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fairuzfan · 5 months

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June was working at the Goldie restaurant in Philadelphia on Sunday night when protesters started assembling outside the Israeli-American-owned eatery waving Palestinian flags.

"Goldie, Goldie, you can't hide, we charge you with genocide," they chanted.

The 24-year-old June, who asked to be identified by his first name only, told Middle East Eye that they watched the rally through the window of the restaurant which sells falafel, hummus and other Middle Eastern cuisine. June was shift-leading at the time.

"I remember thinking it was a big crowd, given it had been raining," June said.

"No one inside was bothered. I didn't feel unsafe. There were orthodox Jews taking part in the protest. We even had a customer come into the business," June, who is also Jewish, added.

After a few minutes, the protesters left.

When June went home after the shift, they found social media alight with accusations that the crowd had targeted the restaurant because it was a Jewish establishment.

But June says they knew that this wasn't a case of antisemitism.

"The protesters had assembled outside Goldie because the restaurant owner had sent money to an aid organisation that supported the Israeli military. They had come because two employees at Goldie were fired for expressing support for Palestine," June told MEE.

Outraged by the feverish pace with which the false narrative of a marauding mob intimidating a business on account of their Jewishness was being amplified on the internet and the news media, June posted on social media in support of the protesters.

"If you don't want to be directly funding genocide, stay away from Goldie, Kfar, Federal Donuts, Laser Wolf or Zahav. Goldie's parent company CookNSolo held a fundraiser where sales from all their restaurants went to an org [sic] that gives supplies to the IDF [Israeli military]," June wrote.

On the way to work the next morning, June received a call from the restaurant. They were told that they were no longer needed and they was fired with immediate effect.

That made June the third person at Goldie to be fired on account of their pro-Palestinian advocacy since 7 October when Israel's war on Palestine began.

Since late Sunday, the US media, prominent Jewish Americans, Philadelphia's mayor, several lawmakers, and even the White House have issued statements condemning the protests outside the restaurant.

"This is idiotic and dangerous. Protest outside the Israeli consulate or the offices of your member of Congress, not Jewish or Israeli-owned restaurants," prominent Jewish-American writer Peter Beinart wrote.

Likewise, Andrew Bates, a White House spokesperson, described the incident as "antisemitic and completely unjustifiable to target restaurants that serve Israeli food over disagreements with Israeli policy".

On Tuesday, US Vice President Kamala Harris' husband, Doug Emhoff, called Michael Solomonov, the owner of the restaurant group, to express support for his business.

But former employees at Goldie as well as pro-Palestine advocates who either organised or participated in the protest say the outrage was manufactured to distract from both the crimes of the Israeli state and those who have chosen to support it.

"While Goldie was not the goal of our protest, we briefly paused and led chants [outside the restaurant] because the owner, Michael Solomonov, has used proceeds from the restaurant to fund an organisation that works directly with the Israeli Occupational forces," Natalie Abulhawa, a spokesperson from the Philly Palestine Coalition, said.

Abulhalwa said that the group spent only a few minutes outside the restaurant and moved on to other stops before continuing the rally.

"We also stopped at Starbucks for the same reason and then continued to march. Our march was roughly three hours long and we stopped at Goldie's for four minutes, at most," Abulhalwa added.

June, who was at the business at the time, confirmed to MEE that the protesters were only around for a few minutes.

Sophie Hamilton, who worked at Goldie for more than two years, including as a store manager, confirmed to MEE that Solomonov had held a fundraiser in mid-October, where $100,000 was raised for United Hatzalah, an Israeli emergency aid organisation based in Jerusalem.

She said Goldie, part of the CooknSolo company, was not some small-time "mom-and-pop" business, but a sprawling company whose owner was appointed by the Israeli tourism ministry as its culinary ambassador for Israel in 2017. Solomonov is an Israeli chef who owns four restaurants in the Philadelphia area under the CookNSolo banner.

According to a statement released by the Israeli authorities at the time, the role was designed "to champion Israel’s extraordinarily diverse and vibrant culinary landscape".

Hamilton said the company had mischaracterised United Hatzalah to staff as "non-partisan, non-military aligned, like the Red Cross", when a cursory internet search showed that not only did the charity openly collaborate with the Israeli military, they also spoke like an arm of the Israeli state.

"The influx of terrorists infiltrating Israeli territory and the resulting high number of injured individuals also prompted United Hatzalah to provide additional medical supplies and protective equipment to IDF teams on the ground," a statement issued in late October by United Hatzalah, reads.

"Since the beginning of the war, United Hatzalah medical teams have treated over 3,000 soldiers and civilians and provided more than 900 soldiers, civilians, and volunteers with psychological first aid. The organization also delivered over 30 tons of medical supplies and humanitarian aid to the IDF and residents of southern Israel," the statement added.

Hamilton said when she had discovered the information, she refused to take part in the fundraiser because she didn't want to be complicit in the genocide of Palestinians.

However, when she returned to work after the fundraiser, she said she still wanted to show solidarity with Palestinians and decided to wear a pin bearing the Palestinian flag on her shirt.

A few days later, the company came out with a new policy that banned any pin or patch unrelated to the store on their uniforms.

"I wore the pin anyway in defiance of the policy and I was sent home that day," Hamilton says.

When she returned to work, she decided she needed the job and abided by the policy. But when one of her colleagues, Noah Wood, refused to take off his pin, and she wouldn't discipline him as his manager, she was fired. And so was he.

"I would never, as a manager censor someone I work with for showing their heartfelt belief in human rights," Hamilton said.

Wood, who had already resigned from his job on account of the suppression of Palestinian advocacy at the restaurant, was serving his notice period at the time when he was told to stay home.

He told MEE that it appears a customer complaint may have led to his dismissal.

"We've had LGBTQ flags up in the store. They might still be up. And one of the other locations had Black Lives Matter signage, so it wasn't as if it was an entirely politically neutral work environment," Wood said.

"You must remember Sophie and I didn't say anything. We didn't argue with customers. We weren't posting online. We were just wearing Palestine patches and pins and this seemed to make a customer uncomfortable, and this was enough for termination," he added.

Goldie and its parent company, CookNSolo, did not immediately reply to MEE's request for comment.

Activists say they remain appalled by the smear campaigns pitted against Palestinians on a daily basis. The rush to defend a business working with the Israeli army under the mask of an antisemitic attack was in line with the higher echelons of the American state to equate criticism of Israel with antisemitism, they say.

With the devastation in Gaza spiralling and the death toll ever increasing - now upwards of 16,000 Palestinians - organisers say the rapid resort to smear those who dare to raise the plight of Palestinians was the surest sign that officials had run out of excuses to justify the support of Israel.

Activists say the flurry of support for the Israeli-owned business also showed the close ties between the US political establishment and Israel-aligned businesses.

"The hypocrisy of our elected officials is despicable. Within a couple hours of our protest, Pennsylvania's Governor Josh Shapiro and others ran to Twitter to accuse us of antisemitism with absolutely no context and no facts," Abulhalwa, with the Philly Palestine Coalition, said.

"No one from their offices reached out to us to 'investigate'," Abulhalwa added.

Organisers said US politicians were constantly attempting to portray pro-Palestinian protesters as unhinged or violent when it was the US state that was supporting genocide in Gaza and it was Palestinians in the US who have either been killed or physically attacked.

In its report about the call made by Emhoff, the US vice president's husband, to Solomonov, the owner of Goldie, NBC News reported that the duo spoke about "how food was actually supposed to bring people together rather than be a source of division"

Likewise, Pennsylvania's Governor Shapiro, who was among the first to condemn the protests outside Goldie, baked bread with its owner, Solomonov, as recently as September.

"Being an Israeli ambassador is a big part of Solomonov's brand," Leila, a Jewish-American who took part in the protest outside Goldie on Sunday, said.

Leila, who offered only her first name to MEE, said the suggestion that any part of the action outside the restaurant may have been construed as antisemitic was simply absurd.

June, the former employee at Goldie, who had watched the protest from inside the store itself, said the charge of antisemitism was divorced from reality.

"They didn't come to the restaurant simply because it was Jewish-owned. If that was the case, they would've gone to hundreds of restaurants across the city," June said.

Likewise, Abuhalwa said the smears against Palestinians were once more exposing a double standard toward Palestinian life.

"Palestinian protesters being held at gunpoint by a racist, Islamophobe is a hate crime. Palestinians being shot for wearing keffiyehs is a hate crime. A grown man stabbing a little boy for being Muslim is a hate crime. Using your First Amendment rights and peacefully protesting is not a hate crime.

"They accused us of targeting Goldie because it's Jewish-owned, which is far from the truth. Solomonov is not being targeted due to his religious beliefs, but rather his ties to a violent apartheid state that is currently enacting a genocide," Abuhalwa added.

Meanwhile, June, the 24-year-old who lost his job at Goldie for supporting the protesters, says he has no regrets.

"If I could educate more people on how this company feels about Palestinians being killed, I'd gladly do it in a heartbeat," June said.

"I will always advocate and support anyone who advocates for a ceasefire and an end to the occupation of Palestine," they added.

#palestine #bds #lmao #the way people are fully defending corporations #but anyways im sharing this so you know who else to add to your bds list if you need

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wandasfifthwife · 14 days

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good girl ₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺

—wandanat x fem/afab!reader

༺ tw || SMUT MDNI, discussion on kinks/titles/roles (but not detailed), exhibition & choking kink mentioned, dom/sub dynamic, dom!wandanat & sub!reader, top!wandanat & bottom!reader, R gets needy from a wet dream, oral&fingering (r receiving | n giving), reader is described to be wearing a nightgown, reader is described to be shy, not proofread

༺ a/n || I’ve never personally been in a dom/sub relationship, so if I get things wrong that’s why! If you’re getting into one— don’t use this as a guide/reference

— masterlist ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ 3.0k words₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺ next part —

A buzz raps against your bedside table, the sound officially pulling you out of your morning stir. With bleary eyes, you reach across the bed to pull your phone off the charger. The movement brings you out of the warmth and comfort your sheets provide, hence making you shiver once your arm hits the cold air surrounding your room.

After pulling the phone under the covers you shut the alarm off, unlocking it to view the notifications sent since you’ve fallen asleep.

The door creeks open, whoever opening it trying to be quiet but the door’s old age didn’t allow them to do so. Your roommate peeks her head in, eyes landing on your curled position in bed.

“My word it’s freezing in here,” she starts, moving out of the doorframe to check the thermostat, “if I woke you up, I am so sorry—I was going to call maintenance to check in on your room, wanted to come see if it was still freezing.”

As if on cue you shiver again, pulling the blanket higher until it brushes your chin, “it is.”

A grim expression comes into her face, she apologizes again, “I’ll call them now. They should be here tonight.”

You voice your appreciation, staying under the sheets until the numbers on your clock read noon. It was a lazy morning, all movements were slow and relaxed. The shower was turned until steam came off the top, the burning feeling decidedly better than the chill running throughout your entire body.

There were plans written on your phone’s calendar, the moment tonight a result from the events from the previous week. There had been more plans since three first meeting at the cafe, each moment spent together better than the last. Since the cafe, they’ve met you wherever it was that you’d like.

Whether it be at a bookstore, where the two whispered reassurances over your fretting on them paying for your books. Even at times when you three had colliding schedules they still made an effort, it showed in how they took a walk with you by the water. The ocean was rough, waves crashing and pushing against another, but the sound it made was entirely peaceful. You remember where your walk ended, where you three stopped so you could watch the water stretch and collide with the orange and pink sky.

“Beautiful.”

Wanda had whispered close to your ear, body leaned so close to yours, chest pushed up against your back. You had welcomed the advances from her, letting the motion also push you into Natasha until you three were cuddled up together. It brought a smile to your face to experience such a moment. It was when you decided it was best to share the news about signing off of the paper work on Tuesday. This all transpired a day ago on Sunday, meaning that discussion was happening tonight.

Remembering that this event is what you were getting ready for brought a multitude of emotions to run about. Any word within the synonym group to embarrassed and excitement would be hitting the mark on what you were feeling.

You’ve been keeping your friend in the loop, sending her text updates often and feeling thankful for her support. Shes aware of what’s transpiring tonight, her contact information appearing in your phone as you were finishing getting ready.

“You know, your mind doesn’t really know the difference between fear and excitement. So I suggest convincing yourself that you’re only excited.”

“I think I’d only be successful in telling it how scared I am,” you say as you shut your drawer, “because I really can only see how this will affect me negatively.”

“Expand on that.”

There’s a pause in the conversation as you throw on a shirt, “I mean, we’re going to be talking about what I’m interested in doing intimately. What if they find me weird, or they don’t want to do what I’d like to do and get rid of me?”

“First I’ll say that all you’re feeling is valid. Second, you’re being too harsh on yourself. This past week you’ve been getting to know each other, and going off of how you’ve been rambling to me after, I’d say they’re going well. Let tonight play out, be in the moment.”

You hum your response, sitting beside your phone to slip your shoes on, “okay.”

“I’ve known them like what—like two years now? They’re going to work with you, not against you. But if at any point you feel uncomfortable, you’re always free to leave whenever and call me, or security. Your wellbeing comes first.”

“Thank you, seriously.”

Three beeping sounds emit after, your lock screen appearing. There were four numbers glaring back at you, eliciting a response to start walking towards their apartment complex.

The map on your phone was confusing, stating that their location was to the left of you when it was across the street.

Natasha stood at the entrance, holding the door for you to step in. The inside was simple, light blue wallpaper lining the walls. You’ve become awkward, the feeling instigate by the nerves spiking being along with her. She lets you go through the second door first after unlocking it, letting the heavier door swing close behind her, “How was your walk?“

“Cold. It’s rather chilly today.”

Natasha walks in front to lead you up the staircase, “not a fan of the cold?”

“No, I much prefer the 70s, the mix between cold and hot.”

Three staircases later and the numbers 302 are staring back at you. Their door has a wreath outside, one decorated with red florals. Wanda comes to greet the door, letting the both of you in, even moving to hang your coat.

“Glad you got here safely,” she starts, “it gets dark so soon now that we’re rolling into winter.”

You’re entirely too thankful that they’ve begun to tell you where you can go and what you can do. They’ve opened up their home to you, but even then you weren’t sure if it was okay to sit down on the couch yet.

“Would you like a drink? I have water, tea?”

“Oh that’s alright, I’ll be fine.”

She pats your shoulder, “it’s alright if you’d like one, I’m offering.”

“Tea?”

She smiles, moving into the kitchen after. Natasha had sat across from you on another couch, laptop settled on her lap. It gave you a moment to look around, to take in their home for the first time. It was a combination of clean and messy. They had papers thrown over the cushioned footrest, shoes set carefully by the door. A pair of broken glasses were set on the tv mantle, and a tall vase beside it with tulips. Wanda comes in, setting the hot cup on the table in front of you.

“Do you like the flowers,” she asks, noticing where your gaze was transfixed, “natasha got them from a coworker.”

“Any specific reason?”

Natasha looks up from her laptop momentarily, meeting Wanda’s gaze. She speaks up, “I got asked out.”

“Oh,” you say, “at least you got nice flowers.”

Wanda laughs at the way Natasha squirms, “yeah, nice flowers. Do you need anything else?”

You shake your head, waving her off. She leaves again momentarily, the item appearing in her hand that makes you nervous again. The papers.

It was a conversation you wanted to have, you all wanted to have, but the discussion of such intimate acts felt more embarrassing than acting them out. They notice the way you’ve begun to look away, focus set outside the window.

You notice Natasha setting her MacBook away in your peripheral vision.

“Kitten,” Natasha starts, the new nickname rolling off of her lips instantly catching your attention, “are you okay with that?”

You appreciate her asking, the way her tone went soft after witnessing your reaction. It wasn’t unpleasant, it held the complete opposite reaction. The action of you nodding yet again has her speaking up, “words.”

“Yes, that’s okay.”

Natasha smiles at you, the sight easing your nerves. Wanda’s knee lands on the edge of the couch, leaning her body onto it until she’s sitting down.

“You sent these to us a day ago and we’ve reviewed it all, signed our parts as well. We’ll have those papers in my office if you ever want or need to view them while you’re over here,” she explains, setting a few pages down, “how’re you feeling about the next few?”

“Good, shy.”

“That’s alright. Tell if if you need to stop, okay?”

She’s begun to list them off, each one bringing a tinge of red to your cheeks. Your hand has come to fidget with your necklace, agreeing with the statements Wanda was reading off.

“It’s quite funny how most everything lines up with our responses.”

“Really?”

She hums, handing the papers over to Natasha, “you’re interested in all of the kinks we’re interested in, like your exhibition and choking one.”

“Wow,” you say, fingers tugging at your necklace, pulling it until the chain can’t be moved any further out.

“Did that make you nervous just now?”

Natasha asks, noticing the habit of fidgeting with a necklace arising any time a difficult situation arose. You let go of it, moving to hold the warm glass, the scent of the chamomile tea rushing to you.

“It did, but that’s only because I don’t like direct conversations. I’m better when things play out and you’re lost in the moment, but I understand this needs to be talked about.”

“We can call it a night then. If you’d like you can stay over, whatever you’d like. Please let us order an Uber though if you decide to go home, Natasha was having a fit about you walking home the other day.”

Wanda throws a look at Natasha, pressing a kiss to your head as she walks by. Natasha takes the jab, grabbing at her computer again, “and I won’t apologize for that.“

“If I were to stay tonight, where would I sleep?”

“With us,” Wanda says from the other room, “you’re not sleeping on these couches and certainly not the ground—unless you’d like to.”

“Could I stay over then?”

Wanda laughs, “you’re so sweet, of course you can. You can borrow either of our clothes, world knows how uncomfortable it is to sleep in jeans.”

Natasha shows you to the bathroom, clicking on the light so she can set the pajamas you had picked out on the counter. It was small, but larger than the one you had back with your roommates. It smelled like them, their scents overwhelming your senses when you walked in.

“The shower handles weird to use, so I’ll start that for you. I’ll leave the door unlocked just in case, okay?”

The knobs were weird. There were three of them, one for hot water, cold water, and the third to turn the pressure to come from the lower or higher nozzle. You’re thankful for her to figure it out, setting it where it was perfect. The first temperature was entirely too cold, apparently the temperature Natasha showers with in the morning.

She let you be, shutting the door and leaving you alone. All the options you had for soap were theirs. The bottles read “vanilla,” explaining why their scent was sweet. You shivered when the cold air hit, missing the warmth the water provided. The nightgown you chose was comfortable, the silk fabric to blame for that.

Wanda was still in the living room, a lamp on beside her. The room beside her had the light turned on, rustling coming from inside.

“Could you help me?”

“With what?”

“I couldn’t figure out how to turn off the shower, I’m sorry.”

Wanda sets the book down, moving past you, “you’re too kind, don’t worry about that. You can wait with Natasha, she’s already in the room.”

You assume the room with the light on is their bedroom. Natasha was leaning on the side, feet kicked off the side of the bed. She closed the drawer, sitting further back on the bed. You grow nervous again, standing in the doorway awkwardly.

“What’re you thinking about?”

“When will of it will start?”

“Whenever you’d like it to.”

A deep breath comes from you, your finger playing with the edge of your dress, “could we start tonight?”

“What’d you say? Speak a bit louder.”

“Could we start tonight? Start small?”

Her body relaxes, gesturing for you to come closer. There’s a slight tickling sensation as her hand brushes against the back of your thigh, lifting you to straddle her waist.

“You don’t have to do anything. Just relax and only speak if we ask you.”

It’s not difficult to listen to her when her hand brushes against your back in such a manner. Wanda wonders in later, taking to Natasha about something but it all became background noise. It almost lulls you to sleep, your mind on the cusp of falling into the dream world until Natasha had patted your leg.

“We’re turning the lights off, can you lay down for me?”

You rest between them, your back against Natasha’s. Wanda faces you, her hands brushing gently against your cheek. It only took a second for Natasha to begin snoring, her deep breaths hitting your back, making you scoot closer into Wanda.

“She bothering you? If we need to, I can make her sleep on the couch.”

“Oh no that’s alright, I like her here.”

Wanda smiles, leaning to press a kiss to your lips, “me too. Now sleep, it’s late.”

You adjust, finding the most comfortable spot to be resting your face under hers.

𓂃𓂃𓂃•𓂃𓂃𓂃

It’s driving you crazy, feeling her hands rub all over you but not where you need it the most. She’s been kissing you breathlessly, all on purpose so she can hear your shaky gasps of air.

“Please,” you beg, pushing your hips up, “touch me.”

“Where?”

You grab her hand, leaving it resting over your clothed cunt, “here please, I need it so bad.”

Her fingers push your underwear aside, not giving you any warning as she pushes one in, “you’re soaked.”

A whine tumbles from you, hands gripping tighter onto her wrist, “more, not enough.”

She listens, pressing another in, the stretch making you whine louder. You beg each time, grinding down onto her fingers. Each thrust pulling a, ‘more,’ from you, stating how you can take it.

“Does it feel good, kitten? You’re gripping my fingers.”

“Kitten?”

You gasp, eyes shooting open to find Natasha above you. She’s leaning over, using her hand by your head to balance herself. Her other hand was on your shoulder, presumably used to shake you awake.

