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flamingo-writes · 11 months

Note

ok but hear me out, artist f reader having pregnancy craving and hobie is taking care of her, that would be so adorable 😭💖 really love your posts, xoxo

No listen, I’m with you in this. Part of his badass punk nature is looking after his own, like the way he looks after Gwen, and how he helped Miles after 20 minutes of meeting him. I’m sure he’d be hella attentive of his s/o especially if his s/o is pregnant. Let’s go!

Chocolate Banana Bread — Hobie x Reader

You never really discussed children. Living together, staying life long partners was out of the question. It was just a given. Children were never part of the conversation. Not because you didn’t want them, but because it never turned up.

And when you found out you were pregnant, the both of you panicked a little bit. And you weren’t sure on what to do next. And the more time it went by, the more comfortable and even excited you got with the idea of becoming parents.

Hobie was already a very supportive boyfriend, but the moment you found out about the pregnancy he became even more protective and attentive. Even when you thought it was impossible. Especially when it came to your cravings.

However, his spider sense worked almost like telepathy. Every time he came home from doing his spidey duties, or just running errands, he always brought you something. And somehow it always seemed to be exactly what you craved.

Most of your days looked the same. Working in art pieces in the morning, a couple of commissions, a couple of personal projects. You went to the art gallery you helped run and helped around with whatever was needed. Lunch break. Some more time at the gallery, mostly showing people around. And then back home. And an hour or so later, Hobie returned.

However, on one of your free days, halfway through your pregnancy, you were starting to get restless. You spent the morning not doing much, watering your plants, cleaning your brushes, organising all the paint you had, even gathering all of Hobie’s sketches and pieces of scrap paper he used for his collages and random materials for installations.

This day in particular you weren’t sure what you were craving. But you wanted to eat something very particular, but you couldn’t pin point exactly what. Chocolate maybe? Bread? You could do some chocolate bread, but there was something else missing. Raisins? No. That was weird. But pregnant women got weird cravings wasn’t it? Banana? You don’t remember being this crazy over bananas but many of the things that had changed, you attributed them to the pregnancy.

Chocolate banana bread.

As you looked around the kitchen, you grew frustrated with the fact that you had very few cocoa powder. Enough flour. And no bananas. In any other moment, you could easily grab your wallet and keys and go buy what you needed. But not today. Today the raging hormones got the better of you and you felt incredibly overwhelmed with everything. The lack of ingredients. The effort of grabbing your things. Walking to the store. On your free day! This isn’t how you wished to spend your free day! Bubbling like soda, your emotions soon erupted from your eyes in desperate tears as you tried to make sense of your own emotions.

“Home, sweet’eart!” You heard Hobie’s voice echoing, coming from the room. “Marco!”

“Polo!” You replied between sobs.

Upon hearing your shaky voice, Hobie rushed out of the bedroom, alarmed. As he saw you, he got up to you and called your name softly.

“Hey, hey, baby, what’s wrong?” He asked as he gently cupped your cheeks in his large hands. “Hey, it’s okay. Everything’s gonna be okay, baby, what happened?”

“I wanted to make chocolate banana bread and we only’ve got flour…” You sobbed softly, your eyes wide and teary.

Hobie chuckled softly and kissed your forehead. “Hey, it’s a’ight, let’s make banana bread, luv…” He said as he pulled away and swung his backpack off his shoulder and opened it. “Take a peek,”

You cleaned your tears and looked at him puzzled before looking inside. Your eyes widened, and the plethora of hormones and emotions made your eyes teary once more as you started crying again. Hobie giggled softly.

“Hobie! You brought what we needed for the banana bread!” You sobbed.

“Hey, it was a hunch. These spider senses are pretty spot on, aren’t they?” He chuckled as you nodded and cleaned your face with the back of your hand. “Come on, luv…” He said, kissing your forehead. “You can stop crying…”

“I’m just very happy, Hobes…” You cried softly.

“I know, babe…” He chuckled cupping one of your cheeks, “I think it’s cute, actually” he purred before jerking his head, “c’mon, let’s get bakin’, although, I don’t want my banana bread all salty from tears…” He teased, making you laugh.

“Let me go wash my face…” You whispered as he clicked his tongue and winked.

“Sure, I’ll get started in everything else,”

#hobie brown x reader #hobie x y/n #hobie x you #hobie brown headcanons #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown x y/n #hobie x reader

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its-wabby-stuff · 10 months

Text

By the Side of the Black Lake

I can’t remember how I found the lake, or when. But it was instantly mesmerizing.

The surface lay completely still, bordered by rocks on the east side and a glassy beach of soft sand on the west. There were no waves, no tide, I wasn’t even sure if it was water.

Just a black ink that spread out, shaped by the land, completely opaque. It didn’t feel natural, but it looked beautiful.

I could sit on the lake side for hours, just admiring it and it’s intensity. I wouldn’t dare to touch it. Things this peculiar in nature always came with some horrific price. A temperature hot enough to boil you alive, or completely melt the flesh off bones. (Like the sulphur springs in Yellowstone, except this didn’t smell of rotting eggs).

Things had been dropped into the lake before, but the surface was so dark, you would never be able to tell what happened to it. It would just disappear into the darkness. Things could float on the surface but the patterns never matched any typical current, it moved at its own leisure, as if the lake was playing with it. But just like everything else, it would eventually sink into the depths.

Sometimes things would wash up on shore, bones of birds and animals that had tried to swim. Unsettling to say the least.

Some believed the lake was cursed, but I was never one to believe in magic. Still, it was hard to shake that the lake felt- alive. It could feel happy and sad and angry, and the environment and the surface of the lake acted on these. Unpredictable as ever.

I was afraid. There were so many uncertainties visiting a lake like this. But it was practically impossible to ignore the strange comfort I got staring into the darkness, pondering its depths, and admiring its beauty.

Curiosity’s temptation always calls until it receives an answer.

I found myself visiting more and more frequently, and spending more and more time amongst the quiet solitude of the lake, although I never felt alone. It became a habit to visit the lake everyday. I’d bring a blanket and set up atop one of the rocks that presented the best view. I’d sketch, read, nap. I’d watch people come by with their own stories. They’d leave things for the lake. Throw things into the lake. Walk around the border. I’d hum and sing and whisper conversations to myself. It felt like someone was listening, and conversations with myself and some distant party became common.

I wanted to share ideas and stories and life, until speaking out loud became less to help myself understand and more for someone else to listen to.

I was always so careful to clean up after myself. Not leave anything behind. I didn’t want to upse- I didn’t want to lose something I might regret letting go of. But I guess I was distracted, lost in my head, and I forgot.

I only realized that I had when I went to visit the lake the next day. It was missing. I must’ve left it behind. I looked everywhere for it. Even places I had never actually visited by the lakeside. I searched and searched til the sun started to set.

I didn’t know what to do. Perhaps the lake had- no that’s impossible. The lake couldn’t have taken it. It’s up on the rocks. So someone else- but there was no one else around. I couldn’t have lost it.

Even if it didn’t have much monetary value, I had spent weeks by the lake side using it, and it didn’t feel right to not have it. I can’t believe I lost it, and I couldn’t help but cry at my own incompetence.

I hadn’t realized how close I’d gotten to the edge until it was too late, and one misstep caused me to fall into the lake. I only had a second to catch a breath before I was submerged into the darkness.

In moments that catch you off guard you find yourself doing things you never would’ve before. And I opened my eyes, not like it helped since I couldn’t see anything. I had no idea where I was and no sense of direction. The surface was missing, and panic began to settle deeper within me.

My mind began to focus on my breath, or the lack of breath. I hadn’t been ready to be submerged, and I could feel the choke hold my lungs had on me, begging me for more air. Air I couldn’t give it.

Was this it? Was this where I was to die. I suppose it could be worse. My flesh could be melting off my body, but the darkness was surprisingly tame. I wouldn’t say cold just as much as I wouldn’t say hot. It was- comforting. Like being held. And the darkness seemed to wrap itself around me. I couldn’t tell if it was trying to help, or trying to push me further down. But I was unwelcome either way.

I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold my breath, but maybe there was no point holding onto something I couldn’t control. Maybe I should just-

Two massive orange- um- eyes appeared before me. One with a slash straight through. I swam backward, startled. What was this thing? Some sort of lake creature? I wasn’t even aware anything lived inside. I thought- this must be what eats the creatures that get stuck.

They got closer, and I tried moving away, but I was stuck. I couldn’t move, and the tugging and flailing of my arms was only met with resistance. The glowing eyes circled me, settling behind me and than looked up. Up! That was the surface!

I swam up as fast as I could, following the refracting orange light all the way. My lungs longed for another breath. I could feel it leaping in anticipating until finally, I breached the surface and gasped for air in a fit of coughs. Quickly, I swam toward the beach, pulling myself completely out of the lake and a little extra for good measure.

It was dark now, the final glitter of the sun settling behind the mountain. All the beauty the lake offered by day as an oddity left when given the dark abyssal nature it had by night. It looked as if nothing was there. As of the universe itself ended in this very spot.

I pulled my knees up to my chest as I tried to get myself to move. A wave brushed itself on the sand, over and over until something was left on the beach.

That was mine. What I’d been searching for! I found it or- it was returned to me. I looked out over the lake again. Quiet and still as ever.

———————-

I don’t know how comfortable @somerandomdudelmao is with fanfiction of their own persona, but the very intriguing idea of a sentient, completely black lake divined me with inspiration and I had to write out an idea. I tried to keep it mysterious in nature because I have a lot of unknown variables. I also wanted people to put themselves in these shoes, so this isn’t about me per se. I wanted the lake to be as inspiring as it is mysterious, trying to embody a bit of Cass in it.

#story time #the black lake #wabbystuffpost #long post #short story #open ended #Cass dropped more sona lore and I wanted to take advantage of it #y/n perspective #thanks for being inspiring #ideas breed more ideas #mysterious #story prompt #sentient lake

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crazyunsexycool · 1 year

Text

Unbreakable

Chapter 2

Pairing: Steve rogers x reader

Word count: 2.0k

Warning: anxiety attack, nothing else really, Marvin being a good boy!

A/N: I’m gonna be honest I forgot I was writing this but here is chapter 2.

Series masterlist

Ch 1

Marvin whined as he stood by you. He tried to push his snout in between your legs and chest but you pushed him away. You were distressed and having an anxiety attack and all Marvin wanted to do was his job, calm you down. It took another try but Marvin successfully got your attention. He nuzzled his head into your chest until he felt your hands scratch behind his ears and your breaths starting to slow down. Slow deep breaths and cuddling took a few minutes but you were able to calm down.

Your new boss had decided to yell at you over a virtual team meeting for something that ended up not being your fault. Even though he apologized it had triggered your anxiety. As soon as the meeting was over you began to cry and then it felt like you couldn’t breathe at all. You’re not even sure when you ended up curled up in the corner of the living room. It wasn’t until Marvin brought you a water bottle and medication that you realized where you were.

“You’re such a good boy, Marvin.” You kissed the top of his head as soon as you calmed down. “The only boy I’ll ever trust.” You said as you ran your hand over his fur to further ground you.

After taking another few minutes you got back up and sat at your desk. You grabbed the journal you had started to keep track of these occurrences and wrote it down. This was your fifth notebook since your therapist had suggested it. It was meant to show you the progress you were making but you didn’t feel like there was any progress. Still you gave it a shot. After finishing the rest of your work day you turn to Marvin who is sitting by your feet.

“Let’s go for a walk, Marvin. Go get your leash.” The German Shepherd perks up and heads toward the front door to grab his leash while you change.

Steve sat at his desk, a sketchbook opened to an unfinished sketch. It was the New York skyline or at least half of it. Usually sketching helped him calm down, focus his mind on one thing. But ever since he met you all he could think about was you. Since that day Steve had checked and double checked his phone. He hoped you would call him just so that he knew you were ok but as the days and then weeks went on he gave up that hope too. He flipped the blank pages of the book and found the one he made of you. That same night he opened it for the first time since before the blip and drew something, someone, beautiful. His thumb caressed your face as he thought of the fearful look you gave him when he stopped you in the hallway.

After checking his watch, Steve closed his sketchbook and headed out the door to another meeting.

At the last minute you decided to head to a meeting. You were still feeling on edge and just being around other people that could understand how you felt made you feel more at ease. Marvin sat at your side, his head on your lap in order to comfort you.

“Would anyone else like to share?”

Another woman raises her hand and she begins to tell her story. Not that different from your own. She did everything from working and paying the bills to cooking and cleaning while her now ex did nothing. She explained how it’s been a few years since she left but that sometimes certain things will trigger a panic attack. It was why she was at the meeting.

Once the meeting was over you walked up to the woman who had shared her story. Everyone was talking and getting some of the refreshments that had been laid out.

“Excuse me, Lisa?” You say softly and she turns to you. A warm smile gracing her lips.

“Hi.”

“I just wanted to say thank you for sharing your story. We- uh we share a few similarities.”

“Have you ever talked in the group?”

You shake your head and grip Marvin’s leash tighter.

“You aren’t ready for it?”

“No, I’m still new to this group.”

