hers drawn.

Your brows knit together. “Run into any ghosts?”

“Good morning to you too,” George said. You gave him a mocking look in return.

“No,” Lucy answered, pushing the door shut with her foot, “just being careful. Because somebody swore he saw a Spectre and refused to let a Visitor run away with his goods.”

“I am starving,” George enunciated. “I wasn’t going to let a ghost ruin all my hard work.”

Lockwood smiled. “Well, I’m glad you’re both intact.”

“I’m glad you’re finally up,” George said with a look at you. “I thought you’d never come out.”

“She slept like a brick,” Lucy said. “I knocked over all the bottles in the shower and she never even stirred.”

You shrugged. “Last night was exhausting. For many reasons.”

The kettle went off and you turned the burner back down. Lockwood took two more mugs out of the cabinet and set tea bags in them, then poured the boiling water into all four. You handed him the sugar container with a pointed look.

“Remember, half—”

“Half a teaspoon,” he nodded, taking it from you with a wry smile. “I remember.”

“Good,” you said. “You’re always a little heavy handed.”

“Are you saying I add extra sweetness into your life?” Lockwood asked, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“How did you know?”

“You know, we’re also here,” Lucy spoke up, though when you turned to her she was barely hiding a smile.

“As if I could ever forget you, Lucy Carlyle,” you said. “How’s your day been?”

“Quiet without you,” she said. “Lockwood’s been on the phone all day, and even though George didn’t sleep quite as long as you, he still woke up at two in the afternoon.”

“Oh, please,” George said over his shoulder, in the midst of rifling through his groceries, “I earned it. We all did, after the night we had.”

“True,” she said, tilting her head. “I actually didn’t have any nightmares for once— I’ve never slept so soundly.”

“See?” You gestured at her. “The charms I put on the walls are working.”

Lucy gave you a look. “You can’t seriously believe that.”

“No ghosts have gotten into our room!” you exclaimed. “And both of our nightmares have been getting better. That dragon is protecting us.”

Lockwood bit back a smile. “I still cannot believe you bought that.”

“Seriously,” George said, still organizing ingredients. “A week’s wages, just gone.”

You frowned. “My iron dragon is incredible, thank you very much. Besides, I’m supporting local businesses.” You glanced at Lockwood. “So the supply calls were made?”

“Every last one of them,” he confirmed as he stirred sugar into your tea. “Satchell’s was very happy to get our business again. Salt bombs will be in on Friday, flares come next week, and we’re getting brand new chains tomorrow. Plus a couple new silver glass containers from Sunrise.”

“That’s smart,” you said. “I think I threw our last square container in the furnaces last week.”

George frowned. “We went into the disaster that was last night without any silver glass?”

Lockwood cleared his throat as he handed you your mug, then set the other two on the table for Lucy and George. “Everything worked out in the end.”

Lucy just sighed. “We cut things too close for comfort.”

“The Lockwood & Co motto,” you said before taking a sip of tea. Perfectly sweetened. “How about the Caldecotts?”

“Rescheduled for tomorrow at half past noon,” Lockwood said. “Do you think you’ll be awake by then?”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. “I didn’t forget our deal that quickly.”

George raised his eyebrows. “What deal?”

“Oh, nothing,” you said. “Just sold my soul for a favor from Lockwood.”

Lucy frowned, eyeing the two of you. “Elaborate.”

Lockwood hid his smile with a sip of tea as he also looked at you. So this was still your treat.

You shrugged. “We’re going to a wedding together.”

“Not exactly selling your soul,” George said. “Congrats.”

You rolled your eyes. “We’re going together.”

“Congrats,” he said again. “Are we just emphasizing words now?”

“We’re going as a couple,” Lockwood said.

Lucy’s eyes widened and George nearly choked on his tea as they blurted out the same thing. “What?”

“A fake couple,” you added hastily, “to fool my family.”

“…Oh,” Lucy said, glancing at George. “That’s…”

“Less exciting,” he finished.

Lockwood made a face. “Less exciting? George, we’re going to be lying to her whole family for a whole weekend. I’d say that’s quite exciting.”

He glanced at Lucy for a moment before he sighed and looked back at Lockwood with a shake of his head. “Sure.”

“Anyways,” you segued, “I just thought you two should know. It’s not for another month and half, but between the usual ghost-hunting we’re going to be doing a fair bit of planning together.”

“Spend all the time together that you want,” Lucy said. “George and I are good enough at holding down the fort, right?”

“It was just Lockwood and I for months at the beginning of all this, and half the time I was on my own because of investigatory whims,” George said. “At least you’re usually sort of predictable, Luce.”

She frowned. “I take offense to that.”

Lockwood chuckled and shook his head as he set the other two cups of tea down on the table for them. “We won’t impede work at all, I promise. I’ll make sure everything still goes as smoothly as possible.”

“What Lucy said,” George said, finally satisfied with the order of all the ingredients as he got to work. “Spend as much time together as you want.”

“Maybe you will,” you said haughtily. “Maybe Lockwood’s lying and we’ll completely abandon our duties.”

“We won’t,” Lockwood assured, and you merely smiled as you took another sip of tea.

“Speaking of work,” Lucy said, “we ran into Kipps and Godwin on the way to the store.”

Lockwood’s expression hardened and he set his mug down a bit too forcefully. “Why didn’t you say that earlier?”

“Because it was nothing,” George said, looking up from cutting vegetables. You were glad he was the one with a knife and not Lockwood. “Just typical Kipps posturing.”

“He told us about some job they got,” Lucy said. “Some ridiculously rich widow hired Fittes to find and clear out the ghost of her husband, and they were put on the case.”

“What was her name?” Lockwood asked.

“I wasn’t really paying attention, if I’m being honest,” she said.

“Agnes Colville,” George said.

“That bastard!” Lockwood’s jaw clenched and he moved across the room to a stack of newspapers on the floor, toppling over from the height. He crouched down and began rifling through them, and after a second he pulled out one and held it up for you all to see. The look in his eye was only slightly crazed, which was admittedly progress. “He stole it from us!”

“I do remember seeing her in the paper,” you said after taking a moment to scan the cover. Her husband died of old age, and it was only because of their impressive fortune that anyone knew of it. “A tragedy.”

“I talked to her first,” he insisted, still crouched on the ground. “I called her right after I got this paper, and she told me she wasn’t looking for any agents.”

“She changed her mind, I guess,” Lucy said with a shrug.

“Or Kipps bothered her until she changed it,” Lockwood grumbled.

“Great,” George said wryly as he pushed garlic off his knife. “We’re going to be working double time to make up for this, aren’t we?”

“Sharp as always,�� Lockwood said, and he finally stood up as he set the newspaper back down. He pointed a finger at you. “After we go dress shopping tomorrow, it’s straight to the archives to pick up a better case than Kipps.”

You raised an eyebrow. “We’re going dress shopping tomorrow?”

“Did I not tell you?” He frowned. “Caldecotts then dress shopping. And now archives.”

“No,” you said, “you absolutely didn’t.”

Lockwood shrugged. “Well, now you know. We’re going dress shopping.”

“Awfully eager to get into this boyfriend role,” George said.

“I take my job seriously.”

“I already have a dress, Lockwood,” you said. “Dorothy Perkins, remember?”

“This is a special occasion,” he said. “You deserve something nice.”

You felt your cheeks warm and you looked right at him. “You’ll pay?”

“Of course,” he said. “Business expenses, remember?”

You laughed and shook your head. “Yeah. Alright, we can go dress shopping. But if I’m getting a new dress, you’re getting a new suit.”

“Fair’s fair,” he said.

“Do we get any new clothes on your bill?” George asked. “Or is that just reserved for your fake girlfriend?”

“Oh, come off it, George,” Lucy said. “Let them have some fun together.”

“Thank you, Lucy,” you said as you sat down across from her.

“Of course,” she said. “You’re saving me from the Caldecotts and a day in the archives. I should really be thanking you.”

You turned to look at Lockwood. “You’re not going to use this as an excuse to get me to come along on all your errands with you, are you?”

“Do try and be supportive, love,” Lockwood said. “It’s only right as my girlfriend.”

You groaned as you leaned back in your chair, trying your best to ignore Lucy’s smile. “Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.”

“Another Lockwood & Co motto,” George mused. “How fitting.”

“Is that Anthony Lockwood walking through my door?”

You looked up when you walked through the door after Lockwood, a grin already on his face as the boutique saleswoman, a kindly older woman, greeted him. A worker at an upscale clothing store knew him by name—already a good sign.

“Ms. Bridgeston,” Lockwood said, “it’s been too long.”

“It certainly has, young man!” She pulled him into a hug and he returned it, and the woman looked at you when she pulled away. “And who is this darling girl with you?”

Lockwood said your name with a gesture, and you smiled and held out your hand. “I’m his associate.”

“And my girlfriend,” he added as she shook your hand. You shot him a look over her shoulder with wide, questioning eyes.

“Practicing,” he mouthed at you with a shrug. He was so ridiculous that you had to stifle a laugh.

“Yes,” you said, looking back at her with a smile, “his girlfriend, too.”

“Well, it is wonderful to meet you, dear.” Ms. Bridgeston smiled at Lockwood. “Anthony here has wonderful taste in apparel—he was right to bring you here.”

“I believe it,” you said with a glance around. “We’re actually in the market for wedding clothes—my cousin is getting married soon.”

“Oh, congratulations!” She clasped her hands together, eyes shining as she looked between both of you. “Is there anything you need help with, or would you just like to look around?”

“We’re good to just look,” Lockwood said, “but we’ll certainly let you know if we need anything.”

Ms. Bridgeston nodded with another smile. “Certainly. I’ll be in the back stocking if you need me.”

“Thank you,” you said, and you looked at Lockwood as she walked off. “Any ideas?”

He shook his head. “Get whatever you’d like. This is a very special occasion.”

You chuckled and nodded, going off to look at a rack of dresses. The agency had been doing well for itself lately. You supposed you could splurge on a nicer dress after nearly dying a couple dozen times. “What are you going for?”

“Oh, I’m not getting anything here,” he said. “I’ve already got a suit at home, and I’ll get a pocket square that matches whatever color you’re wearing. We’re shopping for you—I’m just having fun here.”

“How exquisite,” you mused as you ran your finger over velvet. “We’ve only been fake dating for a day and you’re already all in.”

“Consider it getting in character,” Lockwood said. “We’ll already have gotten all our mistakes out of the way by wedding time.”

“Wise as always.” You took the maroon dress off the rack and continued moving down the line, and you glanced over at Lockwood. “You’ve already got what you want?”

“Most of my wardrobe is black and white.” He held up a navy suit. “This is different.”

“Hardly,” you said with a chuckle. “Dark blue is almost black.”

“This is my version of fun,” Lockwood said wryly, and you smiled as he went into the dressing room.

You spent the next while picking out dresses that struck your fancy, and by the time Lockwood was done, you had five in your arms. When he walked out, you nearly dropped them all.

You didn’t know what was wrong with you.

