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#and thankfully i’m not currently in a position where i need to be making a ton
starbuck · 2 months
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if they paid a living wage, interpretive jobs really would be one of the few kinds of non-evil work in existence… you literally just get to be in a space… and share it with people… crazy…
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doobea · 3 months
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✰⋆⁺★DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC ─ CHOSO KAMO
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synopsis: you're positive that your roommate is a witch. or warlock? wizard? whatever the correct term is.
contents: fluff, gn!reader, reader is a human who can't see cursed spirits, roommate!choso, slight AU where Choso pretends to be a college student but is actually a sorcerer wc: 2K a/n: hello i am somewhat alive... i think? this has been sitting in my drafts for a while idk
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You're not a superstitious person by nature, but there are just some things that you can't help but notice whenever Choso's in the same room.
One: Aside from coming home and smelling like he’s just crawled out of the city sewer like ten times, Choso brings back a lot of weird… vintage accessories — and this is just you being nice, okay?
Sometimes it’s straight up weapons, like swords and medieval looking armor. Other times it’s eerie looking talismans and charms that feel strangely alive whenever you go into his room. And, today, he comes back with a fucking urn of something. You could’ve sworn you heard the jar straight up hiss when you stared at it too long.
He’s not making anything that smells, though, which you’re thankful for.
“Choso,” you call out your roommate’s name and cautiously peer into the kitchen, where he’s currently cooking the damn thing on the stove top. 
“Yeah?” Choso’s back is facing you, the sleeves of his sweater are rolled up to his elbows, and some rock tunes are playing in the background as he’s stirring whatever concoction that’s in the urn with, thankfully, his own utensils. “Did you need something?”
You originally moved to a bigger place when you landed a job out of college. It’s located in the middle of the city, so naturally you found an apartment that’s about a fifteen minute subway ride away, but being in the city meant crazy expenses. Roommate forums are currently extremely popular and not totally sketchy by any means, so that’s how Choso, a PhD candidate, ended up moving into your two bedroom apartment. 
Oh, and he totally justifies all the weird little knick knacks as part of his thesis. You’re definitely going to ask him about it whenever he finishes that up. 
And, weirdly enough, even after six months of living together, there’s an unspoken agreement between the two of you to avoid questions about family members and distant pasts. There are also untouchable topics, like on days where Choso comes back bloody knuckled and bruised, and you kinda respect his boundaries. You do. Because, whether he's actually a PhD student, his personal life is beyond your concern.
You did, however, once asked if you could do a taste test on a similar… DIY recipe Choso created, back in the earlier days when you just thought Choso was weird, and his eyes went wide, a little bit terrified, and shot down your offer immediately. He also made you pinky promise him to never, ever consume or touch anything that he brings home that looks remotely out of place, as he would put it.
But, recently, he isn’t even making an effort to hide these things away.
“I’ll be done with the stove soon, if you need it.” Choso adds when you’re taking a moment too long to reply. He removes the wooden ladle and it’s practically soaked in all red. Whatever’s in that urn… it can’t be just simple tomato sauce. 
The answer dies in your throat as you’re reminded that your health insurance would probably not cover whatever might happen if you offer to watch him… cook? If that’s even what he’s doing.
“Yeah,” you breathe out. “I’m planning to make some noodles tonight, if you want any.” You’re saying this with as little precaution as possible, not trying to offend him because, hey, at the end of the day Choso could be running a research experiment that could also be life changing. At least, that’s what you try and convince yourself.
He turns his head at this and nods with a tired smile, dark bags evident. “That’d be nice,” Choso continues to stir, almost stuck in a trance, before adding, “By the way, have you seen my—”
“Weird glowy talisman with the monkey in the middle? Yeah, somehow it got moved to the coat closet this time,” you say with a casual shrug.
It’s a bit amusing to know that you’ve gotten used to all the accessories he’s brought back. You don’t bother questioning how some of these things also keep getting misplaced around the apartment. Maybe your roommate has a sleepwalking condition, too?
“Oh, I’ve been looking for that everywhere since this morning! Thanks, it’s actually for—”
“Your thesis?” A loud snort slips out when his face drops and flushes a shade darker. 
“Right, yeah, thesis—totally not anything else….”
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Two: Choso’s relatives are definitely not human. Not like you, at least.
There were a few rare times where Choso would come home with someone other than himself. The first time it happened, you nearly pooped yourself from the sight alone. Your roommate stumbled back nearly shirtless, clothes almost in rags, bruises marred every visible inch of his body, and he was unconscious while leaning onto a younger man who was in similar condition.
You nearly fought with a complete stranger, who was equally acting as weird as Choso, about calling the police and sending your roommate to a hospital for treatment instead of resting on the thrifted IKEA couch you got off a shitty marketplace forum. 
The man, who introduced himself as Yuuji, refused and even threw a couple of bribes your way to keep quiet about the whole thing. And, while you never really suspected whether your roommate is secretly affiliated with gangs, you were honestly so close to breaking your lease and finding another place, maybe another job, somewhere far away so you don’t have to deal with whatever Choso goes through.
Choso makes a brief comment after that event, something along the lines of ‘needing to clean up after work’ and ‘sorry, our centrifuge malfunctioned’. You seriously begin to start questioning the academic integrity behind everything at this point. Just what kind of thesis is he working on?
In the end, you two don’t talk about it and you barely see Yuuji after that — well, until tonight. 
Yuuji happened to be around the area, showing up to your apartment in a similar, but not too extreme, condition as last time you’ve remembered. Less scratches, minimal tear to his clothes, but still managing to throw half ass bribes your way to ‘keep things quiet’, which earned him an earful from Choso. And, from that conversation, it turns out that Yuuji and him are half brothers. Outside of how they interact with each other, you really can’t see the resemblance at all. 
Somehow, despite all of this, you feel slightly better compared to the first time when Yuuji arrived. Whatever they’re doing, it must be kinda safe, since they still have their brain cells intact. 
“I hope you still have extras,” Yuuji muffles out as he scoops up another mouthful of noodles from his already overflowing bowl. Choso’s currently fighting the urge to wipe Yuuji’s sauce painted cheeks clean, you can easily tell by the deep furrow on his face. 
“Yuuji,” you’re trying so hard to not sound rude when you say this, and point at the empty container on the stove top. “You’ve already gone through four servings and the bread sticks, I don’t even have enough in the fridge for lunch tomorrow.” Seriously, does this guy have an infinite stomach?
Not to mention, the bruises and cuts from his cheeks earlier have all entirely faded away by the time you finished setting the dining table. Yuuji’s superhuman strength and tenacity alone is something suspicious, too. It was the fact that Yuuji effortlessly lifted up the couch with one hand when his phone slid under or the fact that he drank from Choso’s weird concoction earlier and is still thriving.
Choso, too. Because he also did a fucking taste test and you could’ve sworn on your life that the strange broth started to bend whenever he hovered his fingers over it. He’s always had a distinct smell of blood, and there’s always a vibe of something not-right about him.
Yeah, there’s no way in hell that they’re both human. 
And, if they are, you’re going to eat your shorts.
But that’s besides the point.
“Did you actually?” Choso blinks a few times. 
The younger male makes a strangled noise, most likely out of the fact he lost track of just how many portions he consumed, and flashes you an apologetic smile behind all of his tomato smeared lips. “Sorry… I’ll make it up to you later?”
Though, despite the non-human traits that both of them show, you can’t deny that they’re pleasant to be around. Right now, Yuuji is definitely radiating golden retriever energy right now with his pouting lips and big pleading eyes. How can anyone say no to that?
Choso has helped you out every now and then with weird blessings and strange hand movements that somehow always gets rid of cramps on your shoulders. That’s gotta be witchcraft in itself. Oh, and he always takes out the trash, that’s a bonus to have. 
“Just bring dinner over next time,” you suggest, which earns you a strange look from your roommate across the table. Oh, wait, wouldn’t that be crossing personal boundaries? “Or you can just do delivery, it doesn’t really—”
“No, it’s fine,” Choso spits out, stirring the remaining noodles on his plate back and forth with his fork. He has a strange expression on his face that you can’t quite make out. “I don’t mind.”
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Three: Choso can see things that you can’t. And you kinda prefer to keep it that way.
You should probably be used to these things by now. There’s certain odd occurrences that come hand-in-hand when rooming with Choso. The most alarming one you can possibly think of is the strange mumblings you would hear sometimes from his room. It’s… well been apparent to you since day one but, again, not really your business to pry.
Tonight has been a strange string of events and you’ve never seen Choso so… comfortable showing you a glimpse of his personal life. 
You’re not sure what prompted you to join Choso on his walk with Yuuji to the train station late at night. You should be in bed, getting ready for work tomorrow, not out accompanying your not-so-human roommate and his brother. It’s nearly midnight and you need to catch the train earlier than usual because of a stupid work conference and not get yourself into weird supernatural events. What if next time they both mark a demon summoning circle in the bathroom, or you get home to ghouls in your kitchen, or—
“Something bothering you?”
You scream, and promptly hit the nearest object near you out of fear, which happened to be Choso, but he stops your fist with his palm as if it were a paper airplane. 
“Hey,” he softly calls out your name and eyes you, creeping closer until his shoulders are bumping into yours. “Stay still for a second…”
“W-What?” You swallow around a dry tongue, laughing nervously at the lack of distance. 
But Choso has an unreadable look in his eyes, like he’s focused on something else, a look he always puts on whenever he’s anxious and peering out the apartment windows many times at night. Waiting for the right moment for… something. Then, after a long, stretching pause, he raises his arms and pulls you into a tight embrace that leaves you with more questions than anything else.
“Um, h-hello?!”
“It’ll be over in just a second,” Choso says, still deep in focus.
But you notice how intimate the position is. Your chests are nearly pressed together, your foreheads are, and you can absolutely smell the remnants of dinner from his mouth. Eventually, Choso shifts away and untangles himself from you, wiping his fingers off on the bottom of his shirt. He looks content with himself, hands on his hips.
You’re not sure what the hell just happened, but now that weird mind haze from earlier is slowly fading away, and you’re realizing that being hugged by your weird roommate feels way too good.
“Are you like… Merlin or something?”
Yeah, you’re positive that he’s some sort of wizard at this point.
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© 2023 DOOBEA. do not copy any of my writing and translate/repost.
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aliorsboxostuff · 1 year
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PLEASE PLEASE BLESS ME WITH A TANGERINE X M!READER FIC🙏🧎‍♂️I just watch the the movie and god I fell hard
A/N: ABSOLUTELY YES ANON! I remembered my first time watching Bullet Train and seeing that man and going ‘yeah I NEED him.’ Glad we all agreed huh? Thank you so much anon for requesting our boy Tangerine, I hope you enjoy this fic.
Nothing specified so I’m giving Reader a caring but sassy personality. Here, you and Tangerine are already dating, and you’re working with Tangerine and Lemon on a mission. You’re assigned as their handler, working in a remote hotel, away from the boys. You get the codename Orchid to protect your anonymity (Per Tangerine’s request when you joined the organization). I’m gonna add a BIT of angst, just for the plot I promise! But the rest will be fluff! Enjoy all <3
Come Home
tags: Male-Handler!Reader, Maria is also here for support!, established relationship, dialogue-heavy, Lemon the amazing brother™, mission fic, fluff, praises, hurt/comfort, I promise the hurt is not a lot 
The mission was supposed to go smoothly; get the boys into the ball, get the intel, then get the fuck out and spend the rest of your weekend with your boyfriend in the comfort of your house. But one explosion led to another and now you’re scrambling in search of Lemon and Tangerine. 
— 
“Right, you boys ready?” The comms crackle as you adjust your camera settings. 
“Course we are,” Lemon cheers. “Ain’t we Tan?”
“Yeah yeah, just-” You heard fabric being shuffled before Tangerine continued. “This bullet vest is ruining ma’ suit,” 
“For the last time; no. You are wearing that vest, no excuses.” You huffed, moving your camera position to the room where the brothers are standing. The hotel desk you’re on supports all four of your monitors, thankfully not bending from the weight. You needed as many grounds as you could constantly cover in order to keep the two safe, hence the many camera’s you've got locked on. On the screen, you could see your boyfriend annoyingly pulling at the straps of the vest while Lemon holds a chuckle.
“But- Oh come on love, you can see me!” He turns to a camera, coincidently the one you're currently on. “I look ridiculous!”
“You’ll look even more ridiculous coming home with another bullet wound through your neck. Now get to it,” You heard Lemon finally laughing before his brother shoved at his shoulder. The two only fell into a bicker about you being right and Tangerine worrying at his stretch dress shirt.
“Boys.” You sigh, making them momentarily pause. “The mission?” 
“Right yeah-”
“Yeap got it sir-” You quirked a brow at Tangerine’s answer but before you could interject the two had already exited the closet room and into the hotel halls. That’s another subject for another night.
The agents enter a spacious ballroom, chandeliers of different sizes with gold accents above their heads, royalty decorations around the room, and guests of various importance between the two undercover boys. You follow the twins as they make their way to the refreshments table. You glance at where the target is; an old guy that got roped into some unfortunate trading agreements. You're pretty sure the gramps doesn't even know what he signed, given his predecessor is his selfish grandchild who wants to take over his business. The mission is to get as much intel about said business before booking up and setting the establishment aflame; that part you were unsure of the reason why, but a mission is a mission you supposed. 
The target is currently speaking to a group of conglomerates, undoubtedly his grandchild is right behind him, ushering the old man around like a puppy to flaunt. 
"Tan on your three," Your boyfriend nods. He placates a charming smile, his moustache twitches slightly when he smooths down his suit, before making his way into the crowd with a glass of champagne, mask in place. He strikes up a conversation with the man, asking polite questions and answering accordingly. 
You left him to his own devices, trusting him to retrieve the intel needed. You changed your cameras to follow Lemon who's currently in the boiler room, a basement of sorts underground just beneath the ballroom. He's currently focusing on setting up the wires for the remote bomb, crouched facing away from you. 
“Is it going good Lemon?”
“Almost done mate, a little more,” You nodded, turning to your other monitor, back to surveying Tangerine. 