She nods and digs into her purse, taking out her phone. “Would you like to trade numbers? Maybe we could have coffee or something.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” You smile for the first time that day as you trade numbers and you give her your name. “Thanks.”

“Of course, we can try and meet this week.”

“I’d like that. I’ll see you later.” You wave goodbye and head out.

Another woman from the group walks out right after you and you can tell she’s even more afraid than you are. So you slow down your pace to walk silently with her. She only gives you a small smile as you get to the stairs. Marvin leads the way and he lets out a huff once you’re on the first floor. It seemed like there was a different support group also getting out at the same time. The woman waved at you and scurried away. You look back at the group of people that are milling about in the hallway and that’s when you see him. Steve is saying his goodbyes to someone and you turn and leave.

“Marvin you have got to be kidding me.” You complain when he decides to sniff a fire hydrant and lift his leg to relieve himself.

“Y/N?”

You turn to see Steve walking out of the building. He has a genuine expression of surprise to see you there and then he smiles. You swallow thickly as he gets just a little bit closer. There was no way for you to deny the little, teeny tiny, itty bitty happy flip your stomach does at seeing that smile. But no you couldn’t allow yourself to feel those types of things. They only ever got you hurt.

“Hi, Steve.”

“It’s nice to see you. Were you at the meeting? I didn’t see you.”

“I was at a different meeting.”

“Oh ok.” And then you say it, the lightbulb going on above his golden hair. “The other meeting here.”

You only nod and then look away. The way people looked at you always made you mad. You didn’t need pity.

“It’s Good you’ve found a group to help. My offer still stands, if you have my number that is.” He puts his hands in his pockets.

“I do.” You murmur.

“Good. Well see you around Y/N.” He smiles again. He really needed to stop doing that around you or you would do something dumb. Like inviting him to the dog park.

Steve threw the ball much further than he intended but Marvin loved it. Your furry best friend ran at full speed almost to the other side of the park.

“Sorry, sometimes I forget I’m not throwing the shield around.” His cheeks grow pink as he takes a seat on a neck next to you. “Thanks for inviting me, by the way.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“So how have you been?”

“I’m ok, most days. How about you?” You asked as you pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

Steve took a moment to think about it. Marvin ran back to him with the ball in his mouth. Steve grabbed it and threw it again, just not as far.

“I’m managing, most days at least. I lost two of my closest friends in the blip. There are these little moments between being asleep and waking up where I’m not fully conscious and my first thought is I should check on Bucky or I should go on a run with Sam. Then it hits me that they aren’t here.” He shrugs. “Those days are the hardest.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to say sorry, you didn’t fail at stopping the blip from happening.”

“I know,” you take the ball Marvin presents to you and throw it. “But whenever I wake up and remember my ex isn’t here I’m thankful that it did happen. Why couldn’t just the bad people disappear you know?”

“Yeah, I think that would give me a great reason to retire.”

The corner of your lips curled upward and it didn’t go unnoticed by Steve.

“What’s so funny?” He said with a smile of his own.

“Nothing,” you shrug. “Just that I forget that you’re like a gazillion years old.”

“Wow. A gazillion, that’s a new one.” He chuckles as you pull out a collapsible bowl and pour some water in it for Marvin.

“At least you don’t look like it.”

“My only saving grace.” Steve replies just as his phone starts ringing. “Give me a sec. Hello? Where? No, I'll be there. See you soon. Yeah, bye.”

You were already placing the collar on Marvin when Steve turned around to look at you.

“I need to go but… only if you feel comfortable, would you text me and let me know you got home safe?”

“I will try to Remember that.” You said as you stood.

“Ok, good. See you around Y/N.” Steve waved and left the park.

“Alright boy, let’s get home.”

Marvin stood up and moved to your side, waiting until you packed the drinking bowl he had used. Then you were off.

“What’s going on Nat?” Steve asked the minute he walked through the door.

“I know you said you didn’t want to do missions but we could really use the backup.”

“Who else is on the mission?”

“Myself, Rhodey and Rocket.” Nat said while she pleaded with her eyes. “You know I wouldn’t call you but these people are in serious trouble.”

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“Good. There’s a suit for you in your room.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “We leave in thirty.”

Steve didn’t say anything, he just gave her a quick nod before heading toward what used to be his room. What once was his home now only held memories of fighting and lost friendships along with failure. He didn’t like it at all. Not the emptiness or the quiet.

When Steve got to his old room he wasn’t surprised to find it covered in a thin layer of dust. The suit Nat mentioned was lying on the bed. He made quick work of getting changed and heading to the jet. It wasn’t until he was seated next to Nat that he finally cracked a smile as his phone chimed.

Unknown number: I made it home. Thanks for coming with us to the park. Marvin is one happy boy. 😊

Steve quickly saves your number before sending a quick reply.

“Who’s that?” Nat says as she peers over his shoulder.

“No one.”

“Hm, I’ve never smiled like that at messages from no one.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Fine. I met her at one of the meetings I run.”

“Are you going to ask her out?”

“No. It’s not like that, I’m just here as a friend if she needs one.”

Nat studies Steve for a moment. They had grown close even before the team fell apart but more during those two years they were on the run. She could read him like a book and he knew it.

“But you like her.” A statement not a question.

“Yeah, she’s beautiful and seems sweet. A bit shy but I think that’s because of someone in her life.”

“What did they do?”

“I’m not sure. I think she suffered some form of abuse.”

“Hm. Well if you do decide to put yourself out there remember to be gentle with her. She probably has trust issues and rightfully so.” Nat smiles at him. “It could be good for you, to have someone outside of this mess. It would be good for her to have someone that would treat her right.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Are you two done with the heart to heart back there? We’re almost at the drop off point.” Rocket asks from the pilot’s seat.

Steve and Nat both stand and head to the back of the jet. Through the mission Steve can’t stop thinking about you.

He hopes he can see you again and show you that you can trust him.

Ch 3

Permanent taglist:

@rebekahdawkins

@cjand10

@nalny5

@Sturchling

@angywritesstuff

@seitmai

@writing-for-marvel

@goldylions

@darkhairedmenrule

@almosttoopizza

@littleseasiren

@pono-pura-vida

@talesofadragon

Series taglist

@sjsmith56

#steve rogers #captain america #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #angst with a happy ending #unbreakable series

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thesolarangel · 4 months

Text

A touch of cinnamon and spice

Chapter 4

summary: Our boys awkwardly talk about their feelings.

3.569 words · Rated: EXPLICIT · Please read the updated tags on AO3!

Notes: Sorry, I totally forgot to mention this before: Robin and Steve are roommates! Also, Steve doesn’t know what D&D is! For the sake of this fic I will ignore the fact that they normally wouldn’t have their own bathroom at their dorm room. In case you didn’t know: putting a sock on the outer doorknob of a room means “Don’t come in, we’re doing spicy stuff!”

Read on AO3 here

Chapter 4 · November 6th 1987

“Hey, I’m back!”

Jonathan shut the door and threw his backpack onto his bed.

“Hmm.” Eddie made a noise of acknowledgment but didn’t look up from his book. Not even his favorite story had managed to cheer him up, even though he had loved reading “The Hobbit” since he was a kid. Instead, he was staring at the sketch he had made of Steve, which he had kept between the pages…

“Listen, you should come to the game with me.” Jonathan sounded determined.

“Huh?” Eddie turned his head to see if Jonathan was joking. Football? Really? He wasn’t a fan of sports and Jonathan knew that.

“I just think some fresh air would be good for you… And to focus your mind on something else for a change…” Jonathan shrugged.

Eddie frowned. It hadn’t even been a whole week since the halloween party. He had a hard time shaking off the memory of the kiss. Steve’s soft lips against his own and the fireworks in his chest… And the dreadful scene that unfolded in front of him afterward.

Since then, Eddie had run into Steve a few times in the halls or the cafeteria. He had tried to talk to him, but Eddie had bolted every single time. He had taken notice of Steve’s worried face, but he wasn’t interested in what he had to say. Eddie was still hurting and it was embarrassing. He shouldn’t care so much about a guy he kissed once. So he chose to mope about it in his dorm room and avoid leaving whenever he could.

“I gotta take some pictures for the school paper”, Jonathan went on as he prepared his camera with a new film, cleaned the lens, and stuck it into his camera bag. “You could tag along?”

“Ugh, alright.” Eddie sighed as he got up from his bed and stretched his back. “I guess I don’t have anything better to do anyway.”

…

The moment he stepped outside, Eddie regretted it. He had only thrown his leather jacket over his hoodie when he had left the dorm.

It had been an especially uncomfortable November day. The weather was grim and cold, large dark gray clouds were covering the sky. He pulled the hood over his unruly hair which helped a bit to keep the wind from his neck and face.

Unsure about how this could change his already miserable mood, Eddie grumpily accompanied Jonathan to the football field.

Jonathan took his place at the side of the field, all the way down the bleachers whereas Eddie was walking up a few steps, looking for a free seat. Despite the weather, it was very crowded since it was the last game of the season.

“Hey, Eddie!” A familiar voice called his name.

Oh no.

Equipped with a dark blue coat and a burgundy scarf, Steve was sitting a few rows ahead. He was giving Eddie a small reluctant smile and offered the free seat beside him. His usually neatly styled hair was a little messy, due to the relentless fall wind.

Eddie felt his shoulders tense up.

Just be casual, Munson. Like he didn’t consume your thoughts for the last few weeks.

“Hey,” Eddie said as his cheeks blushed slightly with embarrassment. He sat down, hands in his pockets, pretending to follow the game to avoid Steve’s view. Their college’s team had just scored a touchdown and everyone was cheering around them. Colorful banners and big foam fingers flew through the air as they shouted their team’s anthem.

After a while, Steve spoke up carefully: “Um, so I wanted to ask you… why did you leave the party so suddenly?”

Here we go.

“You seemed busy flirting with someone else, so I thought it was better if I left,” Eddie answered dryly. His shoulders felt tight as he waited for the impending rejection.

“I wasn’t flirting though.”

“Huh?” Eddie raised his eyebrows at him.

“I was catching up with some friends I hadn’t seen in a while. And when you were gone, I was so confused.” Steve said softly. “I was genuinely looking forward to meeting up with you again…”

“Oh…” Something inside Eddie began to stir with hope. This was not what he had expected.

Steve awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “I, um… I thought we had a moment that night.” And now it was him blushing and not looking at Eddie. “Sparks, fireworks, whatever you wanna call it…”

Eddie stared at his feet, letting his long curls fall into his face, hopefully concealing his flushed cheeks. He had to wrap his head around what he had just heard, but Steve sounded honest. After all, he could have just ignored Eddie and moved on, but here he was, talking to him, clarifying what had happened. It had all been a big misunderstanding.

“We did have a moment…” He glanced over at Steve, lips curling into a soft smile.

“So… are we good?” Steve asked, playfully bumping his shoulder into Eddie’s.

“We’re good, Stevie.” Eddie let out a huffed laugh. He sat upright again, relief flooding his body and he felt his shoulders relaxing. “Damn, now I wish I had stayed.”

“There’s always next time if you want.” Steve gave him a charming smile and their eyes locked.

One day Eddie’s heart was gonna jump out of his chest at how beautiful Steve was. He looked at him with kind eyes and this stupid grin on his face.

What did I get myself into… he’s so pretty…

…

They watched together as Steve made a few comments about the course of the game. Eddie nodded along, pretending to understand the football lingo, but it gave him an excuse to look at Steve’s handsome face.

“So, how come Robin isn’t with you? The two of you seemed pretty inseparable.” Eddie asked, eager to find out more about Steve’s life.

“She’s currently at our dorm with her girlfriend, Nancy, the girl that you saw at the party,” Steve explained. “Also full disclosure, Nancy and I used to date in high school, but that didn’t work out, and now we’re friends.”

Their team scored another goal and the audience around them roared.

“Honestly I have no idea what’s going on down there!” Eddie chuckled and gestured towards the field.

“Then why are you still here?” Steve laughed.

“It’s the excellent company for me, Stevie” Eddie smirked.

…

Eddie felt a few raindrops fall onto his nose and cheeks and he looked up at the sky. It had started to drizzle, but the dark clouds in the distance looked very ominous.

Those who were thoughtful enough to bring umbrellas and raincoats were fine, but Eddie groaned as his jeans and hood slowly got drenched.

What started as a light shower that was easy to handle, quickly developed into massive rainfall with heavy gusts of wind. Down on the field, the players kept slipping and losing their balance on the soaked lawn due to poor visibility from the rain and wind.

At first, the announcer reported that they were keeping the game going, hoping the rain would subside soon. But with time, the injuries kept piling up and several players of each team had to be taken off the field to be treated by the paramedics. The breaking point was when one of the quarterbacks had hurt his ankle so badly, they believed it to be broken.

Once again, the announcer’s voice roared from the speakers: “That’s it, folks, we’re gonna have to pick this up another time! Please get inside safely and don’t rush!”

Steve nudged Eddie in the side: “Let’s go!”

…

Back inside, Eddie took off his hood and rubbed his hands together. He was completely drenched and freezing and Steve didn’t seem to have gotten away any better despite his winter coat.