Perhaps it was lingering sleep deprivation from the near 24 hours you spent awake the other day. Perhaps it was lingering anger from your dealings with the Caldecotts—no amount of money could make dealing with Lorena worth it, but all those zeroes did help—or perhaps you were just already losing your mind.

Despite your complaints, you weren’t averse to the day Lockwood had planned out. Seeing as you’d spent entire days rooting through the archives with him on wild goose chases, an afternoon after an interview and some shopping wasn’t the worst it could get.

But now, standing in the back of the store as Lockwood emerged, you were beginning to question the wisdom of this decision.

Because you honest to God didn’t know what was wrong with you. You saw Lockwood in suits every day, or at least something suit-adjacent. Slacks, a jacket and tie, a million white dress shirts that you always end up folding. Pristine shoes, so shiny you can see your reflection in them, getting ruined by cobwebs and plasma over and over—you’ve spent many a night sitting with Lockwood talking as he polished his most recent pair of shoes, determined to get them back to their former glory.

The point was that you were used to it. You were used to seeing Lockwood dressed up—when you first joined the agency, you honestly thought he slept in suits as well until you ran into him one night on a mission for midnight tea.

So why were you unable to look away from him when he emerged from the dressing room? Why were you rendered absolutely and completely speechless?

It was nothing special, at least for Lockwood. Just a tuxedo. Navy blue rather than black like he always wore, but far nicer than the usuals. He was fussing with his bowtie as he walked out, muttering things under his breath, and thankfully not looking at you at all. You felt your eyes widen, your breath stolen from you for a moment, and all you could do was stare. Very classy of you, but you could hardly be blamed. He was stunning.

You didn’t even realize he was saying something until you heard your name for what had to have been the third time, and you blinked and snapped out of your stupor.

“What?”

He gave that damn smile and inclined his head slightly, holding up one end of the tie hanging around his neck. “Could you help me with this? I don’t know what’s wrong with me this morning.”

At least you had that in common. You cleared your throat and nodded, taking a deep breath as you walked up to him in the hopes that you looked far more composed than you felt. “Yeah. Of course.”

You felt his eyes on you the entire time and you tried your hardest not to focus on it. You’d done Lockwood’s ties millions of times, usually before a particularly important interview or a particularly difficult night. He always said it was good luck, and you always rolled your eyes with a smile.

“So?” Lockwood spoke after a moment, still watching you.

“It’s good,” you said with a nod as you finished tying the bow, making sure it was straight before you stepped away. “You look good.”

“Thank you,” Lockwood said, looking at himself in the mirror with a slight smile. “For the compliment and the help.

“It’s what I’m here for,” you said.

“And as much as I appreciate that,” he said, turning that smile on you, “we’re here so you can get a dress too. Did you pick any out while I was getting ready?”

You nodded and picked up the hangers you’d set down to help Lockwood. “Which one do you want to see first?”

“Definitely the maroon one,” he said with a nod. “Goes well with your eyes.”

“You’re too kind,” you said, and he chuckled as he pressed his hand to his heart.

You went behind the curtain, purposefully taking your time as you undressed so you could try and compose yourself further. It was just a suit, and he was just Lockwood, and this was just a fun little ruse to get your mum off your back for once.

Just a suit. Just a ruse. Just Lockwood.

You let out a deep breath and nodded, finally feeling like yourself again. You stepped into the dress and pulled it up, adjusting it around your figure before you zipped it up in the back, but you couldn’t get it all the way up.

“Lockwood,” you called, “can you help me?”

“Of course,” you heard him respond.

You pushed the curtain aside and stepped back out, making some more minute adjustments along the way. When you looked up, Lockwood’s eyes were wide, his lips slightly parted.

“Lockwood,” you said, staring at him.

He blinked and seemed to focus back in, his head perking up. “What?”

“My zipper.”

“Right.” Lockwood moved just a bit too quick around you, and you shivered as his fingers brushed your bare back for a moment while he pulled the zipper the rest of the way up. “Sorry.”

“Your hands are always cold,” you said. “It’s fine.”

“That’s—” he cleared his throat, and you turned just to see him shake his head. “Right. Yeah. Thanks.”

You raised your eyebrows, the slightest smile tugging at you. “For what?”

His own rose. “Hm?”

“You thanked me. For what?”

Lockwood shook his head again. “Don’t worry about it.”

You chuckled and nodded, holding out the skirt of your dress with your hands. “So? What do you think?”

“You look incredible,” he said, “obviously. It’s an honor to be your fake boyfriend.”

“You’re gonna make me blush,” you said, but your cheeks already felt too warm for comfort.

Lockwood grinned. “Good.”

You had to turn away at that point. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, teasing you like this. “You’re taking your role way too seriously,” you said, busying yourself with rifling through the rest of the dresses you picked out.

“I told you,” he said, “I take my job seriously. And as someone who takes their job seriously, I think that dress is definitely the one.”

“Really?” You held up a sparkling blue dress against you and looked at him. “What about this one?”

He shook his head. “Maroon is definitely the one.”

“I agree, dear.” You looked up to see Ms. Bridgeston walking out carrying two boxes, that same adoring twinkle in her eye. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You looked back in the mirror for another good, long moment, and you nodded decisively. “I agree. This is the one.”

“Wonderful choice,” she said.

“Perfect choice,” Lockwood said with a grin. “If you get changed, I can go ahead and pay for everything. We’ve already used up half our day—we’ve got to get to the archives.”

You eyed him. “You didn’t just say this was the one so we could spend eight hours in the archives, did you?”

“No,” he assured. “That is the one—trust me, love. You just happened to pick out the best one first.”

You chuckled and shook your head as you started going back to the dressing room. “Whatever you say.”

Soon enough, you and Lockwood were both back in your regular clothes, dress bag in tow, walking down the streets of London.

“You seriously don’t mind spending all that money for this?” you asked, glancing over at him.

“Of course not,” he said. “I can always take it out of your paycheck, if it’ll make you feel better.”

You laughed and hit him on the arm, earning a chuckle in response. “As long as you seriously weren’t lying to me about liking this dress to get me to the archives.”

“I would never lie to you about something like that,” Lockwood said, and he held up his pointer and middle finger. “Agent’s honor.”

You smiled inwardly. “Thank you, then. I suppose I can handle spending the rest of the day in the archives with you with compliments like that.”

“Thank you, then,” he repeated. “We do have to make a stop for tea, first.”

“Naturally,” you agreed.

As you continued on your way, not exactly arm in arm but close enough for your hands to brush every so often, you found your mind drifting back to Lockwood in that damned suit. You cleared your throat and shook your head, trying to physically push the thought away.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “Just got something in my throat.”

Lockwood nodded, thankfully oblivious to your inner struggle. You let out a deep breath.

This was definitely still a good idea.

#anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you #lockwood & co x reader #lockwood & co #x reader #reader insert #sadie writes

230 notes · View notes

americas1suiteheart · 2 months

Text

Weird Science | Chapter IV

Egon Spengler x Fem! Reader (But can be read as NB)

Summary; Basically just a timeskip to when Y/n actually becomes a Ghostbuster. I don't know what else I could've put here because it's that simple.

Notes; I literally started writing this an hour after I saw Frozen Empire (it was great, watch it if you haven't already). Really happy about this though and that it got me to write out another chapter.

Warnings; Mentions of smoking and foul language, as always.

Chapter 4/? | <Previous Chapter

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦︶︶︶꒦꒷

You stood in the laundry room, now covered in slightly dry ectoplasm from the suits that you just put in the wash. The boys went out on a mission and all three of them got slimed by a class 2 apparition, leaving all three of their suits soaked.

It was just a joy that being part of the Ghostbusters means that you get to wash and scrub off slime off of coveralls, the Ecto-1, and some of their equipment as your own suit and Proton Pack were still in the making.

The whole proton pack thing was partially your fault that it wasn't done yet.

Since you'd been working with the boys, with nothing to do you would just tinker around and put the Proton Pack together, of course other than having to take care of all of the ectoplasm. With you being in the lab so often, you got to know Egon a *little* bit more.

Him and you were both quiet, so conversation wasn't really a big thing especially when you were trying to concentrate on something that could go wrong when a small thing is misplaced.

"Hey, Y/n. Me and Peter are going to get some takeout, do you want anything?" Ray asks, leaning on the door frame.

"Awesome! I'll just have what I usually get. Do you guys need any cash to help pay?" You say, getting off of the washer to pull your wallet out.

"No, it's alright, don't worry about it. You've been cleaning off all of the ectoplasm off of everything you don't have to worry about it."

"Alright, thank you, Ray."

"Of course, we should be back in 10 minutes. Don't have too much fun doing the laundry." Ray shouts as he leaves the laundry room.

Right.

You head up into the lab so you could try to get more progress on the Proton Pack, only to see Egon working on it, too.

"Hey, Egon."

Egon quickly looks up, dropping one of the tools that he was using out of his hands, earning a small grunt of frustration from him.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to alarm you. Here." You apologize, going up to him and pulling a crunch bar from your pocket.

You had quite a sweet tooth yourself, so carrying around sweets with you was common. Ray had always poked fun at you about it, saying how I'm a scientist and was eating all the junk that people advise you not to, but he couldn't really say anything, or maybe he could, as both of you smoked regularly.

Egon looked at you and took the candy bar from your hands and putting it into his lab coat pocket, maybe not the best place to store it. "Thank you."

You nod and bend down to pick up the tool that fell on the ground, handing it to him.

"So, what are you working on, now?" You ask, putting your hands on your hips as you look at the machinery.

"I was working on the motherboard. I'd misplaced one of the wires going into it. That's why it wasn't making the proton wand work correctly, but it's an easy fix that will only take a few minutes."

"Okay, well do you need any help with it?" You ask leaning on the table.

"No, it's fine. But thank you." Egon says, continuing on what he was fixing.

"Okay then. Ray and Peter went out to get takeout for us, so they'll be back in a bit. I'll be in the garage getting that slime off of the Ecto-1 if you need me." You walk away.

"Hey, Y/n!" Egon called out.

"Yes, Egon?"

Egon hesitated for a second and went back to his work. "Nothing, sorry."

You knit your eyebrows in confusion. "Alright. Let me know if you need anything." You say, leaving the lab and going down to the garage.

I wonder what that was about? You thought to yourself.

"No, it was your fault, you're the one that didn't ask." Peter says, clearly sounding annoyed.

"We go there all the time, and the meal even said it came with peanut sauce! You can't blame me for it!"

Peter always seemed to like to argue, and about the stupidest shit, too. You shook your head, walking to the source of the bickering.

"What are you two fighting about this time?"

"Ray forgot to ask for peanut sauce." Peter says, crossing his arms like an upset child.

"It's not that big of a problem, Peter. Calm down so we can eat." You sigh, making your way into the "dining area" or "living area". Though, you couldn't really consider it that, it was only somewhat close to that because of the couch and small table inside.

You take a piece of small machinery that you were working on off of the table and place it on the couch, hoping that no one would sit on it.

