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princelylove · 2 months

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An assortment of unita esecuzioni headcannons, ranging from body types to group dynamics.

For the apartment itself: The boss has cameras everywhere. Most of the unit ignores them, but Prosciutto thinks it’s fun to flirt every time he sees one (if he doesn’t get pissed off and shoot it, or smash it. He’s moody. Boss has yet to comment on that, but they keep coming back, so).

They have a cat. Technically Formaggio’s cat, but he lives here, so it’s the “family” cat. She has no name, as Formaggio forgot to name her in the first place, so everyone calls her something different. Prosciutto doesn’t like her much, and will sit on the kitchen countertop to avoid her attempts at petting him. Risotto really likes her, but the cat doesn’t come by his office often.

They have family game night and tend to deal Boss in. The boss doesn’t communicate with anyone other than Risotto directly, he’s not actually playing, it’s so they can cheat and blame him if they get caught. The only person that doesn’t cheat is Pesci.

They have a running joke that absolutely everything is caused by the boss. Fridge breaks? Boss. Door won’t lock? Boss. Drop a plate and it’s clearly your fault? Boss. Girlfriend dumped you because you cheated on her? Boss, for sure. They won’t mention the fact that Boss is ‘stalking’ them (is it stalking if you’re aware, and it’s more for security purposes?) until you misbehave. Some are only teasing, but the boss could kill you off if he felt like it.

It’s actually a valid excuse, as the boss turns their power off if they don’t meet quotas. In the winter, Prosciutto lets his stand loose to bring some heat in. He has less control over who ages/what is affected in his youth, but by the time canon happens, it’s safe to let Grateful Dead free roam without any major consequences. He pretends like he cannot control it when one of the younger members annoys him. Ooops, go get some ice, brat.

Nobody wants to bite the bullet and cuddle up to Ghiaccio in the summer, but he does make the apartment more inhabitable.

They eventually rebel because of the very intentional threats to their quality of life.

Risotto is a sizable man, he stands at about 203 cm, or 6’8”. He doesn’t have a lot of body fat, the man works like a dog. He barely has any waist, and his torso is absurdly defined- you’d think his choice in clothing is to show that off, but it’s actually functional. That’s what he says, anyway. It’s fine if you want to check him out.

He has fairly thick thighs that are just as toned as the rest of his body. His arms are sizable as well- it’s a shame he rarely shows them off. He genuinely prefers long sleeves, and perfectly fitting clothing, if not a little tight. He likes the pressure. Risotto usually wears more modest tops when he’s just running an errand.

Risotto’s hands are very neglected, besides from his nails. He keeps them short. His hands are proportionate to the rest of his body, so they look normal, but it’s clear when he holds everyday objects that he’s sizable. He likes the expression you make when you realize it- the pressure of him wrapped around you at night always reminds you how ridiculous it is to forget in the first place.

Ris has a habit of following things with his eyes rather than moving his head or body. He can stay perfectly still for hours at a time. He rarely fidgets, and barely looks like he’s breathing. He isn’t very expressive, the most you’ll get is a small sigh or a brief glance at something else.

He knows the pattern of everyone’s footsteps, and will often make small comments about what’s going on outside his office-room to ease your worries. He thinks of you like an animal that was just ‘rescued’ and needs an adjustment period.

“Prosciutto’s home.” or “Melone’s back.” are common, but if he’s worried you’re frightened of them, he’ll go into more detail.

“Those thuds are just Formaggio. We let him hang that hoop up in the living room.” or “Those bumps are Melone and Formaggio. They’re just playing.” He means play wrestling.

The bells on his hat are real. It’s a way for him to stay focused. Don’t let the bells ring, no matter what. Risotto is very heavy on self-discipline and hypervigilance, as long as he can keep the bells from jingling, he’s alright. Even when he isn’t wearing his hat, you’ve likely never heard it jingle jingle on his desk.

Italian isn’t his native language, and neither is English. Sometimes he’ll pause for a few seconds after you ask him a question. He generally speaks slowly and softly, with a blunt nature. Long sentences aren’t common, even when he’s nervous. The most long-winded Risotto will ever be is through writing- handwritten, scribbled notes about his feelings and expectations for you now that you’re Home.

He’s very anxious about nothing in particular. The psychological warfare from Boss is working. He’s like a big dog that’s too shy to move a small cat out of his bed- even though he owns the bed, and brought the cat home.

