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#cats just do what da want
majimassqueaktoy · 1 year
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Saejima definitely owns at least one cat (after he's done with all his trips to prison)
he has like an unknown amount of cats off the street he feeds and pets and they follow him into Majima's apartment and after that they just hang around as they please :3
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nulltune · 3 months
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——  hakuno jumpscare !  
( staring ominously at ur muse. )
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poisoned-pearls · 6 months
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”love letter from the sea to the shore,” (Delaney Bailey) and “good old fashioned lover boy,” are azul love songs directed at Jamil but from different ends of the spectrum
#Listen it’s abt the pining#It’s abt the fact that azul wants to see Jamil succeed even if it means without him#It’s about how they’re both from harsh environments that are very difficult or impossible for humans to live in#It’s abt how sand ties them together but is also tied to their impermance#(<- crazed man on his way to say that sand is Jamiazu coded)#And good old fashioned lover boy is just peak dork/nerd azul#Idia and the twins would refer to him as lover boy any time they know he’s abt to ramble abt Jamil for an hour#Jade lowkey adores hearing abt it and is VERY invested in their relationship while the other two would rather know like#Negative ten information abt Azul’s love life#Idia bc he’s like “stop rubbing it in my face” and I million other things (he will still stay and listen bc no one else will play games wit#Him) (fuck the tag character limit me and all of homies hat the character limit)#And Floyd doesn’t want to know bc azul is lowkey still like 12 in his head#Like ‘what do you mean Azul wants to date someone he’s Still A Baby’#(He will get up and leave. Dip. Run away. *insert ‘hit da bricks’ skeleton)#Jade and Floyd are just Azul’s older brothers#They brought a 7 year old octopus to their mom like “can we adopt him we want a new brother”#Like one does with a stray cat#And he’s just been with them ever since#OH maroon is also jamiazu (yes Taylor swift. I have listened to her since I was like 6 it’s just in my dna now)#But like. Azul would be OBSESSED with older etiquette type of stuff#Look at him. That man has read Jane Austen#And watched every period drama under the sun#Every day I make the tags longer than the post#Azujami#jamiazu#ashenviper
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n0ct0urn1quet · 2 years
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@raiden-metal-gear-rising kising u ON THE LIPS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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#i made this meme :]#not my image (obviously. u know thats not my cat KSJDKLG) but i added the silly text heehoo#BUT HEEGHJGHJNJGKE THIS IS ME RN! !!!!!!!! showering u in hugs kisses snugles cuddles etc etc and so on and So Fucking Forth!!!!!#OH i love u so much u are so shaped methinks.............#we shoul!!!!!!!!! video chat aagain maybe!!!!!!!!!!!! ahgh i wish i had my webcam so i didnt have to use my laptop buti dont HAVE it anymor#and i am SOSAD but i wanna video chat again with u bc hrhrgrgrghgr ur prettyyyyyyy ur so preyrtyyyyyyy#either that ooorrrrrrrrrrr u could send me selfies more oftnen that workse too heehoo................................#LITSTEN i jus like seeign ur face oke. u are very veyr very cute!!!!!! and prebby!!!!!!#and ur face? is kisable. and i am going to kis it#literally like a coupl hours ago i was jus layin down n i was just like Wow I Really Fuckign Wana Kis My Gf Rn lke i just#i do not mean jus typing u *mwah* or somethign i mean just like!!!!!!! actulally kissing u in Real Life!!!!!!!#i want to so bad i canot wait to meet u in person in a coupl months and jus!!!!!!!!!!! ghive u the biggest fucgiking kiss ever!!!!!!!!!#cause!!!!!!!! im gonna kis u so sofly!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! an so happily!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#an im gona wake up in ur bed and if i wake up before u do im gonna roll over ontop of u an give u liiiiiitol kises on ur face 2 wake u up..#an i wil kissy u on da n ose an cheek an forhead an when u wake up i wil kis u on da lips!!!!!!!!#an if u wake up before me bro u can do thtate too........... gib me kiseys............. idk if itll wake me up or not bc am a heavy seeper#BUT stil!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! u should!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! jus kis me rn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! awajhwgahjw#i just love u!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! verey verey much#i kno the first coupl hours of today werent very Ebic but........ its oke...... things ar gona b oke i Prommy#Emotions Ar Jus Hard 2 Control but i wil work on it an ill b here if u neede anythimbg... i lub u lots no matter what.......#u my wife!!!!!!!!! u my gf!!!!!!! my she my she my she!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and i just love u lots lots lst :) :) :) :)#im kisy u goodnite!!!!!!!!!!!!! goodnite seepyhead!!!!!!!! get gloopy ooupy sneepys!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! lubvs u :] :] <3333333
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jrwiyuri · 4 months
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Clangen is so fucked up…
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l00katthesky · 8 months
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——-
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soaqrudyz · 29 days
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i like to think another reason soap and ghost trusted each other so quickly is because they could smell the low income upbringing on each other.
ghost was a slum kid through and through, with shoes that felt perpetually too large and cigarette holes through his hand-me-down jackets. if his mum didn’t have time to cook, or if her hands shook too violently to handle silverware, he was the one to scrape together enough passable nutrients to feed tommy, and some nights himself. he was born into back alley business and when his time came, if the worms didn’t get him, the stray cats could feast on his carcass for the next two generations.
soap grew up in a full house. when his da left with that droopy-eyed, pale sack of infections he deemed more important than his wife of seven years and their five children, his mum and older sister were the sole providers in his life. he learned very early on to make do with what he had unless he couldn’t, splitting funds for so many people, along with bills and groceries and clothes and school supplies, was an enormous task that he couldn’t very well make more difficult like the rest of his sisters seemed to want to with a clean conscience.
they both see it instantly — soap, the way ghost refused to ask for anything; and ghost, the way soap only asked for the cheapest, weakest, most useless version of what he needed, still with a guilty bite to his bottom lip. the way they both (metaphorically) lick their plates clean, afraid to waste a single crumb; the way each of them preferred to mend instead of simply buying something new like gaz; the way they both opt for one practical and one frivolous gift each holiday for both useage and enjoyment.
it’s easy to relate to the anxious pinch of eyebrows at the till when you’ve been too involved in financial discussions your whole life, and even easier to remind each other that money wasn’t a problem anymore. soap could remind ghost that he didn’t have to conserve anymore, and ghost could remind soap that he didn’t have to buy scratchy clothes or food brands he didn’t like just because they were cheaper.
and even if ghost didn’t want to ask for something he wanted, soap would get it anyway. and even if soap made a fuss of how much they threw in their cart, ghost would throw more in anyway.
because they can. because no matter their financial worry, they have someone who will understand and make everything feel okay again.
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witchthewriter · 2 months
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Poly141! | Mission Pixie Dust
Okay so... I was making up scenarios in my head as I was falling asleep last night and I made myself cry ... so I obviously had to share...
Poly141; the four men are your husbands and all deployed at the same time, leaving you home with your three kids at the beginning of the school holidays.
This turned out longer than I thought it would but I just had to write it out. I love Poly141 AND them being dads :')
Da = Johnny
Papa = John P.
Dad= Simon
Daddy = Kyle
School holidays had just started, and your three pups were buzzing as soon as they came home. Bags were thrown on the floor, school shoes unlaced and scattered around the shoe stand. They knew the rules, but first day of school holidays meant they were allowed to get a little wild.
Your oldest, Paesha, had just turned eight and her father was obvious. Thick curls, dark skin and warm brown eyes made it plain to see. But all your husbands loved her the same. In fact, she had a special bond with her Da (Johnny).
Malachai, your second, could have been any of the three other men's. Light brown hair, fair complection, and utterly/overly protective of his sisters. He had been born a year after Pae.
And your youngest, Felicity (known as Flick), had started her first year in big school. She was known for having exceptional blue eyes.
None of your husbands wanted a DNA test, they thought it useless because everyone treats the children with the same love, compassion and warmth.
Throwing your keys on the counter (Paesha picked them up and placed them on the hook). You rubbed the bridge of your nose and tried to quell the longing in your soul. You didn't know if it was worse when the kids were gone or with you. Being completely alone let the terrible thoughts attack but you didn't want your kids to miss out on having their fathers'.
Calming the oncoming tears, you turned around and asked, "who wants pizza for dinner?"
"YES!" Yelled Mal, a fist punched in the air. Paesha nodded her head enthusiastically while Flick did a little happy dance.
Paesha halted and squinted at you, "Not homemade right?"
After dinner arrived, the four of you sat on the large dark green couch. Your two ex-military dogs, Moth and Teddy, sat on either end of the lounge.
Turning onto the streaming service, you found the exact movie you were looking for. The 2003 version of Peter Pan.
With the lights off (except for the kitchen, the kids were still scared of too much darkness), you watched as one of your cats jumped into Pae's lap. Barnaby started purring instantly. His fluffy white tail settled around his body.
The seven of you settled in. Your four human babies snuggled up to their mama, smiles already on their faces.
When the movie had finished, your kids still wouldn't go to bed.
"Oh wait, I know why it isn't working - we don't have the pixie dust!" Flick pulled on your sleeve with a huge gap-toothed smile.
You had been watching as they jumped around the room. Lights flicked on, bodies flinging from one couch to another.
"I know! But ... we don't have any in the house..." You grumbled.
Paesha was staring dreamily at Peter Pan, a cheek resting against her face. "Where do we get some?" Her head turned slightly to look at you, her eyes nearly heart-shaped.
"Ugh-" god trying to keep childlike wonder alive was bloody difficult. Like a sign from the Universe, your phone started to ring.
All three kids ran over to it, knowing exactly who was calling at this time of night. Swiping the screen, four familiar faces popped up.
"Da! Papa! Dad! Daddy!" Smiling through the screen, the men had been just as eager to see their kids as their kids were to see them.
"Hello little munchkins, ya been good for mum?" Simon greeted first. His mask was off and no black could be found around his eyes. He never showed that side to the children.
"We're going to fly!" Flick chirped, her arms outstretched and running around.
"You're - what?" Price said with a slightly panicked face.
"But we need pixie dust," Malachai explained. Shaking his head like this was obvious information.
"I introduced them to the ... live action Peter Pan," you explained and a smile of regret grew on your tired face.
"Oh honey," Kyle replied, understanding the situation. He was the first of the men to.
"But we don't have any and we have to go buy more!" Pae said while leaning against you.
"Eh, pixie dust ...?" you heard Johnny mumble in the background.
"Oh! I have an idea!" You said with a faked expression, "why don't the Dada's get us the pixie dust!"
The chorus of cheers was heard throughout the house. Alerting the the tired Moth and Teddy.
Kyle shook his head. And Price's nose flared. Mum: 1 - Dads: 0.
"We'll bring back the goddamns finest," Simon said. You couldn't help but let out a small laugh.
"See! You heard Dad! Now get your butts' upstairs and in bed."
"Yes ma'am!" They said in unison (a nickname they'd heard their father's use one too many times.)
Once the kids were upstairs, your face dropped.
"I miss you guys," you whispered into the phone. The tears welling and spilling down your cheeks.
"We miss you too," John said, his words strangled with his feelings.
It was always hard to hang up.
It hurt.
But tonight's farewell felt like the hardest. You could just imagine how the scenario would've played out if their father's were there with them. With you.
'Can't always get what we want,' you thought bitterly.
"Not long now," Kyle said. You stared at his eyes and then his lips. God how much you wanted to kiss him.
"You better make sure you bring back some fucking pixie dust or there'll be a riot."
"Aye, Laswell definitely knows someone-" Johnny replied, giving you a wink. "Miss you gorgeous." He always tried to uplift the mood. And it nearly always worked.
You fought out of your misery, knowing the four soldiers couldn't bear to see you upset. And as they said their goodbyes, you said so in return.
"We love you, our precious wife. We'll all be together soon."
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xzaddyzanakinx · 13 days
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Not That Kind of Guy
Part Nine: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series
Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink (Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, nude vids/pics, rape mentioned (somnophilia), gen. sexual content, Panic/Anxiety Attack, forced nudity [Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]
Info: Anakin/Ghost having thoughts?? Unselfish ones?? Luke can’t stop roasting/sassing you [diary entries from Ani] [texting/letters/notes]extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+
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Diary Entry: August 10th
I think enough time has passed. I think you’re ready to see Ghost again.
I thought it would take longer for you to recover, but as always, the little fawn in you is curious as ever. Quick to forget fear and ready for the newest challenge.
You’ve responded so well to everything. I’m very proud of you.
I’ve been keeping up with my visits, still cleaning, still watching, still following and protecting.
Now that you know of Ghost, I’ve started completing my tasks. I don’t have to leave anything halfway finished, the dishes are done everyday along with the vacuuming and dusting. I even mop twice a week.
And change the cat litter, which might I add, is disgusting. (Worth it though because I love that little menace.)
I thought for sure you’d run and tell me that you didn’t think the alarms I installed weren’t working, but you didn’t, you just repeatedly tested them yourself. It was very loud, very annoying and I know you could hear the woman down the hall banging her pots and pans together to fight back with her own noise. You didn’t care though, you just wanted to make sure the alarms worked.
They do work, I wouldn’t have installed fake ones, that would be stupid. I’m all for keeping you safe so… what’s one more safety measure?
I just know that they can also be very easily disarmed. Even through the inch and a half thick wooden door to your apartment. A piece of sheet metal (credit card sized) and my handy dandy super strength magnet works like a charm.
You’re such an odd bird. You haven’t told anyone, I don’t think it’s really even crossed your mind too much either. You’ve begun to pretend the cameras aren’t even there. You just go about your normal day to day life and occasionally squint and stare at random objects.
You never actually go check them out though. Is it all for show? I think it might be.
I think you like being watched. I bet it makes you feel safe doesn’t it? Knowing I’m always there for you?
——————————————————————————
You know what the best part of all this is?
Ghost will let me love you in the way that is natural and normal to me. I just hope that you’ll be willing to accept that we are one in the same.
Ghost can comfortably do all the things that I’ve been afraid to. I didn’t want to scare you, but it really was difficult not to leave you things. I’m so glad that you brought that up in your list of questions because it gave me the opportunity to act on it without you flipping out.
Do you like them? I love leaving things for you. Especially little notes.
Ghost has been kind enough to stay out of your way when I’m around, but I can resist making you squirm occasionally. Remember when I left you a note, KNOWING I’d be coming home with you later that day?
Oh babe. It was so oddly intoxicating to see the way you reacted when I got back home and pulled up the footage. You snatched up that slip of paper didn’t read it and didn’t toss it in the trash, didn’t put it in your pocket.
You shoved it in your mouth so I wouldn’t see it. Freak.
I saw it all chewed up and gross in the bathroom trash. You didn’t read it. I know you didn’t. So I’ll have to get alittle more creative.
Don’t ignore me.
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DATE
August 13th
For the third morning in a row you woke up to a text from your own cellphone number.
‘Sleep well deer?’
Idiot. Can’t even spell. So finally on this third day, you sent a text back and corrected him.
‘Dear*’
Immediately a response buzzed through.
‘No.’
No? What does he mean no?
‘Little doe. My deer. 🦌’
Oh great, so stalkers use emojis and he’s given you a nickname. How cute.
You laid back in your bed and tossed your phone aside, hands covering your face as you rubbed the sleep away.
The longer this went on, the more insane you felt. This wasn’t normal, of course it’s not normal. So why are you allowing it?
You could ask yourself that a million times and you’d never find an answer.
You could throw away every flower he brought you and they’d still keep coming. You could burn every piece of paper in the city and chew every pen until it’s broken beyond repair and he would still find a way to write you a note.
You could swallow every word he writes, throw it up, flush it, whatever. It’s just going to pop back up. Gross and soggy with an amendment attached and in your panty drawer.
You thought maybe it was an important one. So you read it. Quickly discovered it was semi-important, Ghost just wanted to remind you that he loved you and he was proud of you for continuing to drink your tea even though you knew it was drugged. Once you’re out of it, he’s going to set the pills out next to your birth control. So he ‘doesn’t have to fool with measurements anymore’.
The addendum to the note was tucked inside the original:
‘Good girls swallow.’
You could ignore the trinkets, the jewelry or the pretty stones and shells. But he would just move them to a different spot and force you to eventually set it in your jewelry box along with all the others.