The night continued as so before half an hour passed and Lemon and Tangerine has recuperated at a far table in the back, eyes on the ballroom floor while you talked through the comms.
“Old fella answered all of ma’ questions like a survey,”
“There’s no way the kid didn't notice,” Lemon grins into his drink. 
“Oh pretty sure he did-”
“Did you see the way he was eyeing you? It’s so-”
“Don't remind me, felt so uncomfortable I was gonna straight up puke-”
“If I get my hands on that little shit-” You growled, making Tan chuckle into the coms. 
“I’m flattered Orchid dear, do protect my dignity-”
“God you two, when are we leaving anyways?” You spotted Lemon rolling his eyes at Tangerine. You laughed. From the voice file Tangerine sent back through his comms, you’ve gathered the intel accordingly and sent it back to headquarters. Another minute of bantering before they confirmed the files. You smiled. 
“Fellas,” Your mic crackles. “Seems like that’s all for tonight,” 
The brothers sighed in relief, Lemon slamming down his cup while Tan sleeks back a fallen curl. Behind the glowing screen, you’re relieved knowing you guided them into and from another successful mission, getting the two home safely. Especially relieved to have Tangerine back in your arms instead of in front of a surveillance camera. Your phone lights up with a notification from the extraction team. Your smile widens. 
“I’ll be waiting at the extraction point, in the meantime, we-” Your camera feed shakes suddenly. “Boys?”
“Shit!” Lemon's voice crackles.
“Lemon we gotta-” You barely made out Tan's voice behind the muffled screams and shouts from his mic. The surveillance feed cuts off one by one, from the boiler room to the main ballroom, until what barely left is the image of Lemon and Tangerine back to back trying to exit the building. You hurried to the building's blueprints you displayed and went over them.
“There should be a back door near the kitchen, to the left from-” The camera feed dies. Your breath hitches, immediately focusing on Tan’s voice in your ear.
“Tan you there?!”
“Yeah! Yea we’re alright-” Sounds of crashes and multiple debris falling. What the fuck is going on?
“Alright like I said go to your left and to-”
“FUCK! God, shit!” Lemon shouts into your left ear, you cringe from the volume.
“Lemon! Fuck no no-” You heard a shuffling of fabric before his audio cuts off, and so does Lemons. 
The silence stretches. The room you're in is eerily silent, nothing but your bated breath. Your pounding heart practically screams as nothing comes up from your screens or headphones. You tried to inhale but everything feels too much, too little, too everything. Your hand scurries over your phone and dials Tangerine’s number. It beeps. No answer. You tried the same with Lemons. Voicemail. 
Nothing comes up from your screens. Nothing crackles into your ear. Lemons joking quips, your boyfriend's soothing voice, nothing. Fuck. 
You quickly contacted the extractions team and every other agent in their general vicinity, anyone close to where the building was. Anyone or anything that could identify what the fuck happened to your boys. If you had to turn the world around its axis to find them then that'll be the last thing you’ll do.
It took 2 days.
2 days of relentless searching, nights spent on your monitors and phone, calls and contacting agents and other handlers in the organization. You've successfully dug up the reason behind the massive explosion; it wasn't Lemons timed bomb that malfunctioned but rather a third party that sabotaged the whole mission. A hired assassin by someone that held a grudge against the business that the family-owned. They planted a bomb in order to take out both the gramps and the kid, instead taking multiple casualties and 2 missing agents. Your agents. Your closest friends. Your Tangerine. 
“You okay?” You blink, reminded that you're on a call with Maria. Despite being in a different organization, you knew her from way before she joined, in college, or somewhere along those lines. It wasn't a surprise seeing her brilliant mind joining an underground government organization. The handler has been helping you look for the boys. She said it was out of courtesy but you knew it was the guilt of being a Handler; losing your agent is the most painful experience any handler could go through.
“Y-yeah sorry,” You heard her sigh. “Really I'm okay just- worried.” 
“I know kid,” Clacking can be heard from her. “Wasn't your fault,”
“How- how didn't I know that was gonna happen…”
“Orchid. That’s not your job and you know it,” She bites. “Providing the mission's basic information is those desk nerds jobs, not yours. Your job is to look after the boys and make sure they don't end up on their backs, with the intel you’ve been given.”
Maria does have a point. Apparently, nobody in the organization knew about the bombing. Not other agents, not the ones giving you your basics, not anyone. No one would have known that would happen. Suddenly another call comes through. An unknown number. 
“Hold on Maria, someone on the line,” 
“Go ahead,”
Unknown numbers could be from other agents or handlers undercover. At this point, you need all the information you could get. You answered the call, before a familiar voice almost made you snap.
“Lemon!” You shouted, the man groaned before he chuckled.
“Keep it down won't ya? Kind of laying low right now mate,”
“Wha- How- Are you-” He laughs again, this time sounding genuine.
“Before you stumble on yerself, yea, I’m alright,” He sighs. “With another agent right now, safe in their safe house. Got myself patched up, all fine Orchid,” 
You physically deflate. Nothing sounds more soothing than Lemon reassuring you about his condition, about where he is right now.
“Oh thank fuck you’re okay,” You smile, taking a mental note to ask where the safe house is so you can send an extraction team. “And Tan? He’s okay too, right?”
The call went silent. Not again.
“Lemon? He is okay… Right? Let me talk to him I cant reach hi-” 
“He’s not with me.” What. 
“W-what do you mean?” Lemon huffs, a mix of tiredness and worry. 
“I don't know where he is. When the bomb went off, we separated. Haven't seen him since,” 
You inhaled sharply. Exhaled. Inhaled. Anything to subdue the sharp sting in your lungs, the feeling of a thousand needles being swallowed because Tangerine is still fucking missing. Now ways to contact him, not a single person knowing where he is.
“Fuck…” You breathed.
“I’m sorry, I really am, I wished i-”
“No no, Lemon don't. Don't apologize. Nobody knew about this. It’s not your fault,”
“Yeah but he’s my brother! I should’ve gone with him, protected him, i-”
“Hey, hey man it's okay. It's alright. What matters now is you’re safe, alright?” You reached for your keyboard while holding the phone. “Where are you right now? I can send an extraction team to take you back to base so-”
3 solid knocks on your hotel door. You stopped.
“Expecting company?” Lemon chirps.
“No…”
Slowly, you lowered your phone and rose from your seat. Your hand automatically reaches for the handgun under your pillow, tucking it safely to your side as you made strides to the door. Peering out of the peephole, you almost dropped the gun in shock.
“TANGERINE!” You pulled the door open to a very shocked, and very bloodied boyfriend. You quickly brought him inside, sat him on the bed, and scurries over to your med kid.
“How- Where the fuck have you been?!” You kneeled in front of him, hands cradling his bruised face, hair askew, prominent eye bags. There's a long wound that starts from just under his left eye to his jaw.
“I missed you too love,” Tangerine has the audacity to smile. You hold back the urge to punch him. 
“You were missing for two days Tan! Two whole days! I couldn't- there wasn't a way to contact you and when Lemon finally called he wasn't with you and i- I didn't know what to do I just-” A sob breaks through. Droplets land on your boyfriend's cheeks, his eyes grow in size. You tried to inhale but instead your breath hitches when he presses his hand on yours, utterly breaking the emotional dam you’ve built for the past days without him. 
“I thought I lost you,” It only takes a tug for you to fall to your boyfriend's shoulder as he pulls you close, your arms wrapped around him while he holds you. He runs a soothing hand on your back, patting your head gently as you cried, your tears no doubt staining the remains of his suit. He brings his hands to hold your face, trails of your tears run down your cheeks, before he presses his lips to yours, firm and consuming, reassurance.
“I’m sorry,” You managed between kisses. “I'm so sorry,”
“Don't apologize, love,” He kisses your crown. Your arms still around his body as he held your face. “Not your fault, nobody knew about it,” 
“I’m just…” Dark blue stares into yours, enveloping you in the warmth expanse of it. You sigh, a smile tugs at your lips. “I’m glad you’re home,”
“Happy to be home my dear,” He grins. “Now it’s not like I don't enjoy our cuddles but my chest hurts and-”
“Fuck! Yeah right sorry Tan,” You laugh breathlessly, he does too. He’s back. He’s home. God, his smile, his eyes, his adorably fluffy hair. He’s back.
You quickly reach for the med kit you carelessly threw to the side when your phone keeps buzzing from where you left it. “Oi is that my bro? Is it?! Tan! Tangerine is that you?!” 
“What? Lemon?” Tangerine swivels from where he’s sat, turning to search for his brother's voice. You picked up the phone to see he hadn't ended the call and laughed. 
“Here,” Tan reaches for the phone, his face lights up. “Think this must be-”
“Lemon!” He cheers. You shook your head as you readied the bandages and alcohol. “Mate where in the bloody hell have you been?!”
“Me? Mother fucker where have you been?! I’m safe in a fuckin’ safe house with a bird here an-”
“Wait where? We got a safe house out here?”
“Nah I’m with an agent- pretty gal y’know she really patched me up-”
“Oh thank fuck you’re alright-”
“Yeah I am and you went all gone and bonkers in two days!”
“Mate I didn't mean to split up- ouch!” You applied the disinfectant to a wound on his arm. He winces before staring at you with a raised brow. 
“Do you wanna get fixed or not?” You raised your own brow at which Tan slumps and extends more of his arm. 
“Yes,” he huffs, which makes you chuckle.
“Good, now continue your conversation with Lemon while I clean you,”
He does just that. Tangerine continues with Lemon, argues and laughing and reassures his brother while you bandaged a wound on his arm, addressed the cuts on his face—which proved challenging since he constantly talked, making you hold his face in place which resulted in a pout—and stitched up a cut on his shoulder. Tangerine almost screamed your phone off when you did the stitches despite your earlier warnings. Finally, once you’ve checked off any broken bones, bruises, any other gaping wounds, you deemed your boyfriend fit for a wipe down. 
“Right, you’re done?” Tangerine nods as he gives you back your phone before signing off to Lemon. Throughout the call, he has secured his brother's position and should be able to send a team tomorrow. You packed up the med kit, placing it back in your suitcase. “Let's get your suit off and into the bath,”
He nods, already in the process of taking off his suit jacket. The piece is slightly tattered, tears and holes in places, burn marks in the fabric. Though it used to be one of Tangerine’s favorite suits, he’d have to let it go since it's unsalvageable. He threw the jacket, dress shirt, bullet vest, and pants on the sink. 
You made sure the temperature of the bath is warm enough for him to slip in before adding a few vanilla bath scents. “Go ahead hun, I’ll get some spare clothes,”
No Tangerine didn't plan on staying with you hence he brought no clothes with him. No, you weren't expecting your boyfriend to be spending the night with you so you didn't pack his clothes. Though, Tan has a tendency to walk around in one of your oversized jumpers, claiming its ‘his rights’ to steal from his boyfriend who buys too many massive sweaters. Lucky for him, you packed one of your softest ones, and some sleep pants would do. You walk back into the bathroom to see Tangerine's head relaxed against the wall, arms on the side of the tub, mindful of his bandages and stitches. 
“Better?” You sat next to him, rubbing slightly on his arm. He sighs, head turning to meet your eyes.
“So much better sweetheart,” You chuckle, continuing to massage his upper arm. “Thank you Orchid,”
“No Tangerine, thank you for returning to me in one piece,” You swore you saw his blue eyes melt. He smiles, turning slightly to kiss your knuckles, keeping his eyes on you. “I’m so proud of you,” You didn't miss the way his cheeks bloomed red. 
Before the water runs cold, you manage to clean your boyfriend by using a warm towel. He even lets you wash his hair—though not with the products provided by the hotel, he insists on only using your shampoo because it's the same brands as his, with the added bonus of smelling like you at which you blushed at—and run warm water from his head down to his body. Once warm, clean, and dry, he pulls himself into the clothes you provided, growing red once he notices the article.
“You brought your sweater?” The man looks ridiculous with the sweater engulfing his frame, hiding defined arms beneath it. He still hasn't pulled on the pants you gave him, leaving the expanse of his legs out in the open, a sliver of his boxers peeking from the hem of the jumper. You gulp as your eyes trail the muscles of his thigh, quickly snapping yourself from the idea and instead pulling your boyfriend closer. He raises a brow at which you chuckle.
“Yeah I did,” Your hand smoothies the fabric near his exposed clavicle. “Was gonna wear it, though…” Your hand tightens at his hips making Tangerine arch to your chest. “You fit in it much better than I do,” 
Tangerine visibly reddens before he pushes at your chest. “Oh fuck off!” He chuckles. His laugh is contagious as you too followed and laughed, resting your hand above his.
“You do though, my pretty darling,”  Tangerine grins when you bring him close again, pressing your lips on his, he hums. His lips move softly against yours, a brush of his stache is enough to make you groan and dives back in to savor your boyfriend's taste. His hands fists into your shirt before you finally pull back for a breath.
“Sleep,” His eyes are half-lidded, staring into you with a charming twinkle. You smile, moving the comforter to let Tangerine slip in first before you follow behind him, cradling the man while you rest your head atop his curls. Tangerine swore hell and back he’s the big spoon in the relationship and at most times, he’s right. But he settles peacefully between your arms when he’s gone without you by his side, Tangerine smiles into the pillow. Your arms tighten around his middle, breathing in the scent of him, of Tangerine, before your anxiety dissipates enough for you to settle into sleep with him in your arms.
My requests are open! <3
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rosesoflilac · 9 months
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And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you dear.
Summary: MC's experience buying Taylor Swift tickets in the Devildom <3
pairing: lucifer x mc, mentions of levi and other characters
genre: fluff, some kissing, not proofread!!
a/n: i wanted to write something but have had no inspo until i realized i can combine my girlie taylor and my current game obsession together. look forward to different obey me and taylor content in the future!!
Everyone in the Devildom knew that there was only one person that you held above everyone else, even above the demon brothers, the demon prince, and their demon boyfriend. You would always find a way to mention this person, to spread their influence, no matter what. You believed that the Denizens hearing her sing, hearing her lyrics, would be a positive influence as it was in her life.