Steve looked like a sad, wet puppy: Big eyes, hair deflated, wet strands hanging in his face, rain dripping from the tip of his nose.

“Are you okay?” Eddie chuckled, the sight that Steve presented was just too cute.

“I can’t go back to my dorm…” Steve let out a groan of frustration.

“Why not?”

“Robin has invited Nancy over to our room.” He glanced over at Eddie. “We have a deal: I watch the game, they can have some alone time…”

“Ooh.”

Steve looked at his watch. “I have like 2 more hours to kill at least”, he said with a frown.

“You can come to my dorm”, Eddie offered. “I can help you warm up”, he added with a cheeky smirk.

“You’re ridiculous”, Steve laughed but followed Eddie to his dorm room.

…

Eddie lent Steve some sweatpants, a faded Metallica shirt and showed him to the bathroom where he could get changed.

Meanwhile, he threw his own wet clothes on the radiator, slipped into comfy pajama pants, a Black Sabbath shirt, and then frantically tried to clean up the place. Once he was done, it was still a mess, but he hoped Steve wouldn’t pay much attention to it.

“Thanks for the change of clothes, I already feel so much better”, Steve said, stepping out of the bathroom. He was rubbing his hair dry with a towel which made the already very small shirt ride up at his waist and expose a gorgeous dark trail of hair from his bellybutton to the rim of the sweatpants.

“No problem…” Eddie’s voice trailed off as he glanced at Steve’s exposed skin and the way his shirt stretched over his pecs and biceps.

Steve put both hands on his hips and let his gaze wander around Eddie’s side of the room. Posters of his favorite bands, like Metallica, Judas Priest and DIO, magazine cutouts and a few concert tickets were plastered all over the wall. A large banner that said CORRODED COFFIN in black and red distorted letters had been hung in the middle. An acoustic guitar was placed next to the TV at the foot of his bed.

“Corroded Coffin is your band, right?” Steve asked and pointed to the banner.

“Yeah“, Eddie answered, delighted that he remembered the name.

“I’d love to hear you guys play someday.”

“I’m gonna convert you to a true metal fan, just so you know.”

“We’ll see about that”, Steve laughed.

Next, he wandered over to Eddie’s cluttered desk in the corner. It was covered with drawings, weirdly shaped dice, pencils and books. He picked up one of his books and raised an eyebrow.

“Dungeons and Dragons, huh? Sounds kinky…”

Eddie snorted. “Right…”

Steve sat down on Eddie’s bed, stretched out his legs and put the towel around his neck.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” Eddie asked. He was happy to see that Steve had already made himself comfortable on his bed. “Here”, he took his blanket and threw it over Steve’s legs.

“Thanks. Do you have Star Wars?”

Eddie’s face lit up, excited that Steve was a fan, too. He went over to his stack of VHS tapes next to the TV. “Sure, which one do you wanna watch?”

“The one with the teddy bears,” Steve replied with a confident grin.

“Really, Steve?” Eddie rolled his eyes at him.

“What?” Steve shrugged.

“You’re lucky, you’re cute”, Eddie commented while looking for the right tape.

The characteristic Star Wars intro blared from the speakers. The bright yellow writing on the starry sky slowly floated over the screen, introducing the premise of the story. Eddie sat down on the bed next to Steve, who, without saying a word, lifted the blanket and Eddie snuck under it with him.

Smiling to himself, Eddie felt himself buzzing with excitement on the inside. He was ready to take it slow, but he also really wanted to kiss Steve again…

Throughout the movie, Steve kept asking random questions like “Who’s that old guy again?” and commented “I have no idea what’s going on…” when the rebels around Han, Leia and Luke met up to discuss their plan to bring down the empire.

“I thought you’ve seen this before?” Eddie laughed, but Steve just shrugged.

Eddie shifted in his seat and sneakily scooted a little closer to Steve, snuggling against his side. They were practically cuddling by now and Eddie felt the energy shifting slightly as Steve leaned into the touch.

“Han Solo is so hot”, Steve remarked about thirty minutes into the movie.

“Dark cheeky rebels do it for you then, huh, Stevie?” Eddie teased.

“Maybe”, Steve whispered and suddenly there was a broad hand on Eddie’s thigh, giving it a little squeeze. His heart started beating faster. They were so close… Breathing in Steve’s wonderful sweet scent and gazing deep into his longing eyes made Eddie feel warm all over.

Steve’s gaze dropped to his lips. “Can I kiss you?”

“Next time sure is here faster than I thought”, Eddie gave him a cocky grin.

“Shut up”, Steve laughed and pulled him into a soft kiss.

The way Steve kissed him was exhilarating, Eddie felt like fireworks were bursting in his chest. He tilted his head and kissed him back impatiently while tugging on his waist to get him to come closer. Steve climbed into Eddie’s lap, both of his legs on either side of Eddie’s. He was met with Eddie’s arms wrapping around him immediately.

“For the record, it’s called Return of the Jedi...”, he mumbled between kisses.

“Hmm?”

“The movie. Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi”

Steve looked at him confused and with kiss swollen lips and flushed cheeks. “Is this your idea of making me swoon?” He asked with a huffed laugh.

Eddie grinned and sealed their mouths again. Steve’s fingers wandered into his hair and started drawing patterns into the nape of his neck, sending shivers over Eddie’s sensitive skin.

They made out with the movie still playing behind them, neither of them paying attention. When Eddie playfully bit into Steve’s bottom lip, then licked over it apologetically, Steve suddenly let out a small moan.

Eager to find out what other sweet sounds Steve would make, Eddie did it again, this time biting a little rougher. Steve let out another soft noise of pleasure.

“Eddie…”, he whispered and then his lips were on Eddie’s again, kissing him hungrily. “Eds… I really like you…” Steve said in a low voice, rolling his hips slowly in Eddie’s lap.

“Would be strange if you hated me since you’re in my lap and…” he teasingly grinded his hips upwards and Steve let out a choked whimper “...hard.”

“You don’t seem unaffected by this yourself…” Steve licked his lips and gazed at Eddie from under his long lashes. Experimentally, he drove his hips down harder.

“Stevie…” Eddie groaned and his hands moved to grip Steve’s hips, guiding his motions.

“God, you’re so hot, why are you so hot…” Steve was almost slurring his words between kisses and driving his hips down into Eddie’s crotch.

Eddie answered by pulling Steve into a filthy kiss, greedily sliding his tongue inside his mouth, earning him another moan. His hand found its way under Steve’s, well, his t-shirt and brushed over his nipple. The lewd noise that Steve made went right to Eddie’s dick. Something hungry was building up in his belly, yearning for more.

“You’re driving me insane, you know that?” Eddie growled against Steve’s hot skin while kissing down his neck, licking and biting gently. “Lie down for me, okay?”

“Okay…” Steve let Eddie maneuver him until he was lying on his back, splayed out, letting his legs fall open for Eddie to fit snugly between them. But instead, Eddie got up.

“Hang on a second…” he said, grabbed one of his socks from the floor and put it on the outer doorknob of the room.

“Woah, you have high hopes”, Steve chuckled and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well, Stevie, I’d say that’s entirely your fault, laid out like this on my bed, looking like a snack!” Eddie just shrugged and laid on top of Steve and kissed him again before he could say anything else about the sock on the door.

“I still wanted to tell you… at the party, hmm” Steve broke off mid-sentence as Eddie was attacking his neck with wet kisses. “You looked so hot… the eyeliner and no shirt, just the jacket… I couldn’t stop staring at you.”

“You’re one to talk, I wanted to rip that tiny white shirt right off… that chest hair, lemme see, please?” Eddie was tugging at his shirt and Steve sat up so Eddie could take it off.

Eddie immediately buried his face in Steve’s beautiful chest hair. Steve was all broad and hairy, whereas Eddie was more on the lean side and just sported a few hairs on his own chest. Steve’s tanned skin was peppered with moles all over his torso like little kisses and Eddie was determined to find every single one and kiss it himself.

He let out a pleased sigh and began to trace the shape of Steve’s pecs and gently took his nipple into his mouth. He flicked his tongue over it, then the other one, making Steve squirm under his touch.

“Ahh oooh, Eds!” Steve bucked up his hips.

Eddie came up again to kiss him and rubbed his crotch back against Steve’s whose hands flew to Eddie’s butt, squeezing, spurring him on to give him that delicious friction.

“Steve…” Eddie purred over him and propped himself up on his elbows, stroking with one hand through Steve’s hair that stood up messily from his forehead. “Stevie, baby” he whispered again to get his attention.

“Yeah?” Steve looked utterly ravaged, blinking up at Eddie, trying so hard to concentrate. Eddie knew he was close, he felt it and saw it in his gaze.

“As much as I’d love to mindlessly hump you, Stevie, these are my last clean pants. The ones you’re wearing and mine.”

Steve let out a small frustrated groan. “So what do you propose?”

“Good old-fashioned handjob?” Eddie suggested with a grin.

“I’m up for that” Steve smiled. “But first, take this off please, I wanna see you, too” he pulled on Eddie’s shirt and slid it over his head.

“You have more tattoos!” Steve’s eyes went wide as he traced the tattoo on Eddie’s chest with his fingers.

“I do,” Eddie chuckled. “Planning on getting more, too.”

“Hot…” Steve said in a low voice as he admired Eddie. He reached up to cup his jaw and dragged him down into another kiss.

Eddie helped Steve tug down his sweatpants and underwear as well as his own. He felt his excitement grow upon seeing Steve’s heavy cock again, this time hard and up close.

His mouth began to water. Another time maybe…

“Here, let me”, Steve offered as he wrapped his broad hand over both of their shafts. Eddie moaned loudly when Steve began to slowly pump his hand, using their precum to ease the glide.

“Steve… oh god”, Eddie rocked into his hand.

“Feels good?” Steve’s voice sounded rough and filthy. Eddie felt the blood rush through his veins.

“Yeah… you’re amazing” Eddie whimpered shakily. “I’m close, Stevie.”

Steve gently rubbed his thumb over the sensitive underside of his swollen cockhead, taking Eddie by surprise and with a sudden cry, he spilled across Steve’s stomach. Encouraged by this and Eddie’s wrecked noises, Steve moved his hand faster and soon he was shooting his own big load onto his tummy and watched it mix with Eddie’s.

Both of them were breathing heavily. Eddie bent down to give Steve a tender kiss. “I like you, too, you know… In case you didn’t know already.” Steve gave him a stunning smile, eyes gleaming, cheeks pink. Eddie peppered a few more kisses to the corner of his mouth and his cheeks.

After cleaning themselves up, they cuddled up under the blanket again. They watched the rest of the movie while laughing, kissing, enjoying each other’s company and eventually Eddie asked: “Do you wanna stay here tonight?”

Steve was sitting in his lap again, with his back to Eddie’s chest, Eddie’s arms around him. “Don’t you think Jonathan will be back at some point?”

“I’m pretty sure he’ll just go over to Argyle’s and sleep there”, Eddie replied and gave him a suggestive look. “With the sock still on the door…”

“I guess I can stay then.” Steve smiled.

“Awesome! Let’s order some food and then… How about The Lost Boys next?” Eddie grinned.

…

Jonathan had been at the photo lab after the football game had been canceled and was now making his way back to the dorm. It was already dark out and he wanted nothing more than to lie down with a good book. As he approached his dorm, he noticed a white tennis sock hanging on the doorknob and he stopped in his tracks.

He did see Eddie and Steve sitting next to each other on the bleachers and he had hoped they’d talked things through. So hopefully it was them in there… talking.

He grinned to himself and turned around.

Jonathan knocked on the door, heart racing in his chest as he clutched his bag and waited.

The door swung open and Argyle, long dark hair flowing over his shoulders, stood in the doorframe. His face lit up once he saw it was Jonathan.

“Hey!”

“Hi,” Jonathan smiled shyly. “My dorm is occupied tonight, can I stay with you?”

“Absolutely, come on in!”

tag list: @starlady66 @fenharel-enaste @queenmeriadoc @elronds-pointy-ears @hbyrde36 @hammity-hammer @corrodedbisexual @spoookysix @rozzieroos @cranberrymoons

devider by @firefly-graphics

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go1denoracle · 8 months

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Twistober Day 3: Twisted tsumerland!

I lasted about 2 days of non-Ruggie posting into this challenge. I'm proud of myself!

Warning: One Yuusona is very important to the plot! If you don’t like oc x Canon, this probably won't be your cup of tea.

"Where the hell is that stupid plushie?!"

Ruggie ran through every nearby hallway for his tiny lookalike, but he couldn't find the plush anywhere. Even with his more sensitive hearing and smell, he couldn't locate the small plushie anywhere. The sneaky little thing was no where to be found.

When Ruggie had heard his tsum had been stealing people's lunches and disappearing, he hadn't thought much of it. He had assumed that the Ruggie-tsum had been stealing food for the Leona-tsum or just using its cute looks to its advantage to get itself a meal. Either way, it wasn’t his fault if people weren't paying attention to their food and the toy ended up swiping it. He was just annoyed people were coming to him about their grievances with the tsum. It wasn't like he could control the thing.