He’s not been bold enough to come around with Anakin in your home. The nights that Anakin sleeps over, there are no gifts, no cleaning done. No disturbances.
But Anakin doesn’t deter him completely.
He’s left you one note at Anakin’s apartment, the first time you’d slept away from your own home in ages. Ghost had the audacity to slip a note into the pocket of your shorts while you slept in the same bed as Anakin in his apartment.
It didn’t say anything, no words, just a heart in red ink. Like he just wanted to remind you that he was there and you were his whether you wanted to be or not. Anakin or no Anakin, Ghost didn’t care.
It’s been horrible lying… omitting the truth to Anakin. Sometimes you feel like blurting it out, but something always stops you. Morbid curiosity maybe. Or maybe you just like the thrill of it, that little shiver of adrenaline you get every time he makes himself known.
It would all stop if you told Anakin. Neither would quit until he’d hunted the other man down and gotten rid of him.
They’d kill each other.
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Anakin worked tonight, so you had plans to meet up with Luke (sans his pet leech) for a late evening dinner. As much as you loved Han and appreciated everything he did for Luke, how happy he made him, you really just wanted some time alone with your best friend.
So you were thrilled to receive a text around 1:00pm from Luke:
‘Don’t be late. I’m dying to catch up babe.’
You quickly opened the message but before you finished typing, a voice message popped up in your notifications, sent from your number.
You abandoned the chat with Luke and opted to open the voice message instead.
‘I’m coming home.’ then a long pause, ‘have fun with Lukey.’
That scratchy filtered voice; you’d yet to hear it over the phone and this being the first time… it sent you right back to the very first time you watched Scream. That icy chill that snuck up the back of your neck, the tightening of your chest… you felt it now, just not because of fear.
You felt it because you were excited.
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“Okay, seriously what do you keep looking at?” Luke prodded, snatching your phone and sliding it into his jacket pocket.
“Nothing it’s just-“
“My phone is on ‘do no disturb’, because I have missed my buddy, my pal, my best friend.” He paused, his pointer finger jabbing the table between your plate and his.
“I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I haven’t even unlocked it! It’s just sitting there.”
“True, but the obnoxious tapping to check whatever it is you’re hoping for is getting annoying.” Honesty, brutal or not, was Luke’s love language.
“Fine. I’m sorry, I’ll put it in my pocket.” You agreed, holding your hand out palm up.
“No ma’am. This is mine until the check comes.” His answer was definitive, no room for argument there. “What’s so important anyway? I know Anakin is at work.”
“It’s just work stuff.” You huffed.
“Oh? What’s so pressing at the diner?” He scoffed, “got a big shipment of ketchup coming in? Are you ‘on call’?”
“Luke.” You rolled your eyes at his jab. “No and yes. I am ‘on call’ actually. Sara’s son has been sick.’
Not a total lie, he has been sick. Poor guy. But her husband was home with him and he was being well looked after.
“Okay? That’s your problem how?”
“God you’re so negative sometimes.” You sighed. “Her babysitter hates vomit. If he throws up Sara will have to go home.”
“Ew.” He scrunched up his nose. “I’m eating.”
“Okay? That’s my problem how?” You said mockingly.
“Really? Like for real that’s why you keep checking your phone?”
“Yes really.” Giving him a look that screamed duh’. “Her baby sitter is the 14 year old girl that lives next door to her. Do you really suggest leaving a 14 year old in charge of a vomiting 2 year old? When that 14 year old is disgusted by puke? That’s a recipe for disaster.”
It would be a disaster, her sitter is 14. She just happens to be on vacation with her mother right now. Hence the temporary stay at home husband.
“Okay, first of all, 14? Isn’t that alittle young?”
“No? I started babysitting when I was 12.” You shrugged.
“Fine.” Luke sighed. “Here.”
He slid your phone back to you and propped his chin up on his fist. Watching you check it one last time before turning on the sound and putting it in your back pocket.
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‘I’m walking home now!’
You shot off the text to Anakin after saying your goodbye to Luke at the restaurant. You’d refused his offer to walk you home, you didn’t want him anywhere near your apartment building knowing that Ghost would be there.
Six minutes later he replied:
‘Good girl.🥰 let me know when you get there safe.’
‘Will do💕’
And you did, the moment you stood outside your apartment door.
‘Made it! See you tomorrow💕’
You waited in the hall to receive his response. You didn’t know what would be waiting for you on the other side of this door, and you didn’t want to chance it.
‘Perfect. Sweet dreams doll!’
Your hand poised at the door knob, you inserted your key to discover your door was already unlocked. You very slowly opened the door, but saw no one in your kitchen or living room.
But your bedroom door was closed, boogie hadn’t meowed as loudly as possible and sprinted to you, demanding to be fed. He did say that they were good friends. So they both must be in your room.
Would it be wise to lock your door? The few precious seconds leaving it unlocked would save if you needed to run… no, no. Just lock it. Doorknob. Deadbolt. Chain.
‘Just stay calm’
You kicked off your shoes and tossed your bag to the floor, walking quietly across the carpeted living room to pause in front of your bedroom. A soft yellow glow shone beneath the door, your lamp must be on. You could hear your tv playing something, not quite sure what it was, but it had the all too familiar cadence of a horror flick.
The audacity of this man astounded you.
When you pushed open the door, he was laying in your bed, shoes off, legs crossed at the ankles, propped against the headboard, arms behind his head. He looked like he belonged there. As big a contrast as it was… your soft, pink, feminine room and him. All black, the mask. He just looked so comfortable.
Your cat, the little traitor, was curled up on his chest. It was kind of sweet. How could such an inherently terrifying scenario seem so normal?
Ever so casually he tilted his head toward you, his right hand raising from its relaxed position to lazily give you gloved finger waggle for a wave.
“Have fun?” The filtered voice drifted over to you.
“Yes.” You answered quietly, glued to the spot.
“Are you just going to stand there?” He laughed. “I would come pick you up, but it’s illegal to move a sleeping cat.” He gestured to boogie who had still not moved from her human pillow.
You couldn’t help but laugh, eyebrows raised in an expression of awe filled shock. This was too weird. Too normal. Too scarily alluring.
Yet you found yourself at the edge of the bed, not really knowing how you got there to begin with.
“Sat you some pajamas out.” He said dismissively, the mask fixed onto the tv screen. “Figured you’d wanna change.”
“Huh.” You snorted, seeing that he had.
You expected to see one of your lacy lingerie sets. But he’d chosen something much more modest that you would’ve ever imagined. Loose, thin, stretchy fabric pajama pants, the matching cropped tank top, and fuzzy socks.
“Um. Thanks?” You said awkwardly, picking them up and turning on your heels to change in the bathroom.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He chuckled.
“To the bathroom?” You scoffed, looking over your shoulder at him.
“You can change in here.” He wasn’t offering. He was telling you.
“No way.” You shook your head. “No I’m not-“
“C’mon little doe.” The filtered voice left little room for change in tone, but you could tell from his body language that it was a challenge.
“Ghost. No! I have Anakin I don’t-.”
He laughed. “I don’t care.”
“Well I do.”
“Mmm… not enough. You’re letting me be here. You didn’t tell him. You didn’t mention me to anyone at all actually.” He pointed out.
“Well that’s not-“
“Hush.” He snapped, making you stall. “I’ve seen that pretty little body of yours plenty of times. What’s one more?”
“But-“ your face was so red hot that you could feel the heat spreading down your neck.
“What? I’m not gonna get up.” He said plainly. “I’m comfy right here where I can watch you.”
“I don’t… this isn’t right.”
“Don’t pull that bullshit with me.” He scoffed. “Nothing about this is ‘right’. But you’re letting it happen, yeah?” He said and got just a nod from you in response.
“That’s it.” He moved his arm to point two fingers at you, “get on with it sweetheart. I wanna see my girl.”
“I’m not your-“
“You were mine first.” He snapped.
“Well, that’s not very fair.” Your voice shaking. “I didn’t even know you were…. I didn’t know about you!”
“That might be true.” He growled, “but it’s your fault for being so ignorant.”
“I-I don’t…” you felt like you were on the verge of a tantrum. This man was outrageous, coming into your home uninvited, being a fucking perv, acting like he owns the place, and now he’s calling you ignorant?
“Do you realize how stupid it is for you to argue with me about the morality of all this?” He asked, going back to his former relaxed state.
“You. Are allowing me to be here. You had all day to call the cops if you wanted to. But you didn’t.” That smug little bastard laughed. “I’ve been here for over two hours. You knew I’d be here when you got back.”
“That’s not-“
“I’m not finished.” He held up a finger and silenced you. “You’re mine. You’ve been mine and you will continue to be mine.”
“I don’t care that you are pretending to be appalled by the situation you are in.” His voice was even and unyielding, he was so confident in his statements.
“You know why I don’t care?” He asked, tilting his head toward you condescension oozing from every pore.
“Why?” You squeaked.
“Because I know, without a doubt, that if I were to stick my hand down your pretty pink panties; you’d be wet right now.”
How did he know what color your underwear is? Better question: why is that the first thing you thought of when there were much more pressing matters at hand?
“That’s not true.” Your voice sounded hollow.
“It’s not?” He laughed. “Show me then.”
“What?” You whispered, eyes bugging out of your head.
“Do it. Prove to me that you’re not soaked.” He snickered.
“That’s not fair you can’t just-“
“You’re not running are you? You haven’t said no, you haven’t come over here and smacked me.” He interrupted.
You stood there with your jaw dropped, you needed a dustpan and broom to sweep up your shattered facade of denial. How could you dispute that?
“Fine!” You shouted. “Fine. I’ll just change in here.”
“Don’t raise your voice at me.” He growled. “You’re awfully bold for a spoiled brat.”
“I am not a-“
“When will you stop disagreeing with me?” He laughed. “You know it’s true. I’ve spoiled you so much that you’ve rotted to your core. You weren’t always a brat, but you are now. You like being spoiled don’t you? Being taken care of, being treated like a princess?”
“Your little boyfriend does the same thing doesn’t he?” He snickered. “Spoiled. Brat.”
“You’re just a little girl who needs a man to hold her hand.”
“You’re being mean.” You whispered, your voice breaking.
“The truth is hard to hear isn’t it little doe?” He said, his voice going back to its nonchalant, flat tone.
You couldn’t argue. He’d been right about everything and it’s difficult to argue with someone who throws fact after fact at you like he’s doing. So you took a deep breath and closed your bedroom door.
“Atta girl.” He nodded. “Show me.”
So you did, you turned around and began undressing, you could feel his eyes on you, soaking up the display you were crafting for him.
“Turn around.” His voice alittle quieter, the voice box crackling.
Slowly you complied, swallowing your fear and embarrassment. You kept your eyes closed, it made you feel the slightest bit better, I’m the way a kid would think ‘I can’t see you so you can’t see me’.
“Gorgeous.” He breathed out.
Behind your eyelids you swear you noticed a change in lighting, briefly, but enough to take note of. Your eyes snapped open and saw him holding up his phone.
He’d taken a picture of you.
“Ghost, no! Delete that right now!” You squealed, quickly getting dressed in your fresh pajamas.
“Cool it.” He waved you off. “Just gonna add it to my special folder just for you. See?” He turned his screen toward you and you inched forward.
He wasn’t lying. He scrolled through over one hundred images and videos, some of you in public, some nude, some of you sleeping. All in a folder titled ‘little doe’.
“These are for me.” He said simply. “They’re not going anywhere so don’t worry about that.”
“But these…” he turned the screen back to himself and tapped twice, scrolled and then tapped again before flipping it around.
The images in front of you made you nauseous.
You, spread legs and wet cunt, up close.
You with your hand being held up by Ghost, your fingers buried deeply between your folds.
A short video of your pussy being lovingly stroking by a leather glove. Another of one long digit pumping into you slowly.
A picture of your lips wrapped around his cock.
“S-so you did… you did touch me?” You recoiled.
“No.” He said flatly, before you could protest he laughed.
“You loved it.” He snickered. “Never let you cum. I wanted you to be needy for me.”
“Until… until I saw you.” You whispered.
“Mhm, that’s right.” He nodded. “Took care of your poor swollen pussy properly that time.” He cooed, shoving his phone back into his pocket.
“You’re sick.” You breathed out. “That’s disgusting… you-“
“Call the cops.” He said gesturing to your phone laying on the bed.
“What?”
“You heard me. Call ‘em.” He snorted. “If I’m so sick and disgusting and you’re soooo horrified by my actions; call the cops. I’ll wait right here.”
“Are you gonna send those to Anakin?” Your voice wobbled as you ignored his challenge. You both knew you wouldn’t call.
“Not if you’re good.”
“Are you gonna hurt him?” You asked quietly.
“Now why would I do a thing like that?” He scoffed. “I want you all to myself, but I want you to choose me. I’m not gonna go all Dexter on your boyfriend.”
“You promise?” You sniffled. “Swear it?”
“Pinky swear.” He said confidently, holding out his hand with his little finger raised.
For some reason you took it. You believed him. He hadn’t gotten up and forced you to do anything, he stayed right there the whole time. He had yet to share those pictures with Anakin. A million other twisted reasons you’d started to accept that this was becoming a new normal. A thousand other things that pushed you to believe him.
He’d only bruised your self image with his cold, hard truths about you. That’s not a crime. That’s a reality check.
“Good choice little doe!” You could practically hear the beaming smile on his face behind the plastic mask.
“Now come up here.” He patted the spot next to him. “I don’t like seeing you upset, I’m sorry.”
He was apologizing? He was apologizing.
“You’re sorry?” You repeated in shock.
“Of course I’m sorry. You’re on the verge of tears and I’ve caused it.” He said, holding out his hand palm up for you to take.
“I’m not a monster.”
You hesitated before accepting his hand and climbing into bed beside him. You sat a safe distance from him at first but he lolled his head to the side in what you assumed was a dramatic eye roll and tugged you to his side in a one armed swoop.
The action had you frozen. This was it. He was gonna hurt you. You’d been naive and stupid and he was going to violate you, this time while you were conscious, you’d remember it this time.
“Relax.” He soothed, tucking you comfortably against his side, his bicep behind your head as a pillow and his gloved hand on your side in a way that was almost comforting. “I mean it. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” You whispered, what the fuck is happening?
“No, it’s not okay. I could’ve been more gentle with my words.” His opposite hand rubbing his knuckles across your cheek lovingly.
You were quiet for a moment, debating on the course of action you should take. You were in fact very much allowing this to occur. Would it be so horrible to try and enjoy it? He was warm. He smelled nice and familiar, the cologne… you must have a subtle memory of it from all the times he’d been here while you slept. He was comfortable. He was surprisingly kind.
What’s the worst that could happen?
“Before you get comfy.” He spoke quietly, the voice box crackling from his low voice, “you didn’t take your pill.���
“Oh yeah you’re right.” You moved to get up, pink cheeked because once again he proved that you were in fact helpless without him.
“Don’t get up, I have it right here.” He chuckled, reaching over to the nightstand and handing you the pill packet and a thermos. “Tea.”
“Huh.” You stared at him. Gods this was so fucking weird. “Well… wow okay.” You huffed out a laugh and took your medicine with a sip of your tea.
“Tastes different.” You said, handing the packet back to him.
“Mhm. Yeah I poisoned it.” He said nonchalantly, making you almost choked on your second sip.
“You what?” You shrieked, waking up the cat who bolted from his lap.
“Aw look what you did,” he groaned gesturing to the empty space with a few stray cat hairs.
“You- are you serious?” You started to almost hyperventilate. “Should I make myself throw up?”
Why are you asked the man who poisoned you that? Like he’d tell you.
“No, that would be a waste of good tea.” He snorted. “I put cinnamon in it you idiot.”
“What?”
“Cinnamon.” He repeated. “It’s just cinnamon. It was a joke.”
“That’s not fucking funny!” You shouted, smacking his shoulder.
“Ive already told you once.” His hand shot out and grabbed your jaw firmly. “Do not. Raise. Your voice. At me.” He growled.
“I believe you meant to say ‘ha-ha, ghost that was funny. you got me!’” He snickered and released your jaw, soothing you with his hand now gently raking through your hair.
