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reidgraygubler · 3 years

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short skirt, high heels (spencer reid/reader)

Title: short skirt, high heels,

Anon requested: Hi! May i please have a Spencer one shot? y/n has been part of the team for a while, she’s confident, fun and always wearing professional but slightly sexy workwear. Spencer is caught staring at y/n legs while she’s wearing a skirt. Her and Spence have a flirty friendship that leads to more?

Couple: spencer reid/fem reader

Category: spicy fluff

Content Warning: comments about sex, sex jokes, swearing, low-key sub!spencer, low-key dom!reader, mentions of drinking (but no actual drinking)

Word Count: 2,371

Summary: Spencer has had a crush on reader since she basically started working for the BAU. It doesn’t help that reader dresses to leave a little to the imagination and is constantly flirting with him.

A/N: this is my first time writing dom(-ish)!reader… let alone sub(-ish)!spencer… so pretty please bare with me with this one… i mean, i think i did a dom(-ish)!reader... but yeah! thank you everyone for the love and support! check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

I don’t know why I wear such revealing clothing to work. It’s modest and professional, I just have to put that out there. But, it is on the sexier side of clothing. I suppose I do it because I like it, it makes me feel more confident. And you need a certain level of confidence to have a job at the FBI’s prestigious Behavioural Analysis Unit.

The way people's eyes followed me felt great. I loved it. But it was always one person who caught my attention, or I caught their attention I should say. It was always the same person, and will forever be the same person. Spencer Reid’s eyes have been on me since day one, not that I’m complaining.

I could picture it clearly how his eyes followed me from the elevator all the way to Hotchner’s office. And how red his face was when Derek called him out about. It was honestly my favorite thing in the world. I kinda felt bad about the teasing he got. But, he shouldn’t have been staring in the first place. It was my first day! I didn’t know him… Let alone did he know me.

A pile of files was sitting in one arm, while my free hand held a small briefcase. The elevator was a scratchy silvery color, and the lights from above reflected off every surface.

My hair was pulled back in a high and curly ponytail. A tight, navy blue, pencil skirt clung to my legs, and a modest, yet very low, red blouse hung from my shoulders. I typically try to do subtle makeup for professional days, but I always look like some sort of supermodel at the end of the day.

The doors to the elevator doors dinged open, showing me, behind a floor to ceiling window, the open offices of the BAU. Aaron Hotchner would be the man I was looking for, but their offices were so open, people were walking around, bustling because of their copious amounts of work. Can’t wait for that to be my life.

I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear as I entered the main office area. A few people were sitting and standing around one person’s desk. They were all laughing and talking to each other as the people around them worked their asses off. Their boss just lets them do this?

I furrowed my eyebrows as I walked into the office area some more. People were still rushing past me, not talking to me. I know for a fact I don’t look familiar to anyone here, and I look lost to everyone. A little help would be nice.

“Could you tell me…” I started to talk but didn’t get to finish my thought when the person just continued walking. I let out an annoyed sigh and went to stop someone else, but fail when they glared at me and kept walking.

“Uh, Aaron Hotchner’s office?” I failed again. I threw my head back and let out a deep sigh. I didn’t realize just how busy it was today. If I had known it was so busy, I wouldn’t have come in today.

“Excuse me,” I stepped right in front of someone else and they stopped to look at me.

“I’m sorry, I gotta go. Time-sensitive thing,” they pointed at their watch before pushing past me. I bit my lower lip and shook my head again.

“Can anyone please tell me where Aaron Hotchner’s office is?!” I only half-shouted. I still gotta maintain some level of professionalism. I was just getting fed up with everyone ignoring me. Everyone around me stopped their movement and looked at me.

The group of people at the desk all stared at me with wide eyes before pointing towards the other side of the room. I looked at everyone before looking at where they were pointing. A man wearing a black suit and a businessman haircut was standing on a small catwalk, looking at everyone in the office area. Although, he was mostly looking at me. I widened my eyes and looked down at the ground with wide eyes before walking over to him.

“Hi, you must be Aaron Hotchner,” I looked up at him before introducing myself. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene,” I looked back out in front of us. Everyone was back at their work, even the people at the desk. All except for one person.

A man, who was with the group around the desk, was staring at me. Not near me or at Aaron, but right at me. It was just obvious that he was staring at me. His eyes carefully lingering on my legs, or arms, or my chest for the briefest second. But never long enough on my face. Although when he did look at my face, I smiled and winked. His face grew three shades red.

“No, no, don’t worry. I understand the hustle and bustle of this place,” Aaron laughed before turning to look at me, “Let’s step inside my office.”

So, that’s where I was work-wise. Working on the team with the BAU, with the man who stared at me and became a tomato the second I winked at him. Ah, good ole’ Spencer Reid. That boy doesn’t even know he’s infatuated with me… But I do.

I’ve had my fair share of flirts with him, and scandalous comments made about the two of us. Or, the jokes and teasing made by others. Although, our friendship always had some sort of flirtiness to it, even if he didn’t notice he was flirting with me. There was still something there. I smiled at the thought of him being so oblivious and clueless.

Derek giving him pointers or tips was my favorite. The help was nice, honestly. But, it was the execution. It was a little sad when Derek left to be with Hank and Savannah, leaving poor Spencer to fend for himself. Of course, Rossi tried but no really let Spencer listen.

I could hear his voice now when he told Derek and David that he didn’t need tips or pointers, because ‘He doesn’t have a crush on her.’ They never really gave up on that though.

“Seems like you’ve caught someone’s attention,” Emily muttered as she looked down at the desk. I glanced over my shoulder and noted that the eyes one Spencer Reid were wandering up and down my lower half and backside. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dressing for a guy. I mean, I dress mostly for myself. But the unwanted, yet wanted, attention from one guy was excellent.

“And he says he doesn’t have a crush on me,” I looked back at Emily with a smile. She laughed as she looked at the paperwork I was signing. “Do you think he even knows he’s staring?” I spoke as I placed the pen down on the desktop.

“I don’t think he knows he likes you,” she replied, finally shuffling the papers together in a neat pile. I scoffed and shook my head. “C’mon, you know Reid. He’s got the innocence of a 1st grader when it comes to relationships and romance,” she laughed as she stood up straight.

“True, this is true,” I returned the laughter as I stood up so I was no longer leaning over my desk. “All done with paperwork?” I asked, smiling at Emily.

“For now, I hope,” she laughed as she picked up the papers. “Good luck with you know who,” she spoke in a sing-y song tone before slipping away to her office. I looked back over my shoulder and smiled when I saw that Spencer was still staring at me.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” I winked once he looked up at my face. And I swear, his face changed several different shades of red as he looked at me. He went from looking normal to looking like Roma Tomato. I didn’t feel bad about my joke either. It wasn’t the first time I’d caught him staring at me. “Or just close your eyes and use your robot brain to take a picture,” I smirked at him.

“I… I wasn’t staring,” Spencer muttered as he pulled his eyes from my body to look at his own paperwork. I slowly walked away from my desk and over towards him. I leaned over so I was the same height as him. But, that also gave him a great look at my cleavage. I smirked when he struggled to not stare at my chest.

“Sure you weren’t,” I placed my hand to his cheek and smiled. For a moment he leaned more into my touch, but instantly jerked away from my hand, “It’s okay, you weren’t staring at me. I get it.” I smiled and cocked my head, “I know how I look. I’d stare too if I was you,” I pulled my hand away from his face before sitting down in his lap. Spencer held his hands up so he wasn’t touching me at all. I had to force myself not to pout. I’d be okay if he touched me in any way, innocent, not innocent… Doesn’t matter.

“What are you doing!? There are people here! Watching!” He exclaimed once I was settled on his legs. I smiled and nodded.

“I know, I know,” I whispered as I wrapped my arms around his neck, “But, the next time I catch you staring at my ass, I’m gonna do a lot worse than sitting on your lap, Reid,” I smiled and blinked at him. He stared at me and nodded slowly, like even though he understood the words I was saying, he knew he wasn’t going to follow through with them.

It was impressive how his face got even redder. But it was crazy. I kinda liked it too.

“Do you understand?” I whispered as I looked at him. He nodded. I smiled again before I stood up. “I’d understand if you look again, I won’t be upset. In fact, I’ll encourage it, Spence,” ” I kept smiling at him as I walked away from him.

I returned to my desk and gathered my things before I left the office for the day. As I looked over my shoulder, Spencer was definitely staring at me, and he knew I definitely caught him. So, I smiled before winking and waving as the elevator doors shut.

{***}{***}{***}

“O’Keefes anyone?” Luke asked as we stepped off the elevator. I rolled my shoulders and looked at him with a somewhat flirtatious smile. He returned the smile and winked.

“I’m always down to go to O’Keefes with you, Lukey Poo,” I cooed as I pinched his cheek. A groan came from the back of the group, causing me to turn and look. A smile grew on my lips when my eyes landed on Spencer, who had rolled his eyes and looked away from Luke and I. “You comin’ with us, Pretty Boy? First-round on me?” I smiled at him.

“I’m definitely in if you’re buying drinks,” Jennifer looked at me before stepping ahead of Luke and I. I smiled at her before looking back at Spencer.

“Pretty please,” I half begged as I pouted my lower lip and gave my best puppy dog eyes. Spencer looked back at me, a pointed stare in his eye. I gave him my best puppy dog eyes and playful pout as I looked at him. “You don’t even have to drink. You can just sit there and be quiet,” I spoke before abruptly stopping in my tracks. And just as I turned around, Spencer walked right into me. In order to keep me from toppling over, he grabbed both my arms to keep me upright. His hands were touching the exposed skin on my arms, causing me to smile. This would be the first time he was touching me, off of a case. Working on a case is a whole different story. Pulling me out of the way of an unsub is different than firmly placing his hands on my arms to steady me from falling.

“You need to be more careful… I won’t always be there to catch you when you fall,” he spoke low just so I could hear him. I smiled as I looked up at him.

“But, I’d love it if you were there,” I lifted a hand to place on his chest. Just as he opened his mouth, someone appeared beside us. I smiled as I looked over at the person.

“Will you two just get a room already?” Emily looked between Spencer and I before leaving us alone. I looked back up at Spencer with a new, confident, and flirtatious smile. He looked clueless as always. Of course, he didn’t know what Emily meant by that.

“Whaddya say we go find a broom closet and show up to O’Keefes a little later than the others,” I carefully wrapped my arms around his neck. Even in my highest heels, Spencer was still a good few inches taller than me. So, I stood on my toes to try to get closer to his personal space and lean closer to his face. “I know where some great broom closets are to get… funky in,” I whispered as I leaned closer to him. We were a good few inches away from each other, and it was taking everything in me to not press my lips to his.

“I… I, uh... Uh,” Spencer started, but clearly couldn’t find the words to say anything. I smiled before lifting a finger to his lips.

“Just a nod or a shake of your head will be okay… And, if you say no, I won’t be upset. I’ll stop and I won’t bring it up again… Now, Doctor Reid,” I whispered as I pulled my finger away from his lips. “Do you want to go find a broom closet and have some fun in there?” I asked again. Spencer stared at me with wide eyes before rapidly nodding. I put my arms back around his neck before pressing my lips to his. Spencer placed his hands firmly on my waist.

And after 8 years of working here, I’m finally getting what I want.

taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto

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the-crows-typist · 3 years

Note

Since your latest post says you’re back, I’d like to request a ficlet with Azul x F!mc with the random word as curious. I’m so glad to hear you’re back as I really enjoy your writings, thank you 😊!

Thanks a lot Anon, I hope you like this piece of mine.

CW: Minor mention of bullying, Angst with a Happy Ending, minor mention of wound, wound healing and potential OOC

Word count: 3,435

The Possibilities are Endless

“I made a promise to you.”

Curiosity. Inquisitive, wondering, ready to poke around and figure something out. Around him, all he ever saw the deep blue, the seagrass, the fish he could easily catch with one of his tentacles. Octopi like his were curious by nature and often to a slightly violent extent. He would peak his head over the surface, watching the seagulls cry overhead and the humans walking over planks of wood. In the disguise of the night, the young boy could always watch humans at their most natural and most vulnerable and wonder to himself what life would be like had he been born a human.

He doubted it would be any different from the life he lived day today.

As fun as learning was, it was boring not being able to share it with those who cared. Time with his classmates was bad during classes and all the more during recess but during the times Azul could escape their grasp quick enough, he would swim to lonely areas around the school to read and write his learnings in discarded shells, flipping through page after page of borrowed books from the library learning and taking in the information written on paper.

His hand halted on a picture of children playing; the light brown color of dirt, the bright colors of shirts and dress, the happy yet dirtied faces of the youth who continued to pass the ball to one another. The young octopus' shoulders hung low, his eyes training down and at nothing. Would his life be that different had he been born human? Would he be able to play with the other children had he been given two legs instead of eight?

There was a sniffle and Azul's rubbed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe slowly. Suddenly something hit his head, something like and equally small. A red sandal floated down to his lap, a kid's shoe. From above, a shadow loomed over him, and on instinct, he gathered his things and rushed to the nearest hiding place. There was the smell of blood in the water, the boy taking courage to peek from the safety of his hiding place.

A girl whose hair flowed in the water like a ribbon speared a fish right through, her mouth covered with a breathing apparatus, eyes protected with goggles, and a red sandal missing from her left foot. Azul looked at the Sandal at his hand then to the girl who expertly drove her spear into another fish. He had never seen a human this up close before and with that spear, he could easily get hurt…Looking at her again, she reached down, patting her empty foot while bubbles released from her breathing gear.

The boy moved slowly and glided through the water while leaving all but the sandal behind. He stopped in his tracks when she turned around, her eyes shined brilliantly behind the foggy looking goggles and immediately trained to the sandal in his hands.

"Y-yours…?"

He offered the sandal to her, both hands holding it up. She nods her head, taking the shoe from him and slipping it back on. Her hand moved, palm motioning him to follow and finger pointing up. Come with me. He hesitated for a moment, knowing that she came to the sea to hunt and with a spear full of nearly dying fish didn't help her image any better. He pointed at the spear to his chest, finger pushing to the skin and she shook her head. At that moment, she took his wrist and swam up with a swarm of warm bubbles floating around them. Azul wondered if following this human girl to the surface was a good idea if leaving the school so suddenly was all right but seeing her hold him without disgust…

It struck a chord with him.

She gasped when they broke the surface, the sun beating down on them from high above. It was the middle of the day, a time when sailors slept and the water becomes calm. Next to them was a small boat where the girl threw her spear in along with her gear. Without the goggles, he could see her clearly, she had eyes like molten gold and hair stringy like seagrass. "I'm sorry I had to bring you up here with me. My oxygen was running out and I couldn't hear you."

"It's okay." He said softly, his eyes lingering to the boat then to her. "Um…Did you come here to look for fish?"

"Yup. Fish are easier to catch than chickens or boar." She laughed, her teeth shiny and smile wide, it was cute and Azul couldn't help but sink into the water to hide his blush. "But it kinda does suck when they're really small, though. I wish I could capture bigger fish so I can have a feast but usually, adults have to do it or I get pulled in trying to catch it."

"Like groupers?" He asked. "The big kind?"

"Yeah! Those are really big and taste good too. A light grilling and some salt really go a long way." Azul looked down at the water again as the human moved to chuck her shoes into the small boat. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Azul."

"Like the color blue?"

"Huh?" The girl looked to the side and Azul's heart sped up, thinking he said something wrong. "I saw this book once that your name means blue. I was just wondering if that's the reason why you have that name. Your eyes are pretty blue, too."

"I can ask my parents later…"

Their brief meeting was cut short when a voice from afar yelled, the girl quickly getting onto the boat as it waddled in the water. "I'll wait for your answer tomorrow. Can I see you here again?" She asked, her wet face smiling down at him and he nodded. "Great! Bye, Azul!" With a snap of her fingers, the small anchor pulled up and the boat sped away with a torrent of water. The two of them waving goodbye as the distance between them grew and grew.

"Tomorrow…"

When he got back to the classroom, the teacher scolded him for being late and the usual pattern of torment began again but somehow the promise he made with the girl with the golden eyes made him push through. He didn't sleep easy that night, especially with the excitement he held in his heart. He couldn't wait for tomorrow. He couldn't wait to see her.

Their new meeting place was along the rocky cavern where she could sit and on her lap was a book propped up for him to see. Her finger pointed at a word. "See? Azul. It means blue in different languages." Azul leaned against the rocks' the push and pull of the water against his dark skin. "It's a possibility. I never really thought about it that way."

It was his turn to show her something, a shell with scribbles of writings. They figured early that books from underwater were not easy to bring on land so Azul immediately switched to the gathered shells he had. "I like to read grimoires sometimes and I put anything I find interesting into a shell. Any spell I like is in there."

Taking the shell from his palm, the girl took a look at it and reading its inscriptions. "This spell…"

Azul nodded his head. "It's a spell to change the color of something. It can be anything too."

"Can I try it out?"

"Can you do magic?"

"A little bit."

"Do it."

Taking a small rock into her hand, the girl looked to the shell to recite the color-changing spell. "Like a rainbow in your palm and voice ever calm, may the item you wish to change be yours to arrange." The rock began to glow, reflecting a myriad of colors like glass under the summer sun. Its shine subsided, the stone suddenly a deep blue. She held it up, staring into it. "Wow…"

"Pretty neat, huh?" Azul smiled up at her when she nodded. "This is super cool! What else do you know, I want to show this to my family later." It was shell after shell of small spells that almost lit up the cavern they stayed in and soon, the floor was littered with shining rocks and off-color stones. The girl sighed, trying to regain her breathing while Azul collected the shells to his chest. "You shouldn't use your magic all willy nilly, you might overblot."

"That's okay. I'm strong, I can't overblot!"

Azul's grimace and amusement weren't hidden and the two laughed with each other, their soft voices echoing through the empty cavern.

"Will I see you here again, Azul?"

There was a silence between them, a beat of hesitation, but Azul leaned against the soft rock with a smile. "If only you bring another book with you."

The next day, she was late to the meeting but Azul paid no mind to it. In her hands was a big book about mountains and their animals and on her knee was a scratch. "Are you okay?" he asked, pointing his nubby finger at her wound to which he just shook her head. "The kids I play with can be rowdy at times but I didn't want to play with them anymore after that." She set the book down and opened it.

He looked at her eyes, those pretty gold eyes of hers, and his shoulders hunched a small bit. He knows those eyes. When they droop and look at nothing when the brows are low and furrowed.

"Hold still."

With a careful hand and concentrated magic, Azul continued to look at her knee as he let magic flow from within him to her knee. The skin began to close and the pain had subsided, her eyes widened while his closed.

"Azul?"

He opened his eyes, a hand had stroked his drying hair. He pushed himself too much, it seems, and his friend took to letting him rest against the rocks. Her smile was soft and her eyes no longer looking like they were before, the eyes were warm and the brows relaxed. The wound on her knee was smaller now.

"Thanks." She told him, bringing her legs to her chest. "Here. I'll tell you about elephants."

He leaned in further, careful not to wet the book. "Huh, they're different from the ones we have in the sea."

"Sea elephants, right?"

"Yup. They're all blubbery and have really large noses. We don't usually see them around here but I heard they can get pretty mean." He looks down at the rock in thought. "But they are pretty big like land elephants." The girl closes the book with a huff. "I'll take your word for it. Now, show me what you've got."

Smiling, he set a few shells down.

"Here's the spell I saw today—."