At least, that's what he thought before it stole his food.

The little plush couldn't have gone far, it was barely the size of a kitten. How fast could that thing possibly go? It was like it disappeared into thin air. Ruggie let out a chuckle of annoyance when he noticed the faint scent of dandelions and clean fabric. There it was!

He followed the dull scent down a hallway to an empty classroom. The tsum had to have gone this way at some point. He slammed open the door to find... Fang Yu sketching on a piece of paper. With no tsum in sight.

Ruggie was confused, "What?"

Fang looked up from her book and asked sweetly, "Do you need something?"

Ruggie sniffed the air again. The scent was still strong. It had to have been here sometime. Fang raised her eyebrow at him.

Ruggie finally asked, "Have you seen my tsum anywhere?"

There was a pause of silence. Ruggie knew Fang well enough to know the silence was out of character. If Fang did or didn't know, she usually responded immediately.

"Why are you looking for it?" Fang asked, breaking the silence.

"Well, the stupid plushie stole my lunch," Ruggie huffed while crossing his arms.

Fang gave him a look of surprise, "it stole your lunch?"

"Why else would I be looking for it? Normally, I don't care what it does."

Fang looked away sheepishly for a moment before reaching down. Ruggie looked at her confused until he heard the panicking squeaking noises as she placed the now alarmed tsum on the desk in front of her. The tsum still had his lunch, so Ruggie swiped it back. But the plush wasn't focused on him.

"I'm so sorry! But I have to make sure that the bigger Ruggie didn't starve too!" Fang tried to console the tiny tsum.

The tsum looked up at Fang, absolutely betrayed. Well, as betrayed as its tiny face could be. Ruggie ate his lunch as he watched Fang try and comfort the tiny creature. As he watched the distraught plush, a thought passed his mind.

"Have you been hiding that thing whenever it's been stealing food?" Ruggie blurted out.

Fang blushed out of embarrassment before answering, "Yeah... I have."

Fang continued in vain to comfort the little tsum to no success. Ruggie laughed at her unsuccessful attempts to make the tsum happy again. In Ruggie's opinion, the tsum looked more concerned with the fact that Fang sold it out rather than the fact that it lost a meal, but Fang didn't notice it.

"How about I make a batch of donuts for you? Would that make you happy again?" Fang compromised to the tsum tsum.

The tsum seemed unhappy but willing to accept the trade when Fang cheered and kissed it on the forehead. Ruggie felt a flash of annoyance as the tsum happily bounced in Fang's hands again. Fang handed Ruggie the happily tsum and started running towards the door.

"I'll come back with donuts, I promise!" Fang yelled as she ran out the door, presumably to make the donuts.

Ruggie looked at the door Fang left through, processing what had just happened. He begrudgingly brought the tsum back to Savanaclaw. The tsum seemingly felt his ire as the two made it back to Savanaclaw because it tried squirming out of his arms. Ruggie held on tight, though, keeping it in his grip until they made it back to his dorm room so he could let the tsum run wild there. He glared at the offending ball of felt the entire time.

About 2 hours later, Fang came into his room with a box of freshly baked donuts. Ruggie scowled at the plush as Fang handed it the box. However, Fang turned her head towards him and made a shushing motion before handing him a paper bag with some donuts while the tsum was distracted. Ruggie felt much better as he watched Fang giggle over the small plush.

"I'm so glad you're not mad at me anymore," Fang happily exclaimed as she watched the tsum eat the donuts.

"Thanks, Fang," Ruggie said as he hid his donuts from the plushie's view.

"You don't have to thank me!" Fang blushed as she waved him off.

Ruggie smirked internally. Take that you stupid piece of fluff, he thought. Fang giggled, clearly happy that the little creature appreciated her baking. Then she gave it another forehead kiss as she left to study. The tsum looked smugly at him while her back was turned.

Ruggie was going to chuck the thing out the f***ing window.

#twisted wonderland #twistober2023 #twst #disney twst #twst oc #twst ruggie #ruggie bucchi #twst mc #ruggie x yuu #oc x canon #twst tsum tsum

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c0ffinshit · 2 years

Text

Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome (The Grabber x Reader)

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

A/N: hello all! i really liked how this turned out so if this does well, i’ll make this a series!

I DON’T CONDONE (Y/N)’S ACTIONS, THIS STORY IS FICTION AND SHOULD REMAIN FICTION, PLEASE DON’T DO ANYTHING IN THIS STORY IN REAL LIFE.

word count: 907

warnings: yandere-ish, stalking, (y/n) is a cop hater (as she should), a bit of bribery, mentions of past kidnappings, paparazzi by lady gaga core, albert just needs a break (he has been thru ENOUGH)

Hybristophilia (also known as Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome) a form of paraphilia (abnormal sexual desire) involving sexual attraction to people who have committed some sort of "outrage.”

You’ve been obsessed with Albert Shaw since you saw his police sketch in the newspaper. Your life stopped being yours and started being his at that moment. Anytime he kidnapped another child, you would cut out the article and pictures and tape them above your bed. You figured out who he was long before the cops could even guess. Your job was to protect him and throw off the pigs the best you could. It went as far as you getting a van that looked like his to drive around it. Every dollar and coin you got from my job would go into a jar, saving up so you could move into the house next to his. Every Saturday, you would deliver him letters that you would write yourself. And the minute you got home, you would wait patiently for a reply that would never come. Maybe he didn’t have any family members or fans that wrote him letters. Either way, you wrote to him any chance you got. When you wanted to see him, cute dates you two could go on, among…other things. You never got as far as that. As much as you wanted to cut off your hair and glue it to a sheet of paper. He’s the man of your dream; you didn’t want to scare him too bad.

You went out one night; you can’t remember when. All you can remember was he finally got caught. At first, it was a surprise when you heard the news. Your jaw dropped when you looked at the TV and saw his face all beaten and bruised. The friend who was with you didn’t know of your…obsession, for lack of a better word. So when you started crying, she was confused and tried her best to comfort you. You tried to explain through your sobbing, but she only shushed you and told you, ‘everything was okay.’ But it was the light of your life that was in jail and away from you, something you couldn’t bear. You had to see him; You didn’t care what I had to do.

You waited until you got home the next day to call the police department to see if he was taking visitors. They said no. That he wasn’t taking visitors and probably never will since he doesn’t have any family that’s alive. Your heart broke, he couldn’t see you, and you wouldn’t get any updates on where he might be or what he might be doing. Lying was the only reasonable option in this case. The following day, you woke up early and put on your nicest-looking clothes. Making sure to cover your face just enough so no one would recognize you. And you walked about five miles to the police department, where Albert was being held.

He will be so thankful to see me.

The big dark building stood tall, almost threatening. But you weren’t afraid of some men in a blue uniform. As you entered, the sound of shoes hitting the linoleum floor filled the silent room.

“Hello, officer, I’m here to see Albert Shaw,” you said, trying to barely higher a voice than your own.

“Family only, lady,” the officer had a harsh tone, like a knife.

“Oh, but I am,” you slid the cop forty dollars, “I should be on the list,”

His eyes spark, and he takes the money.

Oink Oink, you thought as he escorted you to a chair with a phone.

Now the only thing between Albert and you is glass. His face is barely visible when you finally spot him turning the corner. He looked so bruised and bloody, but his cuts were clean and healing, for the most part. Albert finally sat down and picked up the phone.

“What?” he asked, his voice sour and gravelly. Finally, his voice.

Your face lit up, and you took off your disguise, “Al, honey, It’s me,”

He looks up and groans, “Christ, (Y/N), can’t you leave me alone?”

You looked at him, your confusion running clear, “What?”

“Can’t you take a hint? Why don’t I respond to your psycho-sexual letters? I’ve through enough in the past twenty-four hours,” he puts the phone down and places his hands on his face.

You were so confused. Didn’t Albert love you?

“But Al, we are meant to be together–”

He picks up the phone again, “BUT THERE IS NO US! There has never been this ‘soulmate’ bullshit you constantly talk about in your letters. You hardly know me!”

You put the phone down, fighting back the tears. With your hand against the glass, you hoped Al’s hand would follow yours and apologize.

“Give it up (Y/N). I can’t give you what you want–”

You let your hand fall back to your side. You gingerly pick up the phone again, “Yes, you can, I know you can. I’ve seen and followed everything you’ve done. You’re a sweet guy; just give me a second chance,”

Albert places his hand in the same place your hand once was.

He lets out another heavy sigh, “If, and only if, I get out, I’ll give you that second chance,”

You wipe my eyes at the happy news, “Oh heavens, thank you, Albert, I’m so grateful–”

“But we do it on my terms, alright?”

You nod your head vigorously, “God, yes, thousand times yes!”

He gently smiles, “Now, tell me about yourself. Not what you want to do to me, tell me things about you,”

#The Grabber #the black phone #the grabber x reader #ethan hawke #ethan hawke x reader

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ramblingoak · 1 year

Text

My Husband Is Now Bones, Chapter 5: Zombie Queen

Thank you to @rabidghoul for the zombie!Terzo sketch! I love him.

~ Omega and zombie!Terzo’s story is now complete 💜 ~

Previous Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

This is for the Ghost Creative Challenge put on by @petrifyingpapas . The first week’s theme is “Resurrection”. Thank you to @kissingghouls for helping me with this story and for cheering Zerzo on.

Terzo x Omega (major character death, murder, horror themes, decapitation, blood, zombie violence/gore, once more for the people in the back: ZOMBIE VIOLENCE/GORE, ZOMBIES DOING ZOMBIE THINGS, NSFW, 18+ only MDNI)

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

“Hold still or I’ll have to start over.”

Terzo huffed, but obliged, settling back against the wall. They were still in the catacombs but Omega didn’t plan on being there much longer. Terzo was getting antsy being stuck in the dark and Omega didn’t blame him. He belonged upstairs walking the halls of his abbey. He deserved to feel the sun shining on his face.

Omega just needed to finish his damn paint first.

He smoothed the brush along the bridge of Terzo’s nose, laughing when the man’s eyes crossed trying to follow the movement. Terzo reached up and attempted to grab at the brush, clinging to Omega’s hand for a moment before bringing the back of it to his lips and mouthing along the skin there. Omega brought his other hand up and slid his fingers through Terzo’s hair, laughing when Terzo nearly purred as he scratched his nails along his scalp.

It wasn’t that long ago they were doing this very same thing in Terzo’s bed and the thought made his heart ache. He planned on devoting the rest of his life to making sure they could continue to enjoy moments like that, like this. So much had happened since that day, so much had changed. The feel of Terzo’s tongue on his skin brought his thoughts back to the present and he looked down to see a playful smile on Terzo’s face.

Well, not that much had changed.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

“Omega!”

He tensed at the voice, shushing Terzo when he started growling. He had just gotten him calmed down after all the excitement when he got back from upstairs. Terzo had been having a hard time sitting still after eating and Omega needed to get him cleaned up so he could bring him back there.

So he could bring him home.

It had taken longer than he had thought it would for Copia to come find them. Omega had expected some more of his Ghouls at first but there hadn’t been any sign of them. He liked to think that maybe they were scared after seeing what Omega had done to Aether and Swiss. At how he had made sure their blood decorated the walls of Terzo’s room.

Omega hadn’t wanted to kill them, he had considered them his friends at one point. But they had made their choice and Omega couldn’t forgive them. Terzo wouldn’t have wanted them to live anyway. The look of glee on his face when Omega had brought the parts of them he had decided to gift his Papa with had been beautiful, but it was nothing compared to the look on his face when he gave Terzo Imperator’s head.

Terzo had cooed and reached shaking hands out for it, his gloves covered in gore from Mary and the Ghouls. Omega would need to figure out how much Terzo needed to eat to sustain himself, to keep him alive. Right now he didn’t seem to want to slow down, pulling the Sister’s head into his lap and gazing into her face.

“Omega! Omega wh-what’s happening?!”

He ignored the Cardinal and knelt down in front of Terzo, Imperator’s head still in his lap. Terzo had refused to let go of it, snarling at Omega when he had tried to take it. When Terzo didn’t look at him right away he ignored the mess on his chin and gently gripped it so they could look into each other’s eyes. Terzo tried to say something so Omega shushed him and leaned forward so their foreheads met.

“This is all for you, Papa. You know that, right?” He felt Terzo’s head move up and down against him and Omega smiled. When he let go of his chin and moved away Terzo’s head tried to follow him for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something. “It’ll be ok. I’ll take care of you.”

They both turned when they heard Copia shout again, much closer than before. Omega pressed a quick kiss onto Terzo’s forehead and stood up, accidentally knocking into one of the piles of teeth Terzo had made. Once he had finished eating everyone he had started making piles of bones and such around him. He hissed at Omega and reached a hand out to scrape them back together, the nails of his gloves scratching against the stone. When Terzo pouted up at him Omega gave him a wink and headed towards the door.

“Don’t worry, Papa. I’ll bring you back some more.”

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ EPILOGUE ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

His Papa looked as handsome as ever.