Ray was unpacking the contents of the bag and placing them onto the table.

"This is your stuff, Peter. Then, Y/n, yours is over here. This one's mine, and then this one's Egon's. Okay, lets chow down." Ray says, looking into each box individually.

You sit in your seat and open your boxes of food and grabbing a fork to eat.

Egon walks in and everyone else sits down and eats their food in silence.

Today wasn't really eventful, the boys surprisingly didn't have a single call today, so they either worked on something else or lazed about.

Egon took the candy bar out of his lab coat and began to unwrap it.

"Did someone give you a little treat, Egon?" Peter says in a singsong tone.

Egon shoots daggers at him, you doing the same as Peter looks at you.

"I'm going to head off now. I'm tired of the events of today. Goodbye now!" Peter says, getting up and cleaning up after himself.

"Oh, you're tired from doing nothing?" You say.

"Yup! See you guys tomorrow!"

Peter still managed to be just as obnoxious as he was in college, if not maybe a little less. You have no clue how Ray and Egon managed to handle his antics and overall personality for all these years and counting. You were barely able to handle him for more than a couple of hours.

You sigh and get up from the table. "Okay, well I'm gonna head out now, too. Thank you for the food, Ray. Don't miss me too much."

"Alright goodnight, Y/n. Be safe!" Ray says, waving goodbye to you.

"Will do. Goodnight, guys."

After you had walked out of the firehouse and at least a block down you realized that you had forgotten to put the laundry into the dryer.

Shoot! I'll just go back and put them in, I'm not that far and I don't want it to get all weird overnight.

You make your way back into the building and head into the laundry room and take out the suits, then put them into the dryer and turn it on.

"Y/n? What are you still doing here? You left 10 minutes ago."

You turn around to see Egon standing in the doorway with a laundry basket in his hands.

"Oh, I forgot to put your guys' suits into the dryer so I came back to put them in." You say, rubbing your hands on your pants to get rid of the slit dampness that came from transporting the laundry.

"You didn't have to do that. I could've put them in myself."

"Well I guess it's a little too late for that now, huh? Thank you though, Egon." You laugh lightly.

"Uh, yeah. I fixed that motherboard by the way, I think the only thing left to do is connect all the wires of the proton wand to the pack. If you don't mind helping me with that tomorrow.." Egon says, adjusting his glasses up on his nose.

"Yeah, of course. Thank you for fixing it by the way. I'll have to get you another "treat" for tomorrow." You say, quoting what Peter had said earlier.

"Right. Well, goodnight, Y/n. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Egon." You place your hand on Egon's arm and leave. You could've sworn you heard a sharp inhale coming from him.

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦︶︶︶꒦꒷

I think I got this done in like four or five days and I think it came out okay. Thank you for the comments and stuff that I got from this, it makes me really happy to hear that you guys like it!!

@dragonashtray (Here's that reminder!!)

#egon spengler #Harold Ramis #ghostbusters #ghostbusters 1984 #peter venkman #ray stantz #janine melnitz #egon spengler x reader #bill murray #dan akroyd

61 notes · View notes

ecstasyhighway · 1 month

Text

You & I | e. williams

chapter ii

CW: abby cheats on reader 😓 uhhhh there is no smut in this its really just a look into their lives kinda. Drinking and literally one mention of ellie being high. reader has her own friends who ive just given random ahh names and the owner of the music store ellie works at is mentioned. ermmm i think thats it if i missed anything pls lmk.

a/n: please understand that i am not a professional writer.. shit might be wrong (grammer, punctuation ect) its not really proofread but its been put through grammarly so yehah enjoysies i guess

MEN DNI I WILL FIND YOU.

wc: 2.3k ish

prologue. ch 1.

You wake up to the sun shining into your room, your phone going off relentlessly, “Man what the- who is texting me” You pick up your phone,

*45 missed messages from Abby*

‘baby cmon’

‘It was a mistake, I'm sorry’

‘y/n you are doin way too much rn just pick up baby please’

You roll your eyes at her pleads. She cheated on you with one of your best friends and she just expects you to forgive her? Hell no! She betrayed your trust. You put your phone on Do Not Disturb and began to get ready to shower.

‘Where the fuck is my speaker..’ you think to yourself as you look through your apartment, making a mess of clothes on the floor. You stop and think back to the last time you used it.. Last night! you go to your kitchen and sure enough there it is, right on the counter. You grab it and go to your bathroom, put on a playlist, and get in the shower.

Ellie couldn’t sleep, she was just too embarrassed, she still could not believe she was touching herself out in public. She thought she was cringe as fuck for that.. Whatever she has to get ready for work. She does a quick sniff test ‘Good enough’ she gets into her car and heads to the shop.

She gets to the store and notices that one of the lights on the sign has gone out. She grabs her phone out of her pocket and sends a text to Mrs. Alden,

‘Good morning Mrs. Alden, I just got to the shop and noticed that one of the lights that are on the sign has gone out. Would you like me to call someone?’

‘Good Morning Ellie. Yes, you can call someone. I will be stopping by at around 4 pm. I need to pick up something and I need to pay the bills. I will see you later Ellie.’

*Ellie liked a message*

Ellie heads inside and gets the store ready to be opened, she calls a repair company to schedule an appointment to get the light fixed. She goes to the back to do a quick restock.

“Ellie! I'm here, do you need anything?” Jesse yells from the other room, Ellie flinches at the sound of his voice and walks to where he was

“Fuck, Jesse you scared me, I dunno maybe? Not right now I don’t think. The electrician is coming to fix a light on the sign at like 12, but I might not be here so will you be able to let him in and show him which light it is? Oh also Mrs. Alden is coming around 4 so be respectful she's old and she will fire you if you are just the slightest bit disrespectful”

Jesse gives her a nod indicating that he understands,

Ellie goes to her little music room to rest as the store doesn't open until 10 and it's only 8 right now. She is nervous. As much as she loves Mrs. Alden, she scares the shit out of Ellie, she's quite old and mean, and she never comes to the shopâ€¦like ever.

Whitney Alden Is the owner of ‘Musemoon’, she started the shop in 1999 and it's been her baby ever since, she met Ellie when she was 10 and took her in, she helped Ellie understand music better and form a connection with it. Ellie is terrified of Mrs. Alden, why? Don't ask, she just is.

So Alden coming to the shop is very stressful for Ellie as she is the manager and is next in line to own the store when Whitney dies. Everything has to be perfect, no album out of place, no dust on the record players. Oh, and Ellie’s music room needs to be spick and span. So before Ellie takes a little nap she sets two alarms, one for 9:50 and another for 3:00.

The sound of the alarm jolts Ellie out of her sleep. She looks at the time, it’s 9:55, enough time for her to open up the store and do some inventory.

“Jessie, I'm gonna open up shop and do some inventory before it gets too busy in here alright”

“Okay”

The repair man had come to fix the light about 8 hours ago and Mrs. Alden left an hour ago. It’s currently 8 and Ellie is getting ready to leave, but Jessie stops her

“Hey, Ellie, Dina and I were going to go to this bar downtown with a couple of friends, you wanna come?”

“uhhh yeah, who all is gonna be there?”

“Me, Dina, Tara, Cat, Syd-”

“I’m sorry, Cat?” Ellie looked at him like he was stupid “Cat as in my ex? the girl who literally made me lose my shit for like half a year?”

“Yeah, but I thought ya’ll ended on good terms?”

“Jessie Jesus fuck of course we didn’t end on good terms I literally had to stop working for a while? She made me go insane, To her we ended on good terms but to me, she fucked me up.”

“sooooo that's a no to going to the bar?”

“no fuck you im going, I need a drink. Alden stressed the fuck out of me” She rolls her eyes playfully and gives him a lighthearted punch in the arm.

————————————

You get a call from Abby, she has been blowing your phone up all day. Why can’t she catch a hint, you’re pissed at her. You don’t want to talk to her. Ignoring the phone isn’t going to stop her. You need to talk to her. Face to face. ‘fuck’ you thought to yourself, you know if you pull up to her house and try to argue with her about this, all that's gonna happen is her hands in your pants fingering away the anger. No, you decided to stand your ground, you’re going to go to her house and talk to her like the adults you are. This will not end in hate fucking, you promise to yourself.

You get in your car and drive to her house, your phone still going off constantly. Once you get to her house your eyes fixate on a car. A car you’ve seen, shit a car you’ve rode in. What. The. Fuck. You walk to her front porch and bang on the door

“ABBY” you continue knocking but still no answer.

“ABBY MOTHER FUCKE- LET ME IN OR GOD SO HELP ME I WILL KICK YOUR DOOR DOWN”

The door swings open and you see Abby, she has a black muscle shirt on and some black and red basketball shorts. You can’t lie, she looks so fine.. But no you’re mad at her.

“Baby, baby..calm down we can talk abo-”

you cut her off mid-sentence and push past her and walk into her home. “Now why the fuck” you laugh a little in disbelief “Why the fuck is Lexi’s car in your driveway?”

“it's not what you think baby I promise”

you’re looking at her intensely, she’s bullshitting you right now,

“bullshit”

You begin to head to Abby’s room, hoping to god that it was really just a misunderstanding. But your stomach drops when she tries her hardest to stop you from going in there. You burst into her room and there you see it. Lexi Smith. Here in the flesh. Literally. She’s naked and in Abby’s bed.

“Are you fucking kidding me..?” Tears begin to swell in your eyes and your voice trembles. “are both of you being so serious right now? Lexi what? Abby, I'm used to you doing stupid shit like this. But Lexi? Really? fuck both of yall”

Lexi sits there, silent with nothing to say. You look at Abby, her arms are crossed and her head is down. You walk up to her. “Look at me,” you say sternly

She opens her eyes and looks into yours. Her eyes are looking into yours so gently, she thinks she's gonna get away with this. Not this time. You’re done. You can’t take this shit anymore.

You look in her eyes. Anger filled your senses, and before you could even process it, you slapped her, hard enough to leave a mark. “Don’t call my phone ever again. I'm done, Abby. I'm done with you” You storm off to your car, tears still in your eyes, you get into your car and just sit there. You finally let go of the anger and sadness that had just built up in your body. You try your hardest not to cry too much but it's already too late. You drive home still crying. You open the door to your apartment and dial Jillian’s number.

‘hello..?’

“Jilly”

‘sweetheart? what's wrong?’

“Can you comeover please”

‘of course my love’

You hang up the phone and lie on your couch feeling numb. Why, though? This isn’t the first time Abby’s cheated… Maybe it's because it's your best friend that she cheated on you with. You sob even harder thinking about it.

about 5 minutes pass when you hear your door unlock and open

“y/n? sweetie? It's Jill” She walks over to you confused

“what’s wrong?”

you sniff, “Abby.. a-nd Lexi” You hiccup slightly between words “they…she..” You can’t even get your words out without getting the urge to cry. But Jillian understood what you said. She just hugs you and you both sit there for a moment so you can calm yourself.