“Are you alright? You were mumbling and moving around, I wanted to make sure you weren’t having a bad—“

“Touch me.”

“What.”

You clamber back, twisting your body away from hers, “nevermind.”

“No, tell me what you just said.”

“Touch me.”

It was quieter than the first time you said it but Natasha heard it.

“Remember the safe word colors we talked about, I want you to use those, okay?”

Her fingers hold your chin, moving you so you make eye contact with her, “use your words and look me in the eyes.”

“Okay,” you say, voice airy.

The moment she’s leaning down to kiss you, you’re reaching for more. She’s meeting you where you’re at, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. The sounds you make drive her crazy, they’re intoxicating. Her lips move down to your neck, biting at your collarbones to make you gasp.

“Hnn-!”

“Such a needy little thing,” she mouths, pulling your dress down to press a kiss to your nipple, “who knew you’d be so adorable.”

It’s the bare minimum and almost unreasonable for you to be so weak from it, but it’s her. The reason why you’re so reactive and wanting is because you want to feel her touch.

“Oh Natasha please,” you whine, grinding your hips down onto her clothed thigh. Natasha eyes the movement, groaning when she sees the wet patch you’ve left behind.

“Call me by my name and I’ll give you what you want.”

“Daddy, please.”

Your back is pushed into the pillows when she lifts your hips to slide your underwear completely off. You move to take off the dress but she stops you, “leave it on, you look beautiful.”

You really do, and she wishes you could see what she does. The strap handing off your shoulder, the bottom of it pooled around your waist. You moan so loud Natasha worries the neighbors might hear when her tongue licks up your folds.

“Shh,” she presses a kiss to your inner thigh, “be quiet.”

You try, the hand over your mouth your best attempt at keeping quiet. It becomes difficult to with how good she eats you out that you have to bite down on your fist. She praises you, telling you how good you listen to her.

You keen when she presses a finger in, the size of her fingers spreading you more than your dream had. Her hands on gripping your thighs open, amused at how shaky they get once she’s begun to thrust her finger in.

“Ah—! Not enough, please I need more.”

She’s compliant, already pushing another in and oh her view was heavenly. Your back arching, hips pushing onto her fingers. It’s a sight that almost makes her moan. Her own thighs grow wet seeing how you’re squirming from her ministrations. The moment she’s pushing another in, you’re already begging her to

“Oh yes please, please.”

“Fuck, you’re so sensitive.“

Her fingers are rough, pushing against your walls and angling them in a way that drives you closer to the edge. Her name is tumbling from your lips repeatedly like it’s all you know what to say.

“Don’t come without asking me,” she warns.

“Please let me come,” you gasp.

“Please who?”

“Please daddy,” you moan into your hand, “I’ll be good for you.”

“I know. I know you will. Go ahead.”

Her mouth latches onto your clit again, the stimulation being what you needed to reach your high. You pant, lungs heaving to get in air after. A smile making its way onto your face when Natasha slides up the bed to kiss your forehead.

“You did so well.”

“She did,” Wanda agrees from her position by the door, “I’m so proud.”

— masterlist ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ taglist below₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺ next part —

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freeleyenrashespeakstruth · 1 year

Text

By Kitty Werthmann

“I am a witness to history.

“I cannot tell you that Hitler took Austria by tanks and guns; it would distort history.

If you remember the plot of the Sound of Music, the Von Trapp family escaped over the Alps rather than submit to the Nazis. Kitty wasn’t so lucky. Her family chose to stay in her native Austria. She was 10 years old, but bright and aware. And she was watching.

“We elected him by a landslide – 98 percent of the vote,” she recalls.

She wasn’t old enough to vote in 1938 – approaching her 11th birthday. But she remembers.

“Everyone thinks that Hitler just rolled in with his tanks and took Austria by force.”

No so.

Hitler is welcomed to Austria

“In 1938, Austria was in deep Depression. Nearly one-third of our workforce was unemployed. We had 25 percent inflation and 25 percent bank loan interest rates.

Farmers and business people were declaring bankruptcy daily. Young people were going from house to house begging for food. Not that they didn’t want to work; there simply weren’t any jobs.

“My mother was a Christian woman and believed in helping people in need. Every day we cooked a big kettle of soup and baked bread to feed those poor, hungry people – about 30 daily.’

“We looked to our neighbor on the north, Germany, where Hitler had been in power since 1933.” she recalls. “We had been told that they didn’t have unemployment or crime, and they had a high standard of living.

“Nothing was ever said about persecution of any group – Jewish or otherwise. We were led to believe that everyone in Germany was happy. We wanted the same way of life in Austria. We were promised that a vote for Hitler would mean the end of unemployment and help for the family. Hitler also said that businesses would be assisted, and farmers would get their farms back.

“Ninety-eight percent of the population voted to annex Austria to Germany and have Hitler for our ruler.

“We were overjoyed,” remembers Kitty, “and for three days we danced in the streets and had candlelight parades. The new government opened up big field kitchens and everyone was fed.

“After the election, German officials were appointed, and, like a miracle, we suddenly had law and order. Three or four weeks later, everyone was employed. The government made sure that a lot of work was created through the Public Work Service.

“Hitler decided we should have equal rights for women. Before this, it was a custom that married Austrian women did not work outside the home. An able-bodied husband would be looked down on if he couldn’t support his family. Many women in the teaching profession were elated that they could retain the jobs they previously had been re- quired to give up for marriage.

“Then we lost religious education for kids

“Our education was nationalized. I attended a very good public school.. The population was predominantly Catholic, so we had religion in our schools. The day we elected Hitler (March 13, 1938), I walked into my schoolroom to find the crucifix replaced by Hitler’s picture hanging next to a Nazi flag. Our teacher, a very devout woman, stood up and told the class we wouldn’t pray or have religion anymore. Instead, we sang ‘Deutschland, Deutschland, Uber Alles,’ and had physical education.

“Sunday became National Youth Day with compulsory attendance. Parents were not pleased about the sudden change in curriculum. They were told that if they did not send us, they would receive a stiff letter of warning the first time. The second time they would be fined the equivalent of $300, and the third time they would be subject to jail.”

And then things got worse.

“The first two hours consisted of political indoctrination. The rest of the day we had sports. As time went along, we loved it. Oh, we had so much fun and got our sports equipment free.

“We would go home and gleefully tell our parents about the wonderful time we had.

“My mother was very unhappy,” remembers Kitty. “When the next term started, she took me out of public school and put me in a convent. I told her she couldn’t do that and she told me that someday when I grew up, I would be grateful. There was a very good curriculum, but hardly any fun – no sports, and no political indoctrination.

“I hated it at first but felt I could tolerate it. Every once in a while, on holidays, I went home. I would go back to my old friends and ask what was going on and what they were doing.

“Their loose lifestyle was very alarming to me. They lived without religion. By that time, unwed mothers were glorified for having a baby for Hitler.

“It seemed strange to me that our society changed so suddenly. As time went along, I realized what a great deed my mother did so that I wasn’t exposed to that kind of humanistic philosophy.

“In 1939, the war started, and a food bank was established. All food was rationed and could only be purchased using food stamps. At the same time, a full-employment law was passed which meant if you didn’t work, you didn’t get a ration card, and, if you didn’t have a card, you starved to death.

“Women who stayed home to raise their families didn’t have any marketable skills and often had to take jobs more suited for men.

“Soon after this, the draft was implemented.

“It was compulsory for young people, male and female, to give one year to the labor corps,” remembers Kitty. “During the day, the girls worked on the farms, and at night they returned to their barracks for military training just like the boys.

“They were trained to be anti-aircraft gunners and participated in the signal corps. After the labor corps, they were not discharged but were used in the front lines.

“When I go back to Austria to visit my family and friends, most of these women are emotional cripples because they just were not equipped to handle the horrors of combat.

“Three months before I turned 18, I was severely injured in an air raid attack. I nearly had a leg amputated, so I was spared having to go into the labor corps and into military service.

“When the mothers had to go out into the work force, the government immediately established child care centers.

“You could take your children ages four weeks old to school age and leave them there around-the-clock, seven days a week, under the total care of the government.

“The state raised a whole generation of children. There were no motherly women to take care of the children, just people highly trained in child psychology. By this time, no one talked about equal rights. We knew we had been had.

“Before Hitler, we had very good medical care. Many American doctors trained at the University of Vienna..

“After Hitler, health care was socialized, free for everyone. Doctors were salaried by the government. The problem was, since it was free, the people were going to the doctors for everything.

“When the good doctor arrived at his office at 8 a.m., 40 people were already waiting and, at the same time, the hospitals were full.

“If you needed elective surgery, you had to wait a year or two for your turn. There was no money for research as it was poured into socialized medicine. Research at the medical schools literally stopped, so the best doctors left Austria and emigrated to other countries.

“As for healthcare, our tax rates went up to 80 percent of our income. Newlyweds immediately received a $1,000 loan from the government to establish a household. We had big programs for families.

“All day care and education were free. High schools were taken over by the government and college tuition was subsidized. Everyone was entitled to free handouts, such as food stamps, clothing, and housing.

“We had another agency designed to monitor business. My brother-in-law owned a restaurant that had square tables.

“Government officials told him he had to replace them with round tables because people might bump themselves on the corners. Then they said he had to have additional bathroom facilities. It was just a small dairy business with a snack bar. He couldn’t meet all the demands.

“Soon, he went out of business. If the government owned the large businesses and not many small ones existed, it could be in control.

“We had consumer protection, too

“We were told how to shop and what to buy. Free enterprise was essentially abolished. We had a planning agency specially designed for farmers. The agents would go to the farms, count the livestock, and then tell the farmers what to produce, and how to produce it.

“In 1944, I was a student teacher in a small village in the Alps. The villagers were surrounded by mountain passes which, in the winter, were closed off with snow, causing people to be isolated.

“So people intermarried and offspring were sometimes retarded. When I arrived, I was told there were 15 mentally retarded adults, but they were all useful and did good manual work.

“I knew one, named Vincent, very well. He was a janitor of the school. One day I looked out the window and saw Vincent and others getting into a van.

“I asked my superior where they were going. She said to an institution where the State Health Department would teach them a trade, and to read and write. The families were required to sign papers with a little clause that they could not visit for 6 months.

“They were told visits would interfere with the program and might cause homesickness.

“As time passed, letters started to dribble back saying these people died a natural, merciful death. The villagers were not fooled. We suspected what was happening. Those people left in excellent physical health and all died within 6 months. We called this euthanasia.

“Next came gun registration. People were getting injured by guns. Hitler said that the real way to catch criminals (we still had a few) was by matching serial numbers on guns. Most citizens were law-abiding and dutifully marched to the police station to register their firearms. Not long afterwards, the police said that it was best for everyone to turn in their guns. The authorities already knew who had them, so it was futile not to comply voluntarily.

“No more freedom of speech. Anyone who said something against the government was taken away. We knew many people who were arrested, not only Jews, but also priests and ministers who spoke up.

“Totalitarianism didn’t come quickly, it took 5 years from 1938 until 1943, to realize full dictatorship in Austria. Had it happened overnight, my countrymen would have fought to the last breath. Instead, we had creeping gradualism. Now, our only weapons were broom handles. The whole idea sounds almost unbelievable that the state, little by little eroded our freedom.”

“This is my eyewitness account.

“It’s true. Those of us who sailed past the Statue of Liberty came to a country of unbelievable freedom and opportunity.

“America is truly is the greatest country in the world. “Don’t let freedom slip away.

“After America, there is no place to go.”

Kitty Werthmann

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deltaromeo3 · 11 months

Text

ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ⋆ Lando Norris

pairing: Lando Norris x childhood!friend reader

summary: Good or bad, she was always there for him. But things between them changes once he starts to become rich and famous; but it’s not for the reason you think it is.

requested by: this ask

A/N: changed it up a lil! Hope you don’t mind. Enjoy!🫶🏼

How could he forget the one person who was always there for him?

You knew Lando since he was racing in karts. Heck, maybe even before that. But this was a given since your brother was best friends with Lando.

Of course, with that comes the inevitable; liking your brother’s friend. You had no idea when it started but maybe it was that one summer day in Italy.

You were on summer break with Lando, your brother (of course) and their group of friends. This was a yearly thing, and they would always head down to Italy. This year, you decided to tag along after much bugging from Lando.

You were laying down at the back of Lando’s yacht reading a book while the rest were out swimming. Your peace and quiet was rudely interrupted when Lando splashed water on you, getting you wet.

“What was that for?!” You yelled.

“C’mon!” He gestures. “The water’s nice!”

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “I will if you promise to buy me a new copy,” You showed him your now damp book.

He laughs, “Just one? I can buy you ten.. a hundred even.”

“Whatever,” You rolled your eyes. Cocky.

Nonetheless, you jumped in the water. He swims up to you.

“Liking Italy so far?” He asks.

“Yeah. It- it’s good.” You stuttered as you were shocked by the sudden closeness in proximity.

He smiles. “Good. I’ll make sure to bring you back here every year, kay?”

“You don’t have to,”

“I want to. I like having you around. Your brother? Not so much. He’s such an annoying-“ The conversation cuts off when your brother splashes water on the both of you, well mostly Lando.

“Oi!” He calls out.

“…prick!” Lando splashes water back at him and they start fighting.

You laughed at their antics. It has always been like this since young.

With the closeness, came questions.

It was obvious that you were someone important to him.

Whenever you came by to his home in Monaco, the fridge would be stocked with your favourite drinks and the pantry would be filled with your favourite snacks. When your brother found out, all he said was “Oh I see that he has favourites. And it’s not me.”

You liked spending time with him, and he made it very clear he liked having you around.

Fans would even ask about you on his live streams.

And most of the times, he would call out for you (if you were with him of course.)

You would always smile and wave to the fans and it was like they would go ape-shit over you. Some even asked if you two were really friends, and you confirmed it by saying yes. He didn’t like you like that anyway.

It has been a month. A month of Lando giving you the cold shoulder.

It started off when he didn’t acknowledge your presence in the garage. You knew something was off, but you didn’t want to bug him about it.

Usually, after every race he would bring you to dinner at a fancy restaurant. He would even go as far as asking recommendations from other drivers.

He knew you loved food and that it was your first in every country you went to with him, so he made a promise that after every race, good or bad, he would always bring you out.

But that night, after his race in Monaco, all you got was a “sorry I’m calling it an early night” text from Lando.

What a prick!

You were gutted as you were already dressed up. You sighed, throwing your purse on the bed.

That night, when you lay in bed, scrolling on Instagram, you saw his Instagram story. Lando did not call it an early night. In fact, he was partying with the other drivers. This obviously surprised you but you thought nothing of it.

Of course, you still went to his races, but it was like you were invisible now. Suddenly coming every Sunday started to feel like a waste of time; the person you supported didn’t even acknowledge your existence.

“And where are you off to?” Your brother asks.

You shrugged. “He doesn’t even want me here anyways,” You took your headset off and left.

You walked away from McLaren’s garage to go walk around the paddock… and right to Ferrari’s.

What better way to spend your time, right? Going somewhere you were actually wanted.

You walked into the garage, a sea of red hitting you. You weren’t used to this… you were much more familiar with the orange walls instead of red. The workers greeted you and you did the same.

“Cariño!” He shouts as soon as he sees you. He walks over to you, engulfing you in a hug. “What are you doing here?”

You smile. “Why? Can’t I come see my favourite driver?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Favourite?” He laughs. “Isn’t your favourite Lando?”

You rolled your eyes at the question. “Not anymore. It’s you now.”

He blushed. “Well, I’m honoured. And please, stay as long as you want.”

“I will.”

“Good. I’ll be back.” He disappears into the sea of mechanics and you stayed, watching him from the back of the garage.

This had been going on for a while, and obviously your brother had caught on.

At first, he too was confused to as why his best friend wasn’t talking to his sister anymore, he figured it was because the two of you fought, but that wasn’t the case. The pair of you never fight. A few disagreements maybe, mostly because Lando wouldn’t last a day without talking to you.

But soon, the reason behind that became clear on one night he was over at Lando’s, gaming with him.

The laughter dies down. So I decided to pop the question. Y’know, rip it off like a bandaid or whatever.

“Lan,” I call out.

He hums in response.

“What’s up with you and y/n? Everything okay? You know I can always talk to her for you right?”

I see him let out a heavy breathe. “Nothing’s wrong,”

I squint. I know he’s lying. “Really?”

He nods.

“Cmon Lan.” I nudge him. “I’ve known you for years. What is it?”

He sighs, “It’s nothing Dylan. Nothing is going on.”

I sigh, “Well she’s saying she thinks it’s because you’re famous now, that the fame has gotten to your head. And I know that’s not it cause I’m sitting here playing games with you. She’s upset, Lan. Talk to her, will you?”

He laughs, but not because what I said was funny, more like in disbelief. “Tell her to talk to Carlos instead.”

I snap my head towards him. “Carlos? What does he have to do with this?”

“You should ask your sister,” He says, unhappily.

“Now why would I do that? You know I dont like prying into her life.”

“But you should. They’re getting close.” He scoffs.

“And what’s wrong with that? Wait, don’t tell me you’re jealous?”

He laughs, again. “I’m n-not jealous!”

“You’re lying! Lando!” I smacked his arm.

“Dylan I swear, I’m not!”

“You like my sister!”

“I do not!”

“You son of a bitch! I knew it! You like my sister.” Now it was my turn to laugh in disbelief.

“Shut up.” He says. “If word gets out I know who I’ll have to kill.”

“Your secret’s safe with me. But you have to talk to her though.”

He just hums in response.

You were scrolling on tiktok, waiting for Carlos to be done with changing. You came across a video of Lando and you. It was posted by what you assumed was a fan.

The video showed him looking at you. And it wasn’t a “that’s my bestfriend” kinda look… it was more of a “i adore you” look.

You scrolled past that tiktok video, brushing it off. Maybe you were overthinking it.

The video below that was of the same thing, just from another angle. You were so engrossed in the video you didn’t even realise Carlos was calling out for you.

“Cariño?”

You snapped out of the trance, quickly switching off your phone.

“Carlos,” You smile.

“Ready to go?”

You hum in response.

You no longer joined Lando for race weekends anymore. As sad as you were, you figured well, this was one way to get rid of a crush and someone who has been there for him this entire time.

You picked up your phone, calling your brother.

The line rings, and finally, “I need to talk to you,”

There was silence on the other end, “It’s about Lando, isnt it?” Your brother asks.

You sigh, “How’d you know?”

“You’re my sister. I know everything. What’s up?”

“Lando!” I shout as I entered his room.

“Lan! Lando!” I yell out once again.

“What!” I hear him respond. Sounds like it’s coming from the shower.

I barged in to the shower, Lando quickly covering himself.

“Relax. It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked.”

“Fair point.”

He relaxes and continues to shampoo his hair.

I took a seat on the toilet. “You said you’d talk to her, right?”

No response. He just goes silent. “Lando?”

“I…I have. It’s sorted.”

“Is that so… then why did she call me, crying?”

“What?” The water stops. Lando opens the glass door, poking his head out. “She’s crying? I made her cry?”

“Yeah. You did.”

“Well, shit. I fucked up, didn’t I.” He pinches the bridge of nose.

“Yeah. You did.” I repeat myself.

“I didn’t mean for it to get this bad, I swear Dylan. Everytime I try to talk to her, I can’t do it. Mate she’s got a thing for Carlos, not me.”

I laughed at the absurdity.

“Mate, you got to be shitting me. It’s my sister we’re talking about here.” I stopped. “Do you not see her lock screen? Even after all this while it’s still a picture of you during your first Euro Championship win. She still saves your contact as ‘bubba’ because that’s what she used to call you.“

I can see him form a slight smile. “Well that’s funny. I still have her contact saved as ‘nugget’.”

We laugh. “Icing her out like this is no way to do it. You love her Lan. Don’t let her think otherwise.“

You were tossing and turning, hoping to fall asleep. You figured it would be easy to fall asleep as it was raining. Usually the sound of rain usually lulls you to sleep easily. But tonight just like the other nights you were wide awake, thinking of Lando.

How could he forget me? How could he just toss me aside after all the times I was there for him? Did he just forget me because he’s rich and famous now? Do I not fit into his lifestyle? I know I’m no model but… God I miss him.

Suddenly, there was a knock on your door. The knocks were just getting more impatient. You groaned, leaving your bed. “I’m coming! Jesus.”

You unlocked the door in frustration, but all that frustration went away when the person who stood in front of your door was none other than Lando Norris.

“L-lando?” You croaked. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“Hey,” He smiles. “Can I come in?”

“Uh, o-of course.” You stepped aside as he enters.

He clears his throat. You were still confused. When did he come home?

“So, listen.” He says, as he takes a seat. “I’m…” He exhales. “I’m here to apologise. It’s not that I forgot you, or that you don’t fit into my lifestyle. You do, and you are one of the few people that understands this more than anyone. So,” He pauses, gathering all the courage he has. “I’m here to say that, yes.”

Yes what?

“Yes, I do like you. I’ve liked you since you took that trophy off my hands in Italy. I’m sorry I hurt you. And please, don’t ever doubt your place in my life, you’re always on top… after my career of course.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What took you so long?”

“What?”

“I said, what took you-“

“No I heard you the first time. I dunno.” He shrugs.

There was silence between the two of you. “Okay.” Was all you could say.