Omega had gotten him into a clean set of papal robes. Ones free of blood and gore, of the smell of death. They sparkled in the moonlight streaming in through the chapel windows. His eyes sparkled too as Papa glanced around the room, but they rarely left Omega.

There weren’t many that stayed after word had gotten out about Imperator and Copia. Omega hadn’t let himself be bothered with it. He had been busy helping Terzo settle back into his room, back into his role as Papa. There had been Ghouls to banish, ones he didn’t trust to be loyal to the church. To the new Church of Emeritus.

(It wasn’t going to be called the Church of Zerzo no matter how much Cowbell begged.)

Obviously he had summoned Cowbell back. Most of the older Ghouls actually, those that were with Primo and Secondo. Special was probably the most important as according to Cowbell he had the most experience with resurrection magic. There had been a few that hadn't wanted to, a few that decided to stay behind but Omega respected their choice. He respected anyone’s choice. The atmosphere in the abbey was definitely different than before and no one needed to stay who didn’t want to be there.

Omega’s next goal was to bring Terzo’s brothers back. Cowbell thankfully seemed to know a number of occult practitioners besides Mary and he had been working to contact them. They hadn’t deserved what Imperator had done to them either and he wanted Terzo to have his family back. Cowbell was confident he’d be able to find someone to get the job done.

The Ghoul had learned not to bring up fixing Terzo though. For Omega there was nothing to fix, despite what he had demanded of Mary at first. As the days had worn on all Omega could see was his Papa, his lover, his husband. Terzo was perfect the way he was and Omega didn’t want anything to change.

Terzo reached a hand out his way, almost like he knew Omega was thinking about him. The bones that he had sewn onto the back of Terzo’s gloves clicked together as his fingers stretched out towards him. He let Papa take a hold of his hand and Omega reached up to smooth some of his hair back behind his ear.

While his white eye was as striking as always the green one had taken on an almost purple hue. Jagged red streaks ran along from the pupil across the rest of his eye. He had seen a few siblings flinch away from it but Omega thought it was beautiful. A purple eye to match his own purple gaze. It was just another sign they were meant to be together.

Terzo‘s hand squeezed his and Omega smiled at him. The necklace of bones that he had made Terzo rattled as he fidgeted in his seat. The bones and teeth of Copia and Imperator seemed like a fitting thing to use for his Papa. Omega reached over and straightened it for him, smiling as the teeth rattled together. Terzo leaned back and purred, always pleased when Omega fussed over him.

Maybe he’d make him a crown of bones next.

The chapel doors swung open then and he helped Terzo stand up to welcome their congregation. He heard Terzo start to sniff the air and growl so he shushed him, ignoring the snarl he got in return.

“You just ate before this, Papa. Remember?”

He was still getting the hang of how much Terzo needed to eat. Too much and he would get irritated easily, snapping at even Omega for the smallest thing. It was worse when he ate too little though and Cowbell was already whining about having to summon more Ghouls so soon.

When Terzo continued to growl and fidget Omega helped Terzo sit back down and then looked over to where Special was waiting and nodded. The Ghoul walked behind the pulpit and brought out what still always seemed to calm his Papa down. Omega ignored the murmurs building in the crowd and just watched as Terzo clutched Imperator’s head to his chest, smoothing a glove covered in her own bones over her hair.

He motioned for Special to get the items for communion and raised his hands towards the rest of the chapel, pleased when they all stood. Terzo’s eyes were on them as they filed into the aisle and prepared to accept His body and blood. Omega could smell the fear in the air, but if any were too scared they were welcome to leave. Cowbell had been worried someone might try to hurt Papa, but that was one thing Omega wasn’t concerned about.

He had promised Terzo that he wouldn’t leave his side. He’d promised him that he would protect him from anything and anyone. Omega meant to keep that promise no matter the cost. His Papa could also hold his own now though, better than before at least. And if anyone did try something and Omega wasn’t close enough…well...

Terzo was always hungry.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Next part in the series: A Gift Of Bones

my masterlist

my ao3

#terzomega #terzo x omega ghoul #papa emeritus iii x omega ghoul #terzo x omega #papa emeritus iii x omega #the band ghost fanfiction #omega ghoul fanfiction

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kicktwine · 1 year

Note

wanted to ask, could we get a look in to how you put together your animatics?? I've been toying with the idea of trying to make one of my own, but I've got no idea where to start

oh yeah totally

though to be fair, a HUGE chunk of my time is spent listening to about 20 seconds of a song and imagining how the images move around like a little movie, and I refine a ton of stuff in my head before starting to actually put scenes down on paper. This happens with non-music boarding too, imagining different versions of how the scenes line up with dialogue/music. So step one: put a song on repeat and daydream for at least two hours. But, if you aren’t sure how to do this, I’d suggest looking at animatics, MAP projects, AMVs, animated musicals, fight scenes, etc. what do they do that’s cool? Imitate them.

after that, I have most of the main images with some blank spots im not sure how to fill until I put them down. I make something like this and get the compositions of each main image looking more or less okay in this form. This is also the stage I figure out the in between blank spots. I try not to have weird camera moves or other storyboarding don’ts, but some storyboarding donts are completely valid to break if you know what you want aesthetically. As usual. This one was actually pretty clean, but check out all the framing edits. i always have to make the frame bigger

If you really don’t know what goes in between things, don’t be afraid to focus on some little details of the scene, pull out and show us the setting, put some flowery symbolism on screen, give us some fun little comedic anime inserts, or do what cowboy standoffs do and build tension. What we used to do was draw paws stepping across the screen or eyes blinking, lol

next comes audio sync! I like to get the timing extant on copies of these rough thumbnails before moving on. It helps my brain work through smaller more animated movements + testing if the things I came up with for the blank spots work. and also just makes it happy. And also, most importantly, it tests if the compositions work. If you can see it, the whole sequence with mom was a blank spot until I sketched it. I usually do this step in roughanimator even if i don’t finish it in roughanimator. Keeps it very rough.

after this is just a lot of polishing and layers! For lots of small animatics, I just use roughanimator and leave it like that. It’s surprisingly good for a very basic program. But, for things that need tweens or lots of camera movement, I use toon boom harmony. It’s more powerful and is actually supposed to be used for animation, which. Yknow. I do. I tried storyboard pro, it wasn’t my favorite.

Here are some, I guess, miscellaneous more technical tips for making your animatics feel nice!

If you’re going for lots of movement, try out timing it so big movements or scene transitions line up with the spikes in the audio WAV. If it doesn’t feel right, move it a few frames BEFORE the spike/audio beat. Your brain usually wants to see something move barely before it hears it - this works for dialogue especially. BUT! Don’t feel like you have to do this for every beat. unless you want to feel like Wes Anderson, which you can do and I will not stop you.

If you’re going for something slower with not that much movement, try motion tweening! or adjusting something very slowly so we don’t linger on one still image for forever.

you don’t need crazy camera angles for everything, but put a few in there for spice. This all depends on your mood you want to cultivate. Slow = flatter, spacious, details; fast = lots of moves, weird angles, perspective; disorienting = slow/jerky weird angles etc etc. the camera has emotions built into it. Because the camera is you! surprise!

watch storyboarding tutorials. lots of people zoom in too much when they draw and I am not excluded. Also, keep in mind the eyesight rule. It’s hard for me to explain concisely but… you as the artist are always leading the viewers eye somewhere, with every shot you make. Don’t make them dizzy by having the center of attention jump around to six different spots for six shots straight - if you find yourself unhappy with a sequence, especially a fast one, see if your line of sight is going all over the place and try moving the subject of a shot or two somewhere else or having them move/gesture towards the new shot’s focal point so the viewers eye moves there naturally. I’m actually not great at doing this when words/lyrics are involved, pmv makers have my respect.

contrast is your friend. If you want to emphasize a big fast move or big bright image, put little slow moves or simple images right before/after it. and vice versa! this counts for camera too!

easy camera shakes are just 3-4 frames of cam down/up/down less/up less, a blank tween or two (easing back into normal), and then a key for your desired normal camera location. Or left/right, whichever.

your brain needs about six frames to fully register an object as being an object. If you want someone to see and really See it, rather than just get a glimpse of it and go "What was that!" It needs more than six frames.

don’t be afraid to experiment!!!!!! And don’t get overwhelmed! Everything I just described I MOSTLY do off instinct, which you’ll get a sense for after you make one. Or like…. Ten. Does it feel good in your heart? Then that’s what’s important. Find an idea you want to make move, figure out your limits (programs, attention span, drawing capability, make sure not to commit to a minute long amv if you dont KNOW you wanna do a minute long amv), and plan around that. When I was A Child, people on youtube were just making like three amvs per second and cringe hadn’t been invented yet so they were all mostly untrained unpolished and so so important and based to me. Stop thinking so hard about it. You gotta get that animatic out there into the world or it’ll start fermenting in your brain and make you sick. So what if it doesn’t turn out exactly the way you imagined it? You’ll have another idea tomorrow. And if it matters that much, you can always do it again. Go make! Good luck!

#long post #haha sorry! That turned into more of a tutorial which I hope is what you wanted #i dont know how to do edits; honestly; but thats not what you asked. a very cool form of video making! no clue how to do it well #ask #anon #hmm for the eyesight rule #dont misunderstand -- dialogue over the shoulder shot a/ shot b style are not 'jumping around'#i mean like something moves on the LEFT and then the next shot has something spinning down from the TOP to the BOTTOM and then the next #you have something on the LEFT again moving UP #yknow?#idk if hearing gifs counts as synesthesia but silent moving things make noise in my head #so it kinda works vice versa. sometimes noise can make moves

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hausofmamadas · 8 months

Text

| Tu cómplice |

⁂

Pairing: Ismael “El Mayo” Zambada x Benjamín Arellano Félix

For @narcosfandomdiscord NarcOctober Fanworks collection [October 1 - Day of Firsts]

Word count: ≈ 2.8K

TWs: Canon-consistent violence? Much angst but like in the supes casual way I imagine Mayo does..?

Just the two of them seated at the wrought iron table in the backyard, up till dawn, smoking and talking. It felt quite the honor just to see the man laugh. Ngl guys, this is Basically just Mayo internally but actively pining for Mín? for like kinda no reason?? while he’s negotiating with Dina because Mín’s gone into hiding after the assassination of Cardinal Juan Posadas Ocampo. Idk this is literally just 3k words of nonsense and insanity. It’s legitimately one of the most aimless and ooc things I’ve ever written sksks but hey!! it exists now..?

⁂

The ornate, gilded door knocker felt heavy between his fingertips as he rapped a few times and waited, stubbing out his cigarette in the open mouth of one of the lion statues placed on either side of the stairway. He chuckled to himself. If it wasn’t an ashtray before, it was one now. To him it looked like one anyway. The mansion’s pretentious decor always screamed “New Money” to him, no matter how hard the Arellanos tried to bury Sinaloa in their past.

By his count, Mayo had only ever been to Arellano house three times. Once by invitation, another by accident, and a third - the last - by mistake. A mistake he couldn’t muster the good sense to regret no matter how hard he tried.

It never pays to fall for a family man, isn’t that what the girls say? Certainly the ones he’d shared a few fleeting nights with between the sheets, a wad of folded bills on the nightstand, couple packs of cigarettes, and some pillow talk that always told some tale of woe about falling for a family man. But is that what happened? Had he fallen? Or was he just at sea like always? Either way, it made for no less than an interesting ride.

The relief-distorted disappointment when it was Pancho who answered the door should’ve told him something, even if he didn’t care to pay it much mind just now. A matter for tomorrow. Except that’s what he’d told himself the whole time. Shit, that’s how he got into this mess. Surely there’d come a point when tomorrow was today, no?

Pancho smiled, “Qué húbole, compa?” and pulled Mayo in, clapping his back twice in a way that was warm and sincere as much as it was overwhelming. But Pancho was good people. He always liked Pancho. Shit, who didn’t like Pancho.

“Nada mucho, nada más,” Mayo winked, tipping his hat as he crossed the threshold into the foyer of the Arellano mansion.

He smirked to himself at the same private joke he had every time he’d set foot in this house: the place’s grandiosity might be as intimidating as it was meant to be if it weren’t so fucking cartoonish. But he supposed that’s what happened when you let an overgrown manchild, dressed head-to-toe in Versace, stick his gold-dipped cuerno de chiva against the decorator’s temple and threaten to blow them away into semi-automatic oblivion, just for a discount on silk drapes from Rome or wherever-the-fuck.

Mayo's eyes stung a bit, hit with the phantom smell of the cigar smoke that came tumbling out of Benjamín’s mouth when he’d laughed himself nearly to tears telling Mayo that story. It'd been just the two of them seated at the wrought iron table in the backyard, up 'til dawn, smoking and talking. It felt quite the honor just to see the man laugh. He got the feeling Mín didn’t laugh much. That was the second time Mayo had been here.

He shook his head, the image etch-A-sketched away like nothing and followed Pancho through the foyer to the dining room and then the living room. Or rather, one of the living rooms. The house smelled so strongly of floral-scented candles and potpourri, he worried he might get a headache sitting in here for too long. They must’ve just had the place cleaned. It bothered him that he even noticed and it especially bothered him why. That it was because there was no hint of that familiar, faint musk that should’ve been there, expensive without trying too hard, that seemed to trail Mín along with a perpetual cloud of neurotic discontent, everywhere he went.