“how about we try to take your mind off them for now, let's go out! a bar, my treat, Marshall and Jean can come yeah?”

you nod at her offer. Marshall, Jean, and Jillian. The ones who have been there since day one. The ones that have never betrayed you.

Jillian tells you to go get dressed and that Jean and Marshall will be there in about an hour.

Going out feels like a chore to you, you really don’t want to leave but, Jillian always knows what's best for you so you oblige. Throwing on a beige sweater dress and some heels, you and her were ready to hit the town.

Once you both arrive at the bar, you spot Marshall and Jean, ready with open arms to talk about how they never really fucked with Lexi and how they all knew she was fake. Even though they were the ones who told you to become friends with her during your freshman year of college, but whatever you know they’re just saying what you want to hear, trying to lighten the mood.

You are about three shots into some alcohol Jill had ordered for the table when you see a familiar face. Where did you see this girl? She looks so familiar, you begin to think back a day or two but the alcohol in your system was clouding your memory. The music store, right what was her name

you were so lost in thought you didn’t even realize Jean was trying to get your attention

“Hellooo?? Earth to y/n? girl hello I'm trying to talk to you”

“shit my bad what's up”

Marshall chimes in “What were you thinking about babes? you were so out of it”

You look at him and giggle a little, “okay guys, just listen” you pause hoping you have their full undivided attention. “you see that auburn-haired girl over there” You point in her direction trying to be discreet. “I know her, I met her like yesterday at that music store I went to”

They all look “Girll what is her name?” Marshall asks, trying to get any type of information he's definitely going to look her up and do some digging for you.

“I honestly do not remember. I know it started with an E or an A. Elsie? Ally?..Ellie! it was Ellie”

“bitchhh you should go talk to her” Jean chimes in but Jillian objects

“I really don’t think you should, you had a rough day and you’re already tipsy”

Jean and Marshall look at her angrily, “which is exactly why she should go talk to her. It might take her mind off of everything” Marshall says, trying to persuade her.

Jillian just throws her hands up in defeat. “Do whatever makes you happy y/n, just know I don’t think this is a good idea”

You consider just listening to her and not even taking the chance, but after some more encouraging words from Marshall and Jean, you give in, taking another shot before walking to her table.

You walk over to her, she’s sitting there so uninterested in what's happening around her.

“Hey?” you say softly trying not to startle her, She looks up at you, her eyes glossy and slightly red, she’s high..

“oh shit hey, you’re umm that girl from yesterday, y/n right?”

“yes, I am, anndd you’re Ellie right?”

she nods and looks into your eyes, “I just wanted to say hi, I saw you from across the room”

She smiles slightly “Well hey”

You realize you’ve been just standing there awkwardly, not saying anything

“Sorry I just wanted to say hi, I’ll get out of your hair now, again so sorry for bothering you”

She looks you up and down, “noo you are not bothering me if anything you’re saving me from them” She laughs and looks at her friends who are talking amongst themselves. You smile and giggle at her, you are very embarrassed,

“You want a drink?” She asks as she gets up from her seat and puts out her hand for you to take. You accept her offer and take her hand, she leads you to the bar and orders two whiskey sours

——————————

OH! and this was inspired by “The Thought Of You” by @ap3arll !!

🏷️ @vqxen @shiimer @bready101

#—ecstasyhighway #ellie smut #ellie williams #lesbian #ellie williams smut #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #wlw smut #wlw #ellie williams series #ellie is so hot #i need her so fucking bad #writers on tumblr #tlou smut #tlou 2

47 notes · View notes

stelladess · 3 months

Text

EDIT: I only now found there are more complete translations of the new lorebook, that may alter things here quite a bit depending on if it touches on relevant stuff. Ill probably write a more easy to follow and updated version of this post when I got less schoolwork anyway so yeah. Arknights Theory: The nature of the Lord of Fiends powers and the purpose of the black crown. IDK how to spoiler and non of what I find onlines helps with that so just know... spoilers ahead. I also wanna say that I havnt double checked a lot of this stuff, I did for some of it but id like to re-read a bunch of this when some of the CN only stuff has come to global anyway. So take with a grain of salt is all im saying that I remember right since I dont remember exactly where to find all of this info, altough I will mentioned where I thought I got it from for various evidence. So tl;dr here is that I think Amiya´s powers is actually about manipulating originium, the memory, emotion and energy blasts (also making a sword) is all extensions of that and NOT fully distinct powers like some believe, also the Lord of Fiends has to have oripathy. Also the black crown was made by Priestess to eventually facilitate her resurrection and the reason doctor convinced Theresa to transfer her powers to Amiya was part of that plan. Now, why do I think all this? Starting on Amiya´s powers. While dialogue indicates some skilled casters *can* learn multiple types of arts, Amiya is not a skilled caster. She is very powerful but not particularily skilled at it. Her powers are ALL derived from the originium arts her oripathy and Lord of Fiends nature grants her. She also had all these powers pretty much from moment 1 it seems so it seems unlikely she learned it trough practice to do many different things. So its likely one ability that is just very broad in its usage, similarily to how Rosmontis´s powers work (if I remember right Kal´tsit even says their powers are very similar in nature). Amiya can do energy blasts, view memories and sense emotions... according to Kal´tsit in chapter 7 the way sarkaz prophecies work is basically that thoughts are stored in originium allowing other sarkaz to tap into the memories in that originium to calculate a likely outcome with multiple people´s brains. So originium can store thoughts/minds. And by extension memory would be a part of that. There is also clearly stuff relating to the dead but ive heard several CN server events have gone into that more so I dont wanna speak about anything regarding dead souls until that comes to global because I do not wanna go reading very complicated lore stuff in a language I dont understand really, so ill adjust or drop this theory as nescesary based on future information of course. So, then the emotions and memory stuff is covered, making the sword is also simple, its just made of originium. So the energy blasts? Well the main way originium is used is as a power source and its required to cast arts for those without oripathy (who have originium inside them to channel arts anyway). Another piece of evidence here is that Manfred could disrupt Amiya´s arts with his own, which seem to revolve around detonating or manipulating the energy in originium, allowing him to harm Amiya when she tried to gather up energy from nearby originium. When she pushes herself extra hard she probably draws extra power from the originium in her own body, which is why it has such a negative effect on her physically even compared to other casters. This, and a bit from the new lorebook revealing the first Lord of Fiends was the first person with Oripathy, is why I think the Lord of Fiends HAS to have Oripathy.

So, with that established, why do I think the Black Crown is meant to resurrect Priestess? First of all, the Black Crown or Civilight Etherna, is tech from the advanced precursor civilization (it was not found by them but invented by them, its directly referenced as a different project to the AMa projects, which is part of what Kal´tsit is refered to by certain beings in the know about the previous civilization, the crown also resembles Mon3tr in appearance). Its stated in Amiya´s module that its purpose is to store information, memories and emotion. And we know for a fact that they were capable of brain uploading, as seen with Friston in Lonetrail. Its original purpose was as a historical record, but that doesnt mean it cant have been altered later. Priestess is stated by Friston to have created Originium, something we will likely learn more about in the Victoria arc on account of certain reveals in chapter 13. Since Originium is so closely linked to the crown, by virtue of the first infected being the first Lord of Fiends, originium was clearly created in relation to something to do with the Crown. And well.. when Priestess put the doctor into the sarcophagus she said they would be reunited and their love would outlast the stars. Despite her seeming convinced she would die.... Kal´tsit seems to have been either created or turned into what she is now by Priestess too, or well by their people at least. But for dramatic convenience I think Priestess makes the most sense. I think the crown getting linked to the sarkaz collective unconcious/dead souls (this is the part im most uncertain about because there is so little info on this on global especially) was NEVER part of the plan. Since it seems likely the previous civilization created the ancients (animal people) to drive the sarkaz away (and also be slave labour, this isnt like 100% confirmed but there is some hints for this) I suspect they saw the sarkaz as lower beings and had never considered the crown would link up with them. So I think the original purpose was that some sort of great calamity fell upon their people, Priestess tried to store her mind in the Black Crown in some process that led to the creation of Originium and because the first person to down the crown was a sarkaz made her unable to do what she originally intended, possessing a later wearer of the crown and reunite with the doctor. This part is of course pure speculation as well with very little evidence, but it does line up somewhat. And I think some of the concept trailers supports the idea the crown can let someone store their mind to take over a later host (altough not with Priestess specifically).

So, fast forward to Amiya... she was born in Rim Billiton a normal cautus girl, her family were miners and lived on a normal landship in Rim Billiton... but one day disaster struck and the ship got destroyed in a horrible disaster. This is all gone into more in To the Grinning Valley but was already implied beforehand. To the Grinning Valley is also interesting for several reasons to this theory, they explicitly call attention to how strange it is that the doctor would bring Amiya with them after finding her in the wreckage. Saving her is in line with their behavior, but why bring her along? Its common in Rim Billiton for miners to adopt other children. Why not leave here somewhere? Why bring her with them to Babel? And this isnt just Amiya wondering or an outside observer, we find out from Savage that Kal´tsit doesnt know why the doctor did what they did. And whats more, Kal´tsit believes the doctor convinced Theresa to transfer her powers to Amiya, and since no previous Lord of Fiends had done so directly, the crown picked a successor, I think the doctor also taught Theresa how she could directly move it, circumventing the dead souls of the sarkaz will being imposed on the crown´s choices. So, why Amiya? Kal´tsit either doesnt have any idea why or just didnt want to tell Savage, but it is clear that she NEVER agreed with the decision. We have some ideas why Theresa did it, Amiya not being a sarkaz would mean she would be less strongly influenced by the dead souls and the lords of kazdel would refuse to follow her. Or at least chapter 12 and 13 heavily implies this was her motive. But why did the doctor want that? In To the Grinning Valley the question of if the doctor always intended to use Amiya for that from the start and grew to care about her over time, or if they took her in with no ill intentions and then got the idea later out of desperation, is raised but left unanswered because the doctor cant remember, and no one else knows why.