He leaves your apartment, relieved but unsatisfied. Maybe he was expecting a kiss. A hug? Maybe even for you to jump on him and cry?

He unlocks his car. It was pouring. When he was about to enter his car, a familiar voice stops him.

“Lando!” You stood, under the rain.

He rushes over to you. “What are you doing?! You’re gonna catch a cold! Your brother’s gonna kill me.”

You laugh. “I forgot to tell you,”

“Tell me what?”

“That I like you too. About damn time!”

He smiles. The widest you’ve ever seen. “Really? You don’t have a thing for Carlos?”

“No, I don’t. I’ve always had a thing for you though,”

He smiles, again. “Well, me too. I’m sorry it took me so long,”

“It’s okay. I was waiting. I was here all along.” You smile. He holds your face, brushing the rain on your face away with his thumbs. The gap between you two closes as he kisses you under the rain.

You pull away, “It’s not safe for you to drive home. And I need someone to keep me warm,” You flash him a cheeky smile.

“I’ll gladly be your human heater,” He says, kissing you once again.

#lando norris #f1 x you #f1 #f1 imagines #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #deltaromeo3 #lando norris fic #lando norris imagines #f1 fic #one shot

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sykokilljoyy · 1 year

Text

secrets - wroetoshaw imagine

request: none! however it does kind of link to a few :p words: 1538 warnings: little bit embarrassing i can't lie. implied smut, allusions to sex, but generally just a lot of second hand embarrassment.

tl;dr: harry and y/n have been seeing each other for a while, but the secret's out when harry accidentally exposes some very intimate truths

“Come on, Harry,” Simon laughed, glee written all over his features. He holds onto JJ for support, who chuckled beside him.

“Boys, this is awful!” Harry‘s cheeks were burning, laughing along in front of the camera, which was setup haphazardly on the astro-turf football pitch.

“You said you would do it!” Ethan yelled playfully, holding his friend to his word, “At least give us odds.”

“Fine. Odds of 1-10,” Harry sighed.

It was just a stupid forfeit. He’d accidentally hit the goalpost and due to the rules of the Sidemen Sunday, he would have to do the next 3 penalties with his shirt off. It was the middle of January, so the bite of cold was nipping at his neck already, intruding through his layers of clothing.

“Bet,” Ethan giggled from behind the camera.

“Alright, boys,” Simon called, “3…2…1…”

“Six.”

“Fuck!” Harry cursed, a pit of nervousness pooling in his stomach.

The boisterous whoops and laughs from his friends helped to spur him on a little, but he had never been very confident in front of the camera, let alone topless in the middle of winter, outside the safety confines of his flat. A little part of him was beyond thankful that you were here, tucked behind the camera to help with filming. None of the boys knew, but Harry and yourself had been seeing each other in secret.

It started with just hanging out after filming every so often, grabbing lunch or rides home, just enjoying getting to know each other as a little more than acquaintances. This, however, turned quickly into a couple dates, which fell into long nights and messy mornings, legs tangled in his bed and hands reaching to wherever they could. Not that either of you were ashamed of the other, but there was a certain thrill of keeping it all under the covers that neither were fast to get rid of.

“Come on, Bog,” Ethan hollered. This triggered a wave of ceremonious chants, something along the lines of ‘get your tits out’ from his friends.

Sighing in defeat, Harry shook his jacket off hastily, presuming that if he just gets it over and done with, it’ll be less mortifying. Cheers continued until he was down to his last layer, only himself noting the memory of you wearing this exact t-shirt in his flat the night before, he tried not to think of the fact it still smelt like you.

As his lifted the shirt above his head, the blush dusted upon his freckled shoulders very visible, silence fell on the group. Now, it really wasn’t often that this hyper group of men were dead silent, but after seeing the litter of hickeys cascading down Harry’s chest, sensual scratches marking the skin of his back – a pin could drop and it would sound like something nuclear.

Behind the camera, you blushed deeply, pulling the hem of your hoodie to your nose to hide it. Your eyes followed the lines of the scratches on his back, the memories of the night before still more than fresh in your mind. Averting your gaze to the floor, you could feel your cheeks on fire. Luckily, your friends were all too distracted to notice.

“What?” Harry was immediately self-conscious at the unexpected reaction, pulling his shirt to his chest to cover himself. It was only when he caught a glimpse of something crimson, that it clicked.

“Oh fuck!”

Ethan was the first to laugh, a cackle that broke the shocked tension, the dam of silence bursting open as all of his friends jump to embarrass him.

It was a perfect overreaction, realistically it was only a couple hickeys and such, but as Harry had been historically private about his love life to his friends, this was an ideal opportunity to grill the youngest Sideman.

“Are you dating a vampire or something?” Josh joked first, earning a robust reaction from the group. Followed by waves of playful digs at the already embarrassed blonde boy, who was sheepishly pulling his shirt back over his chest.

“Who knew Harry was getting laid so much?” JJ was flabbergasted, playing up to the camera for a reaction.

“Seems like a very satisfied customer,” Simon chuckled, ruffling Harry’s hair – much to his discomfort, he pouted like a kid.

“Ask her yourself, isn’t that right, Y/N?” Josh chuckled.

He had only meant it as a joke. He had no idea of your relationship, only meaning to embarrass the boy further, as he knew Harry found you attractive.

However, when the pair of you froze like deer in headlights, your throat dry as you try and stutter a whimsical response, panicked eyes darting to each other for support, Josh’s eyes blew wide like dinner plates.

“Oh fuck, was it actually you?” All eyes were on you now, your heart pulsating loudly in your chest, waves of embarrassment hitting you. There was a reason you stayed behind the camera, the pressure of attention being directly on you made you crumble.

Harry knew that, so he spoke loudly to drag eyes back to him, now fully-clothed, “Yeah, uh, we’ve been seeing each other for a while now.”

“I knew it!” Tobi called, turning to Simon with a victorious grin on his face.

“Fuck!” Simon cursed, “I said it was bullshit.”

“How did you know?” Harry asked Tobi, blush still tainting his cheeks.

“Harry, you practically can’t keep your eyes off her when you think no one’s watching,” this made you flustered, avoiding Harry’s dazed eyes.

“Fuck sake,” JJ interrupted, everyone turning to him as he fiddled with the camera, “Does that mean we can’t use any of this footage now?”

Chuckles rose from the group, but ultimately it was down to you and Harry to make that decision. His gaze found you, blue eyes laced with affection and a tiny bit of an apology for the embarrassment. Now that the cat was out the bag, he couldn’t care who knew. Of course, there was a terrifying reality of the fans reaction, but you’d been shipped so many times it seemed redundant by now.

“No, it’s okay, I don’t mind,” You smiled nervously, Harry looking at the football on the ground to hide his boyish grin, kicking it around a little at his feet.

Before everyone hopped back into recording the Sidemen Sunday, returning to their football forfeits, he made his way to you, whilst his friends were distracted retrieving the footballs that were kicked haphazardly across the pitch.

“You okay?” He asked softly, his cold hand ghosting over yours. The pair of you were used to keeping things out of the public eye, subtle glances, fleeting touches, whispers shared whilst no one was looking.

“I’m nervous,” You replied gently, feeling tense under his watchful eye.

“Don’t be,” His head dropped to kiss your cheek carefully, letting his lips linger on your icy skin, a safe way to reassure you that he was there.

It was only small; a gentle expression scratching the surface of his affectionate ways, but your heart skittered at the feeling of his hand playing with yours and his warm lips pressing against you. The strong scent of his cologne hit you at the closeness, the heat radiating from him in the bitter January air. You were still riding the coat tails of a silly schoolgirl crush as he pulled away, the exhilaration of being able to touch him outside the privacy of closed doors spurring you on.

Reaching up, you touched his cheek savouringly, leaning up onto your tip-toes and pressing a kiss to his lips. His hand slipped under your jacket and onto your clothed waist, pulling you towards him only lightly, smiling into the kiss once he felt the corners of your lips curl. Pulling apart, he hid his flustered blush by placing a kiss to your hairline.

“Do you want to get dinner after this?” You enquired hopefully, playing with the strings of his hoodie.

“Only if I can get a couple more of these,” Harry whistled playfully, pulling the collar of his jumper down to reveal the tender, crimson love bites.

“Harry!” You buried your face in his hoodie, embarrassment heating your cheeks promptly, his chest stuttering as he chuckles at your flustered reaction.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He giggled, and you peeled yourself from his embrace, glancing over to see the rest of the group getting ready to film again.

“I’ll take you somewhere real nice, to make up for it.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that, Mr,” You punched his bicep lightly, pushing him away, back towards the camera setup, “Now, go film. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

He nodded, pressing a quick final kiss to your cheek before jogging away sheepishly, batting away the childish calls and digs from his friends.

You watched him happily, smiling at the way he carried himself, the light in his eyes as he joked and battled with his friends, an extra pep in his step as the secretive weight off his shoulders were lifted. He was finally able to care for you in public, to touch you, hold you, tuck the hair behind your ear and kiss you gently without worrying who would find out, and you the same.

It would be hard, when the video releases, and the audience would see the announcement, but you weren’t worried. As long as he was with you, you wouldn’t be scared.

However, you weren’t sure you’ll ever live down the hickeys.

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fuckinthewholetown · 23 days

Text

Fallingforyou - Matty Healy Chapter Two

Chapter two is finally here!!! Thank you all for the support on chapter one, none of the comments made me cry which means I’m clearly doing something right. I’ve tried something a bit different with this one so you finally get some insight into what the hell Matty is doing.

Tags: Angst, slight mentions of smut, swearing

Word Count: 4985

Minors do not interact!!!

Your POV

The UK/Europe leg of the tour was over in a flash, doing a full lap of Europe before you end back where you started, Wembley Stadium. Now, you have three months to relax until you kick off the North American portion of your tour in Arlington, Texas. However, there’s one thing the Lost Atlantis girls don’t know how to do and that’s take a break. Somehow, despite all of your success, you end up in a dingy Premier Inn just North of central London on a random Sunday in the beginning of July.

“If I knew you’d get free tickets to 1975 gigs, I would’ve slid into Ross’s DMs for you years ago.” You say, slicking your hair back into a low ponytail in the dim lighting of the bathroom.

“This is why I was hesitant to tell you, because now you’ve got us dressing up like we’re spy’s.” Maddie says, chuckling as she sticks a skinny black tie around her neck.

“I thought considering you’re shagging a member of the band you’d understand this but I’ll gladly explain it to you again. This is a formal situation, and there’s a dress code. It’s essentially a Matty Healy cosplay competition disguised as a concert.” You reply, exiting the bathroom and doing a spin to show Maddie your entire get up.

“I understand the whole dress code thing, what I don’t understand is why you want to follow it. All you’ve been doing for the last two months is performing and slowly falling into a downwards spiral over Matty hating you. The last thing you want to do is look like him.”

“Maddison, when will you learn? Yes, I am constantly having a mental breakdown over the fact he hates me but my power as a fan girl trumps that any day of the week. I tried getting tickets for this gig and I couldn’t, so now that God has dropped free tickets into my lap I’m going to seize this opportunity.” You respond, sitting down on the rock solid mattress probably worth about a tenner.

“That was an excellent speech, there’s a reason we make you do all the talking.” You both fall into a comfortable silence, doom scrolling until the rest of the girls are ready.

Truth be told, you were putting on a front, acting all excited to see the boys again. And you are, both because you missed them and because you’ve spent the last four years waiting to see The 1975 at Finsbury Park. Despite this, there’s still a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach. The thought of seeing Matty again and once again being rejected leaves a lump the size of a golf ball in your throat. Maddie was right, you haven’t been able to enjoy the last two months of tour. Despite traveling Europe with your best mates, performing at some of the biggest stadiums in the world, you’ve only got one thing on your mind at all times. Matty.

How he brushed you off when you first met, the snarky comments made in your direction, the infuriating nickname meant to be a jab as your band name. Despite this, the thing on the forefront of your mind is the hug. You know it was a group hug that he was forced into, and knowing how he acts towards you he would have rather been standing next to anyone else. However, all you’ve been thinking about since you last saw him was the fact the area his fingers touched has been noticeably colder since he pulled away.

You’re quickly pulled out of your shame spiral by what could best be described as an assault on your hotel room door. That means one of two things, either a mob of angry fans have found where you’re staying or the girls are finally finished getting ready. Luckily for you, it’s the second one. You have about 30 minutes until you need to leave so conversation fills the room, with the dulcet sounds of Being Funny in a Foreign Language playing in the background to hype you all up. Final touches are made to hair and makeup and next thing you know, you’re all barrelling out to the streets of London.

Despite not growing up here, London feels like a second home to you. Even though you’ve been on tour most of the time, you’ve lived here since you were eighteen so navigating the streets comes with ease to you. It’s also the one place where no one cares who you are. Everyone’s so focused on themselves, they don’t pay attention to the fact that one of the biggest bands in the world is just casually walking around next to them. It’s an introvert's dream.

You eventually get to the entrance of Finsbury Park, blending in with the thousands of fans wearing the exact same thing as you. You knew these outfits would be a good idea. Bypassing the general admissions entrance, you and the girls walk over to the VIP entrance. Introducing yourselves to the security, you’re quickly escorted through the park towards the side of the main stage.

Before you even see anyone, you hear them. The rowdy conversations echoing in the corridors, long before you even get close to reaching their dressing rooms. You hear him, his laugh as George says something out of pocket. That stupid laugh that you know you’ll never get to hear unless you’re outside the room.

“Hey boys!” Ava says, entering the dressing room and making your presence known. The room erupts with cheers at your arrival. Matty seems happy, until he makes eye contact with you and his smile drops. This is going to be a long day.

When he sees you, George immediately wraps you up in a hug that makes you actively try to keep both your feet on the floor. It’s the kind of hug that makes you forget all of life’s problems. It’s the kind of hug that makes you forget that the man you’ve dreamt about since you were sixteen is currently sitting in the corner giving you a look that could burn through your scalp.

“Todays gonna be a good day, pretty girl! We’re performing at fucking Finsbury Park! I know that’s not a big deal to miss ‘I casually play Wembley Stadium’ but it’s a big deal to us.” He says, slowly putting you down. You chuckle at his slight dig at you, knowing full well he means no harm.

“Oh George, I love how you’re always here to remind me how much more successful than you I am.” You laugh, playing into the egotistical role he’s forced you into, “but seriously, this is gonna be one hell of a gig. I had tickets back for the 2020 show, but that damn covid ruined all my dreams.”

“I always forget you’re a fan. Like, it’s so weird to imagine you just casually listening to our music before you win a Grammy.” He says, sitting down on the edge of a chair and pouring a glass of water.

“I don’t listen to music before a gig, it stresses me out too much. But you know what I make sure I do before every show? Cleanse the space.” You say, pulling out a stick of incense from your bag. George gives you an apprehensive look, clearly not buying into the hippie shit you know and love. “Come on, it can’t hurt. It’s won us 2 Grammys for album of the year. You can argue with that logic.”

“Fine, but if Matty shits himself on stage it’s on you and your incense.” He laughs, holding out his lighter. You go around the room, getting some weird stares from some and knowing stares off the girls.

“Hey, don’t knock it. She forgot to do it before a show once and the sound system stopped working halfway through and a rogue pyro burnt me and I ended up in A&E at 3am. That shit works!” Moon yelled, somehow making herself louder than the countless conversations that we’re going on at the time.

Then you got to Matty, who’s been side eyeing you the entire time you’ve been walking around the room. You make sure to linger in his area for longer than the rest, aggressively cleansing him of any negative energy.

“This is the biggest gig of your life and yet I’m getting a lot of negative energy from you. Might wanna fix that before the show.” You say, refusing to make eye contact with him.

“Whatever you say, Princess.” He scoffs, you instinctively roll your eyes as the horrendous nickname before walking off towards the rest of the group.

Luckily, you could ignore the side eyes and the snarky comments by supporting all your friends. The highlight of your day being The Bleachers. You’ve known Jack and the rest of the band for years, almost as long as you’ve been in the industry, so seeing fifty thousand people yell the lyrics to their songs makes your heart swell with pride. However, nothing will beat hearing the entire crowd chant the name of Mattys mum. Knowing the entire audience is secretly there for Denise, makes you and the rest of the girls burst out with laughter.

Before the boys go on stage, you meet them all at the side. Giving each of them a hug and your best wishes for the show. You can’t hide it, your inner fan girl starts coming out at this point. You go up to Matty, trying to create some element of peace.

“Do me a favour and play Love Me?” You say, a glint of a smile on your face. He doesn’t return the favour.

“In your dreams, Princess.” He responds, before walking off to do some final preparations before heading on stage.

However, you could forget all about this when you hear the first few notes of The 1975 from Being Funny in a Foreign Language. All of a sudden, you’re no longer the lead singer of a world famous band. You’re just a girl, standing in London, watching her favourite band perform her favourite songs. All your problems wash away, and you get absorbed by the charismatic nature of Matty.

Every so often, you’d catch the eye of one of the people on stage. Throwing up a heart to Polly, blowing a kiss to George, and giving Hann an enthusiastic thumbs up. That’s until you meet eyes with Matty. Not sure what to do, you stand there staring at him. A mischievous grin falls upon his face, a smirk that’s going to haunt your dreams. And also, the first bit of actual emotion he’s shown you. You’re unsure what to think of this, until the end of Happiness comes around.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” He says into his mic, despite putting on an act his charisma is palpable. No wonder you fell for the act. “Welcome to The 1975 At Their Very Best! Now normally, we don’t take requests this early on. Especially not from blonde bimbos who think crystals do shit. However this songs a banger and you all deserve it!”

You know what’s coming next, however it’s still whiplash hearing the opening notes to Love Me. You’re not sure how to feel. On one hand, they’re playing one of your favourite songs. On the other hand, the man who you’ve considered to be your musical inspiration just called you a blonde bimbo on stage. Clearly, you’re not hiding your disappointment as well as you thought you were as you feel Maddies arms snake around your waist.

“You good?” She whispers, barely loud enough for you to hear.

“Yeah,” you nod, “I’m great.”

The rest of the show goes off without a hitch. If you ignore the comment Matty made early on in the show, you’d go as far as to say it’s the best gig you’ve ever been to. Tim Healy singing All You Need To Hear, About You with Carly at golden hour, Be My Mistake. It’s a show teenage you would’ve dreamt of seeing.

You head backstage after the show, the energy from everyone is radiant and even Matty can’t keep up his stoic demeanor. Annoyingly, his smile lights up the room and you find yourself feeling things you haven’t felt since you were in your peak tumblr days. These feelings quickly get diminished when you realise that everytime he looks at you, the light behind his eyes dwindles.

All of your fears are washed away when you hear the familiar voice of Charli. You first met six years ago, when she opened for your band on the UK/Europe leg of your second world tour. You’ve stayed close friends since, however both of your busy schedules have kept you apart. You spot her, realising she’s mid conversation with Matty and George. Deciding to talk to her later, you turn to look for one of your bandmates however fate has other plans.

“Holy shit, come over here you sexy, blonde bitch!” She yells, dragging you over to join the conversation. She pulls you into a hug that rivals George’s from earlier in the day.

“Damn, I forgot you two know each other. Don’t know how, Charli constantly reminds me that she’d leave me for you in a heartbeat.” George laughs, handing you another drink.

“I have that effect, the girlies love me.” You reply, taking the drink off George and winking at Charli. Matty scoffs.

“Yeah, whatever you say.” Matty responds, taking a sip of his drink to muffle what he was saying. It doesn’t work, silence falls over the group. The silence is palpable, until someone decides to play Boom Clap over the speakers and the group erupts into laughter.

You can’t help but feel guilty for bringing the mood down backstage. You know it’s him who started this, but you play into it. When Ava comes over to you to inform you that everyone’s going to a local bar, you decide to opt out of it. Using the excuse that you’re tired after a long day and you just want to go back to the hotel to sleep. Once you get back, the silence envelops you. You realise it’s the first time you’ve heard nothing all day. Before you knew it, tears started rolling down your face. Over analysing the day's events didn’t help. Every comment, every look, everything he’s done towards you crosses your mind, and the more you think about it the more tears stream down your face.

You did not expect sobbing in a Premier Inn to be how you end your day.

Mattys POV

The 1975 at Finsbury Park has been a long time coming, getting canceled due to Covid when it was first announced. He’s waited for years for this moment, and it’s finally arrived. He’s sat in the dressing room with the rest of the band, conversations about who knows what are flowing. The adrenaline in the room makes everyone unusually talkative.

“I’m just saying, would we be as successful if we were worms?” George said, with the most deadpan look on his face. The room erupts into laughter, joy that is only boosted when five unexpected guests walk into the room.

“Hey boys!” The drummer of Lost Atlantis, Ava Fletcher, yells over the roaring conversation. It’s all fun and games until he spots her. They’re all dressed in their best 1975 concert attire, dressed in different variations of his suit getup. It’s her outfit that catches his eye first though. Opting for a short sleeved shirt and a mini skirt that perfectly frames her body. Her blonde, curly hair pulled up into a low ponytail. She looks annoyingly beautiful.

