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aquarium-ina-bag · 1 year

Text

Where Danger Finds Me, it Follows with Tides - 3

No trace ch3

Words: 1.2k

Relationships: Wednesday x Reader

Warnings: threats, weapons mentioned

Note: Is anyone else's comments thing glitched? talking about how I can't comment on things. Anyways thank you for the likes :)

The typewriter clicking was inconsistent, Wednesday was usually able to pour out her thinking throughout the whole hour or more, but this was an off pattern, she constantly took pauses, ripping up pages she didn’t like, and the flow was all wrong. Enid caught on, obviously worried.

"Are you okay? Your typing is off balance, and it’s ticking me off."

"I’m fine." Frustration filled the goth’s tone.

The blonde scoffed. "Clearly not; you sound like you’re about to chuck a knife into someone."

"I just might."

"Come on Nes, talk to me!"

"Why should I?"

"Oh my gosh, I’ve never seen you this stubborn about something." Enid picked up Thing as well as herself to walk to the grumpy sack in a chair.

"Do you happen to know what Mr. Kovacs assigned today in class?" The raven asked

"The anatomy teacher? I don’t have him remember; wait a minute!" Enid started to get giddy. "You don’t know the assignment because you were having a little staring contest with your rival fencer! Ajax and Kent told me, "You guys couldn’t stop looking at each other!" She started to laugh.

Wednesday going to make those two into a belt and a village meal.

"She’s nothing but a distraction. Of course Fish sauce, and that Greek tragedy wouldn’t be paying attention."

"Plus, you know, Mr. Kovács doesn’t give periods the same work, you’re going to have to ask someone that was in your period. Or," the wolf’s smile bared her fangs. "You can ask your rival in staring contests and fencing."

That was the last thing she wanted to do, but she understood that might be the route she needed to take. "Enid, question. Do you know anything more about this little pesky insect?"

"Uhm, kinda! She’s usually at the school gym, but the furs gym, which is pretty impressive because we have heavier equipment, you remember Eugene’s theory, it’s a possibility it could be true because she has this huge tattoo on her back, the wolves said it was a big scorpion with the Roman numeral X, no idea what that means, but it looks pretty cool." Enid blabbered

Wednesday nodded. "Do you know where they’re from?"

"Actually, last year when I looked them up, nothing popped up, not a social media account, not even family accounts that match up, but what’s funny, that rich female billionaire has the same last name as them, they look nothing alike though, so I doubt they're related. What’s her name again? Something with an I? Anyway, nothing with the place of birth, not a birthday, zero, nada." Enid continued to annotate.

"How formidable. The rich billionaire is named Integra, my father envies her."

"Anyways," Enid added emphasis to the s. "I’m going to hang out with Yoko, Divina, and Bianca. You should come with, get your mind off Y/n for once."

"I’m alright; sadly, I need to find the creature. I desist from holding a zero in that horrid class."

"Well, you better hurry." The colorful girl turned to face the window, the crescent moon almost hovering in the middle of the world. "Almost curfew, If admin catches you you’re done for."

──────

Wednesday roamed around the school, heading for the gym, hoping to find you there, but no luck. The next best thing was to find your dorm room. She found herself at the door of her beloved principal, opening the double doors like she owned the place.

"Why Wednesday, what are you doing here at such an hour?" Weems looked up from her laptop.

"Where’s Y/n L/n’s residence located?" The raven asked.

"I believe in the administration’s hall. Why do you ask?"

"Work purposes, a project for anatomy."

"Oh, the one that Mr. Kovács assigned? That is partner work. I heard you and Y/n dueled in your fencing class; I’m pleased you didn’t take it to heart and are now befriending them."

Wednesday grimaced, "This isn’t befriending; we merely conversed. I don’t think I can have another conversation with anyone in that class again, they just know what we’re doing but just so happened to distract me. I presume it was a part of their plan to become mutuals."

"You said similar things about Ms. Sinclair, look at you now, your eyes softening when she speaks." Weems smiled behind her coffee mug.

Wednesday rolled her eyes "I must be going now, thank you for the minute amount of help." And with that, Wednesday was off to your dorm room.

When she reached your door, there was a small whiteboard hanging on the door with the large words knock written on it. She complied with the request, hitting the door two times.

She heard a somewhat muffled voice from behind the door: "Come in!" It sounds like you

The girl opened the door and was immediately bombarded with new scents, sounds, sights, and feelings. It was almost overwhelming. Her nose was filled with blue lotus, You smelled like that a lot; it was very euphoric. The aroma forcefully calmed her down. The low sound of some artists played on a record she’s never heard of and didn’t want to know the room looked pretty neat and looked overcluttered, but everything had a place that made it look clean—lots of knick-knacks. An abundance of vinyls; special ones were placed on a wall-mounted shelf; they were signed; plants; and tanks for animals, but none of them looked like they had any animals for it just built like the perfect environment; you clearly weren’t sharing a dorm with anyone (lucky you); you had a variety of electronics, from a TV to a handheld device which was the newest model of the brand; lots of jewelry, almost all gold; large diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and others. Who paid for this? This stuff really fits you; oh yeah, that's what she came here for—you.

You were standing near a tank; almost half of it was filled with sand, and the top had a small plant to create a sort of shade. There was a tunnel system in the sand—some sort of bug? You looked around for something in it until you turned to your visitor.

"Oh hey Wednesday, how can I help you on this lovely night?"

It would be lovely if she wasn’t here. "I want to accept your offer." She spoke up

You flashed a smile "Oh really? "I'm surprised you came to me instead of the teacher."

How did you know that, Wednesday was still stuck in thought, and she looked you up and down. You wore a baggy tee just past your hips, and wrapped around said hips were black shorts stopping at your knees. She continued to look down at your legs. You had pretty strong legs, muscles were prominent even though you didn’t flex them at all. She kind of wanted to see what they looked like when flexed. What is she thinking? Your shins are almost covered by high socks. The goth met your eyes again.

"I would have been scolded if he found out, but are you going to join me or not?"

You would join her in anything—death, life—what in the world are you thinking? "You don’t even know what the project is about."

"Then what is it?"

"We have to pick a creature and gather its diet. Then give it to Mr. Kovy." You explained

"Okay, that seems simple enough, but are you going to join me or not?" She repeated

"Of course, madam." You grinned and jokingly bowed

This was going to be a long week.

#wednesday x y/n #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday x reader #jenna ortega x reader #wednsday addams

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voidfishing · 2 years

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what songs do you associate with Lucretia?

oooo The Crow by Dessa was the first that came to mind honestly. not all of the lyrics fit perfectly but “the slide show don’t put all the pictures together/you try to do it right, though” is. ooo Lucretia… the imagery of her chronicling the stolen century And her piecing together lives for Taako Merle & Magnus after voidfishing her journals really fits with that bit. also a friend of mine did show me this song specifically for my Taako playlist BUT pointed out the line “anger is just love, left out, gone to vinegar” as a very Taako & Lucretia line. he loves her, she loves him to the point of changing his entire life to protect him, and that pushes them apart. also I think “but you’re built to balance on two feet/so why you living this last year from your knees?” can be applied to Lucretia both during the year she was running from The Hunger alone and her role in stopping it during the day of story & song

Chromatic by Lighthouse and the Whaler also feels fitting for her… especially in the context of the stolen century. “is it so lonely? to be the one with some sense” definitely fits her insistence on cutting off The Hunger being the only way to stop it from consuming their world, but the song is upbeat and happy and I think that aspect really matches the fact that Lucretia really became her full self during those 100 years. she found her confidence and strength and family. also the line “I feel that we’ve grown static” being applicable both to how the IPRE physically does not change over the course of the stolen century and how it was Lucretia who voidfished their memories…… ouchie

also Crystals by Of Monsters and Men feels very Lucretia to me. I have like no annotations for this one I just. the vibes match Stolen Century Lucretia to me yknow. I feel like “let your colors bleed and blend with mine” just matches the image of the strands of light that put them all back together at the start of each year, as well as the fact that their bonds are so so significant to their journey

#toon talking #ask tag #text #taz #taz balance

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pen-observing · 3 years

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Hi! If you will have any inspiration about this

What do you think would be little things that brothers would bring you as courting you? As like birds or penguins with rocks and sticks?

Thank you 💜

sjdaj this was fun! i did have an image of lucifer bringing feathers as a meme in my mind for a sec

what the brothers bring you while courting you/wanting to impress you:

Lucifer:

He is what many would consider to be a classic idea of a man. Tall, dark, handsome with refined taste. Because of this he tries to be refined in what he brings you as well. Why should you two not share such traits?

Lucifer because of this relies on the extravagant, classic choices. Most of all – jewelry.

Rings, necklaces, bracelets – everything he sees while out on an errand that catches his eye.

He also tries to match some items with you. He has a golden pen, why shouldn’t you have one as well?

However, one thing that gets in his way is that: no matter how strong his impulse to buy or obtain rare jewels is – he cannot always give them to you.

He overthinks it.

‘if I give them two rings two weeks in a row, would that be too much? Would they then spend money to buy an outfit that matches it? Would the gifts lose their meaning if I don’t space them out? If I continue to give them so many gifts, they would feel responsible to return them so they would spend more money on me and we both know that I am the one who has more money so--’

All these thoughts come to him. Sometimes Lucifer even thinks that your pride would be hurt if he gives you jewels so often.

He tries not to go overboard but he knows that there is a whole desk drawer of little boxes just waiting for the right time to go to you.

Mammon:

No matter how much Mammon may chase gold and sparkles – he is no Lucifer and there is no way that he can just rely on jewels.

Sure, on very special occasions he manages to surprise you with them and that does make it more meaningful.

Mammon puts aside everything else and actually gets a job whenever your birthday is close.

So what else could be bring you?

He is well aware of how birds bring branches or rocks – how sometimes they even spend so much time flying high above and continuously dropping walnuts for others on the road until they crack. His approach is similar.

When you have issues or need to open something – he always offers himself.

It is a bit silly but being there for someone counts.

Besides this – every trinket that he sees somehow ends up in your room

Plushies, fun masks, nail polish that matches his, a leaf that fell in his hair while he was sleeping under a tree and dreamt of you.

He also brings postcards, magazines, photos you might enjoy.

Once he brought you a heart shaped stone and bragged about how his keen eye managed to observe it in the clean river!

Something in every corner of your room will be adjacent to him.

“What if I brought you branches?” “What?” “Nothing!”

He just wanted to ask!

Leviathan:

Lucifer is impulsive in buying just one thing, Levi, however, is impulsive all around.

And that impulsivity goes in many directions.

He is able to use and calculate all his Akuzon points to make sure that you get 10 products instead of just 1.

He takes it very, very seriously.

Sometimes he buys you way too many snacks, other times he orders 5 costumes

Often his courting relies on the thought; what if we shared this!

His mind says that the more you have in common the better match you are.

This is why he brings matching keychains or slippers or even computer backgrounds and mousepads.

He still knows that ‘matching’ does not fully count but it really warms his heart when he sees that you are willing to share and indulge in those small things that would not really matter to others.

It gives him a confidence boost and reassures him that you are in fact open to him.

However, something still has to be yours alone.

Yours alone, from his hands and he needs to make sure of that.

Levi does bring you pearls like penguins do.

And he did in fact spend a long time underwater making sure he brings the best ones.

Just... never show him the video that trended of a female penguin cheating on her partner in the human world.

Satan:

Satan, no matter how much he tries to deny it, is in many ways similar to Lucifer.

He might dress the way he does but he tries to be a classic gentleman in this regard.

He does bring jewelry too – however he never brings it without a deeper, more profound reason.

‘so what if this ring is rare? What does it matter to them? Nothing.’

He has to hear you say it is very pretty to give it to you.

The necklace needs to remind him of your eyes or he is not buying it at all.

Because of this – he is very picky so few gifts are of this nature.

What else does he bring?

Satan writes you notes all the time.

Sometimes they are there to remind you of water or meals, other times they are short quotes.

In fact, he brings you annotated books; lines that remind him of you; quotes of feelings he knows thanks to you.

He brings you parts of himself and looks for parts of you in everything.

This is his idea of courting.

And don’t be surprised to get letters (wax made by him) under your door even if you live close by.

Asmodeus:

Unlike the others, Asmo has no problems with giving you whatever his own impulse says to.

Why should he hide these 2 perfumes that he bought thinking of you and wait for 3 weeks to present them to you?

No, do it right then and there because your heart felt the love or do not do it at all!

Because of this, his impulse costs a lot. Only second to Lucifer.

Asmo wants to give you luxurious things but he knows that jewelry alone can get boring rather fast and is limited by time and fashion and practicality etc.