I believe the doctor also wished to undermine the crown´s link to the sarkaz, and that the plan was to use Amiya as a vessel for resurrecting Priestess. And it is an interesting topic, its often brought up how much even pre amnesia doctor cared about Amiya... but in To the Grinning Valley we focus a bit on the insecurity and uncertainty Amiya and Savage have about *why*. Savage telling an anecdote about a friend who went bad after fame got to their head and admitting she doesnt know which is worse, if the doctor did love Amiya and their circumstances made them so willing to trample over what they loved that they would force the black crown on her, or if the doctor had always been intending to just use Amiya for that purpose. And Amiya admitting she never knew why doc would care for her so much. And here is an interesting thing... in anything post victoria arc, we have NEVER seen Amiya and the doctor interact so far. Amiya is in Arturia´s oprec but otherwise she hasnt been on screen post victoria arc. To the Grinning Valley is set before it. The doctor has been doing all manner of things all over Terra in that time period, but Amiya isnt there with them, she is still with Rhodes Island is clear though. So... does Amiya and the doctor still have a good relationship post Victoria arc? Doc clearly cares for Amiya still, when Rosmontis talks about missing Amiya in Lonetrail (she had been away for some weeks or months, unclear) doc agrees that they miss her too, but they dont really go into any detail and are talking about both Amiya and Logos. Depending on what we learn in the later chapters of the Victoria arc, I could see Amiya feeling rather betrayed by the doctor. Not to the point of completely cutting them out but that it might still make her a bit more distant to them. I think it would be interesting to see how Amiya would take it if she learned that the doctor had originally intended to use her for very selfish end goals. Surely the thought has crossed her mind and she just isnt willing to entertain it, but if she learns something in the climax of the Victoria arc that shakes her absolute confidence in the doctor? That could be a pretty big deal. We already know Amiya has a habit of rather then accepting people wronged her first try to look for excuses. What Theresa did to her Amiya refuses to admit is wrong even when directly pointed out to her how messed up it was (chapter 8 Rosmontis compares what Theresa did to Amiya with what Loken did to her). She isntead focuses on how she must be failing to live up to Theresa´s expectations, an idea NO ONE tried to put into her head as far as we can tell. Altough it is a little unclear because she gets VERY defensive about it when the Damazti Cluster suggests she was forced into her role at Rhodes and given too heavy responsibilities to carry. Will she do this this time as well? Look for excuses why what doctor did was "justified"? But in chapter 13 she also finds meaning in rejecting the legacy of the black crown and that she will use its powers purely for her own ideals and not worry about what its purpose is. With that in mind how would that color her perception of finding out an even older purpose for it that implicates the pre amnesia doctor?

#arknights #amiya arknights #doctor arknights #arknights priestess #theory #this bnuy really needs therapy #civilight etherna

66 notes · View notes

prettypinktulips · 1 year

Note

Do you write for Thomas Hewitt? If yes can I have please Thomas Hewitt with male reader who works at a chainsaw store? Poor Tommy broke his chainsaw (mf is strong as fuck so he probably would) and Hoyt forced him to go alone to buy one, poor boy was so anxious and awkward but he saw a handsome man (male reader) and it's some love at first sight type shit.

The rest is up to you 👬

YES I LOVE TOM TOM ! THANK U SO MUCH FOR REQUEWSTSIGN ( the first fanfic ive written so no hate plz) Thomas swallowed hard as he looked up at the big scintillating sign in front of him. "CHAINSAW HOTSPOT", One of the "O's" were out, the flickering was hurting his eyes a little bit. He looked back forward and brought himself inside as he looked around, it was nothing like he expected. The place was really extensive despite of the small exterior. I wish he wouldn't have made me go by myself, he knows how bad I am with people. Thomas felt himself get rather excited when he started to notice all of the different selections of chainsaws there were. "You looking for something, handsome?" Y/N said with a soft smile and brought his fist to his cheek. Thomas gasped at the voice being spoken to him, he felt his heart skip a bit as he brought his attention towards Y/N. "Those chainsaws might be a little small for you.. you look like a big man." His e/c eyes shifted over to a different aisle as he raised his arm and pointed towards it. Thomas looked around for anyone behind him and then back at Y/N, he brought his hand up as he pointed towards himself. "Well, yes of course you! Who else would I be talking to?" Thomas got embarrassed as well as a bit flattered. Nobody has ever called him handsome, well except his mother.. which well was his mother why wouldn't she.

A quiet "Hm." fell past his lips, seems like it was the only thing that could come out. Thomas nodded and walked into the aisle where Y/N was pointing at, and he was right the chainsaws here were HUGE. Just the way he liked them. "What a strange fellow." Y/N mumbled off to himself and tilted his head back a little to keep his eyes on the brute, he crossed his arms. "Would you like me to help you find one?" Y/N stood up and headed over towards the black-haired male.

"I.." Thomas looked at the (shorter/taller) male in front of him and got flustered. Well now that Y/N was already in front of him there's no telling him to leave now. "Let's see what we got here.." Y/N slowly dropped down onto his knees and picked up one of the boxes, he rested it on his knees as he started to open it. "Here, try this one out for show," Thomas was a little nervous and held the chainsaw close, he stood back a bit and grabbed the wire as he yanked on it. The chainsaw had a little malfunction but that's why Thomas immediately fell in love with it, a smile crept across his lips. Nobody else could see it since he had his mask on.

But Y/N could tell by the way his eyes reacted. "So this one is taking to your liking?" Thomas jolted as if he forgotten the h/c haired man below him. Y/N started to stand up and looked (down/up) at the male. "You know, you're quite quiet. I don't mind it though, makes my job easier." Thomas felt relieved as he nodded to Y/N's previous question. "Alright, let's get you set up then." He followed behind Y/N to the counter and watched as the h/c haired male got behind the register. His eyes devoured the males looks, Thomas didn't know he was doing it.. it wasn't intentional. "See something you like?" Y/N said abruptly and it snapped Thomas back to reality.

"I..I wasn't.. trying to." Thomas looked down at himself felt ashamed, he tried to think of things so he could change the subject. This was so fucking embarrassing to the point it made him spill out a whole sentence. Y/N felt a little bad and gently laid a hand on Thomas' cheek, it immediately calmed him down. He didn't know why but it did. "At least take me out on a date first or precisely tell me your name!" Y/N teased. Thomas tensed up a bit as his face devolved into a bright red. He's never went a date because of his deformities. That's right, Y/N didn't know about them because he's been wearing the mask. He didn't know about the hideous figure underneath the mask. That's probably the only reason he was talking to him this way, because his face was hidden.

"Hm." Thomas brought his hand up to his mask and brought it down a bit, he looked to the side and then (up/down) at the male in front of him, expecting to get yelled at or even tyrannized like in the past. But all he saw was a smiling Y/N. "Your face is still a treasure to me, I wish you would've shown me sooner!" Y/N caressed some of the scars. It was final, Thomas has officially swooned over for Y/N. How could a man be this perfect? He doesn't care if they just met, he's really considering this dating thing after all. "C..Chainsaw.." He mumbled. Y/N had completely forgotten as he hurried to move his hand away.

"Sorry, let me get that for you." Y/N looked to the side at the counter and grabbed the chainsaw, he turned the box over and scanned the barcode. He smiled softly. "You know what, don't even worry about it. I'll pay for it." Thomas had a questioned look on his face. "Why..?" Y/N just giggled and took out his card, he swiped it on the swipey thing (idk what its called) and paid for it. "Our date should be enough to pay me back. Reminds me, you never told me your name, stranger!" Thomas felt himself going back to that awkward phase again. "It's.. Thomas." Y/N nodded and smiled. "I'm Y/N, nice to meet you." He handed the chainsaw to him. Thomas just stared at the chainsaw, he was beaming with happiness.

(short story)

THE DATE. Thomas was well over nervous. Even nervous seemed like a too simple term to describe what he was feeling. All they were doing was going to the movies which he had to beg Y/N to do since he was already too nervous showing his face at a restaurant. He sat outside playing with the waistband of his jeans. All Y/N said was to wear something casual, but Thomas couldn't do that. Y/N didn't deserve casual. He decided he was going to wear the top of a suit and then jeans. The suit pants made him too uncomfortable, too busy in his own thoughts he hadn't noticed Y/N in front of him.

"Well, don't you look handsome?" Y/N smiled and laid a hand on the tie, he looked (up/down) at the black haired male. "You know you didn't have to go all out for me.. But I appreciate it." Y/N looked down at his watch for the time. Thomas felt his heart pounding out of his chest, it didn't matter if Y/N was wearing just a casual outfit he looked astounding. Even if he was just wearing a trash bag he could still make it look stylish. That's what Thomas thought anyways. They headed inside the theater. "It's really pretty in here.." Y/N looked to the side at the male and then noticed the mask, he frowned slightly. "It must've been really dark outside! I didn't know you were wearing your mask, Thomas.

"I.. just didn't.. want to embarrass you." Thomas hurried to look away, Y/N just giggled. "Embarrass me? What in God's name are you talking about?" Y/N brought them over to a dark corner and laid a hand on the mask, he pulled it off. "See, look at this pretty face of yours." Y/N leaned in a little as he laid his hand on the brute's cheek. "I would never be embarrassed of you, okay? You can't control your deformities, it's not your fault." Thomas was just about to speak when Y/N gave him a soft kiss on the lips. He was dumbfounded. He hesitated a little but eventually kissed the h/c haired guy back. This was the best night ever for him.

#thomas hewitt x male reader #fanfic #x male reader #fluff #a little fruity #thomas hewitt #texas chainsaw massacre #i love thomas hewitt

180 notes · View notes

avatar-anna · 2 years

Text

The Professor

summary: you and harry are perfect strangers

words: 2.5k

tw: none

quick note: this takes place in the current world, but doesn't exactly follow the exact sequence of events as they happened!

PART I, PART II, PART III, PART IV, PART V Series Masterlist

March 2021

Nothing in your life was particularly meritorious, at least to the general public. All your life, you'd been praised for being exceptional, but you never asked to be. You just wanted to live your life in peace, doing what you loved and helping those in unique ways. One day one of your students just happened to get it on film.

You weren’t from England, but you moved there about three years ago to teach forensic, criminal, and behavioral psychology at the University of Cambridge. When students walked into your classroom on the first day of school, they would give you “the look.” It was one you received all your life, the one that said people thought you couldn’t be quite so young and be where you were—collegiate level lecture halls, research labs, touring apartments by yourself, buying wine at a grocery store—and yet, there you stood. You never let the look get to you, though. For you, learning was the top priority, whether students or colleagues underestimated you wasn’t your problem, it was theirs.

As time went on, though, you managed to establish something of a reputation at Cambridge. You were known among students as a favorite professor, one that was hard but fair, and someone who was able to explain the material to any student, no matter what their academic history or learning disabilities might have suggested. You became known for your well-taught and interactive classes, office hours that were worth attending, and a last few minutes of class where you let students ask you whatever they wanted—if they stumped you, you gave them extra credit, if they didn’t, no extra credit. The game was supposed to be a way for students to get to know you better, and to lighten up your classes a bit. You loved to learn, and you wanted your students to enjoy it as much as you did.

It became a popular facet of your classes, students raising their hands and asking questions about theoretical probabilities, quantum physics, what constellations you would find on the opposite hemisphere, or if you could quote a specific line from one of Shakespeare’s poems. You were hardly ever beat, but that just made your students try harder.

Soon enough, students started to film you and post the videos online. You didn’t know what app or what social media platform that was being used, seeing as you had no social media accounts of your own, but you were assured that no one was making fun of you. In fact, it was quite the opposite. People from all over started submitting questions to see if they could best you.

Losing this game was a very rare occurrence, so much so that you hung up a bell in your lecture hall and let the student who posed a question ring it when you couldn’t come up with an answer. If your class got to ring the bell ten times, you’d take the class out for drinks. The bell was hardly ever rung, though, until one day, you picked on a girl who asked one simple question.

“Can you name a Harry Styles song?”