His face drops instinctively when he sees her, refusing to have any feelings that may give his thoughts away. He recognises the disappointment on her face, and he knows it’s his fault. He can’t help but feel guilty, knowing he’s the reason she never truly has a real smile when she’s around them. Yet he’s not sure why he does it, maybe it’s because he’s been hurt by women like her before, maybe he’s afraid of rejection. Who knows?

He can pinpoint the exact moment these feelings started, he was on a night out with the boys when Ross pulled up a video on his phone. It was a video of a girl, clearly pissed out of her mind, singing the ending of Robbers. Ross informs them it’s the lead singer of Lost Atlantis, who’s apparently been very open about being a fan for years now. However, for some unknown reason he’s never seen her face. Even drunk, she’s beautiful. The way her curls perfectly frame her face, the makeup that��s clearly been smudged by a night of drunken antics, the dress that perfectly frames her figure. She’s everything and more.

Despite acting cold towards her, the secret looks still brings a smile to his face. Watching her interact with his boys as if she’s been a member of their inner circle for years. Watching her perform at Wembley, like she was made for that stage, hiding her fear with bravado and excellent stage presence. He’s never met anyone like her.

After sitting in the corner for what feels like hours, she finally walks over to him holding a stick of incense. He’s never brought into any of that shit, but when she does it it’s weirdly endearing. The fact that she’s so set in her belief system, it just makes her more beautiful.

She stays near to him for longer than she does elsewhere, giving him the opportunity to bask in his presence for a second longer. Her perfume envelops him, luring him further down the rabbit hole. She aggressively incenses the area he’s sitting.

“This is the biggest gig of your life and yet I’m getting a lot of negative energy from you.” She says, her voice acting like a siren luring him in and yet he continues to walk to the other way. “You might wanna fix that before the show.” She continues, almost at a whisper. Without warning, his trousers suddenly become two sizes too small. If she keeps acting like this, it’s going to be a very long day for him.

“Whatever you say, Princess.” He responds, clearing his throat to try and hide any arousal that the previous comment caused. Rolling her eyes in response, he can’t help but let the intrusive thoughts roll over his mind. The thought of him being the reason she’s rolling her eyes, but instead of it being out of frustration it’s when she’s lying naked underneath him. Now his trousers are three sizes too small. He watches as she struts away from him, going back into idle conversation with the rest of the boys.

He tries his hardest to ignore her the rest of the day, which is an impossible feat when she’s so unknowingly beautiful. Watching as she jumps around to The Bleachers, or whooping and cheering George on as he steps on as drummer for The Japanese House. She’s always there, just in the corner of his eyes. He knows he hasn’t had a great life, but this is a cruel act even for God.

Despite this, he manages to pull himself together by the time he needs to get on stage. Standing in the wings, silently hyping himself up, he’s joined by the rest of the band as well as the Lost Atlantis girls. They’re wrapped up in hugs, which he reciprocates for most members of the band. Before he knew it, she was standing in front of him like a sight out of a dream.

“Do me a favour and play Love Me?” She says, a smile on her face, the only smile he’ll get from her for a while. That damn smile.

“In your dreams, Princess.” He responds, knowing full well they were already planning on playing it early on in the set. The thought that maybe he’d get to see her enthusiastic reaction is the only reason he can justify his response.

He stands behind the door at the back of the stage, reveling in the cheers from fifty thousand fans standing in the field before him. The adrenaline is enough to forget everything around him, he’s no longer a love struck boy from Manchester, he’s a performer ready to put on one hell of a show for the fans who have traveled far and wide to see them.

The opening notes of The 1975 blares over the sound system, somehow still quieter than the screaming fans. He looks out, reveling in the moment of fifty thousand fans screaming along the lyrics he wrote. He also notices how she reacts to making eye contact with other members of the band. Throwing a heart up to Polly, blowing a kiss to George, and meeting his stare with a deadpan expression and quickly looking away.

The first three songs are over in a flash, and before he knows it it’s time to speak.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to The 1975 At Their Very Best! Now normally, we don’t take requests this early on. Especially not from blonde bimbos who think crystals do shit. However this songs a banger and you all deserve it!”

He’s not sure why he says it, it just slips out. This whole hating thing is way too easy to fall into. It doesn’t make seeing the look on her face any easier. The way her smile drops at what she hears is heartbreaking, turning a moment of joy into something she’ll have nightmares about. He knows the bimbo label has tormented her on the internet over the years, but he guesses hearing it on stage come from someone she’s been a fan of for years affects her differently than when it’s coming from an anonymous journalist.

He manages to put this at the back of his mind as the show goes on. And he can’t deny, despite some hiccups the show goes amazingly. Bringing his dad out for All I Need To Hear cemented this show as one for the history books, getting deservedly emotional over how far they’ve come since they were 12 playing in his mum's garage. He occasionally looks to the side of the stage, hoping to catch her eye but it never happens, either catching her eye at the wrong moment or she’s refusing to look at him for the rest of the show.

Once the show’s over, they all head backstage for a post show party. He’s dragged around left, right, and center, forced to take part in some of the most mind numbing and repetitive conversations known to man. That is, until he’s saved by George and Charli. He’d much rather be a third wheel than have corporate conversations with sleazy businessmen trying to profit off his success.

He’s too distracted to take part in the conversation though, his eyes constantly finding the cheery, blonde figure in the room. Her smile emits a light source, drawing everyone towards her including Matty. His feelings are only heightened when Charli calls her over.

“Holy shit, come over here you sexy, blonde bitch!” Charli yells, grabbing her by the forearm and dragging her over to the group and pulling her into a hug. He forgot that they knew each other, making his situation ten times more awkward.

“Damn, I forgot you two know each other. Don’t know how, Charli constantly reminds me that she’d leave me for you in a heartbeat.” George chuckles, handing her a drink that he ,not so sneakily, puts extra alcohol in.

“I have that effect, the girlies love me.” She says, looking at Charli and winking at her. A soft groan escapes his lips that he manages to cover with a cough.

“Yeah, whatever you say.” He responds, taking a sip of his drink to calm him down. An awkward silence falls over the group, no one really sure what to say in response. Luckily, someone starts blaring Boom Clap over the speakers, causing an annoyed groan to come from Charli before she starts loudly exclaiming how the song was a quote unquote “mistake”.

He jumps at the opportunity when Hann asks if he’s coming out with the rest of them to a local bar. However, when they get there he notices one person is missing from the group.

“Hey, um where’s your little friend gone?” He says to the four remaining members of Lost Atlantis.

“She’s gone back to the hotel.” Maddi responds, clearly annoyed. “She claims she’s tired, but I think it has something to do with the fact an egotistical asshole called her a blonde bimbo on stage.” A look of regret floods his eyes, he knew it would affect her but he didn’t think it would be that bad.

“Look, I'm sorry but,” he starts talking but is quickly cut off.

“We don’t care about how sorry you are, Matty. We just wanna know why you did it? You’ve been an ass to her ever since the Wembley show. She’s been nothing but nice to you, and you’ve responded by being a childish dick head.” Ava snaps, giving him a glare that resembles daggers.

“You’re in a band as well, I’m sure you understand why we’re being so protective. But whenever she’s around you, she isn’t herself and we’re not losing her over some petty grudge you hold for god knows what reason.” Moon follows up, not giving Matty enough time to respond.

“Disrespectfully, but we’ve lost all respect for you after the bimbo incident, so fuck off and leave us alone for the rest of the night.” Maddie continues, walking off before he could say anything. He walks over to a booth in the corner of the bar, cradling his drink and thinking how he’s going to grovel at her feet the next time he sees her. This self pity spiral is quickly ruined when Sienna Turner walks over and sits down next to him.

“I know why you’re acting like this.” She says, giving him a sympathetic look. “I get it, I don’t agree with the way you’re doing it, but I get it.” The confusion is obvious on his face, unsure of what the hell she is on about. “You like her, trust me I totally understand. She’s a total smoke show, and I’m not just saying that because she’s my best mate. And I get that you probably have commitment issues, you’re not the first rock star I’ve met, but being a little bitch and calling her a bimbo on stage is not the way to cope with it. You’re just getting a one way ticket into us five shunning you, and that wouldn’t be fun for you because as long as Maddie and Ross are sleeping about you’re stuck with us.” She finishes, leaving the two of them in a comfortable silence.

“I’ve been hurt before.” He starts, unsure of why he’s spilling his secrets to who is essentially a stranger but he continues anyway. “And when I first saw that video of her, drunk and singing along to Robbers, I was smitten. But I never expected to meet her in real life, I mean you girls are stars and we’re just four men in our thirties. So when I did, I panicked. I mean, she’s somehow even more beautiful in real life than she is in that video.” He chuckles, taking a sip of his drink to collect his thoughts. “You know flight or fight? My response was to be a dick, and now I’ve pushed her away and she thinks I’m an asshole which I guess I am after what I said today. It’s probably for the best, your songs are amazing but those breakup songs are brutal. I think I’d have to go into hiding if one was written about me.” He laughs, making eye contact with Sienna for the first time since the conversation started.

“I’m going to give you some advice, and don’t take this as me liking you, I’m doing it for the beautiful woman who we need to be as mentally healthy as possible because she pays my rent. She’s been hurt by men before, and I’ve just sat back and let it happen but I’m not going to do that again. Despite everything that’s gone down in the last couple of months, I want to believe that you are a good person. However you need to prove that and apologise. I know it’s going to be awkward and uncomfortable, but you will do whatever it takes to make her forgive you. I don’t care if you have to get on your knees and beg, next time you see her you will be a groveling little bitch.” She says, with the most serious expression on her face. He knows she isn’t joking, those girls are protective over each other and will fight heaven and earth to make sure each other is safe.

“To being a groveling little bitch.” He says, holding up his drink for a cheers. Sienna clinks her glass with his, giving him a small yet comforting smile.

As harsh as it was, he needed that reality check. And not from someone who was close to him, but from a stranger who doesn’t care about his feelings. Sienna was right, he can’t keep hurting the people around him just because he has been hurt before.

He goes back to his apartment, ready to start planning the best apology ever given. But he doesn’t know where to start, considering he writes songs for a living he can’t seem to find the right words to explain how he’s feeling without exposing all of his feelings. He decides to give up, closing his laptop and falling into his bed. Letting sleep take over him as images of her flashes in his mind.

#adam hann #matty healy #george daniel #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #ross macdonald

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jakessbtch · 1 year

Text

☆ together | c.g

masterlist | requests

TW ✿ ° : bullying [for reader], angst, swearing, fighting

pairing ✿ ° : Carl Grimes x reader [s/h]

request by ✿ ° : @liu1307

summary of fic ✿ ° : After reader hears some Alexandrians picking on her for being too close to carl, she shuts herself off. Carl is desperate to show ron how much of a prick he is.

word count ✿ ° : 2.5k

a/n ✿ ° : felt as if this one was really bad :[

scared of abandonment, otherwise known as autophobia. its a very uncommon fear during the death of apocalypse, you could consider it rare. everyone accepted being left behind by loved ones, everyone wanted to survive. as for y/n, she would rather die with people around then alone in a dark forest. being alone terrified her to her core, especially after she had to survive alone for 6 months, after her mother passed. once rick and his small group came along and found her, she felt like a small part of her had been slowly revived.

she was so relieved when they found her in that home, that she didn’t let go of daryl until late that night when he showed her the place she’d be staying. a few days later than that, she had met the carl grimes, the boy she had fallen for faster than a brick from a height. he had attached himself to her mentally and she reciprocated those attachments. he protected her with everything he had, and she didn’t want to leave his side. those feelings grew like wildfire, and very soon the two started dating.

y/n felt that she got attached to him to much, and soon every time he left her alone, thoughts were rebelling against her. they told her he was going to die alone and that he was leaving her by herself forever. she started getting terrible break downs and started horribly crying when he wasn’t in the room with her. soon he caught onto these actions, and soon, so did the rest of alexandria. they were pretty supportive of her feelings and hidden trauma, allowing things like her staying with carl at nights and them doing jobs together, but others didn't really like the way she was acting to him. taunting her, calling her weak. they didn’t understand as much.

it was a warm sunday morning, and everyone was out doing their jobs to help the economy in alexandria. as for you and carl, you were watching judith for rick and michonne. rick had asked michonne to go out on a supply run with him so you both got put with the job of watching judith for the two. they needed the break so you agreed quicker than carl could even think about it, you loved judith with the whole of your heart, so you found babysitting really fun if it was with her. and secretly carl made it so much better for you too. it was a huge bonding session for the three of you.

judith was rather rowdy today. she could not sit still nor find quiet in her small voice. for such a young age she had an awful lot to whine about. she felt as if she had the need to cry at everything but want nothing at the same time. carl was starting to get rather annoyed in helping judith out with her problems, and y/n was trying desperately to help her relax a little before she went inside for a nap. judith kept throwing toys around and carl was sick of getting up to get them. it wasn’t really working out for the two, since she declined a bottle and it was too early for a nap too.

y/n gasped quietly as another messy stuffed animal was thrown at her head, the stuffed cat falling into her lap with ease. she sighed as she moved the cat out of her lap, and she gave judith a teething toy they had found on a run. all that happened we her wailing more and her throwing the toy down the porch steps. judith watched it fall further from the three, but that didn’t stop her horrified cries. carl sighed mainly to himself, before turning to y/n with a sincere expression plastered on his face. y/n looked at him confusion laced in her eyes, why was he looking at her like that.

“n/n look you don’t have to do this, but you could you try and get that toy, you don’t have to. please, try for me” y/n looked around to see in any passerby's instructed him to say that, but there wasn’t that many people and it wasn’t that far from carl. carl could still see her if she was standing, so was it really separating the two if you thought about it. y/n nodded at what he said to her, he was right, it was best to try, because if something did happen to him she needed to work out how to help herself. “yeah alright, i can try for you carl, i’ll do it it” she whispered with a nervous grin.

y/n rose to her feet and shakily made her way to the porch’s entrance, she took a moment to glance back at carl with hidden fear in her eyes. he had one hand on judith’s legs and the other showing y/n a supportive thumbs up. Y/n smiled weakly at him before looking down the white wooden steps, the toy wasn’t to far from the last step, this could be easy if she set her mind to it. she walked towards the toy reaching it in short moments. the butterfly teething doll seemed icky as dirt managed to etch its way on the sides. she’d have to thoroughly wash it before giving it back to judith.

y/n was just about the turn and go back to carl and judith, when a masculine voice called her name across the opening. she felt stuck in her spot as she meekly turned to the culprit whom called her, it was ron anderson. she had no issues with ron, but she knew carl had a few disputes with him. she had seen their interactions so far and how they acted towards each other, but ron never brought her up during their rough arguments. he jogged his way over to her, enid hot on his heels. he stopped in front of y/n pulling off his black beanie and meekly handing it to enid with a lovestruck smile on his face.

“hey don’t take this personally y/n, but like, why are you up carl’s sorry ass so much?” ron spat at her with such a tone of venom. y/n furrowed her eye brows rather angrily, did he seriously have the nerve to ask that? up carl’s ass? no she wasn’t. “its just that you can’t give him any space, even for the life of you, if that were me personally, i would have abandoned you out the walls or something” what was he talking. he would have abandoned her? that immediately rushed to her clouded brain saying ‘carl is going to abandon you soon, you're going to be alone again’. it terrified her.

“oh.. alright” she mumbled before she took the courage to turned to run back to carl. carl wouldn’t leave her, right? yeah, she was just overthinking. however, a small apart of her was saying ron was right. y/n handed the pink butterfly toy to carl when she reached his left side, and then ignored him to sit in the soft white porch chairs. carl furrowed his brows together at her ignorance then put his brown hat on the floor besides him where she once sat. little did carl know this was the beginning of y/n blocking him out and trying to get over her anxiety of being without him.

carl was fed up with the way y/n was acting towards him, he had attempted to get her to follow him all day, but she was content in his room. away from him. he refused to believe she was alright cause every time he got back another painting she had made and hung up in his room, was missing from the wall, and she had even more puffier eyes then the last time. this was his 5th time coming back from a garden job he was asked to do, and he expected to see her at the door begging for a hug and littering his arms with soft kisses. yet when he opened the front door, she wasn’t there. she wasn’t even seen.

he sighed angrily as he leaned against the closed door, his eyes dropping to the hardwood floor. what had happened to her when he asked her to get the toy? did she finally realize that she could be alone, did she didn’t need him anymore? her felt nerves creep on him when he pondered the question. he decided it was best to ask her himself, so he made his way up to his occupied room. he thought about what to say to her and how to say it, did he need to be serious with her or not? did he need to be relaxed or straight forwards? there were too many things he had to think about. he decided to just go for it. she was easy going.

when he got to the single bedroom door, he went to reach for the cool silver handle, yet he heard something in distress on the other side of the door. carl wanted to be sly about it all, and put his right ear closer to the door. what he did manage to hear were muffled sniffles and once in a while, a sudden heartbreaking sob. carl felt his chest slowly crinkle at the noises, judith was asleep in her room so it could only be y/n. was she sore or injured, did something get to her while he was gone, the thought of losing her made his skin crawl.

he opened the door slowly, not to startle her and rebel herself on him. the dark room making him search harder as the light affected his vision temporarily. another painting was missing from the bare wall, but now the glass from the frame was sprawled on the hard floor. he then looked to the messy and untidy bed, where he caught y/n’s figure hidden underneath the sheets. she was shaking madly with racked sobs and cries, letting out a few sniffles and noises. carl felt his whole body stiffen at her body language, how did he let this happen? when she said she wasn’t going with him, he should have stayed with her. he should have helped her from all of this.

“n/n, i'm here now, alright. i'm not going anywhere” he said softly to her, closing the door and walking towards her body. the rooms darkness felt saddening now, knowing y/n’s feelings corrupted the lack of light. her body suddenly shot up at his voice, scrabbling to wipe her puffy e/c eyes. the tears were wiped away easily, but more were hard to maintain. she started looking around the room rapidly, trying to focus on anything but his own eyes. yet when carl sat next to her and opened his arms to her, she didn't hesitate to place herself in them. she needed him right now.

her breathing slowed as she smelt his musky cologne and felt the fabric of his dirty shirt connect with her own. the comfort of carl soothed her more then what she expected. carl traced lose and messy patterns into her upper back, y/n just gripping onto his clothes harder. she knew what the next few questions were, so she started to think of what to say during the stretching silence. “I can’t live without you carl, honest” carl didn’t seem phased by her words, he knew that she was codependent, yet he believed he was too. he closed his eyes dipping his head into the smooth of her neck. he needed her too, they needed each other, and was never going to leave her again.

“i know n/n, i don’t plan on leaving you ever again. please tell me, what's going on?” he asked desperately, pulling himself away from the crook of her neck. she peered up at him with love in her gaze, that was soon replaced with pitiful sorrow. she didn’t want to tell him what did happen, but she didn’t want to lie to him. carl looked at her with desperation, it only edging her to talk more to him. y/n looked at her shaking hands before sighing to herself. its either now or never. carl needed to know what was going on.

“ron told me that yo-” carl suddenly threw his hands up and an angered expression took over his features. “of fucking course it was ron, that little fucking shit! i'm going to knock his lights out, i swear to fucking god” carl was quick to stand up from the bed. y/n followed him like a puppy, begging him not to make things worse between the two. she could deal with the shit talking, but not with aggressive actions and fighting. “carl stop it, please” she begged when they walked off the porch out to were ron was sitting alone. he wasn’t too far from the porch, so carl found him rather quick.

“hey! you little fucking asshat!” carl approached ron angrily who was sitting on the cool grass, and kicked him straight in the head. ron gripped his face while wailing for help, y/n just watched with widened and shocked e/c eyes. “carl leave, he’s not worth our time” she said again calmer, trying to soothe the enraged carl. “No! he told you fucking stupid lies, and now he gets the consequences for his dumb ass actions” and carl kicked ron again, blood splattered on his hands. y/n grabbed carl’s plaid shirt, begging him to stop the fighting again. carl looked back at her and sighed at her desperation, she was right. he shouldn't be doing fighting this asshole, karma would have gotten him.

“look asshole, touch her or talk to her again, i will cook your nuts alive. hear me” carl spat with such venom. carl threw a final strong punch before grabbing y/n’s hand carefully and storming his way back to the white home. she trailed along behind him, cautiously looking back at ron every few steps. he glared at the two, holding his bruising face and bleeding nose. she snickered at the silly sight, but simply sighed when she entered the dark cool home. the door closed behind the two. carl expected her to start yelling at him for his foolish actions but what she did had him amazed.

“thank you, thank you, thank you! you’re so cool carl!” y/n squealed jumping around like a little school girl, before tackling carl into a tight hug. the two crashed on the floor with a soft bang. he began laughing loudly as she rubbed her face into his chest, “you are so fucking cool! and i'm so so sorry!” she gasped sitting up and pressing soft kisses onto his reddening face and neck. carl groaned sheepishly as he pushed her face away from his so he could look her in the eye. “its alright, i love you so much, i’d do anything for you” he said staring at her e/c eyes. y/n smiled wildly before leaning down towards him.

that moment was when the two shared their first kiss. a moment to remember forever.

✿ ° Fin

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owlwithanapple · 3 months

Text

Fate Chapter 01. — Lost Girl

Roronoa Zoro X OC X Trafalgar Law

Zoro appears first, Law appears later

I tried to write a heroine from a different world who meets the character of One Piece. The content will have two different world concepts, which are not completely based on the plot of the anime.