So he gives you luxury in everything.

New lines of fragrance are yours as well as his, new skin care products that few humans can buy just show up at your door.

Does he also give you framed photos of him? Yes

Does he give you best silk? Also yes.

Why should the two of you not enjoy these things? You deserve it after all.

Still, Asmo is very sentimental too.

He gifts you photo albums of things that make him feel so. Memories of trips and walks; of sleepovers and quiet nights as well.

Yes, luxury is there but this small pretty pen is cheap and has hearts on it! He simply has to give it to you!

Beelzebub:

Beelzebub knows the ‘proper’, ‘correct’ or expected ways to court someone.

He knows what gifts others give and why.

But, all of that seems slightly...like vanity or showing off to him.

It just wouldn’t feel right to give you a framed work of art or color stones that glimmer if it does not really awake something.

His gifts are as gentle as him.

Yes, food is the most obvious choice but he really does worry if you are eating well because humans are fragile.

Flowers that he sees in shops or on walks.

While once walking with Luke he saw some and said how pretty they would look on you. Luke taught him to make flower crowns for that reason.

Most of his gifts are handmade.

He wants to help you on his own no matter what.

The most consistent gifts however are those that you said you needed.

Doesn’t matter when you said it or how, maybe it was just a passing thought, but he remembers and he gets them for you.

Belphegor:

it wouldn’t be wrong to say that he manages to mix up all of these ways and refuses to settle down on just one type.

This is because he is similar to Beel.

Beel gives you thinks you said you needed; Belphie gives you those you did not even notice.

He is constantly observing you and being as smart as he is – nothing escapes him.

You don’t have to complain how you grew bored of your boots or how annoying those headphones are.

He just notices it and gives you new ones.

Sometimes he looks at you during a party in Diavolo’s castle and things that a necklace is missing and would actually be useful in the future as well; so, he buys it.

Books for assignments you are not aware you will need next year find their way to your table. Yes, it is a year but he is a published Devildom scholar so trust him with this.

Paintings, matching rings with stars, a keychain of some small alien from a human TV show etc.

He treads the lines of outlandish with luxury and simple.

Seeing you surprised no matter what because you never mentioned these things always brings him joy.

a/n: how tf do you spell jewelry is it this or jewellery or i hate his word pls

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benoitblanc · 3 years

Photo

@murdocks asked for a tutorial of how to gif things using photopea, so here i am! for those of you who don’t know what photopea is, it’s a free online editing software that’s very similar to photoshop. in fact, you can import photoshop psds, brushes, etc. if you so choose, but for the sake of this tutorial, i’ve stuck with the basics. fair warning: this is quite long. i’ve started out with how to use the website, then moved on to a practical application.

onward!

so, welcome to photopea. here’s the link if you missed it above. there are four areas you should know about right off the bat. at the top of the screen is kind of the master menu. you really only need to worry about file, image, layer, select, and filter. file is where you save your gif, image allows you to resize or flip horizontally and vertically, layer is where most of the hard-core editing happens, select does what is says on the tin, and filter allows you to sharpen.

to the left is the editor menu, which i’m going to annotate below.

the top right rectangle is your history, which allows you to undo things by clicking on previous steps. the bottom right rectangle is the workbar, which allows you to select and manipulate different frames and layers. to view a layer, click the little eye on its left. to select a layer, click it. if your layer has a raster mask, which i’m not going to go over in this tutorial, it’ll be the white rectangle on the right of the layer.

now, for daisy. step one is to make your gif however you so choose. i use quicktime player to screen record and then stick the recording through ezgif, which is probably why my gifs are never quite as crisp as the ones who turn video to frames or however else you do it. for the sake of this tutorial, i’ll assume you already know how to make a basic gif.

you then want to open photopea, click “open from computer,” and upload your gif. et voila! there’s your gif.

now onto sharpening. click on your last frame, hold down the shift key, and click on your first frame to select all. then go up to “filter” in the top menu, then scroll down to “sharpen” and select “smart sharpen.” you can then use whatever sharpening settings you’d like, though keep in mind you can’t do anything with sharpening opacity like you can on photoshop. i usually do this twice: 200% at 0.5px, then 10% at 10.0px.

next, you want to resize and crop your gif. to resize, go to image, then click “image size” and plug in one of your desired proportions. this is not crop- if you plug in one dimension, the other will automatically readjust to match.

now to crop: go to the left-hand menu and click the crop icon. it’s under the magic wand but above the eyedropper. now you can crop to your liking, then click the check in the upper right.

nice! you have a gif. let’s first work with basic scene coloring. you can find all your layers under the “layers” menu in the top bar. i usually use levels and brightness/contrast, then bump the master saturation up by 10 and fiddle around with selective color, hue, or color balance until the gif looks to my liking. we’ll assume you know vaguely how to do this.

and now you get something like this:

as you can see, the background is a little grainy, but that’s simply because i use ezgif to actually make my gifs. it has nothing to do with photopea. i honestly don’t mind it, which is why i haven’t switched from ezgif to another method.

but arwen, you may be thinking, what if i want to make the background another color? well, do i have news for you!

i first fiddled with color balance to make the whole gif a tiny bit more red, but that’s pretty much the same method as how i played with the other layers above so i haven’t included that. to change the gif color, you then want to go back to the layer menu, choose “new,” and select “layer.” then change the blending method of the layer to overlay.

now go to the brush icon in the left menu. it’s right above the stamp. once you’ve selected your brush, make it as big as you’d like, then set the hardness to 0.

now choose whatever color you’d like from the color picker. i forgot to screenshot the color picker, but it’s at the very bottom of the left-hand menu. in the new layer photo, it’s the green and white squares at the bottom. you want to click the top one, then pick your color.

go back to your empty layer and paint over however much space you’d like.

and now your gif looks something like this:

cool! we can make normal gifs and use fancy colors! now for the last part of the tutorial: adding text. photopea already has a TON of fonts to choose from, but you can also upload other fonts that you’ve downloaded in the same way you uploaded your initial gif. the program will ask if you want to save the font to your library, and you select yes.

so now you want to go to the text icon on the left-hand menu. it’s the T between the magnifying glass and the pen. click it, and you’ll get a new menu above your gif with options for font, bold/italic, size, color, and alignment. adjust those accordingly.

now you might want to add effects like shadow and outline to your text. do the two-finger click (for mac users) or right click (for pc users) on the text layer in your workbar on the right, then select “blending options.” you’ll have a whole slew of things to choose from. i usually set the stroke (outline) to 1px black...

...and do this to the drop shadow.

now you can play with your text a little bit. if you want it wavy, for example, go to warp in the text menu (right above your gif), then select the style of warp from the dropdown. i chose flag and played with the warp percentage a bit.

i then followed the steps in this text tutorial by @pietro-maximoff to get the text just a little fancier.

now, to save the gif, go to file on the top menu, then select “export as” and choose “gif.”

you can now adjust the speed.

and voila! a gif!

if you have any questions or want tutorials for things like “how to use raster/vector masks” or “how to cheat the no-timeline-feature aspect”, shoot me an ask!!! :)

#arwen.text #resources #tutorials #completeresources #allresources #userbrina #usermouffe #userpavi #usersae #userhella #usersmile #tusernico #uservalentina #usermarcy #dailyresources #gif tutorial

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brattsun · 3 years

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a contradiction in terms, a kuroo x f!reader smau

series masterlist | updates tues, thurs, and sat

summary: at a small liberal arts university, buried in the middle of America, romance blossoms in the most unconventional places after Kuroo Tetsurou, University Class President, and you, a scholarship student at the top of your class butt heads during a routine student council meeting.

a/n: lots of college pretentious debate, enemies to lovers, there will be smut and my blog is 18+ so minors DNI, I’m not anticipating needing a taglist but if anyone wants to be on it they can send me an ask. This is my first social media AU so I’m expecting it to be a mashup of texts and some written sections. sadlg;hakl im pretty nervous but i think the more i do this hopefully i’ll get better at it as;dghlask so bear with me.

CH 2 - let it go, bro, pt 3

prev/next

Kuroo makes his way up the stairs, slipping out of his wool coat and scarf, it gets warmer as he gets higher, and his legs feel like jelly from running Lev’s drills. The third floor of the science building is stuck squarely in the 80’s, dark wood, jewel tones, deep green walls and a grey rug floor. The tables in each of the classrooms he passes are huge and oak, with matching chairs behind them. It’s quiet, but as he makes his way down the hallway, catching your voice floating through the open door, and taking a moment to eavesdrop.

“Ah, actually,” you say, and he hears you take a couple steps, “It looks like this might be the trans hudson orogeny, just because of the shape of the island arc in that one, when compared to this map here?”

“Oh!” He hears another girl scramble for some paper, “Oh oh, oh my god, I think you’re right.” He hears the creek of a chair as she collapses in exhaustion. “You fucking did it.” He swallows, disliking how nervous he is, reaching up and knocking on the door.

“Come in,” you say softly, “We don’t have the room reserved.” You’re hovering over a table covered in a colorful confusing map. “Oh! Ah,” he’s seized with guilt at the way you automatically hop on the defensive, the way your shoulders stiffen, your fingers lacing and unlacing in a mannerism he now recognizes as a nervous tic.

“Can I uh,” remembering that’s what he said last time, “Can I borrow you for a second?” You swallow, and the other girl looks intensely uncomfortable. “I uh, I got your annotations, and I want to talk to you about them.” You nod slowly and roll your neck, it cracks loudly. You follow him out into the hallway. “So,” he says, “You might have hurt my feelings, and I lashed out, which is an explanation and not an excuse.”

“Oh,” you cross your arms across your chest.

“I care, a lot, very, very deeply, for the students at this school. I care about my friends, and my work, and I know I’m not very emotionally expressive, but I can be ah, emotional.” You raise an eyebrow. “What?”

“I’m valuing the merits of making a joke about you telling me to calm down,” you say dryly and he grins.

“I get you now, that was you making the joke, correct?” he says, and you nod. “I thought maybe, ah we could talk, about the paper? Civilly, I promise. No quoting founding fathers.”

“Oh ah,” You move a little away from him in the hallway, “Honestly I’m not super interested in that.” He blinks at you. “You were right, political science isn’t my major, and um, honestly my views on this stuff are rooted in personal issues, I can’t promise it won’t get ah, heated. Plus I’ve really got to work on this lab,” you jerk your head back to the door. Kuroo’s mind races, he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he made this right.

“Can I have your number, then, and we can text?” He watches you consider, disliking the way his heart is sprinting in his chest. Your eyes dart back to the classroom before answering.

“Yeah, ah, sure.”

“I’d like to make this more accessible, I mean, student council, for scholarship students.”

You nod quickly, and your eyes dart back to the lab. “But ah, tomorrow, okay, not, not tonight, I’ll let you finish up.”

“I’m um,” you say quickly, “I’m not promising to come out of this conversation agreeing with you on anything, just um, just so you’re aware.” He grins, amber eyes glinting.

“Excellent.”

taglist: @ks-kitten @boosyboo9206 @rintarovibes @simpinforseventeen @whorefornoodles @antaraxy @roseestuosity @aggrocat121 @erinoikawa @tirzamisu @chims-kookies

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo #kuroo smau #kuroo smut #hq smau #hq smut #hq x reader #hq x reader smau #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader smau #hq #haikyuu!!#yachi #daisho #daisho suguru

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masterswrd · 3 years

Text

Hannibal Fashion Meta Pt. 4

Now with sexy annotations.

In this installment we’re back to our favorite party vampire, my sweet Hannibal, who is a whole ass meal and always ready to please a crowd. So we’re going to be talking about his Event Looks.

Ya know, these are becoming less like metas and more like me sitting with you on your couch and pausing and pointing at the screen while I dump all this on you. But what matters most is my own happiness so here we are.

Let’s start in order with one of my favorite episodes, 1x07 Sorbet. Where we see Hannibal is a gorgeous double breasted midnight blue Brunello Cucinelli tux. It’s not bespoke, but honey if this is cashmere than this is probably $9000. If it’s wool than it’s closer to $5000 (which is what I estimate he pays for a lot of his bespoke suits).

Hannibal really isn’t the type of person to wear black, I’m pretty sure we never see him in a solid black suit. Black suits are very very formal and unless you’re at a black tie event or a funeral, a black suit is usually overkill. We know he likes to stand out. Blue is a very socially acceptable way to have some flair at a black tie event. It’s very main character of him. He’s also wearing french square cuffs on the shirt (the reason they look almost tear drop shaped around his wrists) which is why he’s wearing cuff links (you need french cuffs for cufflinks).

Hannibal doesn’t seem to wear cuff links very often. Only with tuxedos. On this evening, he pairs this with a $200 a blue silk Burberry bow tie.