You were stunned. Absolutely shook by his quick turnaround, this should be terrifying. This man can be so gentle one moment and the next he’s speaking to you like he’s ordering you to lay down at the guillotine. It wasn’t terrifying in the right way. Not the type of fear you should be feeling at his unpredictable actions.
You weren’t scared of him at all. But yourself? Yes. Who is this girl? Why is she… why do you like this? It’s scary because you’re not scared. It’s horrifying because you want more. It’s terrifying because you’re morbidly curious about what he’d do if you acted out again.
You shook your head and picked your jaw off the floor, deciding the best course of action was to just tuck yourself back under his arm and watch whatever movie he had paused when you entered the room.
Might as well. You’ve already come this far.
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Date
August 14th
When you woke up the next morning Ghost was gone. Your home was devoid of any trace of him, no note, no gift, no messages. Nothing.
He had hardly moved while you sat with him, the only consistent movement was the gentle twist and twirl of one long lock of your hair around his finger. It was repetitive and soothing, just like the calming rise and fall of his chest.
How could he be so calm? So off guard?
You could’ve turned on him at any moment. Ripped off his mask and saw who he was, grabbed your lamp and wacked him with it. Punched him in the nuts and ran.
But, to be fair, he could’ve done the same to you. Yet you stayed there, albeit anxious and on high alert for majority of the time spent with him. Despite the fact that you knew he carried a weapon, even though you were well aware of what he’d been doing to you all this time, even after he’d manhandled your face when you smarted off to him.
It must be a twisted form of mutual trust.
Or you might just be delusional.
Either way, it was wrong and you knew that. You intentionally got naked in front of another man, while he laid on the bed your boyfriend so sweetly makes love to you in. You fell asleep in the arms of this man. Not just *any* other man, the one who has been stalking you relentlessly for months.
You’ve cheated on Anakin. If he knew, it would crush him. It would break apart his big, soft, velveteen heart. Your betrayal would rip a hole right through the middle and slice up the fabric so badly it couldn’t be sewn back up without ending up smaller, weaker, and deformed.
What could you do? Was there anything to do? Telling him to his face… the thought of it soured your stomach so badly you thought you might form an ulcer.
Telling Ghost to fuck off and leave you alone wasn’t an option either. No matter what you did, the precautions you put in place; he would find you. Not only would he find you, but he wouldn’t allow Anakin the privilege of breathing anymore.
You couldn’t tell Luke. He’d lecture you until your ears bled while he dragged you to the nearest police station. Then Luke would be in danger, Anakin would know, and Ghost would still be your problem. And if Luke didn’t believe you, he’d ship you off to the long term care loony bin.
Your sister? Of course you couldn’t tell her either. She has her own family. Ghost already knows where she lives, he’s told you so.
He knows everything about you. Your family tree, your friends list, your schedule, your medical information, banking account, he has complete access to your home, your phone…
You are a canary in a cage and he is a cat pawing at you through the metal bars.
It’s only a matter of time before one of those claws nicks you. A feather or two might come loose, open up a weak spot on your frail body. The next swipe might draw blood, maybe it won’t. Or maybe he’ll be lucky enough to bat you to the bottom of the cage.
It’s hard enough to escape when there’s someone always watching. When there’s a lock on the door. But to attempt to flee with broken wings? You couldn’t hobble your way to safety anyway. Bird cages don’t have doors at the bottom, they’re halfway up. They don’t have horizontal bars. You can’t climb.
You are stuck.
It’s up to you if you want to be trapped there intact, or if you’d rather wallow at the bottom in pain.
——————————————————————————
Maybe you should just break up with Anakin.
Ghost said he wouldn’t hurt him, but how long will that last? How long until he gets tired of waiting? Should you ask Ghost again? Just to make sure? Make him sign a fucking contract?
Maybe it would be best if-
“Sweetheart?” Anakin whispered softly, waving his hand in front of your face. “What’s going on? I’ve been standing here for almost a minute.”
Anakin was here.
“What?” You whispered back, suddenly overwhelmingly aware of your surroundings.
The diner. You were at The Bluebird. You were working. A glance to the clock told you that you’d been here for over two hours, a quick scan of the tables and the counter proved that you hadn’t neglected any customers. Your notepad and pen were in your hand, there was money in the tip jar.
Anakin was here.
“Hey, c’mere.” His voice soft and concerned.
He gently took the pad and pen from your hands, put an arm around your shoulder and held your hand as he led you through the kitchen. Not an uncommon occurrence, Anakin was well known to everyone at the Bluebird due to his frequent visits to see you. He often walked with you out through the kitchen to sit on the curb with you while you took a break and he smoked a cigarette.
“Vigo, I’m taking her out back.” He said quietly, speaking to the dishwasher.
“I was about to call you man.” He spoke back in a hushed voice. “She’s been actin’ like that since she got here.”
“Yeah? Well next time don’t wait to call.” Anakin grumbled, scowling at your coworker.
The heat of the afternoon sun soothed over your skin, making you painfully aware of the cold sweat lacing the back of your neck. You blinked and it felt like it was the first time you’d closed your eyes in hours. Your mouth was dry, your teeth felt cold and your brain might’ve been better described as soup.
Anakin sat down on the curb and pulled you down with him. Placing you sideways between his legs, your arms immediately threw themselves around his neck and you curled up into him.
��Jesus baby.” He whispered, the wind getting knocked out of him at your aggressive tackle.
“An-” You started to sob before you even finished his name.
“W-what’s wrong?” You could feel his heart beat quicken beneath you, hear it pounding in his chest. He was feeling real, true panic.
“Hey, hey talk to me. Breathe.” He tried to soothe you by petting your hair, rocking you gently, kissing your forehead… anything, anything he could think of and nothing was working.
You were sobbing so loudly that Anakin was glad there wasn’t a back parking lot. If someone wanted to see where this horrible wailing was coming from they’d have to walk all the way around back, thankfully most people didn’t care enough to do such a thing.
Unfortunately though, your coworkers did care.
The back door creaked open and you could hardly hear the conversation over your own tears.
“Anakin!” Vigo whisper shouted. “What the fuck did you do to her?”
“What do you mean? I didn’t do this!” His voice angrily gritting through his teeth. “What happened today?”
“Nothin’ man! I dunno!” Vigo squeaked raising up his hands in surrender. “She just clocked in like that, no cryin’ though. She’s hardly said a word.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t call me!” Anakin grunted, “I’m her emergency contact for a reason you idiot.”
“Hey? Don’t get mad at me!” Vigo scoffed. “I figured she was in a funk because of you, why would I call if I thought it was boyfriend troubles?”
“Jesus- did you even ask her?”
“What?”
“Oh my fuckin’-“ Anakin took a breath to regulate himself, one arm firmly holding you while the other was wildly gesturing as he spoke. “Did you ask her what was wrong?”
“No?”
“Are you stupid? God just fuck- go back inside before you end up crying on the ground too.” He snapped at him, huffing as the back door shut behind a quickly retreating Vigo.
“Sorry baby, I’m sorry,” He whispered, petting your head and squeezing you tightly. “I’m sorry, that probably didn’t help did it?”
“N-not really.” You hiccuped out a laugh.
“She speaks.” He gasped, “want me to yell at him some more? I’ll do it just say the word-“
“Anakin-“ you snorted, wiping your eyes and nose on his shirt. “Aw shit sorry.”
“You think I’m worried about alittle snot?” He scoffed, “Sweetheart, I’d lick it out of your nose like a cow if you’d let me. C’mere I’ll prove it.”
He stuck out his tongue and flicked it at you, chasing your face as you squirmed away from him. Despite to horrible ache in your lungs and the scratchy feeling in your throat, Anakin had a way of making everything better. Even if it was accomplished by making a fool of himself.
You laughed in spite of trying to catch your breath, fighting those awkward stalled inhales with a the goofy little giggle only he could force out of you. He relented finally when you gave up struggling, opting for a kiss on the tip of your nose rather than his tongue up your nostril.
“Wanna talk to me now?” He asked quietly, his playful attitude tucked away and replaced with seriousness.
“I don’t know Ani.” You sighed, feeling horribly conflicted. “I just want to go home.”
“Then I’ll take you home.” He said, not leaving room for argument. “But I’m not letting you get up until you tell me what’s going on.”
“Please? Please I don’t wanna talk about it.” Your eyes already filling back up with tears.
“It’s nothing really! It’s okay.” You pleaded with him, “I’m just… I’ve been thinking about a lot of stuff and it’s all overwhelming.”
“That’s not okay, don’t say it’s okay. You just wailed like a banshee.” He said sternly. “Talk, let me help.”
“I just feel like I’m losing my mind.” You scoffed, “Im going nuts. I don’t… I don’t know. I don’t know how to explain it without you thinking I’m insane.”
“Princess.” He said, his voice cracking with pain. “You can tell me anything. You know that.”
“W-what if hypothetically…” you whispered. “It’s only hypothetical okay?”
“Okay. Imaginary scenario, let’s hear it.” He nodded solemnly.
“Hypothetically, if I was having… nightmares of someone being in my house. What would you say.” You whispered.
“Hypothetical nightmares?” He asked, one eyebrow raised. “Well… I’d suggest that maybe you… go to therapy? See if you can find the root of the problem.”
Therapy? To find the root of the problem? That would work if you didn’t already know where to find the problem: in your apartment at any given moment. Hell, he was probably there right now.
“Are you having these dreams because of that night at the bar?” He asked softly, tucking loose hairs behind your ear. “You know we didn’t see anyone put anything in your drink. No one left at the same time as you but your friends.”
“Now like I said before, just because we didn’t see it on camera… it doesn’t mean that no one slipped something in your drink. Stuff like that unfortunately happens all the time.” He sighed.
“I know.” You nodded, your eyes wet and sad, you knew you weren’t drugged there. You were drugged in the security of your own home. “I know, I think maybe I was just alittle more tipsy than I thought I don’t-“
“Hey, no… it’s okay.” He soothed you. “I believe you.”
“But there was no one who followed you home from the bar. I can say that with 100% certainty okay?” He said sternly.
“Ani but-“
“Look at me.” He said sharply, his voice turning soft again immediately after. “No one followed you home. I watched that video a hundred times over from every angle possible. No one else left the bar until about 17 minutes after you and your friends left.”
“Now don’t get upset baby okay? Listen I know, I know that it scared you shitless.” He said in a pained way, his face not quite matching his tone of voice like he was having a hard time trying to decide how to respond.
“Which is perfectly valid. It’s totally okay to be terrified if you saw something like that.” He soothed you, squeezing your upper arms. “I’m not saying it didn’t happen, I would never say that. If you say that you saw something, I believe you.”
“But, just because you saw it… doesn’t mean that it was truly there. Those kind of drugs can really fuck with your head baby.” He said gently.
“I know.” You sniffled, wiping your eyes and hiding against his chest again.
Gods… this man. He really was one of a kind, not just any man or person in general for that matter, would respond so well to such a strange temporary delusion. Your past boyfriends would’ve run for the hills. But not Anakin. It was clear he wasn’t deterred easily, he was your personal emotional support pet leech.
It was strange, feeling so comfortable like this with someone you hadn’t known for very long. After this conversation you thought maybe it would be okay to tell Anakin the truth about it all. He’d handle it perfectly well wouldn’t he?
But, you can’t risk putting him in harms way. You wouldn’t know if Anakin would be safe without first speaking to Ghost. If Anakin was your pet leech… Ghost was the the neighborhood street dog who’d decided your porch was the safest place to sleep. Who would be heartless enough to kick the poor thing out without a proper meal first?
That’s the problem with strays. Give them a scrap and they’ll love you for life.
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Diary Entry: August 14th
Jesus baby I’m sorry. I thought things went well last night, I didn’t mean to make you so upset. I really didn’t. I guess you weren’t ready to see Ghost after all.
That’s my fault, I apologize. I should have known better.
It’s just… you seemed kind of excited for it you know? I thought we had a good time. Was the stripping down in front of me what freaked you out so much? Or seeing the pictures? I shouldn’t have done that. I really shouldn’t have, that was too far, too fast.
I see now that I made a mistake and I plan to rectify it as soon as possible. I’m going to give you a choice, one that I really don’t want to give you. But I will for the sake of your sanity.
I���ve been selfish for too long.
I’ve not truly considered your feelings on the situation, I’ve taken your response at face value and never attempted to dig farther than that. It won’t happen again I can assure you of that. Ghost will still be Ghost, but perhaps just a bit more considerate of your opinions and boundaries.
You must understand though, it’s hard to deal with this for me too. I know it’s not fair to compare our separate sides of the situation like this, but it’s true. It’s painful to watch you get so upset over something I’ve done, knowing I can’t really resolve the issue. I don’t know how to help, or fix this.
I’ve dug myself into a hole. A Pit if you will.
How could you ever forgive me now? After all this time that I have been so stupidly self-centered… I imagine it would be unlikely that you could find it in your immensely kind soul to forgive and forget my transgressions.
Maybe not though? I do see you as a godly entity, my own personal deity. If I leave enough at the altar, bow at your feet for long enough, serve you unconditionally… maybe then you would see that I have discovered the error of my ways. You could see that I am truthful in my pursuit of repentance.
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Date
August 15th
Anakin drove to the opposite side of the city to purchase your apology gifts from Ghost. He knew well enough that Luke never had a set schedule, Han was always at the gym and you were at book club. There was limited space in time and even smaller proximity of location for him to safely collect the supplies he needed.
If someone saw him buying a dozen red roses and told you about it without his knowledge… well there goes Ghost. It’d be real hard to explain that away.
So he went to the florist, chose the most beautiful bouquet he could find and tucked it away in a large brown bag with tissue paper over the top so he wouldn’t accidentally bruise the petals.
He strolled down the side walk to another small mom and pop store, just to browse through stationary and cards. Ghost needs to be alittle more classy in his opinion. Maybe if his notes are on nice paper and written in plain black ink… that could ease the discomfort of it. It’s probably not super welcoming to find a ripped scrap of paper with red ink scrawled on it now that he’s come to think of it.
It was amusing to him before, but after your display of emotion, he’s feeling guilty. Very, very guilty. There was no reason to go the extra mile on stupid little things like that.
So, pretty grey paper and matching envelopes join the bouquet.
Now he just has to find something else. It can’t be chocolate or something generic. It has to be something meaningful. Something thoughtful to solidify the sentiment behind his offer for you. Something that will push you to make the right decision.
——————————————————————————
Anakin walked into your apartment, and went straight to your bedroom, it was time for Ghost to set up his apology present.
The big red bouquet was carefully placed in the center of your bed along with the pretty stationary propped against it. Your name carefully and neatly written in **black ink** on the envelope.
Your other gift, had turned into two. A small black box accompanying a short and squat black gift bag with grey tissue paper.
He was proud of his staged display, so proud that he couldn’t wait for you to see it. He was itching for you to get home, he needed to know what you’d choose. He was dying to see your pretty face light up with joy at his thoughtfulness.
So against his better judgement, he snapped a picture of himself standing at your bedside. The photo taken from a high angle to capture just the corner of your red rose bouquet, with himself taking up majority of the frame. His mask tilted to the side and his free hand held up a gloved peace sign.
He’d wait to send it.
He wanted to see your face when the message came through.
Anakin was prepared to be patient, but he didn’t have to be patient for long. He got the notification that there was movement out front of the building, he pulled up the live feed from the stairwell camera on his laptop and excitedly jolted up out of his seat before sitting back down quickly to scoot his seat back up to the table.
He rubbed his hands together and practically combusted from the inside when he confirmed it was you. His fingers moved quickly to send the text message and just as he thought you would, you paused and pulled your phone from your hoodie pocket.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, a bit of panic and maybe a bit of excitement. But mostly, Anakin was saddened to see fear. You were scared, but so brave as he watched you sprint up the steps. He shook his head and let out a deep breath, pulling up the split screen of all the cameras in your home.
You burst through the front door and slammed it shut, tossing your bag aside. Anakin turned up the volume just a bit and immediately realized that was a mistake because you yelled directly underneath the kitchen camera. The audio crackled as you shouted out for Ghost, Anakin realized then that you must think he’s still inside your home.
‘Just missed me.’ He texted quickly, watching you check your phone quickly and let out a sigh of relief as you muttered under your breath.
He thought you might text back, but why would you when you knew he was watching at that very moment?
“Hey!” You said, spinning in place, your eyes darting around to scan the room. “Where did you go? I didn’t see you!”