It’s a boring world, boring day, doing the same thing every time when open your eyes. The things you must do after getting up are brushing teeth, taking a shower, changing into school uniforms, and taking the subway to school after leaving home.

You have to squeeze into the subway every morning and live this life all day. Arrive at school and enter the classroom. The class is full of noise. The teacher's job is to give lectures as usual, and the students' life is to study or get sleepy.

When the school bell rang, packed your schoolbag and went home. There are many club activities but you just can’t get interested. There are more people on the subway after school, but don’t want to squeeze into the subway with them, so you go home late and go to convenience store on the street.

As usual ran to the convenience store near the school to buy some snacks. Chose my favorite snacks and paid. Find a bench in the park, sit down, unpack the snacks and start eating.

You don’t hate your current life, and also like what you do every day. You just a student, have nothing else to do except for parents to support you in studying. Your parents abroad will feel at ease knowing that your academic performance remains stable.

Part-time jobs are only available on Saturdays and Sundays. Your parents will give you living expenses every month, but sometimes prefer to spend your own money. But students still have to take care of their studies. If focus on work, grades will rise and fall any time.

After parents see the results, it will be troublesome to ask for explanations. Your parents are talented people, and both of them hold senior positions in an overseas company. For the sake of parents’ face and image, you must remain excellent.

The park is as usual with a group of children playing together, an old man walking his dog, some students playing football, and you eating snacks on the bench. Even don’t look at these things you experience every day, you will know them by heart.

Oops, after talking so much, forgot to introduce yourself. Your name is Yuki. 17 years old. Is a student. Don't think of hobbies at the moment, just a passerby, living a cyclical life every day.

You found the snacks had been eaten and empty. Before knew it, the time had come and almost time to go home. On the way to the subway station, the scenery of the city is quite beautiful.

Your life goes around in cycles every day, but the scenery can change every day. Nature is so magical and mysterious all at the same time.

After the traffic light turns green, you start walking on the road. What lights the traffic lights display will change accordingly for people and traffic. When the red light is on, it means stop, when the green light is on, it can move.

Even though there are traffic lights for everyone's safety, accidents will always happen suddenly. An out-of-control car is coming from the left, and in front of you is a little girl who fell on the road.

Everyone around you has fled, except you. The little girl who fell on the road and the out-of-control car are rushing towards you two. Today is the first time in your life that you have experienced such a terrifying situation.

Subconsciously, you lifted the little girl up and pushed her aside, while the out-of-control car rushed towards you. Your legs are trembling and can't move at all.

You closed your eyes unconsciously fell into darkness, but didn't feel any pain when you were hit. You only heard the sound of water, the chirping of birds and felt something shaking.

You open your eyes sit up see that you are on a small boat surrounded by the sea and a group of animals flying in the sky. The scene in front of you makes you tremble with fear. It is a sea and a bright sun.

You was clearly on the road just now, but in an instant was floating on the sea. You look around there is nothing nearby, just you, a boat, the sea and birds.

You pinched your cheeks hard asked yourself, "What's going on! Why suddenly at sea!" The pain felt on your cheek definitely real, you wanted to stand up to see what was going on but the boat started to rock.

It's better not to move. There had just been a car accident on the road, and now you was in trouble at sea. But you are still wearing school uniform, so you were transported here?

But where is this? You are in a boat and then drifting across the ocean, even don't know where you are or where you drifting to. The sun on the sea is so bright and hot, making you so thirsty.

Sitting on the boat doing nothing just drifting on the sea, calling for help but there was no one around. Guess this is the world after death. You are the only one wandering on this sea alone.

You sighed "Am I going to die here? Maybe it would be better to die. It's not uncommon to live such a boring life every day!" You lie on the boat and look at the blank sky in a daze.

Suddenly a big wave came up the boat shook violently. You quickly hold on to the boat and a huge black shadow envelop you. It is a big ship with a sun face sailing on the sea.

The big ship collided with your small boat and crashed, you falling into the sea. You screamed for help desperately hoping the people on the big ship would notice, but your voice seemed unable to reach them.

You are tired, hungry, no strength and finally sink into the sea. This is the scene under the sea, a ray of light and clear water. You have died once, now you have to die one more time. Even death is a cycle.

You close your eyes stop thinking prepare to die peacefully. When you have given up all ideas, suddenly someone jumped into the sea grabbed your arm swam to the surface.

"Hey! Come and help get her up!" a rough voice shouted.

His companion picked you up and took you to the ship "Call Chopper!" another man said.

"Don't crowd here, get out of the way!" A cute voice used his little hands to unbutton you clothes leaned against your chest to hear your heartbeat. He put his hands on your chest and pressed it quickly.

"Don't die! Give me a reaction when you hear my voice!" He shouted to you while giving first aid in a panic. After a golden period of rescue, you finally opened your eyes slightly and started to react a little.

You just accidentally fell into the sea and the sea water choked your throat so uncomfortable you quickly coughed it out. When open your eyes again see a few people surrounding you "Are you okay, miss?" A man with curly eyebrows and a suit says to you with a smile.

There was a green-haired man with three swords hanging from his waist who was wet and drying himself with a towel. He was the one who jumped into the sea to save you. You slowly sat up and stared at the tanuki that saved you?

"Tanuki," you accidentally said.

He jumped around angrily and yelled "I'm not Tanuki! I'm a reindeer!".

After calming down, he pointed himself and said, "My name is Chopper, you?".

After listening to what he said, you inadvertently found that your school uniform was soaked by water, which penetrated your underwear and still half-dressed. You wrapped your arms around yourself to cover it.

You had no idea what was going on yet , woke up and was being looked at by others. Suddenly someone wrapped a towel around. It was the man in a suit. He had a nosebleed. "My name is Sanji. I'm sorry. Chopper was in first aid just now, so..." he comforted you.

You were already trembling in panic, not knowing what was wrong. You died in a car accident and almost drowned in the sea, but after being rescued, you were frightened and overwhelmed by the people in front of you.

But they all kept a distance and didn't force you to do anything. You clenched the towel and covered your face, not knowing what to do and hesitating about how to speak.

"What should we do? She didn't say anything." A woman with long orange hair asked Sanji and Chopper.

The green-haired man came over and said, "Let her calm down first."

A dark-haired woman approached you and gently poked on the back smiled and said, "I hope you're okay."

Seeing the strange and cute appearance of the reindeer named Chopper, you unknowingly let go of your guard. After all, they saved your life but you just kept your mouth shut before thanking them.

They turned their backs to seemed to be discussing something. Out of curiosity, you prepared to eavesdrop on what they had to say but it seemed like were done talking. You hesitated for a moment and just said your name should be fine.

"Yuki."

After everyone heard you speak, immediately turned their heads watched intently. In the awkward situation, you quickly covered your face with a towel. Being in a strange place and with strange people makes you feel uncomfortable and lonely.

The orange-haired woman put her hand on her chest and said, "Hello, Yuki. My name is Nami. The one who saved you just now was Zoro." She pointed at the green-haired man.

"Yuki-chwan! I'm so glad you're okay!" Sanji said with concern through a nosebleed.

"Umm, Sanji, your nosebleed..." You pointed at his face.

Zoro sighed helplessly pulled Sanji away from you "This guy is like this when he sees girls, don't worry about it.".

Sanji was unhappy with Zoro's tone and started to fight.

You survived, who is the person who saved me? A talking reindeer? A cosplayer with three swords hanging from his waist? A pervert in a suit? What kind of world have you arrived in and why are there so many weird things?

"Yohohoho! It's so lively." You turned around and saw a talking skull with an afro hair, you were shocked and dumbfounded.

"Hello, miss." The skull greeted you, but you were already stunned by him.

You are careless, this one is weirder than those people. Nami kicked the skull away and lightly slapped your face, but already fainted and unconscious. Chopper quickly arranged you go to the infirmary for examination.

"Is Yuki-chwan going to be okay..." Sanji said worriedly.

Zoro said seriously, "She's wearing weird clothes."

Sanji kicked Zoro "Marimo! You are not allowed to look at Yuki-chwan with that despicable look!".

"You are the one who is mean!". Zoro fights with Sanji.

Don't know how much time passed before you woke up from a coma. You lay on the soft bed looked at the lights on the ceiling. You thought it was an illusion but now it feels so real. There are many books in the room, the medicines are neatly placed in the cabinets, and a Tanuki wearing a pink hat?

"Tanuki!" you shouted sitting up and pointing at him.

He yelled angrily, "I'm not Tanuki! I'm a reindeer! Chopper!"

"It's not a dream..." You slapped your face so hard that it really hurt.

Chopper holds your hand to stop from hitting yourself. The pain means you are not dreaming. You pinched your face hard and slapped it several times. Chopper was so scared he ran out and shouted for help.

"Someone come here! Yuki is hurting herself!" Chopper yelled as he ran around in a hurry.

After hearing this, Nami and Sanji ran directly into the medical room saw you pinching face. Nami grabbed your hand to prevent from continuing, and Sanji quickly wrapped ice in a cloth and applied it to your face.

"What are you doing! Why are you hurting yourself?" Nami cursed at you angrily.

"Yuki-chwan, I won't allow you to do this to yourself!" Sanji told you worriedly.

"It's really not a dream..." After confirming that was not dreaming and you had really arrived in another world, tears flowed unconsciously from your eyes.

"Yuki-chwan! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have scolded you! What should I do?" Sanji nervously reassured you.

"What happened, Yuki?" Nami let you cry on her shoulder.

Zoro saw Chopper shouting around in a panic. He walked to the door of the medical room and saw you crying, Nami comforting you, and Sanji frantically thinking of ways to tease you.

"What happened to Yuki?" Chopper hid behind Zoro and watched secretly.

"How is she?" Zoro looked at Chopper and asked.

"She fine, it's just weird when she wake up." Chopper said worriedly.

"Hmm..." Zoro just remained silent and stood outside the door watching.

"Zoroooooooo! Chopperrrrrrrr!" came a loud voice.

You heard a voice coming from outside the door and saw Zoro standing in the doorway with Chopper hiding behind. There was a man in a straw hat, followed by a man with a long nose who excitedly ran up to Zoro while grabbing a fish.

"You are here! Zoro! Look at the fish I caught!" The man in the straw hat excitedly showed off the fish to Zoro.

"I know! Keep the fish away!" Zoro dodged the fish in Luffy hand.

"What are you looking at?" The man wearing a straw hat came into the infirmary.

"Hello..." You waved to him.

"Look! I caught the fish! Who are you?" After showing off the fish to you, he suddenly asked who you are.

"Stay back, Luffy!" Nami hit him on the head.

"It hurts..." The man in the straw hat sat on the ground and whispered.

"My name is Yuki..." You said your name.

After hearing your name, he excitedly stood in front of you said loudly, "My name is Luffy! Monkey D Luffy!"

"Why is Yuki on our ship?" the long-nosed man asked with a confused look on his face.

"Due to some minor accidents, Yuki-chwan will be on the boat temporarily." Sanji picked up the fish Luffy just caught.

"Hmmm...I see." Luffy stared at you with curious eyes.

When you were frowning, suddenly Luffy pulled his cheek to make a face. His cheeks were flexible and as soft as rubber. You couldn't help but laugh when saw his face making a weird face at you.

Nami saw your smile hugged you tightly and gently stroked you head to comfort you. Although you was transported to a very strange world, the people here were so warm and you felt a little warm.

"Yuki-chwannnn, smile more!" Sanji danced happily.

"Fnally laughed." Nami laughed.

"Don't always have a sad face!" Luffy smiled as brightly as the sun.

"Thank you, I feel much better." You responded to them with a smile.

"Yuki, do you want talk to us?" Nami asked you with concern.

Nami called everyone to the table to discuss current situation. You are a strange girl meets a ship with some strange cosplayers. Sanji made tea for everyone and put it on the table. You can smell the delicious tea.

There are currently 8 people: Luffy with retractable body, Zoro as a three-sword cosplayer, Nami with long orange hair and tattoos, Sanji with a nosebleed and a suit, Chopper as a reindeer, Brook as a skeleton, Usopp as a long-nosed and black-haired Robin.

Now a tall blue-haired man named Franky came forward, wearing only a underwear and a pair of robotic hands. What a weird group, maybe they are members of a band, you really feel confused about the current situation after reading it.

You clear your throat and briefly introduce everyone, "Ahem. My name is Yuki. I'm from Japan. I'm currently a high school student."

"Japan? What island are you from?" Luffy asked excitedly, standing on the table.

"What's the occupation of a high school student?" Ussop asked curiously.

"Japan is a country, and high school students are students." You explain to them seriously.

"Hmm. A country I've never heard of." Franky looked confused.

"Yohoho. That's why high school students wear short skirts like this. Can you let me see your pantsu?" Brook said with a smile at you.

"Sinful short skirt..." You looking at Sanji's whispered with nosebleed.

"What about you, are you all the cosplayers of some group?" Seeing their strange looks, couldn't help but ask.

"What is a Cosplayer?" Chopper asked doubtfully.

"Cosplayer is like everyone wear some character costumes." You simply explained to Chopper.

"We are not role-playing! We are a pirate group! I am the man who wants to become the Pirate King!" Luffy stood on the table and raised his hands in the air.

"Ha!? Pirates!? What era are we in now!" You stood up grabbed Luffy's collar and kept asking.

"The ○○ era..." Nami said.

"It's different from my time..." You let go of Luffy's collar calm down and muttered to yourself.

"Yuki, I'm curious, what era are you from?" Robin raised her hand and asked.

"I'm from the ○○○○ era..." Robin looked shocked after you answered.

"There is a possibility that Yuki is a person from a different world and era. I have read it in books, I always thought it was a dreamlike existence." Robin told everyone about your possibility.

"Hey! That means Yuki comes from a different world than us!" Sanji was shocked by Robin's conclusion.

"Wait! Could it be sent by the enemy?" Ussop suddenly mentioned.

"If it's true, just cut her off." Zoro stood up held his scabbard in hand.

Ussop mentioned this speculation, Zoro has become wary of you. It makes sense for them to speculate and be wary of you. Most people can ignore a girl wandering at sea, but they saved you.

Sanji stood up raised his feet to stop Zoro from drawing his sword. The aura of the two of them was too strong. You can feel the oppression and intense pressure from both of them while sitting nearby. It's such a terrifying situation.

"Stop it now!" Nami threw tea at Zoro and Sanji.

"I understand your caution. But if she is really innocent, wouldn't it be tantamount to bullying the weak?" Robin said calmly.

"Hahaha! Robin is right!" Franky said with a laugh.

"Yohohoho, if Yuki really wanted to harm us, she could have attacked Chopper in the medical room." Brook gave a simple metaphor.

"Yeah, it was just me and her at that time. It was a good opportunity to make a move." Chopper said seriously.

"Robin-chwan is right! Yuki-chwan is innocent! Marimo!" Sanji complained about Zoro.

"Let's have a fight! Curly cook!" Zoro and Sanji got into a fight.

It’s incredible they all can live together and get along even though all with different looks and personalities. It’s not like you’re dealing with the same people and the same things every day.

You clenched both hands and fell into deep thought. Maybe as Robin said, you and them are in different worlds and just happened to be transferred here or this is the world after death.

"Yuki! Look at me!" Luffy suddenly called.

"Erm?" You raised head.

When you heard Luffy calling, you looked up and saw him sitting on the table, making faces and laughing at you. His expression was so funny that you couldn't help but hold your belly and laugh.

"Oh, laughed again." Robin said with a chuckle.

"Yuki-chwan! Smile more! Your smile is a salvation!" Sanji looked at you with loving eyes.

"Luffy, how on earth did your face stretch and contract like this?" You asked him, wiping away the tears of laughter.

"Hehehe, I became like this after eating the Gomu Gomu no Mi." Luffy proudly showed off to you.

"Gomu Gomu no Mi?" You pulled Luffy's face hard to confirm this fact.

"Devil fruit. After eating it, you can gain certain superpowers. Doesn't it exist in your world?" Ussop asked you after explaining.

"I was only born in an ordinary world that is not as sci-fi as your world." You said about the worldview you lived in before.

"What do you usually do in your world?" Nami asked curiously, sitting next to me.

"It's all about studying and working. I don't have any other hobbies or interests." You told her vaguely.

"So boring..." Luffy said to me with a bored look on his face.

"I feel bored too." You lowered your head whispered.

It is indeed undeniable that your life is boring. Maybe you don’t make friends or participate in outdoor activities. Maybe you are introverted or just weak and incompetent.

You lowered your head clasped the corners of your skirt with your hands remaining silent. You feel so reluctant to let Luffy tell you the truth, but what he said is the truth. You have no reason to deny it.

At this time, there is a sudden gurgling sound in your stomach, which means are hungry. You shyly held your stomach and looked up find Sanji and Luffy smiling, Nami standing behind you putting her hands on your shoulders.

"Sanji, our guest is hungry." Nami said with a smile.

Sanji lit a cigarette, took a puff and exhaled, "No problem!"

Sanji ran away immediately when he heard your hungry voice and Nami's tone. For some reason, everyone was very happy to see Sanji leave, especially Luffy who jumped up and down with Chopper excitedly.

"Hehehe, Sanji is the chef of this ship." Robin said with a smile.

"So that's it." You said with a chuckle.

"That's right! Sanji's cooking skills are top-notch! He's not inferior to the chefs outside!" Ussop tells you excitedly.

"Ussop... I'm curious, do you often lie?" Seeing Ussop's nose reminded of some fairy tale plots.

Ussop quickly stepped back when he heard this, "Why did you say that!"

You smiled told him, "I read a fairy tale book that said that a puppet was born to lie and because of the fairy's spell, his nose would grow when he lied."

Ussop shouted in surprise and thought seriously, "NANIIIIIII, there is such a story! Could it be that I have a long nose because of a fairy casting a spell..."

"It's possible." Chopper came over to gossip.

"Yohohoho, what a funny story." Brook said with a smile.

"It's really strange that skeletons and reindeer can talk. Did you two also eat devil fruits?" You asked curiously.

"Yohohoho, that's right! Are there no skeletons in your world?" Brook asked curiously after laughing.

"Can the reindeer talk?" Chopper asked curiously.

"Skeletons usually only seen on Halloween, but people pretend to be and scare people for candy. I read about reindeer in books. Most of the records are four-legged animals that don't talk." You explain.

"Why do scare people and ask for candy?" Brook tilted his head and asked.

"It's a holiday custom. People dress up as various ghosts and knock on the door from house to house, asking for candy. If they don't give it, they will cause trouble." You said.

"Yohohoho! It's so fun! I want to participate if I have the chance! I have no body but a skeleton body!" Brook raised his hands excitedly to express his happiness.

"What about the cyborg?" Franky asked curiously.

"I've never seen with my own eyes, but I've seen it in science fiction movies." You smiled.

"What is a science fiction movie?" Franky asked, putting his hand on his chin in confusion.

"It's similar to what's shown in TV series." You might make a gesture like drawing a rectangle with your hands.

"What a strange world structure." Franky said with a smile.

Chopper, Brook and Franky excitedly ask you for stories about your world. We all live in different worlds, encounter different things, experience different lives, and live with all kinds of people.

Zoro thought you were suspicious, he stood aside and silently observed your every move. Luffy and Ussop ran to the kitchen to make trouble, while Robin and Nami were listening to what you said.

For the first time, you feel so amazing that you meet a stranger in a strange place. You think each other is weird. After all, the world you grew up in is different, but you feel so at ease with their company.

"Everyone! Food!" Luffy jumped up holding the food in both hands.

"Yahoo! I'm starving!" Ussop happily followed Luffy.

"Hey Luffy! Don't do this! You'll spill the food later!" Sanji held the food and followed Luffy.

"Okay, stop hanging around Yuki. Come over and eat." Nami put her hands on your shoulders and told Chopper, Brook and Franky.

"Bring me the wine." Zoro walked away.

"Let's eat together." Robin smiled and invited you to enjoy it together.

"My new friend Yuki-chwan is here today! I have shown my true skills!" Sanji clenched his fists and said enthusiastically.

You sit at the dining table look at the delicious food placed in front of me. The last time you just ate lunch boxes and snacks from the convenience store, the sumptuous food in front of you was so appetizing.

"Yuki-chwan, please taste it. You can give me a review." Sanji smiled, poured you water and handed you a knife and fork in a gentlemanly manner.

"Okay." You took it from him.

"I caught this fish!" Luffy confidently showed off to you.

It is a different kind of fish from your world, you cut a small piece and stare at it. After taking a deep breath, carefully put it into mouth and chew it slowly and tasting it carefully.

It's different from the fish you usually eat. Although it doesn't suit their food taste, you chew it, swallow it and take a sip of water. Luffy said it was fish but the texture seemed a bit strange when chewed but the taste was delicious.

"How does it taste Yuki-chwan?" Sanji asked with nervous hands shaking.

"Erm...the ecological species of fish are different from mine, so I can't get used to it." You told Sanji your thoughts.

"So it's delicious?" Sanji looks forward to your reply.

"It's delicious! Thank you! Sanji!" You responded to him with a happy smile.

"Yuki-chwannnnnnnn~The most important thing is that it suits your taste~" Sanji jumped up excitedly when he saw your smile spurting nosebleeds.