Azul rested on the rocks, his hand tracing the markings on the shells he brought. The cavern was empty and silent, his mind whirling to the girl he was supposed to meet in that same spot. He turned the shell over and traced his finger on the grove patterns.

"Azul, sorry I'm late."

She came in, drenched in water. "What happened?" He asked suddenly and she just smiled at him, a smile he didn't exactly trust was telling the truth. "I just thought to take a shower on the way here, that's all." His eyes followed her as she sat down with a book on her lap. "Was it the kids again?"

Her shoulders slumped and her lips were pursed. "I…They get rowdy. I thought I could outrun them." She took a look at her drenched form with an awkward laugh. "But at least the book is safe. It's about plants this time." Azul continued to stare at them, blinking and nudging the shells forward. "You protected the book from them, didn't you?"

"I did." With a watery smile, she nodded her head and brows furrowed. "…I did."

She clutched the book closer to her chest and Azul reached over to pat her good knee. "Azul, you'll always be here, right? You're never going to stop being my friend, right?" Golden eyes mixed with clear glass, her voice sounded so desperate and broken that Azul couldn't help but feel the sadness drip from her lips. He squeezed her knee just a little bit.

"I will. I promise."

The next time they met, they were on the small boat they met in with Azul holding onto its bamboo fixtures. "What's life like in the sea?" She asked suddenly, her feet paddling against the water. "It's mostly wet and there's a lot of fish around…" Azul began, his eyes downcast at the water below. "School is like a record and people can be mean sometimes, you have to look out for sharks of giant squids, and the currents are sometimes a butt to deal with."

Her golden eyes flickered for a moment and she chuckled, eyes closed, smile light, and brows furrowed. "Not much different from life on land, huh? But having pretty fins or tentacles seems fun too." She looks to Azul and for a second she hesitates.

"Can you turn me into one?"

He is silent for a moment, surprised and confused why someone on land would want that. "Um…" He stuttered, his face flushed and eyes downcast. "I don't think…My magic can do that, yet." Her golden eyes remained warm and she shook her head. "I'm just kidding."

Yet Azul had a feeling she wasn't.

"Is it because of the kids?" He asked curiously but she stayed silent, opting not to answer and instead asked a question in return.

"You'll always be my friend, right?"

He nodded his head without a second thought but was confused why she would think to ask that.

"I…I will. Of course, I will."

She rubbed her knee, feeling for the closed wound and sniffling after being exposed to the cold water of yesterday.

He waited in the cavern the entire day, waiting for her to show up. His shells were prepared but with no one to look at them. He should have known this would happen, he should have known it was too good to be true. He sulked against the smooth rock and felt the washed brush and leave his back. She never came.

Had he done something wrong? She would have told him.

Perhaps she got bored of him…The spells he showed were the most basic as they come, it wasn't enough. Azul pulled away from the rocks and looked deeper into the empty cavern. Something cold froze his insides yet licked his body like fire, he felt his eyes sting.

He should have known better.

He left the shells on the edge and went back to sea, never looking back from the place he once held hope in. He forced himself not to cry. He forced himself not to feel sad and only let his feels show when he found himself in his special spot.

He covered his face, remembering their chance meeting, her red sandal, and golden eyes. He remembered her smile, the promise they made. Azul shook his head, telling himself to forget. Forget. FORGET!

Suddenly, a piece of seaweed hit his head and the voice of two boys whispered above him. "I told you that wasn't a trashcan, Floyd." One chided. "What, I'm just gonna throw wherever this and get in trouble? C'mon Jade." He swats the piece of seaweed out of the pot and popped his head out. "Do you mind?"

"Ack!"

Two eels floated before him and one's eyes were wide in surprise and the other the mix of amusement and a face that just oozes of 'I-told-you-so' energy.

"I'm not a trash can, I'm your classmate."

"Huh? Oh wait, you're the one we have science class with." The culprit said, pointing a sharp finger at him. "What's your name again?"

"Azul. Azul Ashengrotto."

"Okay, Octie."

"It's Azul!"

His life turned around when he met the twins, the power that he grew was immense. While Azul was not good at sports as much as the twins; he excelled in books, in his studies, in business. His power allowed him to grant favors, to hold power over those once thought to be strong. For once in his life, no one thought to ever look at him as the stupid, lonely octopus he was once was nor did anyone think to lay a hand on him.

And things were fine that way.

But more often than not, he would catch himself thinking about the girl he once became friends with and wondering what she was doing or if that wound on her knee was doing okay. Even after the sudden departure, their brief friendship never left his mind nor did the memories lose their sweetness. His feelings were a mix of resentment, curiosity, or sadness, and even guilt.

He would look up from the seafloor to the shining surface above and wonder if she would be there waiting.

"Azul, there's someone who wants to see you." Says Jade.

But the business was always his priority. He turned away from the surface but his heart never could. "Coming." He swam away but his feelings stayed in one place, yearning and hating for the day he'll come to see her.

Though time heals wounds, the bitter sting of remembrance was something he disliked immensely. Azul's trips to the sea were less frequent and when he did, it was usually to visit his family and help around. With school done for the year and the family business running smoothly, there wasn't much he could do now but bide away his time.

He swam through the open ocean, his legs propelling him around the deep blue. He would resurface no long after to look at the sun and the water around him, his eyes adjusting to the sudden appearance of light after he had been in the dark blue depths long. It was noon, a time when fishermen slept and left the waters quiet.

He swam in a certain direction, to a place he once knew. A cavern-like entrance where he pulled himself up and bare feet touching the ground. For the short time he had spent there, he had memorized every crevice and detail.

"It's like it never changed."

He walked further in and looked in the deepest nook, he saw a tinge of color. Old shells packed into a neat pile, his old shells that he gave away to his friend. Looking back on it, he realized the two of them went through the same thing and wishing the same wishes. She was just more vocal about them.

He picked one up from the pile, it was the spell that allowed an object to change its color.

"Ah, this one takes me back."

Even how short their friendship was, he had fun just talking to her. While it was sad he never got to see her again after that day, he enjoyed it while it lasted. He returned the shell to its pile and moved to turn around, a figure stopped blocked his path.

Red sandals, eyes like melting gold, hair stringy from seawater, and a spear with two fish held to their side.

"Azul?" Her voice was just as he remembered.

The moment was short and Azul's breathing stopped for only a few seconds. A warmth passed through him, a wave of nostalgia. "You're back." He said, his shoulders bobbing through his airy laughs "I waited for a long time, y'know? Now look at us, we're bigger now." She discarded her spear to the ground and ran towards him, one of her sandals leaving her food as he hugged him.

No words were said between them, their arms looping around each other in an embrace both seemed to be ready and yearning for. Her nose buried into his shoulder and his hands in her wet hair. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "I'm so sorry I left. I just couldn't—I had to leave. I wanted to go to you but—! She sputtered into your skin. "I had no time left to say goodbye. I'm sorry."

"I made a promise, didn't I?" He said, pulling away from her.

Their foreheads connected, ah, how long had it been since he felt so vulnerable? There were so many things he wanted to say and he knew she also felt the same. Perhaps another time the two of them could put two and two together.

"I'll always be here."

#works from the typewriter #twisted wonderland #twst #Azul Ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #Female reader

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basicjetsetter · 3 years

Text

Part IV

♡ Pairing: Peter Parker x Black!FemaleReader

▹ Warnings: Little angst, Lot of anxiety, Fluff if you squint

▹ Words: 2.8k

▹ A/N: This chapter’s a bit on the short side, but it establishes a lot. Happy reading!

You’re not exactly sure how you pull it off, but you somehow manage to elude Peter for five straight days.

Playing the impromptu game of hide-and-not-be-seen was touch and go for the first two days, mainly because you weren’t sure what time you’d see Peter in the diner’s entrance. All you knew was that he’d show up early, whatever that meant. Almost every chiming bell sent your heart into overdrive, and whenever you thought you saw him, your stomach performed painful somersaults as you mapped out all likely escape routes.

No place in the diner was safe. Hal’s has a pretty simple layout: front entrance, booths to the immediate right, and bar with barstools to the immediate left, all in a shotgun fashion. If one were to try looking for someone, especially from the front entrance, all they’d have to do is marginally widen their field of vision, which is why the first two days were tricky.

The next day after the first run-in, about three hours earlier than his initial arrival, Peter came in through the front door, buddying up with Chris and asking for you.

You were clearing off an unoccupied table, piling dirty plates, when Chris called out, “Hey! How’s it hanging, Peter?” With the stack of dishes still clenched in your hands, you dropped down and crawled under the booth, coming face to face with an unsavory assortment of chewed-up gum underneath the table, holding your breath for dear life. Peter stayed for about ten agonizingly treacherous minutes as Chris failed to locate you.

On the second day, a sluggish Tuesday morning with only four regular patrons at the bar and no one in the booths, Peter had just walked through the entrance as you were coming out of the back, hand-carrying three of Hal’s famous Thin Mint Milkshakes. Without a thought, you spun right around and dashed in the opposite direction, busting through the employee door and colliding straight into Wendy. You’d never seen someone throw such a fit, but then again, you’d be pretty pissed too if someone coated you head-to-toe in milkshake.

That day was… eventful, to say the least, but it gifted you with the best estimate for Peter’s arrivals. Early meant 11:30 a.m. on the dot. Lunch. You tested out the time the next day, waiting behind the employee door and peering out the medium-sized port window. At 11:30 a.m., right on cue, was Peter, dapping Chris and ordering a slice of Banana Cream Pie to-go while also asking for your whereabouts, staying for only half an hour.

He left you a note each time he departed.

Can’t seem to catch you. I’ll try again tomorrow :) – Peter

Is this not a good time for you? I’ll stop by later if you want – Peter

Is everything alright? Text or call anytime you need me. I’ll be there – Peter

From the second note on, you found yourself captivated by his neat little scrawl and the way he always signed his name at the end, as if you’d forget it was him. You’d read them on your way home and right before falling asleep, trying and failing not to picture him smiling at you while you absent-mindedly smiled at his words.

Your friendly boy-next-door is so easy to fall for, but you just can’t do it. You can’t allow yourself to fall. Nobody would be there to pick you back up.

Some nights, you lied awake drafting a message that would effectively convince Peter that things wouldn’t work between you, that you’re a lost cause, and he should probably find some other connection if such a thing exists. But then, unfailingly, you’d think about his concerned little notes and sadly acknowledge that he deserves more than a measly text. After showing up to Hal’s for almost a whole week just to get to know you, Peter deserves the truth.

Your heart is not ready for a Soulmate, and it might not ever be.

By the fifth day, you spend a good chunk of time pondering over the right words to say to Peter while simultaneously hiding in the kitchen, pretending to prepare more fries. You never looked forward to hiding from him, but what other option did you have? Going out there and letting your coworkers and boss know he’s your Soulmate? They wouldn’t shut up about it, especially not Chris, the open romantic.

When your shift ended that day, and you walked up to Chris so he could hand you Peter’s fifth note, he emphatically shook his head.

“On behalf of my new friend, Peter, I can’t in good faith give this to you,” he stated, tucking the folded paper into his back pocket and crossing his arms. “Not until you tell me why you’re dodging him.”

You frowned, crossing your arms too. “It’s really none of your business, Chris.”

“True, but it’s his.” The little dig got to you, making you wince. Chris continued softly, “Look, he won’t tell me what’s up with you two, either. And, trust me, I've asked. It's just... I’m kinda involved now, being the messenger and all, so shouldn’t I know some of the situation?”

“No…?” you hedged.

Chris didn’t budge.

You couldn’t think of a lie on the spot, and a half-truth would only further complicate things. Treading the fine line of what’s too much information and what’s not enough left you frustratingly tongue-tied. What’s specific enough to still be vague? Chris stared at you expectantly with a petulant little lift in his brow, ignoring a customer’s disgruntled calls for a refill in the napkin dispenser.

In the end, you huffed out a resigned breath and hesitantly admitted, “Peter's someone I knew from high school—a really nice guy.” For Chris’s benefit, you added, “He just likes to check up on me every now and then. You know how I don’t get out that much…”

And in a heartbeat, Chris morphed from a tough enquirer to a softened pile of dough, sagely nodding his head as if he knew all too well how reserved you are and how much of a losing battle it is persuading you to venture out. Or maybe it was because he understood how difficult it is to reconnect with people you unwilfully lost touch with for five years.

How everything and everyone fell right back into step with everyday life, like five years was just five minutes, continues to boggle your mind. It’s not normal. You won’t ever pretend that it is.

The disgruntled man shouted, “Can I get any damn service around here?”

Chris immediately broke from the conversation and left you behind the bar, off to go charm the customer’s socks off and earn a nice $10 tip even though he clocked out ten minutes ago.

You went on your way home, the ever-present anxiety of confronting Peter growing by the second.

Hours later, dressed down to your pajamas and reading his words over again, you’re still thinking about it, dread now gnawing on your insides.

You couldn’t even enjoy your newfound peace of mind. Ever since the voice stopped, Peter twined into all of your thoughts: his notes, his visits, his smile, your connection to him. There had to be a reason why destiny paired you. Besides being your Soulmate, what is he to you? What are you to him?

Unrest barred you from sleep for most of the night, and when you woke up the next morning, showered and ready to tackle another day, it hit you.

It’s Saturday—your day off this week—and you’re not scheduled to go back to work until Monday.

You could put off telling him… but what would be the point? It’d only prolong the inevitable. You needed to come clean today.

Picking up your phone, you steadily tap in his memorized cell number, then type:

-Hey Peter, it’s Y/N. Can you come by my place? We need to talk.

Three minutes later, he texts back.

-On my way.

✦ ✧✦ ✧

A nice, early summer breeze billows around you, doing its best to calm down your erratic nerves as you wait for Peter on the roof.

Are you doing the right thing?

Will Peter be okay with this?

What if he isn’t?

You jump out of your skin at the muffled Thwip and sudden appearance of Peter standing a few feet away.

His chestnut hair is windswept, and he’s wearing regular clothes, a faded blue Midtown High hoodie and denim jeans. You weren’t sure why you expected him to come dressed in his suit. It could be because you heard the sound of his web-slinger first and immediately thought of Spider-Man, but it’s more likely that your brain hasn’t connected that they are one and the same. You don’t see Spider-Man when you see him. All you see is Peter.

He’s tense, not moving an inch closer and keeping his shoulders pinched up like he’s on the defense. You can’t guess why he would be.

Gulping down a hard lump lodged in your throat, you stutter, “H-hi.”

He gives you a polite smile that doesn’t reach his sullen eyes. “Hey”

You both begin at the same time.

“Peter, I—”

“Look, Y/N—”

Ice floods your stomach, freezing your veins and squeezing your pounding heart. He has something to say to you? About what? You subtly jerk your head up, signaling for him to speak first.

Peter clears his throat, looks down at his shoes, then back up at you. “I know you’ve been hiding from me.”

“You do?” you squeak, eyes wide.

“Yeah, and it’s okay.”

Your voice hikes an octave. “It is?”

He nods. “Yeah. It’s fine. I get it.” He stops to scratch the back of his neck and dejectedly rambles on, “I’m not the safest person to be around, and it’s all super weird and a lot to take in. Like, a lot. My Aunt May freaked out too when she found out. Anyway, I… I get it if you don’t, y’know, don’t want me.”

“Wait, hold on,” you interrupt, trying to wrap your head around what he said. “You think… you think I don’t want you because you’re Spider-Man?”

“Well, yeah.” He says it like there couldn’t be any other possible reason.

You lower your gaze to the ground, unable to meet his curious gaze. “No, Peter, that’s not it.” Tears prick your eyes, but you fight like hell to keep them from falling. Steeling yourself, you quietly confess, “It’s me. I can’t be your Soulmate because…” A rebellious tear rolls down your cheek. “Because I’m not ready.”

As soon as you spoke the truth out loud, laying yourself and your broken soul bare, you dimly sense the previously severed string quiver deep down inside your chest. It’s the first time you felt it in five years, and it’s not how you remember it. It’s not severed, but it’s not whole either. Its presence only reminds you of what you can’t have, what you aren’t ready for.

In the ensuing quiet, you swipe the tear off your cheek and look at everything except Peter. Yellow tulips are blooming on someone’s balcony in the neighboring apartment building. A handful of fluffy clouds float in the piercing blue sky. An orange tabby cat is sun-bathing in a window.

It’s such a beautiful day. Yet, here you are, struggling not to cry on a roof.

Peter breaks through the silence, murmuring, “To be honest, I’m not ready either.”

“Really?” You ask, a little too hopeful, bringing your eyes back to his. They look so weary yet resolute.

“Yeah. I was actually freaking out that night we met.” He timidly grins, and your heart flips. “I didn’t know what to say, then I screwed up and forgot to ask if you were okay after I had literally just saved you from falling. Not really a glowing first impression.”

Astonishing yourself, you laugh. You couldn’t help it. There was absolutely nothing remotely hilarious about that night, but the way Peter described it, as if it were a blunder solely on his part, was so ridiculous that it was funny. Peter joins in, too, his laugh coming out airy and wondrously addictive. That smile you couldn’t stop thinking about for a whole week brightens his face.

When the laughs fade, Peter soberly says, “Even if we aren’t ready, maybe we can try being friends, just to see where things go? I mean, we were meant to be together for a reason, right? This could be it.”

You unconsciously nibble on your lower lip, considering his proposal. It hadn’t occurred to you that he might want to be friends. Would you want to do that? These days, you aren’t really open to platonic relationships, and Soulmate or not, being in a friendship would require some sort of connection. You don’t like those much.

Be that as it may, Peter seems like the type to respect your many boundaries, and that’s exactly what you would prefer in a friend at the moment. Someone who doesn’t pry. Someone who doesn’t uphold generic expectations. You could go for a diner talk every once in a while.

Besides, it’s just a little friendship. Most are surface level, and some don’t even last a year. What’s the worst that could happen?

You sincerely smile at Peter, wondering about the last time your smiles were sincere, and say, “Okay. Let’s be friends.”

His face radiates joy. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, I think we can do that. But I have a few terms.”

Peter eagerly nods, waiting.

You try not to focus on how his happiness thrills you. “One, don’t tell anyone we’re Soulmates. I don’t really want any of my coworkers to know.”

His smile drops into a sheepish wince. “I kinda already told Ned. But he won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

“That’s okay. It’s mostly my coworkers I’m worried about,” you reassure. You weren’t going to berate him for telling his best friend. If things were different, you’d have done the same. “Two, don’t ask me to hang out with your other friends. I don’t do big friend circles.”

“Got it,” he militantly nods again. “It’s mostly just Ned and me anyway.”

“And three,” your grin broadens. “If Chris asks you what’s going on between us, be super vague.”

“Done.” He smirks back at you, then extends his hand. “Friends?”

When your hand touches his, and you shake on it, the warmth of his palm thaws out all your remaining anxiety. “Friends.”

✦ ✧✦ ✧

When Monday rolls around, a tiny ball of doubt weighs you down.

It’s not that you were afraid of talking to Peter. You were actually looking forward to getting to know him now that you officially became friends. It’s the future you’re stuck on. What happens if you get too attached to this friendship and want more? What if friendship is all he wants? What if it’s the other way around?

If you were honest with yourself, you’d know which way the gage is leaning, and it’s not in your favor.

You’re cleaning off the bar top when Peter comes in, doing his usual greeting with Chris before settling down on a barstool in front of you. He’s a little high strung, leaning his chin on his hand, then thinking against it, only to do it again. It was oddly comforting to know that he was overthinking too.

The corners of your lips tug up in a soft smile. “Hi, Peter.”

Your face warms as he smiles back. “Hey, Y/N.”