You rushed over to the living room window and down to the alley below, then up the fire escape, your gaze traveling over to the next building’s roof.
‘You won’t see me unless I want you to.’ He texted back.
“Jesus.” You muttered, rubbing your wrist anxiously. “I guess you want me to go to my room huh?”
‘Yes please.’
“Fine.” You sighed, kicking off your shoes as you walked over to the bedroom door, flinging it open quickly just incase he was still hiding out.
Your eyes drew to the center of your bed, the roses, the bag and box, the envelope. If the situation weren’t so strange you might consider this a romantic gesture. But it’s not, it’s not romantic and you shouldn’t want to open the gifts and sniff the pretty, sweet smelling flowers. You should want to call the police and have them haul the shit off for evidence.
“What’s all this for?” You asked alittle quieter than before, holding up your phone to read the text as it came through almost instantly as you knew that it would.
‘Letter.’
“Letter? That’s all?” You scoffed, “you did all this for a letter?”
‘It’s important.’ The response came quickly, followed by a second in rapid succession. ‘Gifts first.’
“Okay… alright. Gifts first.” You sighed, pulling your hand back from where it was inches away from the grey envelope.
The small box seemed like a good first thing to open, easy enough to snap shut if you didn’t like what you saw inside. Tentatively shifting the lid back and forth you wiggled it free and lifted the small square of padding to reveal a very nice, very ornate, obviously hand crafted hair-pin with a silver rod for the pin.
You gingerly lifted it from the box and held it in your hand to examine it, walking over to the window to open the curtains and see it more clearly. Smooth, black ceramic, gorgeously curved and curled silver fittings. But the most intriguing, the most breathtaking part of it, was the delicate lines and the daintily carved cameo in the center of the ceramic oval.
A woman standing under a willow, with a fawn at her feet.
You wanted to hate it, but how could you hate something so beautiful? How could you pretend to be unappreciative of something that clearly took time and effort to find, it wasn’t just vintage, it was antique. The fact that he’d searched for and seized the jewelry was a feat in itself.
You gingerly laid it back in its box, almost too afraid to hold it. Afraid of its fragility, afraid of what it stood for, how it made you feel. The tiny claws of emotion ripping at your throat stole your voice, you could only hope that Ghost couldn’t see your face from where you were standing or he would clearly see what he’d stirred up inside you.
You picked up the small bag and lifted the tissue paper gently, hoping it wasn’t another emotionally draining surprise.
It wasn’t draining, but it sure as hell was a surprise.
“What’s this?” You snorted, turning the bag over and dumping out a few cat toys.
You waited, checking your phone periodically but got no response. You knew he was still watching, so why wasn’t he answering? Sighing you shook your head and opted to take a look at the toys.
A felt kicker toy shaped as a bloody knife. A couple of fluffy spiders, eyeballs with bells inside, and a little vampire bat that was almost too cute to be a cat toy.
“Thanks.” You said quietly.
It was infuriating how well he knew you, he knew how to crawl into your brain and make you want more. How could you not when he did things like this? Thoughtful, well planned gifts, including your pet too. He knew that your cat was your baby and he’d taken the time to befriend her, cared about her enough to buy her things.
It made it all the more irritating that his choice of toys was just alittle funny. But you’d die before you admit that seeing the knife made you crack a grin.
Finally you decided it was time to open the envelope, as soon as you did, you understood why he’d asked you to open the gifts first.
LETTER
Little Doe,
I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you. The hurt I saw, the words heard… I felt it in my soul when I watched you crumble.
My purpose is to love you, my job is to keep you safe, my goal is to make you happy. I’m only doing one of those things, it’s selfish of me to love you the way that I do. I know that.
What I’ve done is wrong, I’m aware. I can’t justify or explain it to you. Just know that the long and short of it is love, it’s not a normal love, but it’s mine and I’m giving it all to you.
There’s no way you’d understand the lengths I’d go to, the things I would do for you. You’d never comprehend how deeply I adore you. That’s okay. It’s hard for me to understand myself too.
The hairpin, it’s the goddess of the hunt and her fawn. I thought considering it all, it would be more than suitable for our situation.
You’re a saint, a deity, someone worth the labors of worship.
Goddesses aren’t meant to be touched, held, loved corporally. They’re meant to be imagined, a comforting presence that you feel all around you, bowed to in hopes of receiving grace. I’ve tried to go beyond the altar to reach you and for that I’m truly sorry.
Please, please take my offerings.
I love you, I need you, but I don’t deserve you. No one deserves attention from the heavens, especially not me. But if you are listening, if you’re willing, I’ll try my best to be the perfect follower.
So I’ll ask for a boon from my goddess:
Grant me passage on the road to repentance, or take my hand to walk through the valley.
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You sat on your bed in silence for a long while, your cat coming to join you and accept the gifts left for her excitedly. It brought you a moment of peace to watch her waller around and smack the eyeballs across the floor.
So the overwhelming weight of the thin grey sheet of paper in your hand felt even heavier when she scampered off with her brand new bag toy hanging from her mouth like a fresh kill. She’d left you alone and undistracted again. Just you, your thoughts, and the suffocating silence surrounding you, the creeping tingle on your neck that told you he was still watching the cameras.
He was waiting.
So you sighed and crawled off the bed with your bouquet in tow, cutting the stems into the kitchen trash can and filling a glass vase with water to display them on the counter.
The grey paper followed you from room to room, seat to seat, from one hand to the other as you read it over and over. You could recite it by memory, it was burned into your retinas, you could still feel the indents of his pen on the paper long after you’d sat it aside, the smell of the paper dye singed your nostrils and didn’t leave even after your shower.
You thought you could clean yourself, wash your hands of the problem both literally and metaphorically.
No amount of scrubbing could rinse your brain well enough to wash away the thousands of jumbled words swirling around. You’d been trying to formulate one, just one, coherent sentence for a response. But each time you made progress, you changed your mind on the decision, you scrapped the idea, sent it to the shredder and recycled it into a slightly different, just as illegible mess.
He’s giving you an out. Take it.
Who cares if he still watches you? He won’t interfere. He won’t show up for visits, he won’t leave you gifts or notes.
He’d left you with an offering. A little piece of himself in exchange for your so called ‘divine intervention’. He was asking for the hand of god to stir the pot and serve it too. At least, that’s how he saw it.
For you it was just an awkward toss up of a bunch of jumbled pros and cons.
On one hand he was offering you freedom. Opening the bird cage and giving you the option to escape but clipping your wings, ensuring you can’t go too far.
He’d still watch, just not make an appearance… keep himself hidden like before.
This would also solidify Anakin’s safety, which you valued highly. You’d be free to have your beautiful blossoming relationship, without the worry and stress from the Ghost that haunts your apartment.
On the other hand he gave you the choice to join him in some capacity. To walk through the valley with him; would he walk two steps behind? Two in front? Or side-by-side?
It’d give you the opportunity to explore this stranger you’ve discovered living inside your mind and body. That weird itch that only Ghost can scratch, the thought of him alone just doesn’t do it for you anymore.
You’d have the chance to see who is under that mask and that was more intriguing than anything. You felt like the more you spoke to him, the more you watched him in person… maybe you’d be able to narrow it down to a few people. That might be worth the risks that come with allowing him to continue visiting.
So, you swallowed your fear and closed your eyes. A few silent moments later you spoke aloud, assuming Ghost was still listening.
“I’ll walk with you.” You said slowly, tasting the words as they left your lips. “On two conditions.”
‘What are they, deer?’ His response came instantaneously.
“You leave my friends and family alone. You swear on your life they’re safe and that includes Anakin. I mean it, I’m not fucking around about it okay?” You said confidently. “I already feel guilty enough, don’t make it worse for me.”
‘Guilty?’
“Yes guilty! I have a boyfriend, who I really, really like.” You said, feeling exhausted from the complexity of your choice. “This isn’t fair to him!”
“But it’s… it’s not fair to me either!” You said frustratedly as you blew out a long breath of air through pursed lips. “I deserve to know who you are! You’ve been watching me for god knows how long and I haven’t even heard your real voice.”
“And… and it’s not fair for you either.” You admitted quietly.
‘Why?’
“You’ve been… mostly harmless. Kind.” You confessed, considering saying more, much more. “You’ve been helpful. Despite everything you’ve done, you obviously care about me. I can’t ignore that especially now.”
‘Mostly harmless??’
‘Why ‘especially’ now?’
“You’re joking right?” You snorted in disbelief, shaking your head and trying to stifle a laugh of indignation. “You… well I mean it feels wrong to call it what it is. But- you.. you know what you did!” You crossed your arms frustratedly.
‘Ah… the extracurriculars.’
“Sure if that’s what you want to call it.” An expression of, strangely enough, amusement, crossed over your features. “What it is… well you know what it is.” You sighed.
“But for some reason… I don’t want to call it that.” You said quietly.
‘Hm. I’ll remember that.’
“I’m sure you will.” You huffed in spite of yourself, because if you were honest you’d be telling him you liked it. Your body liked it, your brain liked it, asleep or not, he’d affected you in ways you were unsure you could get with anyone else. Including your sweet and precious boyfriend, he’s too tender and loving.
“Second condition: you promise me that you’ll eventually tell me who you are.” You said firmly. “I deserve to know.”
‘I accept.’
“Okay then.” You sighed with relief and a bit of resignation. “You still have to warn me if you’re gonna be coming to visit though!”
‘Yes ma’am.’
“Ew. Add that to the list. Never call me ma’am again.” You snorted and it rolled into a full laugh when you finally looked up and caught your own gaze in your bedroom mirror. You were sitting in your room alone, speaking aloud, having a fully fleshed, seemingly one-sided conversation.
If anyone were to walk in on this scene playing out, they’d think you’ve lost your mind.
Maybe you already have.
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Part Ten
The pendant that inspired the hairpin! I forgot to add it in sorryyyyyy
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Tag-List:
@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 1@mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @rorysbrainrott @hopesworlld @lonaah @guiltycherries @syralix @doblasftcisco
THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.
325 notes · View notes
sthavoc · 2 months
Note
hear me out bestie, an ex's to lovers. like enzo and his gf broke up for some reason but he is winning her back and not letting her go
☆ 🌃 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 | ENZO VOGRINCIC
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𖥔 ࣪˖ pairing: enzo x fem!reader
𖥔 ࣪˖ summary: enzo and you have been broken up for almost a year now. the both of you hang out with the boys and you talk. he wants to win you back, and maybe he will.
𖥔 ࣪˖ warnings: beer. a few cuss words.
𖥔 ࣪˖ note: bestie ofccc!! thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy it!<3 also currently working on more requests so hang tight!! <3 juani and mati were a handful on this one lmao. hope I didn’t miss any grammar mistakes 🙏🏻.
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“A ver, chicos ya por favor bájenle a la cerveza.” You grabbed Valentino’s and Juani’s can, but they immediately grabbed it off your hands again. “Ya es la media noche por Dios.”
“Ay no seas aguafiestas nena.” Juani took a long sip of his can as he looked at you, before he began to walk away.
“No, no es que sea aguafiestas Juan Caruso. Es que no tengo ganas de cuidar de nadie.” Your words were followed by a sarcastic smile while your eyes were set on Juani.
The boys and you found yourselves at a park near La Plaza. All of you had agreed to buy a pack of beers and just hang around the park. Though the boys lost count and were starting to get a little tipsy.
“Ay, ¡Es viernes! Se bebe.” Juani dragged the last syllable of his sentence. All of this before Matias spoke—
“Ay se me antojó una pizza ¿Y si vamos por una?” Even before you spoke, all the guys were already saying yes. You knew there was no point in saying no because there was not going to be a no for an answer. Plus a pizza wasn’t a bad idea.
Everyone walked to the nearest Pizzeria of where you were. The guys walked in front as you stayed behind and watched them goof around, doing silly little things. Your arms crossed over your chest as the wind hit you. You felt like the mom of the group right now.
“Dale que yo te ayudo si se descontrolan.” Enzo’s voice comes up behind you making you turn to look at him.
“Ay eso ayudaría. Gracias.” You sighed.
“No hay de que, son una carga. Lo se.” He winks jokingly making a laugh escape out of you.
There was a silence after that. Not peaceful but not graceless either. Like you yearned for to say something but you didn’t know if you should. Enzo felt the same way, but the dissimilarity was that he wanted to say something he just didn’t know what exactly. So he just went with the classic—
“¿Como estás? ¿Como te trata la vida?” His hands rested on the inside of his pockets. He didn’t know if he should mentally slap himself or not for asking that question.
“Pues bien. La verdad nada nuevo, más que cuidar de Blue.” Blue was your 3-year-old cat. Enzo had gotten him for you, for your 1 year anniversary. “¿Y tú?” You glanced at the guys before looking back at Enzo. “¿Como te sientes con tu nuevo estilo de vida?”
Enzo chuckled before he replied. “Pues me va bien. Las fans son-” He puffs out a breath letting his hand drop towards his thigh. “Maravillosas. Los eventos, increíbles.”
To you, it seemed like Enzo was doing amazing. You were proud, there was no doubt about that. “Me da gusto escuchar eso. Estoy orgullosa de ti Enzo.”
“Gracias, nena.” A soft smile crept on Enzo’s lips after his sentence. The both of you walked and walked behind the guys. When he felt like saying something again, Matias spoke—
“Dale pelotudo dame la plata.” He jokingly pushed Juani who just shook his head and picked his hand up in the air. “Como queres que pague ¿ah?”
“Juani, ya dale el dinero a Matías.” You sighed, walking over towards the two of them. You had arrived at the Pizzeria, Juani just had to give Matias the money to go order and pay.
“Ay ya que es joda.” He dragged the last syllable before giving the money to Matias who snatched the bills from his hand.
While Matias went inside and ordered the pizza, you and Enzo stayed with the rest trying to settle them down and avoid any trouble. You had both clutch’s on Esteban and Juani while Enzo had Blas and Agustin (Lain). Valentino had ended up going with Matias. The walk back after the guys came back with the pizza was the same as the walk towards it. Except this time Matias kept putting the pizza box above his head all because Juani wanted a piece.
“Me van a matar.” You sighed as you watched them sit down on the grass with pizza in the middle. You shivered as you felt the breeze of the night whistle on the back of your neck. It sent a wave of shivers through your whole body creating goosebumps.
“Toma, nena.” Enzo came up to you with his jacket in his hand. He noticed you struggling with the cold. This man was like your guardian angel.
“No, estoy bien. Gracias.” Your words made Enzo roll his eyes. He had a feeling you would say no.
“Dale, tenes frío. Toma.” He pressed, extending his hand out even more. This time you accepted and grabbed the jacket off his hand.
“Gracias. Ni cómo pagarte el favor.” A chuckle leaves your lips while a sigh of warmth follows, as you feel the warm heat cover your upper body.
Enzo smiled when he saw you with his jacket on. It had been a long time since the last time he ever did. He didn’t even realized he missed it. Though he did get an idea—
“Déjame que te invite a cenar.”
You looked at him with a smile as your hands rested on the inside of the pockets. You knew what he was trying to do.
“¿Me diste la chaqueta para poder preguntarme esto verdad?” A slight smile carved on your lips, and shortly one did on Enzo’s as well.
“Ya, me vas a decir que no funcionó.” He wanted you to say yes, and he knew it was not going to be easy. His eyes stayed on you as you shook your head still with your smile on. You were gonna answer when Juani called your name— you’ve got to be kidding me. Enzo thought.
“Dale T/N, vengan pa’ acá. ¿Qué hacen allá?” Juani hollered waving for the both of you. “Háganle que se acaba la pizza.”
You and Enzo walked towards the circle as they made space for the both of you. The boys had already eaten, and some still were. Others were on their second round, while you and Enzo barely started.
“Dale pero no seas puerco salame.” Matías pushed Juani’s head towards the side as he watched how the curly head stuck a whole slice of pizza in his mouth, almost choking.
These two were a mess.
After you finished your pizza you had a few sips of your beer and still tried to calm down anything the boys would be doing. For a moment you got on your phone to check the time and realized it was 1:30 a.m. Until from the corner of your eye, you caught a glance of Enzo sitting next to you.
“¿Entonces?” He darted. His hands rested on his knees that he somewhat was hugging.