"Sanji...your nosebleed..." You tried to comfort Sanji but he seemed unable to control it.

"Don't worry, he's always like this." Robin put vegetables into your bowl.

"Thank you Robin." It feels like Robin is like a sister taking care of your diet.

"Yuki, how do you plan to live in the future?" Ussop asked while chewing food.

"I..." You were silent, having no idea after what to do.

"Nah! Do you want to join us for an adventure? It will be fun! Hahahaha!" Luffy said, holding a large piece of fried chicken in his hand and filling his mouth with food.

"Me?" You pointed at yourself.

"We can't let you live on the streets for the rest of your life." Nami said with a smile.

"Yohohoho! Fate has brought us together!" Brook said happily.

"I'm happy to have an extra nakama." Robin chuckled.

"Superrrrrrr~" Franky raised his hand and put the stars on his wrist together.

"Yuki~" Chopper took your hand.

"Then...thank you." You stood up bowed to express your gratitude.

"Yuki-chwan~Welcome~" Sanji was so happy and put a lot of food into your bowl.

You see that the bowl is full of food looks like Sanji is overly excited. But getting along with them is not a bad thing, everyone is very warm to welcome you as a stranger.

"Yuki-chwan, what else do you want to eat? I can get it for you~" Sanji served you considerately.

"Eat more for yourself." You cut a small piece of fish put it into Sanji's bowl.

"Yuki-chwannnnn so gentle~ This piece of fish is so delicious!" Sanji was moved to tears.

You see that Zoro is not at the table and ask Sanji "Zoro, doesn't he eat?"

Sanji frowned sighed helplessly, "Ignore that Marimo."

"Sanji and Zoro don't get along." Robin whispered in your ear.

"So." You finally understood.

Luffy's appetite for food, how big the portion is and how quickly he stuffs all the food into his mouth. You were almost full, but remembered that Zoro hadn't eaten yet, you put some food in the bowl and gave it to him later.

"Yuki-chwan, where are you taking the food?" Sanji asked curiously.

"Zoro hasn't eaten yet, I'll give him some." You stood up and left the table.

"Damn Marimo! Let a girl serve the food!" Sanji shouted angrily.

"You're so noisy Sanji!" Nami yelled at him.

You looked for Zoro with a bowl filled with food, and you saw him sitting and drinking while watching the sea. You slowly approached behind him feeling a strong sense of oppression coming from his back.

His vigilance never slackened from the beginning as he drew his sword pointed it at you. You were so frightened that you stopped quickly because his sword was pointed at you and your legs began to shake.

"What?" Zoro showed a fierce expression.

You were afraid that he would stab you with his sword, but you still swallowed your saliva and said, "...You didn't come to eat. I'll get you some food while Luffy hasn't finished eating, otherwise you'll starve."

He put the sword into scabbard and say "put it there." then continued to drink.

You put the food in his designated place and leave silently. Before leaving, you looked at his back thought for a while. Even if he made you feel scary and powerful, bu still had to say what you should say.

"Zoro...thank you for saving my life." Although he didn't look back , you still bowed to his back to express your gratitude.

"..." He just sat there silently.

"Don't just drink, remember to eat." You reminded him warmly again that the food was just there and left.

After you left, Zoro looked back at the food you put aside. He put down the wine, held the bowl, took a fork and started eating. He gulped down the food in the bowl, burped, put the bowl down and continued drinking.

You came back to the table and saw Robin waving to you "What's wrong?"

"I'll take you to your room." Robin stood up and walked to the room with you.

Robin is really beautiful. She has long black hair, is knowledgeable, and has a slim and tall figure.You couldn't help but keep staring at her, feeling very envious of her figure and you just a short girl.

"Why are you staring at me?" Robin glanced at you.

You panicked and covered your face with your hands, "I don't mean any harm, I just think you're beautiful."

"Hehehe, thank you." Robin chuckled.

You followed Robin to the room opened the door see Sanji and Chopper all well organized and waiting for you to come in. You stepped into the room and saw that although it was just a simple small room better than sleeping on the roadside.

"Thank you very much." You smiled.

Robin pointed to the clothes on the bed, "They are old clothes, if you don't mind."

"Why would I mind! I'm so grateful!" You bowed.

Robin leaned against the door. "Hehehe, is bowing also a custom in your world?"

You put your hand on the back of your head smiled, "It's actually a custom in the country where I live, to express gratitude. Everyone does this even if they pick up things for passers-by."

"I see. There are really rules." Robin chuckled.

"Yuki-chwan~ You don't need to do that here. We are more relaxed here." Sanji lit a cigarette and smiled.

Chopper jumped and raised his hands, "If you feel uncomfortable, you can come to me. I'm a doctor."

You squatted down and said, "Wow, that's awesome, Chopper."

Chopper is shy "Your compliments don't make me happy at all.~"

You looked at the shy Chopper "This is what happens when you are praised..."

Sanji held a cigarette and proudly said, "You can come to me anytime if you are in danger, hungry or need a hug."

"How considerate." You smiled shyly.

Sanji saw you blushing and nose bleeding, "You look so cute when you are shy!"

"Hehehe, let's leave first. See you later." Robin waved and left the room.

Sanji and Chopper followed Robin out of your room. You collapsed onto the soft bed and sighed. After what you have experienced now, you are sure that you are not dead yet, you are in another world.

The world of pirates...it's incredible. How on earth could you be suddenly transported to this world? Is this the so-called world without wonder or the world full of unknowns?

It’s really tiring to have to accept so many weird things all at once. You were about to die but did not die. Instead, you went to another world and almost died but was saved again. You feel exhausted, just closed your eyes and slowly fell asleep.

To Be Continued—

*If you have any ideas leave them in the comment section, and I will try to add in the story.*

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jben073 · 4 months

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Grace Chasity headcanon rambles!

Some silly Grace hcs for @nighthaterfrfr!! I tried to mostly avoid any of mine that you mentioned something similar to in yours bc we had a good deal of overlap! :D

(Just to preface, one of my biggest headcanons is that Grace is autistic so there’s a good chance that some of these may be influenced by that! I did try to pick ones that are more applicable to canon though! [But if anyone wants any of those, I have about a million :3])

When Grace was a young child in elementary school (or Sunday school), she very innocently kissed Alice Woodward and felt something™. (She entirely represses this memory for YEARS.)

^ During her eventual sexuality crisis, despite not having talked to Alice for years outside of polite conversation if they ran into one another, Grace reaches out to her for support/to ask questions because she was the only out queer person that Grace knew and trusted enough not to out her. (Alice big sister mode activated.)

^ (They’re so silly, they’ve literally never interacted outside of a throwaway line about them knowing and possibly disliking each other but to me they're friends who fell apart and eventually find each other again when they're both more grown as people.)

^ Also, ignore me indulging my other biggest hc which is that Grace is a lesbian.

Grace took piano lessons as a child and is actually quite good because she wanted to be the pianist for her church’s masses when she got older! She stopped taking lessons in high school, but she keeps up with playing in her free time to maintain the skill and occasionally help out with music at her church.

^ Richie constantly tries to convince her to learn anime openings and music from games that he plays for him (he begged her to learn Megalovania for weeks until she finally gave in).

She has never celebrated Halloween because her parents think it’s satanic so Ruth and Richie (who definitely still go trick-or-treating in high school) make a point to bring her some of their candy on the following school day.

^ She definitely doesn’t cry about this gesture later when she goes home!!

She is an absolute monster while playing board games, like she gets REALLY aggressive about them.

^ (definitely influenced by Angela's chaos on smosh games, especially the “be a little more gentle!! >:(” clip)

She can’t go to sleep (intentionally) without getting a kiss goodnight. At home, her parents kiss her on the forehead before bed and if she’s at camp, she has to get a kiss on the head from Girl Jeri if she wants to sleep well.

^ It disrupts her routine which makes it harder for her to wind down!!

^ I like to think that before the events of Abstinence Camp, she thought of Boy Jerry and Girl Jeri as older sibling figures.

She has never been to a sleepover because she’s never had good enough friends to be invited to one :(

^ The nerds + Steph very quickly remedy this!!

^ (quick ramble related to the last hc) During the first group sleepover, Steph wakes up in the middle of the night to get a drink, realizes Grace is still up, and after Grace sheepishly admits her dilemma following Steph’s prompting for an explanation, Steph very casually plants a kiss on her forehead and then goes back to sleep. Grace’s face is beet red after this and now she can’t sleep for an entirely different reason.

^ They're in love to me!!!

LIB related

(Based almost entirely on Blinky’s line about watching Grace and the nightmare about Max/Richie that implies she has the gift.)

^ Grace has been connected to the Lords in Black since long before we see her, Steph, and Pete summon them in NPMD.

^ Much like Lex was friends with Webby as a child and forgot, Grace was friends with the LIB when she was young but grew out of it.

^ (I have a whole little overanalysis/hc set of things for this hc if anyone wants to hear :3)

After she starts using the Black Book, her appearance starts to very slightly change so that she always looks just a tiny bit off.

^ Her teeth are just a touch too sharp, her ears have the slightest point to them, and her eyes almost seem to shift in colour (depending on which LIB is influencing her).

^ But hey, it must just be a trick of the light!! She's so normal!! Dw about it!!!

She will occasionally feel the sudden compulsion to bite others (Nibbly is feeling silly!!)

^ She does not act on this… most of the time :3

One more silly one to end on

She once owned a Tamagotchi and became so deeply stressed over the state of this virtual creature that she made herself sick from anxiety.

^ Karen and Mark confiscated the toy very shortly after this.

Anyway ramble's over now but my 45 page google doc of Grace hcs continues to grow every day bc I am fixated hard on this silly little show :3

edit: had to add the '^' thing because the bullets didn't indent properly for some reason!! every one that has that is attached to the previous one without it!

also idk why on mobile the sleepover hc and the Alice hc got cut short?? The sleepover one is supposed to say that now she can't sleep for an entirely different reason and the end of the second bullet says (Alice big sister mode activated).

#grace chasity #nerdy prudes must die #npmd #starkid #hatchetfield #nightmare time #stephanie lauter #lautity #stephgrace #starkid hcs

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sunshine-theseus · 4 months

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Slow | Chloe Logarzo x Reader

Words: 1.9k Summary: despite a rough relationship with your parents, your closeness to your sister brings you Chloe, the only girl for you. Warning: NOT PROOF READ I have no clue if this is any good and I’m so sorry I think it might be one of my worst ones😭, I know the WBBL started in 2015 but who fucking cares, I changed it – no COVID but Olympics still postponed for some unknown reason :D Requested by - @charligrantismygirlfriend - not happy with this one at all i'm genuinely so sorry

Sport wasn’t something I was unfamiliar with. In fact, it was my favourite thing. As a kid, my mum and dad put me through many different clubs for different sports, from tennis to AFL. We always landed back at the same lush green cricket pitch in the western suburbs of Sydney on a Saturday morning, surrounded by other girls of all ages who shared my passion.

On Sundays my younger sister would play her soccer games, so we’d spend the weekend in a hotel in the city, then go to each other’s games, pretending to do our homework as we watch.

Not long into Ellie’s soccer journey, our parents decided the move from Cowra to Sydney was necessary for her to develop. The hours long trips to and from training in the depths of Sydney every afternoon proving to be more difficult as she progressed in school.

I no longer lived with them when they made the move, but I resented Ellie for a while. I’d been playing cricket before she could walk, albeit poorly as a 6-year-old, and had moved up through the stages into the best group in the academy by the age of 14. My parents insisted nothing much would come of it, so there was no reason to make such a drastic move and leave the farm and small-town life behind.

I started playing professionally for Sydney in the Twenty20 Cup at 17, the same year I got my first call-up for the women’s national cricket team. We, or they, still didn’t live in Sydney, so I dropped out of high school my senior year, and lived with one of the older girls who was also on the national team. I made my national debut a couple months after in a test match against England. My parents didn’t come, Ellie had some important game on that was simply impossible to miss.

At 15, when they finally joined me in the city, Ellie joined her first W-league team, and had her first senior team call-up. I made sure to be there for both debuts, avoiding my parents who sat in the crowd nearby. I cried the moment she first touched the pitch in a Matilda’s jersey, and rushed down from the stands to pick her up and hug her when the match was over.

That’s when I first met her… Chloe. My age, a beautiful brunette in the midfield who celebrated with my sister after their 9-0 win against Vietnam. We introduced ourselves and exchanged numbers but nothing much came of it. I can’t deny the many nights I spent awake dreaming of the girl.

The next time I saw Chloe in person was a Sydney Derby. Naturally I’d come to support my sister, but I couldn’t help but cheer whenever the older girl got a touch on the ball. I met up with her and Ellie again after the game, shouting them both dinner. That’s when Chloe asked me out on our first date.

It was somewhat rushed. Her departure for Newcastle was pending and it limited our options, leaving us to grab some shitty take away and dance around in a field down the road from where I lived. The sun was bright, but her smile was brighter. I stumble on my own feet whenever she looked at me, her beauty beyond compare. The beginning of a sunburn kissing my cheeks only provided me so much of an excuse as to why I was so red.

“I’m going to come to every single one of your games.” She whispers in my ear as we lay on the picnic blanket, beneath the over looming gum tree, me playing with her hair as she rests a hand beneath my loose linen shirt.

“You have your own training. And you can’t drive 2+ hours back and forth once a week. Also we have away games you can’t possibly make...” Despite my desperate want for her to be there every game, I begin to list all the reasons it wasn’t logical.

“I’ll find a way. And if not all, most home games.” She gives me a satisfied smile, one that tells me she knows she’s won whatever little argument we had.

Chloe keeps her promise, and I join her in my own. We both attend each other’s home games as often as possible, and very rarely, we managed to catch an away game. It usually happened when we were both playing a game in the same city, but we took whatever we were given.

Things went down hill when she moved to Sweden.

She hadn’t been the one to tell me. Ellie was spending a week with me after returning from the Olympics, which I had managed to attend most of, and asked me how I felt about the move. Chloe and I had been dating for a year, so the shock that she hadn’t told me was bigger than the shock at the news.

“What do you mean? She would tell me if she was moving to Sweden.” The pity in my little sister’s eyes is enough to break me. She pats and rubs my back as I sob into her shoulder. My whole body shakes as I moan and weep, and by the time I stop my eyes burn and there isn’t a dry spot on her shirt.

“So this is it? You’re breaking up with me because I’m moving?” Chloe looks at me like I’ve got 2 heads as I stand on her front step.

“No, I’m breaking up with you because I had to find out from my little sister, by accident, that you’re moving. Were you ever going to tell me? Or was I just going to have to find out when The Jets removed your name from the squad list?”

“I’m going to come back for the A-League season anyway! It’s not like I’m never coming back, I’ll barely be gone 8 months. And I was going to tell you!”

“When? Once your plane touched down in Stockholm or wherever you’re going? In 5 months when I called you so you can explain why you didn’t come to my game? When were you going to tell me Chlo?” I’m met with silence.

“That’s what I thought.” I turn and walk away, never expecting to see her again.

I can hear her shouting something at me as I continue to walk down the road, droplets of rain beginning to fall on the pavement in front of me. Nothing really registers until I’m standing in front of my sister’s apartment door, clothes heavy with rain and a face void of any other emotion except heartbreak.

I don’t see Chloe for years to come following the tragic end of our relationship. Despite her coming back during the summer to play for Sydney, I had no reason to watch her games, Ellie having moved to Portland to develop her career.

Then Ellie moved to Lyon, and I decided to move with her, putting a pause to my cricketing career. Further away from Chloe and closer to Ellie seemed like the perfect deal.

So I helped Ellie move and meet her new teammates. Every morning I’d make her breakfast and then walk around the city, usually finding myself in a café or museum and writing a book. Something I never planned on doing anything with, but found a solace in.

That’s how I found myself in the same café I go to every Saturday, typing in the same document I have been typing in for 5 months. Desperately pressing the backspace as I sip the now cold coffee, I don’t notice someone sliding into the seat across from me.

“Fancy seeing you here.” I’m surprised I didn’t get whiplash at the speed in which my head snapped up to look at the girl across from me.

She looks different. Not really, just… older. And her hair is bleached, skin just a fraction more tan, eyes still that shimmering blue. Still beautiful

“Chloe- what the fuck are you doing here?” the words nearly get caught in my throat as I try to process what’s going on.

“Well, I’m playing for Bristol now, in case you didn’t know. Only spent 2 seasons in Sweden then went back to Sydney, went on loan to Washington for a season, back to Sydney, now I’m in England. We have a small break so I thought I’d come see Ellie. Planned everything around you, knew you wouldn’t want to see me. I didn’t take into account you might still like coffee as much as you used to.”

“How’d you even know I’m with Ellie?” it’s a dumb question but I ask it none the less.

“You think I stopped tracking your career because we broke up? I have to say, when I read the “renowned cricketer Y/N Carpenter taking a break for an unforeseen amount of time to help her little sister, Matildas star Ellie Carpenter, settle into the big leagues at Olympique Lyonnais.” headlines, I was shocked.” I finally managed to meet her eyes, the crow’s feet that crack at the corners making her ever the more pretty. It’s aggravating.

“Thought it’d help me get away from Sydney.”

“Sydney? Or me?” I almost want to grab her by the shoulders and scream at her how much I miss her, but I stay sat and silent. A satisfied hum escapes her lips and a smile graces her face.

“I miss you.” She says what I’m thinking, and I begin to think how much of a coward I am. It was so easy for her, why am I struggling?