Hugh Dancy used to model for Burberry and I lost an hour of work on this due to that little morsel of information.

The next even we see Hannibal at is his own dinner party later that episode. This shit is lux, baby.

This blazer is a dark dark green velvet Canali dinner jacket that I’m estimating to be around two to three thousand dollars. And hey listen. I tried so hard to edit these pics so you could see the green, but it’s the type of material in color where you’d really only see it in person. Canali is a luxury Italian brand that has a shop in Washington DC,which is probably the one Hannibal would go to in canon. There’s also a shop in Milano, Italy so Hannibal could’ve been a fan of this brand for a long time. Under the jacket we have a $600 Gucci button up. A paisley tie, not surprising with it being a staple to Hannibal’s taste, and a three-peak folded pocket square to finish off the look. King of pocket square folds. I love you.

With only one party happening in season two, Futamono is next. Now, I personally love this look but anytime people step up their formal wear with color, I go nuts.

This is a maroon velvet dinner jacket with silk lining and trim. The make is Etro, a very high end Italian fashion house that specializes in bold prints. It’s a gorgeous $1500 jacket, but I want to talk about the cravat. Cravats felt out of a fashion a long time ago (they were originally a military thing way back before aristocracy got a hold of it) and most people could NOT pull them off today. BUT that is only because people don’t modernize the look. People wear them too high on the neck and makes your whole outfit look outdated. But keeping it low to the open collar or using it to frame an open collar makes it look a million times better. This is just another example of Hannibal being a person who wears what looks good on him and not wearing things that follow certain rules. He can pull anything off it he puts his mind to it. If we wore crocs to the opera, everyone would be trying to do it the next day. He’s a trend setter and an icon.

Jumping to season 3, we have another black tie event. Everyone in the background wearing black and our man comes through with a gorgeous burgundy two-peice tuxedo. This is a unique bespoke peice by toronto based Italian master tailor, Nino Cioppa. Nino is the primary tailor for season 3 and he did a fabulous job, the talent JUMPED out. Molto bello.

The silk on the lapels are patterned and the same fabric is used to do an accent strip on the sides of the legs. Silk lapels are one trusty way you can tell between a suit and a tuxedo. Lovely lovely lovely. Not a plain tie either. It’s maroon silk with an embroidered square pattern. He’s also wearing french cuffs with mother of pearl Burberry cufflinks.

Another amazing suit in Antipasto is this baby, a beautiful chalkstripe emerald green three-piece suit. By FAR, one of my favorite outfits that he wears. Like the tux above, this is another bespoke original from Mr. Nino Cioppa.

The silk blue bowtie brings yet another pop of color. He does color matching and pattern matching very often and does it well. There’s a general rule of two that people follow where they will only wear two patterns at most having one be understated (the chalkstripe and stripes on the shirt in this case) and one being more attention drawing (the bowtie). Hannibal ignores this rule a lot and still looks amazing but this is a good example of the rule in action.

The biggest thing I want people to get out of these is that regular fancy people don’t dress like this. Hannibal Lecter is another plane of fashion. He’s avant-garde and ahead of his time. He is always wearing something fresh and showstopping. This person had to be THE TALK of the baltimore upper class. “What’s Dr. Lecter wearing?” “Who is your tailor?” “Oh my goodness, he’s stunning.” Nobody else is doing it like him and doing it so well. He dresses for the Met Gala everytime he pulls up to ANY function. Why should he be concerned out rules? Why should he be self-conscious or worried what other people think? Take his self confidence and apply it to your style. Wear that peice of clothing you bought but shoved back in your closet because you can’t bring yourself to wear it out. Hannibal will never hold back when he’s serving looks and neither should you.

In conclusion:

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#w.txt #matt writes #hannibal fashion #hannibal #hannibal lecter #my correct hannibal posts #can you tell i drank green juice and not liquor this time around?#this is a reminder that if you ever want a fashion consult on ur fics i will do it!!!

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oasis-for3v3r · 3 years

Text

Cloud 9 <3

Prompt-reader is a famous singer and performs her first live performance with David Bowie, doing a duet of Under Pressure on Live Aid

David Bowie x Reader Platonic Pairing @laneofpennies @a-none-bee @angelofhell323

Warnings: none unless you count descriptions of nervousness. And a lengthy fic

Okay, let’s do it.

Was the first thing you said to yourself. At eight am. On a Saturday. In the middle of July. You usually be sleeping until 2pm on weekends since you were usually so busy on the weekdays. Being Englands new up- and- coming musician is all.

“Ow!” you said as your foot slipped on something and stubbed your toe on the edge of the dresser. You bit back a mirad of curses as you picked up the foul weapon.

Oh.

Sky Heavens- Head in the Clouds. Your first album. Of course. You were lucky enough to get one from the store. Nearly all of the record shops were sold out. You should be happy, I mean sales were doing great, and as for the royalties-

Oh my gosh how has it ben 25 minutes already?!.

It was a very important day for you.. you were preforming for your first crowd ever. So of course you were excited. but more nervous because, it was your first time. And you had terrible stage fright. And you were doing a duet with David Bowie. Oh you almost forgot.

Your first performance was gonna be Live Aid.

As you tucked in your fancy bell-sleeved bloused you asked yourself a string of questions. For example:

How in the hell did you get into live aid?

What song were you gonna sing with David, er Mr.Bowie?

Were there gonna be high notes? Could you even hit them?

Am i dressing too casual?

Oh my gosh, were going after Queen.

Your final though was punctuated with a hailing of a cab. You felt dizzy after you entered the car so you focused on the horizon, which made your eyes get heavier and heavier until...

“Ma’am this is a cab not a daycare” the driver grunted.

Your head snapped up, wiping the drool off off your chin. You have got to stop making this a habit. You scolded to yourself.

Every time your legs hit the ground of Wembely Stadium, you could feel the muscles in your leg turn into jelly. Your heartbeat is playing the percussion. And your pretty sure that your haven’t taken a breath since coming out of the cab.

You finally taken a breather when you hear commotion coming from the nearest hallway. You saw so many stars you could’ve swore you were in space. You saw Elton John, Freddie Mercury, Roger Taylor, Brian May, (you couldn’t find John Deacon) Adam Ant was sitting on a couch reading a magazine. Next to him was Elvis Costello sticking straws down his hair, you were about to laugh when-

“Boo!”

“Jesus!”

“No this is David.” joked a lanky man with blond hair, and a pastel blue suit, matching your all white outfit (with a pale blue headband) making you too look like the color of the sky.

“Mr.Bow- David, hi!” you exclaimed, trying to sound as cheery as possible.

He hesitated for a moment looking in your eyes as if searching for something only for a moment. “Come into my trailer, i need to talk to you.” he says softly.

You followed him into what looked like a portal to the personification of serenity. There were books piled on top of a small table. A kettle burning on low. With not surprisingly, a pile of teacups littered on top of the counter. You also noticed (on nosier inspection) small annotations scribbled in the corners.

“Y/N!!”

“YES” you exclaimed, jumping slightly. You have got to start paying more attention to your surroundings.

“Tell me whats on your mind, and be honest” his voice was filled with concern, but somehow still comforting.

You took a breath- seventh one today. And started:

“ I feel like everyone will be disappointed, when they see me. All I ever wanted to do was make music that someone will relate to and find comfort in. And now that I have that, which I am very grateful for, I have to handle the price of fame as well. People put celebrities on pedestals and if they make one mistake in the public eye the pedestal crumbles. And don’t even get me started on the media. And today one of the biggest days in history, and if I do bad, then i will not only disappoint myself but the families in Africa who are relying on me to succeed. And-”

“Y/N” David said sternly “Calm down, you will be fine.” He took a breather and said.” You remind me of myself when I was younger, a shy little Capricorn boy, I just wanted to make music, and the fame tagged along. Its what happens eventually. I just used theatrics to cover up the stage fright.” “Now I just focus on the crowd as if they were one person and give them ll the light I have.”

“As for you when singing Under Pressure with me- while singing Freddie’s part- I want you to take all of the audience’s energy, make it into light and give it towards the sky.” “Give everybody hope.”

Just then you heard.a knock at the trailer. it was time for you to get ready.

You watched as Queen rocked the show. This was gonna be hard for you to follow up. You felt like this performance was gonna be talked about for decades. You felt pity for the future generations that wont get to see this.

You watched with butterflies in your stomach, as you saw David perform TVC 15 which bleed into Rebel Rebel. You smiled with fondness, as the corners of your mouth twitched,(which happened often when you’re nervous). When you were turned around.

Moustace, Freddie Mercury.

“Hello, Darling. You’re going up next with Under Pressure, right?”

“Y-Yes ” you were shaking

“ Well don’t fuck it up darling. And make everyone proud.” He said with a smile (that was also in his eyes)

You nodded, and he turned you back around. Just in time for you to be handed a microphone and introduced by David.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome to the stage-for the first time ever- Sky Heavens!!!”

You heard more applause than you expected. But then again it was your very first time ;)

You heard the beginning of the song, and you knew you had no time to be nervous as you started:

Mmm num ba de Dum bum ba be Doo buh dum ba beh beh

Then together-

Pressure pushing down on me Pressing down on you, no man ask for Under pressure that burns a building down Splits a family in two Puts people on streets

Um ba ba be Um ba ba be De day da Ee day da- that's okay

So far you have just been looking at the horizon, seeing the sun begin its descent, little by little.

It's the terror of knowing what this world is about Watching some good friends screaming, "Let me out!" Pray tomorrow gets me higher Pressure on people, people on streets

This is for peace and hope in Africa.

Chipping around, kick my brains around the floor These are the days it never rains but it pours Ee do ba be Ee da ba ba ba Um bo bo People on streets Ee da de da de People on streets

This is for anyone who has felt stress for being themselves

It's the terror of knowing what this world is about Watching some good friends screaming, 'Let me out' Pray tomorrow gets me higher, high Pressure on people, people on streets

The sun was setting now, making the crowd look like angels and your outfit dipped in the sun. David was looking at you with the biggest grin on his face as if seeing his child gain confidence. The high note was coming, and you were ready.

Take all the Audiences Energy

Turned away from it all like a blind man

Make it into light

Sat on a fence but it don't work

Give it towards the sky

Keep coming up with love but it's so slashed and torn

Give everybody hope

Why, why, whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!

That was the highest note you had ever hit. The energy that the crowd was giving you was electric. You felt unstoppable.

Insanity laughs under pressure we're breaking

David was practically yelling into the mic, as he felt unstoppable with you too.

Can't we give ourselves one more chance? Why can't we give love that one more chance? Why can't we give love, give love, give love, give love Give love, give love, give love, give love, give love?

Because love's such an old-fashioned word And love dares you to care for The people on the (People on streets) edge of the night And love (People on streets) dares you to change our way of Caring about ourselves This is our last dance This is our last dance This is ourselves under pressure Under pressure Under pressure Pressure

On the final word you hugged David, he shouted in your ear so you hear him over the roaring crowd. “YOU DID IT LOVE!!! IM SO PROUD OF YOU111″

You look over his shoulder to see Freddie Mercury.

Clapping.

For You.

You felt as if there was the sun poured inside of you. As if you were weightless. You found your new home; on Cloud 9.

#david bowie #freddie mercury #liveaid #live aid #80s music #icon #first look #fanfic #writerscommunity #proof #oc #david bowie x reader #freddie mercury x reader #queen #love #under pressure #vanilla ice

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mistressaccost · 3 years

Text

I think it looks better on me (oneshot)

Summary: Beth and Benny grab sodas for a change of scenery while studying for the tournament in Paris. A flirty little fic that takes place some days before the iconic “Do you still like my hair?” Just to build up the tension some more..

Word count: 1783

A/N: This is basically an extension of some lines I included as a flashback in my other piece, Beth’s Move. An update for that fic is coming soon!! I just had to write this first to get it out of my head. Also, thank you to @novella12nite for the inspo on kid and ma’am! I really appreciate it!!

and my ao3 is wisechase if you’d rather read over there!

“How did your editor read these hieroglyphics? You got a ghostwriter, Watts?” Beth said through a laugh as she lifted the paper up to her eyes and squinted.

They were squeezed into a small booth at some bar downtown. A drink in front of each of them.

Cokes. Of course.

No alcohol. That was the price of admission for staying on Benny’s shitty air mattress, afterall. It wasn’t a great place to stay but it was Beth’s only place to stay; so she conceded to his boring, sober rules.

But today they were out of the apartment for the first time in days. Beth had remarked earlier that she hadn’t seen the sun in a week, which wasn’t quite accurate though it had been a while. So Benny offered a walk to the bar for a change of scenery. Sure, they were confined to a tiny booth but at least this place was above ground.