Chris barges in, leaning his elbows on the bar top and gaping incredulously at you and Peter. “Woah, woah, woah! Did I miss something? Since when are you two speaking in public?”

Peter checks his watch. “About thirty-seven seconds ago.”

“Oh, come on, dude. At least tell me what happened.”

You and Peter share a knowing look like two conniving co-conspirators sharing an inside joke, and you giggle as Chris huffs in annoyance. He glumly storms off when you two stay hushed, muttering, “Fine, next time you need a middle-man, count me out.”

“Does he hold grudges?” Peter asks after Chris walks out of earshot.

You’re still shaking with giggles. “Not at all. He’ll be back to his happy self in less than an hour.”

Peter only stays at Hal’s for twenty-five minutes, but they were the funniest and most intriguing twenty-five minutes you ever worked.

The conversation began slowly at first, but each question loosened the formalities. Peter asked about easy things: when did you get into art, when did you start working at Hal’s, and when was your birthday, all while digging into his slice of pie. He caught on fast enough to know the topic of parents was off-limits, and he thankfully chose to stay away from any talk of the blip.

When you asked him questions, he was open and responsive, jumping at the chance to talk about his passion for bio-sciences and Star Wars, sometimes covertly mentioning some of the duties he has a Spider-Man. Not a minute was wasted. You talked while serving customers and cleaning tables, keeping up the joke of staying quiet when Chris tried to meddle.

It all turned out smoother than you expected. Almost too smooth, and you’re not sure if that’s good or bad.

You are sure about one thing, though. You like having Peter as a friend.

...

Part V

#peter parker #peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x reader #spider-man x black!reader #spider-man x reader #soulmate au #post endgame #pre far from home #peter parker soulmate au #peter parker angst #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #marvel fanfic #black!reader #slow burn #how to trust a heart #peter parker fluff

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youmustbestrongernow · 3 years

Note

You talking so beautifully about davenzi yesterday made me think about something.

Do you think canon Matteo and David will marry? And if yes when? And who would propose?

Oh I have so many thoughts on this. Firstly I'm not one hundred percent sure they would marry, they'd stay together forever sure, but marry I’m not sure. That might be my own thoughts on marriage though. But if they did it would be a happy one. I think Matteo would be scared of marriage, seeing the toxicity of his parents' marriage and that combined with his own mental health struggles would be a reason he wouldn't want to, in order not to tie or trap David with him. But he'd want to marry him, I honestly think that's what he wants, the simple family life, to have David as his husband and to be happy, to promise himself to him forever.

David I think wouldn't want to get married, nothing to do with Matteo, I imagine it's just not something he'd thought of, he was ready to run at the drop of a hat, that's not so easy when you're tied and settled down, marriage feels like something restrictive, something that would trap him. Also it's not so straightforward for him, all the paperwork and shit he would probably have to go through, to be recognised as Matteo's husband is probably pretty off putting too. But this is when they’re young and everything is easy, and boyfriend is enough.

So a few years down the line when Matteo is more settled and doing good, he kinda knows deep down that David really isn't going anywhere. After seeing him at his worst and staying time and time again, telling him he's staying for the good times and every day with him is good no matter how difficult, Matteo has to believe him because if there’s one person he trusts explicitly in this world it's David. So he starts to think, just quiet thoughts in those many moments where he's just sitting with David, not talking not even paying attention to him, but just needing to be near, he thinks maybe this really is forever, and boyfriend isn't enough anymore, it's not enough to tell David he loves him and he’s his future. He wants it on paper, he wants to stand up in front of all their family and friends and declare it to the world. Him, Matteo Florenzi who hates making a speech wants to tell the world he loves this man as his husband. He keeps it in though, doesn't dare voice these feelings.

At the same time David no longer has that restless energy, that desire to run, he's travelled the world, both apart from Matteo and with him by his side, he's seen so much, he's settled that feeling somewhat. There's plenty more to see and their whole lives to see it. But he wants a different kind of adventure. The kind of adventure that both terrifies and thrills him all at once. And isn’t that the best kind? It won't be easy, he has extra hoops to jump through and he's under no illusion that marriage isn't all fairy tales and happy endings, but neither is their relationship so far. They've had some damn hard times, but they've always come through stronger and always together. So yes, he wants to make Matteo his husband. He wants to be tied, not tied down but tied to this man, this wonderful man who taught him how to stay. He wants to show him this is forever, that he's staying.

David always was a little braver about this stuff, so he tries to bring it up causally, see where Matteo's at. But at this point Matteo's been holding onto this intense desire for a while now, so when David says, "what are you thinking about the future?" Matteo just says, "I want to marry you," so simply, it's just the truth after all. And David says ok. And that's it. They know they're on the same page, just like always. They don't leave it there. They talk about it, for months. Both of them talking about why they want it, what's changed for them, why they were so afraid. They talk about reasons not to, but can't think of anything good.

So a few months after Matteo's little confession, David goes out and buys a ring. He tells mama Florenzi his plans, and they cry but it's happy. He thinks of taking Matteo for dinner, but he knows Matteo wouldn't like that, being on show. So he gets mama Florenzi to teach him to cook (he can cook goddammit!), something a little fancier. He gets Jonas to keep Matteo out of the house all day, because the risk of it going wrong is huge and he has both Laura and mama on standby in case it’s a disaster. And sure the salad doesn’t look nearly as neat as it had done at mama's house. And the chicken is a tiny bit browner, but not burnt.

Matteo doesn't complain, doesn’t tease and David thinks he might just know what's happening, and when he declines a second glass of wine David does the same, he doesn't want to be drunk, he doesn't want to be even slightly tipsy for this.

So they eat and they talk just like they always do. And Matteo waits and waits, but David doesn't say anything, he's stupidly nervous for some reason. So Matteo just laughs and gets up to do the dishes and it's just what they always do, but in reverse. And usually Matteo's right beside him, sometimes helping, sometimes hindering him. So he watches him so fondly, and thinks to himself that he always wants to do the dishes with Matteo, and that's what pushes him, and he grabs the ring from his pocket and gets down on one knee. And before he can even say anything, Matteo (who's been in tune with David for years) turns around and whispers yes.

And yeah that came out of fucking nowhere, but I see it and now i can’t unsee it. Yeah I have no idea how it would happen in canon, but something like this is how I picture it.

God anon all I wanted to say was that it would be a more sedate/causal type of proposal, very them, and you get this instead and now I’m overly emotional while trying to work. I hope you’re happy. I started this damn answer saying I wasn't sure they would get married, and look where it went!

#i don't even know what this is #or where it came from #it's practically a tiny fic #but god i can picture their future #so easily #nothing specific #just those easy days #that seem mundane #but are actually everything to them #safety and home and security #the easy happy life they deserve #druck asks #Anonymous #davenzi

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fallout-drabbles-n-stuff · 4 years

Note

Oh my god your blog is fantastic and has brought me so much joy the past week just reading through everything. ❤️ If you have the time/would like, how do you think some of the characters would react if they accidentally encountered a SoSu who moonlighted as a dancer in Goodneighbor? (Bonus if Maxson’s in there and has to keep his cool around them next time they’re on the Prydwen).

(I'll do this one similar to how I handled another react by writing a short drabble then the react. Thank you so much by the way, I’m happy that my stuff has brought you joy 💖)

What had even brought them to the Third rail was beyond them. Sure, the music was probably the best the wasteland had to offer- lord knows one could only listen to the repetitious tracks Travis played on the radio. The atmosphere was well, okay and the drinks were..eh, even more so okay. Whatever the reason they found theirselves at that place, they soon would be in for a surprise.

Right as the snarky Mister Handy served them their drink, Magnolia announced that she'd be sharing her spotlight with a newcomer. Naturally, all of the patrons, including themselves, would be intrigued and pay attention to that nameless someone.

That was when you showed up.

You, in far too fancy apparel and an unfamiliar lustrous aura about you. A sultry look on your face as you addressed the now rowdy audience, only momentarily pausing when you met your friend's gaze, to which you promptly gave a wink to before shedding your coat and begin to dance with magnolia's music in such a way that rendered onlookers "hot under the collar".

Cait:

“Well ‘ello there, hot stuff..”

The moment Cait saw you flash that little wink her way, she couldn’t help but stare in wonder. So she’ll stay and drink whatever piss Charlie will serve her, just so long as it means she gets to keep watching you swing those hips of your’s. You best better believe if she gets drunk enough, she’s going to try to find a way to get you in bed with her later on.

Curie:

“Oh Madame/Monsieur, you look stunning! Best of luck.”

She’d be so excited for you! Watching you move like that, oh, you looked so happy! Everyone else seemed to enjoy it too, so why couldn’t she? Plus, it was nice seeing something so oddly “pre-war” style. After all, she knows you didn’t get your moves from the raider that tried to shoot at you earlier.

Danse:

“Your show was quite enjoyable, soldier. Uh..keep it up.”

The Paladin would once again be faced with a hard decision to make, ergo yet another internal argument. On one hand, he knew that watching you would put less than professional images in his head and fudge up some future mission...but on the other hand....you were friends anyways right? Right. Friends stay and support each other. Besides, it wasn’t exactly like he didn’t love what he saw.

Deacon:

“No wonder you’re always so limber in fights..ha, just kidding, great job! You killed it.”

Nothing surprises him at this point. I mean, he kinda, sorta knew anyhow. He did begin casing you weeks before you found the railroad. He still likes the show enough o stay and watch, giving you a high five when you come back down from the small stage.

Gage:

“At least you’ve got a hobby....heh.”

At first he thought it was silly as could be. You? Overboss? Dancing? What the hell gotten into you? Been eating the feverblossoms again?

No matter what judgments he might’ve made, they all dissolved into nothingness when he began to actually pay attention to you. His gaze almost unbreakable.

He um..he enjoyed that very much.

Hancock:

“See? Told you this was a good idea! So, can we plan to have you back same time next week?”

He’s the one that suggested the whole gig to you in the first place. Seeing you actually go for it? Oooh, he was excited! You bet your ass he stayed right in his seat, only leaving to get you drink for after your show so he can congratulate you.

Macready:

“Wow, That was flipping awesome. You didn’t even look like you broke a sweat!”

He thinks it’s super cool. How did he never notice you before? Eh, didn’t matter, he does now! He may even find himself blushing just a little when you would give him the look every once in a while through your routine. When asked about it, he’ll make some bullshit excuse that he’s cold or something but in all reality, he just can’t get over how you move.

Maxson:

“So, it would seem you are quite creative with how you chose to spend your off time.”

And....he regrets even leaving the Prydwen. Not enough to leave though, oh no, no matter what ranking you are or what place you hold in his heart, he can’t help but be entranced by you. That being said, when you report in for duty the next morning- there will be an obvious blush on his bearded face as he assigns you new missions. He cannot keep his cool to save his life.

Nick:

“You did excellent out there, kiddo.”

So long as you don’t do anything too risqué, he rather enjoys it! As a matter of fact, he thinks it’s wonderful. The bright costume you put together and the even brighter smile on your face warmed his mechanical heart. You really seemed like you enjoyed what you were doing, and that’s what counts. Now, considering he is a damn good detective and didn’t see this coming is what becomes worrisome for the old synth.

Old Longfellow:

“One hell of a show you put on back there, cap’n. Here, drinks on me this time.”

Dancer? Why didn’t you say something sooner? He thinks it’s pretty neat. While he likes to hunt and so on, there isn’t much more he discovers he likes than the prospect of having a nice stiff drink while he watches you perform. Of course, having a drink ready for you as well.

Piper:

“Oh wow blue, you never stop impressing do you? Now, smile!”

Normally she wasn’t too big of a fan for lingering in bars, but this time she’d certainly make an exception. With your permission, she’ll even take a couple of pictures of you all dolled up for her paper- which ends up bringing you a nice sum of caps. As for her reaction to it, well..she was a blushing mess with a big grin. She’d stay for the entirety of your show, playfully wolf whistling your way when you sauntered on over to her.

Preston:

“You keep doing you, General.”

He’s just happy you were able to find something to get your mind off being the General every once in a while. It may not be a purely innocent gig but who was he to judge? Besides, it clearly brought happiness to people...including himself.

Sturges:

“Think you could go dance like that back at Sanctuary?”

It wasn’t very often that he made a trip to Goodneighbor, but oh boy was he happy he did. Seeing you up on that stage made him feel dizzy, but in the best of ways. He knew you were talented, but this? Wow.

X6-88:

“Why don’t you use such talents to help us get an upper hand in combat? Surely your agility isn’t strictly reserved for dance moves.”

It’s probably no surprise that X6 doesn’t quite get what you’re doing. That’s not to say he doesn’t enjoy the show though, because he does, even if he doesn’t realize it. That still doesn’t stop him from thinking about ways to incorporate your dance moves into combat strategies.

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suchalonelysunflower · 4 years

Text

“I know”

(Ashton Irwin X Fem!Reader || Angst/Fluff)

Summary: FINAL PART OF THE KNOW YOU SERIES. When everything feels lost, there’s nothing like the rain

Warnings: Strong Language, mentions of: alcohol, abuse, anxiety, depression, toxic relationships. Ansgty and Fluffy. Bad English (not my first language, sorry)

Word Count: 5.2 K

A/N: ITS HERE the last part of my first Ashton series 🥺 I had fun writing this, it helped me a lot. I hope you like it just as much! Reblogs are always appreciate it as well as feedback, I would love to hear your opinions 💙 You can check my other works HERE. Thank you so much 🦋

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Sierra hasn’t heard from you in almost a week. You’re not answering any of her text or attempts to FaceTime and she’s getting really worried. She knows you’re deeply hurting if you went completely MIA.

Last time she saw you, you were running down the stairs at Ashton’s house, trying to pass the sea of people between you and the door. She remembers calling out your name, and she knows you’ve heard her, since you stopped for a second to look in her direction before turning your face away and walking out the door without saying anything.

But she already saw the tears on your face.

Sierra turned to her boyfriend, to confirm that he saw it too, but Luke’s confused gaze was already on her, asking the silent question: ’What the hell happened?’

Luke’s eyes followed the trail you had just walked, but Sierra’s hand was already in his, pulling him so he followed her upstairs.

“Maybe she was just overwhelmed and needed some space” suggested Luke when they reached the top of the stairs and started walking the hall.

“Probably, but Luke, I know her. She wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye and she looked really upset” Sierra’s voice was filled with concern“Something happened and…”

Suddenly, they came to a stop when they heard a light sob. It was almost inaudible due to the poundering thunders that came from the sky, but it was there. Luke and Sierra hurried down to the balcony, not knowing what to expect but at the same time not expecting the sight in front of them.

Ashton was sitting on the floor with his back pressed to the same wall that had you pressed to him just a few minutes ago, when everything just felt right.

His hair was a mess and his ringed hand covered his eyes as he cried, his shoulders shaking with every sob that came out of his lips. For the first time in a long, long time, the boy who smiled like sunshine was falling apart like the rain.

Sierra’s first instinct was to go over the broken man and kneel down next to him, putting her delicate hand in his shoulder. Her heart breaking as he lifted his gaze, just enough for her to see how much he’s hurting.

“Ash?”

“I fucked up” He said in a broken voice “Sierra, I fucked up so bad”

That was on Saturday. Today’s Thursday and you still haven’t picked up your phone. Ignoring, not just her, but everyone. Crystal has tried to reach you countless of times, Michael has been hitting your DM’s from every social media (including in the games you played together) Calum and Luke have been spamming you with texts and even tried to lure you in with pictures of Duke and Petunia. And Ashton… well. Ashton was a complete mess, his smile was none existing since that night and, if it weren’t for the fact that they were already working on a new album, he wouldn’t even be seen. “He barely talks to anyone” Luke said to her “He’s just… numb. I haven’t seen him like this in years, he looks just like me before I met you, maybe even worse”

Sierra tried to call you one more time before hearing the familiar voicemail tone. You were shutting down, and she was scared that the silence meant something else.

Determined, she picked up her phone one more time, but she dialed a different number “Hey” she said, as soon as the other person picked up “Y/N needs our help and I’m not going to wait any longer”

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

You opened your eyes as the sun warmed your face. You groaned as you got up to close the curtains, ready to submerge yourself under the covers again. But the sound of your growling stomach kinda forced your way into the kitchen.

Taking in the sight of your apartment, you let out a sad sigh. It was just as messy as you felt. Take out containers (most of them still full) and dirty dishes decorated your kitchen island, your once neat living room had scattered papers all over it, many of them being plain trash that you couldn’t care to throw properly in the bin. You saw the bottle of vodka sitting in the middle of the table and it made you nauseous. This isn’t right. After everything that has happened you thought you finally got a break, that everything was going to be fine. But life has never been easy on you.

As you poured yourself a cup of coffee, you couldn’t help but stare at the bay window. You couldn’t help but think of him, the way he smiled and the sound of his thousand laughs. How he always cheered you up with a good morning text and how he could spend hours telling you stories about his childhood, in an attempt to distract you from reality. How he was always up for anything you needed, weather it be just listening to you or just needing his company, always making sure you were alright, and you were, with him everything was alright. Then your thoughts wandered over that night. The way he held you, the way he kissed you.. the way he rejected you.

You didn’t realize you were crying until a tear dropped in the middle of your coffee cup. You haven’t stopped crying since that night. Feeling useless and scared, but most of all, hopeless you would ever find that sense of security and happiness you felt next to him.

It’s impossible to deny how deeply in love you were with Ashton. You tried to hide it, but you were only lying to yourself. You love him and he probably hates you, again. Once again, you felt like you’ve ruined everything. When your lips touched his you felt like you were in cloud 9, everything was coming together, but seeing his face full of regret after that…

Maybe he was just too drunk, maybe you weren’t what he expected, maybe you should’ve stopped him, maybe he wanted to stop. It was wrong, a ‘mistake’ as he called it. But it felt so right at the moment that you didn’t want it to stop, and maybe that was selfish, but you could’ve died in that kiss and you would’ve died happy, instead of living the pain and the hurt of his disgust and rejection when he pulled away.

He probably told everyone how you fucked up. Everyone must hate you. In one night you lost everything you ever dreamed to have, and it was your fault. You turned off your phone that night, emailed your boss the morning after, claiming to be sick, but in reality you were just too scared to face the daylight of a world where you had nothing again. Maybe your mother was right and you didn’t deserve happiness after all.

Finishing your coffee, you tossed the mug in the filthy sink and headed to bed. That’s when you heard the knocking at your door and your breathing stopped.

You tried to ignore it, but whoever was at the other side was persistent. Against your better judgement, and hoping it was just a neighbor, you opened the door.

Outside the door you saw Sierra, Crystal and KayKay…oh shit. Your thoughts were running a thousand miles per hour, thinking that they were there to give you shit for what you did.

Sierra’s eyes winded when she took a sight of you and, without wasting any second, she launched herself towards you and held you in a tight hug.

“You weren’t answering your phone” she said “we were all so worried about you! We were so scared that you would just disappear and…”

An overwhelming feeling came over you as the tears spilled down your cheeks. It was all too much. Sierra kept talking, but you couldn’t listen. The others made their way into the apartment, careful to not overstep your boundaries, you noticed they had some bags filled with groceries and your heart shrunked. They weren’t there to hate you, they… they came for you, because they care about you. And you were standing there, numb in the same pajamas from five days ago, with countless bags under your eyes and a messy knotted hair. You didn’t deserve this.