Even from the beginning Mayo liked that about him. The discontent he wore right on his sleeve. He’d noted it when they’d first met at some meat market in Mazátlan, right around the time he first linked up with the Sinaloa crew, just before they arrested Miguel and the whole Federation got dissolved. Just in Mín's discontent, his raw, kinetic ambition, Mayo saw something of himself, even if the two fo them strove for very different things. He used to think, what a strange little something you are, Benjamín Arellano Félix, the way one would think fondly of a pet they had growing up. He found himself wishing now that Mín felt just a pet to him.

But they belonged to each other in a new way now. Darker, tenuous, and confounding in just exactly how straightforward it was. No implications, no questions to be asked. It said nothing about either of them except that they belonged, if only for and evening. Or the amount of time it takes to smoke a full Montecristo and down a stiff drink of scotch.

He turned to the fish tank and stared at his warped reflection, saying to no one in particular, “Things are changing real fast, huh? The army in Tijuana fucking shit up. Coming after your family, no less. Now Benjamín’s gone. Fucking mess, huh?”

He felt it coming. This meeting. Depending on the outcome, it might signify a breaking point and he’d have to choose between what is and what should never be. The Arellanos got caught flying far too close to the sun and they knew it now. (And everyone wondered why he preferred boats.) It’s what set Mín on the lam, no telling how long he would be out there. Floating around wherever he was. Away.

Shaking his head, “Just hoping it all blows over and Benjamín can come back home,” Pancho spilled a glass of some brown liquor, as he set it down on the beverage cart in front of Mayo.

Amused, Mayo tried mopping it with only his fingers until he gave up, taking a sip. There was still plenty to drink, since Pancho had filled it nearly to the brim, almost as high as his own. Suddenly, it made sense why Pancho wasn’t in charge of the family business despite being the oldest. Hombre couldn’t bluff for shit.

Mayo took the seat by the beverage cart, as Pancho practically melted back onto the giant couch across from him. Doing his best to affect it, almost like an afterthought, Mayo leaned back in the chair and said, “Send him my best, yeah?” He took out a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pockets, giving them a little jiggle and raising his eyebrows.

Pancho got what he was asking but Dina startled him with an answer before Pancho got the chance. She spoke from behind them, standing at a large window, “Of course, please. Make yourself at home.” She waved her own lit cigarette as if to hammer the point home. “I do it in here all the time. Drives mamá mad. The smell gets in the drapes, she says.”

How long had she been standing there? Her beige suit blended so well with the drapes she spoke about with such indifference. Mayo half wondered if it was some kind of business tactic, camouflaging with the furniture. Better to hear all chisme whispered in these halls by house staff or other scheming subordinates a quien no le gustaba tener una jefa. In truth, he didn’t much like it either. But he hadn’t figured out if it was just because she was a woman or because of the kind of woman she was. He never had much patience for anyone with a chip on their shoulder.

Though he’d certainly made an exception for Mín who’d carted around a chip so heavy, it was a wonder he never tipped over. So, maybe it was the woman thing. Did it much matter? Not really cuando sabía que ella había planeado quitarle sus huevos. All these months later, and that cool twenty mil still burned a hole in their coffers and there was no making eyes at Dina to make it all go away, least of all when they were hurting for the cash. Not that he wouldn’t try. That is after all how he and Benjamín started off doing ... Well, whatever the fuck they did.

He thought of Dina’s wedding, how light and alive, self-assured Benjamín was. In his element. A new look he wore so well that, in Mayo’s estimation, he didn’t get to enjoy for long enough. Now look where they all were.

“So look, Pancho,” he brushed Dina off because if her goal was to blend in with it, well, he was happy to treat her like the furniture. “Amado’s expanded operations. Taken over the port in Peñasco, made it hard for my boats to unload. I was hoping to redirect them through San Ysidro, and not pass them through Tijuana.”

“That would put all your business in our plaza, wouldn’t it?”

The smirk of a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar broke across Mayo's face and he dragged on his cigarette, nodding in the affirmative.

“And yet, you refuse to join our organization?”

He offered the answer that seemed to satisfy anyone who challenged his go-it-alone approach. It satisfied Mín well enough when he'd approached Mayo at the wedding. “Es qué, a mí me gusta ser mi propio patrón.”

Nothing less than the truth. In an industry of professional con artists, backstabbers, hustlers, and murderers, maybe like her brother, she’d appreciate it.

“Yes, so you’ve said.” She didn’t.

And she still hadn’t turned around to face them. For people so concerned with blending into high society, the Arellanos weren’t the most well-mannered. Mayo’s working-class manner of dress might, to the untrained eye, indicate that manners weren’t something he cared about. But he did. Even in his blackest moments, twisting his knife in someone’s gut or getting ready to light them on fire, he couldn’t much find a reason not to be at least cordial.

Fighting for a lifeline, he glanced at Pancho who almost looked like he was trying to become one with the couch, drink limp in his hand, as he stared at the All-Knowing Queen in white.

She finally turned to grace them with her full attention, gliding over and resting her hands on the back of the empty couch next to him. “You owe us twenty million dollars. What’s your plan to repay us?”

Back in the days when Miguel held court and favored the Sinaloa faction at the expense of his own family, dicking the Arellanos around as though the petulant kids he’d watched grow up would remain petulant kids forever, Mayo remembered thinking that Mín’s attempts at diplomacy weren’t well-earned by their uncle. And he’d told Mín as much. Even Dina agreed at the time.

But all these years later, with Dina the sharp tip of the lethal spear that was now the Arellano Félix Organization, Mayo wondered if they couldn’t do with some of Benjamín’s trademark diplomacy. Mín liked people. He knew how to talk to them. Dina was trickier to deal with. Though savvy like her brother, she was nothing but prickly, sharp edges. Good for dealing what needed to be dealt to their enemies. Not much for making friends.

Mayo tried his hand at diplomacy, “Money in shrimping, eh … moves slower than I’d like,” but ire crept in anyway when the absence of his— his— of Benjamín was screaming at him. “Benjamín understands that. I pay as it comes.”

Understands, yes. Present tense. He was gone, not dead and even with Dina in charge, he still must’ve been keeping tabs from somewhere. She couldn’t have the final word here. Not really.

Unwilling to follow his lead in diplomacy, she shot back. “How much have you got?”

“Here with me?” Now he was annoyed.

And that was met with a haughty huff from her, along with a scorn-filled smirk, so acrid and bitter he nearly tasted it in the air between them. She had him where she wanted him and it twisted his gut, knowing where this was about to go.

“You aren’t moving anything through this plaza until the tax is paid.”

It was over already and he knew it. That didn’t stop him from trying one final time, “Qué dice, Pancho? Esa es la última palabra de la familia?” like it might speak Benjamín into their living room.

Of course, when it didn’t work, the thought of Mín, knowing what he’d have to resort to next, only served to make his stomach churn more. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. What’s that thing they say about purple elephants? Because before the first don’t, the image of Benjamín’s gentle brown eyes in the moonlit backyard, full of that kinetic ambition, not for success but for something else —belonging— flooded Mayo. The third time he’d been here.

᪣

It had only been a few months since the wedding. A celebration at Roxanne’s gone awry and he’d had to bring Ramón home before he tore the club apart, going after Chapo for some snide comment about what they all knew happened to Rayo. The bad blood between the Arellanos and the Sinaloa crew was so long standing without erupting into an all-out war, it seemed to make sense at the time to at least attempt to avoid tipping it over the edge. In hindsight, the whole shitshow was gripped with such inevitability, it seemed more like going against the will of the gods, now that he thought about it. But you only know what you know when you know it. So, he done the sensible thing, intervened before things got ugly, agreeing against his better judgment to remove Ramón from the equation, by driving the rowdy motherfucker home while he sat in the passenger's seat of his pickup, three sheets to the wind, sprawled out, passed out, and snoring. Despite the fact he’d had no love para el pinshe huevón, there was love in his heart somewhere. And so it was easy to say, “yes” after shucking Ramón off his shoulder onto one of their house staff's, when Mín offered him a cigar and a drink. An opportunity for another of their little chats that they’d come to enjoy whenever they crossed paths. Though Mayo had noticed, in the distinct lack of one, every one of those times happened to be under the unconscious supervision of a crowd. So that when Benjamín complimented him on his business savvy, and said things like, “Fuck, man. You’re better than that,” the grin that spread across his face never got as wide as it wanted to be. They never stood as close as they’d wanted to. They never talked for as long as they wanted to. It was for the best. Because without the safety net of nosy onlookers, talking about life, growing up in Sinaloa, the incessant hustle, the never ending grind to the top, commiserating over the absurdity of this business they’d both come up in, ambition, what all of it even meant? Could they do something else? Should they do something else? Was it really worth it?— they both folded like a pair of cheap suits. And so he didn’t remove it, when Mín’s hand found itself on top of his. The contrast of how smooth, almost manicured it was compared his own, weather-worn, brought to light disparities that extended far beyond the physical and yet didn’t make a bit of difference. The words tumbled from Mín’s lips suddenly. “You know ... I do love my wife.” And that trademark cloud of anxiety that made him think too much came swept over them with a fury. Not long for this world, Mayo waved it away. “I know you do.” “You do?” It was almost funny. Despite the evident affinity they shared in these little chats, Mín’s shock reminded him just how little they really knew each other. How much of a gamble he’d just taken. “You know that I know that this,” Mayo lifted their hands, fingers interlaced together, and placed his lips against one of Mín’s knuckles, “and that,” then bobbed his head toward the house, “can be different but true, at the same time.”

᪣

He sighed and swallowed the memory hard.

“‘Ta bueno, ‘ta bueno,” nodding vigorously because he saw the whole fucking thing coming before he’d set foot in the house. Standing up and putting his hat back on, he muttered cooly, “Well, I won’t take up any more of your time.”

Striding toward the fish tank, he thought of Mín again and turned back around. He met Dina’s eyes in a challenge, you did this but simply tipped his hat, “Patrona,” a gesture of faux respect she was undoubtedly smart enough and petty enough to see for what it was.

On his way out of the house, he was already hard at work, scouring his brain. What was the last number that he had for Amado? Fuck, that shit was months ago. He'd probably have a new one. Oh, well. It'd be worth it. Or ... would it? Well frankly, if he was really honest with himself, he'd probably stopped giving a shit the second the words, "make yourself at home" came out of her mouth.

Stepping out into the midday sun at the top of the steps leading down to the driveway, he caught the carcass of his cigarette laying in the lion's mouth out of the corner of his eye.

Dina would regret this and probably never even know why.

But Benjamín would.

En ese mundo de complicidades y traiciones, un día tu mejor enemigo es tu cómplice y al otro se convierte en tu peor enemigo.

═

taglist: @narcosfandomdiscord @ashlingnarcos @narcolini @drabbles-mc

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slashersgirlypop · 1 year

Text

Grilled Cheese Chapter 13.

TW: NON-CON KISSING

(September 3rd, 1978)

I groaned, rolling onto my side, away from the blinding ray of sunlight that shone on my eyes. My back ached from whatever the hell Michael laid me on. I knew we were no longer driving, but I didn’t know where we were.

I opened my eyes, sitting up and rubbing my neck. I was in a dirty, bare-walled room with stains on the carpet. There was a small, smashed window, the glass scattered on the ground beneath it. On the ground next to me was a shattered mirror, with bits of my reflection along the floor, a constellation of me. What was the white thing on my forehead?

I reached up and touching the side of my head where it was aching. My fingers brushed along gauze. Taking one of the pieces of glass, I investigated my reflection. There was gauze wrapped around my head clumsily, but with intent. There was a small dark stain on the side of my head, probably from where Michael smashed my head against my headboard. I gently lifted the gauze, grimacing at the wound. It didn’t look too deep, but it was a head wound so it seemed worse than it probably was.

Getting up, slightly wobbly, I made my way to the door on the other side of the room. I glanced back at the makeshift bed I was on. It seemed like a sleeping bag, well, my sleeping bag. Michael must have packed it. I noticed another sleeping bag, maybe a few feet away from mine. Maybe someone left it?

I slowly opened the door, stepping out into the next room. I think I was in some abandoned mobile home. It looked like someone was in a rush to leave, and whoever used to live here had problems. By that, I mean the various amounts of cheap beer bottles scattered along the hallway.

Stepping into the front room, I saw Michael. He was sitting on a broken sofa that was tilted on its side.

“Hi,” I croaked out, my throat dry from lack of water.

“What time is it, Mikey?” He pointed to a clock leaning against the wall. 2:45.

“How long are we going to stay here, uh, wherever here is?” He didn’t respond, only returning his attention back to the sketch book he had in his lap.

“Okay…Do you still have whatever you wrapped my head in so I can maybe clean the wound?” I asked. He pointed to the bag on the floor.

Retrieving the first aid kit, I went to the bathroom and tried to find a reasonably clean spot on the messy and stained counter.