The table between them was covered with pages and pages of handwritten notes and game records. Beth could have a break from the chess cave but not the chess.

“Here. Let me see it.” Instead of grabbing the paper from her Benny slid into her side of the booth to study the paper in her hands. Beth tried to pretend she didn’t realize their thighs were touching.

She could feel his breath on her neck. It was making her dizzy. She had to start talking to remember to breathe. “No, on second thought the writing in that book is far too pretentious to be anyone but you.”

He nudged her shoulder with his own, not looking up from the paper. “You still read it, though.”

A devilish smile spread across her lips. “Oh yes. I found it to be a comprehensive stepping stone piece for those looking to go from beginner to amature. Now Luchenko’s book...” She trailed off, waiting for Benny to retaliate her teasing.

He looked at her then. He was smiling but his voice had a touch of a far off tone. “Once you’ve beat four Russians, you won’t even want to play me anymore.”

What was he playing at? She couldn’t tell. So she rolled her eyes. “I have to get through just one Russian first.”

“You will. Then you’ll say ‘Just look at that boring American amature, Benny Watts.’ You’ll get tired of me.”

Now she laughed. Even if there was some truth behind this melodramatic performance, she could tell he was teasing her. “How could I get tired of you when you’re constantly finding new ways to be so utterly annoying? I see you've chosen self pity this time, that’s a new one! Thought that would be below you but see! You’ve surprised me! Well done.”

“Soon I’m never going to beat you again, kid.”

“Kid? Really? You’re such an ass Watts.” Beth brought her eyes back down to the game report. “I’m not a child.”

“No. You’re not.”

Why did he have to look at me like that? She could see it from her peripheral vision. She tried to concentrate but her brain felt fuzzy.

“Which is ideal really because getting my ass whooped repeatedly by a kid would just be humiliating.”

Beth shot him a glare and made a show of pretending to read the report.

“Oh no. Have I offended you, ma’am?” She shoved his shoulder then, a laugh on her lips. “Losing to the prodigies suck. Whereas losing to Beth’s Harman is beginning to feel like a rite of passage. Now I’m beginning to feel like all the other sorry chumps you make cry. It’s a privilege.”

“You know one time at a competition I just introduced myself and all the guy said was ‘shit’ not even a hello!”

“See. I feel his pain.” He remarked, pointing a ringed finger at her.

“But Benny, honestly, it doesn’t matter who wins—”

“Who are you and what have you done with Beth Harmon?”

“Ha ha. Very funny. But I just meant between us. It doesn’t matter if I always win because you always make me think, regardless. You never stop trying. Chasing. We have the same obsession. We aren’t people who get tired.”

“Was that a compliment? Did Miss US Champion just pay me a kind word?” The sarcasm bleeding out of every crevice in his speech was intolerable. But he looked slightly flustered behind it.

“Don’t act like you weren’t begging for one. I mean your ego hasn’t been inflated in-” Beth feigned looking at her watch, “Fifteen whole minutes since the hostess flirted with you when we sat down.”

Benny looked at her mock shocked expression through narrowed eyes. “Hmm,” was all he said. But what he was really thinking was She noticed that? and Is she flirting with me right now?

He was going to say that he’d rather lose to her than win against anyone else. Before she mentioned the flirting. That felt too heavy now. Too open. He was starting to feel twitchy. So Benny just said, “Then set your watch for another fifteen, Harmon. I’ll need some more flattery by then. Now, which hieroglyphics am I supposed to be translating for you?”

Benny went through the paper with her. A game record of one of her old matches that he’d written out and annotated. She’d won but her endgame had been “messy as hell” in his opinion, “just all over the damn place.” (But I still won, was her opinion)

“You got lucky with that endgame.” He said, pushing the paper down and pointing at it. “You had no plan.”

“My mother told me the move’s I made the fastest always got the biggest applause. It’s what I’m good at.”

“That might have worked over here, but no one’s going to be applauding in Moscow when you don’t even make it to an endgame and the KGB are packing your bags by opening day. You have to start forming your endgame earlier, Beth. Much earlier. And your middlegame before you’ve even stepped up to the board. I think you just like winning too much. You can’t get your mind off the prize. Stay present.”

“I like winning too much? Please. Besides, how much is too much? A single, fleeting moment of joy in my miserable life? It makes me happy.”

“It makes you happy? It makes you money. And money doesn’t make you a Grandmaster, kid.” She gave him an infuriated look.

“Sorry. Money doesn’t make you a Grandmaster, Ma’am.” He made a show of that last word, drawing it out and tipping his hat.

“At least I know how to spend my money.” She had a haughty look in her eyes then. “I don’t use it to dress like a fuking pirate.”

He was left blinking at her. How were her quips so calculated and fast? Just like her chess. “Ouch. Calm down there, matey.”

“Yes, I think a little parrot perched on your shoulder would complete the look nicely. Or perhaps a peg leg!” She said, far too pleased with this image she was painting.

“I think I need to call the waitress over to wipe up my dignity.” He put hand up to call the waitress over but Beth quickly reached over him to swat it down.

“Stop, Benny. Don’t annoy her too.” She said laughing softly.

“My apartment, my handwriting, my clothes. Is there anything about me that doesn’t annoy you?” He stared at her with a challenging expression.

Beth narrowed her eyes at him then, daring him to break eye contact. When he didn’t (of course he didn’t) she looked away and tried to fight the color flooding her cheeks. Must her own body betray her like this? It was almost as infuriating as losing to him. Which she was beginning to forget the feeling of.

She looked down at her cole and started playing with the straw. “It hasn’t been fifteen minutes yet. Sorry.” Don’t look at his hair. DON’T look at his hair.

But she looked up. Shit. It was a fraction of a second but he didn’t miss it. I’m such an idiot, she thought.

“Ah yes. I remember now.” He had a shit-eating grin on.

She wasn’t going to take this humiliation laying down. Beth Harmon was known for her attacks. This was no exception. “Only because it somehow manages to cover your excruciatingly large head.”

Benny raised his eyebrows, a stupid smile on his face. He was enjoying this.

But he didn’t say anything so she continued. “I’m surprised any of us can fit in the same room with it.” Why do I have to talk so much when I’m nervous?

He took his hat off then, held it over his heart, and tried to put on a pair kicked puppy dog eyes. “Damn, Beth. That one hurt.”

Beth simply rolled her eyes and went back to her straw.

“Let’s see if it’ll fit on your modest head then.” He put the hat on her before she had time to respond. When she let out a huff of annoyance he just continued to adjust it. Using both hands he tipped the hat back so more of her red hair could show.

She pulled away and adjusted it to her liking. “Hm. I think it looks better on me.”

“I think you just like seeing my hair.”

Beth ignored the comment and picked up a spoon from under the hoard of papers. She held it out in front of her like a mirror to see her reflection.

”You can't even see yourself in that, Harmon.” He said through a chuckle.

“What? Do you disagree?” She struck a pose then, giggling. Expecting him to hit her with another well executed come back.

A beat of silence.

He was looking at her. Studying her.

Another beat.

Still staring.

Finally.

“No. I agree.”

Her breath hitched slightly. She wasn’t expecting that.

“You look good. Your hair is longer than mine. It sticks out a bit.” He reached toward her and took a red strand between his fingers. “It’s cute.”

She really wasn’t expecting that.

But as quickly as it happened, he pulled away.

And she remembered to breathe again. She hadn’t even realized she was holding her breath.

He started shuffling the papers on the table then, looking for something. When he found it he looked back up at her. “It suits you.”

So. He liked her hair too. She could work with that.

“Okay, now listen to this middlegame. I think you’ll like it.” And he began reading. But Beth wasn't listening.

Maybe he didn’t set up the no sex rule for me. Maybe he set it up for himself.

She kept the hat on until they got home.

#benny watts #benny x beth #beth harmon #beth x benny #queens gambit #the queens gambit #the queen’s gambit

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remvsjohn · 3 years

Text

@redemptioninterlude [[five times touched]]

send a 🖐️ emoji ( or just ‘ 5 ′ ) for five times our muses touched .

in sanctuary

the smell of books etched into his hair, his clothes, the same way dark ink stained his finger tips from accidental brushing against still damp parchment, a few ruined pages tossed aside only to be redone. they were spared the harsh glares from madame pince as they’d become a quiet fixture, sweet and unobtrusive and as expected as the desks and chairs; near finals any and everyone new just to pop into the library if you needed remus or marlene, unless of course they found sanctuary in the ravenclaw common room when the gryffindors were in need of more attention than the pair was willing to give. their favorite table boasted a small etching, a few initials just to immortalize the many hours spent huddled around it.

the harsh ege of the bookshelf dug into remus’ back, barely managing to keep him awake. it reminded him that his bones were bones, hard but brittle, human or not. the night prior the moon had been full, and though he was holed up in his bed all day, the exhaustion was still settled deep into his bones. luckily, marlene didn’t complain when he moved himself to the floor sat next to a pile of books he still needed to annotate. the quiet swish of her clothes brought a small smile to his lips, knowing she’d just sat down next to him in camaraderie.

his head began to dip, sight blurring. he had already made himself as small as possible - curling lanky limbs into himself. his sweater - two sizes too large, a relic from a weekend at the potter’s that left the shirt he’d been wearing in ashes - blanketed him in softness and warmth, the fabric pooling in his palms. gravity and desperate sleepiness soon pulled him toward the floor. softly, not trying to disturb her progress his head of loose, shaggy curls found refuge on her lap as he cuddled his potions book into his chest. he couldn’t tell if it was his near dream state or reality when he felt the slightest of brushes against his hair, or the light pressure of a hand coming to rest against his shoulder.

in celebration

the ravenclaw and hufflepuff flags hung ‘round the pitch. yellow gleamed sunlight and cheer, accenting opposing bronze. remus’ shoulders proudly bore his father’s vintage practice jersey, and he wasn’t the only gryffindor displaying the ravenclaw colors in the stands. he could see several friends in the badger seats, more than a few in extravagant costumes to show support.

the points were neck and neck, each team’s keepers and chasers were fighting hard to maintain an edge. the assumption that gryffindor and slytherin were the most competitive in the school was simply biased propaganda - from his seat, remus’ eye glinted with mischievous anticipation. the chasers were taunting one another, and he watched, smirking, the almost undetectable signaling of the ravenclaw chasers to the beaters. nerves couldn’t help but bubble up knowing that a blow from a bludger could prove to be fatal, but he did so enjoy a well fought match.

things were getting i n t e r e s t i n g.

he only realized the pressure of fingernails digging into his palms when his mesmer was broken upon the sharp turn of the ravenclaw chaser. the snitch had been seen! remus was swept up in the small sea of students surrounding him who immediately fled the bleachers to head down to the pitch. the twenty point lead brought wild cheers from the ravenclaw stands - once the snitch was in hand, the match would be over with a blue and bronze win.

he was still on the stairs when the screaming started, signaling it had, in fact, been caught. once his feet touched grass eyes quickly sought the score and -

he and the rest of the ravenclaw supporters rushed out onto the field where the players began landing. he found marlene, currently celebrating alongside her housemates, and remus’ arms wrapped around her waist from behind, lifting and spinning her around in a celebratory hug before offering high fives to the rest of the team.

in comfort

winter break, seventh year. the tinsel on the evergreen boughs and warm light of the fire only exacerbated the lonely ache resonating through his veins. most of the students had already fled the grounds in favor of their family homes, and remus wasn’t meant to be far behind them. he only had to stay behind until after the full moon since his father’s house could no longer contain the beast he became during transformation. his footsteps carried him throughout the castle, up and down hallways, across stretching staircases, in some kind of hope to get mindlessly lost - perhaps as lost as he felt, letter clutched in his left hand. it was fruitless, though. remus had memorized nearly every centimeter of the school and no turn could keep his mind busy, nor keep his tears from falling quietly to the stone.

he wasn’t expecting to come across marlene, though. not like this. she saw the grief etched in his features immediately, and of course she asked what he was doing, where he was going. it was sweet to know she didn’t immediately pry, though perhaps it was alarming to actually see the sadness in full form, rather than veiled behind his eyes or tucked behind a smile.