“Oh, baby” Sierra cooed as she felt you breaking down in tears in her arms “We are here for you, we will always be here for you, Y/N. We love you, it’s okay”

“No, it’s not okay” you said between sobs “I fucked up. I fucked up, it’s not okay. I’m so sorry”

You kept apologizing, it seemed like you were unable to form another sentence that wasn’t ‘I’m sorry’ but the girls were having none of it “Y/N, listen to me. You did nothing wrong. You hear me? Nothing. Stop apologizing, you don’t have to, you don’t need to. Look at me” Sierra pulled away from you and grabbed you by the shoulders, forcing you to look at her and the others “You. Did. Nothing. Wrong”

Her stare was honest, stern and serious. You felt like breaking down again, but KayKay stepped in

“Why don’t we go talk in the living room? Crys and I will put the groceries in the kitchen, I’m assuming you didn’t go shopping this week, Y/N?” you shook your head, she nodded and gave you a sympathetic smile “It’s okay, dear. We got you covered”

“Y/N, have you been eating enough?” Crystal asked from the kitchen, looking through your take out containers with enough food to feed an army.

You wiped your tears “I - I don’t know. I don’t remember. I couldn’t…”

“Shh, baby. It’s okay” Sierra said, sliding her hands up and down your arms to calm you down “Don’t worry. Why don’t we go sit, yeah?” You walked into the living room together. Sierra’s eyes were immediately fixed into the bottle of vodka in the middle of the coffee table. You felt ashamed “Y/N, did you..?”

“No” you said quickly “No, I couldn’t. I tried to, yes. But the smell… it reminded me too much of her and I just… I couldn’t”

The girls were sitting around you. They knew it was bad, but they didn’t image it to the point where you would even consider drinking as an escape. They hated to see you like that. You were the girl with the endless smile, the one who would happily put others before herself, the one that would be there at any time, at any moment. Being the life of every party, or at least in their tight group of friends, the one who has been through hell but came back as strong as ever. You didn’t even seem like yourself, you were broken. And they were determined to try to fix that.

“Why don’t you tell us everything? It will make you feel better, I promise”

So you took a deep breath and started. You told them how close you and Ashton got during quarantine. How you, even without knowing it at the time, hoped to talk to him everyday, how he made you feel special, the way his smile brightened your day. How you could always tell if he was in a bad mood just by looking at his eyes and not finding their gleam, how he made you feel like you could trust him almost instantly and how glad you were to be friends with him. You told them about the night of the party, how he seemed so happy to see you but acted strange around you and the others, almost like his old self. You told them about the balcony, what you talked about and how you kissed. How happy you were until he said those words.

“And I know he meant it” you said softly through your tears, like a little kid “it was a mistake, we should’ve never done it, he was right. I fucked up, I should’ve told him to stop, but I…” your voice broke and you were unable to continue, but KayKay stepped in.

“You didn’t want to”

You look at her, trying to find a hint of hate inside her eyes “Kay, I’m so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, Y/N. It’s fine”

The sincerity in her voice confused you.

“But.. but he’s your ex and you’re my friend. I could never..”

“Y/N, stop it” She said, placing her hand on your knee “It’s okay. Our relationship ended eons ago and we were never right for each other” she gave you a small smile “I love him, as a friend, just that. We were never meant to be. You want to know how I know that? Because I could never talk about him in the way that you just did, the way you described him and everything he did… you really love him do you?”

Your eyes winded. You didn’t tell them that, hell you weren’t able to tell yourself that until a few days ago. However, you couldn’t stop yourself from nodding.

“That’s alright. We can all tell how much you love that stupid boy. And I’m okay with that, honey. Really. Our friendship is stronger than that. And besides…” her smile grew “I know he feels the same”

“What?” You asked in disbelief.

“I talked to him a few times during lockdown, just to check on him. Everytime we talked he mentioned you in some way, weather it was a message you sent him or something funny you said or did, or even just out of nowhere you were always on his mind and, girl, the way his smile lighted up and his eyes shined… I’ve never seen him like that, not even with me, so I knew he was head over heels before he even knew it himself”

Saying that you were confused was an understatement “But he…”

“Y/N, remember what I told you about him? He never lies about his feelings but…”

“He avoids them” you finished.

“Sounds like someone we know…” Commented Crystal.

“And it sounds like you should definitely talk to him!” Sierra chimed in.

You started to protest but she cut you off.

“No, I don’t want to hear it. Y/N, I don’t know what that voice in your head tells you, but it’s lying. We are not going to stand here and let you drown, we will not allow it. You deserve your happy ending, you deserve all the love in the world and we love you so so much. How can we get it pass your head? You are not alone, you are loved. We are your family and we will not go anywhere, no matter how much you try to push us away” she raised her thumb to wipe the tears off your face “We will not force you, though. You will talk to him when you’re ready, but you have to talk to him. He’s just as broken as you are, maybe all you need is each other”

You nodded silently, thanking the universe for putting these amazing people in your life. But fearing the moment you will see Ashton again, not feeling completely confident for that.

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

Ashton, on his part, was a complete wreck.

He can’t eat, he can’t sleep, he can’t concentrate hard enough on the fact that he has a mini concert in two hours and he didn’t rehearse as much as he should’ve. He can only think of you and the sound of your heels walking away from him.

It’s been a week since last Saturday and he’s looking at his screen, hoping selfishly that your name would pop out at any second, but knowing damn well it won’t. He tried to message you a couple times, saying how sorry he was, but he could never find the words or the courage to send it, even though he knows he should. Feeling the tears burning in the back of his eyes, he tried hard to contain them. He’s been crying all week, but knows that now it’s not the best time to let it out.

He looks around the small room the venue gave them to prepare themselves. He can hear Michael warming up and he spots Luke talking to Sierra in a corner of the room, she’s smiling and he looks so happy. Ashton never wanted to hit that pretty boy’s face till now.

“You alright, mate?” Asked Calum, pulling him out of his jealous thoughts as he took a seat next to him on the couch “You look like shit”

“I feel like shit” Ashton averted his gaze back to his phone.

Calum nodded, choosing to ignore how harsh his comment sounded, knowing how hard this must be for his friend “Still haven’t talked to her?” Ashton looked at him shocked, he didn’t mention to Calum what was happening, only to Luke and Sierra because they caught him crying over Y/N “Luke told me, but to be honest I would’ve figured it out sooner or later”

Ashton’s voice was soft and filled with guilt and hurt, breaking Calum’s heart as he spoke “Has she told you how incredibly stupid I am?”

“I don’t need her to tell me that” The bassist gave his friend a small smile that he didn’t return “Besides, she’s not talking to me. She’s not talking to anyone, actually”

“What?”

“She’s been ignoring us, turning off her phone and shit. She didn’t talk to anyone after that night.You thought she was only ignoring you?”

Ashton’s world fell apart right there. Not only did he pushed her away from him, but he pushed her away from the only people he knows she loves the most. He royally fucked up this time and he will never forgive himself for this. Why can’t he stop hurting her?

“Why do you think she will talk to me, though?” Calum asked after a while.

“You were always so close” said Ashton in a monotone voice, trying to hide the hint of jealousy he felt towards his best friend “Always with each other and always talking about things none of us understod, so I thought…”

“Woah, you think there’s something between me and Y/N? Dude, no. Never” Calum said in disbelief “She’s amazing, don’t get me wrong and very pretty but she’s also like a sister to me, she reminds me a lot of Mali. And I could never do that knowing that my best friend is in love with her”

“What!? I..”

“Mate.. c’mon. Isn’t it useless to deny it any longer? We know you love her, it’s clear as the day. You do love her, don’t you?”

Ashton let out a sigh “Why does it matter? She will never feel the same”

“Now, why do you say that?”

“Because it’s the fucking truth, Cal” he said, his voice breaking at the end “I hurt her, every time. And she doesn’t deserve that, she.. she wouldn’t want me. She doesn’t want me and I made the stupid mistake of being selfish and kissing her, knowing damn well I shouldn’t have”

“Then why did you kiss her?”

“Because!” He said a little exasperated “Because she started talking about the stars, because she looked absolutely beautiful under the night sky. Because she was kind and she smiled at me in a way that I felt like the world was ending because there’s no way something as pure and beautiful as her could be smiling at me that way after everything I put her through” he sighed “Because when I kissed her I felt like I was were I meant to be and I never wanted to let go. Because I’m a selfish asshole, because I’m in love with her. And because of that I ended up hurting her, again”

Calum placed his hand on Ashton’s shoulder, patting it a little bit before saying “Then it’s your job to fix it, mate. She’s hurting, but I don’t think it’s because the same reason you think”

“Wh- what do you mean?”

“Talk to her”

Ashton felt like there was more to say, but they were interrupted by the stage manager asking them to follow them because the show was about to start.

He definitely wasn’t in the right headspace to play. Too many thoughts and emotions running through his head, to many questions without answers. Maybe when he sits on the stool and starts playing it might help him forget a little bit, but it was useless.

He could still feel your lips against his, and could still hear your little moan in between. He had you tattooed in his memory, the sound of your voice as his favorite melody. He loves you, but knows he shouldn’t. As he was playing he thought of you with so much passion, in every way and form, that he could almost swear he saw you at the side of the stage. But it wasn’t until Sarah gave you a hug that Ashton realized that you were actually there.

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

You made eye contact with Ashton as he was playing one of their new songs on stage. His eyes winded when he spotted you and immediatly started to look around to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. You were there, and you were starting to regret it. Maybe this wasn’t the right place, maybe he didn’t want to see you, maybe…

But then he looked at you again, and you felt like the rest of the world faded away, in that moment it was only you and him. Asking, wondering, loving, hoping without saying a word. That was the moment that seemed to last eternally.

You held his gaze until he had to look away, breaking the spell that caught you both. You tried to concentrate in the concert and the other boys, but your attention drifted to Ashton and, every time he could, he would look at you, almost afraid that you would disappear.

The concert ended and Ashton was the first one offstage. He came to you rather quickly and still filled with adrenally “We need to talk. Can we talk?” He asked with pleading eyes.

You nodded and let him guide you, people were trying to talk to him, but he ignored them all and didn’t even attempt to stop until you reached the rooftop of the venue.

It was a very windy night, so you wrapped your arms around yourself, though you weren’t sure if you were shivering from the cold or from the nerves. Ashton closed the door and turned to look at you, properly this time. He was sweating and panting due to the energy he displayed on stage, but he couldn’t feel a thing, not now because you were right there in front of him, looking like a dream he would never want to wake up from.

“Ash..” “Y/N” you said at the same time.

“Me first?” You said, he closed his mouth and nodded. Not sure if he wanted to hear what you got to say. You took a deep breath and started talking before you chicken out.

“I should hate you” you spatted “I should hate you, but I can’t” Ashton’s features visibly relaxed for a bit, scared of what might come next “I can’t because I miss you so damn much. I miss talking to you everyday. I find myself waiting for your name to pop up on my screen randomly, knowing it will make me smile. I didn’t mean to get so attached to you in so little time given than last year you were practically a stranger to me, you wouldn’t talk to me or even acknowledge me for years and I let it pass. I let it pass, not only because I didn’t understand it, but because I hoped one day you would notice me. When you said those things, I should’ve hated you back then, but I couldn’t and I didn’t. When you came to apologize I said I couldn’t do it yet, I was wrong. I forgave you that day without even realizing it because I can’t hate you, Ashton.”

You took a breath, trying to hold the tears that were threatening to escape “Then we became friends, and against my better judgement I let you in in my life and you let me in in yours because you made it so easy to trust you. I knew that one day that would’ve happen eventually, us becoming friends, and I wanted nothing more than that. What I didn’t know is that I would end up falling in love with you”

Ashton’s eyes winded at your confession his expression going from confused to shock to sad in less than one second, it seemed like he wanted to say something, but he held it in, knowing you weren’t done. So you continued.

“I love you, Ash. I know it might seem rushed, but I never lie about my feelings, I avoid them. And that’s exactly what I was doing before that night. Ashton when you kissed me…” you closed your eyes for a second, trying to find the words “I felt home. I felt safe around your arms like I’ve never felt before. I wanted it to be endless, I didn’t want to let go but then.. you did” you looked him in the eyes “I knew there was a possibility you didn’t feel the same, I won’t hold that against you. You are free to feel whatever you want and I know that I’m not perfect in any single way and I can’t even attempt to compete for your affection. I was always scared this would be something temporary and as I told you before, I’m used to mess it all up and to people walking out of my life, every one of them giving me a reason why. So I’m here to ask you: Why?”

Ashton looked at you, confused “Why?” He asked

“Why did you kiss me? Why did you pull away?” You said “Ashton, I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can barely function as a human being. So please, answer me so we can be at peace with each other. Maybe it won’t hurt that much this way”

Ashton couldn’t believe it, you really didn’t know? You think he would leave? Did you want him to?

“I kissed you because I wanted to do that for the longest time” he started, taking a step closer to you without breaking eye contact “I pulled away because I felt like it was for the best”

“For the best?”

“I don’t deserve you, Y/N”

Now it was your turn to be shocked. “Excuse me?”

“Y/N, since the day we met I’ve done nothing but hurt you. I refused the idea of getting to know you like everyone else did and for what? It’s still one of the biggest regrets of my life. I know I hurt you when I said those things, I still beat myself up everyday because of that. I don’t know why I did it, what was the intention besides hurting you. I didn’t know you and you made that very clear that day” You could see he was starting to get frustrated, but not with you “You said you forgive me, I’m saying I don’t deserve that” his voice was clear, but the hint of pain betrayed him “Getting to know you was and still is one of the greatest experiences of my life, you let me in when I should’ve stayed in the streets, I could never thank you enough for that. Your calls were the best part of my day, hearing your voice or seeing a text from you made me feel like the luckiest man on earth, I felt like heaven because I had you in my life and you made it worth living. Y/n, I fell for you so hard that I don’t think I’ve known love until I met you” Your breathing stopped as he said those words, your heart beating up so strongly you were afraid it might explode on your chest.

“But then I saw how you were with the others, how they were always so close and I felt like I was always ten steps behind. Y/N, I was jealous of everything we didn’t have and what we will never have and I know that sounds horrible because it was my fault to begin with. But seeing you with them made me realize just how undeserving I am of you”

“Ashton…”

“I’m not good for you” he said sternly. His eyes were glossy with the tears he was holding, but they never left yours “I’ve known that from the start and still I selfishly hoped that one day I will be, but we both know that’s not the case. You should be with someone that doesn’t hurt you, someone that will bring smiles instead of tears, someone like Cal or Luke or Michael. I can’t… I will never be good enough for you. I knew all of that when I kissed you that night, and I would be lying if I said that I didn’t know what I was doing or that I didn’t want it, because I did, I still do. But I can’t do that to you, even though it kills me, I don’t deserve you”

“Stop saying that” you said.

“Y/N..”

“Stop saying that! It’s not true!” You yelled at him “Who are you to tell me what’s good for me or not?! Who gave you the right to decide that?” He tried to talk but you shushed him raising your hand “ You’re telling me that you love me that you can’t be with me?! Like I’m a price or a toy? They are my emotions too, Ashton! I should have a say on it, don’t you think? I can’t believe you”

“What do you want me to say?!” He raised his voice as well “Do you know how much it hurts seeing you in pain and knowing that I was the once who caused it?”

“You’re being selfish”

“So what if I am!” He raised his arms in exasperation “I’m scared Y/N! I’m scared I will ruin everything again and break your heart!”

“Then don’t!” You yelled, louder “don’t break my heart, Ashton” your voice was softer now “I want to be with you, I love you! Is it that hard to love me?”

Ashton looked at you. Your eyes were filled with tears and fear, and even though you were shivering from the cold, he swore you couldn't look more beautiful. His eyes softened as he came closer to you “Loving you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done”

In a brave move, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you, pressing your lips together once again.

Scared at first, Ashton closed his eyes into the kiss, relaxing when he felt your hands play with the back of his head, twirling your fingers in his hair. He wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up in tight hug. Taking advantage of your little gasp to push his tongue into your mouth, making himself home.

You melted into the kiss once again, swearing you could see every color and every star, you felt infinite as you pressed against him. Taking everything you can form each other, memorizing the way you tasted and how good you felt. You threw away every meaningless fear you had, now it wasn’t the time to overthink. You loved him, and he loved you, that was all that mattered at this moment.

You hummed into the kiss when you felt a drop of water hit your cheek. At first you thought it was one of yours or Ashton’s tears, but when one drop became a thousand you realized that it was actually raining.

Ashton broke the kiss but rested his forehead against yours. He held a smile so wide that made you feel like the luckiest person on earth just for being a witness of that.

“This is so cliché” he laughed.

You giggled “I always liked the rain. It means new beginnings, a fresh start. It helps you grow as you go. It reminds me of a home I never had until I fell right into your arms”

“Well” Ashton said, kissing your forehead “Let this be the statement of our new beginning, because I am completely in love with you, Y/N. I know I am selfish for saying that, knowing that I will never fully deserve you. But I can’t help it, love. And I will do everything in my power to prove it to you, every single day of my life. Y/N, you make me want to be a better man. I want to know you for the rest of my life”

You kissed him one more time, happiness taking over you as your heart fluttered with his words, smiling into the kiss “I love you”

The rain kept falling, sealing your promise into solid ground. And as you walked back in hand in hand, you thought that, finally, your life came together. Finally allowing you to be completely and overwhelmingly happy.

204 notes · View notes

cordria · 4 years

Text

Flowers

Danny skulked into his house through the back door with the intent of avoiding his parents. He’d had an extremely wonderful day thus far - no homework, no ghosts, a decent grade on his math test, and even a compliment from his science teacher on the project they were working on - and he had zero desire to run into someone who could ruin his winning streak with a reminder about chores.

It was for nothing, as his mother was sitting at the kitchen table. Danny’s shoulders drooped.

“Hi Sweetie,” she said. “How was school?”

“Fine,” Danny muttered, toeing off his shoes and dropping his bag near the door. “I’m going to-” he stopped, realizing there was someone else at the table with his mother. He blinked at the strange woman. “Hello.”

The woman had a kind smile with large dimples, an oversized nose, and a large black curly hairstyle. She also looked vaguely familiar. “Hello.”

“Danny, this is Katie. She and I were good friends in college.”

It clicked in Danny’s mind. The woman was in a lot of his mother’s pictures from college. “Hi,” he repeated. Taking advantage of the fact that his mother was chatting up an old friend (although ‘friend from college’ made the little hairs on his neck stand on it - that phrase never seemed to bode well), Danny edged around the table with the idea of vanishing up to his room.

“She’s a botanist,” his mother continued, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Danny wanted to not be here. “Katie was just passing through after picking up some specimens, but she’s agreed to stay for a while and help me with an experiment I have going. She had a unique idea for it.”

“Sounds fun,” Danny said. He was nearly out of the kitchen.

“She’ll be staying in Jazz’s room.”

Danny hesitated. Having another scientist actually in their house meant he’d have to be careful to toe the line for a few days. “Okay…”

“Can you clean Jazz’s room a little before you relax?” His mother sent him a smile. “Make sure there’s nothing lying around?”

“Oh, Maddie,” the woman said, waving her hand, “I can do a bit of cleaning. I just appreciate the offer! Let the young man go do his thing after a long day.”

Danny was about to nod and agree with that sentiment, when he remembered Jazz sucked at hiding things. Like notebooks and photo albums full of secret-breaking information. “Ah… I can clean. Jazz is a neat freak anyways, it’ll only take a minute.”

“That’s sweet of you.” Katie sent him a huge smile. “Thank you.”

“New sheets and things too, please,” his mother added. “I know Jazz keeps her room clean, but it’s been almost a month since someone was in there. They’ll smell dusty.”