“¿Entonces?” You repeated, but knowing what he meant. You wanted to see how long it would take for him to keep asking you.
He sighed with a shake of the head and a smile. “¿Me vas a dejar que te invite a cenar?”
Even though Enzo and you had been broken up for almost a year now, you somehow always felt like there was still a spark left inside your heart for him. Perhaps in the moment of your breakup, you felt like it was all gone. But maybe he was starting to dig deeper into your heart and he was beginning to pull the spark again. Though if he was going to ask you out again you were not going to make it easy for him. You were going to give him the same hard time you did as the first time he asked you.
“Mmm, no lo sé. ¿Será que puedes?” Your words made his eyes glow even more than the dimmed light from the street. His lips let out a chuckle.
“Has lo que quieras. Pero voy a robar tu corazón de nuevo, chiquita.” He smirked. His words with a more serious but yet playful tone.
Your lips pressed together trying not to smile. “Ya te quiero ver intentarlo.” He didn’t even know he was already starting to. But you also didn’t want to give him the privilege of knowing he still had a sort of effect on you.
“Te di mi campera. Eso debe de contar.” He motions towards his jacket that you are wearing, with a raise of eyebrows. You beamed down at it before you skimmed back at him and said—
“Oh, vas a tener que esforzarte más, Vogrincic.”
His eyes looked at you with the most sincere look his eyes could possibly give. You could get lost in them forever.
“Si me dejas-” His voice cut off as he heard a scream from one of the boys making him sigh before he tried again. “Si me dejas, te juro que esta vez no te suelto.”
Enzo was determined to do whatever he had to do to get you back. If he had to move the oceans for you, he was certain he would.
just for you.
And that was another reason for you to start giving him a second chance to win your heart again.
277 notes · View notes
idyllcy · 8 months
Text
baby, you can find me under the lights
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word count: 9.1k
warnings: slow burn, mentions of drugs
summary: Ah, it feels good to be loved.
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Hard. This is. Hard.
Jaime stumbles over his words as Khaji Da warns him for his spike in heartbeat, his head spinning as you stare up at him, blinking owlishly. You look pretty. Seriously, you look gorgeous. He's stumbling over his words just to ask you where his building was. It wasn't even as if he was asking for your number! Seriously, do people like you even exist—
You tilt your head at him, blinking.
asking you to repeat yourself.
nevermind. you do.
"Ah, uh, dios mio—" He pauses. "do you know where the school of biology is? It's my first day here, and—"
You point at the building on the other side, and Jaime sighs. "Oh my god. I'm stupid, so sorry—"
You wave your hand dismissively, smile on your face.
smile holds no menace. seeming to say 'me too'
"Thank you, but really—"
You raise a brow at him.
"Not you. Well, thank you, yes, but not the latter part." He sighs. "I've had a long morning."
You wave bye to him as you rush off into the building.
"Is she mute?"
no signs of vocal cord damage
"So she just." Jaime glances down at his watch, cursing as he realizes he's about to be late to class. "I'll ignore it. Put a tab on her."
got it. unusually high levels of dopamine and adrenaline detected in bloodstream.
"Ignore it." Jaime mumbles. "I just think she's cute."
In retrospect, Jaime has no idea why he would need to keep a tab on you, but he finds it especially helpful when he's met face to face with who the scarab calls you, except it's not really you, it's some person with flamboyant makeup drawn over their face, and Khaji Da insists it's you. All Jaime can notice is how you're a metahuman, a voice as honeyed as a siren's. He shakes his head to try and break free of your voice.
"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" You tilt your head at him, setting him down as you soar back to the supervillain. His jaw stays open before he closes it, realizing the situation.
"Khaji."
a metahuman
"Well, I can't have her fight alone, can I?" Jaime sighs as his armor clasps on, flying next to you, lending you a hand as he blocks a punch. "Having trouble?"
"Appreciate the help." You smile, landing a kick to the villain's face, stepping on it as you send him into the ground. The back of your heel causes a crack to ring and the man's face to cave in, and Jaime stares, eyes wide as Khaji Da tells him that the man's alive and has a high chance of survival. "Are you visiting? Does my city owe a member of the Justice League something?"
"No," Jaime shakes his head. "I... I live here now. I just moved."
"You... alright." You mumble. "For all I know, you could be moving here for retirement."
"Hey, I am not that old." Jaime gasps. "I'm—"
Khaji Da stops him before he can reveal his age. A smarter choice. Jaime really needs to fix his blurting problem.
You raise a brow at him, leaning closer, tilting your head. "You're...?"
"Uh, top secret information." He smiles, trying his best to focus on your face and not the way you were practically sticking on him. It was bad enough that he thought you were cute. He did not need another reason for being head over heels in love with you. Seriously, he's not the type for love at first sight, what kind of witchery do you have?!
You huff, leaning back. "Alright. You do you."
"Are there many villains here?"
"Not really. Just pigface here." You point at the man under you. "Though, you'll probably bring in your fair share of supervillains, huh?"
"I don't have that many."
"Still have some." You hum. "Alright. See you around, beetle boy. I wouldn't recommend sticking around. The police kinda hate us."
Jaime looks at the unconscious man as you fly. "Wait, do we—"
The police arrive as he's cut off, and he races off himself. He did not want a bullet shot at him, but he also did not want to deal with the police so early on in a new city. That could be saved for some time that wasn't right now.
Besides, he has his bio seminar to get to. Seriously, what is with him and arriving late to class?
Turns out, Jaime bumps into you much more than he thinks is coincidental.
First, the two of you bump into each other at the cafeteria, then the two of you meet at the library, then at the gym, and then you share a building at the dorms? Seriously, what is with the two of you and meeting? At this point he might as well call one of you a stalker, and it is most certainly not him. He doesn't think it's you either, especially with how unnerved you are while bumping into him. All you do is wave hello with a small smile and head the other way. Seriously, he was looking creepy. You were cute, he did NOT want to be scaring you off before he could even befriend you. Besides, it's not like his body is— it's... Khaji Da, isn't it.
"¿hermano, la estás acosando?" Jaime mumbles to the scarab. boy, are you stalking her?
I don't know what you're talking about
"'kay, can we cut it down? Seriously, I'd like to not see her every day."
I thought you liked her.
"Thinking someone is cute does not equate to liking them." He groans, swiping his student ID to get his lunch.
I am simply creating more opportunities for the two of you to meet
"Can you not control my body for something like this?" He takes his salad, running a hand through his hair as he crashes into someone. "Oh, I am sosorry—"
You blink up at him, shaking your head.
she says it's fine
"Are you sure? Let me know if I can do anything to make it up to you, really." Jaime nods.
You wave your hand, dismissing him as you head upstairs to find an empty table.
increased heart rate detected
"Oh, dios, please be quiet." Jaime rushes out of the cafeteria, embarrassment all over his face, cheeks flushed with blood.
As he reaches his dorm, he hears the sound of something going off almost comically, and he freezes. Didn't you mention that there weren't many supervillains other than the guy that was arrested recently? Come on.
The cafeteria you were just at. No signs of human damage. The girl is fighting.
Jaime sets his salad down, opening the window, and jumping out, his suit sending him straight to the cafeteria, blasting a piece of wood out of the way as your hand finds itself around the man's throat as Jaime sets down next to you.
"I thought you said there weren't many supervillains here?" Jaime's arm shifts into a taser as he presses it to the man, knocking him out.
"But plenty of frustrated college students." You smile at him. "this one tried bombing the building."
Jaime blinks.
heartbeat steady. Not lying.
"What's your name, by the way?"
"Wouldn't you like to know, beetle boy." You roll your eyes.
"Do you not have a name?"
You tilt your head at him. "And if I do?"
"Why won't you tell me?"
"Who knows. Maybe you'll commit identity fraud." You smile, tapping his chest twice. "Though, you seem a little too tall to steal my identity."
"I won't, so could I please know the name of the partner I'll be working with to fight crime?" Jaime holds his hand out for you, leaning down slightly to stare at you.
"Kinda hard to tell sincerity through those gorgeous yellow eyes of yours, beetle." You give him your hand anyway, shaking it. "Unidentified. Though, the police like calling me Euterpe."
"Like the greek muse?"
"Yeah. In charge of music and stuff." You shrug. "You're just blue beetle because of the suit, huh?"
"Yeah." He pauses. "Are the police coming?"
"They always are." You hum. "Two minutes, maybe."
"How do they know when you don't call?"
"I don't need to." You tilt your head slightly. You point at the students outside the building that Jaime had passed. "They do."
"Are you the school mascot or something?"
"Time's up." You smile. "Alright beetle boy, time to get going."
You speed off into the air as Jaime chases after you. "You didn't answer my question!"
"You have a lot of questions for someone who's just arrived." You come to an abrupt stop as Jaime freezes into place.
"Seriously, how has the Justice League not cataloged you? They sent me a list of everyone in the city and—"
"God, B's just as crazy as I remember him being." You grimace. "I'm not on the catalog— too secretive for his liking. B would really rather not catalog me."
"Why's that."
You pause. "I have a handful of mutant genes instead of just one. Weird superpowers come with all of them. If you really want my file, go find Red Robin at the Titans' tower. He ran a whole sampling of my DNA and everything. The Titans Archive has my file."
"Why doesn't Batman have it?"
"Mm..." You pause. "No time?"
"That man is retired. You have to have a better explanation than just that."
"Can we take it to the dorms? I'm at the point where I think you know who I am anyway." You sigh. "You keep bumping into me on a campus this big. You're practically stalking me."
"I'm not—"
"You're going to have to prove that to me. I see you everywhere." You sigh. "I have a single complex, come on."
"Did you win the lottery?"
"You can do a lot with a voice like mine." You drop onto the roof, suit coming off as you do.
"How'd you get that off?"
"Illusion magic."
"Seriously, you're practically a green lantern." He grimaces. "Or a magician."
"Your suit just came off too, you know?" You raise a brow, swiping your ID. "Does the beetle do that? Can I see the beetle?"
"Next thing I know you'll be asking me to strip for you." Jaime jokes.
"Oh, well, not that I'd be against that, but—" You shut up when you pass a student.
"At least you have a filter." He mumbles.
"How old are you anyway? I was going to ask if you were a fourth year, but from the way you don't know where the bio building is, there's no way you are." You glance at the signs.
"First year."
"Oh, so like, fresh out of high school?"
"No, I took a gap year." he hums. "Now I'm trying to finish college and get into dental school."
"Oooh, big dreams." You mumble. "I'll let you practice on me when you're in dental school."
"It isn't cosmetology, you know?"
"Eh." You shrug. Your keys materialize in your hand as you unlock the door to your dorm. "The fake teeth can only last you for so long. Welcome to my dorm."
"What kind of luck do you have?"
"I told you. My voice." You smile. "Would you like to see it in action? Have the scarab read my lips for you. You'll need earplugs. What's your Starbucks order?"
"A cappuccino. Wh-what are you doing?" Jaime chases after you as you step out of your apartment again, knocking on the door across the hall. You toss him earplugs with a wink, knocking on your neighbor's door. Jaime puts them in as he watches you.
"What?" A guy opens the door, visibly annoyed.
Your lips part, sickly sweet words spilling down your tongue, and Khaji Da speaks.
"could you get me a grande cappuccino and sweetened peach green tea from the Starbucks downstairs? Set it by my door and knock when you finish, please?" You bat your lashes at him twice, and the guy blinks back.
Jaime watches in shock as something glazes over the guy's eyes and he nods at you, heading inside and coming out with his phone in hand, locking his door as he heads down the hall.
"That's one of my abilities." You smile. You reach for the plugs in his ears, and he flinches back slightly, pulling them out himself. "Sorry. Am I too much?"
"It's really hard to have a normal heartbeat around someone like you."
"Honored you would think of me as hot." You smile. "Do you want anything to eat? I cook."
"You got tamales?"
"Oh, I do! I just dropped by one of the cultural clubs' president's house, and she came back with a bag of them. I just don't know how to cook them. Care to help?" You rummage through your freezer, brows furrowed. "Here. Yeah?"
Jaime holds his hand out for you to hand it to him, and he hums. "You got a steamer?"
"Top cabinet on the left of the stove." You hum.
"Do they make you pay utilities here?"
"No." You hum. "Which is why I keep the lights and AC on the entire day. I only turn off the lights in my room when I sleep."
"How much... is it a year?"
You visibly freeze, closing the fridge. "I'd rather not discuss that."
"A lot?"
"I don't look at the bill when I send all of it as fake invoices to Wayne Enterprises." You laugh awkwardly, pulling the steamer out.
warning: rapid heart rate increase.
"Yes, Khaji, I know." He mumbles through his teeth.
"Hm?"
"No, not you." He smiles. "How do I put this? I have a scarab in my back."
"Oh, I know." You smile. "It's pretty... visible when you're at the gym. there's like a huge bump on your back."
"You look at me at the gym?!"
"Hard not to when your back muscles look like that. You got a routine I can follow?" You wiggle your brows jokingly.
"Um, lifting seven hundred pounds worth of metal when a skyscraper falls over."
"Oh, I don't need to do that." You shrug. "I just tell the metal to get out of the way."
"Your voice works on more than just humans?"
You puff your cheeks, looking to the side. "Yes?"
"Do you have like, some cosmic control over the universe or something?"
"I could pull a my little pony princess celestia and tell the sun to go down right now." You bat your lashes innocently.
Jaime blinks owlishly, fear in the back of his mind, confusion on his face. You can what. What in the Mary Sue self insert is that voice of yours? It was like God himself made you extra special, even down to the genetics. A metahuman could have powers that strong? Though, how did you even discover that you could make the sun set? Something else snaps at the thought of your voice being so powerful. Can you command... food to cook?
"Couldn't you just cook the tamales with your voice?"
"I've never really tried that." You pause. "I don't know what works and doesn't work, I just know that I can make the sun set and moon rise."
"YOU'VE TRIED!?"
You ignore him, pulling out a tamale. "Cook, please?"
You toss it in the air as it gets hot instantly, and before Jaime can react, Khaji Da is sending his body to grab a plate and catch the tamale. You blink as Jaime catches it (just barely) and the two of you exhale in relief as Jaime sets the plate down. You blink at the bag and then at the piping hot tamale on the plate, jaw-dropping.
"I never have to cook ever again." You mumble. "Oh my god... this is a revelation. This is so much easier than I ever thought it'd be."
"Though, it might be better to cook it on a plate next time." Jaime mumbles, setting the plate down.
burn detected on left hand.
Jaime grabs your wrist, unfolding your hand as he stares at the wound. "It's hurt."
"Oh, I can just—"
"Do you want me to wrap it for you?" Jaime stares at you, eyes gentle, and your heart soars. Holy fuck he's cute. Yeah, screw the voice thing, he's wrapping it up for you. You're gonna take advantage of this. God, you're going to combust. Holy shit, was someone allowed to look this cute? You need to go outside and touch grass, holy shit.
"Y-yeah! Sure!" You blink, eyes wide. "Please. Thank you. I'll uh, give me a second." You stare at the cabinet. "Open, please."
The cabinet door opens.
"First aid kit, land on the counter, please?"
The kit lands, and you call to close the cabinet as there's a knock on the door. Jaime lets go of your hand, turning to go to the door.
"I'll get i—" You place a hand on Jaime's shoulder, shaking your head.
"Stay, please."
Jaime finds himself stuck in place as you open the door, a smile on your face as you take the drinks.
"Do you need anything else?" It's the same guy as before.
"Nope." You smile. "Thank you."
Jaime watches as the man's eyes return to normal, a confused look on his face as he raises a brow at you.
"Should, I, uh, pay you back for the drinks? How much was it?" You blink prettily at him, and Jaime's heart stops when the guy waves you off.
heart rate quickened. indicated attraction to her.
Holy fuck, were you using pretty privilege on your flatmate?
He leaves eventually, and you place the drinks on the counter. "A hot cappuccino during summer?"
"There's AC in your dorm." Jaime mumbles. "Did you use pretty privilege on him?"
"Oh, silly boy." You laugh. "Everyone thinks I'm the most attractive person ever."
"How?" Jaime tries moving, realizing you had put him in place. "Can I be freed?"
"Thank you for staying still." You smile.
"You don't want a tamale?" He opens the first-aid kit, pulling out the bandages and gauze.