“ the owlery. i’ve got to send james a note - i was meant to spend christmas with him - godric i haven’t even got paper though. “ what had he been intending, to send his father’s letter along? he’d only decided vaguely to let james know but was for once totally and completely unprepared for the task. it needed to be a letter, though. he didn’t know if he could say it. “ my mum’s just - she -” his body threatened to collapse in on itself, but marlene read the words unspoken and rushed in to hold him close. he sank down into her touch - his eyes closed, fingertips let the letter fall to the stone. his cheek came to rest against her hair, her arms up over his shoulders. her warmth spread through his jumper, a slow rising tide against the aching emptiness that filled him. his mum was gone. just like that. gone with the flick of a wand, with the stroke of a pen.

in diffidence

" you know that broom cupboard everyone claims people go to snog? “ remus brought their strides to a slow amble. the sixth floor was mostly deserted - his preference, as a prefect. how he’d been given the position he’d never know. he’d never given a detention in his life and didn’t intend to start. instead he preferred to gently scold students for being caught with the assurance that if it became habit the conversation would be approached differently. there were a few instances where remus had to intervene more directly - students tended to endanger themselves and others a bit more frequently than their parents knew - and he’d rushed a student to hospital more than once. maybe that was the reason, afterall. being a member of the more mischievous group of students, he instinctively knew where to look when students were in trouble. remus was happy to boast that since his appointment they’d not had a first year spend the night lost in the halls.

when marlene began to prod, teasingly, as to why he was bringing up the cupboard, a rosy warmth blushed over his features. it wasn’t often he felt embarrassed, but when he was it radiated through his body. he couldn’t quite rid himself of the small smile though he found himself raising a hand to the back of his head, gaze turned down as they walked. he would’ve walked straight into the wall and hid his face there for the next 30 minutes if she’d let him.

“ no, listen - it’s right ‘round the corner, yeah? they say ‘oh, the sixth floor cupboard,’ and all that, yeah? “

marlene’s reaction made him turn around immediately and start walking right in the other direction, only stopped by the soft tug against the hem of his long sleeve, righting his course back on track. the smile simply wouldn’t leave his face and he hung his head low, trying to hide it, stuffing his hands into his pockets. of course it sounded like he was making a move on her. merlin knew it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility! but of course that wasn’t what he had in mind at the time. the truth? remus had a theory, and who better to test the theory with than his sharp-witted friend? he did his best to focus his intentions and as they rounded the corner, there it was. a door that looked just like any other closet. they approached, and remus leaned his back against the door. his hand reached out, shyly, gently taking hold of marlene’s.

“ what i’m saying is, i don’t think this room is what we think it is. “ his eyes shone the color of stone in the candlelight, peeking out through hair that had gotten just a bit too long in his face. the blush on his cheeks faded in favor of mischievous excitement. though, to be honest, the thought that she might truly think he’d brought her here for a snog and she was playing along, approaching him just then, wasn’t a thought he’d find himself readily able to get rid of. perhaps part of him really did hope it was just a closet.

remus’ eyes fell shut and he focused, hard. a room. a room to hide in. a room for rest. his free hand found the door knob, and with a quick glance around the hall he opened it behind him. he stole the first look in, and the excitement that bubbled up extended through his fingers while he squeezed her hand and opened the door wider.

“ i don’t know what this is, but it’s not a broom cupboard! “

in memoriam

there was a dampness to the air, sticking his clothes against his frame, frosting the ends of his hair in cold droplets. his feet moved mechanically, autopilot directing him to the door. faint knocks resounded in his familiar pattern - one. one, two. one - but this time when he entered the rented room he wasn’t filled with the relief that usually flooded over him, seeing her silhouette. he didn’t speak, couldn’t speak, as his body found hers on the divan and he sat down beside her. usually these calls were a welcoming hello and respite from all the war was taking from the pair of them. this time, goodbye hung in the air, sparking against each crackle of the fire.

his hand entwined with hers, turning it slightly before opening marlene’s palm upwards. remus couldn’t bare to look into her eyes, so instead his found the cracks in the floor, the soft folds of the fabric of her sleeve.

“ a wedding present...” he muttered, doing all he could to keep bitterness from rising into his words. no, it needed to stay down in his stomach, burning holes in all that was once a righteous feeling of right and wrong. gently, he dropped the gift into her palm. the small opal locket shone against the dim light - moonstone opal, though very few would notice the specificity. “ i’m going north. “ north. fenrir’s pack. at dumbledore’s behest, of course, but the way sirius looked him in the eyes the morning prior remus couldn’t help but wonder just how farr dumbledore would let him fall. the people he loved most? their trust in him was waning, though he’d sworn to the headmaster he’d keep this secret from them. too risky, he thought. the knowledge alone could get someone killed, himself included, and he used to doubt his friends would allow him on this journey alone if they did know. as the weeks and months passed, though... he was less and less sure he’d ever have anything to come back to.

“i won’t be back before your wedding, so i just...” there it was. cutting the short amount of time between then and the nuptials short meant this was goodbye for good. no, once marlene was married, they’d likely not see each other again. not until, or unless, they may be looking down their wands at one another.

his fingers closed around her hand, sealing the necklace into her palm, holding on for just one more moment. then he stood, no longer able to bear the buzzing ache spreading through him. the emptiness that devoured.

“ if it turns black, have a drink for me. ”

#redemptioninterlude #re: marlene mckinnon; redemptioninterlude #well this happened ( ask response )#ouch

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ditch-witches · 4 years

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Insufferable (i) - George MacKay x reader

(PART 2) (PART 3) (PART 4)

requested: yes/no (im so sorry this took so long holy scheisse, there are so many parts too)

Thank you so much to our first Instagram request! @/okay.l0z I had a lot of fun with this and had to channel Ryan and Hannah's angst to help me.

"Hi! I've been reading your fics and I love them so much bc there's hardly any around. I was wondering if you take insta requests and if so can you do one with George and the reader are like enemies to loves and they have really cute moments but then end up fighting all the time and then it escalates and they end up having sEx and then get together or something bc I will THRIVE IF YOU DO!" ... "Is it bad if I want it long ass?"

also I thought about this like,,, a lot,,,

pairing: George MacKay x reader

warnings: slow-burn introduction bAsIcalLy, I think there are swear words?

word count: 2,629

a/n: There are several things to be addressed...

accuracy to George's life is like 0/100 - scratch that, they have the same hair color

think of this as an AU because idk how else to explain it

it's a slow burn. if you need something that isn't, check the next imagine over and give it a reblog.

You put your chin in your hand and furrowed your brows as you listened to the actors in front of you. The bright stage lights kept you at a suffocatingly hot temperature, but at this point, you didn't mind. What your main concern for the scene was simple: your leading actor was George MacKay. You had spent constant, stressful hours trying to convince the director of the show that he was not the choice, yet when it came down to it, what he said went, and you had to deal with the cleaning up. Today was not like any other. An almost two-hour practice, script work, lighting, etc, were all thrown at the actors still attempting to memorize their lines.

But it was this part, in particular, that was becoming the most difficult. Maybe it was because you were the ghostwriter of the script and the director was trampling on all of your ideas and dreams with a man that you could one-hundred-percent deem an enemy. Your lead character, Charlie, had a soft side to him, despite having an overpowering sense of the dangers of the world and a body to match. George wasn't Charlie. George was one of the lost boys from Peter Pan and that's all you could see him as. He needed to grow up and be a pirate with only two motives: breaking the chains of the dystopian government regime keeping him away from his wife and captaining the deadly sea creature infested waters and getting back to his wife in one piece.

But George's motives seemed to be entirely set on getting into his co-star's pants.

His cocky attitude and facade of charm made you want to rip your hair out. Sure, he took his job seriously and had several esteemed colleagues of yours raving about him, but this role wasn't his. It didn't help that you knew him from primary school, of all places, and once he found out, that's all he could bring up around you.

George rolled his sleeves and dragged a hand through his thick, red hair, the veins in his arm becoming rather predominant as he did so. He was damn near playing footsie with the girl in front of him; their flirty gazes bouncing from each other to the crumpled scripts in their hands. You rolled your eyes, feeling as if your team could see the steam rolling off your shoulders. The director was doing nothing, merely smiling giddily at the two tearing the scene to shreds. "Stop," you took the reins, standing up from your position on stage and tossing your script down. You stepped over to the two and the director didn't move an inch. "What are you doing?" You nipped, crossing your arms and stepping between George and his co-star.

He towered over you by miles; you weren't sure if this made him feel the superiority he exuded, but you always made sure to square your shoulders when you talked to him. "What do you mean? We're practicing," he slyly stated, sending a wink over your head to the girl.

You took the script from his hands, flipping a few pages to the scene they were supposed to be working on. He smirked down at you, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he watched you scan the page. His script was well-loved and worn as if it had been in his back pocket repeatedly, flipped through, folded, torn and taped, highlighted and annotated. You tried not to blush at the notes he had taken as if he had actually cared about his role. Notes such as movements and relative emotions were noted as if they were suggestions. You wet your lips, feeling George's easy-going gaze on you the whole time. "... Charlie, we have to get out of here..." You began, your eyes meeting his deep blue ones.

His face fell into a stern expression, his arms crossing heavily with a furrowed brow. "We've only just got here. I'm shipping out tomorrow. There's no way the Republic-" His Scottish accent was surprisingly thick and consistent. He was settling into Charlie.

"I don't care anymore. I'm tired of sitting idly by and watching you throw yourself away for a debt your brother can't repay." You swore you saw an actual feeling of hurt flash behind his eyes.

He chewed the inside of his cheek. "That debt is just as much mine as it is his. You're asking me to uproot and leave him, you know? I can't leave him."

"You'll die. You'll end up like the rest of the mariners haunting their wives for the rest of eternity. You're a slave." George took a few steps to stand in front of you, he was close enough that you could smell his cologne now: a sweet mix of sandalwood with hints of lavender. He smelled like a summer day spent at a cabin in the middle of a meadow. You hated it, but you wanted to bury yourself in his chest and bask in his scent for the remainder of your days.

He rested a hand on your neck, angling your face towards him as he whispered, "Look at me..." You attempted to ignore the beating of your heart in your ears and the sweat that began to spread across your back. "I'm free. I'm choosing this debt because, without it, he would die. He's the last piece of my father I have left."

You reached for his hand, covering it with your own. "What about me, Charlie? I'm here now. I'm flesh and blood in front of you. What about our child?"

"He'll be here when I get back." He pushed away from you, turning his back on you and settling his hands on his hips. "I'm not changing my mind." He looked over his shoulder at you. "Eden, I have to do this." You closed the script with a raised eyebrow, hiding how impressed you were that he actually knew his lines. The emotion he was conveying was nothing like how he had previously let on. You walked towards him and he turned back around. You pressed the script back into his hands and gave him a small glare.

"Practice how you play. I'm done with wasting time," you said more to the group than just him. The rest of the cast members weren't as proficient in hiding their amusement back as you were. The last thing George needed was another inflate to his ego. You went back to your spot, grabbing your clipboard and flipping over a few pages. The group began to gather around you slightly. "I need Eden and Charlie in with wardrobe now, the rest of you keep practicing your lines. I'll want to hear dialogue from Dane and Jack tomorrow. Give me another forty or so minutes and we'll call it?" The director nodded from the first row of seats. The crowd dispersed but George swam against the current of thespians, approaching you again.

He gave you one of his charming smiles. Be professional, you thought. "I was just wondering how that sounded to you?"

You thought for a moment, drawing the clipboard to your chest. "Yeah, it was good. Your accent's a bit dodgy, but the emotion is good. Why don't we see that during actual rehearsals?" You tilted your head at him and he looked at his shoes slightly, tucking his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Was he pretending to be humble?

"I don't know. I guess I like you more as Eden," he jeered, causing you to roll your eyes and he smiled wider.

"You're insufferable," you muttered, walking past him.

He chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll grow on you."

You scoffed slightly. "Go get fitted for suspenders and leave me alone, MacKay."

The next few days were full of constant rehearsals both in costume and script memorization. You had to admit that for some reason this show had you wrapped in a bundle of tension and anxiety. George slowly tore away at your nerves, becoming his own mess of anger and frustration as he picked up more and more on the fact that you weren't going to take his shit. You were serious about this job and you were serious about this play. His humor had diminished as it had gotten closer and closer to opening night and you weren't surprised when he would snap back at you for making an adjustment to his tone or a note on the delivery of a line.

"Stop being such a bitch!" He groaned, tugging at his hair as you crossed your arms.

"Calm down, primadonna! All I'm saying is quit pacing! Charlie isn't pacing! Where in the script does it say he's pacing-"

"THAT'S RIDICULOUS. IT DOESN'T MATTER." He moved to stand in front of you, his teeth gritting slightly. This was what your discussion had grown into, one hissy fit flaring up the other.

"FUCK, YOU'RE RIGHT. I TOTALLY FORGOT YOU WERE THE ONE IN CHARGE, MR. MACKAY. SHOULD I JUST SUCK YOUR DICK RIGHT NOW SINCE WE'RE ALREADY ADDING IN UNNECESSARY ACTION," you would bite back causing him to glare up at the ceiling with his jaw clenching in a sarcastic smile. He wore your patience thinner than tulle. And you were hoping to be doing the same to him.