You loved Taylor Swift. Really, really loved her.
When you found out about the Eras Tour (Levi totally did not assist with jailbreaking your secret D.D.D.) you completely freaked. You had secured tickets to Loverfest before Barbatos teleported them to the Devildom (if it was never canceled, all demons would feel the wrath of a thousand suns). This was your chance to make the past right.
First, you needed a plan of attack. The first step was to get the seal of approval from Lord Diavolo and Lucifer. You imagined this would go smoothly and might include some coaxing, but you would be able to gain their permission. Then, they would get every brother, angel, and sorcerer to sign up for presale codes. The final step would be to wait, hope, and pray to any higher power out there.
You wanted this more than anything. To see the artist that got them through teenage angst, breakups, the growing pains, would be the greatest thing to experience, ever. The thought alone makes pressure build-up behind your eyes. You’d be able to do this.
Thankfully, everything went smoothly. Permission was granted, and various emails and phone numbers were signed up for presale. Waiting was the only wrong thing about the situation. You just wanted the anxious feeling to go away.
Lucifer picked up on your signs of stress. The nervous checking of your phone, the slip in your grades. He understood how badly you wanted this, how that made you nervous. It was similar to how Levi acted when waiting for the release of a limited special edition Ruri-chan collectible. Levi would lock himself away in his room and obsess. Lucifer has his whole faith in you that you would be able to secure tickets. He does not want to contemplate what would happen if you were unable to, he’d imagine it would rival one of Levi’s episodes.
Lucifer’s concern is how you ended up sitting on his bed between his legs as he worked on your shoulders. It was the night before you found out about ticket presale codes… And you were stressed. That stress slowly melted away as you leaned into Lucifer’s gentle, yet firm, touches.
He rubbed at the middle of your back where it felt tense. You hummed your appreciation and leaned back into him more, wanting to give him a break. “Thank you for this. I needed it.”
Lucifer hummed back, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as his arms slowly moved to wrap around your body. “Everything is going to be alright. I know you love her and want this, but I hate to see how it affects your health, my love.”
Your heart dropped a little, feeling the worry in your voice. “I promise I’m okay. I just… She means a lot to me. I would not be the person I am without her. Her music helped me get through so many tough times, even happy times… Especially with the last couple of years. The thought of being able to sing with her in person makes me so happy and I want to protect that happiness with all of my heart.” You squeezed his arms and shifted around to face him, taking his face in your hands, you smiled. “She even helped me realize my love for you. I didn’t want to tell you, but I have a whole playlist of songs that remind me of you, of us.” You looked into his ruby eyes as a blush crept up your face.
Lucifer’s eyes filled with love as he pulled you into a soft kiss, “You are special to me too. I’d like to hear these songs one day. But for now, you need rest for tomorrow.”
You kissed him back happily, leaning into him as he pulled you to lie down. Everything would be alright if Lucifer was by your side.
The following day was a whirlwind of events. Levi allowed you to use his setup, as it was much faster (also in exchange for rare Ruri merchandise), and now all you had to do was wait…
And wait you did..
Levi anxiously watched the screen and you. He understood how important this was to you and had been in this very exact situation multiple times- he had complete faith in you, unlike himself. However, that line was not budging. Until it finally did.
Everything happened so quickly. You searched and searched for six floor seats or a lower bowl- or literally any seat. It wouldn’t matter as long as you got to be there. Soon enough, you got the tickets and life was not real.
You immediately squealed and looked at Levi with a big grin and hugged him tightly, catching the otaku off guard. You screamed and laughed and danced as you ran to grab your D.D.D. to inform Lucifer.
He picked up before the phone had the chance to ring. Lucifer desperately wanted to be there with you but had other duties to attend to. He had been checking his phone every couple of minutes to see if you texted him an update.
Accepting the call, Lucifer stepped outside of his meeting and was met with your face filling the screen. You had tears in your eyes and a big grin on your face, he couldn’t help but smile at your reaction. He was so happy for you.
“It felt like forever! I swear- I can’t believe I’m going, that we are going!! Together!! Life is so not real right now.” Your voice was full of energy as you continued to recount the past few hours of your life.
“I’m very happy for you, my love. You deserve to go and I’m happy you want me to experience this with you.” Lucifer looked at his watch quickly, “I’m sorry but I have to go back to my meeting. We’ll have dinner tonight, the two of us, when I get home. I love you.” Lucifer smiled at you as you repeated the words back to him. Lucifer agreed that life was “so not real” but because he got to experience it with you.
Walking back into the conference room, he began thinking of all the travel you and he would be doing in the next year. Of course, he wouldn’t let you just go to one concert now, would he?
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Defense
Summary: Everyone Knows AU, Sam discovers Danny's new friendship, and Tucker does his best to deal with the fallout.
...
Tucker is not surprised that Sam is a big fan of the Phantom dummies.  He also isn’t surprised when Vlad sets them up without waiting for an answer, but he is a little surprised when Vlad pitches them to Sam as Tucker’s idea.  He doesn’t ask.  Something tells him it won’t go over well.
Smallest of all mercies, most of the time Tucker can ignore them.  Valerie’s suggestion that they needed to train in more dynamic environments was a fair one, and Tucker tends to find it better for everyone if he takes to that advice more than Vlad’s advice about… well, he spends a lot of time in the forest now, is the point.  Sam does too, but while Tucker spends a lot of time in the forest, Sam is currently spending all of her free time in the forest practicing.
…It’s worrying him.  Not even for the obvious reason, though that too.  This time it has more to do with the fact that Tucker is almost positive she isn’t getting enough sleep.  Or food.  Or… breathing.
And today, Tucker is positive, is not going to help.
Last night, Phantom had gotten in a fight with Technus at the Amity Park Mall.  It had been more destructive than usual, and a couple people had gotten minor injures from getting caught in the crossfire.
Tucker gets a slight reprieve in that he makes it to school before Sam does.  He finds Danny leaning against what seems like a random locker, and it catches him off guard enough that he walks over.
“Hey,” he says, and tries not to wince when Danny turns a wary gaze on him.  He’s also clearly not doing much better than Tucker knows he was yesterday.
A second later, however, he relaxes slightly.  “Hey Tuck,” he says.  “Where’s Sam?”
“Dunno,” Tucker says, looking over his shoulder.  “She’s not here yet, I guess.”
Danny nods, then looks back down the hallway towards the doors.  But he doesn’t look full of dread, so he can’t be looking for Sam.
“Why are you hanging out here?” Tucker says.  “Doesn’t Dash like to pummel you if you stand in one place too long before class?”
“Or after class, or ever,” Danny says with a small smile.  “Nah I’m… waiting for someone.”
Tucker gives him a curious look.  “Someone?  This isn’t Jazz’s locker.”
Danny hesitates.  “No,” he agrees.
“So who are you waiting for?”
“Uh…”
The door at the end of the hallway slams open, and the person decidedly neither of them is waiting for storms in.
Sam marches right over towards them, and wastes approximately no time before jumping in with, “Did you hear Phantom hurt a little kid last night?” she snaps, leaning back against the locker with a loud bang.
Tucker looks down at his bag, and moves like he’s digging it open to look for something important.
Danny sighs and leans back against the same locker he was standing by before.  “No.”
“Well he did,” Sam says, crossing her arms.  “Honestly, if he can’t bother to be careful, how is he any better for this town than the other ghost’s he fights?  Right, Tucker?”
Tucker jerks upright.  “What?”
Sam shifts so Danny can’t see her, narrows her eyes and glares at him.  “Right?” she repeats.
Tucker leans away from her, and thankfully, the warning bell rings before he can give a reply.
Sam gives him one last glare and then stalks off to her first period.
Danny sighs, looks back at the locker one last time, and then starts off towards their shared algebra class.
Tucker hesitates a second, but then Danny looks back at him like he expects him to follow, so Tucker does.
“Does she ever talk about anything else these days?” slips out of Tucker’s mouth before he can help it.  He winces, glad Sam isn’t around anymore.
Danny smiles a little, though it doesn’t reach his eyes.  “Nah, but she’s always been like that,” he says.
Tucker turns to stare at him.  “What are you talking about?”  Sam has not always been like this.  Tucker spends ages trying to reconcile this Sam with the one who used to light up when she spotted Danny across a room.
Danny turns to look at Tucker like he’s being weird.  “Uh, have you met her?  She’s this passionate about everything.  Remember the time she fought for weeks to change the lunch menu?  Or that time she let the gorilla out of its cage in the zoo?  Or the time she fought to save all of the frogs from being dissected in class?  If she comes up with something she thinks will make the world better, she sticks with it and sticks with it until it’s done.”  He looks down, and the smile drops from his face.  “It’s actually one of the things I really love about her,” he says quietly.
Tucker looks down and tightens his grip on his backpack.  He can’t breathe right.
He doesn’t think Sam would be very happy if he explains to Danny that her thing with Phantom isn’t a passion like changing the lunch menu was a passion.
What he wouldn’t give for Sam to get passionate about lunch menus again.
The second bell rings just as he and Danny make it into class, and Tucker shakes the thought away as best he can.
Tucker finds out who Danny was waiting for that morning against lunch.  Sam gets to the table first, and Tucker watches Danny walk as slowly as he seems capable of over towards their table from the second he walks in the room.
Sam glances over her shoulder when she sees Tucker looking at something behind her, and though she wasn’t speaking at all before now, she turns back around and says, “I just don’t understand how that Mom still thinks he’s a hero when he’s the reason her daughter got hurt,” Sam says, like they’d been in the middle of a conversation before Danny showed up.  “You know what I mean?”
Danny sits down next to Tucker, positioning himself as far away from Sam as possible.
“You know what I mean, Tucker?” Sam repeats, and Tucker turns to her in surprise.
Sam narrows her eyes at him, and Tucker sneaks a glance at Danny to find him poking at his food and keeping his gaze very decidedly away from Sam.
“Uh, I don’t know,” Tucker says anyway.
Sam narrows her eyes and opens her mouth, but before she can say anything a familiar voice calls “Hey, Danny!”
All three of them turn in surprise to find Valerie approaching the table.
“Hey,” Valerie says, sliding in to the table right next to Danny.  “Are you free to talk about those book reports we have to write?”
“Uh, sure,” Danny says, and before Tucker can even ask what Valerie’s doing here or what she’s talking about, she grabs Danny by the arm and pulls them both up and away from the table.  Danny manages to grab his bag before they do, but then Valerie pulls them out of the lunch room and out of sight.
Tucker blinks after them for another second.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Sam growls, and Tucker turns immediately to her, feeling something in his chest curl up in dread.
“Hey,” he says before Sam can say anything else.  “I’ve got an idea.”
Sam turns to glare at him.  “What?”
“How about we… don’t care?  And let Valerie make her own choices and decisions?”
Sam stares at him.  “She obviously doesn’t know, Tucker,” she spits.
“I mean yeah, I just thought—”
“Well don’t bother.  Come on, we have to do something,” Sam snaps, grabbing Tucker by the arm and yanking them both up from the table.  They get a couple of stares as they leave, and Tucker tries not to shrink under them.
Valerie and Danny are both down a side hallway, meaning Sam can stop dragging Tucker behind her right before the corner and listen to what they’re saying.
“Sorry for the suddenness,” Valerie says.  “You looked like you wanted out of there.”
“What, no I’m fine,” Danny says, though Tucker can hear the obvious hesitation in his voice.  He looks away from Sam.
“Sure, that’s why you were staring down at the table looking miserable,” Valerie says, and Tucker winces.
“No no, that’s… unrelated,” Danny says weakly.  Valerie snorts.
“Look, come with me.  I know a spot we can eat alone and no one’ll find us,” she says.  Tucker’s eyes widen, and he grabs Sam by the arm and pulls her back towards the lunchroom as quickly as they can.
Thankfully, they make it inside without being caught.  Tucker just manages to ignore the stares of the people around them as they walk back to their still empty usual table and sit down.
“I knew it,” Sam hisses, smacking her hands down on the table.  “They are friends.  He tricked Valerie somehow!”
Tucker doesn’t say anything.
“Tucker,” Sam says, clearly trying to get his attention.  “We have to get her away from him.  I’m going to need your help.”
“Oh, now you care about Valerie,” Tucker snaps before he realizes what he’s saying.
Sam blinks at him, caught off guard.  “What?”
Tucker glares down at the table, lets out a harsh sigh, and then stands up.  Then he picks up his backpack and storms out of the lunchroom.
He doesn’t have the energy for Sam today.
He ends up at the training grounds in hope of avoiding her, since she’s there less often now.  He’s pretty sure he beats the best time on the ceiling course three times over, though he’s not really keeping track.
But apparently, not one second of his life can be even the slightest bit easy anymore, because after less than half an hour there alone, Sam shows up.
“Hey,” she says.  Tucker ignores her and keeps at the punching bags he’s moved over to.
“I was looking for you,” Sam says.
“I don’t care,” Tucker snaps.
“What the hell is wrong with you today?”
“You!  You’re what’s wrong with me!” Tucker whirls to face her, gesturing wildly at her.  “You just— all the time I can’t—”
“Woah, slow down,” Sam says, crossing her arms.  “You need to chill.”
“I need to chill?”
“Uh, yeah, if it’s going to affect us working together,” Sam says.  “We need to get Valerie away from Danny.”
“That’s it?  That’s what you care about, working together to isolate Danny?”
Sam rolls her eyes.  “You don’t have to put it that way, stupid.”
“Oh I’m sorry, were you thinking about it a different way?” Tucker pulls up his ecto gun on his wrist without bothering with the rest of the suit.  He blasts the punching bag right off its hook in the ceiling, sending it crashing towards the other wall.  It doesn’t do much in regards to getting out his anger.
“Think about it however you want, whatever means you’ll actually get off your butt and do it,” Sam snaps.
Tucker glares over his shoulder at her.  “So that really is all you care about, then?”
“That’s what’s important,” Sam says, putting her hands on her hips.  “Am I supposed to care about something else?”
Tucker shakes his head.  “What was he doing that’s so dangerous to Valerie, Sam?  Arguing that he’s not miserable around us when he clearly is?  Accepting her invitation to go eat lunch alone?”