Danny waved his hand and took the chance to escape the kitchen. He trotted up the stairs, sending a quick text to Tucker that he’d be late logging into their game.

Jazz’s door was the second on the left, and the door was already open, a suitcase sitting on the bed and a coat draped on the desk chair. Danny felt something odd at seeing these strange things in his sister’s room, but he shrugged it off and glanced around. He knew about the notebook and the photo album. Now where did she hide them?

Poking around at the books on the bookshelf, Danny noticed what looked like a glass suitcase sitting on the ground. Pausing in his search for the notebook, he knelt down and studied what was inside. The glass was tinted, like sunglass lenses, and the objects inside were blurred and hard to see. They looked something like plants. Which made sense, since the woman was a botanist. Kinda weird, though, keeping them in such an odd container.

Danny left the plants to continue searching for anything secret-revealing, spending nearly fifteen minutes and not finding anything. “Perhaps she’s better at hiding things than I thought,” he muttered, slinking to the hall closet and getting a new set of sheets. “Or maybe she brought them to college.” It took only a few minutes to get the new sheets on the bed, new covers on the pillows, and to dump Jazz’s in the laundry. He lingered a few more minutes, eyes drifting over the room, trying to think of anywhere else things could have been hidden.

Feeling confident his secret wouldn’t be revealed, Danny headed towards his room. Tucker was waiting.

“Danny!”

He stopped, one foot in his room, and let his head fall back. He debated pretending not to hear his mother’s call. Twenty more seconds and his noise-cancelling headphones would have been on and he’d be surrounded by the sounds of an alien world. But his conscience tugged at him. “What?” he yelled.

“Need your help for a moment!”

He groaned, twisted on his heel, and slumped down the steps. Making sure every hint of his body screamed ‘I don’t want to be here’, Danny slunk back into the kitchen. “What?” he asked.

The kitchen table was now covered in paper. Graphs and charts and pages full of numbers were everywhere. His mother looked up with a grin, seemingly oblivious to his posture. “Katie has a terrarium up in Jazz’s room. Can you grab it please? And then, down in the lab, we’ll need some equipment. The portable lab kit will do, I think.”

Really? Danny thought as he headed back upstairs. Couldn’t do this yourself?

But after those couple annoyed thoughts, he did start to wonder what was in the terrarium that they’d need the porta-lab. Slipping back into Jazz’s room, he knelt down next to the terrarium and studied it a little closer.

There were five plants inside. They weren’t potted like a normal plant - their roots were dangling in the air, and the plants were suspended in the middle of the terrarium by glass rods. Two looked something like orchids, one looked like some sort of vine, and the other two looked like tiny trees. They looked like very normal plants, other than the lack of soil.

He shrugged and grabbed the terrarium, hauling it downstairs. “Here,” he said, setting it on top of the mess of papers.

“Thank you!” Katie chimed, reaching forwards and pulling it closer.

In a hurry to get back to Tucker and his game, Danny took the stairs to the basement two at a time. The portal was humming calmly. He headed straight to the self where the porta-lab was kept, snagged it, and headed back up the stairs. It joined the terrarium on the table.

The glass door was open and Katie and his mother were peering inside. Despite the desire to run upstairs and get into his afternoon fun, Danny lingered, curious.

His mother dug through the lab supplies, pulled out a huge pair of gloves, and handed them over to Katie. “Perfect,” the woman whispered, reaching into the terrarium with gloved hands, and slowly releasing one of the plants from the glass rods holding it in place, and pulling it out of the terrarium.

Danny felt himself tensing, waiting for something bad to happen. Maybe it was a ghost flower, like those blood blossoms. There had to be a reason for the lab supplies and the strange, tinted glass. It’d be just his sort of luck, too, after such a good day.

But it was a normal plant. Six long green leaves. Limp white roots dangling from Katie’s gloved fingers. A small but pretty white flower hanging from a stem.

Danny was almost disappointed. “What is it?” he asked.

“Dendrobium pacificum florid,” Katie said with a smile. “A rare and quite expensive orchid.”

“It’s just a plant,” Danny said.

Katie glanced at him. “What were you expecting?”

Danny sent his mother a confused glance. “You’re doing a project… on a normal plant? No ghost… anything?”

Katie laughed. “Ghosts? Are you still on that, Maddie? Jack and Vlad too, I suppose.”

Maddie’s smile twisted into a small frown. “There’s potential-”

“Yes, yes,” Katie interrupted. “I heard all about it many times in college. God, it’s hard to believe you three never gave that pet theory up.”

Danny could see his mother’s hackles rise. “It’s not really a pet theory anymore, if you’d follow the news.”

“Of course, dear,” Katie said, her smile indulgent. Then she turned to Danny, ignoring the look on Maddie’s face. “And we’re not doing an experiment on the plant. We’re doing an experiment on it’s genetics.”

Still with a frown on her face, Maddie nodded. “Vlad sent-”

Every muscle in Danny’s body tensed.

“-along some rather interesting data he said he’d collected and Katie’s an expert in biogenetic engineering, especially when it comes to plants. We’re hoping to see if we can recreate some of… this,” she waved her hands at the messy stack of papers, “in a plant.”

“Uh-huh,” Danny said, trying not to sound too interested. But with Vlad involved, he needed to know what this experiment was about. “What are you trying to get the plants to do? Grow fangs and attack Da... uh… someone?”

Katie laughed. “No. We’re trying to translate a unique bioluminescent trait into the plant. Like what a firefly uses to glow.”

“A… glowing plant?” Danny asked.

His mother sent him a tight smile. “Yes.”

Danny looked down at the porta-lab, at the ghost equipment and the beakers that still had traces of glowing ectoplasm clinging to them and the sensors, and put two and two together in his mind. “Will this glowing plant be able to… float?”

Katie leaned forwards. “Floating is impossible, but the bioluminescent trait caused some sort of odd gravitropism. It was the interesting part of Vlad’s research, one of the reasons I agreed to this.”

Danny blinked, glancing at his mother in hopes of a translation.

Maddie’s smile was sharp. “It’s a bioluminescent plant with odd gravitropism, Danny. Not a glowing plant that floats, of course. Ghosts are a… silly pet theory.”

“Ah,” Danny said.

“I’m more interested in studying the gravitropism to be honest,” Katie said, turning the plant around and around in her hands. “Bioluminescence has been done before, of course. This plant has just the right sort of genetics for what I’m seeing in this data. Fortunately it’s flowering. Unfortunately, it’s such a slow grower it’ll be years before the pollen and ovules we’re modifying will be large enough plants for good study.”

“Think about it,” Maddie said, leaning forwards and poking a finger at the papers, “a way to create organisms, living beings, with… bioluminescent and odd gravitropism.”

Danny didn’t particularly want to think about it. He didn’t want his mother figuring out how to create plants that could glow and float. A half-ghost plant. He felt the hair raise on his neck at the idea of his mother realizing that a half-living, half-ghost creature was possible.

Surely Vlad didn’t want her to either. What was the man thinking?

“I’m going to… go,” Danny said. “You guys play with your plants.”

He ducked out of the kitchen, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he headed up the stairs. He went through his blocked number list, found the one he wanted, and hit ‘call’. “Hi, Vlad,” Danny said when the phone picked up.

“I’m busy, Little Badger.”

“What’s with the data my mom’s looking through?”

Vlad scoffed. “Merely theoretical information. I’m hoping she can help me solve an instability issue I’m working through.”

“Theoretical, huh?” Danny slumped into his room and shut the door. “You’re not planning on her using any of that information?”

“Maddie doesn’t have the skill, interest, or technology to actually do anything with the data I sent her. It’s not even the complete set of data. I’m just using her analytical skills to find a mistake. It’s harmless, Daniel.”

“You remember Katie, from college?”

“No.” A pause, then, “The flower girl? Black hair, big nose?”

“You mean the botanical biogenetic engineer? Yes, that one. She’s sitting at my kitchen table, looking through your ‘merely theoretical information’ and planning an experiment with my mom.”

There wasn’t a response to that.

“Hello?” Danny said after a long thirty seconds of silence. He pulled the phone away from his face, realizing he’d been disconnected. He couldn’t help but smile. “Well. That was rude.”

When the doorbell rang just a few minutes later, Danny glanced out the window to see Vlad’s limo double-parked outside. Setting his headphones over his ears, he finally logged into his game. It’d certainly be interesting to watch Vlad try to talk the information back out of his mother’s hands, but Danny was ready to tune out the world and play his game.

#dannymay 2020 #quick writing #having a little fun lately #maybe writing will make my head screw on the right way again #dannymay2020

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hermannsthumb · 4 years

Note

Once Newt and Hermann finally move in together, Newt accidentally stumbles upon Hermann's vibrator. Newt gets hard immediately just imagining his beautiful sexy husband using it on himself. Newt wants to see that. Newt wants to do that. Newt wants to see Hermann fuck himself with his vibrator, and fuck Hermann with his vibrator. Hermann's all adorably flustered when Newt brings it up, and then he sees just how turned on Newt is by the idea.

well uh. this is (as you might expect) kind of a hard 18+/not safe for work

———————-

“Need help with that?” Newt says.

Hermann heaves a small cardboard box up to his bad hip with a groan; Hermann Gottlieb is written on the side in Sharpie, in Hermann’s neat, tidy hand. All of his boxes are marked similarly. It’s kind of cute, really, that he even bothers–half of his stuff is Newt’s now anyway, and vice-versa, and truthfully has been since the lab. Odds are it’s stuffed with their shared mugs or papers Newt co-authored. “No, no,” he says. “I can manage.”

The box doesn’t look particularly heavy, but Hermann’s been quite insistent on not leaving all the heavy lifting to Newt all day, and he’s wincing in a way that means he might’ve strained himself a bit too much. Newt shoots him a small smile and places a hand on the box. “Hey, look, why don’t you take a break?” he says. “We only have a few things left. It’ll take me, like, ten minutes. Go test out the new couch. Better yet, find us some fucking dinner. I’m starving.”

The previous renter left behind a drawer full of take-out menus (which Newt discovered as he attempted to unpack their mis-matched collection of utensils earlier), and Newt’s sure at least one of them will be promising. Hermann returns the smile gratefully and relinquishes his hold on the box. Newt was right–it’s not very heavy. Pretty light, in fact. “Alright. If you’re sure.” Hermann presses a kiss to the corner of Newt’s mouth. “Is there anything you’re particularly in the mood for?”

“Nah,” Newt says, and then catches Hermann’s sleeve with his free hand to reel him in for a much filthier kiss. “Something quick. I have plans.” Those plans involve spending plenty of time breaking in their nice big, new, soft bed, before the exhaustion of the day inevitably catches up to them.

“I see,” Hermann says, and adds wryly, “Perhaps I ought to take a nap, too.”

Newt gives him another kiss for his troubles, enjoying the small sound Hermann makes into his mouth when he flicks his tongue against the seam of his lips. But when Newt pulls away, Hermann’s all business. “Do be careful with that,” he says, eyeing the box Newt took from him warily. “Its contents are–er–rather delicate.”

Mugs after all, then. Or maybe family photographs. “Kitchen?” Newt says, already headed down the hallway.

“Bedroom,” Hermann says. Oh. Newt does a one-eighty in the opposite direction. “Er–just leave it on the bureau. I’ll deal with it…later.”

Now, Newt’s no snoop, and he would certainly never go through Hermann’s possessions without permission–mutual trust, respecting boundaries, all that shit that healthy couples need–but accidents happen. He’s only trying to be helpful. He puts the box on the bureau, as Hermann instructed, but he must do it a little too hard, because its contents roll around and clatter and thud, and then–bewilderingly–begin to vibrate.

Newt shakes the box. It doesn’t stop.

He peels off the packing tape.

He’s not really sure what he expects to find in it besides the obvious: there are very few things a vibrating box deposited into a bedroom can contain, after all. Sure enough, when Newt opens the flaps, he finds himself staring down at a pretty high-end bottle of lubricant and the most expensive-looking vibrator in existence. A vibrator that’s currently buzzing. Newt flicks it off quickly, then–before he can help himself–picks it up.

Hermann has a vibrator. Hermann has a nice vibrator. It’s long, and curved, and made of a dark material that is fucking amazing to the touch. Another glance in the box reveals a small remote control, with settings in speed and rhythm all the way from one to ten, and a few bonus ones labelled with things like Pleasure Overload.

Hermann uses a vibrator that has settings for things like Pleasure Overload.

“Hol-lee shit,” Newt whistles.

Newt can picture it now: Hermann, stripped bare, face down on his bed, writhing and gasping in pleasure as he crams the vibrator into himself over and over. Begging aloud for it to go faster. Coming, untouched, all over his pasty chest, his rumpled sheets, wailing into his pillow as he fucks himself through it, not even stopping–

“Newton?” Hermann calls.

Newt throws the vibrator back into the box and tapes it messily back shut. There’s nothing to be done about his raging boner, but maybe Hermann will be too distracted by the Thai or Italian or whatever takeout to notice it. He pokes his head out of the bedroom. “Yeah, babe?” he says, heart thudding.

No Hermann in sight. Hermann’s voice comes from the living room when he speaks again. “What on Earth is keeping you?” he says. “I need to know what you want on your pizza.”

Hermann uses a vibrator. Hermann uses settings like Pleasure Overload.

“Mushrooms,” Newt croaks.

“What’s that?”

Newt swallows thickly and steps into the living room. Hermann is sprawled out on the new couch, his cane settled against one of the armrests. Luckily, he’s too engrossed in the pizza menu to look up and catch sight of Newt’s little problem. “You ought to look this over,” he says in a hum. “They have some very interesting combinations. This one has shrimp, and onions–and this one is called the Athenian, with feta cheese, black olives–oh, I forgot, you don’t like olives. Too salty, anyway. Though I suppose we could order it without if we wanted to, but that doesn’t seem to quite fit the spirit, does it…”

It isn’t like Hermann doesn’t have sex. Hermann has sex plenty, Newt as his enthusiastic witness. Hermann fucks Newt. Newt fucks Hermann. Hermann sucks Newt’s dick, and jerks him off in the shower, and moans like a whore when Newt gets his tongue in him. But a vibrator’s different, isn’t it? A vibrator isn’t just sex, and it isn’t even just jerking off–it’s a very certain kind of jerking off. A certain kind of jerking off he hasn’t even let Newt be privy to. They haven’t even used dildos together.

It’s hard to imagine the Hermann sitting in front of him now, in a moth-eaten sweater vest and smudged librarian glasses on a chain, jamming a vibe up his ass on the reg.

“Are you even listening to me?” Hermann says.

“No,” Newt admits.

Hermann scowls, but he doesn’t push Newt away when Newt plops next to him on the sofa, nor when he starts pawing at the hem of his sweater. “Newton,” Hermann says, “I thought you wanted–dinner–” Newt mouths at his neck, and Hermann gasps. The menu slips to the floor. “Newton. We haven’t finished moving everything from–”

“I don’t give a shit,” Newt says.

He pulls Hermann’s hand down and presses it at the tented front of his jeans; Hermann’s eyebrows jump. “What has gotten into you?”

“Honey,” Newt mumbles against the skin of Hermann’s neck, “can I fuck you with your vibrator?”

Hermann’s whole body tenses. He rips his hand away in the middle of what had been a pretty nice feel-around of Newt’s junk. “My what?” he echoes shrilly.

“Your vibrator,” Newt says. Oh, right, he wasn’t supposed to know about that, was he? It’s hard to think straight when he’s horny. He grins sheepishly. “I kinda accidentally looked inside the box. You could use it on yourself instead, if you want, and I could watch.” Actually, that’s kinda hotter–no effort required for Newt, and Hermann would probably be so carried away he wouldn’t mind if Newt jerked off on his chest or something. Hot, hot, hot.

Hermann isn’t a very good sport about it. “That’s,” Hermann splutters, “that’s a very personal object, Newton! And expensive! I told you–if you hadn’t been careful–I don’t go snooping through your belongings, do I?”

“It was an accident,” Newt says, and then, in a snort, “Expensive. How expensive?”

“If you must know, I saved up a month of paychecks for it,” Hermann snaps. “And it was bloody worth it. Dealing with the you day in and day out–I was tense as anything. I would’ve cracked years ago without it, and then where would we be?”

Newt sits back against the opposite arm rest with a pout. “It was a waste of money, is what it was,” he says. “Why didn’t you just ask me to lend a little hand? Or, you know.” He leers at Hermann, parting his legs slightly. Truthfully, he is a little offended, even though they didn’t start their thing until a few months after their drift–Hermann would’ve rather dropped several hundred bucks on a piece of plastic when he had a living, breathing, and very available lab partner at the ready who would’ve done anything he wanted at the snap of his fingers. Give Newt a few cans of Red Bull, hide his Ritalin, Hermann wouldn’t have remembered his own name. It’s a crying fucking shame.

“Yes, but unlike you,” Hermann says, “it wasn’t a walking breeding ground for extraterrestrial bacteria.” He makes a face. “Who knows what I might’ve caught from you. Urgh.”

That one stings a little, even though Newt firmly believes that proper lab protocol is for losers, and he was completely justified in his lackadaisical approach to…well, everything. “Hey, dude, no fair,” he says, weakly. “My tests all came back clean!”

“This argument is ridiculous,” Hermann says. “We’re not using it, and that’s final.”

Twenty minutes later, Hermann is lying on their new bed with Newt’s fingers and a decent amount of that high-end lube up his ass. Hermann, despite his posturing, is a pushover when it comes to the promise of sex. “You’re going too slowly,” he complains, wriggling and pushing back against Newt’s hands.

“I’m going perfect,” Newt says. “It’s not my fault you’re impatient.” The lube feels awesome on his skin, kinda warm and tingly, and he can’t help but be a little disappointed he won’t get to feel it on his dick tonight. And that Hermann’s never broken it out before now. Hermann buys the lubricant they use in bulk, generic as hell and in these massive gallon-size jugs with a little soap-dispenser hand pump on top. Totally stupid. He can’t imagine what the Shatterdome delivery guy thought of them. “Hey, how come you don’t let us use the fancy stuff, dude?”

“You wouldn’t appreciate it,” Hermann says. “To the left, darling. Yes.” He sighs happily, melting against his mound of pillows, and gives his dick a few languid strokes. Newt withdraws his fingers.

“I think you’re good,” he declares. “What do you mean I wouldn’t appreciate it?”

Hermann gives him a look over his glasses. Newt understands his point, though he’s not ever going to admit it out loud; he gets a little carried away with how awesome everything is when he tops, sometimes, and Hermann gets carried away with it too. He’s not sure he’d even notice if they were using fancy lube. “Whatever,” he says, and hands over the vibe. “C’mon, I want to watch you already.”

“Impatient,” Hermann echoes with an eyeroll.

The vibe is switched on (on setting 5, to Newt’s disappointment, no pleasure overload yet) and after that, everything is all business.

“Often, if I’m–er–feeling up to it, I start–” Hermann presses the end of the vibe against his nipple, and his whole body shudders. “Ah. Oh. That’s–what I’d do, if you’d been–” The other nipple; another shudder. “Particularly–particularly dreadful one day.”

“Would you think of me?” Newt says with a grin.

“Absolutely not,” Hermann snaps.

He trails the vibe down his abdomen, stopping in the messy patch of dark pubic hair just above his dick–which, Newt notices happily, is fully hard and already wet at the tip. “Mm, maybe sometimes. I would now. Only I haven’t used it since we…”

“Yeah?” Newt says. He watches Hermann move the vibe in little circles over the thatch of hair, just avoiding his dick each time. “That’s hot.” All if it’s hot: Hermann thinking of Newt while he masturbates, Hermann masturbating, Hermann admitting that Newt is just so awesome in bed he hasn’t had to masturbate in months.