On the eve of opening night, a storm broke out over the city. You hadn't received word from your ride at all---a man you had been seeing on and off for a while, but still managed to keep him at enough distance that the two of you weren't official. You glared at your watch, deciding to say fuck it and just walk the five or so miles it was to your apartment. Your rain jacket was already soaked, your umbrella proving to be no help whatsoever. But you persevered knowing full-well that if your character, Eden, were in the situation, she wouldn't have batted an eye before dropping him and his lack of communication. As the water soaked into your boots and chilled you rather quickly, you bit your tongue, regretting not waiting for the bus. Cars past you at rushed paces, wanting to get home to their loved ones if the rain worsened---you figured.

Your heart began to pound as a car pulled up beside you, causing you to wrap your hand around the bottle of mace in your coat pocket. The window rolled down, but you kept walking. "Do you need a ride?" Hollered an almost too familiar voice.

You crossed your arms and continued to walk. "No!" You called back.

The car rolled forward and you heard the driver door open. George stepped out slightly, drawing his jacket up to fight against the biting wind. "Come on! Look at this weather!"

"I'm good! Go home, George!"

He tilted his head at you with a deadpan expression. "Don't make me throw you over my shoulder." You furrowed your brows and rolled your eyes, sliding into the passenger seat of his car and taking down your hood. George watched as you did this. He slipped off his jacket. "Here." He pulled his hoodie over his head. "Take your shirt off. You'll get hypothermia."

"Excuse me?" You nipped.

It was his turn to roll his eyes. "I won't look. You're soaked. Take my damn hoodie." You looked out the front window and then let out a huff. You peeled off your upper layer, no longer giving a fuck if George saw you in your bra. You looked over to him while he leaned his arm against his door, his cheek resting against his fist as he held his hoodie out to you. You pulled the garment over your head and couldn't help but snuggle into it. It was oversized and warm, smelling just like George. Your cold skin seemed to sigh against the soft material and you felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes at how content you were. George put the car into drive after he had made sure you were taken care of. You slipped your hands into the long sleeves and fought not to dig your nose into the neckline to breathe him in. His scent was like kryptonite to you and you hated it. "Are you hungry?" He asked, looking at you briefly and flipping the heat more to your side. He smiled almost proudly to himself at the sight of you enjoying his hoodie and the safety of his car.

You quickly braided your hair, attempting to combat the wet feeling of it against your neck. "No, I'm fine thanks."

"Come on. My treat? I've been a dick to you all week."

"Fine..." You mumbled. He found a nook of a restaurant jabbed into a part of London you had yet to explore. The rain had finally let up to a drizzle as the two of you made your way inside the softly lit eatery. The two of you tucked into a booth and ordered almost instantly, you now realizing just how hungry you actually were. "What were you doing in that part of town so late?" You finally asked after they brought out a hot tea for him and topped off your coffee. His large hands cradled the steaming mug in front of him, his nose slightly red from the chilly weather outside.

He chuckled slightly. "I forgot my script in the theatre and---for some reason---couldn't stop thinking about it." You nodded hesitantly. "Why were you walking home?"

You shrugged nonchalantly. "Such beautiful weather we're having. Thought I would take an evening stroll," you joked, causing him to chuckle lightly. George's face seemed to glow slightly under the cozy lights of the restaurant, his hair slightly disheveled and damp from the rain. You now got a full sight of the t-shirt he was wearing that commemorated a football team from the graduating year ahead of yours.

There was a beat of silence between you two. "Why..." George tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, attempting to find the right words. You furrowed your brows. "Why do you hate me so much?" If you weren't looking at him, you would have sworn he was smiling behind his question.

"Seriously?"

He nodded. "Seriously."

"You dated my best friend, Sophie, and broke her heart," you answered bluntly.

George sent you a puzzled expression for half a second before grinning slightly. "Yeah, but I was ten."

"Yeah, but now she's twenty-one and we still talk about it," you quipped, taking a sip of your coffee.

He exhaled. "I was... I was ten..." He furrowed his brows. "She was pretty. Hasn't some other guy broken up with her since me?"

You shrugged again. "No, she has this mindset where if she starts getting the feeling that things aren't working, she cuts out."

"She's been dwelling over me for how many years?" He couldn't fight the grin threatening to creep across his face.

You bit the inside of your cheek in thought. "I guess that would be twelve years." He whistled. "We're good at keeping grudges."

"Well, if I ever run into her, I'll apologize." He added a lump of sugar to his tea. "Is that the only reason?"

You debated ripping him a new one, but the tiredness you felt reflected in his eyes. "It's the kick-off point. Why? Do you wanna be buddies now?" You joked, sticking your spoon in your mouth.

He rested his hand in his chin. "Nah," he pursed his lips in thought. You furrowed your eyebrows at his answer, letting a titter escape your lips. "You're too young for me." You laughed a bit harder.

"Age is just a number, baby," you hummed and he smirked at you, a sparkle in his eye.

Comment if you would like to be tagged in the next part! Let us know what you think!

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay imagines #george #1917 imagines #1917 #imagine #reader insert #george mackay angst #angst #fluff #rain

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buckysbest · 4 years

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CHAPTER SIX: WILDFLOWER Paring: ex!Bucky barnes x reader Warnings: swearing, cheating, almost smutty near the end if you squint Series Summary: Bucky realizes one can only run from their problems for so long before they must returns home but he sure as hell wasn’t expecting her to be there when he did. Word Count: 2.6k A/N: this series is based off the album “calm” by 5sos. if you want to follow along in the album, listen to Wildflower while reading this! thanks for supporting the series! i really love you guys! let me know what you think of the series!

series masterlist // masterlist

The blush that sat on your face sank deep into your skin as you lost your color. Bucky took note of your sudden change and concern captained his face. “Y/N… you ok?”

“Bucky...Y-you lied to me?”

“Y/N, what are yo-”

“You lied to me about last night Buck,” you sighed, hiding your face into your nervous hands. His head grew heavy with responsibility as it dropped with an exhale before he placed his hand on your knee and gathered your attention.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I should have said something. I just figured since you didn't remember it, well”, his hand momentarily left your leg as he ran it across the back of his neck. “I just figured that you didn't want to…”

Before you could start, he quickly continued. “Look at me,” Following his queue, your silent eyes lifted to meet his. “I don’t know what you remember, but I was absolutely sober. I meant every word that left my lips even if you didn’t. That being said, we just fell into a little bit of normalcy and I really don't want to lose that Y/N.” He searched your face anxiously for a response.

You looked down at your newly tied sneakers with a small grin. “I forgive you bucky, but I need you t-”

Fury’s sharp voice interrupted yours as it rang over the PA system on the course, “All recruits and essential personnel need to hurry their asses up into this building, we have reports of a storm coming our way and it does not look pretty.”

Other agents holding clipboards began walking faster as they made their way inside, encouraging you and Bucky to do the same. As you got into the building, even more agents filtered through you.

“Hey, Steve’s on his way over... look, why don’t I meet you after we all get settled and have dinner? Like 7ish?” he smiled.

You smiled back as you tried to control the butterflies that took over your stomach. “Y-yeah, sounds good.” He was quickly swept away by the blonde super soldier who was walking towards the conference room at a timely pace. You headed toward Tony’s office, taking a minute to process the events of the last hour or so. You had managed to lose yourself, replaying the dream-like encounter in your mind on loop, before reaching your destination. You shook the feeling off and allowed your knuckles to rap gently on the door's glass surface as Tony opened the door at the same time, almost trampling you in the process.

“Yea- wait no. just hold that till i get there. I’ll be- oh hey Y/N! Greg, give me a second, I’m on my way to the conference room now” he said before flipping his earpiece off. “Here to accompany me to the training briefing?” he laughed.

“Actually, I just wanted to hand off my paperwork. I need to help Pepper with the schedule for tomorrow,” you smiled warmly before grabbing the top few pages from your clipboard and extending them toward him.

“Oh right! Have fun and tell Mrs. Potts, she looks fabulous for me,” he smirked, taking the clipboard from your hands. You let a chuckle fall from your mouth as you passed him, heading towards Pepper’s office, only a few strides away.

Again, you found your knuckles knocking on a glass door as Pepper invited you in. “Y/N! It’s great to see you! Whatcha got for me?”

You handed her your clipboard and the remaining papers on it, “I made a list of possible sparring partners with the assistance of Sergeant Barnes during the evaluation which include estimated time based on skill level. It’s a rough outline and doesn’t include instruction time but it's a start” you smiled.

“God, you are the best!” she groaned in relief, flipping through the pages of your detailed work. “Way smarter than any of the other meatheads conducting evaluation,” she laughed before placing the clipboard on the desk and grabbing another. “I managed to get a lot done during the course training so I really don’t need much else. Could you just put this on Tony’s desk when you pass his office?”

You nodded, grabbing the new paper work before pausing, “Oh! Also Tony told me to let you know how fabulous you look,” you giggled, exiting the room and dropping the papers on Tony’s desk next door. After leaving a note that it was from Pepper, you glanced down at your watch and smiled at the timely end to your day.

You found yourself leisurely wandering to your room, dropping your work of the day at the door then closing it behind you when you finally arrived. Your hands found the wooden knobs of your dresser, pulling it open then sorting through your neatly folded pajamas in an attempt to finally get comfortable. Landing on the black t-shirt that your hands now rested on, you slid off your tight leggings and revealing sweatshirt, throwing on the oversized garment in their place. You asked Friday to play some background music as you grabbed a book off the shelf that sat next to your bed before finding a seat on the long gray couch that adorned your back wall.

Lost in the annotated pages of your favorite novel, the rain that thumped on your window added to the wonderful soundtrack your room emitted as you began to sink back into the familiar life you held here before you left. The time had escaped your mind until a soft knock thumped at your door. Your heart picked up drastically as you glanced at your watch again, this time denoting 7:00. He was punctual if nothing else.

You opened the door gently and welcomed the tall brunette in with a small nod, “Sergeant..” you giggled.

“Ma’m” he laughed back with a small bow before making his way into your room and reclining across your previously occupied couch. His eyes glanced over your bare legs drawing a light blush to your cheeks as you sat next to him, curling up into the corner of the gray loveseat. The comfort you had earlier in the day decreased at the lack of people around you as he started, “So you were saying something earlier.. You wanted something?”

The smile on his face infected your heart with warmth causing your body to shiver. “Y-yeah… I just wanted to know what happened last night… I mean I know what happened but I also, uh, well don’t and I know you would have never done a-anything like that but uhm..” you chuckled nervously, letting the hands that were on your knees fall down your smooth legs in an attempt to find any comfort hidden in this situation.

His hand met yours as he assured, “Nothing happened, I promise. There were some heated words exchanged and, uhm” he cleared his throat before you cut him off with a chuckle.

“No Buck, I-I know... “ you pointed to the now poorly covered hickey, letting your eyes fall to the ground with a small smile on your face. “I just wanted to make sure that I wasn't missing anything crucial.”

“Of course…” he said with a smile, standing up and offering you a hand. You grabbed his hand and he gently pulled you up from your seat, bringing your faces a little too close for your comfort.

“Nothing more happened than a mistake. I-I’m sure it won’t happen again” you mumbled, quickly becoming consumed in his eyes.

A cheeky grin danced onto his face as the gap between you seemed to be closing at an alarming rate. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

As you held the distance, centimeters from his face, you quickly cracked under the heavy blush that sat on your cheeks and stepped back in a sheepish manor, quickly dropping his hand and opening the door.

“Sargent,” you nodded, this time your eyes not leaving the floor.

“Ma’m.” A blush found itself on his smiling cheeks before he finally exited the room.

As you closed the door, you sank to the floor, holding your hands to your wildly beating heart.

You were made.

•••

The night passed quickly and it wasn't long before you found yourself in the gymnasium of the training hall, present for the next phase of recruitment week. The groups were divided by skill level and prospects were matched by Pepper using your scouting report.

Director Fury led the mornings commencements, taking his rightful place upon the platform at the front of the room. “Ok listen up. We are going to start dividing into groups, pay attention and follow orders or consider yourself cut. Howell, Barker, Morton, Hale, Preston. You have been assigned to Agents Romanoff and Barton, please follow your evaluator, Agent Rooney to the training room. Cole, Duran, Gonzales, Sims, Fields. You have been assigned to Agents Rogers and Barnes, please follow your evaluator Miss. Y/L”

As continued to give instructions, you raised your arm with a smile and waved, gathering the attention of the prospects who swiftly found their spots in front of you. Turning around, you began reading off the script while leading them out of the main gym.