“Uh, yes.  Who knows what kind of things he’ll do if he gets her alone!”
“Spy on them, then.  You didn’t seem to have a problem before we learned Danny was Phantom, why is it suddenly off the table now?”
“I could stop it a lot quicker if I—”
“Stop!  Stop it!” Tucker reaches up and grabs his beanie in his fists.  “Leave it alone, Sam!”
“Why in the world would I do that?”
Tucker glares at her.  “Because he hasn’t done anything.  And because I’d like you to stop acting like you give two shits about Valerie.”
“What are you talking about, of course I do!”
“Really?  Because in our very first fight you flew off right after she got hurt and left me to apologize for you!  She was sitting there with a hurt leg, and you just flew off like it didn’t matter that she was hurt—”
“Because I felt like I couldn’t breathe!” Sam screams, and Tucker stops up short.
Sam buries her head in her hands and takes a shaky breath, and Tucker blinks at her a couple times, suddenly not sure what to say.
Finally, Sam pulls her head up.  “I couldn’t breathe,” she says weakly.  “That ghost lackey of Danny knocked my board out from under me and then Danny just caught me and I didn’t know what he was going to do and I couldn’t breathe.  I thought I was going to die.  I had to get out of there as soon as I knew he was gone.”  She takes another shaky breath and glares at Tucker, though it’s definitely weaker than she’d want it.  “Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Tucker opens his mouth, at a loss for words.
Sam shakes her head a couple times, buries her head in her hands, then gives a frustrated scream.  She pulls her head up and twists her bracelet until her suit pops on, then turns towards one of the dummies shaped like Danny, and blasts its head clean off.
Tucker’s next breath catches in his throat and he spins away.
“Of course, I care that Valerie got hurt,” Sam snaps, her voice still sounding shaky, but more put together.  “I also care that she’s in a position to get even more hurt and not realize it.  Do you only care about one?”
“He hasn’t done anything,” Tucker whispers.
Sam marches around until she’s in front of Tucker and puts her hands on his shoulders.  Tucker ignores the way he can still feel her hands shaking.  “Yeah, because he’s not going to lead with ‘Hey, you don’t mind that I’m Phantom and hunt you down every other week, do you?’”
“And Valerie’s supposed to come back at that with ‘as long as you don’t mind that I’m the Red Huntress and hunt you down right back?’” Tucker asks quietly.
Sam scoffs.  “Tucker, don’t be ridiculous.  Obviously Danny knows.”
“Are you sure?”
“Why else would he be hanging out with Valerie?” Sam asks.
So he doesn’t have to hang out with us, Tucker doesn’t say.
“Look, if we’re going to keep him away from Valerie, I’m going to need your help,” Sam says.  “You can’t just let me do all the talking.  When I ask you to agree with something, or ask you to comment on something you need to do it.  And you need to stick with me when something goes down.  I need you to back me up, Tucker.  You can’t just be a bystander.”
Tucker pulls out of Sam’s grip and takes a couple steps back.  He knows she’s realized how he’s started shaking too.
“I’m not saying you have to jump straight into the deep end,” Sam says, her voice surprisingly gentle. “Just… don’t sit there in silence, okay?  And don’t just float in the background.  Engage.  Just a little bit.”
Tucker looks up at Sam.  “If anyone damages your board again,” he says softly, the best he can offer right now, “I’ll catch you.  Okay?”
Sam pulls in a sharp breath.  “Tucker, that’s not what I meant,” she says, reaching down to twist her bracelet back and forth.
“I know,” Tucker says.  He looks over at the now headless Danny dummy and swallows.  “But that’s what I’ve got.”  He looks back at Sam.  “I can be defense.”
Sam looks at him for a long stretch of time.  Finally, she nods.  “Okay.”
Tucker melts in relief, but then Sam says, “But you have to be ready to be offense, you know.  I’ve told you I can’t protect you all the time.”
“I will be,” Tucker says.
Sam narrows her eyes at him, and points to the dummies behind him.  “Prove it.”
Tucker’s mouth goes dry.  He starts to shake his head.
“You can be defense,” Sam says.  “But prove it first.”
Tucker looks at her for a moment, but finds her with narrowed eyes, staring at him.  She’s not going to back down.  She never backs down.
Tucker turns around and looks at the Danny dummies, sitting there harmlessly not bothering anyone.
He turns back to Sam.  “Will you leave Danny and Valerie alone for now?”
Sam narrows her eyes further.  “That’s not what I said.”
“We need more information,” Tucker says.  “We don’t know what— what he’s planning to do.  What if by trying to stop it right now we make it worse?”
Sam looks at him for a moment.  “Fine.”
Tucker swallows the bile building up in his throat, and turns and aims at one of the dummies— a Fenton one, just for good measure.
He squeezes his eyes shut and fires.
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hollywoodxwhore · 1 year
Text
Mine | Chapter 3
Colson x Original Female Character
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Synopsis: Presley may look sinful on the outside, but deep down, she's innocent, guarded, and terrified of intimacy. Colson, on the other hand, is living up to his womanizer reputation as a way to cope with heartbreak. When his new guitarist invites his twin sister to join them on tour, Colson discovers that he's actually capable of feeling. Will Presley and Colson be able to push past all of the barriers trying to prevent them from happening?
Warnings/Content: alcohol & marijuana usage, swearing, drunk person, mentions of vomit but nothing graphic (don't worry, your girl has a phobia), col & presley pining for each other, col talking about his dick again
Again, thank you all for such a positive response to this story!
Presley
I enjoy the show even more tonight after my talk with Colson.
His apology seemed genuine and it was nice to hear that he wants me to be comfortable around them. As much as he makes me nervous, a part of me can’t help but go soft with relief knowing that this is who Cash spends all his time with. 
We’re going out tonight, and since I promised last night that I would, I can’t fake a headache and curl up in my hotel room with room service and a movie, much to my dismay.
I don’t bother changing clothes after the concert. I’m good with my outfit. I freshen up my makeup and spritz a little perfume, then meet up with the rest of the group in Slim’s room. Colson and Rook aren’t here yet, but I recognize the two ladies Cash introduced me to yesterday, Ashleigh and Olivia. 
“Hey, Presley!” Ashleigh greets. “You’re hanging out with us tonight. Forget the boys.”
“Deal,” I say with a smile. 
Once Rook is here, everyone is ready to go. Confused, I turn to Ashleigh. “What about Colson?” I ask.
“Oh, if he isn’t here early then he’ll be late,” she explains. “That’s Colson for you.” I feel slightly disappointed. Is he going to meet up with us eventually? I shake my head a bit to clear my thoughts. God, what am I doing? Colson is clearly seeking a friendship and nothing more. He might not even find me attractive. I need to stop pining over him before this gets embarrassing.
We pile into two cars and are taken to a bar nearby. It’s pretty deserted, thankfully, and I’m happy to follow the girls to a private corner where the music isn’t very loud. I watch as the boys find a table, too, talking animatedly about something. I smile softly. I do want to hang out with Cash, but it’s also kind of fun to just observe. 
“So Presley,” Olivia says, and I meet her eyes. Gosh, she’s beautiful. Everyone here is beautiful. “Tell us all the dirt on Cash.”
I lean my head back and laugh, then turn as a waitress approaches our table. Both women order a Sex on the Beach. One drink is usually my limit and that sounds pretty good, so I order one for myself. 
I sigh once the waitress is gone. “There’s not much, really,” I say. “He really is as sweet as he seems.”
“Is there a girlfriend back home I should know about?” Olivia continues, leaning onto her elbows on the table with a little smirk. “What?” She says when Ashleigh laughs.
I grin. “Nope. He’s single,” I say. And she’s just his type. I already know he’s into her, he’s told me, but I won’t tell his secret, as much as I want to. 
“Interesting.” Olivia nods slowly. “Very interesting.”
Ashleigh and I laugh. “So you’re a piercer, right?” Ashleigh asks, and I nod. “For how long? Tell me more.”
“I’ve been at my current shop since I was, like, 20,” I explain. “Obviously had to start as an apprentice and the girl who I was apprenticing for ended up leaving the profession, which made for a super seamless transition into her spot for me.” 
“That sounds like such a cool job,” Olivia says. 
“It is, for the most part,” I say with a nod.
Ashleigh wrinkles her nose. “I bet you get gross clients sometimes,” she says. “I don’t mean physically, but behavior-wise.”
I grimace thinking about the creep I had to pierce right before Cash invited me to join him on tour. “Yeah. Trust me, you don’t want to know,” I say.
“I do, though. That’s my toxic trait,” Olivia says, and we laugh. The waitress drops off our drinks and the first few sips go down easily. It’s one of the best mixed drinks I’ve ever had. 
“Yum,” Olivia sighs. 
“Right,” I agree. “So how did you guys get into the industry?”
Ashleigh grins and takes out her phone. “It might be easier just to show you,” she says, scrolling for a moment. She turns her phone around, and on the screen is a picture of her sandwiched between two teenage boys. Upon closer inspection, I realize they’re Colson and Slim.
“No way!” I say. “Y’all are babies here!”
“Yep,” Ashleigh says, pocketing her phone again. “We’ve been friends forever. I managed them when they were young and broke as shit, and I’ve been there ever since.”
“That’s insane,” I say, glancing over at the boys. Huh. I hadn’t noticed Colson walking in, but there he is, standing beside Slim. I feel oddly sentimental about the fact that they started out as nothing and now they’re some of the biggest musicians in the world. It gives me lots of hope for Cash.
Colson catches my eye right away and my heart stutters in my chest. It’s impossible to look away when he’s spearing me with his eyes like that. They’re so blue and intense, even from across the bar. He lifts his chin in an invitation to come over there.
“I’m being beckoned,” I say, grabbing my drink. “I’ll be back.”
I almost feel out of control of my own body as I walk towards the man for which I definitely shouldn’t be feeling butterflies. “Hey,” he says when I reach him. “Sex on the Beach?”
I nod, taking another sip. “Best one I’ve ever had.”
Colson smirks, obviously finding some double meaning in my words, and I blush. He has no idea. 
“Are you drinking?” I ask, and as I do, the bartender slides a thick glass to Colson. Straight whiskey. He holds up the glass and I cheers with him, finishing my drink.
“Another?” He asks me, but I shake my head. He arches an eyebrow. “No?”
I shrug. “Not really a drinker. One is usually my limit,” I explain.
Colson studies me for a long moment and then nods slowly. “That’s cool. I should take a page out of your book,” he says.
“Definitely makes it easier to get out of bed in the morning,” I say. 
“You smoke though, huh?” He asks.
I nod. “Oh yeah.”
“It’s the best,” Colson says.
“I agree. Way better than alcohol,” I say.
Colson sighs. “Damn. You’re right.” He studies his whiskey, tosses it back, and declines another when the bartender asks. “You wanna go outside and smoke?” He asks.
“Sure,” I say, feeling excited about having a moment alone with him. I follow him out the back door of the bar. With the sun down, it actually feels like September and I shiver, wrapping my arms around myself. 
Colson pulls a joint and lighter out of his pocket and I bite back a grin. So careless. He lights it and I try to ignore the way his jaw and neck look when he’s inhaling. He passes the joint my way and I breathe deeply, inhaling the earthy flavor. As I blow it out, I immediately feel lighter. 
“Thanks for sharing,” I say, passing it back to him. Our fingers brush as he takes it. 
“What did you think of the show?” He asks, bringing the joint to his lips.
“It was great,” I say. “You put on a super fun show.”
Colson smiles faintly and passes me the joint. “We try,” he says. “People pay a lot for our tickets. I want them to cost less, but that’s not really in my power.”
I nod. I like that there’s a humbleness about him. I sense that he’d love a small, intimate show where no one had to pay. I could be wrong, but it’s just the vibe I get.
He’s known as such a wild, party boy in the media. A guy that sleeps around — well, maybe that one’s true. But from what I’ve seen so far, Colson is chill, friendly, and conversational. Like Cash says, the media is totally wrong about this dude. 
We pass the joint back and forth a few more times before I speak again. “So, I saw a picture of you as a teenager today,” I say.
Colson snorts. “Which one?”
“Ashleigh showed me,” I say, watching his face. “Can’t believe you guys have been together for that long.”
Colson nods, looking up at the sky. “I’m the luckiest motherfucker on the planet,” he says. “I have some serious ride or dies with me.”
“Has everyone else been around that long?” I ask.
Colson shakes his head. “Nah, we picked them up along the way like lost puppies.” We laugh. “Yes, your brother included.”
I grin. “Yeah. He’s a puppy, that’s for sure,” I agree. 
“He says you two are close,” Colson says, and I nod.
“He’s my best friend,” I say, and I’m surprised that my voice breaks a little on the last word. “Shit. I hadn’t realized how much I missed him.”
Colson studies me. “Yeah. I bet it’s tough having him so far away.”
“Yeah. It is,” I say, “but I’m so happy for him. He deserves this.”
“You’re not getting him back at this point,” Colson says, bending down to snuff out the joint. He stands back up to his full, intimidating height. “Ready?” I nod and follow him inside, and shit, I’m high. That was some good stuff we were smoking. 
I join the girls again, this time sipping a cherry Coke, and with my inhibitions lowered by the weed, I can’t help but watch Colson. Luckily, the girls don’t seem to notice, too engrossed in their conversation. But man, Colson is just…a wonder. 
Tall and lithe, the way he moves is so strangely intoxicating. Though some of the others are tall, he towers over all of them. Covered in tattoos and piercings, he should be intimidating, but when I can see the shadows his long lashes cast on his cheeks, the warm way he smiles at whoever he’s talking to, he takes on a soft, angelic quality. In the deepest parts of my soul, I know this man is so much deeper than most other men I’ve met. It’s almost haunting. 
It isn’t long before the night takes a turn. I suddenly see Cash with his head down on the table and anxiety spikes in my chest. I get to my feet to go over to him, putting a hand to his back. “Cash?” I say. He just groans. We’ve gotten Colson’s attention and he comes over, brows furrowed in concern. “Do you know what’s wrong with him?” I ask.