"After I burned myself? I'd rather not." You wince as Jaime disinfects the burn.
"How'd you manage to burn yourself?"
"Erm... not sure!" You hum. "but I cooked the tamale."
"Let's cook it the normal way next time." Jaime mumbles. "You want me to cook anything?"
"Can you cook?"
"Yes, most definitely." Jaime wraps your wound gently, brows pulled into a worried frown. "worked at my tía's diner over summer during my gap year."
"Wow, sounds fun." You hum.
"You ever worked?"
"No." You mumble. "My work is my superhero business. I have a gofundme to help. You'd be surprised at how long of a way a little fanservice goes. Can you just boil me some soft eggs?"
"Runny yolk?"
"Semi." You hum. "I have a sauce in the fridge to marinate the eggs in. Thank you."
"Do you enjoy cooking? You have every single sauce and spice I can imagine." Jaime rummages through your cabinet. "Also, what did you mean earlier by everyone thinks you're the most attractive person ever?"
"Beauty is subjective— yeah, I like cooking— so if I tell myself that I want to be the prettiest person in the world, then everyone sees me slightly differently. It's a little manipulative, but it gets the job done." You mumble.
"What about the creeps?"
"I can fight." You hum.
"Is there a reason you need to come off as that way?"
"Only when I'm in suit." You hum. "I look perfectly plain when I'm out of the superhero face."
"And what's this fanservice of yours?"
You smile, your cheeks pulling up but your eyes unchanged. "My onlyfans is linked on my twitter."
Jaime chokes as he turns off the sink, neck-snapping to look at you. "W-what?"
"That was a joke." You hum. "It's just a gofundme. I'm... I'm close with a good number of fans. It's like Superman, you catch my drift?"
"He does have a good relationship with the citizens of Metropolis."
"Yeah, and Batman's hated by all." You snort. "That's a joke. Gotham would kill for that man."
"They would?"
"Ask a Gothamite what they think about Batman and you get an annoyed grunt, but lasso them with the lasso of truth, and they'll admit that they're actually grateful for the man." You lean on the palm of your head. "Thank you for making me the most attractive person ever."
Nothing changes for Jaime as he blinks at you. He blinks a couple more times at you, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him, but you look the exact same. The realization causes a smile to break onto his face slowly, eyes warm and affectionate as he looks at you. You're already pretty to him. How beautiful.
"So? You like how I look?"
"You look the same." Jaime hums, jumping when the water nearly boils over, opening the cap as he places the eggs in. "shit."
You laugh, chest flushed with warmth, shy smile on your lips. Your chest feels overwhelmingly full, like a piece of it that had been lost was returned to you, making you whole again. God, he can't just say that to you and expect you to not fall for him. You grimace inwardly. Falling at the slight sign of affection. How classic of you. Though, your chest is warm, and that was always a good feeling to have. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." He blinks at you.
increasing heart rate—
"Please, not now." He hisses.
"Does the beetle speak?"
"To me." Jaime mumbles. "He's like a voice in my head."
"Could I suggest putting an earbud in to pretend you're on the phone so you don't look insane?"
Jaime pauses. "Huh. I've never considered that."
"Yeah." You mumble. "It gets people off your ass."
"How come you don't speak when you're walking around?" He raises a brow. "I thought you were mute until the scarab identified you as the hero."
You shrug. "It's easier."
"Easier for what?"
You shrug. "People don't talk to you much when you don't speak."
"Do you want me to peel the eggs for you?" Jaime lifts the pot into the sink.
"Oh, no, it's fine. Thank you." You hum, getting out of the seat. You wave him off as you pour the water out, focusing on the eggs. "Peel the shell off cleanly, please."
The eggshells detach perfectly, and you open your fridge, pulling out the sauce.
"Are you in any clubs?"
"Acapella Choir and Writer's United." You mumble. "I also hang out with the kids in musical theater."
"I forgot that was a major here."
"We're a surprisingly art-oriented school for one with such a good stem program." You seal the container again, putting it in the fridge. "Clean yourselves, please."
The dishes turn clean with a swirl, and you place them in the dish machine to dry.
"What's the magic word?" Jaime raises a brow.
You smile. "Can't say it."
"Why not?"
"Then it'll come true." You hum. "I think you've listened enough times for it."
"How come you don't fight crime with it?" He hums. "Your voice would do wonders."
You hum. "It wears my voice out."
"Do you speak to your professors?"
"Yeah?" You raise a brow.
"But you don't speak to students?"
"I speak when necessary." You shrug.
"So telling me where the bio building wasn't necessary?"
"No." You sigh. "Of course not. Oh, right. I never learned your civilian name. I can't just keep calling you beetle boy."
"Jaime. Jaime Reyes." He holds his hand out for you, and you take it, your own name spilling past your lips.
Jaime finds that you're not as much of a red flag as you came off as. You bump into him every now and then, nodding as you do, and then you rush off for your classes. Jaime only ever gets to speak to you while on duty, wrestling the criminals to the ground as you knock them out. He doesn't get to speak to you very much— the police have gotten much faster with arriving at the scene of the crime. Usually, by the time he's chased after you, you've already detransformed and gone to class. Seriously, your schedule is appalling. How many units are you even taking?
"Alright, I know you're in there. Come on, open up." Jaime knocks on your door for the nth time, and you finally, finally open it, sighing at him.
"What do you want?"
"To hang out? Seriously, I haven't made any friends since coming here other than you, and that's only because you and I fight crime together!"
"That does not sound like a me problem." You deadpan.
"I brought tea."
"Oh, why didn't you start with that?" You open the door fully, letting Jaime in. "I'll let you chill for a bit, but I have somewhere to go in a little."
"Where? It's 7pm on a Tuesday." He sets the tea on the counter, raising a brow.
"Frat party starts at 8 but you're technically supposed to get there starting 9. No one ever goes on time." You hum. "Did you want to stay the night?"
"No. That'd be a little..." He pauses. "Mami raised a man better than that."
You bark out a laugh. "That's sweet. Thank your mom for that, please. Not many women end up with such sweethearts of children."
"Are you calling me a sweetheart?" Jaime grins.
"Mm, sure." You hum. "Much better than half of the men on campus, that's for sure."
"Why are you going to a frat party?"
"For the vibes." You hum. "I also got news that something was going to happen there, so you gotta be prepared, you know? It's halfway across campus."
"Should I go?"
"If you want." You hum. "Give me a sec, I'll move everything to the island."
"Do you need help?" He cranes his neck as you disappear into the corridor.
"I'll be fine." You call.
Jaime watches as you move a bag and mirror onto the table, and he watches in silence as you start your makeup.
spike of dopamine in bloodstream. hermano, do something. ask her out.
"No!" Jaime hisses. "she's going to think it's creepy!"
"What's creepy?" You raise a brow at him, amusement on your lips.
"Nothing! Khaji is speaking." Jaime avoids your eyes.
"Is that the beetle's name?" You go back to the makeup.
"Yes."
You hum back, finishing with your makeup, pausing.
"Couldn't you have the magic do it?"
"Yeah, but," You sigh. "it only knows how to do my hero look."
"It's taught?"
"I can make it copy images on a screen, but I dont have that many products to work off of." You hum. "You want me to do your makeup?"
"I'm good." Jaime mumbles. "Is a frat party even safe?"
"Depends on the person. Is it icky? Yes. Is it fun to feel individualization in a crowd of strangers? Also yes." You hum.
"Don't you get hit on if you..." He pauses. "no. you're not in costume."
"I sure am going to get hit on if I transform, though." You hum. "It's happened before. They like spiking poison or toxins in frat party drinks. Can Khaji Da scan water for toxins?"
yes.
"He said yes." Jaime mumbles.
"Then go with me?" You smile at him awkwardly. "Please? Maybe you'll make friends there too. Hm? Didn't you come in complaining about how you didn't know anyone here?"
Jaime sighs. "I'm not drinking, though."
"Oh, yeah. Your boundaries still matter, obviously." You pause. "Don't Mexican families throw huge parties and drink there?"
"Sorry, let me rephrase that. I'm not drinking frat house beverages." Jaime corrects himself. "Someone's saliva could be in it for all I know."
"'kay, yeah, that makes sense." You mumble. "Are you just going to go in that?"
"What do you mean?"
"Mm." You think for a moment, staring at Jaime. "You know what. Yeah. The shirt's fine. Unbutton two buttons and you'll be fine."
"Huh?"
"Do you need me to do it?" You raise a brow. "They won't let you in if you look too formal, but they also won't let you in if you look too casual. Well, that's a lie. They'd let you in if you were in a tank top, but since you can't... at least try and look like a frat boy."
"I'm hurt." Jaime scoffs as you step close to him.
"Can I?"
"Do what you must."
You reach a hand into his hair, messing it up first, blinking slowly at his face. Jaime holds his breath as you're practically stuck on him, chest pressed to his, and he swears his heartbeat is scarily quick right now. He stares down at your eyes as you stare at his hair, fingers pulling gently to mess it up more than it was. In fact, he should be—
warning: quickened heart beat.
There it is.
Jaime curses under his breath, and you stop, blinking up at him as he leans back.
"Hm?"
"That's the scarab. My heart's beating too fast." He avoids your gaze again, looking up at the ceiling.
"So like, a defense mechanism?" You tilt your head. "Can I... unbutton your shirt slightly?"
"Yeah, uh, sure." He holds his breath as you slide it open slightly, freezing in place when you stare at his chest for a little too long. "You alright?"
"Yeah." You mumble, pulling away, hiding your face. "Yeah. I'm fine. God."
detected increased heart rate.
"You sure?" He tilts his head to get a better look at you, noticing your skin has flushed darker. Ah. So you were flustered too.
"You wanna go?" You finally speak up. "We should get going. It's across town."
"We can fly there. Well, you can."
"I'm not flying for a frat party."
"And you'll walk?"
"At least I won't be drunk." You mumble. "Besides, I can just sleep on one of the benches here. At least we don't have anti-homeless architecture on this campus."
"What's with all the crime on campus anyway?"
"Oh, you didn't know? Everyone here is tied into crime in some way." You smile, opening your fridge. "there's correlation between creativity and sociopathic tendencies, after all."
Jaime blinks slowly. "What."
stable heart beat. Not lying.
"Heros end up desensitized too." You pull out the whipped cream, squirting it right into your mouth as you swallow. You lick your lips as you set the bottle back into the fridge."Come on."
The school is shaped more and more like a prison, Jaime thinks. The architecture is shooting proof, and all the windows are bulletproof. He wasn't sure if it was because of safety worries or the amount of crime. The school wasn't known for crime, so it was a little strange being told that petty crime was common in the school. Well, maybe it was. It's probably less than whatever's going on in Gotham anyway.
"Is... petty crime common here?" Jaime winces at how uncertain he sounds.
"It's..." You pause. "It's not that common, actually. It just seems that ever since you came, our crime rate has gone up."
"Pinning the blame on me?" Jaime fakes offense.
"Yeah." You joke. "Any plans on how to make friends?"
"Any tips?"
"Find the people who are in the corner." You mumble. "Or something. I don't know. Get to know people over drinks. Just have the beetle scan the drinks for anything bad for you."
"What should I not touch?"
"The punch. The beer is usually fine. The beer tends to be canned."
"And the vodka?"
"It's alright. I take a shot of punch for liquid confidence, though." You hum. "But today I can't. I'll just have to shoot straight vodka."
"Or you could just, not drink?"
You shrug, getting to the door of the house, a guy greeting you.
"Ay! You're back!" He grins.
You grin back. "I brought a friend today. That's alright, right?"
"For you, sugarlips? Always."
You lick your lips, winking as you step into the house, Jaime in tow, his hand in yours.
half of the people here's bloodstream have high concentration of alcohol already. beware.
"Got it." Jaime mumbles, following behind you as you squeeze through the crowd. He gets a couple of looks, raised brows in interest and flirty winks. He wonders if you get this often too. Well, if you came and went looking like that, then surely you would. Maybe that's why everyone calls you a nickname. Jaime grows frustrated as he thinks of it. Did you have someone else?
"Sugarlips!" A guy wraps an arm around your shoulder, smiling. "Come back for more?"
"Brought a friend today." You point at Jaime.
The guy doesn't even bother looking at Jaime. "Your boy?"
"Not quite." You smile. "Hands off of him, though. You wouldn't mind telling the girlies that, would you?"
"No worries." He gives you a wink. "Should I tell the boys to keep their hands off too?"
Jaime nods at you, squeezing your hand gently.
"Please." you lick your lips, a smile on your face.
"Watch the punch for me, will you? Don't want anyone drugging it."
"We'll watch the punch." You nod.
"Of course, sugar." He laughs, nodding at Jaime as he heads back into the crowd.
"Well?" You tilt your head at Jaime as he stares at the punch.
Stick your finger in it for more thorough analysis. I can't tell anything without contact.
"Need a cup."
You grab a red solo cup, scoop the drink without the ladle and hand it to him. Jaime blinks twice at the liquid before giving up. Oh well, it's a frat party. What can he do about it?
"Is it always this messy?" Jaime sticks his finger in, waiting for the analysis.
"Occasionally it's worse." You hum. "So? Did you find anything?"
Unknown aphrodisiac toxin detected. Rohypnol drug detected. Liquid alcohol content 37%.
"Rophynol and an unknown aphrodisiac." Jaime repeats. "Alcohol content is 37%."
"Remove the flunitrazepam from the punch, please." You mumble quietly, the water swirling slowly from people's drinks. The powder hangs in the air as you open a plastic bag. "put the flunitrazepam into the bag, please." The powder swirls into the bag, and Jaime watches as you tuck it into your pocket. The crowd of people with drinks don't notice at all, not even when something bubbles out of their drinks.
"Then?" He raises a brow.
"Go have fun." You hum, flicking the cap off of the vodka. "Or have Khaji Da scan the people to figure out who decided to put the date rape drug in the punch, but not my problem." You pour yourself a shot. "I already figured it out when I walked in."
You tilt your head as you watch the vodka pour into the glass, eyes glistening as you do, eyes gentle and tired, and Jaime finds something in your eyes. He's not quite sure what it is, the spotty lights in the living room painting your skin different colors, but there's something about you, he supposes. Even in the way he takes your outfit in, finally, staring too hard at your face. Reds and greens dance across it, leading down to your shoulder. Something glistening on your arm catches his attention.
"You have powder on your shoulder." He reaches to wipe it. "who was it?"
"It's fine." You brush him off, putting the vodka back on the table. "Want a shot?"
Jaime furrows his brows, your name slipping past his lips. "who was it?"
Your name sounds like honey coming from him as you down the shot. God, you were down bad.
"Seriously, who is it?" Jaime knows at this point, only one person had touched your shoulder, but he wants to hear it from your mouth.
"Guy who had his hand on my shoulder. That's why he asked me to guard the drinks. Be right back." You smile at him, slipping into the crowd, going to find the girl he had his hands on.
Jaime tries following after you but loses you in the crowd, grimacing. You were probably looking for the guy who drugged everyone. "Khaji. Find her."
upstairs bedroom second on the left.
Jaime squeezes past the crowd to try and find you. If the guy was capable of drugging the punch, then god knows what he was capable of doing to you if you went alone. Sure, you can fight, but what if something does happen? He didn't want you getting hurt, even if he knew you could fight without a problem.
sounds like you like the girl
"Khaji, can you please," He slams the door open, staring as you have the man on the ground, heel pressed on his windpipe, the girl still unconscious on the bed. Jaime lets out a breath in relief as he steps over to you, Spanish spilling past his lips before he can think too much. "gracias a dios. ¿mi vida, qué demonios estás haciendo? ¡No huyas solo!" thank god. my life, what are you doing? Don't run off by yourself!
You blink in surprise as he breaks into scolding in Spanish, grabbing you by the arms, tilting your head to get a proper look for any bruises that could have landed on you, cursing you out for running off on your own, and you blink trying to keeping up with his words. At some point you press a hand over his mouth, pointing down at the man under you. Jaime follows your finger, remembering that you're stepping on a man's neck. You... crazy. Only you. He hears Khaji Da laugh in his head.
"We've really got a knack for speaking when you have a man's throat under your foot, huh?" Jaime mumbles, furrowing his brows. "Let him go."