She doesn’t let me reply, getting up and walking out. I get up to follow her but she’s vanished in the crowd, so I sit, letting my coffee grow colder, thinking about her.

~~~~~

“Ellie this is a bad idea.”

“Common. Meeks is bringing Harley and Kirstey. You love Harley. You can babysit!” my little sister is determined, although my fighting is useless as we drag our suitcases through the airport.

“Chloe is going to be there El.”

“Chloe is going to be here.” I nearly bump into her as she stops in front of us.

“And she’ll be your plane buddy.” The cheeky grin I was once so familiar with graces her face and I can feel the corner of my own lips twitching as my heart clenches. Fuck.

“Oh goody.” I try to ignore the sweat that begins to prick through my skin as Ellie stalks away from us to meet Emily Gielnik.

“Real talk.” Chloe’s face is serious as soon as we take our seats on the plane.

“I miss you, and I want to try this again. I get you may not want to but you can’t tell me you don’t still feel even the tiniest bit of love for me still.” Her finger waggles back and forth between as to indicate exactly what she’s talking about and I sigh.

“I miss you too…” I meet her eyes and I can see the hope that grows behind them.

“But if we try this out again, we have to take it slow. Like go out on a few dates to start with.”

“I can do that.” She eagerly nods her head in agreement.

“I’d really like that.” I smile back at her, and that seems to end the conversation.

As the engine rumbles and we begin moving along the tarmac, I rest my arm on the armrest. I gently slide my hand into Chloe’s and rest my head on her shoulder, closing my eyes. Maybe slow wasn’t necessary, I love her too much.

#woso x reader #woso #womens soccer #woso fanfics #wsl #olympique lyonnais #the matildas #chloe logarzo #chloe logarzo x reader #the matildas x reader #2020 olympics #olympics 2020

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butraura · 27 days

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Several Sentences Sunday!

tagged by @aspecbuddie

They head to the others and are greeted with boundless excitement. A couple basketballs are being dribbled for practice; about four of them are at the park, including Aaron. “Heyyyy,” Buck drawls, greeting them.

“Yo,” Aaron answers, pulling Buck in for a quick one-armed chest hug. “How’ve you been, man?” He turns to the others who start to encircle them. “Guys, this is the dude from the Academy I told you about. The one who was hit by lightning.”

“No way,” murmurs trickle across the group.

“Uh, y-yeah,” Buck chuckles warily. “That’s me.”

“Damn,” someone says.

Aaron shrugs. “Anyway,” he starts, extending a hand to Chimney. “I’m Aaron. Buck and I were in the Academy together. I’m with the 143.”

Chim takes his hand easily. “Nice to meet you, I’m Chimney.”

“Chimney?” The man is incredulous. “Sounds like a story behind that nickname.”

Buck snorts. “Maybe we’ll tell you about it when we win,” he winks.

“Oh, it’s like that,” Aaron taunts, everyone piling on at once animatedly. “Any more of you?”

“No, just us,” Buck answers.

“Actually,” Chimney interjects, “I invited Eddie.”

“You did?” Buck is taken aback.

He nods. “Yeah, they should be here any time.”

“They?”

As if summoned, Eddie’s voice can be heard laughing about something behind Buck as he approaches the group.

I thought he was busy, he thinks to himself.

Nothing in the world could have prepared him both for what he sees when he turns around, and the feeling that flourishes in the pit of his stomach as he takes them in.

Tommy.

It’s a hundred different feelings wrapped in a fleeting moment as he sees them walking together. Closely, and the space between their shoulders as they walk rivaling his own closeness with Eddie.

Tommy says something to his friend that Buck can’t hear, and the way Eddie throws his head back as he laughs makes his heart beat too quickly and painfully. He said he was BUSY.

No one pays attention to his spiraling and when they get to the group, Buck and Chimney are greeted familiarly. Tommy brings Chimney in for a pound hug and Buck is caught off guard when Eddie lighty nudges his arm with elbow. “What’s up?” he asks.

Buck stammers, panic sprouting in his features. “Uh, n-nothing. I thought you were busy today.” It comes out a little more accusatory than he means it to, but far less angry than he actually is.

Eddie is unphased. “Yeah, Tommy and I went for a ride in the chopper. We were talking about what it took to join Air Support.”

He says it so flippantly, so casual and easily, that Buck wonders if he could actually stab him with a sword just as carelessly.

tagging: @watchyourbuck @steadfastsaturnsrings @fortheloveofbuddie

#buck is a jealous baby boy and i love him dearly #buddie #911 #buck x eddie #spoilers #evan buckley #eddie diaz #mine #eddie x buck #tommy kinard #911 7x04 #spec fic #will be a one shot #trying my hardest to finish this before tuesday #idk

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philliam-writes · 1 year

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you are in the earth of me [03]

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

Content: no warnings apply

Summary: A hand catches your wrist. Warm fingers brush against the slip of skin where your glove ends, sending an electrifying shock up your arm. You start. Lockwood lets go and pulls back. “Like it or not, we are in this together,” he says quietly. His voice drops to a low tremble, gaining a quality that feels like a solid caress on your skin. Heat crawls up your neck. “And as with any proper team, there are no secrets, and no holding back valuable information. Deal?”

Notes: [01] || [02] | [04]

Words: 4.3k

A/N: A shorter chapter, but I still hope you'll enjoy it! Thank you so much again for all the support! ♥ If anyone new wants to join the taglist, just lemme know!

03: wring those embers

back then, i was dauntless and dawn could never know and my weakness made me weep less than i would ever show you — The Amazing Devil: The Calling

Indeed, at Rotwell everyone works hard to solve the Problem. It is quite impressive how immaculate they look while doing it—as though in addition to the highly sensitive Psychic Talents every Rotwell agent possesses, they secretly train to perform under stress with no fold in their jackets, no holes in their pants, no grime smudges on their faces. Seems as though your invitation to those seminars got lost on the mailing route.

You slither by the countless other agents in their splendid burgundy jackets, aware you stick out like a sore thumb with your torn coat and muddy steel-capped boots. After the night you had, it is hard to plaster on the charming smile that is Rotwell’s USP. Every winning smile sent your way by your colleagues is too bright, too clean. They look very new and fresh and shiny, like someone has popped them out of a plastic case this morning.

The glittering glass building rises on Regent Street with its smooth-fronted edifice of glass and marble. Snarling lions, holding rapiers in their forepaws, have been inscribed into the glass of its sliding double doors. Outside, a line of the desperate and ghost-haunted stands, waiting to get inside and petition the company for help. You squeeze past them inside the spacey foyer, a wide room with gold-fringed red carpets leading to the different departments laid out before a row of neat receptionists sitting at their tidy desks. Right at the room’s centre, in front of the white-marbled wide stairs leading to the upper floor, stands Tom Rotwell’s marble bust with its forever-frozen, blank expression passing judgement over his legacy. You feel very small under his scrutinising gaze, and duck along the marble pillars towards the maintenance apartment on ground floor.

Someone barks your name. There goes your plan to head in unnoticed and get cleaned up before any of the adult supervisors catches you. But when you turn, you recognise the scrawny boy heading your way: Aleck Gorobec, an agent from the Domestic Hauntings Division. He’s always had this habit of chewing on something—right now, he’s working a toothpick between his front teeth as though he’s trying to make a gap as wide as the Grand Canyon. “Hey, Crawford wants you in his office.”

The relief vanishes in an instant. If you had to chose between spending the afternoon in Daniel Crawford’s office or doing a tango with a Wraith, you’d be already on your way to put on your best Sunday dress.

“Like, right now? ‘Cause I really need to get a new jacket—”

“NOW now,” he says. “Better not keep him waiting, he seemed prety pissed. I think he got into a fight with his wife. Again.”

Even better. He’ll chew you, spit you out and feed your remains to that little rat of a dog he owns.

You will find no support in Aleck; now that he has relayed the message, he turns and saunters back to his little group of half-sized lackeys with identical hair cuts, leaving you to your fate.

So you make your way towards the staff elevators and think about faking a heart attack so you could skip seeing Crawford. They wouldn’t let someone with a weak heart deal with something as harsh as work regulations, would they?

The lift brings you up two more floors to the deputy sector. Each floor is lined with heavy crimson carpets you know for a fact are steam-cleaned every night when the majority of agents set out for cases. Employees on this floor have their own canteen and coffee shop regular agents aren’t allowed to use—you have a feeling a cup of coffee or tea they serve up here costs half of your rent compared to the one they sell downstairs that is delivered by the local Starbucks.

Muffled voices drift through the rows of closed oak doors. Somehow, the smell always reminds you of a teacher‘s room; stuffy but comforting in a way, the sleek couches and spartan cabinets in the small waiting areas and lounges have absorbed the coffee smell over the years.

Crawford’s office is at the end of the long hall. You were hoping he would be caught up in a phone call as well, but when you knock, there’s an immediate “Come in!”

Andrew Crawford is a small, stocky man with little to no neck depending on his mood for the day. Apart from making it his life ambition to harass every even slightly successful agent under the age of 25, his other hobbies include collecting every type of Little Trees Car Air Fresheners on the market. As far as you know, he doesn’t even own a car.

“Took you long enough,” Crawford grumbles. His little hairy moustache twitches in annoyance. “Take a seat.”

You prefer to stand. Somehow you don’t think that’s what Crawford wants to hear. So you make your way across the office, slowly sinking into the hard plastic chair. Deputies’ rooms are all furnished equally: marble-topped desks, chairs, bins, filing cabinets and a few plants. You count ten, eleven, twelve of those air fresheners hanging from a single yucca plant.

Crawford finishes abusing his plastic keyboard, throws a glance at a large-scale street map of the Strands, his area he’s responsible for, takes a swig of cold tea and turns to you for the first time.

“Wait, where’s your damn jack—” Crawford stops, takes you fully in: the tears and holes, the grime and ectoplasm smudges on the once-splendid red. He grunts, and leans so far back in his swivel chair it creaks loudly in protest. “Almost didn’t recognise it. Say, Rotwell is one of the best employers anyone with Psychic talents could ask for, don’t you agree?”

You hate questions like this. “I, er—yes?”

Crawford looks at you. Then looks some more, as though he’s just waiting for you to realise what this is all about. He clears his throat and leans forward, puts his massive arms on the table as though he’s just having a chat with a close pal in a pub after work. “See, thing is, I was informed you were seen with unknown operatives from other agencies. And last time I checked—” He turns to the monitor to his left, slams his thick fingers on a few keys—“you were not on a job that required assistance from external agents.”

You start fidgeting with the hem of your gloves. “Well, no, but sir, I was attacked—”

“I heard that happens from time to time when engaging ghosts.”

“No, I mean by a man. Someone alive.”

Crawford eyes you suspiciously with his tiny, dark eyes. “When did that happen?”

“In the early morning hours. Three, four a.m.”

“And what do you want me to do about it now?”

You open your mouth, and close it. One of Crawfords few talents is successfully making you feel as though you are the problem. What if you were? What if you’re overreacting? An agent’s life tends to be dangerous, what of it? “Well, the culprit is still out—”

“Do you have a name? Did you see his face?”

“No, and I didn’t, but—”

“Then what exactly do you expect from me? Clearly, nothing serious happened to you, you got off with just a few scratches. The real issue is that due to what recently transpired, further employment might be a problem.”

You grit your teeth against a groan of frustration, feeling your body burning with anger, your blood boiling with rage that threatens to spill over. “I have worked here for five years, without any complaints, no breaches of contract.” You ball your hands into tight fists. “I am an exceptional agent, you know that. And you’re letting me go just like that?”

Crawford sighs wearily. “Trust me, this isn’t easy for me either. I am aware you are one of our more lucrative agents. But lucky for you, we are not letting you go. I merely suspend you for conducting unauthorised work with an external agency. Until your suspension is lifted, all benefits are revoked. That includes using certain facilities and access to equipment for field work. You can leave your jacket here.” Crawford reaches forward and taps a spot on his desk with two fingers, before returning to the paperwork in front of him.

It takes a moment to stir from the ice-cold grip that has taken hold of your body and heart. Your mouth is dry and a fist-big chunk of anxiety is lodged tightly in your throat. “I was not working with anyone. This is all a misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding or not,” Crawford replies calmly; something has caught his attention on the monitor, he isn’t even looking at you, “we’re just taking safety measures to ensure the confidentiality agreement wasn’t breached on your end.”

“But I—”

He looks up at you then, and blinks as though wondering why you are still wasting his time. “And where is your rapier?”

“Still at ho—the dormitory.”

“All right. No need to bother. We’ll send someone later to clear out the room. If you need help finding new accommodates, there are a few establishments offering lodge for little money in Lambeth I heard.”

The aggressive typing resumes. You are clearly dismissed.

Wrenching out of the jacket, you make no effort to hide your anger and frustration. Crawford gets a balled-up knot of dirty fabric thrown on his desk, but he seems to care little for your tantrum safe for raising a single bushy eyebrow at the flickering screen.

You stomp outside the room, slamming the door shut behind you hard enough it rattles the golden-framed paintings of rolling hills and slithering lakes on the wall.

You’ll show him. You’ll show them all.

When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the polished glass window on your way out—no wine-red jacket, nothing to identify who your employer, no former employer was; just your tired face yet eyes bright with determination, for the first time since a long while, you look like yourself again.

At the Lions Den, it isn’t just the cleaning crew mingling near the entrance. DEPRAC vans park in front of the main doors. A few officers are lost in a deep conversation about the intricately interwoven iron railings decorating the windows on the first floor. Two very tall, very sturdy Rotwell agents stand guard, self-important and with their chests puffed out as though they are guarding Buckingham Palace itself.

There is no way you’ll be able to get inside through the main entrance—even if you did, you have a gnawing suspicion security has been tripled inside since yesterday. They must have figured out someone has broken in, otherwise why would DEPRAC be here?

You duck behind naked rhododendron bushes and sneak towards the iron door leading to the back garden. Many residences in Chelsea have garden terraces; this one is a courtyard between several buildings. Slim paths wind through the back and disappear behind shoulder-high hedges. The trees, their leaves turned gold and russet with the late fall, are strung with chains of white lights, and stylish ghost lamps scattered between them that give off the familiar green glow at night. A small fountain plashes musically in the centre of the yard.

Minding the pebbles crunching under your boots, you gingerly make your way across the lounging area, past the small tables and cushioned three-piece suites—until you catch the swish of a black coat disappearing around a corner.

Just great.

You hurry after it, hearing the crunch of stone under heavy work boots somewhere behind you. DEPRAC, or worse, Rotwell agents.

The two are hiding behind a bench facing the back entrance. Before whoever strolls behind you can round the corner, you grab Lockwood by the end of his coat, and Lucy by the back of her collar, and yank them behind the trunk of an elm casting long, dark shadows on the building.

“What are you doing here?” you hiss; all three of you are cowering so close together your knees almost touch.

Lucy looks as though she is still recovering from being grabbed like that—by considering if she should swing at you or not. Lockwood on the contrary has already collected himself and put on a diplomatic smile. Yet you can see the steady, fast hammering of his pulse against his throat.

“Why, Lucy has never seen the infamous Lions Den, that’s why I took her up on a little sightseeing—” Lockwood begins.

“We need to get inside,” Lucy hisses back. Straightforward, to the point, like an arrow aiming true. You can work with that.

“Not sure if you noticed, but Rotwell dormitories have a strict jacket-only policy,” you say. You feel their eyes on you like a pair of red-hot coals.

“Where’s your jacket then?” Lucy asks.

You draw your shoulders back. “I quit. This morning. Afternoon. So, no jacket for me.” What’s a little lie if they will never find out the truth. Whatever shrapnel of self-respect you can hold, you will staple it on you as though it is the last leaf whipping on a barren branch during a cold winter storm—the last remnant of the previous season where everything was warmer and cosier.

There is silence. You can hear the soft electrical hum of the lights and ghost lamps turning on above your heads as dawn sets in, the water plashing in the stone fountain in the centre of the courtyard.

Lockwood and Lucy exchange looks—it seems like a glance, but you recognise a full blown conversation governed by face muscles and eye narrowing; it is the same whenever you and Kipps argue about something without wanting a third person to understand the topic. Kipps’s teams calls it your ‘sibling conversation.’ Lockwood and Lucy look a lot like that right now, conjuring full volumes with shared glances only.

“Just follow me,” you mumble, and duck behind a juniper tree before they can reach the conclusion of their argument. “And keep your heads down.”

You lead them away from the agents strolling down the path you’ve been on just a minute ago. Lockwood and Lucy immediately stick to your heels, careful their heads don’t poke over the hedges.

The three of you sneak around the east wing, through another iron gate and pause to listen for voices. Only a couple House Sparrows chirp in the trees above your heads. This could be a graveyard for how frequent visitors stroll by.

Finding your apartment isn’t hard. Bright, neon-yellow DEPRAC tape marks an X where the full-height window, smashed and gaping, leads inside the rooms. Glass lies strewn across the grass. The entrance to your apartment is like a dark mouth, the broken glass still sticking to its frames standing out like jagged teeth.

Again, you listen for voices. Again, only silence answers. You look back at Lockwood and Lucy. “I’ll go check things out. You stay here and keep watch. If anyone comes, let me know.”

Not interested in any disagreement or otherwise unsolicited opinions, you turn to slip inside. A hand catches your wrist. Warm fingers brush against the slip of skin where your glove ends, sending an electrifying shock up your arm. You start.

Lockwood lets go and pulls back. “Like it or not, we are in this together,” he says quietly. His voice drops to a low tremble, gaining a quality that feels like a solid caress on your skin. Heat crawls up your neck. “And as with any proper team, there are no secrets, and no holding back valuable information. Deal?”

You wrestle with what you should say. You have never been skilled at putting things delicately. Frankly, you’re better off on your own than having to worry about those two—and yet. If Lockwood and his agents had not let you stay and patched you up, what use would have your confidence now?

Not trusting your voice, you nod.

Glass shards crunch under your boots when you step inside. The whole room is demolished: furniture overturned, the cupboards have been completely and methodically emptied. All the drawers are missing. What remains of your desk is splinters and broken leftovers. Your clothes have been ripped off the hangers and thrown on the ground, some even torn. You don’t want to think about how you would have met the same end if he had gotten you into his hands.

The wardrobe’s door barely hanging on its hinges squeals when you carefully pull it open. You find your duffel bag at the bottom, and meticulously start throwing whatever intact clothes you can find inside. A few shirts, something you can wear to sleep, underwear, a few jeans, your favourite turtlenecks, sweaters. A package of unopened gloves. Your library pass that grants you access to every Archive in London—the one you thought you’d lost a week ago and technically should return to Rotwell.

An old, outdated kit with a few zip fasteners missing hangs from a hook. Whatever leftover equipment from missions you’ve hoarded over the years—salt bombs, iron fillings, hands-sized lavender packages, one canister of Greek fire, a slightly rusty iron chain—you pull out from the back corner and cram inside the kit. There’s also the last model of a layered leather harness with small pockets and buckles to hold equipment that you prefer to the standard agent belt around the waist.

It should be enough to manage simple cases as a freelance psychic operative until you find your bearings and build a reputation. Type Ones should be no problem, and most non-agents can’t tell the difference between grocery-bought salt and the extra grainy and purified salt from Sunrise Corp. You’ll have to drop by at the Thames Embankment at some point, where a lot of the cheaper merchants ply their trade under the brick arches of Hungerford Bridge.

But your first job will be making sure no one will get hurt over that stupid key ever again.

There is one more thing. On the door, tapped against the wood, is an old photograph. Matthew, Kipps, you. Age eighteen and thirteen, the boys crowd you and pull grimaces behind your beaming face as you proudly present your shining new rapier and the Fittes Manual to the camera. Seven years, but it feels like a lifetime.

People always used to say that you two have the same eyes—everything else is different like night and day. His blonde curls shine like a halo in the setting sun stealing through the curtained window in the back. He has a half-smile on his face, and his head tilted towards Kipps as though he is just on the verge of turning and telling him something. You see the same dimple on his cheek that you have when you smile, and when you squint you can make out the small smudge of pasta on the corner of his mouth you guys had earlier to celebrate you achieving third grade.

You fight the urge to touch his face on the picture—the only comfort during the first months without him. Even though you know he won’t come back, sometimes you wished an echo would reverberate, something that connects you to him apart from the memory of the last day spent together before he died. You take the picture and fold it neatly before putting it into your back. Grief can try and catch up later when you’re too busy to give it more thought.

As you get your stuff ready, something glinting on the ground catches your eye. It is a small, polished coin, flat on one side and engraved on the other. Depicted on the bottom is an infinity sign, and above is a double cross. You brush your thumb against it, but of course there is no psychic echo attached to this item. Because it belongs to a living person—that living person who must have lost it when he destroyed the interior.

Beneath your gloves your palms are slick with sweat. You stare at the symbol for some time, unblinking. The bitter taste of a certain word spreads on your tongue, closing your throat.

Unwrapping this revelation will have to wait. You move swiftly to the hallway and stand before the umbrella rack that holds your rapiers. Most of them are a little too fancy not to link them back to one of the bigger agents with their jewelled handles, but there are two with simple designs, so you decide on the 17th Century Italian Rapier.

“Take the Solinger Rapier,” comes Lockwood’s voice from behind you, startling you. You shouldn’t be surprised he doesn’t listen to orders, still you throw a glare at him over your shoulder which he promptly ignores by giving you a bright grin. “More balanced.”

“So much for being a team. Scared I’ll just run off with the evidence?”

“Ah, so you did find something. Well, we at Lockwood and Co. hold teamwork to the highest account. It is only polite I help.”

Any reply gets stuck in your throat when loud steps thump on the other side of the apartment’s door. Lockwood and you look at each other, eyes wide.

You throw your kit at him without a second thought so you can go after your other bag, and to his credit, he catches it effortlessly and bolts for the smashed window. Before you follow, you quickly snatch the Solinger Rapier and fasten it to your belt.

With your duffel bag in hand, you join Lockwood and Lucy outside. The sun is already behind the horizon, the sky a pale grey-blue, the colour of tempered steel. You take your kit back from Lockwood, ignoring his satisfied grin like a cat in the sun when he notices which rapier model dangles from your hip, and lead them back through the gardens out on Dovehouse Street.

Everything is going so smoothly. Too smoothly. Since the universe can’t have that, just as you close the iron gate behind you and set out down the street to where you guys can call a cab, a familiar voice calls out your name—a voice that always has your fight-flight-response kicking in, tending towards fight the moment you turn around and see Sebastian Vernon’s self-satisfied, arrogant grin.

Sebastian Vernon, a fellow Rotwell operative at the height of his career: he’s recently turned 19, he managed to luck out a Jack of all Trades regarding Psychic Talents and sports an impressive, sharp jawline many girls you know swoon over. The Golden Boy, The Pride of Rotwell. Of course he developed an ego as big as an inflated balloon with nicknames like that.

“Did you get my note this morning?” His voice jolts you from your thoughts. “Great drawing, isn’t it?”

“So it was you. I almost couldn’t tell; it looked like a five year old drew that.”

A muscle jumps in his jaw, his smile cools down to freezing point. “I heard they kicked you out,” he continues. “What was it this time? Botched a job? Set a customer’s house on fire?” He strides towards you with his hands behind his back, his cologne trailing like a cloak. His hair is pinned up fashionably, expression arch. He has always possessed a regal bearing. You can’t understand how he manages to look down his nose at you, even though you are one head taller.

You have crewed with him sometimes during the years, and neither have warmed to the other. You try to chalk it up to personality conflict, but deep down, you know that it is mutual dislike. Sebastian always finds ways to make you feel less-than with the barest twist of inflection or a carefully chosen word slipped like a knife between the ribs, so sharp you don’t notice the wound until you look up from a lapful of blood. And you aren’t above a blunt riposte, even if it often comes far too late.

When he’s close enough to stand in front of you, he whistles. “Like what you did with your face. Gotta compliment whoever gave you that shiner.”

“Jealous they managed that within a day when you couldn’t do it in the last five years?”

His smile turns arctic. At least that’s something you can always hold against him: kicking his ass in every in-house rapier duel since joining Rotwell.

“Always with that big mouth,” Sebastian seethes. “Whoever rearranged your face should have done us all a favour and shut you up for good.”

“I would appreciate,” Lockwood says in a conversational tone, making you startle—you have completely forgotten him and Lucy, “if you do not threaten my agency’s associate.”

He holds himself leisurely, relaxed. His long, slender fingers curl around his belt—not outright resting on his rapier handle, but close enough that he could reach it with one swift, quick movement if he wanted.

Sebastian blinks. “I’m sorry, am I supposed to know who you are?”

A corner of Lockwood’s mouth twitches. His voice is deceptively calm, his smile wolfish. “Lockwood from Lockwood and Co.”

Sebastian’s pale blue eyes widen. He looks at you. “You’re telling me you’re working with Andrew Lockwood? From the Lockwood and Co.?” A sort of deranged laugh escapes him. “I know it’s bad, but I didn’t expect it to be that bad! Surely, even you can do better than Lockwood and Co.!”

You throw a quick glance at Lockwood. He regards Sebastian in silence, and his face can be hewn from marble in its impassivity, which you realise now makes him all the more terrifying. His gaze sharpens like a hound on the scent.

“Why not ask your ginger boyfriend if he can get you a position at Fittes’s?” Sebastian’s smile crooks into a cruel half-moon. “Or has he already reached his expiration date?”

You open your mouth—and to your surprise Lucy shoulders past Lockwood and wrenches one of your bags out of your hand. Her eyes are blazing, red blotches of rage spot her cheeks and neck. “His name is Anthony Lockwood. And Kipps—Quill Kipps has a name, too! If you don’t have anything nice to say to your fellow—former colleague after everything she’s been through, then best keep your mouth shut.”

She whirls around and marches off, like a sudden autumn storm sweeping through the streets. Lockwood and you share a look; you notice his eyes glint with barely contained mirth and pride before he dashes after Lucy.

When you glance at Sebastian, he keeps his face blank, but the emotion behind it becomes unsettling and dangerous, like a vague whiff of burning plastic from an electrical outlet.

You hurry after your two new companions. Sebastian’s voice trails after you like a shadow. “Careful you don’t get your new team killed. Again.”

You draw up your shoulders, take your doubt, ball it up, and crush it into a fuel you can use.

“So,” you say when you caught up with Lockwood and Lucy. You’d offer to take your bag back, but Lucy holds it as though she can’t wait to use it as a weapon and bludgeon someone with it. “Kipps has a name, too. Nice one.”

“Shut it. I just can’t stand haughty guys like him,” Lucy grumbles, impatiently swiping hair out of her eyes.

“Funny,” Lockwood notices brightly, “how you sometimes use that same voice with me.”

Lucy rolls her eyes, but some of the tension in her shoulders dissipates.

“I gotta admit, good teamwork so far,” you say. “I guess I can let you take a look at this.”

You flip the coin between your fingers and present it with the symbol up on your open palm.

Lockwood wastes no time plucking it from your hand, his fingertips brushing against your gloves. Even through the fabric, you feel the warmth of his skin. You put that information into a box, close it up, and shove it into a far, dark corner where you’ll hopefully forget it and it can collect dust.

“Fascinating,” Lockwood mumbles, inspecting the coin from every angle. “Does anyone know what this symbol means?”

Lucy glances at his open palm. “No.”

He said so earlier. No secrets, no holding back information. Yet this is something you can’t share yet. The fact that somehow, this symbol seems … familiar.

“No,” you echo, eyes fixed ahead on the road. Black clouds, like slabs of onyx, gather at the horizon, rolling over London. “Never seen it before.”

taglist: @helpmelmao, @simrah1012, @chloejaniceeee, @fox-bee926, @frogserotonin, @obsessed-female, @avelinageorge, @quacksonhq, @wordsarelife, @bilesxbilinskixlahey, @che-che1, @breadbrobin, @anxiousbeech, @charmingpatronus, @starcrossedluvr, @yourunstablegf, @grccies, @sisyphusmymuse, @ettadear

#lockwood show #lockwood books #lockwood & co #l&c #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x you #lockwood x y/n #lockwood netflix #lockwood and co reader #reader insert #lockwood reader insert #l&c reader insert #phill.l&c

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the-garbanzo-annex-jr · 2 months

Text

by Kassy Dillon

“We’re trying to get people to speak up,” Charlie Rich told Poupko when asked why the couple was on the street outside his home. “We’re advocating for peace.”

“How? By harassing Jews?” Poupko asked. “Harassing Jews is peace? What the heck is wrong with you?”

Poupko accused Thabisa Rich of engaging in “Nazi behavior,” to which Charlie Rich responded, “well, you do have a sign that says you support Israel.”

Thabisa Rich encouraged others to come back to the street with her during a livestream after she left the scene.

“You tell me when you want to come back and ask for a ceasefire and ask for this people to stop their hate because they think that they are white and privileged and that they think that their religion is superior than the rest,” she stated. “I need people to show up to this very same street. We need to find a time to come back and show up in numbers and say no, enough is enough.”

“America is a country full of hate and racism and people need to just be honest and understand that is just what it is,” she said.

Poupko said the mayor called him on Monday over concern about the incident.

“The reason he called is because there are many Jews in the neighborhood, and many were very shaken and felt targeted,” Poupko said, adding that his family recently moved to New Haven and had their first pro-Israel sign stolen last month.

Thabisa Rich invoked anti-Semitic tropes about Jewish power and said she would not condemn the terrorist group Hamas in now-deleted posts to her Facebook.

Since Hamas’s October 7, massacre of over 1,000 Israelis, Rich has frequently commented on the war, including stating on February 3 that she does “not condemn Hamas.”

On November 20, she voiced her frustration with people who are not speaking up about the war by invoking anti-Semitic tropes about Jewish money and power.

“Your silence is starting to signify complacency,” she wrote. “I promise I understand that some of y’all have your pockets lined with bosses who are Jewish.”

During the Super Bowl on Sunday, Rich said she was “sick of these Jew focused ads [sic].”

“We have been witnessing Jewish folks inflicting hate,” she said in another post the same day. “It’s not made up.”

Thabisa Rich, who often discusses her status as an immigrant, had multiple now-deleted posts to her Facebook about her disdain for the United States.

In multiple posts to her Facebook she expresses her disdain for America, despite living in the country as an immigrant from South Africa, including calling the U.S. “Amerikkka” and claiming it is run by “DICKtators.”

She commented on the situation with Poupko as well, stating that she was “insulted and intimidated by the jewish family (that just moved in 3 months ago) [sic].”

“She wrote on social media she is being harassed by a Jewish family when she is the one who showed up with a megaphone in front of my house,” Poupko said.

#thabisa rich #harassment #hamas #gaza #south africa #rabbi elchanan poupko #new haven connecticut

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liquid-luck-00 · 7 months

Text

Marks of Magic

Day 3 Curse of Maribat Spooktober 2023

First *** Previous *** Next

Language and cursing is used

1470 words