“I think he’s wasted,” Colson says with a wince. “He was pounding the shots.”
Cash groans again. “I’m gonna puke,” he says suddenly and my eyes widen.
“Slim!” Colson barks, and Slim hurries over. They get their arms around Cash and hurry him out of the bar where I can only assume he pukes up everything he’s drunk tonight. I grimace. I have to share a room with that tonight. 
I love my brother, but god dammit.
Colson
It’s a good thing I don’t have a weak stomach, because Cash puking all over my fucking boots would be pretty insufferable otherwise.
Slim and I dump him into a car and climb in with him. Presley takes the front seat. Lucky for us it’s a quick drive to the hotel and Cash manages to hold it in until we’re back. Slim and I get him up to his room and immediately he’s in the bathroom again. 
“Alright, I need to go change and shower,” I say, grimacing. 
“I’ve got him,” Presley says with a sigh, rubbing Cash’s back as he throws up.
“You sure?” I ask.
She looks up at me with those gorgeous green eyes. “Yeah. Go wash the puke off you.” She smirks a little, the sexiest smirk I’ve ever seen, and I swear my dick twitches in my pants. I nod and make a beeline for my room.
After a long shower, I decide I need a drink. I grab a bottle of whiskey from the minibar but upon realizing I have no ice, I sigh and pull on some sweatpants over my boxers, grab the ice bucket, and go on a search of the ice machine.
On the way there, I pass a little lounge with a couch and some chairs, and something catches my peripheral vision. I pause, stepping backward, and when I look inside the lounge, I see Presley sitting on the couch. She’s changed, and her hair is up in a messy bun. She wears sweats and a cropped tank top, showing off some of that toned, tan stomach. She holds a book in her hands but she looks up when she sees me. “Hey,” she says.
“Hey,” I say, stepping into the room. “What are you doing in here?”
She shrugs and places a bookmark in her book before setting it aside. “Slim is taking care of Cash and I can’t with the vomit.” She shudders. 
I frown. “It’s almost four AM,” I tell her.
“I know,” she mutters, and stifles a yawn behind her hand. 
I study her and shift on my feet. Don’t do it, Colson. Don’t do — “You can come stay in my room.” Nice, idiot. 
Presley blinks those gorgeous eyes and her lips part. “Oh,” she says, shaking her head. “That’s not fair to you, I—”
“Nah, it’s no big deal,” I assure her. “I’ll sleep on the floor or the couch or something.”
“You’re, like, 12 feet tall,” she says, and I laugh. She smiles a little but then it fades. “Seriously. I can’t kick you out of your bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I say. “Come on. Don’t stay out here all night.”
She chews her lip for a second and then nods. “Alright. Thank you so much,” she says sincerely, getting to her feet. God, how does she look good in everything she wears? And Jesus Christ, there’s no bra under that little tank top, but there are nipple piercings. A flush breaks out on my chest and I’m glad my tattoos hide it. 
I change my mind on the ice. The last thing I need is liquid courage to do something I’ll regret. I lead the way back to my room and let us in. I set down the ice bucket and turn on the TV. I can’t sit here in silence with her. “Make yourself comfortable,” I say. “Go ahead and take the bed.”
“Colson,” she says, shaking her head.
“We can both hang out on the bed and we’ll figure out sleeping arrangements later,” I say. “Deal?”
Presley nods. “Alright, deal.” She smiles softly at me and I smile back, crawling onto the bed. She takes a seat, too, and I relax slightly. 
“Are you tired?” I ask.
“Honestly, not really,” she says. “Cash kinda freaked me out.”
I nod. “He’s fine. But I get it.”
She nods, too, chewing on bottom lip. She does that often, and it’s way sexier than it should be. 
“Wanna smoke?” I ask, pulling a blunt from behind my ear.
She looks over at me and nods. “Yeah, actually. Do we need to go outside?”
“Probably,” I say. “But, eh.”
Presley giggles and curls her legs beneath her, turning to face me. “I’ll try not to get ashes on the bed.”
“You do then you’re footing the bill,” I tease, and when she sees that I’m being playful, she snickers, shaking her head. I light the blunt and inhale the sweet taste of the wrap, then hand it to her, depositing the blunt between her thin fingers. “So, you’re a piercer. You play in a band. What else is there to know about Presley Carver?”
She smiles and takes a hit of the blunt, leaning her head back to exhale the smoke. She hands the blunt back to me and shrugs. “I don’t know,” she says. “I’m not that interesting.”
“I find that hard to believe,” I challenge her, and for some reason, there’s now tension in the room. I wonder if she feels it, too. 
She grins and wets her lips, resting her head back against the headboard. Her eyes close. “I’m actually pretty boring. I like to be home.”
“You don’t go out?” I ask.
“Not really.”
“So, you play shows and you go to work. Don’t you hang out with friends? A boyfriend?” I shouldn’t add that last part on, but I do. Cash already told me she doesn’t really date. But I need to know more about her. I don’t even know why.
She snorts, opening her eyes to look over at me. “Hasn’t Cash told you? I’m chronically single,” she says.
I grin a little. “Me too.” 
“Why?” She asks, and then she looks a little surprised that she did. I pass her the blunt.
My smile falls a little. I’m not going to tell her the real reason, even though she feels like someone I can trust, someone who won’t judge me. “It’s just easier with my career,” I say, half-true. It is difficult to be in a relationship when I’m never in the same city for more than two nights. 
“That makes sense,” she says quietly.
“What about you?” I ask. “Why are you chronically single?” I need to put the blunt down. It’s making it too easy to be truthful and open, and that was the whole point of changing my mind about drinking the whiskey. But I put it between my lips again.
Presley shrugs and her eyes drift away from mine. “Honestly, I have issues,” she says. 
“Don’t we all,” I snort, and this makes her laugh. 
“Yeah. I guess so,” she agrees. “Just easier to be alone. Safer.” She twists the ring on her pointer finger.
“Agreed,” I mutter. She has no idea just how much I fucking agree. “That’s why I just sleep around.” Presley laughs softly, but her cheeks get pink. I cringe a little. “Sorry.”
“No, don’t be,” she says, her hand falling onto my arm. I’m surprised by the touch. Her hand is warm, and her long nails graze my skin, making me shiver a little. “I’m not judging, I promise.” Her jade colored eyes meet mine and there’s a sincerity in them that pierces through me. 
“It’s okay if you are. Everyone else does,” I say. I’m not sure why this is all pouring out of me right now, but I can’t stop it. I’m sure I’ll regret it tomorrow. 
Presley looks sad, her brows drawing together. “No one gets to judge you,” she says. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want. As long as it’s consensual, then it’s totally fine.”
I blink. “Really? Most people just think I’m a man whore.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” She shoots back.
I slump a little, looking off into the distance as I consider this. She’s not wrong. It’s always consensual. Could I be a little more respectful to the women I fuck? Probably. Deep down I know I’m doing it to cope with big feelings, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“I guess nothing,” I say finally. “Casual sex serves its purpose.” Presley nods, but she looks a little stiff. It’s a weird reaction after what she just said to me. “Hey,” I say, and she looks at me. “I’m not judging either, if you do the same thing.”
Presley laughs at that, and I’m taken aback. “Sorry,” she says, blushing a little. “I just…I don’t. Do that.” 
“No?” I ask, still confused by her reaction.
She opens her mouth like she’s going to say something but then she clamps her mouth shut. “Yeah. Um. I think I might get some sleep.”
“Oh. Okay,” I say. I put her reaction in the back of my mind to explore later. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“No, Colson, it’s fine. I’ll sleep on the couch,” she insists.
“Just sleep in the bed. With me,” I blurt. She looks over at me. “I’ll stay on my side. I promise.”
“Are you sure?” she asks. 
“Of course,” I tell her. “If you’re comfortable with it.”
“Yeah. That’s fine,” she says slowly. 
I nod. “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and stuff,” I tell her, getting up. She nods and I go into the bathroom. When I come back, she’s under the covers, all the way at the edge of the bed. I bite back a grin and climb into bed, staying on my side, too. I switch off the lamp.
As attracted to her as I am, it won’t be hard not to touch her. I respect her too much to want to use her like that. As tempting as it would be to do some bad, bad things with her, I promised Cash I wouldn’t, and Presley is worth more than that.
She’s complex. That much I can tell. I want to know her so badly, to figure out her secrets and learn her personality. It’s the first time I’ve felt anything close to this since what happened. I didn’t know I could want anything other than sex with a woman again. It scares me, and because of that, I need to stay far, far away from anything with her. Not even just because of Cash, but for my own good. 
Because when I get too close to someone, when I actually admit feelings, I get hurt. Badly.
XX
It’s been a very long time since I’ve been able to sleep in. 
I wake up slowly, all of my senses fading in at a lazy pace. Before my eyes are even open, I can tell I’m not sleeping alone. No, definitely not alone. 
I pry my eyes open and my temples throb slightly from how much weed I smoked last night. I blink a few times and shift slightly, and that’s when I really notice my current situation. 
Somehow, at some point, Presley and I found our way to the middle of the bed. So much for staying on our own sides. Not only did we gravitate towards each other, but somehow, she ended up halfway on top of me, her leg draped over my hips and her head and hand on my chest. 
I look at her face, and Jesus, she is breathtaking. She breathes slowly, looking incredibly peaceful asleep on my chest. Her hair is messy, falling out of its bun, but she’s still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I frown a little, wondering if she’ll be embarrassed when she wakes up. 
I definitely need to piss and brush my teeth, but there’s no way in hell I’m moving when this is probably the closest I’ll ever be to her. I relax into the bed and hug her a little closer, gently, not wanting to wake her. 
I must fall asleep again because I’m drawn back to consciousness when Presley moves. I blink my eyes open slowly and look down at her as she stretches. She freezes when she realizes she’s on top of me and I close my eyes, pretending I’m asleep. I can feel her head shift as she looks up at me, and I’m surprised when she doesn’t immediately pull away. After a few moments, I slowly open my eyes to find her looking at me. She blushes and smiles sheepishly, but she doesn’t pull away.
“Hey,” she says sleepily. 
“Hey,” I croak. Fuck, my throat is dry. She rolls off of me then, and I’m cold in her absence. I want her back immediately. We fit together like fucking puzzle pieces and I can’t deny that. 
“Sorry,” she says. “I don’t know how that happened.”
“Me neither,” I say. “I’m sorry, too.”
“No, don’t be,” she says, laying on her back and looking up at the ceiling. “I haven’t slept that well in a long time.”
“Shit. Me neither,” I realize. Usually, it takes forever to fall asleep and I toss and turn. I haven’t slept that deeply in longer than I can remember. 
“Thanks again for letting me stay here,” she says, looking over at me with sleepy eyes. My heart softens. Fuck.
“It’s no problem,” I assure her.
She sighs and stretches, back arching slightly. It’s impossible not to stare at her tits as they reach towards the ceiling as her back bows. I didn’t have morning wood but I definitely do now. 
“I should go check on Cash,” she says, slowly rolling out of bed.
“Yeah. Probably,” I say, although all I want is for her to stay right here with me. All damn day. 
She scoops her phone and book off the nightstand and slips back into her sandals. “Thanks again, Colson. I really appreciate it,” she says, smiling.
“Yeah. Of course,” I say. “I’ll see you later?”
“See ya,” she says, and leaves the room.
I roll onto my back and groan loudly, sliding my hands over my face. Fuck, why is this happening? I don’t even know who the fuck I am, experiencing feelings like this. I need to get them in check, and quick.
But first…I need to get this boner in check. 
Shit.
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after-witch · 1 year
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THEEOOO are you alright???
Please tell me you're alright
Give us some update T_T
hey 'non so uhhh, u mm. I didn't want to post because I feel like lately all I do is just post "my life is going to shit" but ;;; YOU ASKED... SO IT'S OKAY.... and uh, truthfully:
I'm not okay. At all. Things aren't okay in a serious way.
gonna 'keep reading' cut this so it's not clogging up anyone's dash ;;
Furnace tech came out, there's a crack in the furnance (He showed me & I got it confirmed) and he tagged my furnace as unsafe for living conditions and turned off power/gas to it.
So I have no working heat throughout the house. In the winter. In an area where it can get down to the 10s/20s or colder, particularly as we get into January-February.
I don't have the money to buy a furnace, but I literally need one to live in this house and make sure my pipes don't freeze/burst, and to sell this house for anything remotely resembling a reasonable price.
They send someone out for an estimate, and it’s $4000 for a new furnance install. I don’t have it. And they gave me info to apply for a loan, but like. I can’t... take out a a $4000 loan to pay for a new furnace when I’m supposed to be moving in 2 months. 
My family found a used furnace, but we need someone licensed to install it. So far the quotes for installing it are just as much as buying the new furnace and having it installed, so it’s like. Hrm. People are asking around to see if we can find someone who will do it for a different rate. But I mean, it’s a complex installation, so I’m not hopeful.
And on top of all this, it's just like. Me trying to sell the house on my own? Somehow? Trying to declutter and clean and pack a 2000 square foot house and then figure out how to list it and for what price and do all the paperwork?
All this was already overwhelming without the "I HAVE NO FURNACE NOW" element hanging over me. And now? I just feel so lost.
So I got approved for the apartment which has a move-in date in early March, but now I'm just like, how am I going to afford the apartment $500 hold deposit in 2 weeks and later on afford the move-in costs and get a furnace installed and get renter's insurance and sell a house with presumably no working furnace in the winter and get everything decluttered and packed in very cold temps and still pay my regular bills and start saving for the next round of car insurance and make enough for gas and and and...
I've actually never felt this level of stress and despair before. I just keep bawling. Like, "when someone you love dies" level of bawling.
I'm just really not okay.
My cat and I are currently in my office with a space heater while I try to do some remote freelance work so I can pay my current bills, hopefully she joins me in the bedroom after I warm it up & stuff a blanket in the doorway cracks to keep it in. I also bought room thermometers so I can see if it's getting to dangerous cold levels and if it is, go to a relative's house.
Thankfully, I do have places I can stay at during the night (siblings houses) but the financial situation & making sure my cat is safe & making sure I'm not in dangerous cold conditions & making sure my pipe's don't freeze is just... overwhelming. idek what to do at this point.