Risotto is very talkative during sex, but it’s mainly nonsensical. Does repeating “I love you” really count?

Prosciutto and Bruno have similar silhouettes, but Prosciutto has a bit more hips than Bruno does, and a little less height. Prosciutto’s muscle is from a dedicated routine and healthy lifestyle, he is considerably less bulky than Bruno, but the hourglass is very there. Perhaps the only similarity is the hourglass, long legs, and taste in work clothes.

A very long time ago, I saw someone headcanon Prosciutto as a model, and it changed my perception of him entirely. I saw the light. He’s bitter because he works two jobs, and has to come ‘home’ (He’d kill himself if anybody heard him say Risotto’s apartment was home) and babysit these brats that most definitely should know how to fucking cook by now- aren’t you in your twenties? Be a man about it, Jesus Christ. He’s not even that much older than the rest of them, yet he’s stuck playing mom.

Prosciutto’s rather proud of his waist-to-hip difference, and will let it get to his head if you stare. Of course you’re staring, you’ve probably seen him walk for a brand you’ll never be able to afford. He works hard to stay “perfect,” and absolutely refuses to sell himself out. No free pictures, no free autographs, and no, he won’t do a shoot for you. He may sit still for you to draw him, though.

He’s heavier than he looks. Go ahead, try and pick him up. Prosciutto has the type of muscle that can comfortably lift Risotto, put him on his hip, and walk, but not for a long while. He looks rather light, but he can hold his own just fine. Prosciutto’s fairly strong, as you would have to be to support an entire grown man’s weight, and he loves to show off.

I should clarify, Prosciutto is a runway model. He absolutely hates photoshoots- mainly because the cameras remind him of what he has to deal with at ‘home.’ He may be working still, but just basking in the attention and praise is relaxing, so he tends to be in a really good mood while he’s walking and right after. (Author’s note: fem pro would walk for Mugler.)

His attitude in general is a bit diva-ish. Prosciutto’s got a horrible temper- he’s only happy when he’s being given special attention and luxury gifts, but he’s not going to tell you that because it’s emasculating to go ‘ohhh I want a little present with a bow on ittt can you do that for me?’He’ll drop plenty of hints, though.

Prosciutto has a complex with age- he treats everyone younger like they’re babies and he’s in charge, and everyone older like they should be way better at what they’re doing for their age. He lets his younger teammates get away with a bit more because they’re young, they’re still learning, watch how he does things, but that doesn’t mean he’s gentle about it. (Another author’s note: Risotto, Sorbet, Gelato, and the boss are all older. Pesci, Ghiaccio, Formaggio, and Melone are all younger. Him and Illuso are the same age.)

Prosciutto has no physical ‘flaws,’ no birthmarks/beauty marks, no tattoos, and perfect skin. He could cheat with his stand, as he can go forward and back, but he doesn’t. His ego would never allow it. Don’t ask about his routine, he’d never share.

He’s blond, has light beige skin, and a horribly condescending nature. Almost perfectly stereotypically french. Prosciutto doesn’t like talking about where he came from before ‘all this’ happened, but when he speaks english, you can probably figure it out. His accent isn’t as obvious in italian- he speaks a good few languages, and will play translator when asked, if you kiss his ass.

He smells like vanilla tobacco, and expensive soap. There’s also a bit of cigar lingering on him.

#yandere la squadra #yandere prosciutto #yandere risotto nero #part two coming soonish

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black-cat-babe · 1 year

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"I have seen things that would break someone's mind. I know how it ends and you don't scare me."

#ladies and gents we are fighting against the ascendancy one chiss at a time #part two coming soonish #maybe #star wars #artists on tumblr #art #artwork #ocs #star wars oc #chiss #chiss oc #tales of the new republic

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whippetcrimes · 6 months

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I have think there's something wrong with me.

I have one singular dog. Since I've gotten Misty, I've purchased 8 collars, 2 leashes, and 1 slip leash. In addition to these, I already had 3 leashes, Misty came home with a collar, and a puppy sized martingale slip leash.

Why am I about to buy yet another leash????