I hissed as I felt the alcohol sting my skin, gently cleaning the wound. I was surprised Michael had bandaged my head, although it was a sloppy job. It’s the thought that counts I suppose, though.

I gently applied fresh gauze, content with the job I did. I mean, it wasn’t nurse-level good, but when you are virtually alone most of your life, you learn how to treat a wound decently.

As I cleaned my wound on my head, I thought back on the strange and crazy turn of events that led to this moment. It’s been, what, four days since Michael has entered my life? He entered my home one night, demanded I prepare him food, choked me, spanked me, killed my assistant manager in my own fucking home, and then knocked me out and took me God knows where. To top it all off, despite my dizzy head, probably from the wound he gave me, I am relatively calm about the whole situation.

Shouldn’t I be screaming? Begging, pleading for my release? Saying I won’t tell a soul if he lets me go?

Why am I taking this whole situation so well?

“Mra?” I softly smiled as I finished the knot on the freshly applied gauze wrapped around my head, feeling Mrs. Petunia brush softly against my leg.

I guess having something that provides some sort of comfort does keep me more grounded and less likely to act irrationally. Okay, aside from my escape attempts which have ended with me being choked or spanked cruelly.

Exiting the bathroom, I walked back into the living room. Michael was in his same position, only moving to draw more to…whatever was on his sketchbook. Jesus, was that a picture of him stabbing some poor blonde girl?

“Um, so, what now?” He paused his drawing, slowly looking up at me.

“I mean, I’m surprised I’m taking this whole situation well right now, but what will happen from this point on? Stay here forever? Because if it is, I need some cleaning supplies because this looks like some, uh, drug…place,” I finished weakly, looking at the several grossly colored stains along the wall along with the cheap empty beer cans around the room. Why did it smell like…a skunky smell, I wanna say?

He said nothing, only nodded before drawing his attention back to his sketchbook. I sighed, crossing my arms. I jumped, feeling Mrs. Petunia begin to climb up my pant legs and then up my side, perching herself on my shoulders. She began to purr in my ear, content. I reached up and stroked her, my attention still on the silent masked killer who was using crayons to graphically depict the blood spilling out of whoever that poor lady was.

“Mikey, I’m going to be honest with you here. Why me? What’s so important about me that you couldn’t just, I don’t know, leave me at my house, at least tied up so I couldn’t escape to get help and you could get away?” He once again paused. He looked up at the wall, as if pondering his words, or something like that.

It’s really hard to tell what he’s thinking since he always has that damn rubber latex whatever on.

Finally, he flipped to a new page of his sketchbook and his hand flew across the page, writing something.

He got up once he was finished and made his way over to me. As he got closer, Mrs. Petunia grunted and hopped off my shoulder. Soon, he stood right in front of me, making me feeling immensely small and weak compared to his towering and built figure.

He handed me the paper, and I took it.

“Becuse you are m ine,” Is what was messily written on the paper.

“‘You are mine?’ Mikey, what does that even m-“ He grabbed the back of my throat and pulled me close, crouching slightly to my level. The nose of the mask briefly rubbed against mine before he pressed the fake lips against mine. Shock ran through my veins along with fear. It was over as soon as it started, and he walked back to his seat, plopping down on the sofa. It creaked under his form as I stood there frozen.

Well, this just got more complicated than I thought. Fuck.

~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~

WHAT IS UP MY BITCHES????? Yeah, things are now gonna move more into the Michael being his more bad side!!! I'm sorry it took so fuckin long to update. I've had a mental breakdown, got a new job being a waitress, been sick, and am slowly losing some of my best friends. Oh yeah, and I've officially entered the stage of having alllllll level 3000 courses at uni. so yeah. next chapter might be out next weekend. Fairwell, my fellow slasher sluts ;-3

#halloween 1978 #michael myers #slasher #yandere michael myers #yandere michael myers x reader #hostage reader #tw: noncon #captive reader

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just-dreaming-marvel · 1 year

Text

The Truth About Love ~ 16

THE TRUTH ABOUT LOVE MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,560ish

Summary: You and Steve’s relationship grows. Steve is worried about an upcoming event.

Notes: Sorry it’s taken me so long to update!

The next semester started and you and Steve were getting on better terms. The two of you made sure to go on weekly dates to help you. You were still working the two jobs, just fewer hours at both of them since this semester and your next semester was taken care of.

You were back to studying in Steve’s studio, which made Steve incredibly happy. He made sure though to respect your boundaries when it came to being physical with you and the money aspect. Steve still visited you at your places of work, doing his own homework or sketching until your shift was over and then either taking you home or to the studio.

Currently, you were sitting on the floor of the studio, with your back against the windows. A textbook lay in your lap with your laptop open beside you. Steve was supposed to be working on his latest art project, across the room, but had been staring at you for the last twenty minutes. And you noticed.

“Steve,” you called, not even looking up from what you were doing. “Why don’t you try and get your own work done?”

“Sorry, it’s just so hard when you're across the room from me,” he responded.

You looked up. “Should I leave then? Allow you to get some work done?”

Steve shook his head as he stood up and walked over. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“But I’m a distraction,” you teased.

Steve crouched down in front of you. “A very welcome one.” He leaned in and brushed his lips over yours.

“Yeah, well, you’re not.” You giggled as Steve’s lip formed into a pout. “I’m kidding, Steve.” You gave his lips a peck. “I do have to get this done tonight though.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “One more kiss?”

You smiled as you kissed him. Steve was quick to steal another kiss before you pushed him away with a giggle. He tried his best to look like a hurt puppy as he sulked back over to his spot. You bit your lip as you watched him, snapping your eyes back to your book when Steve turned to sit. He smirked as he noticed you had been staring. He couldn’t stop glancing at you and thinking about how lucky he was to have you in his life.

~~~

You could tell that something was bothering Steve from the moment he stepped into the coffee shop. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes and his wave wasn’t as sure as it usually was. Sadly, you couldn’t go and figure out what was wrong because there was a constant stream of customers. You kept looking over to check on Steve. You were easily able to tell that Steve was too distracted to even sketch.

Unfortunately, there were customers in there up until closing time. So while you finished with them, Steve began cleaning up. Once the customers were gone and the door was locked, you studied Steve as he mindlessly went about cleaning. You sighed as you headed for him. He was so in his own head that he didn’t notice you coming and even jumped when your hand grazed his back.

“Sorry,” he quickly apologized before you could. He couldn’t even look you in the eye, seemingly in a rush to get back to work.

“Steve,” you called, only to go ignored. You went over to him again, this time getting in front of him. “Steve, what’s going on? Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened,” he shook his head. “Everything’s good.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He sighed. “Can we just finish cleaning up first? Then we can talk.”

You waited a moment before nodding. Getting back to work, you made sure to work as fast as you could. You were growing concerned over what Steve could possibly be so worried about. Once the store was cleaned and locked up, Steve took your hand and led you to the truck. He helped you in quietly before going around to the driver’s side. Steve began driving to the studio in silence.

“Steve,” you spoke softly, “you’re kinda scaring me.”

He was quick to grab your hand and hold it. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m really not meaning to… It’s honestly so stupid. I shouldn’t be as worried as I am—“

You stopped him by giving his hand a squeeze. “What’s up?”

He let out a long exhale, running through his mind what he was worried about. “Well, I— There’s— I—“

“Steve, just breathe. It’s just me.”

“Right, right.” He nodded. “But I guess that’s what I’m worried about… you.”

“Why?”

“Every year, Stark Industries hosts a gala. It’s really a way to show off how well the company is doing though the company uses it as a charity fundraiser.”

“What does this gala have to do with me?”

“Well, as a stakeholder in Stark Industries and Howard Stark’s stepson, I am required to go. And, honestly, I don’t want to go without you by my side.”

“I don’t see what the problem is. Of course, I’d go with you.”

Steve set you a smile and a slight squeeze to your hand as he continued to drive. “Thank you, though that’s not the problem.”

“What is?”

He sighed. “Tony. Tony’s the problem. He’s made comments about you and I absolutely hate them. I haven’t stood for them and I can only imagine what comments he’ll make there. I don’t want you to go through that. You don’t deserve that.” You nodded, taking in the information. “I’ve been spending the whole day thinking about what to do. I’m really close to skipping it because I don’t what to drag you through all that but I know Ma will be there and I’m expected to be there. And it will be the first one without Howard there and—“

“Steve, I’ll go with you. It sounds like it’s not going to be an easy night and I want to help you.”

He parked the truck in the parking garage and turned the best he could to face you. “You really don’t have to.”

“I want to.” You moved to face him better and leaned over to him. “I really do.” You pressed a kiss to his lips.

“You constantly amaze me… I’m too lucky to have you in my life.”

“I’m going to need your help, I don’t know what’s appropriate to wear to a gala. I don’t think I have anything that’s fancy enough in my closet.”

“Y/N, you could come in your pjs and would still be the most beautiful woman there.” He leaned in to give you a kiss this time. “Please don’t worry about it.” He pecked your lips again. “Let’s go upstairs and get some work done. I know you have a few big assignments to do.”

~~~

“Nat?” You called for your roomie as you entered the apartment living room.

“Yes?” She hummed as she flipped through a magazine while lounging on the couch.

“Have you ever been to a gala?”

She lowered her magazine to look at you. “Did Steve invite you to the Stark Industries Charity Gala?”

You nodded. “Yeah… and I don’t think I have anything appropriate in my closet. Steve said that I shouldn’t worry about it, but I am. I have some money that I can buy I new dress but I still don’t know if it will be good enough.”

“Y/N, you could go to the Gala in rags and Steve would think you’re the most beautiful person ever. If you feel like you need a new dress, then let’s go dress shopping.”

~~~

Upon arriving at the first store, you told Natasha your budget and let her pick the dresses you were to try on. You tried on only two dresses at that store, with neither of them winning you over. The next three stores were similar experiences. You wanted to call it a day, but Natasha convinced you to go to one more store. That’s where you found it, your perfect dress. It was the right color, cut, everything. It even was in your budget.

“You’re gorgeous, Y/N,” Natasha complimented as you studied yourself in the mirror. “Steve is going to lose it.”

“Do you think it’s good enough?” You questioned. “I don’t know if it’s fancy enough.”

“It’s perfect.” You made eye contact with Natasha in the mirror. “Trust me.”

~~~

The day of the Gala came quicker than you would have hoped. Thankfully, Natasha was there to help you get ready. You were growing nervous about the whole thing, feeling kind of sick because of it. When Steve knocked on the door, you forced yourself to inhale and exhale long and slow to try and calm yourself before you opened the door.

Steve stopped breathing the moment he saw you. His eyes slowly took in every inch of you, engraving it into his memory.

“Wow,” he breathed out. “You’re gorgeous.”

Your skin heated up and you looked away. “Are you sure?” You questioned.

“Y/N,” Steve stepped closer and gently prompted you to look at him as he grabbed your hands, “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Thank you, Steve.”

He came in for a sweet kiss. “You’re welcome.” He kissed you again.

“We should probably get going.”

Steve hummed, kissing you for a third time. “Okay. Let’s go.”

next chapter >

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sunnyx07 · 2 years

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''I'm proud of you kiddo'' Dad! Tony stark x !kid Reader

Request?: No Summery: You have always have been trying to impress your dad, even though he always been proud of you, you want to work hard. So when you finally had your diploma in your hand, he was the proudest dad in the world. Genre: Fluff, No Angst, just fluff!

A/N: Hi guys, first fic, Hope you guys like it, Cause I'm totally into the father figure Tony stark.

The end of the school year was getting closer by the day, You’ve been studying like crazy for your finals determining if you would graduate from high school or not. It’s been some crazy years, since the avengers began saving the world, more threats were popping up everywhere and in All honesty, you have the most experience in it. Some people say you're lucky, some people just want you dead.

Those are some things you deal with when you are born in the stark family.

Being the kid of the Iron man, Tony stark, has some Ups but also downs. First off, he’s always so busy, saving the world and tinkering for new gadgets for his own Iron man suit, he spends hours down in the lab that you have to bring his food and water down, before Pepper would find out and she would scold him for being so irresponsible for his health.

Every time you do bring some food, He thanks you by ruffling your hair and Telling you something about the new gadget he’s making. You smile in yourself at the memory, when he actually allowed you to make your own suit with him, customised to your liking.

‘’Only use it when you have no choice and when you are in actual danger.’’ He told you, as you nodded, understanding why after the whole event of Ultron Taking over the Iron man suits.

Even if he’s not the most perfect dad, he is your’s and you love him with all your heart. That’s why you have been a hard worker your entire life. They had expectations for you, most of the criticism was from the media, but you honestly didn’t care about all that, all you cared about, was the opinion of your dad, who has always been there since you’ve been born into the family.

And when the finals were starting, You were more than ready to go head on into these tests, Your Diploma so close into your reach it wasn’t funny. Tony did worry a bit, when he saw the patterns of hard work he created and inherited from his side. You were locking yourself in your room, studying 24/7 about the subjects you had to take, Like you, he eventually brought you food, just like how you would do it to him.