Hermann grazes the vibe down one thigh, shivering this time. “Most of the time I’d just–”

He pushes half the vibrator into himself in one sharp motion; his dick gives an equally sharp jerk. Newt and Hermann, meanwhile, moan in unison. “Goddamn, Hermann,” Newt whines, eyes glued to Hermann’s stretched, red rim, the sleek little bit of machine it twitches around. “That’s really hot.”

But Hermann’s eyes are screwed up tight in concentration behind his lopsided glasses, and he pays Newt no mind as he grips the base of the vibe and continues to push it deeper, breath coming out in a series of short, needy puffs. “How’s it feel?” Newt says. “Tell me, I want–”

“Very–very good.” Hermann grips his dick, tugging on it as he works the vibe in and out of himself in perfect tandem. He’s going nice and slow. Slower than Newt would go. Newt’s not surprised–Hermann told him it was meant to be stress relief, after all. (Maybe that’s why Hermann was always a bit more cheerful the morning after they’d had a nasty fight in the lab.) “Newton,” he groans.

Newt can’t help it: he bends down and kisses him. Hermann’s just too fucking sexy for him not to. Hermann groans a little louder into his mouth. “Hermann, Hermann,” Newt pants, “dude, can I–”

“You can do whatever you bloody want,” Hermann says, his voice high and breathy.

Newt takes that to heart. It’s a bit of an effort to fit his dick in alongside the vibe, but holy shit, is it worth it. Between the vibrations and Hermann clamping down impossibly tight around both Newt and the toy, he’s surprised he doesn’t pass out from just sitting there. Hermann, meanwhile–Hermann’s eyes roll back into his head, he writhes on the bed, and he grips wildly at Newt’s shoulders, and for a second Newt thinks Hermann might pass out too.

“Ah, ah–!”

“How’s’it feel?” Newt manages to croak out.

Hermann kisses him messily.

Once he’s sure he’s not about to blow it then and there, Newt reaches down and nudges the vibe in to the hilt. He knows at once when he hits Hermann’s prostate: Hermann’s whole body seizes, and shakes, and his mouth falls open in a wordless cry against Newt’s. After that, it’s over for both of them.

They lay in a sweaty, sticky heap for a little while, Hermann breathing like he’s just run a marathon, Newt already threatening to doze off like he always does after an awesome round of sex. The vibrator lays innocently between them. Finally Hermann prods at Newt’s shoulder and rouses him from his self-congratulatory afterglow. “You still have two boxes to carry in,” he says.

“Dude,” Newt whines.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #not sfw///#like for real HAHA #Anonymous

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writingwithciara · 4 years

Text

Silent Auction (1) ~Topper Thornton~

summary: Kildare County High School decides to have an auction to save the arts programs. all the students are up for grabs and y/n is purchased by the least likely person. her worst nightmare. her nemesis. someone who doesn’t even attend the school.

word count: 1.4k

pairings: topper x reader, pope x kiara

warnings: fluff, enemies to friends (kinda)

a/n: i was watching zoey 101 and this idea popped into my head.

← previous next →

masterlist

“What’s with the assembly?” Kiara asked as she sat with the pogues sat at the back of the auditorium.

“I heard that someone went missing.” JJ laughed as he leaned over. y/n slapped his chest and pushed him back.

“Shut up, JJ.” she laughed.

“I heard there was a meeting last night and that one of the programs was being cut.” John B informed the group. “I heard it was the drama department.”

“What? No. That’s entirely unfair.” y/n gasped. “If anything, it should be the History program.” she teased, knowing how much John B loved History class.

“Relax guys. I’m sure it’s neither of those.” Kiara smiled and looked through her phone.

The principal got up on the stage and propped the microphone at her level.

“Good morning staff and students. The purpose of today’s assembly is to discuss the problem we’ve been having with the funding.” she looked down at her notes and continued talking. “It has been brought to my attention that we’ve gone overboard on the budget for this years activities and that we need to cancel a program. At last nights school meeting, your teachers and I put our heads together and figured out what program wasn’t getting as much participants as the others, and therefore, has to be cut out of the budget.”

“It’s totally the arts program.” John B smiled and whispered in y/n’s ear. She slapped his arm as he laughed.

“Shut up, John B.”

“Unfortunately, we will be cutting funding for the arts department.” the principal spoke in a sad tone. Tons of people murmured to the people around them. “I know, I know. It’s a very sad decision but not a lot of students here are really all that interested in the department. I was shocked and thought it would’ve been the History department.” she sighed. “I love the arts program and it pains me to have to see it get taken away, but it’s what needs to be done.” she looked out at the sea of students and teachers. “That will be all. You may now return to your classrooms.” she ended the assembly and walked off-stage.

Y/n and Pope returned to their soon-to-be-cut Art class and sat at their stations.

“Man, this blows. Just when I get good at art, they cut the program.” Pope sighed and picked up a brush. Their teacher, Mr Marzello, entered the room and sat down at his desk.

“I was not expecting that to happen.” he moped. “With the cuts, this means that this will be our final week together. I will miss you all.” he looked at all 11 of his students. Pope was undoubtedly the favorite, as he was the most improved, with y/n coming in a close 2nd. “Now, for your assignment, I would like you to do a painting that represents you. You can make it as creative, or plain as you wish. This will be your final assignment and will be due at the end of the week.”

“This really sucks.” Pope set his brush down and looked at the canvas in front of him. It was blank, aside from a blue dot sitting in the middle.

Y/n admired his creativity and looked over at her own canvas. It was a pure white canvas. She couldn’t bring herself to even think about the class, knowing it was going to end. She tapped the brush on the edge as she thought of an idea to save the program. When she got one, she sat up straighter and smiled.

“I know that look.” Pope smiled at his best friend. “You’ve got an idea on how to save the program, don’t you?” As she nodded, both their smiled grew bigger and she told him her idea.

At the end of class, they were the last two to leave, as usual. They approached Mr Marzello’s desk with mischievous looks on their faces. He looked up and was startled.

“Hey, guys. What’s up?”

“We thought of a way we could raise money and save the program.” Pope began.

“And we’re gonna need your help.” y/n finished. She proceeded to tell their teacher everything he needed to hear.

As the final bell for the day rang, Pope and y/n met up with Mr Marzello and they headed into the principal’s office.

“Ms. Nickols, these two lovely students came up with a pretty neat fundraiser idea that may just save the arts programs.”

“What’s the idea?”

“We have a silent auction.”

“What would we be auctioning?” the principal was in the edge of her seat as the three of them explained it all to her.

“We’d be auctioning off a bunch of people. All we gotta do is find anyone who’s willing to be bought.”

“Okay. How would the silent auction work, exactly?”

“Easy.” Pope smiled. “We find the participants, and instead of having their pictures on the forms, we assign them all numbers. People can then bid on whatever number they think they’ll want and when the time is up, we sell the participants. They don’t have to be for dates or anything, either. The winners can use them for whatever.”

“That sounds brilliant. But we’ll need at least two supervisors, myself and someone else, for this event and it’s gonna take some planning.”

“I’m willing to be a supervisor and I know these two are already planning it. Look at them. They’re planning it as we speak.” the two adults looked at the teenagers who were whispering to each other.

“Okay. You got yourselves a deal.” the principal smiled and watched the trio exit her office in the happiest of moods.

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

4 days later, Pope and y/n had set everything up and they smiled at each other as they watched the auditorium fill up with people.

“I almost forgot.” y/n smiled and handed Pope a piece of paper. “I signed you up for this.”

“What a coincidence, because,” he smiled and gave her a number. “I signed you up too.”

“I bet I’ll get more than you.” she stuck her tongue out and continued signing people in.

“In your dreams, darling.” he chuckled.

After the 3 hours was up, Mr Marzello retrieved all the clipboards and handed them to Ms Nickols.

“Welcome to the first ever Kildare County High Silent Auction.” she greeted the crowd and it was met with tons of cheers. “First up, we have Jasmine Vingras.”

The night went on and it felt like it took forever for them to get through all 42 participants. Pope and y/n looked at each other and smiled.

“This was quite a turn out, tonight. I’m so happy that we’ve raised enough money to save the arts program and have enough let over to put away for next year.” Pope smiled.

“Yeah. And we’re the last two participants so we’re gonna get a lot more.” y/n replied with a smile.

“And now, the first of our masterminds behind this auction, #43. Mr Pope Heyward.”

“Good luck, Pope.” y/n smiled as he climbed onto the stage.

“This lovely boy was auctioned for,” Mr Marzello looked down at Pope’s clipboard. “Wow. He was auctioned for $1500 to Ms Carrera.”

Kiara stood up and smiled as he looked at her in shock. he climbed off the stage and walked over to the girl.

“Why’d you spend so much and how’d you know it was me?” he chuckled.

“Because I like you, dummy. And I figured it was you when I heard you and y/n talking to each other at the beginning of the event.” she blushed.

“I’m glad you bought me.” he smiled and they walked to the side of the stage.

“Now, time for the final participant of the evening. Ms y/l/n.” Ms Nickols smiled and the crowd clapped as y/n walked up on stage.

JJ looked at his friends and smirked. “I put a pretty big bid down her sheet. I’m hoping it was enough to get her.

“Ms y/ln was auctioned off for a whopping...” Ms Nickols looked at the clipboard and her eyes widened. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is the highest bid ever. The lovely young lady standing on stage with me, earned the school over 10 grand alone. She was auctioned off at a grand total of $15,000 to a Mr....” she squinted and looked at the paper. “Mr Thornton.”

The pogues all looked around the room and when they saw Topper standing and scratching the back of his neck, they were shocked.

Topper Thornton. Enemy to Pogues and Nemesis to y/n herself. This was unbelievable.

tags:

@spilledtee @im-a-stranger-thing @ameeraaa21 @jellyfishbeansontoast @obxmxybxnk @http-cherries @ijustreallylovethem @maggiesrandomness @softstarkey @poguesgold @jjouterbanks

#topper thorton x reader #topper obx #topper thornton #topper x reader

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m87gallium · 3 years

Text

yoo ishimaru bday fic (? might make longer) based off Kodakas tweet from ages ago probably

So I thought of taka bday stuff so heres a fic.

There’s like 1200 words. Theres ishimondo and no swearing or death or etc. Cos yes.

Birthday party (yes I kinda suck at titles its late ok)

Kiyotaka looked down at his desk. He put down the old broom and wiped the dust off his spotless– well, not anymore, but it would be soon enough– uniform. As soon as he finished tidying the class and doing his homework and working out…

He shook the nagging feelings out of his head and took the piece of paper, unfolding it with care.

“Meet me at 5 in the Science Lab Storage Room.”

He couldn’t quite place the handwriting. Sure, the way those os looped was familiar, but the letters were too far apart and… neat to be a casual note. The phrase had been scrawled on forcefully, as if trying to make sure the words were clear.

He smiled. This message was like a puzzle! Like the type that Makoto and Kyoko (and secretly Byakuya) liked to ponder over during breakfast! Of course, it wasn’t really a puzzle, considering the author’s identity would be revealed as soon as they met up at the lab!

He was going, right?

Well, he was almost finished either way! And it was his birthday! He could take a break! He allowed a thought to race across his mind…

“What if this was a surprise birthday party?”

A huge grin grew on his face. Of course! That was why all his classmates had been so busy!

He put the broom on its place and locked the classroom door, still smiling.

He had to admit, his fellow students had played their cards well. Makoto, with his excuse that he had to go to the hospital to visit his sister after her appendicitis, Kyoko with a lie about her grandfather’s case… they had truly had him fooled!

Leon and Sayaka had outdone them, though… combining their cover stories was an outstanding move! They must’ve known Taka didn’t read idol magazines, that’s why they came up with their silly “we have a concert” ruse.

He chuckled, walking up the stairs to the first floor.

Celestia’s cat being lost… and Hifumi offering to draw posters for it… and Chihiro putting them online… ingenious! If only they had such enthusiasm when attending to their studies… but that just meant they were enthusiastic about surprising him! On his birthday! He was over the moon.

He mused over Byakuya’s apology over not being able to attend school on his birthday on account of “family business”. When he thought about it, he felt his admiration grow. Not only was Byakuya very hardworking… but he was also an excellent actor! The sadness in his eyes… what masterful acting! And the way he’d handed over a swanky quill as a present… it really did feel as if he wasn’t able to make it! Well, it would’ve… if Ishimaru didn’t know how emotionless he was! His act was, he now admitted, too emotional.

Oh, and Hiro… who had been missing for the last week… that was likely part of the plan too! He hoped… even if Hiro and he barely talked, him disappearing for a week without explanation gave way to quite upsetting thoughts.

Toko hadn’t mentioned his birthday at all… but that probably meant she was afraid to give the surprise away! Hooray! His classmates were all so caring!

He reached the second floor and kept walking… taking his time, seeing as he still had several minutes left, and he didn’t want to walk in while they were still preparing it!

He could just picture Sakura and Aoi lifting tables into the room with their strong arms and kind smiles! And all his other classmates with a different kind of food, and different presents and…!

Ah! This was going to be like every single surprise birthday party he’d watched while studying pop culture! He was so excited, darn it! He was trembling a little as he sat down on the floor, checking his wristwatch… less than two minutes left!

He pictured the scene unfolding behind the lab’s heavy doors… In his head, Junko and Mukuro weren’t there– he found the possibility that Mondo would invite them unlikely…

Obviously, he thought, Mondo would be the one to organise his party. He was his best friend! Who better to think of such a sweet thing to do but the sweetest and kindest man he knew!

He smiled at the air as if he were there in front of him.

“Thank you, bro, for bringing me such joy and hope.” he’d say.

“Don’t be so sappy…” Mondo’d turn a little and his face would redden and… The little hour hand clicked, pointing finally at the silver five. Taka sprang up and ran to the science lab, his teeth chattering from anticipation.

He slammed the storage room door open and formulated in his head, smiling.

“When I turn on the lights, everyone shall fire off their crackers all at once! Just wait!”

His eyes adjusted to the light as he flinched a little. They opened wide as he looked at all his classma-

As he looked at Mondo Owada, his best friend, holding a cake and smiling hesitantly, all alone.

“Hm? It’s just you, bro?” he couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice. He really was stupid, wasn’t he? The adrenaline sunk down to his stomach and he lowered his eyes, suddenly weary. He tried to muster a grin for Mondo, who stood dejectedly with his sloppily decorated banana cake.

“You look so damn sad… this was a letdown, wasn’t it?” he set the plate on the table, along with star-shaped rice balls and several presents.

Kiyotaka looked at Mondo in the eyes. He noted that, in other circumstances, he might have thought that he appeared quite attractive, despite wearing a colourful white-and-red birthday hat on his pompadour, and a “birthday boy’s best friend” pin on his chest.

Well, under these circumstances he thought so too. Darn it.

Pushing that temporary disconcertion aside, the reality of the situation hit him yet again. He leaned against the door, giddy… but bad giddy. He thought about asking Fukawa if there was a word for that– Fukawa who completely disregarded him on his birthday–

He turned his gaze to Mondo, and sobered up instantly.

“N-no, I’m satisfied even if you’re the only one to celebrate, bro!”

“Jeez… I’m sorry I couldn’t get anyone else to come… they were all so busy an’…”

Taka saw his expression darken and immediately cried out, “P-Please don’t look so depressed! Why don’t we eat some cake together?!”

“…Really?”

“Yes! I’m delighted you did this for me! It was silly of me to hope for a big party anyways! Did you make the cake yourself?”

He changed the topic quickly, finding that he really was happy that Mondo had organised this for him. The decorations were red and white and gold, and a blue tarp had been placed on the floor along with a small portable television. There was a CD case open next to it: one that he remembered having offhandedly mentioned he liked during art class… the Adorable Reactions Collection.

“Yeah, I made the cake myself… I see ya throw banana peels in the bin every day… so there’s no reason why I wouldn’t know ya like ‘em… try it though, I ain’t so sure 'bout the result.”

Kiyotaka grimaced, tears welling up in his eyes, the corners of his mouth crinkling up.

“The hell? The flavour can’t be so bad that ya start crying before ya try it!”

“It’s not that!” drool fell out of his mouth in turn with his tears, “I’m just… so honoured to be your bro! I value you so much!”

He embraced Mondo, still trembling from the pierce of feeling.

“I love ya too.” he smiled.

The end? I wanna sleep so that’s it probably

Heres what kinda inspired me!!!

“ISHIMARU: To be called into a dark room… This must be a surprise party! When I turn on the lights, everyone shall fire off their crackers all at once! Just wait! I’m turning on the lights… Hm? It’s just you, Bro? N-No, I’m satisfied even if you’re the only one to celebrate, Bro! P-Please don’t look so depressed! Why don’t we eat some cake together?!”

which is essentially canon (https://twitter.com/kazkodaka/status/638333368510222337) and thought ‘what if I wrote something based off it :)’ but then i made it sad but the dull kind of sad.

#kiyotaka ishimaru #mondo owada #ishimondo fic #?#might continue #kinda nervous no beta read urgh #ishimondo #ishimaru kiyotaka #kiyotaka ishimaru fic #danganronpa thh #danganronpa #danganronpa fic #danganronpa fanfiction #tags B)#thats my writing tag haha its a reference to a 1979 song #welp bye #to light the sacrificial write

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atlas-tries · 4 years

Text

Shatter Me Chapter 3: Shatter Me

Read on AO3

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Summary: Patton finds a painful memory and Janus has a vision. Will it be enough to thwart the outcomes that await?

Notes: Redundant, no? Not gonna lie, fam, it's about to get to the darkest point. Trigger warnings for character death.

“Patton, are you sure you aren’t a hoarder?” Virgil asked, pushing aside a mountain of plushies where he had been unfortunate enough to land. This was the first time the anxious side had been in Patton’s room since he moved to their part of the Mindscape (also the first time he had ever been to Patton’s room) and Patton was beside himself to have him here.

“Absolutely! I just like to keep a few sentimental things around to look at when I’m feeling down,” Patton replied. “But I guess it uh, wouldn’t hurt to clean up a little. Gotta make room for more memories, right? I actually have the energy to do it now!”

Virgil looked at Patton with a lopsided grin. “Wait, what? You, not having the energy to do something? How’d that happen?”

“Ah right, you weren’t here for uh … all of that. Let’s just say I was recovering from an injury I got several months ago,” Patton said, instantly noting the worried change in Virgil’s expression. “Hold on, it’s alright, I’m alright now, see?” He lifted his shirt to showcase the few tiny cracks that remained. “I’m almost completely healed. Logan even gave me his seal of approval!” He pulled out a little medallion with Logan’s bespectacled brain signet on it. “See?”

Virgil breathed out a visible sigh of relief. He shook a finger at Patton. “Awesome,” he said, his voice cracking a little at the end.

“Alright, so you said you were looking for …” Patton started.

“… this one angsty poem Thomas wrote in high school. I thought I’d uh, spice the ruminating up a little when Thomas heads to bed tonight,” Virgil replied. “No better way to fall asleep than thinking about everything that’s gone wrong or that will go wrong, am I right?”

Patton smiled. “Sure, kiddo, as long as they’re balanced with happier thoughts during the daytime! Let’s see, I think what you’re looking for is over here.” He ran toward his version of the staircase that was piled high with boxes and other larger memorabilia that wouldn’t fit on the bookshelf. He glanced through a few of them, perking up a little when he came to the box on the fourth stair. “I think this is it!” He grabbed the box and ran back to Virgil.