#sam literally had 3 collars and 1 leash his entire 10 years of life #and one of those got so gross rolling in the woods that i tossed it #why sooooo much dog stuff #like i feel like it all has a purpose and a place but still #the bf was complaining about the amount of dog stuff we have for one dog and concerned about how much more there will be soon #well. soonish. felony may just be coming home in may. assuming we get one from this upcoming litter #i think if there are at least 6 pups then the odds are good #to be fair though of that dog stuff that she didn't come with she's grown out of or irreparably worn out half the collars #and two of the leashes are only used when we go camping as a tie out extender. part of random junk i aquired from family home #and also the leash i want is for hiking! ruffwear hitchhiker. looks good #(as the bf said. another dog item for a specific purpose)#anyways anyways. hopefully the rest of dogblr has way more than i do so i can feel less like a hoarder of dog supplies #i need it all okay #quick going out to the yard collar and leash #minimal but pretty short leash and collar #easily cleaned but still attractive collar and leash #house collar #nylon tagless collar for unforeseen collar needs #and now a handsfree leash for hiking #it just fits. the real question is why do i want to buy a matching harness for it too

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rafescurtainbangz · 1 month

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Frat Rafe Headcanons +18 Minor DNI

Ask: @babygorewhore Baby I need more frat rafe headcannons please feed me mommy

Sorry this took me so long, babe. Thank you so much for your ask Also, if you haven't, please read @xxbimbobunnyxx frat carwash blurb you should because it’s so cute. Those carwash videos make me blush for reallll. And I swear I'll be dropping some pervfrat!rafe part 2 soonish

Also I dropped fic yesterday and didn't tag people 😭 here

unedited

Pet names, unprotected p in v, mentions of oral sex, public sex, choking, jealousy, ownership kink, perv Rafe, recording sex, possessive, mentions of fighting, degradation

Meeting Him…

Frat Rafe - Who first noticed you from across the lecture hall. Luckily for him, you were sitting next to a pledge who quickly switched seats the second Rafe gave him a hard look. He didn't say a whole lot at first, chuckling to himself as he watched a little blush creep across the apples of your cheeks when he spread his thighs slightly brushing his knee against yours.

Frat Rafe - Who couldn't take his eyes off of you through the soapy glass at the Fraternity Car Wash. You shamelessly recorded the show, giggling and smiling as he and his brothers washed cars between slow grinds and finger-drawn hearts. A very wet Rafe Cameron somehow made it through the car window, his tall frame barely fitting inside the cab as he continued to work for your cash. He danced to the music blaring through the speakers, smiling cheekily as you tucked a few extra dollars in his short red trunks.

Frat Rafe - Who waved you down before you could pull out of the lot, jogging up to your freshly cleaned car, asking you to come out to the bar that night.

Frat Rafe - Who sent three back-to-back text messages before you could pull away, the third making your mouth fall open. You looked through the window, watching Rafe chuckle and smirk, pretty proud of himself at the reaction that he got from you and the smile you couldn't take off your lips.

Frat Rafe - Who you fucked after the first date. You couldn't stop thinking about him after the carwash, his tanned, toned skin glistening in the sun. It was unclear just how many times you watched that fucking video, but it was a lot. You couldn't wait to get your hands on him. Rafe Cameron lived up to every one of the rumors. The sex was amazing, the best you ever had, rough and slow, fast when you needed it. His long thick cock filled you deliciously. It seemed like he was always one step ahead of you; like he knew what you wanted before you even asked. His beautiful blue eyes were always on you, hazed with sex. His soft lips and tongue pleased you again and again ‘til you were a babbling mess.

Dating Frat!Rafe…

Frat Rafe - Who’s affectionate and gentle with you. Only you get to see that side of him, Rafe, reserving all his sweetness for you.

Frat Rafe - Who loves to wrap his strong arm around your neck in doggy, tugging you as close as possible, ‘til you're begging him to let you cum.

Frat Rafe - Who went absolutely crazy the first time you called him daddy. The petname quickly became his favorite.

Frat Rafe - Who loves to brag about you to his frat brothers, especially when he's drunk. The blonde, quick to remind them how much better you are than the girls they are hitting on to the point where it's downright rude. You’ll scold his tipsy ass, and he’ll sass you as he continues to dog his friend until you have no choice but to smash your lips against his and steal the words off his lips.

Frat Rafe - Who sent you this message just a few days after you started talking:

Little did you know how much it was on his mind. He hated that you weren't official. A much as Rafe wanted you to belong to him, he wanted to belong to you.

Frat Rafe - Who asked you out that night ‘cause he couldn't wait any longer.

Frat Rafe - Who loves sneaking away with you at parties. Sure, he loves showing you off, but his favorite thing to do is chill in his truck, listening to music while the two of you share a joint and talk.