‘’You Okay Kiddo?’’ He asked you, as he tried to sound as smug as he could, but you were you dad’s kid, you knew better. You looked over at him as you could see him slightly worried. “Yeah dad, Just studying for finals, I’m almost done for the day, Thank you for the food.’’ You smiled at him, as he just ruffled your hair.

“Alright Kid, After studying wanna help me with an upgrade on your suit? I think I have some few ideas and you left your sketches around my lab, I just took a look and liked some ideas so I wanna put it on your suit.’’ He chuckled, seeing you get excited by it.

‘’Okay! Coming!’’ You smiled, cleaning the place up as you guys worked for the rest of the day on your suit.

And now,

Now you were in the crowd, waiting for your name to be called, To get that Diploma in your hand.

‘’Y/n Stark’’ The principal called out

You smiled widely, as you walked up to the stage, everyone clapping as you waved to the audience. Some press were taking Photo’s of you, as you shook the teachers hand. You looked over at the crowd, as one person stood out of the crowd.

Your smile went wider as you saw your dad in the crowd, and laughed slightly as you could see some small tears in his eyes. You signed your diploma, grabbed it gently out of the principals hand and walked off towards your family, as you hugged your dad tight.

He kissed your forehead and smiled at you. “I’m proud of you kiddo’’

And at that moment, You know you will always have your dad, It was You two against the world.

#Tony stark #stark reader #tony stark x stark!reader #marvel #mcu #stark teenager #ask box is open for anything #dad tony stark #marvel image #dad!tony stark #avengers x reader #Tony stark image #fluff #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #avengers #Tony stark fic #Tony stark x reader #marvel mcu

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irenadel · 1 year

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@hom3land3r

Her antidepressant dose was increased and she had to wear a cervical collar for a month. They had asked her to wear a sling for her upper arm, but she had a long drive ahead and work to do. She had tried to go under Jane Doe at the hospital but the press had gotten hold of her real name and had made a small fuss about it. Old infamy and newer celebrity had convinced Vought to keep her on the payroll for a bit longer in exchange for a small, sad interview with the press, in which small, sad pictures of her brief unhappy youth had been displayed. It made a rather tragicomic sort of drama: the grown up little girl who had been institutionalized after the scandalous arrest of her monstrous father, her life saved and made brighter by the heroic actions of Vought’s mightiest. Of course, they would keep her on their payroll, it was only charitable.

She wanted to throw it back in their faces. Would have spit at the offer but… Hospital bills were expensive and she had work of her own to fund.

Every waking moment when she wasn’t working on insipid Vought advertising, she was consumed with her personal project. More sketches, canvases, as large as she could fit in her trailer, and when that size would not do, she’d gone out walking to find walls that wouldn’t be missed, walls that could accommodate her vision.

She had little else to occupy her. People in her quaint little sea-side village refused to talk to her; sometimes, they would still find the courage to break her windows or paint obscenities on her door. She would attend her therapy sessions. Occasionally, when she was lucky, she would visit her father.

“You have that look about you,” he had said to her. “You bloom my Dahlia. Are you taking your walks?”

And sometimes, she could even believe she did. She watched the news to look at him, Homelander, her John, like a flower looking for the ever-necessary light of the sun. She smiled at the tension in his jaw when he was clearly annoyed but trying to keep a smile firmly in place and marveled at her own foolishness. How could she have never seen the subtle signs of that darker version of him. The flashes of fury, the cruel viciousness, both a bit of John and whole lot of that other, Homelander, persona. It was almost a game to herself now, to guess when her demon lover would show up to scare a reporter, shut down a question, bully a civilian. When she saw Starlight’s stricken face at the announcement of Homelight, she laughed out loud in the diner she was eating at. The poor child, how could that madman do this to her? She would have been more jealous if only Starlight had looked a little less like she was heading for her own execution.

Dahlia paid for her coffee, still laughing to herself and went to take her morning walk. In the dreary, gray of the North Pacific, sunlight was hard to come by. Perhaps that’s why she had fallen so madly for her double-sided Apollo, because she missed the sun she had found in his golden hair. Rain or shine, hot or cold, she went out every morning to roam the beach, as her father had bade her, to hear the roar of the water and forget the silence of the forest. Head thrown back she welcomed the misting rain that cleansed away all memories of a life she did not recognize for herself. She wondered what John and his shadow would consider of these tree-bordered beaches and silver-tipped waves. She wondered what he would look like floating above the thunderous ocean or the jagged cliffs, primary colors against her desaturated world.

Thoughts of him, furious at her, but visiting anyway, defensive but accommodating, (why should I visit your pathetic home? she could almost hear him saying and smiled at herself) those thoughts made her happy, made it easier to clean up broken glass, throw away flower arrangements before they rotted, and keep an even, calm pace when she thought she was being followed, whether by an angry victim or Michael. Not that she didn’t have nightmares, or days when she could not get out of bed for the life of her. Not that her back and shoulder where Homelander had dislocated something did not ache (as if missing his presence, as if the source of their discomfort was essential) but even through all of that, she felt an expansive sense of happiness.

Like her orchid, like her father’s child watered as she was by blood, she felt herself blooming.

She supposed that’s why it had been so easy to fall for Vought’s bullshit this time and agree to accompany the production team for one of the Seven. It was ridiculous pay but she had been foolish enough to convince herself it was HIM, (how could it not be?) and had accepted the job without hesitation.

The sea-side location should have been warning enough.

It was her own over-eager naivete that had landed her in this mess, doled up in a blue dress she had bought to flatter another man, with too low a neckline and too short a skirt, trapped taking pictures for future publicity posters of a man who obviously considered her nothing more than a glorified groupie after her little stunt at the hospital. Not that he took much notice of her. Pretty dress and all, she was rather unremarkable, but angry insecure little men like the Deep were motivated not so often by desire as by the opportunity to humiliate. He would probably never risk another direct request as he had famously done so before. But there were little “accidents” and knowing winks, invitations to take “close ups” that she did not need. She never dreamed that she was the only one but in this team, full of locals who despised her, she was the easiest target. She had grabbed a sweater from wardrobe to cover her barely professional dress and gritted her teeth at her sheer stupidity today. She was determined to get the location work done quickly and to avoid being left alone with him at any cost.

Alas, bad timing and a poorly placed scaffolding had given her a dunk in the freezing water and swift “rescue” from their gallant hero. And an unfortunate excuse to be forced into his custody and out of her wet clothes as quick as possible. Afterwards she would angrily consider if it had been merely the rumor of the hospital or a careless word from Homelander that had given this man the idea, the AUDACITY, to believe that just because she would do anything for John, she would do anything for any man.

#homelander #homelander rp #the boys #the boys rp #do I think the Deep stopped being a creepy asshole? Not at all

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honey-buddha-kiss · 2 years

Text

HC’s on how the RFA & Saeran would react to MC being a fashion designer/someone who loves to sew

Kim Jihyun (V):

his mc wanted to challenge themselves by sketching out styles they usually didn’t use

they were thinking about nice and calm colors, but didn’t know how to get it on paper

they remembered v used to paint and asked him if he could teach them how to use watercolor

he was a little hesitant at first because he thought a professional would be better for them, but they insisted

during his break from selling his work, he’d be one of the many photographers taking pictures at mc’s fashion shows

FRONT ROW SEATS

he offered to be the photographer for some of mc’s photoshoots and the pictures he takes often make it to the cover page

let’s face it, he’s a genius

all of the models in mc’s fashion house that have worked with v have all said it was a great experience

mc is eternally grateful for his help

“Oh my gosh, Jihyun thank you so much. I love you I love you I love you” ;u;

sometimes he recites random poems to help mc think of new designs

he feels inspired by mc’s works and vice versa

they keep each other motivated during /artists/ block lol

Han Jumin:

mc had been quite busy lately and their maid had caught a cold

he had jaehee hire a temporary maid that would come the next day

so that evening, he was putting his and mc’s clothes away, but noticed mc didn’t have any tags on their clothes

he confronted mc when they got home and asked if they’d like the tags cut off for them whenever they got new clothes

for a moment mc was confused, but laughed and shook their head, telling him that they sew their own clothes

“Wait, then what about that dress you wore to the company party last month? I didn’t buy that one for you.”

“I made it myself.”

how had he not seen mc’s name in the list of the best designers he was given?????

makes mc his personal tailor

probably has them make Elizabeth 3rd clothes too

like cute little bows, booties, and dresses

mc even made the three of them matching outfits and they honestly looked like an adorable family omg /clenches heart/

“MC, how do you feel about creating a whole clothing line for cats?”

when he picked up cross-stitching as a hobby, he asked mc for advice

mc personally put the threads through the needles he planned to use

Kang Jaehee:

a bit surprised since around her, mc is always wearing casual, comfy clothes

she imagined designers dressing either formal and professionally or bold and colorful

sorry mc looked like a plain regular person like everybody else

mc does little things like repairing buttons and stitching up tears in her business attire and it just Warms. Her. Heart.

mc actually teaches jaehee the basics and they have fun sewing stuff together during their free-time

eventually when jaehee opens a café, mc surprises her with a bunch of wrapped gifts at the grand opening

flowers are overrated sorry

the boxes had table cloths, cleaning rags, oven mittens, aprons, curtains, and so much more all made by mc themselves

this darling almost cried

when did mc even have the spare time to sew all of these

it must’ve taken up so much time and energy

is forever grateful for the wonderful gift and all of mc’s hard work

Ryu Hyun (Zen):

one time he asked if they could design the costumes for one of the musicals he was starring in

the two of them would bounce off numerous ideas with one another, so the sketching phase wasn’t as stressful

he even tried sketching out a few designs himself

they had a bit of trouble choosing between ten, yes ten, different outfits because he LOOKS GOOD IN EVERYTHING

“Can’t you just wear all of them.”

“It’ll take too much time to change between scenes, plus the character doesn’t wear that many different outfits in this play. I’d love to wear all your designs though.”

zen wears the ones he doesn’t use in the musical, at home lol

not that mc minds tho cuz eye candy

he felt jealous when his mc had to take the other actors’ measurements and when they had costume fittings

he couldn’t help it. those guys were too close to them for his liking

he didn’t say anything about it, although he did get a little more clingy

enjoys being mc’s “mannequin” for sewing projects

“You can use me as your model any time!”

Choi Saeyoung (707):

he found out it was their career when he did the background check

would totally ask mc to sew outfits for cosplaying and his missions

when he notices mc stressing because of deadlines, he gives them silly and ridiculous ideas to make them laugh

is really helpful when mc needs to make important presentations for team meetings

he drew a few sketches in crayon and slipped them into one of mc’s folders lololol

at mc’s workplace, they were having a bad day and ended up bumping into one of their coworkers

mc happened to be holding some folders and a few of saeyoung’s sketches fell out

bending down to pick them back up, mc felt a smile tug at the corner of their lips

“Choi Saeyoung.”

uh oh mc’s holding his drawings and he panics

“MC, I’m so sorry. I was just joking around and-”

“Thank you.”

"What?"

HUGSSSSSSSSSSS and mc snuggles their face into his chest

O///////////O

error error Agent 707 has shut down

Choi Saeran:

one day, mc dragged him along with them to go out shopping for fabrics, threads, and all that

all the big bulks of fabric were making his nose itchy, but he didn’t mind if he was able to see mc happy

the elder ladies often pointed out how cute the two of them looked together and even teased them, asking when he was planning to propose

gaaaaah we’re just here to buy fabric

this precious marshmallow had this loving look in his eyes the entire time as he watched his precious squishy mc ramble on and on about different types of fabric, patterns, and colors

they sounded so cute and that little twinkle in their eyes had his heart racing

mc gave him a handkerchief as a gift before

it was a simple, white handkerchief with his initials and his favorite flower embroidered on one of the corners

it’s very special to him and he always makes sure not a single speck of dirt gets on it

Kim Yoosung:

when he finds out that mc is a famous designer, he starts to feel a little bit self-conscious about what he wears

he even debates on how he should style his hair, but mc reassures him that he looks fine just the way he is

when he doesn’t know if an outfit looks good or if he doesn’t know what to wear, he’d ask mc for advice

he loves it when they give him clothes that they had sewn as gifts

asks if mc could teach him how to sew and they start with hand-sewing

their apartment feels like a home ec class lmao

mc suggests they should start with sewing machines next

but yoosung's like nOPE sewing machines are for Professionals

tbh he’s just scared he might end up sewing his shirt and the fabric together and getting stuck

this little squish tried sewing a puppy stuffed animal for mc, but it turned out a little misshapen

he was too embarrassed to give it to them and hid it somewhere, but of course mc found it by accident and asked him what it was

he had no choice but to tell the truth. curse his luck hdhjshdj

mc thanks him and kisses him on the cheek

they now sleep with it whenever they go to bed, which makes yoosung kind of jealous lol

“MC why don’t you cuddle me instead?”

#mysme headcanons #mystic messenger headcanons #kim jihyun #han jumin #kang jaehee #ryu hyun #choi saeyoung #choi saeran #kim yoosung #mysme #mystic messenger #mysme hcs #mystic messenger hcs

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