You’d blinked, not at all expecting that question. Popular culture questions came up every now and then, but students mostly asked you about stuff relating to math or history or science, wanting to know just how deep your well of knowledge was. But this question left your mind utterly blank, something that was almost as rare as not getting a question right.

“I—I don’t know who that is,” you said, unable to come up with an answer.

The whole classroom cheered, the first win of the term, and you sent everyone home or off to their next class with the promise to the young woman that you would make sure to give her extra credit on her next assignment.

According to your students, you became known online as the professor who, "knew everything except who the most popular man on the planet was." That didn't really bother you, though, and when you were asked about it, you merely said, "I don't know everything, actually. Sometimes I wish I did, but I don't." That was the end of that, and celebrities were soon left behind.

Then the pandemic happened.

You still had to teach, but even you noticed that online learning in the middle of a global pandemic was less than fun. You tried your best to keep your students engaged, still agreeing to your question and answer game, and ringing a bell for them whenever they got it right.

That’s when students convinced you to get social media. Before lockdown, all you had was your school email address and an old Facebook profile you rarely used, but one of your students claimed that a portion of the Internet liked learning from you, and that after your answer about Harry Styles, your “fanbase,” the student called it, only doubled.

You told your students you’d think about it, but ultimately decided that you weren’t going to. While you appreciated all the benefits of technology, it wasn't really for you. But one day you came across an article about how students of all ages felt like they weren’t actually learning while in quarantine, and you couldn’t shake the feeling you should do something about it, that you could do something about it. So you looked up all the proper equipment, ordered it online, and suddenly you were posting videos of yourself teaching multiple subjects on YouTube, enlisting the help of one of your former students to do the editing and the posting, not really sure what would be interesting or “cool” for viewers.

A following started to build as lockdown continued, and you came to love uploading your videos, if only because it made you happy that you could help more people learn. You were someone who constantly needed an activity to occupy your mind, and filming was a perfect addition to your stay-at-home schedule. You'd mastered entry-level coding, complex cross-stitching, and played multiple games of chess against your cat (who was an excellent opponent). Filming online educational videos seemed like the perfect pastime.

It wasn’t really about popularity or views or notoriety for you, you just wanted to teach, but apparently you had gained almost two million subscribers since your first video. When the world started to open up again and you were allowed back into the classroom with a mask mandate and a hybrid schedule of online and in-person classes, you thought about ending the videos, but the student who edited them for you—who you began to pay once you realized it was something of a full time job for them—convinced you to keep filming. “You could even record some of your lectures and post those,” they’d said, so you kept uploading.

Life had somewhat returned to normal, though now on top of teaching in your lecture hall, you were also still teaching online and filming videos about math and science and any other subjects you could think of. It was a lot of work. At least, it was a lot of work for the average person. But you drank coffee like it was water and had a minor case of insomnia, so there were more than enough hours in the day to get everything done.

----------------------------------------------------------

Free time wasn’t something you knew very well, but you always made time for rare first editions.

You had an acquaintance at an old bookstore close to Cambridge’s campus, and they emailed you saying they were being lent Shakespeare’s first folio and wanted to know if you wanted to see it before they had to put it in the glass display case for the other bookstore guests. You immediately jumped on the chance, buzzing with excitement during all of your lectures on the day you were meant to go.

You got to the bookstore early, so early that the shopkeeper told you it hadn’t arrived yet. So you browsed the shelves until you were called to the back, trying to find something that caught your eye. And you did, it just wasn’t on a bookshelf.

“‘The dawn is my Assyria; the sunset and moonrise my paphos, and unimaginable realms of faerie; broad noon shall be my England of the senses and the understanding; the night shall be my Germany of mystic philosophy and dreams.’”

The man holding the book of poems looked to where you were standing, a perplexed look on his face. “That’s—”

“Nature by Emerson. Chapter three,” you supplied, unable to help yourself. You never tried to come off as arrogant for knowing as much as you did. Knowledge just excited you so much that sometimes it came pouring out of you.

Sometimes people didn’t like being shown up. As a child, your teachers and classmates would find your intelligence and penchant for reciting material that should’ve been much too advanced for your age annoying. But this man didn’t seem to mind, though it was hard to tell with the mask covering half his face.

He flipped through the book before landing on a random page. “Chapter seven, page seventy-three. The line that comes after, ‘to pure spirit, it is fluid, it is volatile, it is obedient.’”

Grinning, you spoke without missing a beat. “‘Every spirit builds itself a house, and beyond its house, a world, and beyond its world a heaven. Know then, that the world exists for you, build, therefore, your own world.’”

His eyes crinkled, and you took that to mean he was smiling, which made something unfamiliar flutter in your stomach. He had nice eyes, you thought. A pretty shade of jade green framed by thick eyelashes.

“Impressive,” he said. “Do you have a photographic memory or something?”

“Or something,” you replied. You had an eidetic memory, a sky high IQ, and a brain that constantly wanted more knowledge. Mix that with ambitious parents and you had three PhDs and four degrees with a fifth one on the way. It was easier not to go into it, though, so you kept your career to yourself.

While your mind was stellar, your communication skills outside of the classroom were not. And once you realized you didn’t have anything else to contribute, you slowly backed away. “Well, happy reading.”

“Hold on,” the man said before you could get too far. “Do you have any recommendations? I’m trying to get back into reading.”

Get back into reading? You would never know what that was like. There was never a moment where you didn’t have at least one book on your person. Biographies, novels, essay collections, it didn’t matter. Reading was your first and only love. Well, except for your cat. Reading was your first and only inanimate love.

“Y/n, it’s here!” the shopkeeper called.

The man looked at you curiously, and you were stuck between leaving him behind and getting a book for him. That could take forever, though! You didn’t know what this person liked or what he was looking for. He had Emerson in his hands, but that didn’t really help you understand his taste. A classic? No, that would be too obvious. Maybe a play? It was a good option, and it would certainly be quicker than a novel.

Your mind sifted through titles and authors and genres, trying to find one that stuck out. It snagged on a title, and you were suddenly saying, “Uh…Wait here.”

Moving through the stacks, you went to the shelf you’d visited a month ago when you happened upon this book. You grabbed your copy and rushed back over to where the man was still waiting.

“I read this last month,” you said, handing the book over. It had all your notes and annotations in it, as you were the only person at this bookstore that got to rent books.

You came so frequently that the shopkeeper made a deal with you—a flat rate once a month for as many books as you wanted. Since your library at home was already quite extensive, you took him up on it, and you’d been renting ever since. Sometimes if you really liked a book, you’d purchase it, but most times you returned it, more often than not with your notes in the margins.

“On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous,” the man said, reading the title off the cover. “Alright, I’ll check it out.”

You didn’t wait around to see if he actually would. With a small wave, you were off, ready to get your hands—gloved, obviously—on a precious artifact.

----------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks later and you were running late to your lecture. In your short teaching career, you’d never been late before. You were almost always early, occasionally on time, but never late. But just as you were leaving, you received a phone call from the police department.

Since you had a doctorate in forensic and criminal psychology and a degree in behavioral psychology, you often offered assistance on certain cases. Nothing like what might be seen on television, but you did read through case files and pinpoint things that were inconsistent or odd, looked at letters and notes to break down linguistics in the hopes that it would give something away, and looked at crime scene photos and provided any kind of knowledge that was stored inside your brain. You didn’t have a badge, and you didn’t go out into the field, but you did what you could. Another thing to keep you busy.

You were asked to look at another case file, which gave you an idea. Honestly, you were shocked you’d never thought of it before.

“This week we’re solving a murder.”

Everyone in your classroom had been chatting quietly, some playfully teasing you for being late to your lecture, until then. Some eyes were wide like they’d just been told you were giving the final today, others looked eager to apply what they’d learned.

You passed out the copies of the old case you got permission from the police department to use, explaining the rules as everyone got a packet. “Starting today, everyone will be getting into groups of three. You will attempt to solve a case from the seventies, using evidence from the case as it was collected. Everything you need is in the file, but I’ve labeled them to designate which day you should open each file. If you pay close attention, you should be able to solve this case quicker than the police did back then. Please do not skip ahead or look up this case online, this assignment is not being graded as such, but it will be an assessment of how much you’ve learned so far and what areas I need to go over more. I will expect a report from your group by the end of the week that details your findings, your process for solving the case, and of course, who did it and why you think so. Sound good?”

“Will you be taking part in the assignment?” one of your students asked.

You considered his question. “I hadn’t thought about it, but sure. I’m ending class early today because I really want you to use this time to focus on the assignment. You can use the classroom if you’d like, but if you are leaving, please let me know your groups beforehand. Have a good day, y’all.”

Nearly everyone left after that, but some groups stayed to work in the lecture hall or ask questions. Once everyone was taken care of, you left the room while flipping through your own case file, but it wasn’t the one you assigned to your class. Your eyes quickly scanned the new file given to you by the lead detective on the case, turning page after page as you looked at preliminary findings, autopsy reports, and possible suspects. Reading at a rapid pace was both a gift and an asset to you, it was what got you so many degrees and such a full library at home.

Unfortunately, sometimes your reading consumed you, and as you were walking and turning to the next page, you bumped into someone.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry!” you said, trying to catch your papers before they could fly away. Not only were they important, but they weren’t supposed to be read by the general public.

So focused on trying to put your file back together, you didn’t even notice who you bumped into, or that they had crouched down next to you to help. But then a hand rested on your arm and you froze. “It’s alright. I wasn’t looking either, to be fair.”

Your ears perked. Your excellent memory stemmed mostly from sight, but you remembered sound quite well too. You knew that voice.

Looking up, you saw the man from the bookstore. His face was covered up again, but his eyes were now covered by a pair of large black sunglasses as well, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his head, but not enough to cover a small tuft of hair that was clipped together. He didn’t seem to show any signs of remembering you, though, so you didn’t mention your previous encounter.

The man tried to offer you a hand to help you up, but you didn’t take it, for no other reason than restricting the spread of germs. You were always conscious of viral infections and catching things from strangers, but the pandemic made you more paranoid, and now you had a hard time just shaking hands with people.

“Woah,” he said, looking over one of the papers he helped you retrieve before handing it back to you. “This sounds serious.”

“It is,” you said matter of factly.

Some people didn’t like your bluntness, but he seemed to take it in stride. “Are you a detective or something?”

“...Or something.”

He took off his sunglasses to look you in the eye. “Or something,” he repeated. “You’re just full of mysteries, aren’t you?”

So he did remember you. “Not really. I just consult for the police department from time to time.”

“This is labeled as a series of murders. Possibly serial,” he said, perplexed by your casual tone.

“It probably is, that’s why I’m consulting,” you said. “But you’re not really supposed to see that, so if I could just get those back, please.”

You reached your hand out for the papers, but he held them just out of reach. “Hold on, now I’m really curious. Where are you headed?”

“Home. Why?”

“I want to know more about what you do. I promise I won’t look at these,” he said, waving the remaining papers in his hand. “And I want to discuss the book you recommended.”

“You read it?” you asked, completely forgetting about part of the case file that was being held hostage.