“Keep them as long as you need them,” Patton said with a smile. He handed it over to Virgil, who nearly doubled over from the weight of the things inside. Virgil choked out a thanks and quickly sank out.

“Well, that’s one box temporarily dealt with. Now, about the rest of this marvelous mountain of memories …” Patton, though he would never outrightly admit it, didn’t like moving things around very much. It filled him with dread just thinking about moving something somewhere he would inevitably forget about it. Maybe it would be better to start smaller? He looked around for somewhere less cluttered to start. Finally, his eyes landed on the overflowing box labeled New Memories. “That’ll do for now.” He took the box carefully upstairs to his bedroom and got to work sorting its contents.

In around half an hour, everything was categorized into neat little piles that could be easily transferred to other more fitting storage spaces. Patton began collecting everything from the Friends and Coworkers pile and carried them to his dresser. The top drawer was for everything related to Joan. Admittedly, this one was getting a little bloated from all the fun stuff they and Thomas had ever done together. Still, Patton managed to find space for the newer memories in the crevices that remained. The rest made their way into their respective drawers, packed in tightly with all the rest of them.

Patton closed the drawers, smiled, and put his hands on his hips. “Perfect!” he said. Now all that was left was to take the box back to his version of the living room. He picked the box up and startled when it hissed at him. Something was still in there. He peeked into the box at the thing that had just slid toward him, an upside-down picture frame from the looks of it. Steadying the box with one hand, he reached in and flipped it over.

The last memory he had of Thomas’s now ex-boyfriend stared up at him from the bottom of the box.

His hands trembled a little as he stared at this frighteningly still image. “Nope nope nope, not today,” he said, closing the box and walking as quickly as he could to put it back where it belonged. Despite ridding himself of the visual, this memory was still going to make itself heard in the only way it knew how. Patton clutched at his chest hard and the box crashed to the living room floor. “N-not again …”

He sat down on the stairs a moment to regain control of his breathing. Searing lines thrummed in time with his heartbeat, dulled but not forgotten. This was another reason why he never bothered to clean up: too much of a chance to reopen old wounds. Patton rose with a wince to get that recording of the Rainforest Rap. That song always helped cheer him up. He kept the song on repeat until he felt some semblance of normalcy again.

For the rest of the week, Patton lay awake during the nights, praying that the darkness would somehow take away the memories that hurt him so. It, as many spectral entities do, provided no such reprieve. Certainly not enough to quell the ache settling further into his core as the days passed. Taking liberties in his duties here and there made things far more manageable. Just yesterday, Patton suggested Thomas indulge in a half a pack of Oreos and he listened. The day before, he had come thiiiiiis close to getting an actual bouncy castle! And today, Patton had one little plan he thought everyone would jump for (but not in a bouncy castle).

If everything went according to Patton’s plan, they would spend the next 48 hours rewatching The Office in a blanket fort with Thomas’s closest friends. They could all use a break right about now, what with Roman steamrolling through coming up with new concepts, Logan pulling all-nighters researching for new videos, and Virgil making sure everyone was staying on time with Logan’s schedule. He couldn’t wait to see how everyone else liked this idea! He was already out the door and nearly to the stairs when he heard muffled shouting coming from the living room below.

“—not seriously thinking of going along with this latest plan, are you? I have far too much to plan if we’re to keep this project at its utmost quality!”

Patton stopped dead in his tracks at the top of the stairs.

“I know, Roman, I’m concerned about this, too. We’re woefully behind schedule as it is,” Logan added. “If we don’t do something about this, my carefully constructed calendar will collapse under the weight of his impulse decisions.”

“But how are we even supposed to bring that up to him? He’s been acting weird all week, I know,” Virgil bit, “but you know how Pat takes these things, L.” Patton bit his lip to keep from making noise as the cracks grew once more.

“The best way to do that is to do like you said earlier Virgil, rip it off like a metaphorical Bandaid. This isn’t the first time we’ve had to do this.”

So. Patton had gone overboard these past few days with his contributions.

How many other times had he put the other sides in this exact same situation? They were all supposed to be in this together. Weren’t they …?

There was only one way to fix this. Fixing his cardigan and his expression, Patton plodded heavily down the stairs to announce his arrival. “Hey kiddos! Oh, good, you’re all here together, that’ll save me a few trips back upstairs,” he said cheerily.

“Don’t tell us, Padre, you have another idea?” Roman asked. His smile looked so forced.

“Kinda! So I was just thinking that since we are so behind schedule, a 2 day binge-fest might not be the greatest idea I’ve come up with. So instead of that, how about we work on this next concept together tonight?”

Jaws all around the room dropped. “Wait, what? I thought …” said Virgil, looking to the others.

Roman picked up where Virgil left off, “Patton, I believe that’s the best idea you’ve had all week!” He stepped closer. “How shall we go about it? At the dumb boring regular table here, or at the Round Table in the Imagination to help stimulate all the best thoughts?”

“Hmm, that’s intriguing, Roman. It would certainly be easier than trying to keep track of all our thoughts on paper,” Logan added.

“Hey Logan, I guess you say it’s a …” Patton started.

Logan’s eyes widened. “No.”

“Oh, this’ll be good,” Virgil snickered.

“… well-Round-ed idea,” said Patton.

Virgil and Roman couldn’t help smiling watching this play out. Logan groaned. “I will ignore that this one time because you made a worthwhile effort to get us back on schedule, but I do hope that you’ll spend a little more time thinking about what words you want to arrange in a sentence. And make them less … pun-filled.”

“I’ll try not to have too much pun, but I can’t make any promises!” Patton said.

Logan said nothing further, opting instead to vacate the premises as quickly as possible. “I’ll uh, go with him and we’ll get everything set up in the Imagination,” said Roman, running after him.

“Well, I guess that just leaves you and me, kiddo! Whaddaya say we make some snacks for everyone? We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us today!”

Virgil nodded. “As long as I can spit on something meant for Roman,” he said.

“I’ll let you have the cookie batter bowl,” Patton replied.

“Deal.”

Between the two of them, Patton and Virgil were able to make somewhat quick work of a heaping plate of hot cookies and several plates of sandwiches for everyone to enjoy. Sure, they may have gotten more flour and other assorted foodstuffs on them than into the finished products on the counter, but it was the fun they had doing it that mattered. Both of them decided that it would be best to change out of their dirty clothes before carrying everything into the Imagination.

Patton sunk into his version of the kitchen, which was considerably more cluttered than the common area kitchen. He stepped over a few stray memories before making it into the clearer living room. That was when he noticed Deceit sitting on his couch worrying his gloved hands. Softly, Patton called out, “Dee?”

Deceit startled and turned quickly to see Patton. “Um,” he said, clearing his throat and brushing down the front of his cloak, “you certainly didn’t sneak up on me.”

“What brings you back to my neck of the ‘burbs?” asked Patton.

Deceit stood from the couch. “We’re just getting so well acquainted that I thought I’d stop by for tea— and to give a warning. I know they’ve been growing again.”

Patton smiled sadly. “I guess I can’t really hide this from you. But you should know, this time—”

“It’s not their fault, I’m well aware. But doesn’t this make it the best time to tell them? The pressure is off. You don’t even have to tell them in a direct way!” Deceit said, taking Patton’s hands in his own. His eyes were alight with worry. “You just need to tell them.”

“I know I need to, but … it’s so hard to do. I’d be hurting them, I know I would.”

Deceit looked down and sighed. He brought his gaze quickly back up to Patton’s, staring with an intensity that Patton had never seen from him before. “You need to tell them,” he whispered slowly. “I saw something on the horizon. Something bad. As much as it pains me to say it, I don’t want that vision to be about you.”

That was a bit startling. Patton knew it wouldn’t get that far, but … could it? “Okay,” he said. “I’ll tell them.” That earned him a split-second smile from Deceit.

“That’ll do, Patton. That’ll do. What in the world is on my gloves?” Deceit said, sinking out.

“Cookie dough!” Patton called after him. “And probably some mayo. Oh, he probably didn’t hear me. Now what was I doing again? Oh yeah, clothes, brainstorming, Imagination!” He quickly ran upstairs to the bathroom to get changed and emerged from his room less than a minute later and grabbed what food Virgil hadn’t. Maybe if he busied himself enough, he would be able to forget Deceit’s visit. He wouldn’t think about the panic behind his crumbling facade, or the thinly veiled pleas he made.

But that would all be a lie. Something had him deeply troubled, and when Deceit was the one giving out a warning in earnest, it bode better to listen. But how to go about it? Patton sighed. “Alright, Patton, let’s just focus on getting to the others right now,” he said to himself. He closed his eyes and thought about the others, and about castles, knights, and everything that made Roman happy.

When he opened them again, he was in the Imagination.

Or rather, he was in a field in the Imagination, right in front of Roman’s towering castle. It was a perfect amalgamation of Gothic architecture and pure Disney magic that made Patton’s nostalgia meter burst through the roof. He ran through the front gates with appropriate gusto and was thrilled to see the others there around the table already, quietly chatting amongst themselves. “Ah, Patton, we were starting to think you forgot how to get here again. Come, let us formally begin this brainstorming bash!” Roman said cheerily.

“That’s the spirit!” Patton squealed, trying to sound as normal as possible. He set down the cookie platter and took a seat in the high-backed chair with his new symbol on it.

“First things first, let’s make sure we’re all on the same page before we begin,” Logan said, summoning papers for all of them. “In order to maximize our output, Roman, Virgil, and I have decided to remove some of the thought filters from the castle for this session. This means that any particular thought, if it’s focused enough, will manifest in here for all of us to review. According to my own independent research, this should boost our productivity by 42% with a .03% margin of error.”

Patton’s eyes widened a little. He really didn’t want to interrupt their work, but this new system would definitely cause problems if he didn’t come clean now. So, Patton gathered every last bit of gumption that he had and shouted, “I have a confession to make!”

The others backed up a little, startled that Patton could be so loud, but quickly recomposed themselves. “Go ahead, Patton,” said Logan, straightening his tie.

Patton thanked him, doing his best to not squirm in his seat. He knew they wouldn’t react well, but maybe saying it now would keep thoughts about it from popping up later. “I uh, wanted to get this out of the way before we get down to business. But um … I think I might be breaking again.”

“Come again?” Virgil asked.

Patton slid the collar of his shirt down enough to reveal several deep fissures. “These things. They’re growing again,” he said. “Started earlier this week. I just didn’t want that popping up without warning and ruining our work. Anyways, um, what ideas are we working with here, Roman?”

“Wait, breaking? Like, breaking breaking? Oh God, Patton, are you dying? You’re dying, aren’t you? Oh God, no! What stops death?! Logan?!” Virgil cried frantically.

Patton quickly said, “Virgil, Virgil, breathe, I’m not dying. In for four seconds, there you go, hold it for seven seconds. You’re doing great. Just listen to the sound of my voice. Out for eight. Good job, keep it up.”

Logan got out a pen and notepad. “Again? And you say they started earlier this week? Do you remember which day it was?” he asked.

“The day I started cleaning up my room. Uh, what day was that again?” Patton said, still doing his best to softly coach Virgil back down to a calmer state.

“Padre … I thought there weren’t going to be any more secrets about this,” said Roman. The hurt look he gave to Patton about killed him where he sat.

“It wasn’t so much a secret as it was an ‘I-got-a-little-busy-and-kept-forgetting’ kind of thing. I never meant to keep it from you, any of you,” Patton replied. A tiny, glowing orb dripped from Patton’s chest. A thought. He pushed it down between his hand and the seat to trap it, knowing that it would unveil his lie. For good measure, he slung a leg over his hand.

“You were cleaning that day…” Logan mused. “I may have some theories that explain this phenomenon, though it is currently up to speculation. Allow me to elaborate. Patton, it seems that stressing yourself beyond your limits could potentially be the cause of this. You have certainly been going out of your way with your work this week. I believe we all recall the … bouncy castle idea. This could be leading to a lack of self-care needed to perform adequately.”

Patton nodded slowly with as real a smile as he could muster. “Yyyyyeah, that could be it,” he said, shoving down another treacherous thought as it popped out. It brought up memories of all the passing comments Logan made about his character.

“Uh, Pops? Whatcha … doin’ over there?” Virgil asked.

Patton stiffened. “Nothing, just, uh … Practicing a new kind of exercise?” Another one flitted out, pointing to being too overbearing with Virgil. “Hey, is that a dragon coming up to the castle?”

Everyone turned to look while Patton conjured a slingshot, flung that icky thought out the other window. and recaptured the one that had come out from beneath his leg.

“No, that’s a tapestry, Padre. It literally couldn’t hurt you if it wanted to,” Roman said. “Not that I would ever let it!”

Patton smiled. “You’re my hero, Roman,” he said.

Roman blushed a little to that. “Aw, Pat,” he gushed.

Another thought came up, a memory of a time Roman had taken him on one of his adventures. He had wanted to tend to a little wounded animal they came across and nearly got them killed because of it. Patton clapped his hand painfully over his heart to keep that one from surfacing. With a whimper and a slight grimace, he replied, “I mean it, Ro.”

Virgil was getting extremely antsy where he sat. “Okay, um … This is weird, right? Like, this just feels wrong.”

“Virgil has a point, you are behaving rather strangely, Patton,” said Logan. “Do you have something you’d like to add?”

With the focus being on what started this, another memory surfaced. The one that had started it again. Patton tried to bite that one as it meandered past. Curse these full hands! He missed by a mile, leaving it to float effortlessly to the center of the table.

“A thought?” Logan said. “Unconventional, but it’s an intriguing choice.”

It began to play. Patton was in his room, sorting through the new memories box. The last few were being tucked away. It skipped to him looking back in the box to see what was left. It showed him, holding the picture. Him, clutching his chest. Him, stumbling to the floor. As if on cue, the cracks thrummed in recognition. Thank goodness he already had a hand over them because it almost took his breath away. The memory evaporated, leaving the others to simply look with jaws slightly agape.

Patton could only look down at the table. These old wounds were reopening in the worst of ways, and now his closest friends would find out the truth. Logan finally broke the silence. “So, that’s how it happened.”

Patton nodded wordlessly.

“This was months ago,” Logan said.

“It was a busy time for me,” Virgil added. “Switching from everything Thomas did wrong to worrying that Thomas will never find love again got to be so exhausting.”

“I admit even I became a bit disheveled by his absence,” Logan said, looking down.

“I nearly ducked out over this. I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you, Patton,” said Roman.

Patton still couldn’t bring himself to look up. He knew there were pent up tears threatening to fall if he did. “It … it was hard … and seeing a reminder of it …” he whispered.

Logan sighed. “I believe your best course of action is clear,” he said. “You simply need to let the past be the past.”

“But … what about all of the good times we had with him? I don’t want to leave them behind,” Patton said softly.

“Patton, these memories are physically hurting you. I can’t understand why you would rather suffer endlessly instead of just letting one person go.”

You’re too sentimental to save yourself from dying.

Patton’s face contorted and a small whine escaped his throat. Those insidious cracks lengthened once more, each one feeling like a knife tracing its way through his skin.

Roman stood abruptly. “Now look what you’ve done, Quantum of Soulless!” Roman cried, motioning to Patton. Logan rose from his seat, trying to get a better look from across the table.

“Roman …” Patton lightly scolded. “Pl-please be nice.”

Roman huffed. “Sorry. What I mean is this situation needs a bit more delicacy than Logan’s robotic demeanor could ever hope to provide.” Roman walked over to Patton and put a hand gently on his arm. Logan was making his way over, too, notepad in hand. “Now Padre, you know how much I came to you when this was all fresh. We did our best to hold each other up, but even now, I still feel lost. I can’t tell you how much I yearn to have our beloved return, or how much I want to call him after all this time.”

Patton sniffled a little, putting his hand over Roman’s and leaning his head against his arm. “I know, I want him back too,” he said.

“I think we all do. But I think it might also be time to start boxing up some of those old memories. We can even help you start!” Roman said. Virgil shook his head. Logan rolled his eyes. “Okay, I can help you start.”

“But I don’t want to forget … I wouldn’t even know where, or how, to start. We had so many good memories together that I don’t want to lose,” Patton blubbered.

“I know it’s difficult, but we aren’t children anymore, Padre. I know the relationship ending was for the best and I’ve been striving every day to remain strong. I also know that you wouldn’t be leaving everything behind if you do the adult thing and let the ghosts of the past go.”

You’re too naive to understand what needs to be done.

Patton doubled over, groaning as the cracks split further down his limbs and up his neck. Bile burned at the back of his throat, and he could taste the coppery twang of essence. He felt another wary hand on him. “P-Pops?” came Virgil’s wavering voice. “I… Thomas was being too overbearing. That wasn’t your fault!”

YOU were being too overbearing. YOU were what drove him away.

Patton cried out in agony as his skin split down to his fingertips and over his face to the top of his head. Small chips of skin were beginning to fall away with tiny tinks as they hit the floor, displaying the bright blue beneath. He could feel the front of his shirt begin to dampen.

“I don’t get it! We’re trying to help, why isn’t this working?” Virgil cried. “Why are they getting worse?!”

Logan came up to Patton, attempting to lean him back with utmost care. “Perhaps just talking about the subject of his pain is what’s causing them to worsen,” he said. As soon as he looked at the frail fatherly side, his demeanor changed. “Virgil, get a first aid kit. Roman, help me lay him on the table. Now!”

The others, at first too stunned to move, burst into action as quickly as they could. Patton screamed as they repositioned him on the table, hyperventilating from the pain. “Hang in there, Padre, please hang in there!” came Roman’s muffled voice. Logan was reaching for the hem of his shirt. He mouthed something to him. Patton felt something glide across his skin from his navel to his neck. Wait, when did Logan get scissors? And where was his shirt? And why did the others look so horrified? Those questions seemed inconsequential to the truth staring down at Patton, demanding he tell it.

“It w-was my fault,” Patton croaked.

Logan started threading a needle. Virgil was carding his fingers through Patton’s hair anxiously. Roman looked at him with incredulous eyes. “What are you talking about?” asked Roman.

“Th-the breakup,” Patton replied. Warmth was trickling down over his ribcage and soaking his back. “A-and everything e-else.” Logan tried his best to stick the needle through solid skin, but it just chipped further. Patton coughed, a bit of blue making its way past his lips.

“Everything else? Patton, you’re not making sense,” Logan said, trying the same thing again with the same result.

Patton whimpered, “I-I know that I’m always … messing th-things up. I forget s-so much … I kn-know that you think I’m t-too sentimental t-to do my job. Th-that I’m too … naive t-to see the truth right in … front of me. That I’m s-so over … o-overbearing that I drove him away. If it w-weren’t for … all of you t-to rein me in … I-I’d make Thomas into a… w-worthless mass of a man.”

You are worthless.

“C-Compression. Let’s try compression,” Logan said.

“Pat … is this … is this what caused all of this?” Roman asked. His eyes shimmered.

“You can’t seriously think that,” Virgil said, his hands becoming shaky.

Patton cried as Logan pressed firmly in the center of his chest. More fragments broke free and with them, Logan’s hands went straight through into Patton’s chest. Patton nearly passed out. Logan quickly withdrew his hands.

“Ohhhh my God, oh my God, Logan, what did you do?!” shouted Virgil. “What do we do now?!”

Patton coughed violently, essence spluttering from his lips in a steady stream.

Logan could only stand there, frozen in horror, staring at his blue hands.