Frat Rafe - Who would rather spend every night at your place than the frat house because he can actually relax. Some nights you go to sleep alone and wake up with Rafe’s strong body hugging you from behind after he let himself in with the key you had cut just for him. He couldn't sleep and needed you.

Frat Rafe - Who lives in weathered fraternity t-shirts and snapbacks if he's not rocking a crisp polo. At any function, Rafe’s hat usually ends up on your head, one way or another, left on from time to time when you suck him off or ride his cock.

Frat Rafe - Who doesn't trust any of his frat brothers around you but Top. If you’re coming over to hang out he's meeting you out at your car to walk you in. If you're at a party his hand is in yours, resting on your back, draped over your shoulder, or wrapped around your waist. He loves the contact just as much as he loves keeping you safe.

Frat Rafe - Who texts you cute/horny shit when he's drunk and you're away.

He often questions how he got so lucky or why are you dating me again? Rafe knows you love him, he just loves hearing it. His frat brothers also know when you're gone for the weekend because Rafe turns into an absolute dick, bitching about everything until you're back.

Frat Rafe - Who doesn't care if people can hear the two of you having sex in fact he loves it. Rafe coaches you through each orgasm, trying hard to get you screaming for him.

"C'mon, princess... Let these boys hear how good daddy’s givin’ it to you."

"Shh... Baby, I'd hate for all these guys to hear what a filthy fuckin’ slut you are f’me."

“Bet he didn't think I was fuckin’ you right. What do you think he thinkin’ now huh?”

He also loves watching you walk back into the party all flushed and wobbly knowing that he was the reason you were weak in the knees. Rafe loves to mark you with love bites, and hand prints, dark hickies on your cleavage that peek out of your low-cut dress, pairing beautifully with the sparkly little R pendant around your neck.

Frat Rafe - Who dedicates every Wednesday night for date night and will never let a frat meeting or function interfere.

Frat Rafe - Who’s a surprisingly good dancer. He’ll only dance at the bar if he's wasted, but when he does, your ass is pressed up against him with his strong hands clutching your hips. It doesn't take long until you’re dress is bunched up around your waist, panties pushed to the side, with Rafe’s pants in a puddle around his ankles as he fills you up in the dingy bar bathroom. On the other hand, if you’re at the frat house, it only takes a song or two until your bent over the bathroom sink or pressed up against the hallway wall.

Frat Rafe - Who couldn't wait for Spring Break. Each drunken day was spent at the beach with his frat brothers and your friends - each night, a different bar. But Rafe made sure you still had some moments alone whether it be to take you shopping, share a beer, or watch the sunset.

Frat Rafe - Who got rid of his dirt bike and bought a motorcycle instead. Of course, making sure he bought a helmet for you so he could bring you to class or for a cruise around campus.

Frat Rafe - Who fell in love with you all over again when you made him a beer poster with yourself as the model. You had no idea how much he loved it until you showed up to the next frat party and saw it framed on the wall.

Frat Rafe - Who’s gotten in trouble with the law a few times for fighting. Rafe, no stranger to a fight on account of you when someone tries to start shit or gets handsy. He never ends up making it to jail, usually talking or paying his way out of it.

Frat Rafe - Who knows your class schedule like the back of his hand. Whenever he's at the library he’ll text you and ask if you need a study break which is code for stuffing you full of his cock in study room D.

Frat Rafe - Who jealously gets the better of him, and when he pisses you off, all it takes is a flirty smile and a wave at one of his frat brothers or a hockey player to set him off. The rest of the night consists of rough, possessive sex, and punishment which somehow turns into sweet, slow passionate sex where's he's mumbling I love you’s and I��m sorry’s between deep strokes and kisses.

Frat Rafe - Who loves it when you wear his clothes, especially his oversized frat t-shirts paired with your cute little panties.

Frat Rafe - Who sends you gym selfies because he knows how crazy they make you, especially post-workout shots.

Frat Rafe - Who couldn't keep his hands or eyes off you at the frat formal. It was hard not to think about the future when you looked so pretty in your white sparkly dress.

Frat Rafe - Who’s fiercely loyal. You never need to worry about other girls around him, but the sight of it still makes you jealous. Rafe is quick to assure you you're all he wants and needs.