"You called me mi vida." You press your chest to his, staring at him, batting your lashes. The pet name sends blood rushing to your head, drunk on the way it sounded so sweet falling from his lips. Did he mean it? Did he mean it when he called you his life? "Did you mean it?"
"It slipped out."
from your unconscious maybe.
"Khaji, shut up." Jaime hisses, face impossibly flushed. "Get off the man before he dies."
You step off of him, the man long passed out.
"Is he still breathing?"
breathing: stable
Jaime exhales quietly.
"So? Mi vida?" You smile cheekily, pointing at yourself. "Am I tu vida?"
Jaime tries avoiding the topic. You're a little tipsy right now. "You literally had a single shot. How are you already–"
blood alcohol content from breath: .06
"Seriously?!" Jaime grimaces as you stare up at him, expecting an answer, cheeks puffed out and frown on his face. "Will you get off of me if I say yes?"
"Depends if you're being honest." You grin, pressing your ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. "Push me off if you're uncomfortable."
"Seriously, you're drunk. You're probably not even conscious of half of the stuff you're doing." Jaime peels you from him, throwing you over his shoulder.
"EEK!! I'm being carried like a sack of potatoes!" You shriek, laughing. The alcohol is really messing with your brain. "I'll stay in the room. Go call for the guy at the door we greeted earlier. He'll know how to deal with this."
"I thought frathouses let things like this slide?" He sets you down on the bed next to the girl.
"Not this one. Especially not when he actually planned on doing something." You beam at him, eyes closed, lips quirked upward. "So, could you?"
"If you say the magic word." He tilts his head. He could have a little fun with you.
"That would make it a command." You mumble. "How about something I can give you? Go make a friend downstairs. Give him a friend, p—"
Jaime presses his hand to your mouth. "I don't need the help, thank you."
You blink slowly at him, licking his palm.
"Where'd you even learn that?!" He pulls his had away with a grimace.
"Go get the guy at the door." You groan. "I want to leave if you aren't going to make any friends."
"I'll take you home and then come back to make some friends if you really want me to." Jaime mumbles.
"It'll be too late by then. The police are coming soon."
"Huh?"
"Noise complaints." You shrug. "They break up around 1 or 2 am, so it'll be soon."
"It's been that long?!"
"Go get the guy from the door!" You land in the bed with a thud, sighing. "God, before I kiss you or something. Hurry up."
"Huh?" Jaime freezes in his tracts, turning around to stare at you.
"Don't you wanna know why they call me sugarlips?" You pout, resting your pinky on your bottom lip as you jut it out. You pull it down with a pop, blood rushing to Jaime's head as you do. He needs to leave before he does something to you. God, his self-control could only last him so long.
"That's definitely the alcohol talking." Jaime mumbles frantically, shutting the door behind him. His ears and face feel eerily warm despite being sober.
Ugh, you were a force to be reckoned with.
He hauls you out eventually, flying you to the dorm instead of walking, worried that you'd get hit on, even as he unlocks the door with his ID, you mumble quietly, half-asleep, half-conscious.
"Wake up. I don't know where your key is." Jaime shakes you gently. "Come on."
"Call me mi vida again." You whisper.
He complies, setting you down, a hand around your waist for support. "Mi vida, get your key, will you?"
You fish out the key, unlocking the dorm room. "Wanna stay the night?"
"I'm two floors down. It's fine." He mumbles.
key replication made
"What." Jaime freezes at Khaji's update. "excuse me?"
"Hm?" You raise a brow, door half-open.
"Not you. Shower and go to sleep when you get in." He sighs. "Yeah?"
"Can I have a goodbye ki—"
Jaime shoves you into your dorm, slamming the door closed as he holds it in place, heart racing, cheeks flushed, lips parted as he desperately tries to catch his breath. God. You are such a force to be reckoned with. He's going to get a heart attack with you around sometime. You're twice as bad when you're drunk. But hell did he want to kiss you. Too bad you were drunk. He couldn't think of taking advantage of you like that, even if you were the one who asked.
Jaime makes a mental note to keep you away from alcohol next time.
The next time you see Jaime, the two of you are actually fighting someone again. Your suit is on, your voice stopping the metal from slamming onto the civilians as you evacuate them. Jaime focuses on the man himself, hand transforming into a blaster as he shoots at the villain. Didn't you say most of the crime was minuscule in comparison with other cities? Well, this was minuscule compared to how many beetles he's fought because of who he was. At least there weren't other beetles in the city.
"I thought you said there weren't supervillains in this city!" He yells at you, voice coming out altered.
"They don't come often!" You yell, turning your attention to the metal. "Fall, please."
The metal slams down onto the ground as you tackle Jaime out of the way.
"Why did you let it fall?!"
"I can't hold things up for too long my throat hurts!" You shriek, turning to face the floating criminal." Pass out, right now, please!"
The supervillain drops on the ground with a thud, and you exhale, faceplanting into Jaime's suit with a sigh. You stay there for a couple of seconds, catching your breath, groaning as you finally sit up straight. Jaime can feel the plush of your skin despite the suit's barrier, and it is not something to feel while the adrenaline after a fight dissolves in his system.
"It was that easy!?" He rests on his arms, suit scanning the unconscious criminal.
"My throat hurts." You mumble, walking over to where the criminal was passed out. "Two minutes until police come."
"I'll fly you." He sits up with you, linking his arms behind your back and under your legs, wings fluttering as he soars into the sky. "Who pays reparation fees?"
"Taxes." You cough. "Ow."
"Stop talking!"
"Stop asking me questions— heUG." You reach to grab your throat, grimacing.
"Alright. Stop talking until we can figure out how to get your voice back without killing you." He groans. "At this point we might as well live on the dorm roof."
You grimace.
"Was your throat damaged when we met the first day?"
You shake your head.
"Oh, so you just hated me."
You lunge at him, annoyed.
initiating rough translation... "Are you crazy!? Do you know how much energy it takes to knock a supervillain out with my voice? You think I'm superman?! I didn't hate you the first day, I just didn't think it was worth the effort!"
"Don't lunge at me while I'm flying!" Jaime shrieks, nearly dropping you as he lands on the roof with a crash. "I didn't know! I can't analyze your entire genetic structure just from looking at you, you know?!"
"would you like to see me naked, then?"
"NO!" Jaime yells, leaning back as you shift on his lap. "Dios, now everyone's going to know that I landed on the roof. Hurry up on back to your place now."
"Jaime, pretty boy."
"What?" He tries to ignore the way the back of his head rushes with warmth at the pet name.
"I can't detransform without my voice."
Jaime freezes in place, blinking at you slowly as he lunges to grab you by the shoulders. "Speak. Detransform right now—"
"I CAN'T."
"You know," Jaime pauses. "I'm impressed that you can tell, Khaji. How are you reading her body language so well?"
unlike you, I have been observing her body language. she is a suitable person for you to date.
"WHAT." Jaime chokes, coughing to get the spit caught in his throat out. You jolt as he rests his head on your chest, coughing profusely.
Jaime, I need to see her in order to translate. Though, her heartbeat is abnormally fast.
Jaime looks up at you, where you're looking down at him, lips parted in embarrassment, eyes wide with confusion, skin flushed with warmth. Jaime probably doesn't look much better under the suit right now, his own heart fighting to break through his ribcage. You're just... so pretty. He stares at you a little too hard, eyes drinking in your figure, forgetting how close you are to him.
"Can I kiss you?"
That cuts Jaime out of his thoughts as he leans away from you. "I did not need to hear you ask if you could kiss me with the scarab's voice."
You blink at him owlishly, mischief dancing in your eyes.
"No." He answers. "Not with Khaji's voice asking me."
"will you go on a d—"
"NOT WITH HIS VOICE ASKING ME!" Jaime cries.
You grin at him cheekily, scooching close to press yourself to his chest again. You rest your cheek on his chest, lips curling upward as you bat your lashes. You like messing with him, he finds.
"Then my own?" Your lips pull further up, and Jaime swallows while staring at your lips.
"You didn't lose your voice?" He stumbles over himself as you blink.
"Not quite. It hurt for a bit, but my self-healing ability is quite impressive too. So?" You hum. "Can I?"
"Yeah, sure, mi vida," He mumbles, the helmet on his head coming off as he presses his lips to yours, lashes fluttering as your body arches to sink into him. His hand wraps around your wrist as he leans a little more in to get a better taste of your lips, another hand moving to the back of your head, tilting it as he stares at you through his lashes. He understands your nickname now, your lips do taste sweet, even when you haven't downed whipped cream. Ugh, he could spend eternity just making out with you, slowly, gently, without a care in the world. He pulls gently on your hair, leaning further in as he licks your bottom lip, exhaling more as his tongue darts past your pretty lips into your mouth. Your hand moves to press on his chest, whimpering as he tugs on your hair a little too hard.
You're just so pretty to him.
He lets out a sigh of satisfaction as you pull away for air, lips parted, eyes glazed over, a strand of saliva connecting your mouths.
Jaime reaches to wipe the saliva from your mouth with his thumb, smiling gently as he does.
God. Shit. He's in love with you.
unusually high levels of dopamine and adrenaline detected in bloodstream. quickened heartbeat warning.
"Can I kiss you again?" Jaime whispers.
"Yeah." You whisper back, smiling so hard your eyes crinkle.
Fingers in your hair and lips slotted against yours, Jaime thinks this is heaven for him. Even as the two of you have detransformed, still stuck on the roof of the dorms, your hands on his chest as he sinks further into your touch, smiling against your lips as you hum, the vibrations of your chest traveling to his as a pleasant buzz. Jaime closes his eyes all the way, and he only pulls away when you do, the gentle fondness still present in his eyes as he looks at you.
Yeah. That was what this is. Love.
The same love that was present in his mother's eyes, yet different from the love that was for his family. This love was newer— it made his skin crawl and his heart race, but it wasn't unpleasant. He felt giddy and boyish, falling for someone like this— he felt like it was having a first love, your cheeks flushed and ears red, shy glances stolen in a room full of people, only seeing you under the spotlight when other people existed. Jaime wanted to relish in this forever— the feeling of your skin pressed to his, he would stay with you forever if he could— If you'd let him.
"So?" You smile. "Know why now?"
Jaime pauses to stare at the way the sun shines through your hair and coats you in a glow of gold, his hands still on you as he looks up, a smile on his face. A laugh breaks past his lips at your smile, the happiness from finally having you in his arms sending blood through his body and genuine bliss through his system. Ah. Right. This was heaven to him— to have you in his arms and a smile on his face, the sun not even as bright as the way your eyes crinkle while looking at him, adoring him to the ends of the earth. Ah, it feels good to be loved.
"Mm..." Jaime hums playfully. "Maybe I'll know if you kiss me again."
"God, I think I just unleashed a monster."
"Your fault for being so irresistable, mi vida." He goes back to your lips, humming happily as he does.
Your relationship doesn't change much at first. The two of you are exclusive, yes, but neither of you have put a label on the relationship. Other than the making out in your dorm and occasionally while fighting, not much has really changed. You both have your classes, and you both have things that you are busy with. You wonder if you guys are just friends with benefits, then. Though, judging from the way Jaime looked at you, there was no way the guy thought you both were just friends.
Then, Jaime starts bringing food over to your dorm, clinging onto you while the two of you huddle on the couch with a movie playing in the background. You find yourself in his arms as you listen to his heartbeat at night, and suddenly the single dorm is a double, Jaime squished on your bed next to you, sprawled out with an arm around you lovingly as the two of you sleep. You're... definitely not friends with benefits. You're practically dating, huh?
"I'm here!" Jaime calls from the door, holding a bag of takeout with a bouquet in the other arm.
"What is it today?" You take the flowers from him with a smile.
"Bart visited today." He hums. "Said there was a good bagel place downtown he visited before."
"Ooh." You mumble. "Did you try it?"
"No, but I ordered something I figured you'd like." He takes out the boxes, sliding yours to you, smile on his face.
"Jaime, can I call you mi amor?" You tilt your head.
"You can call me whatever you want, mi vida." He hums. "Just you."
ew.
"Khaji, shush." He hisses at the beetle.
You open the takeout box, grinning at the bagel. "We should make this here."
"We should." He hums. "You'd probably make a better one too."
"Should have Bart judge it." You chew on the bagel, pausing. "Are we... dating?"
"Yeah. Why wouldn't we be?" Jaime pauses. "Oh. I forgot to ask you out, huh? Wait, I can prepare something nice and then as—"
"Jaime, go out with me?" You tilt your head, smile crinkling your eyes, your cheeks pulled upward with a foolish grin.
"Yes." he breathes. "Yes, mi vida. Forever and always, it's a yes."
You hum, pulling a flower out of the bouquet and tucking it behind his ear. "There. Now we're actually dating."
"Mi vida." He spins your chair to face him, arms gripping both sides, smile on his face. "Can I have a kiss?"
"For you? Always yes." You set the bagel down, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Though, I probably taste like bagel right now."
"You always taste good." Jaime mumbles, pressing his lips to yours.
And it's gentle, the way that Jaime loves. He presses his fingers into your skin and wraps his arms around you, relishing in the warmth you give him, and to him, you can do no wrong. Even if you make mistakes, he's there for you, slowly, gently, always there to anchor and weigh you down. You'll do the same for him, fingers threading through his hair, skin warm on his, a smile and voice reserved for him.
and god did Jaime love you for it.
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adorkastock · 2 months
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Since tumblr has betrayed its userbase (months ago they said they wouldn't pull smthg like this, and now here they are, not mentioning their new AI partners but it's Midjourney and OpenAI, that cat freaking LEAPT out of the bag)...are you staying on tumblr? Or are you looking for alternatives?? Seems as tho suddenly a lot of users are deleting stuff, leaving online altogether or moving somewhere like cohost or pillowfort.
I have a Masto that I don't update a ton but I'm hoping to pick that up more soon. I also have been active-ISH on bsky and I might end up more active there soon since it's been quite pleasant. Idk it's just so exhausting to always have to keep jumping around. AdorkaStock.com gets regular poses, three times a week. You can alway subscribe to my email list. There's options for what types of emails you get so you can do like just poses, or poses and updates, etc. I'm still active on Patreon and there's free following options there, and I make free posts ~2/mo ish. I'm also pretty active on Imgur of all places these days. I will theoretically still be here for a while, as I am sort of still on DA until I can fully move everything to my site (which as you can imagine is like kind of a lot). I want to be where the artists are, right? I want to see your art and I want you to have my resources, so I try to be almost everywhere. Even still occasionally posting on the dumpsterfire that is Twitter/X. Emotionally though I was getting really cozy on Tumblr. 💔
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krenenbaker · 6 months
Text
Trick or Treat~!
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Pairing: Che'nya x Floyd (could be read platonically or romantically)
Summary: It's finally Halloween night, but Floyd is in a bit of a slump. However, the arrival of a curious companion may just make the Halloween party a bit more interesting for him.
Notes: This is my first attempt at something following a prompt - specifically, "Trick or Treat" for the 2023 TWST Rarepair Halloween event. I'm trying to get more comfortable/practiced with writing prose (which is why this wasn't posted on the 30th... oops), and only vaguely ended up following the prompt. I'm fairly happy with how this little piece turned out, though!
Tags: @dove-da-birb, @azulashengrottospiano, @inkybloom-luv, @eynnwwyjth, @officialdaydreamer00 (please let me know if you'd like to be included or excluded from future writing of mine, or only want to be included in specific types of creations)
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Floyd wanted to take a break. 
It was Halloween, and all he had done the entire week was work, work, work. Getting costumes ready, decorating, helping with their dorm's presentation, plus cooking and serving at the Lounge, all on top of normal classes? 
Sure, it was fun, especially getting to show off Octavinelle's cool setup, and 'taking care of' those misbehaving visitors. But now? Everything felt draining and boring, and Floyd simply wanted to leave, which sucked because the actual Halloween party had just started!  
Maybe he should just ditch and go back to his dorm; being in a funk when everyone else is having fun around you is not enjoyable.  He slumped down on a bench and unwrapped a sweet he had picked up earlier, before wrapping it up again. Ugh, not even in the mood for that candy he wanted only a few minutes ago. 
As he shoved the sweet back into his pocket and was about to get up from the bench to leave, Floyd heard a rustle behind him. Someone was quietly humming, and… laughing? The sound gradually moved to his side, towards the empty side of the bench.  