“All right recruits, if you would follow me this way I will be taking you to an offshoot of the training facility. These rooms will be occupied by you and your instructors while I observe your progress and take notes on your performance. You will each battle in hand to hand combat and receive basic corrections from your instructors. This test is about strength and coordination just as much as your ability to receive criticism and be coached,” you paused, stopping in front of a black door. “This is where you will enter momentarily. In the event of an emergency, we will make a right here to return to the hallway we just came from, then another right to return to the main gym. When we enter, you will find a seat against the back wall and your instructors will be in to meet you briefly. Does anybody have any questions?” The small group all shook their heads in response. “Great, good luck!” you smiled, opening the door and letting them inside. Black walls encased the small room and the only illumination was found hanging above the giant white circle that laid upon the center of the black mats. You peeled off through the other door lining the walls and were greeted by two smiling faces upon entering.

“Did you scare ‘em?” Steve laughed as he and Bucky passed you.

You winked before giggling,“Only a little.”

The boys entered the room, giving a very similar speech to you before calling up the first match. You watched through the one way mirror as Daniel Cole, a tall brunette built like a steam roller and Alexa Gonzales, a small brunette with an athletic build, took their places on the edge of the circle. They quickly entangled themselves, Alexa mercilessly placing hits on him with her unbelievable agility until she found herself suddenly pinned under the much bigger Daniel.

“That was a really great job Alexa. You had him on the ropes but he managed to grab your arm. Can anybody tell me what shifted the momentum here?” Steve paused. Met with silence he continued, “With you being so much smaller than him, you can't do the normal reversal here which leaves you open to the arm bar he caught you in. Uh, let me- Y/N? Can you come here for a second?” Steve called through the glass. You tried to call back, quickly remembering the room was he couldn't hear you through the soundproof walls. You got up quickly and peaked your head through the door.

“How can I help?” you offered with a smile.

“Can you demo an arm bar reversal on Bucky for them step by step I can walk them through it?”

You nodded as you laid down on the mat, allowing Bucky to lock you in the arm bar and Steve to begin. “So with his legs significantly longer than her arms, she can't reconnect her hands to pull herself up,” he paused prompting you to move into your next position. “Instead, she bridges her shoulders off the ground and rotates, pulling herself under his leg then up and over as opposed to..” his words quickly faded away as you laid on top of Bucky. You could feel his heavy breath on your neck as you held the position, desperate for Steve to say break. As if he could read your mind he speech quickly stopped causing you to jump to your feet and offer a hand to Bucky, eventually pulling him up.

You disappeared back into the eval room more breathless and red in the face then you’d like to admit. As they continued their instruction, you found it harder and harder to maintain your composure with Bucky demonstrating throw after throw. It drove you mad watching him do what he does best and your close contact didn't help your growing want for him. As Steve handed out correction after correction, Bucky became quieter, eventually pulling Steve in and mumbling something in his ear. Steve nodded with a smile before Bucky began walking towards your door.

He slipped into the room and gently closed the door behind him.

“Hey, do you need any help with eval?” Walking behind you, he peeked over your shoulder to read your notes and his closeness burned through your hold body.

Without thinking, you turned your head and connected your lips to his. He quickly broke the kiss, shock written on his face through his raised eyebrows and slightly agape mouth.

You braced yourself for the cold rejection you knew too well but much to your surprise, he pulled you up, connecting your lips again. His hands slammed roughly into your hips as he lifted you up prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. He carried you towards the door, flipping the lock before practically slamming your back into the dark wall behind you. Your teeth caught his bottom lip, drawing a groan from his slightly swollen lips, before breaking quickly to pull off your shirts. He released a quiet needy whine at the absence of your lips but was muted by them smashing into his again. Your hands ran down his chest as he put your feet on the ground and trapped your body against the wall with his large arms, opting to continue his kisses down the side of your neck. His hands ran the sides of your body feverishly, reacquainting him with the details that he had desperately tried to forget over the past year and a half. Your lips then connected with his neck, reliving memories of your own as you gently began to gently suck and nibble at his sweet spot, being careful not to leave a hickey.

“God, you are the only one who fucking does that right,” he groaned before your lips met again. His hands slid down your waist and on to your ass as he squeezed hard enough for you to know there would be a bruise in the morning. He then moved his kiss down to your collarbone and gently bit down. Your hand found his shoulder as you lightly pushed him back, leaning for a last kiss before breaking all contact between you.

“You don’t get to leave marks if I can’t Buck....” you said softly, scooting under his arm and throwing your t-shirt back on. You tossed him his shirt next and as he slid it on over his confused face you unlocked the door, propping it open slightly. You grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door before, your hand found his now clothed chest.

You pressed up onto your tippy toes to reach his ear, “I can't be a side piece Sarge and you know that. If you decide to end it with the girlfriend, then you can mark me up. Any way you want,” you whispered before fixing his disheveled hair and fully opening the door.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #ex!bucky barnes au #ex!au #ex!bucky barnes #buckysbest calm #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel series

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diarrheaworldstarhiphop · 5 years

Link

Five years ago, while a student at Columbia, Sulkowicz lugged a dorm-issue, extra-long twin mattress around campus for as long as she had to attend school with her alleged rapist. This was Mattress Performance (Carry That Weight), a globally viral art piece that made visible the weight of campus sexual assault. It transformed Sulkowicz into an icon. Since then, her artworks have regularly roused the internet: a video of her reenacting her assault, a bondage performance at the Whitney that doubled as institutional critique. This past spring, she tweeted an image that was perhaps even more provocative: a photo of her grinning alongside two of her libertarian critics — not performance art, she insists, but a byproduct of her new curiosity about other views.

“All my clothes are in boxes,” she tells me, gesturing apologetically to her oversize charcoal hoodie. She’s in the midst of moving from a sublet owned by a tantra instructor (mirrors surrounding the bed to create an infinite regression — that kind of thing) to an apartment in lower Manhattan whose location she asks me not to reveal, since “there’s some really scary people who are obsessed with me.” Her hair is short-cropped and coffee black, its natural color after years of bright dyes, and her voice is buoyant, laughter always bubbling underneath. Since 2016, Sulkowicz has identified as gender fluid, and she sometimes uses they/them pronouns. When I ask what to use for this article, she texts me, “Lol I’m not clear about it either,” before settling on she/her.

During the summer of 2018, Sulkowicz tells me, she was single for the first time in years. Swiping through Tinder, a man she found “distasteful” super-liked her. “It smelled like Connecticut,” she says of his profile. “He was very blond, law school, cut jawline, trapezoidal body figure, tweed suit kind of vibe, but something inside of me made me swipe right, I don’t know.” They began messaging, and she found him witty. “He was actually way more fun to talk to than any other person I matched with.”

Eventually, Sulkowicz stalked him on Twitter and realized that he was conservative — “like, very conservative.” At first, she was repulsed and considered breaking it off. But then she thought, “Wait, actually, that’s kind of fucked up because he’s the most interesting person I’ve come across, shouldn’t I be open to talking to him?” After dispelling her initial fear, she texted him that it would be “interesting (progressive? Powerful?) for two people who might be the antithesis of each other to go on a Tinder date.”

Ahead of this date, they traded reading assignments: Sulkowicz gave him the password to protected areas of her website, and he sent pieces he’d written for conservative magazines, which she printed, annotated with her critiques, and brought to their date. This man expected Sulkowicz to be “the patron saint of wokeness,” but when he met her, he found that she wasn’t actually trying to litigate the issues — she was mostly just “curious about this different perspective that she had not been as familiar with.” The two “sort of dated” for a while and then realized that their chemistry was more conversational. They became “amazing friends.”

Not having known conservatives before, Sulkowicz had to play catch up. Early in their friendship, she asked him to recommend one book to help her understand him, and he picked Jonathan Haidt’s The Righteous Mind. It’s a book that explains, in evolutionary terms, the human tendency toward political tribalism and the importance, in light of that, of learning from one another’s beliefs. She calls the book “mind-opening.” Its resonance with her new friendship did not escape her.

Shortly after, Sulkowicz attended a book talk of Haidt’s. This was for The Coddling of the American Mind, which diagnoses the campus left with the kinds of cognitive distortions that addle the chronically anxious and depressed: a tendency to blow everyday problems out of proportion, or to believe that one’s negative feelings reflect reality. This book kicked a hornet’s nest on the left, and when Haidt learned that Sulkowicz was at his talk, he didn’t assume she was a fan. “I expected her to be the sort of person who sometimes asks the angry question when I give lectures on campuses,” Haidt tells me. “And when I first saw her and she had blue hair, that fed my assumptions and expectations about what her views and values would be.” But Sulkowicz surprised him. “It changed the way I think about politics,” she said about The Righteous Mind, “and I wanted to thank you for it.” The two became friends.

Soon, she began attending house parties and happy hours with conservative and libertarian intellectuals, reading Jordan Peterson and articles from the National Review. In the past, Sulkowicz dismissed opposing views without understanding them, but now she sees intellectual curiosity as intertwined with respect: she wants to disagree with people on their own terms. This is an ethical position, but one with personal resonance. “I’ve always been upset,” she admits, “that there are people out there who assume that I’m a bad or mean person without ever having met me.” When she describes her political journey, she fixates on the experience of surprising people, of walking into a group who might otherwise dislike her and “disrupting their expectations.” At these parties, she reflects, “I can become fuller to certain people rather than staying the same caricature. I’m going from flat to round.”

- - -

A couple weeks after our lunch, Sulkowicz brings me to a book party at a dark bar on Bleecker Street. Here, she introduces me to her friend from Tinder, who asks that I not use his real name for this article. (It might be a distraction at his white-shoe law firm and, besides, “Emma is inured to online hate, but I am not.”) When he asks if he can choose his own pseudonym, I tell him sure. He picks Chad. It’s a reference to the incel term for men who, due to serendipitous genetics, are attractive enough to have oodles of sex. All of us laugh, but Sulkowicz laughs loudest, her voice tinkling, bell-like, and leaping between octaves.

Chad is a Chad, by the way, and he does “smell like Connecticut”: he has cornsilk hair, a shieldlike chest, and a jawline that an incel might show his surgeon for inspiration. But Chad is also a different kind of conservative than I imagined. Rather than a bowtie-sporting William F. Buckley type thumbing his nose at populism, he finds Reaganism laughably passé and aligns himself with Tucker Carlson’s anti-elite drive to regulate markets. He says that he would support some of Trump’s policy agenda, if only the president were competent enough to achieve it.

This party is for Robby Soave, a libertarian reporter on the snowflake beat whose new book, Panic Attack: Young Radicals in the Age of Trump, is — per Soave’s own description — “a book that is extremely critical of [Sulkowicz] and that I don’t wish her to read.” Soave met Sulkowicz a month or so before at another libertarian happy hour. Initially bewildered, he warmed to her, finding her to be inquisitive and even fun to talk to. “We exchanged contact information,” he tells me later, “and talked about maybe becoming, I guess, friends or something?” He laughs incredulously as he says this, sounding a bit on edge.

As Sulkowicz swirls around the party, her presence stirs an obvious question: whether this is performance art. Soave brings it up twice when we speak on the phone afterward, acknowledging the possibility that he’s being set up. While he’s inclined to believe that Sulkowicz is moved by earnest curiosity, he’s aware of her background in “elaborately planned performance art” and her reputation as a provocateur. Since graduating from Columbia in 2015, Sulkowicz has done around a dozen performances touching on issues like consent, anti-institutionalism, climate change, trauma, wellness, and female sexual desire. It’s natural to wonder if she’s currently breaking bread with this crowd to lampoon civility politics or to expose views she hates. Honestly, it might be harder to believe that she’s simply trying to learn.

But Sulkowicz is adamant that this isn’t performance. In fact, she insists that she’s quitting art altogether. After one of our lunches, she bikes off to return the keys to her studio, which she’s emptied and swept clean. “For many years,” she explains, “I wasn’t interested in listening to other points of view. I was very emotional and making performance-art pieces that were very reactionary and fiery.” Without disowning them, she describes these artworks as something she “got out of her system.”

Having found the art world humorless, narrow-minded, and grotesquely competitive, Sulkowicz says she stopped making art about a year ago. She quit a fellowship at a museum, ceased teaching art classes, and was essentially unemployed for a time, drawing income from occasional speaking gigs, mostly about campus sexual assault. (Her remarks on Me Too have been fewer; she supports it, but wants a clearer path to forgiveness.) She has been working on a memoir that draws on her diaries from Mattress Performance, and last month, she started a full-time, four-year master’s program in traditional Chinese medicine. There, she’ll learn skills from acupuncture to herbalism, which have been her “personal healing modality” for years. Sulkowicz has parried assumptions that this is performance art, too. It grates on her. “I’m a human and humans can change,” she says, insistently. “I’m telling you that I don’t want to make art anymore.”