Frat Rafe - Who has a thing for your panties. The lacey and prettier the better; wrapped around the shift of his truck, looped over the hand of his bedroom door, the rung of his bedpost, anywhere and everywhere. He loves to wrap them around the base of his cock when you ride him or knot them around your wrists when he ties you to his headboard. But his eyes roll back in his skull when you stuff them in his mouth because he loves how you taste.

Frat!Rafe - Who loves recording the two of you having sex and frequently snaps pictures of you just ‘cause.

Frat!Rafe - Who won't just send you dick pics when you ask, but videos with the sounds on, usually moaning your name until he’s spilling onto his hand, using the pictures or videos the two of you took as porn.

Frat!Rafe - Who had to change his lock screen when you took him home for the holidays because it was a picture of you in his favorite lingerie.

Frat!Rafe - Who has pictures of you everywhere and he doesn't care who sees because don’t you wish you had a girl like mine.

Masterlist

Pictures and texts from Pinterest

Tags: @voyeurmunson @romaescapes @gri959 @redhead1180 @h34rtsformilli @joannamuns9n @waywardsoul113 @marahgubler @akashababy @dckweed @humanvampire13 @drewstarkeyslut @juniebugg @wearemadeofstardust0 @imbabycowboy @rafesgiirl @obxbabies @cutielando @rafedrewandjjs @rafesthroatbaby @999ares9996 @oxpogues4lifexo @dilfswife @Dilfswife @chiaraanatra @ietss @drewswifeeee @theoraekenslover @niyahnotnia

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafecore #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron headcanons #frat!rafe smut #frat rafe #frat rafe cameron #rafe cameron hc #rafe headcanons #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe blurb #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron blurb #boyfriend rafe cameron #soft rafe cameron

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writeforfandoms · 10 months

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State of My Head 3

Find the series masterlist

Here we are folks! The final chapter! There will be a bonus scene soonish, so keep an eye out for that. But this is the last actual chapter, with the promised happy ending.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, blood, injury, death of a minor character, swearing, shifter behavior, cat behavior, Gaz finally realizes he was an idiot.

Word count: 4.7k

You still hated the helicopter rides. Even though they were necessary. But you still huddled into your seat, holding tight to the grips. At least Gaz and Soap had stopped teasing you, most of the time.

This op was a little less straightforward. They didn’t have as much intel on this location, which was why Price was sending you in first. There were supposed to be weapons, but there was no clear intel on how many weapons or exactly which kind.

That was part of your job. To find the weapons and report back.

The heli landed and you hopped out, taking a moment to look around. You’d been dropped off away from the objective - there was a bit of a hike to the buildings. Apparently this was normal for them.

You were just looking forward to shifting so you could run ahead.

Price motioned for you to follow him, which you did. By now, this was routine. You weren’t combat trained, so you stayed in the middle of the group. This time, Gaz covered your back.

Price halted in a good cover spot, and you immediately shifted.

“Straight back here,” Price reminded you as you crawled out of your clothes, though he didn’t need to and you both knew it. By now, it was just habit.

You meowed softly at him and lifted one paw, tapping his boot twice. And then you trotted off towards your destination.

The set of three warehouses were a bit removed from the road, big parking lots nearly empty. They had that dilapidated look about them, run down and tagged with spraypaint. They were set outside of town, far enough away that you doubted anyone would be able to hear things going on here. Good for the people of the town, at least. The route from Price’s chosen spot to the parking lots was covered in vegetation, trees growing tall and wild, bushes providing plenty of cover spots. A series of hills rose behind the warehouse, providing further cover.

It wasn’t a bad location for a secret weapons cache, really. Unremarkable. Isolated enough to operate without suspicion, but still with easy access to a major road. Not bad at all.

The chain link fencing around the area was new. Still easy enough to squeeze under. Sometimes you were glad you weren’t any bigger.

The lack of outside lights worked in your favor, allowing you to get close. You paused outside to listen.

Definite movement inside. Footsteps. Murmuring. The click of a lighter. A side door opened several feet from your hiding spot, letting out a guard, and you held very still.

“Think they’re gonna show?” The guard had an accent, sounded Russian to your ears.

“Boss thinks they will.” A second guard stepped out of the building, lighting a cigarette. This one sounded American.

“What makes him so sure?” The Russian didn’t sound disbelieving, just bored.

“Eh, who knows?” The American blew out smoke, rolling his shoulders. “Not like I’m the boss’s right hand man.”

The two both laughed at that, and you tensed. There was something wrong here, very wrong. Who were they expecting?