“Trick or treat~”
Floyd turned to face the voice. "Listen, man, I'm not in the mood to—” he froze, staring at the figure beside him. “Hang on a second, where's your body!?"
A toothy smile came to the face of the head that currently floated beside Floyd. "Oh, it's here.... or maybe it's there." A pair of hands materialized on either side of this boy's head, followed by the rest of his body. 
“I'm just kidding. Mind if I take a seat? I’d like to rest up before I keep purrowling around and startling people.”
Floyd blinked, then raised an eyebrow. “Uh, go for it.” 
This guy was... weird, and it was hard to tell if he'd be annoying, or interesting. "You don't go here, do ya? At least, I’ve never seen you before. And you’re no ghost, either.”
The cat-like boy shook his head, his jewellery jingling softly. "I'm just passing through for the festivities and collecting treats. Scaring some people, too. That’s loads of fun. And it's always nice to see my friends let loose." 
Floyd had a vague memory surface. "Ohh... you must be that RSA boy who's friends with Sea Turtle and Goldfishie." 
"'Sea Turtle' and 'Goldfishie', hey? Those are good names for my green and red friends. Cats are known for liking fish." He leaned forward, his grin growing. “Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Floyd nodded, “Floyd Leech. It's nice to meet you, too.” He looked curiously at the boy beside him, taking in his shaggy hair, piercings, and impish smile.
"You're not what I expected.” Floyd smiled, "But you seem fun, Catfish. I didn't think Goldfishie would get along with someone so... interesting."
Che'nya's eyes lit up slightly. "Catfish? Heh heh heh, most people call me Che'nya, but I guess that works. And I’ve heard some… interesting stories about you, too."
He stretched his legs out in front of him, leaning back with his arms behind his head as he sighed. "But yeah, I don't think Riddle could shake me if he tried." 
"I'm almost jealous." Floyd tipped his head slightly. "Most of the time, Goldfishie likes to swim away before I can play with him."
Che'nya laughed, "Well, if you're wondering, he 'swam off' that way." He pointed off to the side. “Just don’t be rough with him. I don’t like people mistreating my friends.”
Floyd looked off into the crowd where he had pointed, and let out a small laugh. “Alright, good to know. Maybe I’ll find him later, if I feel like it��, he smiled and sat back. “And Goldfishie’s stronger than he looks, but I guess you’d know that.”
Che’nya nodded, then leaned closer with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know, I bet we could do something that would really surprise him.” 
Floyd turned slightly towards Che’nya, and flashed a smile. “Yeah, we probably could. I think we should talk more in the future, Catfish. You seem pretty fun.” 
Che’nya grinned, “You seem pretty fun, too.”
"Well,” he stretched his arms above his head. “I think I’m going to go and find some more treats… and play some more tricks tonight. I'll catch you around, Floyd." 
With a haunting giggle echoing in his ears, Floyd watched as the boy beside him faded into nothingness, just the same way he had arrived. 
What a weird guy.
Floyd unwrapped the candy he had pocketed earlier, then popped it into his mouth. Maybe this party was worth staying at after all.
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ceilidho · 4 months
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1800s mail order bride [price/reader] for da wip game
i haven't yet gotten around to writing more of this fic (it's listed as complete on ao3 because i feel like it leaves off at a good place so if i never get back around to it, im fine with that, but the door is still open enough for me to return.
without having given this too much thought, this is what i would probably write if i were to make this into a proper fic (huge spoilers below because i'm basically outlining the entire plot):
after the scene in the sheriff's office, Price whisks you off to the local judge to be wed; this is where you come back to yourself and start protesting and denying that you're the girl he's waiting for
Price then says something about how "if you're not her, then who are you?" and brutally interrogates you about your identity (he thinks you're lying and he's just trying to make the truth come out) but you're still too nervous to say anything about who you are and where you're from because, remember, you just left a city where you killed someone. you have no idea how much information has been disseminated or whether you're a wanted woman. at one point you make up a lie about being "elizabeth smith from Rhode Island" and he challenges that by saying "we'll contact your kin then and have them confirm" (essentially saying you're under house arrest with him / in the town until someone related to "elizabeth smith" telegrams from R.I. or sends a letter)
you never actually give in and just go "fine, i'm the woman you've been corresponding with" but Price sees all these holes in your story as evidence that you are her and he's convinced that "your guilty heart brought you here to me anyway." There's basically nothing you can do to avoid being married off to him.
you're basically shell shocked the entire time at the court house and then on the trip back to the inn to collect your belongings to bring to Price's house.
the first night at his place is rough. you're basically like a feral cat the whole time - still insisting that he's got the wrong woman, indignant and furious when he thinks he has the right to put his hands on you and touch you (Price just lifts his brow at that because like...you are his wife now so really it's a moot point), and locking yourself in his bedroom the second the two of you are home.
Price finds all of this very amusing. he has stuff to do around the property anyway, so he lets you lock yourself in the room for a couple hours.
eventually he does just unlock the door with a key he has on top of the doorframe (you thought you were safe in there but oops nope). there's some conversation about "wifely duties" that has you screaming and spitting at him before he threatens to put you over his knee again, so you clam up and get a bit teary, which makes Price soften. (good excuse for me to write a soft but firm version of Price shushing you and drawing you into his embrace)
anyway, the middle of this story would be all slow, tender sex and you having to get used to being Price's wife while always keeping one eye out for any news of there being a warrant out for your arrest. you get spooked once by a man in town asking about any newcomers (maybe you're in a shop and you overhear him ask the cashier while you're behind a shelf) and try to flee, but Price tracks you down and he's sooooo mad when the two of you get home. like sex is rough that night.
events i'd want to have happen:
someone comes sniffing around town for you (bounty hunter maybe) and you try running away (unsuccessful, but you're mildly reassured when you hear the man has left town by the next day because everyone thinks of you as Price's wife so no one thinks to mention that a woman arrived in town the other week)
there's an incident on a farm on the outskirts of town that Price has to go to - he makes you promise to be good and you spend the next two days wrestling with whether to take the opportunity to leave or not. you end up staying. Price comes back and he's so happy to see his little wife still home after a few rough days of work. probably the first time he makes you sit on his face to reward you.
your luck finally comes to an end when the same bounty hunter finally comes back (your marriage announcement may have been in the local paper and somehow word got to him about a girl matching the description of the woman he's after) and somehow manages to trap you. the climax of this fic is that he manages to get you on a horse speeding away from town and you're heartbroken/terrified/desperate for John but your situation seems hopeless)
John catches up with the two of you and he, uh....deals with the bounty hunter that took his wife from him. before he "deals" with him, the bounty hunter does basically reveal who you actually are, and there's a moment where you see that John believes him. he looks at you in a strange way for just a second and there's this glint in his eye that says "yeah I either suspected this or this is new information to me but now everything makes sense" and your heart just stops because it's the first time where you actually don't want him to know that you aren't the woman that was supposed to be his wife
then he kills the bounty hunter and takes you home :) and he never ever acknowledges what the other man said. because you're his wife and that's all that matters.
suuupppperrrr tender loving sex that night LMAO probably out in wilderness because you're far outside of town and the two of you are exhausted (plus, John just buried this man's body so you had to diverge from the route home for a bit)
at some point in time, a woman does show up at your doorstep claiming to be John's wife. you slam the door on her face.
ok now i wanna write this again FUCKDJGHSJGVSD
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blasphemecel · 3 months
Text
Michael Kaiser — Language Barrier
PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 0.9k TYPE: Humor, Bad flirting WARNING(S): tw BOTCHED GERMAN (because I was always on that damn phone in german class) NOTE(S): Translations for whatever the hell I was trying to say at the bottom
Unlike what most people might assume, football is not your favorite game.
Well, you did come to Blue Lock to play football, and yeah, you do like it, maybe at times to the point of lunacy. But this turned out to be some grand orchestration with the purpose of showing you a much more fulfilling game to play — taking out your earbuds whenever Kaiser approaches you with his superiority complex drivel. Not like it stops him from talking to you (or, more accurately, talking at you), but you take great satisfaction in not having to listen to him. Especially since he always makes that cute displeased expression before you turn to walk away from him, much like a disgruntled cat.
You kind of wonder what crap he says about you behind your back sometimes, but it’s imperative for your image to hide your curiosity. He is a loser. You’re playing the game, and you’re winning, and he’s losing because you’re getting under his skin. (Just an example of your daily affirmations.)
Today, a new opportunity for entertainment presents itself. When you approach Kaiser before practice to get some shit talk out of the way, you notice that, for some reason, he isn’t wearing his pair either. Not like he needs them since his ass doesn’t have any friends other than Ness, who speaks the same language as him, but still. Does he think he can beat you at your own game, which you made up in your head? Over your dead body.
“Shithead,” you greet with a smile.
“Ich kann dich nicht verstehen.” He points at his ear in confusion.
“I see you had time to put on your clown makeup this morning.”
“Du kannst mich auch nicht verstehen. Was ist das Ziel?”
“Anyway, so,” you say, despite not catching a single word that came out of his mouth, but you want to give off the impression of dismissing him. “What should I talk about? I didn’t think this through.”
He grins back at you, apparently undeterred by the insufficient communication going on. “Du hörst gerne zu, wenn ich für dich Deutsch spreche. Ist das richtig?”
“Why do you look so slimy when you smile? Seriously, your face is disturbing.”
“Gestehst du dir endlich deine Gefühle für mich ein?”
“And you know what else? I was the one who wiped my snot on your jersey a few days ago, not Isagi.”
“Es ist ok, wenn du schüchtern bist. Du kannst es mir später noch einmal sagen. Vergiss Yoichi. Mit mir zu spielen, würde dir viel besser stehen.”
You know you’re the one who brought him up, but Kaiser is so obsessed with Isagi, and you can’t even blame him for the fascination. He’s always talking about devouring people and ruining their dreams and how happy it makes him or whatever while on the field, but the moment you stop playing, he starts acting all friendly. If your frontal lobe wasn’t eroding more and more the longer you stay in this football prison, there’s a slight possibility you might’ve found him weird.
“Aber ich kann zusehen, wie du verärgerst werden, wenn ich deine Schüsse abblocke, also ist es mir so oder egal,” he says, looking smug. “Ich liebe alle Gesichter, die du machst.”
Irritated by the sound of Kaiser’s voice, you take this up as a challenge to say more words than he did. On principle, you can turn any occasion into a competition. “The worst thing about you is that you’re a pretentious theater kid. ‘Ooh, look at me, I’ve got this shitty tattoo ‘cause I’m beautiful like a rose! Get it? And the thorns signify my awful personality, which is repellent to the general population. Get it? It shows I contain multitudes. Do you GET it yet?’”
Kaiser takes one of your hands between his, leaving it sandwiched, and stares at you as if he is trying to spontaneously make himself sparkle. To distract yourself from the urge to punch him, since you don’t want to be put in timeout, you mentally debate if German sounds like goofy gibberish to you only because you cannot understand it. “Deine Leidenschaft lässt mein Herz rasen. Und ich rufe diese Gefühle hervor? Wie schmeichelnd.”
You don’t know why, but you’re getting the feeling he said something sarcastic and annoying just now.
“You think you’re so much better than everyone else, with your Skype-colored eyes-”
Kaiser ignores the way you wretch your palm out of his hold and interrupts you with a mocking raise of his eyebrows. “Skype? Es ist unmöglich, dass du es noch benutzt… Willst du aus Kontaktdaten tauschen?”
You bet he’s talking mad shit about you right now. Actually, he doesn’t seem bothered by you at all, so you need to step it up. It’s dead serious. As serious as cholera.
“Hey, Kaiser.” This is a phrase so bare bones, he doesn’t need any fancy Mikage-brand translator to understand you.
He blinks at you in mild surprise, self-approving demeanor making way for a tamer, perhaps more neutral facial expression, and then he asks, “Ja?” as if it’s the only German word you know and he’s being accommodating. But you’re not going to deny or confirm this assumption.
You beam at him, then avert your eyes somewhere up to the ceiling while running over it in your head again, of course dragging out the suspense. Maybe this is your wishful imagination at play, but you think he’s kind of sweating. Then finally — finally! — you announce, “Sucken deezen Nutschen, Bozo.”
“Shithead,” he calls you. With a glare at that!
It lights up your whole world.
___
Translations:
Ich kann dich nicht verstehen = I can’t understand you
Du kannst mich auch nicht verstehen. Was ist das Ziel? = You can’t understand me either. What’s the point/what’s the objective?
Du hörst gerne zu, wenn ich für dich Deutsch spreche. Ist das richtig? = You like listening to me speak German for you. Is that it?
Gestehst du dir endlich deine Gefühle für mich ein? = Are you finally confessing your feelings/affections for me?
Es ist ok, wenn du schüchtern bist. Du kannst es mir später noch einmal sagen. Vergiss Yoichi. Mit mir zu spielen, würde dir viel besser stehen = It’s ok if you’re shy, you can tell me again later. Forget about Yoichi. Playing with me would suit you much better
Aber ich kann zusehen, wie du verärgerst werden, wenn ich deine Schüsse abblocke, also ist es mir so oder egal = But I get to watch you get mad when I block your shots, so I don’t care either way
Ich liebe alle Gesichter, die du machst = I just love all the faces you make
Deine Leidenschaft lässt mein Herz rasen. Und ich rufe diese Gefühle hervor? Wie schmeichelnd = Your passion is making my heart race. And I’m causing all of this emotion? How flattering
Skype? Es ist unmöglich, dass du es noch benutzt… Willst du aus Kontaktdaten tauschen? = Skype? There’s no way you still use that… Wanna exchange contact information?
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crimsonred-hi · 2 months
Text
Masterlist
Hozier x Reader
Style, or lack there of
Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader.
Summary: Where did Hozier suddenly get all his style from? He comes out of his 4 year hiding for ‘Unreal Unearth’, all the flannel have been replaced with shirts and all his jeans have been replaced with nice trousers. Why? Because he got a girlfriend, who doesn’t let him walk out the house looking like a butch lesbian
Cats or Dogs
Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader.
Summary: reader is a cat person, her boyfriend, Andrew, is very much a dog person. And at this point in their lives, they want another living thing to take care of in their shared home. The age old question of cats or dogs stumps them, because they can’t agree
Freckles
Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader.
Summary: the summers in Ireland are slowly getting hotter, and that makes the garden seem more inviting.
Are you cold?
Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader.
Summary: Your from a warmer climate, and despite friends and family telling you that you wouldn’t cope the cold, you decided to spend Christmas and the time after it with your lover in Ireland… and it’s fuckin cold
Da, it’s Da
Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader.
Summary: in Ireland and the northern parts of England (where I’m from), a child would never call their father ‘daddy’, for the mere thought of ‘Daddy is for gals with issues and gay men with bigger issues’ (which is true). So, I believe Andrew would want to be called ‘Da’ like most other fathers… so yeah, Andrew arguing with his and Reader’s child about what the child should call him.
Everything, Everywhere
Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader.
Summary: his lover is laying there, laying under 6 feet under the grass. Gone to the world. The love of his life: gone. Yet, he stills comes every week, to smile at her, and tell her that one day he’ll join her, but he promised her to live to the fullest… so he will.
What do you mean grey?!
Pairing: dad!Andrew Hozier-Byrne x wife!Reader.
Summary: Andrew with his beautiful hair and beard, he’s very proud of them both: of the length, the colour, the health of it. And one day, one very long day, where he’s spent his whole day being stern dad to his daughter, and at the end he gets in bed with his wife and the mother of his child just for her to notice something in his hair.
Mine : Ours
Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader.
Summary: Andrew meets his son for the first time, and he’s a bit angry about it. Because after 10 years, reader kept his son from him.
Work Song
Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader
Summary: Andrew and his lover have a little cuddling after their time together.
Grip
Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader
Summary: At a dinner party, he’s jealous over your coworker.
Wash Day
Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader
Summary: Wash day is Sunday, so Andrew and his girlfriend get in the shower together (not sexually).
Vinyl
Pairings: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader
Summary: He’s got new vinyls coming out, but his girl needs to approve first. Because her opinion is most important.
Headcannons
Hozier
Age Gap
Controversial Age Gap
Pregnancy
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