“Of course. Maybe we could get coffee somewhere? I understand if you don’t want to invite me into your home.”

“It would probably be safer,” you agreed.

His eyes were crinkling, which made you think he was smiling behind his mask. “Because I could be a suspect?”

“What? No, I know it’s not you.”

“I know I shouldn’t be offended, but you wrote me off so quickly,” he joked, but you could tell he wasn’t actually hurt. If he was, it definitely would’ve been a red flag.

You shrugged, reaching your hand out. “You don’t fit the profile.”

“Ah. Right,” he agreed, though you were pretty sure he had no idea what you were talking about. “So, what do you say? Coffee?”

“Well…” You really needed to get home and work on this case. You already had some thoughts about it that would be helpful, and you didn’t want to chance losing parts of the file like you’d nearly just done now. “This is kind of time sensitive.”

“I understand,” the man said, and did you detect a slight twinge of disappointment in his voice? “Can I at least walk you back to your place and we can talk as we go? I promise I’m not a stalker or a murderer or anything. I just really liked the book and need someone to discuss it with.”

Even if he was a stalker or a serial killer, which you didn’t think he was, you had a black belt in two forms of martial arts, so you’d be more than capable of getting away, or at least doing some damage, but you didn’t tell him that. “Sure. I guess that’s okay.”

----------------------------------------------------------

You ended up inviting him into your home. Both of you had so much to say about the book you read, and by the time you made it to your front door, you were only halfway through your recommendation list, so you asked if he wanted to come inside so you could write them all down. He took you up on the offer, holding the door open for you after you unlocked it. He kept his mask on, and didn’t question you when you asked him to wash his hands and slide surgical booties over his shoes. Though things were slowly, very slowly, going back to normal in Cambridge, the virus was still spreading, and you weren’t taking any chances.

“Sorry about the mess, I was in a bit of a rush this morning.”

“I’m not sure you would classify this as ‘mess,’” he replied, his green eyes wide as he took in the main room of your townhouse. There were books everywhere—on large bookshelves, stacked on top of each other next to the bookshelves, on your antique coffee table, and underneath lampstands. The shopkeeper’s deal to rent his books really came in handy, you were running out of space to put them.

While he browsed your bookshelf, you cleaned up your kitchen, putting aways the stray cup and plate you had to leave on your kitchen table this morning to rush to the police station. It wasn’t like you to leave dishes out like that, but you didn’t have the time to clean up after yourself. Now that everything was put away, you could rest a bit easier.

Once everything was cleaned up, you pulled your laptop out of your backpack and began drafting an email. When you invited him inside, you told him that you had to send it before you sat down to discuss anything else. Lives were literally at stake, that had to come first even when a cute stranger wanted to pick apart your brain about your favorite books.

Cute? Was he cute? You’d only seen the top half of his face, but your stomach fluttered more intensely anytime his eyes crinkled at something you said on the walk to your house, and he seemed to have a nice physique beneath his baggy sweatshirt. Objectively speaking, he was attractive, but looks were never something that attracted you to someone. You liked relationships of the mind. Someone who at least tried to be interested in the things that you were. It didn’t happen often, but this stranger seemed to hang on your every word, and that made your heart beat faster more than anything else.

Shaking your head, you focused on the email you had to send. Once it was drafted, edited, and looked over twice, you sent it, hoping that you’d done your part to better society.

The stranger looked your way when you joined him in the main room. His hands were behind his back and his shoulders slightly hunched as he inspected a shelf that was somewhat shorter than him.

“You have a pretty diverse collection,” he said.

“Thank you. I like to hunt for rare first editions and signed copies when I can,” you said, joining him by one of your bookshelves. “You can take one off the shelf if you’d like.”

Never had anyone been so interested in your collection before, and it made you want to share with him even more. Not once had he judged you for having so many books or for your tastes or what was clearly an obsession. He just wanted to know more, and you could never turn down an opportunity to share knowledge.

“Not a lot of poetry,” he said absentmindedly, his eyes still scanning the shelves.

“It’s not my favorite. Why? Do you like poetry?”

He shrugged. “As much as the next person, I suppose.”

Before you could reply or show him your beloved American classics, your cat softly padded across the floor and twirled himself around the stranger’s legs.

“And who might you be?” he asked, eyes wide, but not repulsed. It occurred to you then that you probably should’ve warned him about your cat in case he had allergies, but by the way he reached down to pet him, you didn’t think there were any sprouting problems.

“That’s the Emperor,” you said, picking up your cat.

“The Emperor? Like in Star Wars?”

“No, his full name is Emperor Trajan, my favorite of the Roman Emperors. But I usually just call him the Emperor so that people can associate him with whomever they want.”

He tilted his head at you. “You have a favorite Roman Emperor?”

“Mmhm. I went through a Roman antiquity phase last year.”

You were worried that you shared too much, revealed too much. Your students knew how much knowledge you had about almost everything, but there was a barrier between you and them. This person in front of you willingly came into your home to see your collection of books and to talk to you more, but what if you weren’t what he was expecting?

“Sorry, that probably sounded weird,” you blurted, hugging your cat a little tighter to your chest.

“Don’t be sorry. No one should have to apologize for their interests,” he said, and though your first thought was to not believe him, you felt he was being sincere.

“Well, I think the guy who murdered a bunch of people should apologize for his interests,” you said, referring to your case file. He blinked at you, and your eyes widened. “That was a joke!”

You were afraid that your dry sense of humor was going to be the thing to really send him packing. Perhaps it wasn’t funny to joke about those things, but you found it necessary sometimes in order to deal with reading and looking at some of the horrible crimes people committed.

And then he did the strangest thing. He laughed. You were so surprised, that you let out a small laugh of your own.

Reaching out, he scratched the Emperor behind his ears. “So, tell me more about this Emperor Trajan, and why he should be my favorite too.”

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x professor yn #harry styles fic

2K notes · View notes

owainigo · 5 months

Note

heyy, this is a little personal but what do you work as? your art is so cool and i was wondering if you work in an art related field/what kinda jobs you can do with an art degree. happy holidays!!

when i graduated i got licensed as an insurance agent and worked in insurance up until recently when i quit due to mental health related reasons. rn im focusing on my etsy store and commissions as i have some money saved up from that and ive been consulting doctors on getting on disability as per therapist recommendations so im honestly not sure what the future holds...i might be the wrong person to ask on what to do with an art degree just because it turns out my mental issues were too severe for a lot of traditional jobs you can hold with one (nothing against this question or you though, dont worry about asking this! i appreciate the curiousity! otherwise i wouldnt have answered this haha) but i do work on friends game projects for a bit of money (my major was game art)

i did use a lot of my classes as opportunities to develop personal projects, and rn in my free time im working on a game but i dont really see that as part of my job, more of a passion project lol

56 notes · View notes

day-drawn-blog · 7 months

Text

Epilogue 1 : Just leave the flames and take a chance

To be with me tonight - Take my hand and hold it tight - Down by the River.

Pairing: Astarion x Reader. This is set in Act I.

Tags: angst/fluff some smut later

Part I : The outer layer. Mostly angst and jealousy.

Part II : Where you try to find meaning or draw boundaries.

Part III : maybe tonight I'll rest in peace.

Part IV : There is more to do and I still want to live.

Part V : our futures bound, our bodies known.

Part VI: These ain't my sins. I broke my chains.

Part VII: You are not mine and am I truly yours.

Part VIII : Your blood like wine, invites me in.

Part IX : I welcome my sentence, to give you my penance

Part X : I can't go yet...don't let me die

Epilogue II : Moonlight burning the Flower

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, you walked out of your tent to find Astarion pouring over his book of necromancy. Not yet in armor, his casual clothes showed a bit of his chest. You were tempted to unbutton him a bit further, but reminded yourself not to take advantage of him.

You turned, and met Shadowheart.

"Good morning" she said. "I wonder what's in store for us today" she said in her usual tone of voice. You noticed no bitterness. Reassured, you broached ... "Shadowheart, I am sorry, for not telling you... about him... " - "Oh, it's alright. It wasn't your secret to tell. If anyone it should have been him. I can't say I am not disappointed in him."

You were silent. You didn't know what to say.

"But no matter. I am willing to let bygones be bygones. Bury the hatchet, so to speak" said Shadowheart, graciously. Before you could reply - Laezel cut in. "Why would you bury a weapon? I do not understand your kind or your ways, Shadowheart,". She rolled her eyes. "It's a phrase, Laezel". They both started bantering, leaving you to quietly walk away, in relief.

Everyone started on their way.

Astarion seemed really preoccupied and walked along with Gale in the back, talking about something. The party succeeded in defeating a Drow in the underdark that had yielded a bunch of precious magical items for everyone. The Myconid colony was celebrating that night. Everyone at camp was happy. The mushrooms were ... funny.

You were feeling quite happy and light hearted that night.

The warm glow of the fire, alcohol, laughter, music. All of your favorite things mixed together. You got ready for a night of merriment and walked to the crowd, joining Karlach and Laezel. They seemed to be relishing the battle they had that day, going over all the fun details together and exchanging their favorite bits.

Your eyes searched for Astarion.

Then you saw him and wished you hadn't looked for him. On the other side of the fire, he was busy talking to ... Shadowheart! Not just talking, but smiling. Conversing, drinking. You heard him laugh. You couldn't look away, because you couldn't believe what you saw. You thought they had fallen apart.

You thought he pledged himself to you.

Why then. What was the lie? Because there most definitely was one. So he still wanted her? Or he didn't want ... you .... and then you realized. Yes he had said he was yours. He was your ally, your friend. He was loyal to you ... but never once had he said he loved you! He had said his body belonged to you, but never his heart! His loyalty was yours, but not his feelings ...

You stared at him in disbelief of your own stupidity.

You had misunderstood everything he had said, and heard what you wanted to hear, what you hoped to hear. Your heart cried out in pain. You were happy in so long, but it was all made up. By you! You lied to yourself! You wove an intricate web of lies ...for yourself. Astarion met your eyes. You didn't look away. You looked at him, in anger, in hurt. Hoping to convey the betrayal you felt...

He smiled at you, and raised his glass.

Dig the dagger in deeper, why don't you, you thought. You looked away, and considered walking away to a desolate place. And then you stopped yourself. Enough running away. You deserve to be happy too. You decided to stay. You sought out some companions. Karlach and Laezel looked fun. Lets go join them. You walked to them and asked to partake of some alcohol. They gladly obliged.

You were determined to be happy.

Soon enough, you felt good. you felt even better when Laezel kissed you. You couldn't get away in time, but it felt hilarious. You did manage to stop her from any further advances though, to her slight disappointment, but she took it well. You cheeks flushed, you found yourself laughing a lot. At things that were not even that funny. You were happy. You felt grateful. You hoped he saw you.

Then you saw Wyll.

You went up to him, and asked for a dance, in your drunken state, and he obliged. He took your hands and gave you a twirl before leading you around putting your dancing skills to the test. Had you not been drunk you could have held your own, but now, drunk himself Wyll had to hold you by the waist many times to prevent you from falling over. Karlach wanted to join in, and pulled in Gale much to his awkwardness.