But in some ways, it’s easier to assume that Sulkowicz’s political posture is performance art: this provides a clear motive, one that’s politically straightforward. If Sulkowicz is not making art, then it’s much harder to grasp why she’s doing this and what it means. Part of the confusion, Sulkowicz assumes, springs from a pervasive misunderstanding about who she is, rooted in the dissonance between her public image and private consciousness. While many assume she’s at Soave’s book party for some admixture of art and progressive politics, Sulkowicz says she’s mostly there for fun.

#emma sulkowicz #profile #mattress performance (carry that weight)#politics #power

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softlouve · 4 years

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I was tagged by @louveontour & @theleavesoflorien, thank you so much, darlings! ♡

1. Book this-or-that

hardcover or paperback • rent or buy • reads in silence or reads with music • standalone or series • annotations or pristine pages • ebook or physical copy • dog ears or bookmarks • mismatched series or complete set • cover matters or you don’t judge • lend books or keep them to yourself • enjoys lit classics or despises them • browses shops or orders online • reads reviews or goes in blind • unreturned books or clean library record • rereads or once was enough • fanfic enthusiast or a stickler for canon • deep reader or easily distracted • must read the book before seeing the movie or order doesn’t matter • has neat bookshelves or messy bookshelves • skips ahead or resists temptation • reads aloud or in your head • guesses plot twists or never sees them coming

(tbh I’m not that much of a novel reader... I do read books but, it’s mostly just fanfics hahah)

2. A few things about my blog

Header: it’s a picture of the sky (well, duh) with a pretty coloured cloud and it’s just so lovely, I love simple lovely things. and it accidentally matches with my icon! so that’s nice :)

Icon: Mr. Louis Tommo for Highsnobiety magazine shoot by Alex de Mora

Description: a quote I don’t know from where or by whom but I remember seeing it on my dash (I think) and idk. thought it was simply reassuring 💗

Content: mainly 1D + zayn & hl with like maybe 25% of aesthetic and 5% inspirational quotes/words

Background color: white

Text color: peachy pink with dark powder blue (on mobile but it looks slightly different on desktop) highlight

Url meaning: soft: umm...I’m a softie, louve: well I easily fall in love with everything and it’s also inspired by when louis says “love”... it sounds like “louuve” because of his beautiful accent and alsoo it’s lou-ve. get it? lou. short for louis. god I love louis

Blog title meaning: be a lover, choose love, give love...love everyone, always. - Harry Styles (literally a short for that quote. ugh my mind)

I’m tagging: @strawberryhabit @louiscoven @cockytommo @stuhde @rosegoldeyelids @punkgrantaire @adoredontour @mysnflower & anyone else who wants to do either or all of these! 💞

#okay this took me longer because I'm so slow but that's okay 'cause here I am finally finished after 2 years typing those fksdfjks #thanks again for tagging me babes! hope you're all having a wonderful day/night. x

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monster-addict · 5 years

Text

Unexpected

Orc x Human!OC

Multipart Fic - Part 2

I woke up early, and took a shower. I already had my bag packed for class, I had my textbooks on my phone, so I didn't need to worry about that weight. I had my notebooks and different colored pens for my note taking. That's mainly what these first few weeks are going to be, note taking.

I made breakfast for everyone again, but it was small, toast and sausage. I put some tea in my water bottle and waited for Nick. He came down not too long after I finished my food. We didn't really say much, but it was comfortable. We got to class and I sat in the front or the far left side of the class, no one really sat over by me, which I was glad about.

It was a small class in a big lecture hall, it was maybe 14 of us in the class. Nick sat directly across from me in the class, but later on during the class when our teacher wanted us to read. That was when a girl from the middle of the class went over and sat by him. I assumed it was his girlfriend, or a close friend of his. I continued to read and next thing I know, class was over.

"I forgot to show you my schedule yesterday." I went up to Nick after class.

"Yeah, you share my schedule except for the gen ed classes. I think Orlov has those classes though." He told me, the girl was lingering behind a bit.

We walked to the next class which was down the hall a little bit, him and the girl talked a little bit more before they parted ways.

It seemed as if it were the same class, fewer people too. It was mainly orcs in this class, three female orcs, and I was half the amount of human females. It was about 4 human males and 5 male orcs. This professor was orc, with long hair down his back. I took out a different notebook and started my note taking process. This class he mainly talk, our reading was to do on our own time. I made a note in my phone to read, as well as in my agenda.

Class was over and I had about an hour before my last class started for the day. I went to the library just to browse their collection. I was going to do all of my reading once I got in, it wouldn't take me long anyway.

"Are you new around here?" I heard a voice come from my right.

"Yeah, I just transferred actually." I turned to the male.

"Demetri." He stuck his hand out.

"Skylar." I shook his hand.

He wasn't as big as Orlov or Nick, but considering I'm only 5'2 most orcs tower over me. He has a slimmer figure should I say, but he's still very tall, maybe 6'3.

"What are you majoring in, literature?" He asked.

"No, I'm actually a biochemistry major." I laughed a bit.

"Oh I would've never assumed. Most of the girls around here found those classes to be boring or not really for them. Now if you were taking the regular classes to be a doctor, that would be different. Not a lot of people around here are doing biochem in the first place to be honest." He said.

"Yeah, I've noticed the lack of students in my earlier classes, on top of the fact that they are early classes. What about you, what's you major?" I asked.

"Take a guess." He said.

"Accounting, or sometime of business major?" I asked him.

"You hit it on the money." He said.

"Lucky me, so what year are you in?" I asked him.

"Well, technically my second year, I just switched my major around so these classes are new for me. I like them more than psychology." He said.

"That would've been my back up, psychology. Either that or dermatology." I said.

"Why dermatology?" He looked confused.

"I like extracting comedones." I said.

"Whatever that means." He rolled his eyes.

"Blackheads and whiteheads." I laughed at him.

"Come sit with me?" He asked.

"Sure."

I followed along beside him as best as I could. I could tell he even tried to slow his pace so I could keep up, but it didn't work too well. We finally sat down in a nice corner without too many people.

"How are you liking it here so far?" Demetri asked.

"I haven't been here long enough to have an opinion, but so far so good." I said.

"How's your dorm and roommate?" He asked.

"Well, honestly, my best friend is the one that convinced me to come here. She just got one of the houses they let you rent out. She said beforehand she was in the co-ed dorms, but her roommate didn't like her. She got along with the two dudes she shared the bathroom with, so they are our other roommates in the house." I told him.

"What's your friend's name?" He asked.

"Aria." I told him.

"Oh that's the one that helps out with our dance team, do you dance?" He asked me.

"Have you seen any of her videos?" I asked.

"Yeah, but not many, why?" He asked.

"Oh well, I'm in some of her videos, so yes, I do dance." I told him.

We talked a little more until I had to go to class, we exchanged numbers and he walked me to class.

I got seated in what is going to be my regular spot, for the rest of my college life. This professor was an elf, so that was a little change up from the rest of my routine. That class went by fairly fast as well, and before I know it I'm walking over to Nick.

"Hey, you mind dropping me off at the house. Orlov said you like to go to study hall after class." I said.

"You aren't going to come too?" He asked.

"No, I don't do well studying in groups, or around a lot of people. I'd rather be in the comfort of my own bed." I tell him.

"I get that, I can drop you off. And for the record, I only go to study hall to meet up with June." He said as we walked.

"June is?" I looked up at him confused.

"Oh right, June is my girlfriend." He said.

"I didn't want to assume, but it seemed like it." I said.

We didn't say much of anything walking out to the car, but I saw Demetri on the way out. I gave him a slight wave and he gave me a head nod. Once I got to the house, I gave Nick a quick thanks before he drove off. I went in the house, and no one was home, not yet at least. We need a group chat for the house, or at the very least, I need to be added to it. I went up to my room and got out my agenda, going in order by class. I opened the book on my laptop, so I can annotate it while I read. I then wrote in my notebook some things to better help me understand the subject.

I spent around 3 hours doing my work, an hour for each class, making sure I at least understand the material. I went online to check my work to make sure I didn’t forget anything. I heard the front door open and close with a little bit of force. It was hard to tell who it was, all orcs are really strong, and tend to over do things when not paying attention. It turned out to be Orlov, I figured by peaking my head out.

"Hey Sky, you need something?" He asked before he went in his room.

"Nothing major, I wanted to know if there was a group chat for the house? I wanted to cook dinner for everybody again. But I don't have you guys numbers, nor am I in a group chat." I said.

"Oh yeah, we do have one, give me your number, I'll add you to it." He pulled out his phone.

I gave him my number and he added me to the chat, I already had Aria's number, and Orlov just told me his, so that just left Nick.

"Hey, umm, do you think you could help me with something?" Orlov asked.

"Sure, what's up?" I asked him.

"I need some help with my math, and Aria would always say how you were a pro at math, and she would go to you for help." He said.

"OH, I remember you now, you play football right?" I asked him.

"Yeah." He smiled and puffed his chest out a bit.

"But yeah I can help you, you want to knock it out of the way right now?" I offered.

"Yeah, might as well get it over with." He lead me into his room.

He got out his workbook and textbook and showed me what he had problems solving.

"Oh this is easy, let me show you a different way to think about it." I told him.

He had some geometry like stuff so I was grabbing random objects around his room using them as examples. I could show him how to do the problem, but that won't mean he'll understand it. If I help him understand the process, then he can solve the problem himself.

"Oh man Aria was right, you are good at this. Thanks, I really appreciate it." Orlov tells me.

"It's no problem, anytime you need help with anything, just let me know. I'm happy to help." I tell him.

"You want to join me for a few games of COD?" He asked me.

"You have any other work you need to do?" I asked him.

"No, I got it all done in class and during my hour break period." He said.

"Sure, I'll play a little, then I'm going to go cook." I told him.

He put it on Blackout immediately this time around, a first we were dying a little bit. I blamed it on both of us just now starting to play. After the first 3 games, we started to place higher in the matches. In our last game, we got really far, 3rd team, before someone killed Orlov, so I was left by myself playing. I was able to take the last two teams out and win the game.

"YEEEEESSSS!" We both cheered.

Orlov picked me up and spun me around, before Nick opened the door, that's when Orlov put me down.

"Well, time to get cooking." I smiled and walked towards the door.

"What's going on in here?" Nick frowned a bit.

"Sky here just carried me to a victory." He said.

"Oh please. I'm making tacos that sound okay?" I asked them both.

"Yeah that's fine, corn or flour?" Nick asked.

"Well which do you want?" I asked.

"Corn." Nick said.

"I hate corn, it's all dry and nasty. FLOUR PLEASE!" Orlov said.

"How about I make both, I like both so they won't go to waste." I laughed at them.

They agreed and I went downstairs to brown the meat, that's when Aria came in.

"How was your first day?" She asked me.

"Nothing too exciting." I said.

"Meet anyone?" She asked.

"Someone named Demetri, but I get a playboy feeling from him, not that I'm looking for a relationship. I just--"

"Yes, the drama attached to the dick-- I mean man." She cut me off.

"Exactly." I laughed at her.

"Tacos?" She asked standing next to me.

"Yep, corn or flour?" I asked her.

"I'll gladly take flour, who eats corn?" She said in a fake disgust.

"I do, and apparently Nick does too." I laughed at her.

"You two are something else." She shook her head and went upstairs.

I finished making the taco meat, and I assembled all the toppings and tortillas out.

I sent a text out, letting everyone know that the food is done, shortly after everyone came down.

"Just taste it." I handed my taco out to Aria.

She hesitated for a second before she bit into it.

"Mmm, you know, that actually is good, what did you do to it?" She asked me.

"I warmed it up of course." I laughed at her.

"O, you really should try it." Aria took a taco off my plate.

"And convert me to your corn tortilla loving cult, I think not." He put up an argument.

"Please." I gave him a slight pout.

He stared at me, debating whether he wanted to take a bite.

"Man, you don’t play fair." He took the taco from Aria, biting into it.

"Damn, when you're right, you're right. This is good." He laughed nodding his head.

"Told you." Nick pitched in.

"I still love my flour though." Orlov hurried and added.

I shook my head and laughed at him. We talked and laughed a bit before I got tired. I cleaned up and put away the leftovers. I went upstairs and took my shower, I checked to make sure my bag was packed for tomorrow and I went to sleep.

//Masterlist//

#orc x human #exophilia #gxf #unexpected

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