A radio crackled on the Russian’s hip. “Got movement from the northwest,” someone reported in, muffled but audible. Also American. Northwest. You froze, not quite sure which direction you’d come from.

“Guess the boss is right.” The American grinned, teeth very white in the darkness. “We better finish up if we wanna get in on the fun.”

“Assuming the snipers don’t get the bastards first,” the Russian agreed. “But who knows? They are supposed to be very good.”

“It’s the same assholes that blew up the cache two weeks ago. They’re good.” The American sounded almost eager, thirsty for bloodshed in a way that made all your fur stand on end. He put out his cigarette on the bottom of his shoe, free hand reaching over to smack his companion in the shoulder. “C’mon, man, hurry up.”

You’d heard enough. You remembered the cache two weeks ago - Soap had come back exhilarated and smelling of smoke.

They were expecting your guys. Somehow, they knew.

This was a trap.

You bolted, running as fast as you could, no longer quite so worried about stealth.

But you did pause outside the fence, because they’d mentioned snipers. Okay. Think like Ghost. Where would you set up if you were a sniper?

A quick look found at least four spots you could check. After you warned the team.

It took a lot less time to get back to them, since you were less concerned about stealth and more concerned about speed. Consequently, when you arrived in front of Price, you were panting. Shifting took only a moment, leaving you crouched in front of them.

“They know,” you gasped, not giving them time to ask you questions. “Expecting you. Snipers, guards.” You waved back at the building.

Price’s eyes narrowed. “You sure?”

You nodded rapidly. “Heard two of them talking.” You swallowed against your dry throat, ignoring the chill of the night air against your skin.

Price blew out a slow breath, gaze flitting between you and the buildings in the distance. The other three all stood still and silent, waiting on his orders.

“Right. No use walkin’ in to a trap. Get back to exfil.”

There was a ripple through the group, the tension of a thwarted op paired with the knowledge that they’d been given bad intel. You, at least, couldn’t think for a moment of anything other than the fact that if you hadn’t gone first, they’d have walked blindly into that trap.

You swallowed, glancing between them. Gaz was already reaching for your clothes, Soap and Ghost on alert. Price was not going to like what you did next.

So you just wouldn’t give him a chance to yell at you.

“Meet you back there,” you said, and shifted. You were gone again before any of them could try to grab you, and you knew they couldn’t risk shouting after you.

You ran ahead of them and veered off course. It was dark, but your eyesight was better in the dark than any human’s, especially shifted. So you saw the movement of a sniper, likely scanning for your guys.

You launched yourself at the sniper, yowling. You were no bigger than the average housecat, but you had surprise on your side, and claws. He yelped as your claws dug into his shoulders and arms around his tac vest. A gunshot briefly deafened you, but rather than run off, you lunged for his hand, biting down as hard as you could. He dropped the rifle, swearing, trying to shake you off.

You let go of him and ran again. You doubted he’d go after you, and you were too small a target to shoot at with any accuracy. Especially as you zigzagged away.

So you went on, following the sounds of a radio and check in calls. Your ears flickered, pinpointing the source of the noise, before you crept up.

This one was a woman, tense and alert, scanning for enemies. Your tail flicked back and forth as you debated your approach. You could get to her hands first, incapacitate her. But you’d have to move fast, both to catch up with your guys and to not get shot.

Her radio crackled again and she turned towards the sniper you’d already attacked.

You leapt at her hands, scratching and biting. You thought it would work.

It sort of did.

She yelled and swore and swung away from you. But she didn’t drop the gun.

Instead she swung it at the same time you jumped for her.

Pain burst in your side, sharp and sudden. You tumbled out of the air, landing on your feet and howling. For a moment you wondered if you’d be able to move, if you’d even be able to make it back to exfil–

“Fucking animal,” the woman spat, and aimed the rifle at you. You scrambled for cover, the shot so loud it hurt your ears. Warmth slid down into your left ear, muffling your hearing. Another shot and your back right leg buckled under a line of searing heat.

A third shot. For a moment you expected to feel pain, to keel over.

Instead the sniper went down, blood and brain matter sprayed across the ground behind her.

One of your guys must have shot her. Which meant they were still here.

Running was immediately out of the question. Your ribs shifted, and that crunching feeling should probably be very concerning. Your injured leg didn’t want to hold your weight.

Leaving you to limp along on three legs, woozy, struggling a bit to breathe. There was no way this was going to end well for you.