Every time I'm like "Okay, it can't get worse," it just does. Every little positive thing (finally getting my driver's license, finding a way to pay for car insurance, getting help from commissions & amazing donations so I can get my furnace fixed last month) is immediately met with a massive backhand.
Def going to like. Post more about emergency commissions & stuff like that soon. Just right now I need to... figure out... what to make a priority.
Sorry for the long rant. I wish things were going good so I could just say that. I wish I just. had a secret stash of money that I could use to pay for this stuff and not have to worry. 
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Text
𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐌𝐞𝐭
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 1684 words.
𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 That's right, I'm writing fics and turning my Bloody Mary Ghosttober fic into its own universe because I'm so in love with Trans!Reader, Swiss, and Copia as a relationship. Like, I have a word document with notes about their relationship written down so that I can do some fics for them. I'll make a masterlist for this universe with some basic stuff on there such as pronouns I picture the reader having and such. Also! As a side note, if you guys wanna be able to see all the fics I write that are rated as 18+ you'll need to have your content settings set to being able to see mature sexual content or at least blurred, otherwise you'll miss stuff!
“Can’t fucking believe this shit. Can you believe it? I can’t.”
Swiss didn’t bother to hide his amusement at the current predicament. The fact that Sodo had done a number of dangerous activities as a ghoul that had never resulted in injury made the fact that he was currently laying on a hospital bed with his leg propped up even funnier than it already was. He’d been in countless fights and scraps with other ghouls, smashed against walls, smacked against doors, and that wasn’t even taking into account how rough he liked it with other ghouls in the bedroom. None of those had led to him needing medical attention yet stamping his foot a little too hard on stage had injured his ankle enough that he needed to be taken to the hospital nearest the ministry to be checked over.
The fire ghoul glared at him. “Shut up.”
Swiss smiled innocently. “I said nothing.”
“You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your smug little face.”
“Oh?” Swiss folded his arms over his chest. “And what’s that? What is it that I have written on my beautiful face?”
“You wanna say ‘I told you so’ so badly. You wanna rub it in that I was using too much force on stage and now I’m laying here on a stupid hospital bed looking at your stupid mug.”
The multi-ghoul gasped, dramatically clutching a hand to his chest in fake-offence. “Who, me? I would never do such a thing! I think someone’s a bit cranky because he didn’t listen to me when I told him to be careful and not stomp his little feet so hard.”
Sodo narrowed his eyes at his bandmate, gritting his teeth. “Now you listen here…”
“For the love of Lucifer, both of you stop that.” Copia entered the room, already looking exhausted and drained despite only having been at the hospital for a couple of hours. His Papal paint had been washed away, only the black around his eyes remaining. Even with those inky circles, Swiss could still see how tired he was beneath the makeup. “I do not need to hear you bickering like little children, ah? Please try to get along for my sake.”
As much as he wanted to ignore his Papa and continue his spat with the fire ghoul, Swiss reluctantly agreed. The other patients in the hospital didn’t need to be kept awake by their petty fights, even if it was hilarious to see Sodo getting riled up. Besides, there would be plenty of opportunities to make fun of him once they returned to the ministry. From the sounds of it, there were no broken bones or fractures to worry about. They were just waiting for the doctor to return with some pain meds so he could be discharged.
As Copia and Sodo began to talk, the former asking the latter questions and making sure he was comfortable, Swiss stepped out into the hallway and made his way towards the exit to get some fresh air and prevent another argument from happening before they made their way home.
Just as he rounded a corner, he bumped into something and heard a yelp and thud. “Shit, sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?”
You blinked from your position on the ground, the bouquet of flowers thankfully still intact. A slate grey hand extended towards you, and you gratefully took it, allowing the stranger to help you to your feet. As you glanced up at him, you were immediately taken in by the glowing amber of his eyes. While this wasn’t the first time you’d met a ghoul, it was a surprise to be face to face with one in the hospital.
“Hey, you didn’t hit your head or anything, did you? I’d feel bad if I gave you a concussion.”
His voice broke your focus, making you shake your head and smile at him. “Well, if seeing ghouls is a symptom of concussion then I'm afraid you have indeed concussed me."
Swiss grinned. “Oh? Would a hot ghoul make it a pretty serious one?”
You raised a brow at him. “Think highly of yourself, don’t you?”
“Is that a yes?”
You pretended to think for a moment. “Hm, how about I get back to you on that one? Don’t think I’ve decided yet.”
You couldn’t help but feel a prick of joy at the way he perked up at that. Sure, it probably wasn’t a great idea to strike up a friendship with a ghoul, but what harm could come of it? He didn’t seem to be dangerous from what you could tell. In fact, he seemed to be relatively harmless as he gazed at you.
“I’m Swiss, by the way. Are you visiting someone here?”
You smiled and gave him your name. “My best friend just had his appendix removed so I’m just coming to check up on him and bring him some flowers.”
“Damn. I hope he’s doing better now then.”
“Oh, definitely. They’re just keeping him in to monitor him and make sure he doesn’t get an infection or anything before he gets discharged.”
Before Swiss could respond, you heard someone calling from down the corridor for him. You watched his shoulders slump, disappointment flickering in your belly as he glanced back over his shoulder.
“Guess I’ve got to go,” he sighed forlornly. The unwillingness to leave in his voice made you feel something akin to hope in your heart and you immediately whipped out your phone.
“Hey, why don’t I give you my Insta? That way we can keep in touch.” Your face immediately grew warm when his focus snapped back to you, his eyes wide. “Only if you want to, though. I get we’ve only just met, and it probably doesn’t look great that we’re doing this in a hospital, so I completely understand if you’re not comfortable with –”
“Sure.”
You blinked. “That’s… okay?”
Swiss’ face lit up as he pulled his phone out of his back trouser pocket. “Hell yeah! What’s your username? I’ll give you a follow now and then shoot you a message when I get home.”
Giddy with anticipation, you typed it into the search bar on his app and gave him the phone back once you’d hit follow. You did your best not to read too deeply into the pleased expression he was now wearing.
Once Swiss had finally tore himself away from you, you finally picked the flowers up from off the floor and made your way to the room your friend was staying in. He waved you over the moment you were through the door, wincing as he did so. You placed the flowers in his lap and tentatively hugged him while making sure he didn’t pull on his stitches. You took in how tired he looked and immediately felt bad for making him wait for you.
“Sorry I’m late,” you told him. “I bumped into someone in the hallway and got distracted.”
You cringed internally at the way he quirked a brow at you. “Oh? Were they, per chance, cute?”
“Dude, shut up.”
“Oh, definitely cute. Maybe even, dare I say, hot?”
“I will walk out of here.”
He pouted. “Now, is that any way to treat your best friend in the entire world? Come on, tell me about them! What’s their name? Did you get their number?”
You took a seat in the plastic chair beside his bed and couldn’t hold off your smile any longer. “Okay, so his name is Swiss and I’m pretty sure he’s one of those ghouls from the ministry. You know, the one up on that hill on the edge of town? I think he was here with someone else from up there, but he didn’t say. We got cut off and he had to go before I could ask him.”
“Please tell me you got his number. Don’t make me get up out of this bed and track him down.”
“Oh my god,” you groaned, “I gave him my Instagram. He said he’ll message me when he gets home, so the ball’s in his court now. If he doesn’t message me then it’s not the end of the world.”
***
The moment he was back in the underground dens of the ministry, Swiss locked himself away in his room and flopped down onto his bed. He used his tail to flick on the TV with the remote and settled down against his pillows as he opened Instagram on his phone. He clicked on your profile without hesitation and began to read your bio. He immediately recognised the trans and nonbinary flags in your bio, making sure to check your pronouns and commit them to his memory before he started typing out a direct message to send you.
swisscheesghoul Hey! We met at the hospital today, hope your friend’s doing okay 😁 just got home so I wanted to make sure you got back safe too
Almost immediately he got a response and read it eagerly.
transreader69 Ye just got back myself actually so great timing! Hope whoever you were visiting today is okay too. I totally forgot to ask why you were there oops 😅
swisscheeseghoul He’ll live I guess. He sprained his ankle pretty bad and he’s being a little bitch about it so that means he’ll be just fine
transreader69 Ah, ofc ofc. Being bitchy is usually a sign that you’re gonna be alright. Do you both live up at the ministry? Or are you from elsewhere? Sorry idk much about ghouls
swisscheeseghoul Oh yeah Sodo’s the bitchiest ghoul I’ve ever met. We live in the ministry dens with the other ghouls. How’d you know?
Swiss waited a while for reply before he drifted off too sleep, his eyes heavy from the day’s events. He sadly missed your reply and didn’t see it until the next morning, smiling as he read it and enjoying the pleasant warmth that burst through his chest.
transreader69 Just a hunch. Idk many other places that such a hot ghoul like yourself could’ve come from 😉
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lilolilyr · 6 months
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💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?🌻what makes you want to give up on writing? what makes you keep going?🌿how does creating make you feel?
💫 ohh I couldn’t get possibly choose! I adore people quoting my fic back and me telling me what lines they liked, especially when it’s a line I was proud of when I wrote it! But I also love it when someone says they like my writing style <3 and omg there are just so many kinds of nice comments!
🌻 people telling me I ‘need to’ write something as if I owe it to them to use my free time to continue a fic for them. Especially when it’s clearly marked complete. Bloody hell. I wrote in my profile that I don’t like this kind of comment, and on fics where I kind of expect it (it’s always Mirandy fandom, out of the fandoms I’m in it’s bloody Always Mirandy fandom) I tend to even write in the end note telling ppl to not beg for fics, and that they can always prompt me on tumblr but that the comment sections are for comments on the fic that already exists not for asking me to write more… I mean I don’t mind someone telling me they liked it and they’d read it if I write more some time, love to hear that actually! But there’s a difference between that and just asking me to (or sometimes outright telling me I should) write more, especially when there isn’t even a compliment for the fic I have already written involved. Currently kinda leaving Mirandy fandom over this, at least writing-wise. Because I just get so angry whenever I get that type of comment, and I don’t need that in my life! And like, when I do think of a continuation for a fic that had those types of comment, I don’t even want to write or post it because it feels like I’m giving the sharks what they wanted so next time they’ll do the same or worse, you know? So yeah. Not helpful! Not helpful or inspiring me to write at all. But that’s just for the one specific fandom, thankfully I never got that kind of comment anywhere else, at least not at all regularly.
omg just realized I only answered the negative part of this! Anyway, just my mind has me keep going, I have ideas and I Write write write :D well not always, sometimes there's writer's block or lack of inspiration or the only inspiration is for so AU of AU of AU in my brain that it wouldn't make sense to anyone but me xD but in general I just can't Not write for very long! But what does help are prompt events like currently flufftober, doing collabs with people, and of course getting positive feedback on my fics!
🌿 so good! I love writing and putting my thoughts into words especially, but I also love creating all my little extras, fic headers and all :D
Thanks for the ask! :)
Send me fic asks because I’m trying to be productive for university No this is not counterproductive I’ll force myself to write at least a paragraph on my paper before every ask I reply to!
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bekaroth-reads · 2 years
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Godrick x reader 3
[You know how I said a few days ago that I couldn’t think of more Godrick stuff? Guess what hit me like a day later at 3:00 in the morning, haha]
As odd as it may seem, the general horror of your situation was slowly starting to wear off. You were definitely still terrified of the man, but at this point you were able to push past that underlying feeling dread at least when he wasn’t there. Thankfully, these times were seemingly increasing as Godrick was still a lord after all, and there were plenty of times where he needed to be gone for most of the day, leaving you in this horrid room. There would have been plenty of situations where this room wouldn’t have been horrid, but rather one of the best rooms you’ve ever had the pleasure of staying in with it’s lavish decor, decently soft furniture, and well, roomy-ness. The main detractions of it were the obvious one of Godrick, who would always come to check on you throughout the day, though that checking was usually more akin to tormenting, and the fact you were always locked in here. You had exhausted all avenues of escape you could think of, which sadly due to the placement of the room in the castle, was only two; the always locked, impossible to pry open door, and the window that was facing a sheer drop onto a rocky edge of the ocean. To be fair, you thought about just jumping, because as a tarnished if you did miss the water and die, at least you would reappear at a site of grace somewhere else. And you didn’t care where that somewhere else was as long as it wasn’t here. The problem was that it was one of those windows that was cut straight out of the stone work of the castle, and while it was wide enough to easily look through, it was too thin to actually fit through; and you most certainly tried! Even so you thought of trying again. But, there was the sound of someone on the other side of the door which pulled you from your mullings of escape. It didn’t seem to be Godrick, as if it were, he would have had the door unlocked and would have been well into invading your personal space by now.
You hesitantly walked to then door and leaned to the floor to try to see what you could from the crack at the bottom. For the little bit that you could tell, there were two normal looking legs with only one foot connected to each, letting you know for sure that this most certainly wasn’t Godrick. Not knowing much else, other than the fact that you desperately wanted to talk to any other person at this point, you gave a tentative, “Hello?” through the crack. You were answered with a wheezing laugh, followed by a raspy, yet somehow delicate voice musing, “I knew the beast had got him someone; but didn’t think they’d last this long!” After that response, you thought for sure that whoever this was just came here to taunt you and leave, but to your surprise they kept talking. “How long have you been held here, poor tarnished?” Even though you would usually have been cautious with strangers, you were desperate to find a way out of here and were hopeful that this person was going to be that way out. “I’m not positive, but I think just over two weeks.” The person on the other side hummed in thought at that. “Not usually one to be friendly with you tarnished, seeing as you lot seem to make trouble. But,” the next part he said in a bit of a hushed tone, and you almost couldn’t hear him through the door, “seeing as the, “lord,” has gone mad, a little trouble might be good for him. Not mentioning that what you currently live like is a fate I wouldn’t wish on the worst of my enemies.” That wheezing laugh rang out again, but was quickly shushed. “Now, if you want to be free from that room without Godrick’s keys, there is but one way.” This information from him caused you to really stop and listen.