“Logan?!” Roman cried.

“I … I don’t know …” came Logan’s voice, barely above a whisper. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks.

“You can’t die on us, Patton, please, we need you!” Virgil sobbed.

Roman grasped Patton’s hand delicately. It began to shatter like porcelain barely held together. Despite the jagged edges, Roman still lifted it to his cheek, holding on like it was the only anchor in a violent sea. “Y-you’ll … all be … alright … without me … Just … p-promise me … y-you won’t … blame yourselves …” Patton gasped.

He couldn’t hold it together when bigger pieces of him began breaking away from the rest of his body. He couldn’t scream. He couldn’t hear.

He couldn’t see. But still, his mouth made the words.

“I… l-love… you.”

With a final shuddering breath, he was gone.

---

Janus knew that meddling with what his foresight told him never aided the outcome.

He knew this, but he tried anyway.

It wasn’t that he particularly liked Patton. He found him to be overly saccharine and ridiculously optimistic in the face of surefire doom, not to mention he stood by socks and sandals as a fashion choice. However, things always seemed to run smoother in the Mindscape with the fatherly side around. Someone had to be there to tend to the others and moderate their senseless bickering, he supposed. How would anyone get any sleep otherwise? And Patton wasn’t one to pass judgement when he was caught alone. Perhaps his near-blind acceptance was what endeared Janus to him in the first place.

Whatever the case, he didn’t want whatever was going to happen to go through like it wanted to. He could never determine much from these visions. Just … feelings. Notions. The occasional coherent thought. This most recent one should’ve been par for the course. Nothing could’ve prepared him for what came. He couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was being ripped apart. And there was nothing else around but the pain, searing a fiery blue, and those three intrepid words.

I love you.

A swan song if there ever was one. And now, standing here amongst the shadows outside Roman’s castle, he knew the swan had sung.

Taglist: @celeste-tyrrell @taxicabinmemphis @angeldiaries @somehow-i-got-an-account

#atlas writes #patton angst #sanders sides angst #shatter me #patton sanders #character death tw #are y'all ready to stone me to death yet?#shatter me story

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grumpygreenwitch · 4 years

Text

Summer Gardening.

So it’s been a while, and for that I apologize to the... 200+ people who follow me. I’m sure y’all are here for the cat pics and the nekked men, but TOO BAD. Today you get to suffer through pics of my green children. Also, I do share seed. My seed list link will be up later in the year. To begin with, the summer flowers are out en force:

Echinacea Purpurea, the original echinacea. I do save yearly seed from these guys, although it’s an incredibly pointy, stabby and bleed-y job.

Mountain Phlox. Unfortunately, all of it around the house is afflicted with powdery mildew, so I will not share seed. But it’s still pretty to look at, and the clearwings (hummingbird moths) love it. Not pictured is the white variant, who grows on the other side of the house. Look, it was hot and I was already melting.

Peppermint Balsam. This thing is basically indestructible, for an annual. It will reseed freely (to truly Lovecraftian levels) and blooms continuously from late spring until mid-fall, when the seed-pods set. There is a dormant genetic in it for double flowers, but when it pops up it’s always been sterile. It just pops up occasionally from the peppermint seed.

I may give the roommate hell over the hostas (I hate them. They’re so useful to protect toads and control weeds, but I hate them), but they do put out pretty flowers. There are several variants around the house - white-edged, blue and green, but hostas in general are very, very hard to start from seed. I will save it on request, only. We were also incredibly lucky to have a Moth Mullein sprout in our porch bed, along with some Variegated Solomon’s Seal.The SS doesn’t put out seeds, and I don’t have enough to share bulbs (yet), but the mullein has been exceptionally generous with seed pods, and it repels bugs. It repels ROACHES. It’s going everywhere. And I may be convinced to part with some seed.

Onward!

A view from a hill. Can you see the garden? That’s OK, I can’t either. Those are peach trees, on the side of the orchard closest to the house. Unfortunately a freak storm during early spring killed all the blossoms. Also, don’t mistake ‘orchard’ for ‘organized’. There’s a pear, some apples, a plum, some nectarines? And front and center are two walnuts. I’ll probably be plunking my laurel there to see if it survives winter. And someday when I have a job and money again, I would like to drop a few Chicago Hardy figs, and maybe a kiwi trellis.

This is the big garden (and fortunately not my responsibility, or I would cry). The guys are ‘handling’ it. The weeds say otherwise.

The jasmine tree and the roommate’s garden. Because of a bad back injury that refuses to heal, I’ve been helping them on and off with it. And if you thought jasmine was supposed to stay a delightful little bush, AHAHAHAHAH. Yes, that’s a light-post next to it. For size comparison.

MY CHILDREN. Please ignore the dead soccer ball. That’d be a dog toy.

Lemon balm, amaranth, and a new bed that I’ll be finishing off during fall, for use next year. The lemon balm is a permanent row - it will overwinter just fine, and it will even keep growing through the mildest part of December. Mine didn’t die back until a few solid days of sleet in January. Unfortunately the weed fabric under the amaranth turned out to be an old roll, and fell apart on me (no big, the whole point is for it to fall apart eventually), so the weeds have kinda eaten it alive.

Unfortunately, both cucumber beetles and blister beetles love the amaranth. Fortunately, it does not seem to give a damn. It’s an incredibly resilient plant, not minding weeds, bugs, flood or drought. We’ll see what the grain actually tastes like, but so far it’s looking like a good candidate for continuous growing.

The lemon balm is lemon-balming. Planted on a lark, it’s proven to be a fantastic wind-breaker - because it grows so early and so quick, it keeps the colder winds that come down through the hollow from my more fragile seedlings, like the lettuce, dill and cilantro. You can see here where the spent flower-heads are dying but there’s new growth underneath; I really have to get in there and behead it. It makes nice hot tea, meh cold tea, and hanging fresh bunches of it around the balcony keeps the skeeters off. It also seems to be a decoy for cabbage moths.

Canary Zinnia. The seed was sent to me as a gift with one of my seed orders, and this is my first year growing it. -If- I can save some, I’ll definitely be sharing and growing again. It’s a lovely plant, very sturdy, and the bees love it.

Dwarf Castor Oil. I don’t think there’s anything dwarf about it, but then I’m a short green witch myself, so maybe it’s all about perspective. Don’t let the pods lie to you, until they dry the spikes are relatively soft. However, it being castor oil, I don’t recommend it to anyone with ducks, chickens, goats, or anything that might accidentally try talking a nibble or pecking at the beans. I do, however, recommend them from jewelry if you know how to pierce things and so on. They are a gorgeous tiger-stripe pattern.

Say hello to the chard! Say goodbye to the chard! Nothing else, absolutely nothing else since the limas, has given me so much trouble. The deer love getting into my chard bed and destroying it (ergo all the forks). And once I managed to chase those off, the blister beetles showed up in force. This will be the last year I grow it - we just don’t eat enough of it to make it worth my while, and it only occasionally sold at the Farmers’ Market.

Red lettuce - Merlot and Lollo Vino, a combination of bought and saved seed. I planted a red romaine of some sort, too, but unsurprisingly it bolted in the heat. The darker reds of my favorites, though, keep bugs off them, keep deer from noticing them, and keep them from bolting. It’s just now threatening to, and at this point its kind of allowed. I need more seed for next year. Seed for this will likely be shared by the teaspoon-ful.

Calendula! I searched for a long time to find the plain ol’ calendula officinalis ancestor, rather than a cultivar where I would have no way of knowing if the medicinal principles would have been sacrificed for looks. It’s supposed to work well as poor man’s saffron (color, no taste), and I’m going to be soaking the heck outta my feet on it during winter. The plant is... not pretty. It gets leggy and the leaves get grotty very quickly. But it’s very sturdy and as long as you cut the flowerheads off as fast as you can, it’ll keep blooming until well into winter. I usually leave it to go to seed around late September.

Green cilantro seeds. You pick ‘em when they’re brown, but before they drop off the plant. Or you pick ‘em when they’re brown-ing, and put them in a paper bag so they’ll finish ripening there and you don’t end up with fifty wild cilantro plants in your garden >_> Most of the row is already gone, and I’ll be putting in a late dill crop in its place. No such thing as too much dill!

Don’t let lemongrass lie to you. Unless you tie it up, it will not grow up neat and tidy, as most grass does. Instead it will sprawl like a dramatic wilting Elizabethan lady and do its best to end up under your feet so you’ll feel bad about it. I just tie it up with a half-blade of grass; it dries up and withers away before it can hurt the plant.

I ordered pennyroyal seed because... Well, because it’s something one should have on hand, considering the way the world is going. What I got was Creeping Pennyroyal, which doesn’t care if you step on it (mint family), smells absolutely delightful, and has the most adorable, tiny purple flowers. I plan on harvesting, drying and sprinkling it everywhere in the crawlspace under the house. Making war on cave crickets, wood roaches, and other such sundries, me.

The thyme and Spicy Oregano took a beating in the heat, but they’re slowly bouncing back. The bed behind them is more pennyroyal, desperately in need of weeding, but there’s only one of me, y’know.

SIGH. Just. You absolute, ill-mannered monster of a creature. That would be horseradish, gloriously happy to be alive, as horseradish should be. Also, NOT IN ITS BASKET. Because never mind the rules, I guess.

I don’t even know how I’m gonna dig that up come winter. With some construction equipment, I GUESS.

Decorative gourd! It’s the only one producing so far, but being the seed was 10+ years old, I’m very pleased.

And an apple gourd (I think?), from a mixture of drying gourds that was only slightly less ancient. Snake, apple and birdhouse gourds. There’s a bunch of them competing in the basket at this point, we’ll see what we will see.

And this, I think, is a great use of a dead canopy frame (the dogs ate the canopy. No, I’m not making it up.) I hope to coax the gourds to grow me a lil’ roof so I can sit in shade, surrounded by pennyroyal anti-skeeter barriers, eating my maters.

My Peter Peppers (nrehehehehe) aren’t producing yet - it takes them a while. But my Chinese 5-Color are getting started. It’s a lovely pepper, both edible and ornamental, with (so I’m told) about four times the heat of a Jalapeno. They’re tiny, with deep purple undertones to the plant. They’ll go purple-white-yellow-orange-red.

The bullhorns, on the other hand, are fairly sizable SWEET peppers on very tiny plants, and I honestly suggest staking them while they’re young so they grow a sturdy trunk, else you might end up with all of them growing at a slant.They’re just now beginning to turn colors. Keeping in mind I’m virulently allergic to peppers (less so sweet than hot, but allergic to all of them), the roommate loves ‘em.

It’s a small pepper bed - mainly to refresh my seed on the hots, and to grow sweets for the roommate. Pardon the nekked bed, the autumn lettuce hasn’t sprouted yet. And yes, that’s a mixed basil/dill bed next to it. My basil grew in patchy holes (NEVER buying from those seed people again), so I filled the holes with dill. Unfortunately, dill seed heads are so fine that they’re hard to photograph well.

The tomato row. After arguing with them for this long, I went the extra mile. Every plant has a metal stake. There’s also a double line growing at the top supporting the stakes so they don’t fall over. And they still fell over. Because why not, you unruly children, why not.

Green, white, pink and brown cherry tomatoes. Delicious!

Two kinds of cucumbers, some of the only decent shots of the dill seed-heads, and a special guest hiding in the shade. I usually plant dill as soon as the cucumber sprouts, to keep cucumber beetles off it. Otherwise I’d have no cucumbers and a lot of fat beetles.

The Muncher is a small cucumber, somewhat delicate. It’s very sensitive to temperature changes, and it’s candy to cucumber beetles - basically, it’s impossible to grow it without a heavy curtain of dill, or a heavy duty decoy. This year I got lucky enough to have both. It’s also delicious pickled, keeping its crunch and getting a good ooomph in flavor.

The Japanese Long is, as the name implies, long. It’s also incredibly bitey, and absolutely scrumptious. It’s sweet! And unlike the average cucumber, it does not go metallic when salted.

And now for the SPECIAL CHILD OF MY HEART. Seriously. I have been lusting after Blue Tea Peas since I first saw them offered, and every single time they’d be sold out pretty much the day of. This year I finally got some and... remember me mentioning that freak freeze that killed the peach blossoms? Yeah. Guess what it also killed. But two plants soldiered on. I have them heavily shielded by the cucumbers, dill and chamomile, and really I have no words for the blue. Pics don’t do it justice. I won’t have the tea this year, I’m saving as much seed as I can, but I am so pleased to have it at all!

Last, but not least, and it’s a poor shot of it, the chamomile. I cannot drink chamomile to sleep - it does put me to sleep, but it also gives me bad dreams. I plan on using it as a skin wash for all the bug bites, along with the calendula, and to give me some respite from dry skin during winter.

Stay green! See you in fall! Now back to our normal schedule of frogs, cats and nekked men!

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defeatedbyamerechild · 4 years

Photo

Here is my evil team organization. Remember the droog and child evil team, I asked that. So here is my grunts for Team Myriad. These children are obsessed with fighting trainers and never talk at all. Speak in rhynmes or numbers. Well sometimes but not often. Are they friend or foe?

“These child like grunts have mysteriously appeared in the Galar region. Their motivations and faces are unknown. The thing they love the most is pokemon battling.” Utilize in normal, fairy, psychic, and steel. But will use other types if they have to.

So do you like this concept? Also any criticisms for my drawing or improvements. Like their appearance, looks, or design? Would this be an interesting team?

PS I wonder how the pokevillains would react to this team. Intrigued or confused? Love your blog.

----------

I forgot about this sorry!!! I saw it the other day and forgot to reply.

Anyways, I really like the designs you have there and I can definitely see the inspiration from the Clockwork Orange aesthetics there. I like that they don’t talk and use rhymes, this is cool dialogue. It is, to me, relatively hard to picture it in an official Pokémon game because I don’t think Nintendo would want it to look too creepy and I can definitely picture this content in a creepy pasta aesthetic that I... don’t think Nintendo would wanna approach. It would be doable, though. And of course, as fan-content, even the creepy pasta style or other horror-related styles are valid. Anyway, it’s a versatile concept that could be used in many ways from just mysterious to actually scary.

I really like the masks, at first I was a bit confused because I thought these were their faces, before reading what you wrote there, but as masks these are neat. Also they are something I can see Nintendo going for, I mean, they literally gave Allister a creepy mask so why not?

Overall, yes, I like it! The concept is neat! As a basic premise for a team that works well for me, even if their goals are unclear. You are basically making the “unclearness” part of the concept. Also really like how you wrote their description in a Pokédex-style, like... the text really reminds me of Pokémon stuff. :3

The only thing I’m still kinda curious about is how this could be developped in order to remain interesting throughout the whole game/story (if a game/story were to be made with it of course), because in terms of narrative, just “it’s a mystery” with no further development can become rather boring or repetitive, or seem kinda disconnected from the rest of the narrated events (depending on how it’s done). Also it could be a problem if the mysterious events are not explained *at all* in the end (half-explained and up to interpretation endinds are good alternatives in my view, but, at least for me, “we’ll never know who they were after all” tends to be a disappointing ending).

Basically, I like the overall idea you gave me, there’s nothing here that I think is a bad idea, but I would find it hard to use if I were to make my own story with them because of the problems above. Maybe you have all that in mind and you already have a superb story with them that works perfectly well, in that case, great, I just wanted to mention what I thought of the concept in practical terms as a (bad) fanfiction writter. XD

BUUUUUUT of course I’m not the executive producer of Game Freak receiving the concept for the next game that I should review or anything, so all this is irrelevant. Even if you didn’t develop their story any further, that’s totally fine. You don’t even have the obligation of thinking this through and answering these questions, you can definitely just make your concept and visuals and not actually use it in a game/fanfiction/comic etc, that is perfectly ok. I’m just a boring person graduated in Language Arts that will go and make boring analysis of stuff. XD

About the art... I think it looks really cute! I don’t wanna go and criticize stuff based on style, like “the heads are too big, limbs are too thin” or something like this, because this is just your style. It’s an aesthetic choice. I could say that the heads are larger than what they usually are in Pokémon games, but honestly, so what? You don’t have to emulate the Pokémon style in order to create Pokémon content. So yeah, you can play with proportions as much as you want and since the drawings seem consistent in terms of symetry and style, that’s just ok.

That said, my only criticism might be...

1. The female grunt’s legs seem a bit too long (even considering the stylistic choices, I’m comparing her body proportions to that of the male grunt). Basically, if you put that same lenght of skirt on the male grunt’s body, it would go down to his socks, but on her she still has the same amount of skin + socks + boots under all that, you see? So maybe make her skirt shorter or make her boots and socks shorter... Or give up on showing parts of skin. It’s easy to lose the sense of proportions under loose clothes like skirts, but if you trace the body silhouette under her skirt, that will probably become clearer. It’s always nice to try and make a full silhouette or skeleton before drawing clothes, in my opinion. (Also this could have resulted from the angle you took the picture! could be just a distortion on the photo that made it look different, so if that’s the case, ignore this XD)

2. This could be a stylistic choice too, but I’m gonna mention it just in case, the limbs look kinda “noodle-ish”. This can also influence your measurement of body proportions like “where exactly does the arm bend”, “where exactly is the knee”, this sort of thing... Of course, as I said, it could just be style, like Adventure Time, for example. They just have those noodle arms. But since I don’t know if that was a conscious choice or not, I decided to mention. Lots of people (including younger me) start by drawing arms (and hands!) as a “continuum”, so if the arms are streched, they are just one straight line from shoulder to hand (some people will even make it shoulder to fingers and put the hand in the noodle pack). And if the limbs are bent, the elbows and knees, fingers and wrists, fold in not very precise places. However, I found it easier to draw arms, legs and hands by subdivinding these limbs into smaller sections. It’s easier to keep them proportional and understand how they bend. You made their arms fully stretched in a way where elbows are not visible and, in the girl specifically, seem a little bit short? Again that can defintely be used as stylistic resource, so only consider this tip if you’re aiming for a more realistically-proportional style.

3. You may wanna make the male grunt’s feet a bit larger? Also they are inclined and I don’t know if that was done intentionally or not. (or if it was just the paper bending a bit when you took the pic).

I’m like... not a professional artist or a teacher or anything. I’ve literally never studied art, so when I give out these feedbacks, they are usually based on my own life-experience and what I’ve learned drawing. But it’s always hard to set the line between style and mistakes. I was once told that you must first learn the basics of actually proportional anatomy before you can start playing with it, so when people ask me for tips, I try to stick to the things I’ve learned myself while developing my knowledge in anatomy and proportions. Not that I am like.. an expert, of course. So yeah, basically, don’t take my criticism as the ultimate truth, I’m still just learning just like you. ^^

About suggestions and improvements: Maybe add something to their canes, on the handle part? And maybe adding detail to their boots... But only if you want to of course. Also, have you thought of eyelashes for the masks, like... eyelashes on only one eye or something? This wouldn’t be for the grunts because I think they look great just like that and are already complex enough, but you might wanna use that for admins or something? Specially if it’s eyelashes on the lower half of the eye.

I also would like to say that I couldn’t read everything you wrote, sorry.... I’m bad with handwriting! So forgive me if I said anything redundant that you had already put in the info. ^^

And finally... I don’t usually make reaction things in submissions, only during ask events, so forgive me for not giving you the villains reactions here. I hope you understand. ^^

SORRY FOR THE SUPER LONG REPLY AND FOR THE DELAY, I HOPE YOU FIND WHAT I SAID INTERESTING AND USEFUL MAYBE?

#submission #collab #thanks

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