May I have a dance as well?

Was that Astarion you heard? Yes. He had walked up to you both. He was, obviously talking to you, trying to break you and Wyll up, maybe. But you were having none of that. "Yes, of course" you said, before pushing him to Wyll. "Here you go" and then walked off. Being drunk had its advantages, you could act outrageous and not have to face the responsibility. You did not look back to see what they did after.

Time to find the next object of interest.

Halsin! Ah, Halsin and his big strong arms. You felt like squeezing them. And you did. Somehow Shadowheart was around. And she said something in admiration of his big strong arms as well. Was she drunk too? Oh well, no matter. You giggled with her, as you both hung over Halsin's arms and found it ridiculously entertaining. Laezel quipped something funny but you couldn't hear her well.

Your eyes met Astarion across the fire.

Dammit. You didn't intent to do that. He was sitting down, keenly watching you. Had he finished dancing with Wyll? You wondered. None of your concern you thought and returned your attention to your drunken shenanigans. You decided to pester Gale after that. So you sat down next to him, and asked him about his former lover. You barely heard what he was saying. But you pretended to pay attention. Every now and your eyes wandered to Astarion, against your will.

He was looking at you, every single time.

Across the flickering flame. As he drunk from his cup every now and then. You looked at his handsome face. Having forgotten your resolve, as you rested your head on Gale's knees. Or was it Karlach's? Was Laezel trying to get her arms around you again, or was that Wyll. Your vision was a bit blurry at this point. You felt you could drift off to sleep. You didn't care who it was that would take you back to their tent that night. The more the merrier you thought and giggled.

It was hot. You should take your shirt off, you thought.

You proceeded to do just that. "Let me help you" - you heard a voice. Yes please, you felt a hand, "Alright - enough of that" you heard another pushing the first hand away. Why? It was hot. You tried taking your shirt off again. Then you felt being picked up. Oh good, someone is carrying you to bed, just as you had hoped. The night had proceeded just as you had hoped and wished.

"I got her" you heard a voice, possibly of the one carrying you.

----------------------

#astarion romance #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #astarion angst #baldurs gate 3 #fanfic #fluff #vampire #astarion fanfic

100 notes · View notes

talkintrashcann · 1 year

Text

Campout - Xavier Thorpe [pt.3]

summary: the friendgroup is going on a camping trip and miscalculated how many tents they needed, so now you have to share a tent with your least favorite person.

warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, multiple parts, fear of drowning

word count: 1.8k

a/n: im terribly sorry for disappearing for about a month, i didn't mean to be gone for so long. my life has been put upside down for the past couple weeks and ive had to figure some things out about my future so writing wasn't my priority at that time, but ive got it all figured out now (for the most part) so im not planning on taking so long for the next chapter. i promise the story is actually getting somewhere this time !

[part 1] [part 2] [part 4] . . .

———————

Acting like nothing had happened earlier today, everyone was sitting by the campfire munching on their food while they all ignored the obvious tension between you and Xavier. They were used to situations like these by now, but for some reason it felt as if something in the two of you changed. You used to give each other angry glares and held those for hours, whereas now you can't even make eye contact for longer than 5 seconds. The tension was slowly shifting throughout this trip, and there was no way of stopping it.

"Hey Enid, what have you got in store for us tomorrow? Please tell me it's not as exhausting as today's hike.", Kent caught everyone's attention.

"That's a surprise. I don't want anyone to complain about the plans I made again, so you'll just have to wait and see. But I'm sure you will all love it, we're gonna have so much fun !", the girl that couldn't hide her excitement said. It was obvious that the group was a bit skeptical about Enid's interpretation of fun, but hopefully this time she's right. What's the worst that could happen?

For the rest of the night everyone was singing along to some campfire songs while Divina was playing the guitar, for just a moment you forgot everything that happened today. You loved moments like these, just you and your friends enjoying each other's company while singing riptide at the top of your lungs. This was the exact reason why you said yes to this trip, these were times you wished would never be over. But all nice things must come to an end, and soon everyone disappeared to their tent once more. Surprisingly enough your tent was quiet for once, neither of you wanting to speak to another. Maybe because you were simply too tired from today's exhausting hike, falling asleep as soon as your head hit your pillow.

Waking up pretty early the next day, you realized you were the first one to be awake. You opened your eyes and turned around to find Xavier laying not so far away from you, a strand of his long hair covering his eyes. He looked quite handsome like this, sadly enough he wasn't always this quiet and peaceful. Remembering what he did to you yesterday, you got up with a smirk as you thought about your great plan to get him back somehow. Sneaking out of the tent as quiet as possible, you grabbed a cup that someone left near the campfire and filled it with lake water. Already giggling to yourself as you walked back to the tent with the cup in your hands, careful not to spill too much water from it already. And just like that, you threw the cup with water over Xavier's head.

Waking up confused and in shock, he looked over to see you sitting next to him dying of laughter. He on the other hand was definitely not laughing with the little prank you pulled on him, instead he pushed himself up and dragged you out of your shared tent. Picking you up in his arms and carrying you towards the lake, you quickly realized what his intentions were.

"You're gonna regret doing that to me.", he said with his deep morning voice. You'd never admit this but you'd be lying if you said he didn't sound a little hot with that voice, or maybe more than just a little.

"Nonono, please don't Xavier.", you tried to convince him not to drop you in the lake.

"Please, I'm begging you.", desperately trying to change his mind you tightly held on to him as you were getting closer and closer to the lake. The word begging caught Xavier's attention, surprised to hear how much you're willing to do just so he wouldn't drop you into the shallow water. Of course he noticed your tight grip on him too, figuring this was more than just something you didn't like. He could even see tears forming in the corner of your eyes, making him feel bad all of a sudden. Seeing you annoyed was like music to his ears, but realizing he caused you actual suffering felt so wrong. He never thought hearing you beg would feel everything but satisfying. Right before you reached the lake, he slowly put you back down on your feet without saying a word. As soon as your toes hit the ground you ran back to the tent and stayed there until it was time to leave for Enid's big surprise.

After a long and not so calming drive you finally reached today's destination, Kent hurrying out of the car the second you made it. His stomach was a little sensitive and all the turns in the mountains didn't help with that at all, but Enid's surprise definitely made him feel better.

"Okay, it's time to reveal the big surprise... We're going kayaking!!", Enid yelled out and the others jumped up with pure excitement. You on the other hand felt your stomach drop as you thought about how terribly wrong this could go. You were terrified of drowning and would much rather avoid anything that could lead to that, so you weren't exactly fond of the thought to go kayaking. But you never told anyone about this, not even your best friend, and you most definitely didn't want anyone to find out about this. You remembered how Enid said she didn't want to hear any complaints about today, so you tried to hide your anxiety building up to not ruin everyone's day but it felt as if your heart was beating outside of your chest.

"All the kayaks are for two people so let's pair up with our tent buddy and get ready to race!"

"We are so winning this.", Ajax spoke while showing everyone his winner pose.

"You don't have a chance against us, Serpent.", Bianca said as she leaned against Kent.

You didn't pay any mind to what the others were saying, too busy trying to process the whole facing-your-biggest-fear thing. While the group was so focused on fighting over who's going to win this race, Xavier was looking at you this entire time. He noticed how anxious you looked and couldn't help but think back about what happened at camp earlier, aware that you're trying to hide something from him. Not wanting to bother you with everyone else still being here, he decided to leave you alone for a bit until the others were gone.

Before you even know, all your friends had left off in their kayak and it was now your turn. Shaking on your legs as you took a couple of deep breaths before stepping into the kayak, Xavier following soon after. He wanted to win this race, hell he wants to win at everything. But he had a feeling he wasn't winning this time, at least not in the way he had hoped for.

"If we want to win this race we better start paddling now."

Xavier was really pushing you over the edge right now. All you needed was a couple more seconds to mentally prepare yourself, but he couldn't even give you that. Ignoring his existence completely, you once again tried to calm down. But that calmness didn't stay for long.

"Can you start moving already? I don't wanna get behind on the others and I'm definitely not planning on doing all the work by myself."

His complaining only fueled your anxiety more and more, ready to burst any moment now. You couldn't help but panic, needing to get out of this kayak and off the water this instant. Unfortunately your kayak had already drifted off a little too far from the shore for you to just get up and walk back. Feeling hopeless and scared, you couldn't help but cry as you were looking for a way to get out of the unsteady kayak.

Xavier froze in his spot as he saw you cry in front of him, he didn't understand what was happening. He might not know what you're so afraid of, but what he was certain of was that your fear was very much real and you needed to calm down asap. Except, you weren't calming down at all. The tears kept rolling down your cheeks, your breathing was unstable and you were shaking so much that the kayak started shaking too. You looked at your reflection in the water, trying to see how deep it was but your tears blurred your vision.

Something in his mind clicked, he needed to get you back to shore immediately. So without any hesitation he jumped out of the kayak, the water coming up to his chest, and picked you up in his arms. He had you cling to him as he carried you over the water, arms tightly wrapped around his neck and nails slightly digging into his skin out of pure fear. It didn't bother him though, he'll allow you to do so if it gives you a more secure feeling.

He didn't pay any mind to the salesman desperately yelling at him to bring back his kayak, to be completely honest he couldn't give two fucks at the moment. All he cared about was you. Yes, you. He couldn't explain why he felt the need to help you for once, he didn't even understand it himself in all honesty. And it sure as hell didn't make any sense to you either, the guy that tries to make your life a living hell suddenly starts being nice to you. There must be something hidden behind his caring behavior, he'll probably strike you with another rude action later. You were sure of it.

Wriggling yourself out of his grip as soon as he got out of the water, you turned around and walked away to hide yourself from everything else behind a large tree. You needed a moment to calm down after what just happened, a moment to just let the tears stream down your face in peace. You felt embarrassed that he out of all people had to witness that, you wished he'd never seen you that way. Certain he'd never let you forget this, he'd bug you with this till the end of time. Or that's what you assumed he'd do. But in reality, Xavier wasn't planning on telling a soul about this. Not because people would find out he did have a heart, but because this wasn't a pleasant experience for you.

It seemed like things had changed in Xavier's dark heart, could it be that he had grown a soft spot for you? Or was this just another trick of him to get your trust, just so he could break it later?

To be continued . . .

———————

Taglist !¡ @wintrr13 @hayleematyas16 @deepblueoceanwaters @purexfuego @loriasposts @princekooks @hope92100 @just-amess @sweaterxav @pookiewookies @lcvecstiel @reading-writing-737 @ahintofvanilla @xavierthropepartner @poison-ivy-737 @rumoured-whispers @honethatty12 @pippipsquirtsquirt @araxw

if you would like to be added to the taglist for campout please let me know in the comments or through asks/dms!

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe fanfic #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe wednesday #xavier fanfic #wednesday fanfic #wednesday imagine #wednesday

173 notes · View notes