“The fireplace has a fairly large opening at the top. Might be a bit if a tight squeeze, but you should still be able to get through.” The man started as he seemingly leaned closer to the gap at the bottom of the door as his voice grew ever so slightly clearer, “You should be in the clear once you get out. As long as you leave quickly and quietly. The roofs and gables of the castle are actually quite easy to walk upon.” The chimney had never occurred to you because you had never seen an outside view of it and assumed it tapered off at the top. “How do I know if I can trust you?” You questioned, not wanting to get yourself into another situation like this one. “Well, I ‘spose you can’t. Only assurance I can give is that we both have our reasons to spite the ol’ codger.” He suddenly paused for a few moments before whispering, “Got to go. Spent too much time here. If you’re going to try the chimney today, do it quickly!” The feet under the crack of the door quickly walked away, and took the man with them. You wasted no time to try what he suggested. Sure it might have been a good idea to wait and try it later when you were positive that you would have the time, but the temptation of freedom was too strong to ignore.
It was a bit more difficult that you thought that it would have been as even though you were easily able to brace your body against the sides to inch your way up, all of the soot lining the masonry made it somewhat slippery; your sweat from the close quarters as well as your nerves made it worse. Still, there was still good time being made and you were already a good few meters up the thing even though you had just started a few minutes ago. But, seeing as fate seemed to hate you, there was suddenly the sound of the door opening, and the familiar sound of mixed-matched limbs lumbering along the floor. You froze, you could easily stay braced here for a long time, and it in fact gave you another option to get out. If climbing up the fireplace didn’t work, perhaps you could just hide in here until he thought you had already gotten out. Then he might rush out and leave the door open. All you had to do was stay still and not make a sound as you knew by this point he had very keen hearing.
“Now where hast thou stolen away to this time?” You heard Godrick hum in a calm voice that contradicted the ever more frantic sound of him walking around the room as he searched for you. Things were looking good for you for the slightest of moments, but then, once again something seemed to be out to ruin your life. Your foot slipped slightly; not enough to make you slide, but it did knock down a trail of soot from the wall. As the dust fell, you heard Godrick’s pacing stop. You held your breath, trying to make the least amount of noise possible. The next thing you knew there were one of those long arms of his snaked it’s way in, the six-fingered hand grouping around the walls right under you, thankfully just out of reach of you. That lumbering figure if his was keeping him from reaching further into the fireplace or even looking up into it. After an agonizing half a minute the arm retreated, and you listened intently, hoping the sound of him leaving quickly followed. There was a grunt from Godrick, followed by a bang that shook the walls and caused you to loose your balance. Falling down the chimney, you landed onto the old charcoaled logs and plies of ash, causing a cloud of soot to plume thickly into the air. You coughed and hacked as the grey fog attacked your nostrils and lungs, and when things started to clear, you saw Godrick looming over you, his cloak strategically held over the bottom half of his face to cover it from the filth that temporarily clouded the air. His eyes were still visible, though, and they were furious.
He lifted you by the back of your shirt like a cat grabbing the scruff of a kitten; making you eye level with himself, yet keeping you at a distance to avoid getting dirtier than he had to. “ T’would be wise to explain thyself, and explain well.” He sneered, his voice still muffled by his cloak. There was no answer from you, however, as you were doing your best to squirm out of his hold, kicking more soot up in your wake. “Be still!” Godrick growled as he tried to subdue you. But, you had just come so close to regaining your freedom that you had found a new zest for fighting. Well, fighting as best you could being held the way you were. “I bade thee, be still!” He shouted, feeling like the volume would help him control you. “I am thy lord! And, thou shalt as I-“ there was a loud rip as your tunic tore in your struggle, and you fell to the floor, sending another puff of ash into the air. “…command…” Godrick trailed off as he looked at the little bit of cloth in his hand and then down to you face first in the fireplace.
You were dazed from the fall and a slight bump on the head as a result. As you tried to push yourself up, a whimper fell from your lips as your aching head protested the movement. To your astonishment, Godrick actually rushed to your aid, scooping you up and holding you properly with gentle intent. “See now? Had thou been obedient then this harm would not have befallen thee.” He practically cooed as he checked over your head. “Stop…” you groaned and tried feebly to pull away from him. “Stubborn to the end. ‘Tis why thou’rt endearing.” Godrick chuckled. “Hush now and be still.” This time the command from him was gentle. After checking the area that was starting to swell slightly and deciding that it wasn’t anything too concerning, he looked to the rest of you. He chuckled again at the slight before him. There you were, shirt torn with a large chunk out of the back of it, covered in soot from head to toe like you were the world’s worse chimney sweep, and slightly sleepy looking as you were slowly regaining your wits from the bump on your head.
“Now, what a state my little pet is in!” Godrick almost giggled as he brushed you or hair away from your face. One of his hands grabbed the end of his cloak and started to wipe off your face with it. “I shall not have thee seen in such rags.” He hummed and you found it ironic, because if the time that you had spent here had let you know anything it’s that he wasn’t going to let you been seen by anyone at all. “Does that fancy thee, pet?” He asked you in an excited tone that indicated he thought you should be excited as well. “Hmmm? Shall we dress thee in garments as pretty as thy countenance?” You had no idea why there was this sudden change in demeanor that he was having. From the time that you had been with him, you knew that he could change emotions at the drop of a hat, but this seemed extreme even for him. From how furious he was just a few minutes ago to how overly fawning he was being now… there was something going on and you were determined to find out what it was. “Firstly, though, thou art to be cleaned. Fine clothing and soot do not compliment each other after all.” He gave an actual laugh, which was something that you hadn’t heard him do yet. Even though you had never heard him genuinely laugh before, at least not with much of his usual mad cackle mixed in, you couldn’t help but feel that wheezing cadence it had was somehow familiar.
Godrick, unbeknownst to you, was panicking. He knew that you were more than capable of causing him some real problems if you wanted to. He had just managed to get lucky on convincing you that he was much more fearsome than he actually was. Certainly, there was some point where he was, but there was a major flaw that arose from this game that he decided to play about two and a half weeks ago; it was no longer feeling like a game. And, to make things worse, he felt almost powerless to stop it. When he thought you were actually gone, he felt like he was going to die. So, in order to try yo keep you from trying to escape again, he tried to do what he had done from the beginning, frighten you into submission. But, to his horror, it didn’t seem like it was working anymore. Perhaps he had over used the method? Either way it wasn’t working today. So he would be sweet on you for the rest of the day, perhaps tomorrow too if you weren’t too obstinate. Godrick had his methods of getting his way; and, more importantly, what he wanted. He hummed as he walked you over to the washbasin across the room, and started to properly clean your face. “If only I could convince thee to behave.” Godrick groaned as he started to fuss over your face with the washcloth.
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tomasdiaz · 9 months
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( pedro pascal, he/him, male ) i’m pretty sure i just ran into tomas diaz! you know them, they’re the 45 year old bar owner that’s been here for 15 years. they can be pretty patient, but on the d.l., they’re also stoic. i have their ringtone set as hip to be square by huey lewis and the news in my cell. next time you’re around manhattan, tell them to give me a call! (kirby!)
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stats!
name: tomas vicente gutierrez diaz
d.o.b.: december 1, 1959
hometown: punta arenas, chile; albany, ny
current residence: manhattan, nyc
height: 5'11"
sexuality: homosexual
positive traits: patient, generous, careful
negative traits: stoic, closed off, stubborn
family: isidora diaz (50y/o, sister), dominga diaz (48y/o, sister) jj duval (24y/o, godson)
bio! (tw alcohol, drugs, overdose, addiction)
tomas was the third and final child born into his family, and the only boy in the bunch. his sisters preceded him by a few years a piece. just a few years after he was born, they packed up and moved across the world, from chile all the way to albany, new york, where his father worked on an assembly line and his mother ran a small daycare out of their quaint home. it wasn't a lavish life, but they got by just fine.
with their living situation, tomas was surrounded by kids pretty much always. his sisters as well as the kids his mother looked after. he always felt... out of place. not for any particular reason, he just tended to hide himself away in the corner of whatever room they were in, much preferring to keep to himself and do his own thing. his parents often tried to get him to mingle, to interact more with the other children and make friends, but it never quite stuck.
not until high school. through most of his life, he kept to himself and stayed quiet, but as a teenager he steadily started making friends. maybe not... the right friends. the crowd he started to run with were a little bit difficult. they skipped school, got high, caused trouble. tomas had always felt like an outcast, so befriending a small group of them finally gave him something he'd never really felt before. acceptance.
things just got rougher and rougher, though. in school it was weed and whatever drinks they could score either from their parents or the corner store. once they graduated, tomas and his friends turned to harder drugs. what had just been fun and carefree became an addiction. not a day went by that tomas didn't get drunk before 3pm, and most of his money was blown on whatever drugs he could get his hands on. and when you were working odd jobs here and there and renting out motel rooms a few times a week, money was not an easy thing to hold onto.
by the time he was twenty-five, tomas had been suffering with addiction for years. his parents were quietly supportive, trying desperately to offer help without offering it outright. they'd learned the hard way that tomas got extremely offended at the suggestion that he needed help. but eventually, after an altercation with a cop, he was forced into rehab, angering him and thrilling his family. thus began his complicated relationship with recovery.
rehab helped in spurts. sometimes he'd have a good therapist, someone that understood what it was like and would actually talk to them like adults, and sometimes the pitying sessions would piss him off. he made some friends that wanted to get better and encouraged him to do the same, and he made some friends that were waiting to get out for another high.
overdose tw! it took a near death experience for tomas to finally shape up. he overdosed - thankfully in a bar bathroom where people were able to get him medical attention immediately. he flatlined in the ambulance and had to be revived by paramedics.
ironically, the threat of eternal sleep was a wake up call. it wasn't easy by any means, but tomas put himself through rehab again, this time willingly, he went to support groups, he cut toxic people out of his life. by the time he was thirty, he was clean, and he has been for fifteen years now.
after getting clean, tomas moved from albany into the city. he found a job at a bar in manhattan, commuting on the train every day for a long time. first he was just cleaning and acting as a stand-in bouncer whenever people got too rowdy - as a former addict, he knew just how crazy things could get if not taken care of quickly. at first it was hard for him to be around, but as time went on, he felt immune to his surroundings. and he continued working at the bar for years.
it took a long time, but eventually, tomas saved up and purchased the bar from the retiring owner, just shy of his thirty-eighth birthday. the only business knowledge he had was from books, as he'd never even stepped foot on a college campus, but he figured it out and worked his ass off to do so. now, he owns two bars in manhattan, and lives in a much nicer place than he ever could have imagined for himself
headcanons + wanted connections!
tomas' high school best buddy had a kid, jj, when they were in their early 20s and named tomas his godfather, and tomas more or less adopted him when jj was 17. not legally or anything, but... jj has been living with him since then and they both very much consider each other the only close family they've got. that's tomas' kiddo right there.
both of tomas' parents have died since he moved to new york - his father about six years ago and his mother about two. it's just him and his sisters now
his relationship with them was weird for a while, but they're friendly now! tomas tries to drive out to see them a few times a year.
tomas is gay and has known that for a really, really long time. he doesn't "come out" formally very much anymore though, he just kind of. is gay and expects the people around him to figure it out. it's easier!
100% straight edge. tomas hasn't done any drugs or had a drink of alcohol in over 10 years. kinda judgey if other people indulge
kinda judgey period, tbh. like he's a nice guy, but he has opinions about everything.
i would love some regulars at his bars! i think he's there a lot bartending or just helping his staff out. or past/current employees maybe!
neighbors that he's friendly with would be nice! he lives in manhattan, but he lived in the bronx for a long long time so former ones would be fun too!
a fling or two? tomas hasn't been in many serious relationships, so i think he sticks to casual shit for the most part
anything honestly, im obsessed with all of you and want all the plots
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survey--s · 9 months
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572.
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Created by chasingghosts
Do you ever get groceries delivered to your house? Yeah, we get a delivery every Thursday.
What was the last job interview you went to where you didn't get the job? Do you think the interview went well or not? I’ve never failed a job interview - every job I’ve interviewed for I’ve been successful, thankfully. Now I run my own business so I don’t really need to worry about that kind of thing.
Are you the kind of person who can wake up with one alarm or do you need several? One alarm is plenty - I can never fall back asleep once my alarm has gone off, no matter how tired I am.
What's your favourite pasta shape? Fusili.
What position is your body in right now? Sitting, laying, standing? I’m sitting on the sofa with my legs out in front of me on the recliner bit.
Do you have any plans for the upcoming weekend? It’s Saturday and I’ve just started an eight day house-sit. So today I got up, walked the dogs, popped home to shower and see my husband and animals, then back here and I have no real plans for the rest of the day as it’s pouring rain and tomorrow will be the same.
What's one of the saddest movies you've ever seen? The Road.
Has a movie ever made you cry? God, loads of times lol. If I’m on my period I’ll cry at anything ha.
If you have a pet, where are they right now? My own pets are all at home, but I’m currently house-sitting for two dogs and a cat. Bailey (dog) is asleep next to me, Poppy (dog) is asleep on the other sofa and Benny (cat) is asleep under the table.
What's the last dessert you ate? I had a blueberry muffin for lunch if that counts?
Do you experience deja vu often? Not really.
Are there any rooms in your house that you don't go into every day? Yeah, the spare room.
Did you own many videos or DVDs when you were a kid? No. We never had a video player and even into my teens I only owned a handful of DVD’s. My parents (dad especially) were really anti-screen time. Ironically he now spends most of his retirement on a laptop or watching TV lol.
What was the last physical pain you experienced? Back ache.
Have you ever fed an animal at the zoo? Which ones? Yeah, multiple times. Off the top of my head, I’ve fed jaguars, elephants, rhinos, giraffes, penguins, squirrel monkeys, lemurs, birds of prey (eagles, owls, hawks) and the usual farm animals - goats, sheep, horses etc.
Do you use Fahrenheit or Celsius? Do you know both or just one? Celsius. I don’t automatically know the equivalent in fahrenheit, no.
Can you do a handstand? When was the last time you tried? Only underwater. I haven’t done one since we were in Lanzarote though.