~~~~~~~~~~

On one hand her parents were supportive and agreed that her taking time away from Paris would be good for her. So they helped her pack on Saturday night, seeing as she was leaving very early on Monday morning.

She didn't hear anything about Gabriel Agreste, but there were whispers wondering why Hawkmoth was quiet.

No she hasn't said anything, except to Luka, no one else knows that the war in Paris is over. There was no way she could after all. She couldn't become Ladybug, and she couldn't do it as Mari without her life turning upside down. Hopefully the people of Paris will believe the miraculous went dormant.

Hopefully.

Sunday she tried to adjust to E.S.T. so she wouldn't be too jet lagged on Monday. And it worked to an extent, mostly she got some much needed sleep and was able to make it through with a cup of coffee.

There was only enough time for her to set her things in the apartment, that was provided with the transfer program, and change into the uniform before leaving again.

She grabbed her backpack and left for the Academy, which was less than a block away.

She arrived a bit early and made her way to the office.

"Hello?" She called out to the empty office.

"Oh! Hi there." A woman popped her head out of an adjoining room. "How can I help you?"

"I’m here to pick up my schedule."

"Oh the new transfer student."

"That would be me." She smiled at the woman who had moved to the desk by the door.

"Your name please, hun."

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

"And here we go, and you’ll need this too." She printed out a paper and pulled a second from a cabinet. She grabbed a pen from a cup and started marking a map she had pulled out. "Here we go, sweetie."

"Thank you, madame."

She called as she left the office and stepped into the hall.

She easily found her home room class, the door was slightly ajar. Inside the teacher was at his desk and a single student was in the classroom, the others she passed in the courtyard and hallways.

"Hello Mr. Argyle."

The teacher looked up. "You’re the new student?"

"Yes sir."

"Only desk open is next to Mr. Todd." He pointed at the boy who was currently reading. Before promptly ignoring her and continued reading over the papers in front of him.

So she started walking towards the boy, Todd she recalled he was called.

"Hello." She smiled at him as she was about to put her bag down.

"Fuck off." He responded without even looking at her.

She blinked, and before she could think her mouth moved before her brain could process wether it would be an appropriate response.

"Well aren’t you charming." She set her things down and pulled out her sketch book. "And for the record, this is apparently the only open seat."

"You’re new, aren’t you?"

"Really! What gave it away?" She snorted, before looking over. He was staring at her as if she were a puzzle. Once the silence between them stretch a bit to long she quirked a brow, which broke him from his daze.

"Sorry about that, habit'.'

He rubbed the back of his neck. His black hair was messy, styled up out of his face. His eyes a blue, lighter than her own, with flecks of green. A small scar ran through his upper lip, as of he had been in a fight.

"It’s fine, I wasn’t much better after all." Her lips flicked in a small short smile. "Marinette."

"Jason."

They each turned towards their silent time occupants, until the bell rang a few minutes later. Their classmates started to file in and take their seats, where Mari was instantly pounced on, a group of students flocked the table to ask questions.

"Class is about to start, so sit down."

"No one was talking to you." A red haired girl with green eyes snapped at Jason, Alice she introduced herself as.

"You don’t want to rub off on the poor girl." A boy with blonde hair and grey eyes followed.

"Why are you talking to him like that?" She had to ask.

"He’s cursed no one can stand sitting at the same desk everyone has to transfer to another class within a week." Alice explained as if she was stupid.

"He’s a street rat and doesn’t belong. That’s all there is to it." Mathew, the boy sneered.

Great they really are everywhere. Now that is a real curse not whatever they think this is.

She looked behind her towards Jason. When she did he jumped out of his seat, hands balled into fists.

"I’ll show you what a street rat can do to you, a pansy rich kid." Jason snarled.

"Just cause you were adopted by someone in our circle." He motioned towards the rest of the room. "Doesn’t mean you have class."

Jason was pulling back as of to throw a punch, but she was unfortunately between both boys at the moment.

"Then why don’t you lead by example." That took everyone by surprise, so much Jason froze mid swing.

"Boys!" The teacher finally decided to intervene. "Everyone in your seats now!"

There was some grumbling among the students but she learned quite a bit from that.

One, there was a hierarchy, just like DuPont, but here it was measured by wealth than by achievement.

Two, Alice and Mathew were the queen and king, no one else tried to stop or say a thing.

Three, the teachers might actually do something, but only if things were getting out of control.

Well it’s a start, she took a breath as Mr. Argyle took attendance. Home room is just quiet time slash study hall after all so she looked down at her sketch book. She pulled her new journa from her bag and flipped to the first empty page. Which she placed between the two of them.

M. They are just assholes, don’t let it get under your skin.

Jason glanced at the words before stealing a glance at her.

J. They aren’t wrong.

M. That doesn’t mean they have to tear you down.

He lifted the pen almost going to write but stopped. She almost thought to write more when he did.

J. It doesn’t matter, you aren’t going to be her long anyways.

He turned to the book in front of him ignoring her completely. She doesn’t know why those words stung as hard as they did. She is only here for a semester, and in the long run that’s not long at all. Maybe it's because he might believe he is cursed. But she could guess why if the snippets of gossip the two shared was actually true.

Everyone ostracized him because of his early upbringing, thinking he is lesser, but she has a feeling that’s not the case.

Homeroom was coming to a close so she pulled out her map and schedule to see what was next. Ancient history to the 16th century, at least she wasn’t studying American history, that would kill her.

The bell rang and she started gathering her things.

"I can take you."

"I’m sorry?"

She looked at Jason. "History I’ve got it next too."

"Oh. That would be great." She smiled grateful he was at least talking to her.

"Seriously girl, you don’t want to become a social pariah on your first day, do you?" She heard Alice sneer, those words pulled memories from Paris that she really didn't want brought up right now.

Resulting in her sassing off like she was talking to her ex-friends in Paris. "If the alternative is kissing up to you I’ll pass, let’s go."

She practically marched out of the room, pulling Jason out of the room by his sleeve cuff.

"She’s right you know."

"People like her are insufferable. Why are there bullies everywhere I go! I swear I’m cursed to cross paths with them." She walked beside him, pouting as he led the way.

"Let me see your schedule." She handed him the page, and soon she heard him laughing.

"What’s so funny?"

"We have the same class schedule, which means you’ll have three more classes with her."

"Ugh." She deflated, then a thought occurred to her. "That means you’ll be there too, and you are so far the least insufferable person I’ve met so far." She smirked at him.

"Oh well that has to change." A smirk on his lips flashed as well. "I can be plenty insufferable."

Well this isn't going to be half as boring as she feared. In fact its shaping up to be a blast. Who cares what some stuck up rich kids think about her anyways. She is the savior of Paris and she decides how her life will unfold.

~~~~~~~~~~

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@jennifer-rose123

#Maribat Spooktober 2023 #Maribat October Prompts #maribat #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #dc x miraculous #miraculous x dc #ml marinette #maribat jason todd

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greeniegreengreen · 1 year

Note

Hi! Can I request gojo x falling in love with his booty call who's in denial that he loves her and she lives him?

A/N: First request on this account and I'm so happy about it!! Took a while to do because I had an assignment due last Sunday.

College Au - Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader - FWB to Lovers

Warnings: Suggestive themes, Mentions of Alcohol/Tipsy Folks, MDNI & Ageless Blogs will be blocked

Word Count: 1809

I hope you enjoy @diavolosbaby!!

Wish me luck

Phone clutched in his hand as he stared back at the text. Deciding to not reply to it, he put his phone face first on his desk and redirected his attention to the lecturer.

He wasn't able to focus on what she was saying though. The message clouding his mind along with questions of his own.

She had told him about her crush on Nanami. He had encouraged her to pursue it. She had mentioned how their arrangement would have to come to an end if she wanted to proceed with a relationship. He had said he didn't mind.

So why did it bother him she was really going to ask him out?

Why did he harbour so much hate for himself for playing the supportive friend in this?

They were just friends that fucked. Heavy emphasis on friends. They weren't exclusive or getting to that point. So this shouldn't bother him that much.

His phone vibrates again and he's quick to pick up on the pattern. He had customized it a while back to make it easier to identify when she had sent him a message.

Not wasting a second he unlocks his phone and immediately regrets doing so.

guess who has a date this Friday~(˘▾˘~) you're gonna help me pick an outfit right

Heart dropping he tried to type back a reply. Of course Nanami would agree. In the little group they had it was very evident Nanami liked you back.

sure

He should be a lot more excited for you but for some reason he can't bring himself to it.

Maybe the loss of his daily fuck was what made this an issue for him?

It had to be. The only reasonable explanation there was in his head.

***

The end of class could not have come fast enough.

With the worry on his face as he packed his bag, Geto took notice.

"Didn't understand what Mrs Wagner was saying again?"

He paused his packing and looked up at his best friend.

"It's not that." He shoved his laptop in it's pocket and zipped up the bag. "I'm just thinking."

"About?" He watched his friend get up from his seat and toss the bag onto his back.

"Don't worry about it." he tried to get Geto off his case. "It's nothing serious."

Geto gave him a doubtful look but decided to let it go as they left the hall together.

Walking through the courtyard on their way to their apartment Geto's phone went off. He pulled it to see who had messaged him. Gojo not taking notice to it as he was stuck in his thoughts.

"Oh?" He voiced after reading the message. "Nanami got asked out by [Y/N]. Now that's a pair I didn't expect to happen."

He replied back to the text.

"They'll look cute together, no?" Looking to his right at Gojo who despite not being present before was fully aware of everything Geto was saying now. His clenched jaw an indication to that.

"I doubt." He disagreed.

"Why not?" He asked, curious to hear what Gojo would say.

"They just don't click." Like she and he did.

"They could. A relationship is all about learning about the other." he looked ahead as they were slowly approaching their building.

"Even so, they barely spent enough time together." Unlike they did.

"True. Haven't seen them have a conversation for longer than 10 mins" He looked at him thoughtfully. "I still think they could make it work."

"I highly doubt that." Gojo said with a roll of his eyes.

He may not have been looking at Geto but Geto was sure to take note of every little twitch that pulled his face. The slight furrow of his snowy eyebrows, the tick in his jaw. He wasn't happy about this news and it showed.

"By some chance," he started as they got in the elevator and Gojo pressed their floor. " Would you have a crush on [Y/N]?"

Gojo's head turned to look at his friend for the first time since they left the class. He tried to read his facial expression to see if it was a joke of a question he was being asked.

None. Geto was dead serious.

No one knew about the arrangement as per your request. So Gojo not wanting to anger you and continue what you had going kept his mouth shut. Not even his best friend got an inkling to what was going on. The secrecy of it all did make it more exciting.

But a crush?

On [Y/N]?

Impossible.

"No, I don't" He turned to look ahead of him as he exited the elevator.

Reaching their shared home, he pulled out the keys to unlock the door. Geto not far behind him.

"Well it looks to me that you're jealous." He said.

Stumbling with the lock at that statement, he got it in and opened the door.

Jealousy?

Is that what he was feeling?

"If you like her, now would probably be the best time to tell her. Nanami seemed awfully excited by the sound of his message." He set his bag by the couch and plopped down on it.

Gojo made a beeline to his room not wanting to hear any more of what his best friend had to say.

Upon entering he dropped his bag on the floor. Fell onto his bed face first face and laid like that for a bit.

"Okay okay waait." you slurred as you and Gojo sat on his bed with an open bottle of wine between you two that you shared swigs of.

The party going outside his room basically shook his door from how loud the music was being played. It was times like this that he was glad he and Geto agreed to moving into a Student Residential instead of a normal setting.

His fellow peers were too busy getting drunk, sleeping or minding their own business to care about another random party happening on a Saturday night.

"I never pegged you for the submissive type." you gave it some thought, or as much as your just above tipsy mind would allow.

Gojo grabbed the bottle between you two and chugged down a bit letting the sweet liquor take over his throat. "Well it'd mostly depend on the person in charge. I can't just submit to anybody ya know."

"So," you took the bottle from him and swung it back finishing it's contents, "If it were me?"

You got on your hands and knees and crawled the short distance between you two, making sure that once you got close enough to get on your knee in front of his sat body making him look up at you.

He brought his hands to your waist as his pupils dilated in the blue sea that were his eyes. You slowly caressed his smooth face with both your hands before moving one to his hair, pulling it back a little more till he was looking at you through his fair eye lashes.

"Well if it were you I don't think you'd be able to handle me right." he said, voice barely above a whisper but loud enough to hear over the music that thumped his door.

He moved his hands up and down your body feeling you up before slipping them under your shirt and gripping the skin that was there.

"is that a challenge pretty boy?" you started closing in on his lips.

"And what if it is?" he was visibly excited.

"Then I'm gonna have to take you up on it." your breathe fanned his lips before securing yours on his.

***

The day after you had found yourself in his bed naked in his arms. You may have drunken a lot but you sure as hell were not that drunk to forget everything that happened.

Getting out of the bed and looking for your clothes must've been what woke him up. He watched you in silence get dressed before deciding to make it known he was awake too.

"Morning." he greeted giving you a little jump.

"Oh, morning Gojo."

"Satoru."

"Oh, first name basis now?" you teased.

"I had you screaming it, I don't see why we'd have to revert back to my surname at this point."

He was right. If anything after last night's event, reverting back to how things were was going to be weird.

"So," you started trying to figure out how to word what you were about to ask while looking for your bottoms. "Friends?"

"Personally...I'd like to keep this going." he looked at you expectantly awaiting your response.

You paused your search to look at him. He was very much still in his birthday suit with his covers on his bottom half.

Would you like to go into an arrangement with the same man you had a what you define as a high school crush on?

Would it be a good idea?

Well, if you were least likely to end up in a relationship with him why not just have a little fun with this.

Fuck it.

"I'm up for it."

He gave you a lazy smile before getting up from his bed. You watched his sculpted body leave his covers and make his way towards you.

"What you want to pinky promise to this?" you let out a little laugh.

Arm snaking around your waist while the other went to cup your cheek.

"I was thinking of something a lot better."

That was about 4 months ago.

Nothing really changed from where you two stood as friends other than the fact you fell harder for Gojo each day while unknowing to Gojo himself he was in the same predicament.

Sure he enjoyed the sex but he enjoyed your company as well. Jus having you around to talk to or watch a movie or go on a random adventure or coffee shop hangouts or having study sessions together made his day.

He loved the way you laughed at his dumb jokes and the smile you gave him that you didn't really give to anyone else. He loved getting to cuddle you while watching a series you found together. He loved hearing about your latest interest and the excitement you held behind each word.

He loved...

He loved you.

He LOVED YOU.

He's a fucking idiot for not understanding that so soon. it was right in front of him.

But you liked someone else.

So what does it matter.

A lot. It matters a lot.

He got out his bed to grab his phone in his bag.

What was he doing?

Pulling up your chat obviously.

Was he going to confess his newly discovered love for you over text?

Why of course not.

He was going to invite you over. A lot needed to be discussed anyways.

come over? we need to talk

What did y'all think though? It'd be nice to get some feedback since I haven't written for quite some time now.

So um,,,this is gonna be getting more parts than this because I didn't reach the cutesy ending I wanted to. I also didn't want to make it too smutty since I wasn't sure if you'd like it but if you would like the stuff they do inbetween I can write those seperately!!

Will go through at a later stage to edit it.

#mgojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento #fwb to lovers #smut #gojo x fem!reader

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