Do people misunderstand you? Not really.
What year will you/did you turn 30? In 2019.
Have you ever worked or lived in a high rise building? No.
Who are some of your favourite actors? Johnny Depp, Meryl Streep, Emily Blunt, Anne Hathaway, Amanda Seyfried, Benedict Cumberbatch, Ian McKellan, Maggie Smith.
Do you hate it when musical artists make music for way too long and kinda ruin the legacy they'd originally built for themselves? No.
Is there anything that's been bothering you emotionally lately? Not really, no.
What was the last store you shopped at? Tesco.
What time did you wake up today? Was that earlier or later than usual? Way too early - 5.45am lol. I didn’t really get up properly until 8am though. 
Have you ever been to a parade? What for? Yeah, just local carnival type things.
When you exercise, do you do anything to entertain yourself like listen to music or watch TV? Sometimes I listen to music.
Do you ever read other people's survey answers? I read the answers of the person I copy the survey off, but I don’t really seek out other people just to read their answers.
What app on your phone do you use the most? Probably TikTok or Reddit.
Does your current city differ from your hometown in terms of weather? Yeah, it’s much wetter and cooler up here. But we have much more interesting nature and we’re by the sea which is perfect for me.
Have you ever been engaged? Yes, twice.
What can you hear right now? My own typing and the TV.
Do you know anyone who is terminally ill? Not as far as I’m aware.
What was your first best friend's name and where did you meet them? Are you still in touch with them? Lucy. We went to Kindergarten together but we’ve not spoken since we left primary school even though we actually ended up at the same university.
What's your favourite fruit? Raspberries, honeydew melon, pineapple, strawberries.
Do you have nice views from your house? Nope, but there are some incredible views nearby.
What was the last album you listened to? I honestly can’t remember.
How often do you get paid? I work for myself - most people pay me weekly on a Friday, but a few pay me monthly in advance. Either is fine as long as I get paid lol.
Do you own any cool or interesting mugs? No, not really.
If you had to start a university course next week, what do you think you'd like to study? Canine Behaviour/body language.
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franckyfox2468 · 10 months
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Currently living in a moment where both of the things that usually make me happy and ease my mind are the source of my current anxiety, sadness and the cruel reminders of realities that no amount of therapy will be able to fix, no matter how positive i try to look at the outcome. And even looking back at my past accomplishements is not helping as they are usually tied to shit circumstances.
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Thankfully i’m surrounded by amazing friends who are still ultra supportive of my work and they are part of the reasons i wont be giving up and keep those projects of mine going but... yeah. It overall still fucking hurts and there isn’t much they can do but watch like the picture above. I do these things because i enjoy them, yes. But i also wish to reach people who it could make them happy with and eventually create a community of sorts. But i just need to accept its not happening. The secret project im working on managed to gather a lot of interest amongst my mutuals and they have been ultra supportive of it. But on the other hand i cant say the same for my comic. Last page i made was like like a year ago and a half and i dont particularily have anyone asking for more even the little audiance i managed to get for it.
This whole thing probably don’t change anything in anyone’s life but i still felt like putting it down into words, much like how i still do art and such for myself.
 I also felt like letting the few of you who still supported my works that despite all of this you still mattered to me. I just need some time i guess...
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alfazagato2 · 10 months
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AI IS NOT ART
I'll firstly and openly admit that I won't be the first to express such an opinion.   I also won't be the last, lest the world ends seconds after I submit this.   Either way, I cannot accept AI work as art.   I'm not saying that a computer could never make art.  Should we create an AI that can then create completely original images, down to the base linework, then I could accept AI work as art.   The current programs don't do that, to my knowledge.   They sample and merge existing pieces to form new images.   Done exclusively by increasingly detailed inputs from initial users.   Current AI is parroting what we tell it by stealing what we've already created.   That's not art. Making the AI itself is an art.   Such high-level, complicated work is not an easy task.   Especially as my understanding of the current process is early programming can only go so far.   AI needs to be educated, almost as a person would, to grow into its own.   And that's fine.   Let's make high-level AI. High-Level AI to work menial labor, that is.   Accountancy, manufacturing, construction.   Mind-numbing, back-breaking dangerous work that often pays little as it is.   If companies are pushing so ward for efficiency, why do they seem so intent on all but enlaving their workforce?  There's many jobs that have no reason even now for human involvement.   Maybe oversight, where AI may not have been programmed thoroughly, or educated totally, to ensure effectiveness.  We don't need people for bookkeeping, though.   In the same vein, we shouldn't be leaving art & expression to computers.   While art isn't exclusive to humanity, it still remains one of our greatest forms of expression and freedom.   We use art to express our content or displeasure, our happiness, pride, disapproval, depression.   Our creativity continues to be one of humanity's greatest strengths. Yet someone, or many someones, along the way decided that we should surrender art to our usurping children, to create a great folly to suppress our freedom.  We've been sold on the idea that our best interests lie with machines regurgitating our own work back at us. That's not to say that human art can't be derivative.   Can't be repetitive, be stolen.   A long-standing debate remains the use of tracing in art, then being sold (actively sold,) as original work.   I will contend, though, that tracing, especially tracing that leads to further alteration, is still greater art than what current AI is.   Tracing still requires some level of expression, some personal input, to produce.   Tracings bigger issue is when it violates the legal gatekeeping necessary to protect original artists from profiting on their work. Which brings me to the greatest issue with current AI art models.   All the current AI that I'm aware of effectively steal the artwork used to sample.   So many hosts have quietly changed their terms-of-service to subvert creative commons licenses.   This sort of corporate underhandedness is further evidence of the anti-humanity culture we've accidentally brewed. Thankfully, the 'artistic community' has submitted to forms of guerrilla counters to this theft.  Largely centering on baiting Disney, notable for their rabid protection of copyrights.   Many pages still retain options for negative reactions.   DeviantArt lacks such option, and traffic is traffic.   What DeviantArt does offer is an option to suppress how much AI art is presented to you.  Even that small denial is progress, is positivity.   What can we do to slow the spread of AI art?   Obviously, refusing to share it in the first place is great.   You should also even avoid interacting with it, too.   Don't watch the video.   Don't click on the image.   Don't leave a comment - positive or negative. Again, traffic is traffic at that point.   Do use options like dislikes or downvotes, if possible to do without directly trafficking the art.  reddit has a win in that department.  Youtube doesn't.   Sadly, we're at the point were even discussing AI is lending it strength.   My post here will only be seen by the algorythym as containing the phrase "AI."  Our phones, central to our lives, betray us unknowingly, hearing our words and divulging our thoughts.  We can't counter it; not yet. I do wish you're still with me at this point.  I ranted; I raved.   I sincerely hope I'm not alone.   We must do what we can to suppress AI art.   At least until AI work truly does become art.   This must be one piece of gatekeeping we accede to.  We cannot let ourselves become the drones in the great machine, displaced by the drones we've created.   We must remain the creators, the novel, the unique and original.   Thank you for your time. This will be posted both on DeviantArt and on tumblr.  Not Facebook, I still retain a divested identity between the platforms to some extent.  
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xseildnasterces · 1 year
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numb / encore.
Monday is the big day! I start my biologics - finally. It’s been such a long time coming. I’m excited, but also scared. I think both of those are normal emotions when starting something like this. I will need to do injections on Monday for my starter dose. My nurse will call and walk me through it on video call. I started watching some videos yesterday of people doing their injections and I think they made me more apprehensive and worried than I was before. I don’t know where to do my first one, do I go for my tummy or the top of the thigh? Which will be the least painful? Will it hurt? Will it sting? Will the mechanism make me jump when I press the button and the needle breaks into the skin? I’m nervous, but I can do this. And I will do this. I am hoping with everything I have that this sends me into remission.
I started getting severe stomach cramps this week for the first time in a while and went into major panic mode. Thankfully it turned out to just be my period. I have never been so happy to see my period before. At least that’s somewhat normal at the moment. Getting severe cramps whilst taking steroids would have been incredibly disheartening. Even though not everything in my GI tract is exactly as it should be right now, pain has at least been at a minimum - which is good thing. One thing that has not got better though is my nausea. It’s absolutely horrendous every single day. Today was beyond bearable so I took nausea medication to get it under control. I hope that once I come off the steroids the nausea will stop. If it doesn’t, another trip to the doctors will be required. 
My summer plans were set to be a trip home at the very end of May and to remain in the UK until the end of July. My plans got turned a little upside down when I got a wedding invite to H’s sisters wedding… which is in Michigan. So I had to do some re-juggling and I think I now have a plan in place. I am still flying home at the end of May to go to two festivals, and then I will fly back from the wedding and work a few more weeks, and then I will head home likely until the end of August. Nothing is set in stone yet, and nothing is booked expect my first flight home, so who knows what will happen? This is my current plan - although I’m not looking forward to taking three international flights back and forth in less than a month… urgh.
This week has been weird. My boss has left. It was not her choice and work has treated her like shit. I may not have always been happy with everything she did, and we had a few clashes at the beginning, but over time we got along and she was an absolute lifesaver when I was sick. I cried when she left. I felt so sad. It’s weird when you have worked with someone for over three years and they are just no longer there anymore - especially when it’s your boss. I’m anxious about what this means for work, for my team, and the future of our place in the organisation. I need to stop stressing about these things because right now they are completely out of my hands. I have no say in who is hired next, nor do I have any input on how things will be going forward. For now, all the rest of my team and I can do is wait. I hope this is a positive change. 
[Blog title: Numb / Encore - Linkin Park ft. Jay-Z.
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Kabby + "Your hands are shaking."
Post-s2 grayspace is always a fun time + honestly a squirrel bite PROBABLY wouldn't do significant damage right? PG-ish and also on ao3.
If this strange new world doesn’t kill him, she just might.
Abby is still resolving some of her emotional developments, which is to say it’s been a month since the last time she almost died and that’s given her just enough time to realize that changes in certain dynamics may not have just been temporary and panic-induced. She’s trying to be vague about it to keep her options open, because she knows this doesn’t work out long-term, because the idea of living in a world where someone who’s been her nemesis for most of her life isn’t is destabilizing and-
Fine, there are a lot of things going on and even her usual ability to thrive in chaos is hitting a few limits she didn’t know she had, but somehow this is the most distressing part. Trying to reestablish some kind of normal on the ground… not easy, not going according to anyone’s plans, but probably doable. Not knowing where her daughter is… not good, but there’s probably some kind of reason for that and Abby isn’t worried about survival abilities there at the very least. Actually caring about someone who has repeatedly and intentionally ruined her life over a period of multiple decades but apparently hit his head at some point during his attempt at getting himself killed by the elements six weeks ago and has since attempted a quiet but bizarre redemption tour…
The problem isn’t just that Marcus has rapidly and unexpectedly fixed almost every issue any living thing has ever had with his personality, although that’s still weird as hell and again Abby is pretty sure some kind of brain trauma is the most likely explanation. No, the problem is along with this sudden not-being-a-terrible-person behavior, he’s also lost the survival drive that made him useful even when he was doing unlikable things like, y’know, trying to kill her. At least up in the sky he was a competent asshole. Down here, she’s not so sure about that. Down here…
“And what exactly happened?” she asks, even though she would prefer to have no idea why she’s currently disinfecting some kind of bite on her counterpart’s thigh. At least whatever got him this time was small, but small with fangs is still not friendly wildlife, and-
“Something in the vicinity of a squirrel,” he replies in an even enough tone to suggest he probably rehearsed this explanation on the way back home. “It didn’t bite anyone else, before you even-“
“Before I what, exactly?”
She’s going to kill him. If mutant squirrels don’t beat her to it – she’ll process that that’s the latest competition later – she will, so help her.
“Never mind.”
“If you think I’m so concerned about you, you could just say-“
“I don’t need to say anything. Your hands are shaking. That’s clear enough.”
She glances down and the worst part is he’s not wrong. There is visible concern in her movements, and thankfully she’s just trying to clean the dried blood off the wound not do anything more to it, and-
“You can’t do this to me,” she murmurs, well aware that her fear will not be respected. “You can’t go and do stupid shit and-“
“I wasn’t sure you cared before.”
Abby makes a low bitter noise and looks away, not trusting how her face might betray her since apparently no part of her body is listening to her mind right now. “I’ve dealt with you in this sort of position how many times in the past few months and you still weren’t sure-“
“The debt of trying to keep someone alive is not the same as-“
“Damn right it isn’t,” she mutters. “But whatever game you’re playing… you can stop now. I don’t hate you anymore. I’m not sure I ever have. And trying to make friends with every mutant creature that crosses your path isn’t-“
“It wasn’t intentional.”
“Sure it wasn’t.”
She refocuses on the task at hand, and at least whatever bit him didn’t even go deep enough to scar. The wound had closed neatly enough before she got to it, she’s more cleaning it than actually trying to mend, and everything will be okay, and-
“I’m tired,” she murmurs, and she hasn’t said those words out loud in a very long time. “I am so, so tired. And you might be the only person who’d listen to me if I asked you to-“
“I will try not to get attacked by mutant rodents if I can avoid it,” he says, and this too feels rehearsed, like he’s trying to follow a script they used to cling to that doesn’t apply as much as it once did. “Is that what you want?”
“I need you to avoid more than mutant rodents. Unnecessary risk. Period. I know that’s not where you are right now but-“
“I don’t know where I am. But if it makes you happy…”
“You don’t need to fix what you’ve done by trying to bleed out.”
They’ve had this conversation before, a month ago when neither of them wanted to move, when they’d both nearly bled out and it had been a mutual decision to be miserable and useless together for a few days until stubbornness pushed them out of mandatory rest. It feels different now as a free choice, as something with actual motivation behind it and-
“What if that’s all there is?”
“Not right now,” she replies. “I can’t… I can’t talk you down right now. Not when you’ve just gone and-“
“Let it go. I’m fine.”
“This time, yes. Next time? I can’t know.”
They are too close to an edge, too close to too many things that could be destruction or salvation or maybe those are one and the same. But not right now. She can’t let it. Not right now. Not…
“I’ll try. For you.”
She can almost believe him.
Almost.
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