A soft call of your name had you jerk, swaying a little on your feet, before you looked up at Gaz. He hissed out a soft curse, scooping you into his arms. You did your best to not make pained sounds, and failed.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded, holding you securely even as he ran back to join the others. “You could have been killed!”

“You’re explaining that later,” Price growled, ushering Gaz into the heli before him. “Damned foolish.”

You managed a weak meow, shaking your head, trying to unblock your ear. Blood spattered across Gaz’s front and the seat, but you could hear better at least.

“Fuck,” Gaz breathed, buckling in quickly. “Cap, should we–?”

“I don’t know.” Price sat next to him, also buckled in. A moment later the heli was lifting up, the faint lighting inside allowing you to see the captain’s jaw clench tight. “Not a damn vet.”

The motors were so much louder as a cat, and you pinned your ears back, still sensitive from the gunshots. And then meowed pitifully at the sharp pain from your left ear.

Price called your name, and you jerked your gaze to him. Your jaws had parted so you could pant, trying to get more air.

“Shift back,” Price demanded, firm tone mostly masking his concern. “We can’t help you like this.”

You thought about that for a moment. Shifting was going to suck. Your ribs were almost definitely broken, and would not magically be fixed. Not to mention the sheer strain of shifting that much - coupled with the blood you’d already lost, there was a good chance you wouldn’t be able to stay conscious.

Then again, if you didn’t shift, there was no vet on staff. And it was a lot easier to bleed out as a cat than as a human.

So you shifted, immediately gasping in pain at the jostling on your ribs, tears springing to your eyes.

“Easy, love,” Gaz soothed, shifting his grip on you to keep you securely against his chest. “What hurts?”

“Ribs,” you gritted out, shutting your eyes. “Ear. Thigh.” Your heartbeat pounded in your head and at your throat, far too fast. It was getting hard to focus.

“Thigh is still bleeding,” Soap pointed out from across the way, frowning.

“Yeah, spotted that,” Gaz gritted out. One big hand pressed a cloth down onto the seeping wound on your thigh, hard. You whined, hands scrambling for something to help anchor you. The heli jolted, not a lot, but enough to make you bite your tongue to hold back a shriek.

It was too much - the burning in your ribs, the ache in your thigh, the pounding of your pulse. Your eyelids fluttered - you knew you should stay conscious.

But it hurt, and it was hard, and you were less inclined to fight as the adrenaline left you. Shivering hurt, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Hey, hey, don’t you dare fall asleep on me.” Gaz sounded more panicked than angry. Someone wrapped a blanket around you, and you blinked slowly.

Price nodded once to you, though he didn’t speak, since he was on the phone with someone else. Of course he was on your left - you couldn’t hear him quite right, things still muffled on that side.

Trying to focus was way too much effort anyway. You just wanted to sleep.

Vaguely, you could hear Gaz behind you, chanting, “No no no–” But it was too much to keep your eyes open, to ask him what was wrong.

Your eyes closed as everything faded.

Soft, rhythmic beeping drew you out of sleep. Opening your eyes was a monumental task, one you accomplished in increments until you could see the boring white ceiling above you.

Didn’t look like your room, though.

Huh.

You felt like you should be freaked out about that, but you felt too weighted down to get freaked out about anything. You blinked slowly, trying to remember what happened.

The soft breathing in the room finally registered, and you blinked again and lifted your head.

Gaz was asleep next to you, head pillowed on his arms at the edge of your bed. That looked uncomfortable. No way he should sleep like that.

But parting your lips to try to call to him just made you cough, your throat dry and scratchy as sandpaper. Coughing jostled your ribs, pain flaring bright and sudden, clearing the last of the cobwebs from your brain. With the side effect of tears leaking from your eyes as you tried to calm down.

Big, warm hands cupped your cheeks, thumbs smoothing over your skin. “Easy, love, easy does it,” Gaz murmured, gaze flitting over you, as if he could do anything to help. “Best thing to do is to breathe normally, yeah?”

You stuttered through the first few breaths, slowly calming down until you were relaxed again, Gaz still leaning over you. You blinked slowly up at him, lifting one shaky hand to cover his.

“What happened?” You barely got the words out as a whisper, but you managed.

“Water first.” Gaz released you with one hand, slowly, as if he was reluctant, and pushed a button to lever the bed more upright. He held the water for you, making it easy for you to just drink through the straw.

You slow-blinked at him again when he set the water aside. That was better. Not great, but better. You tapped the back of his hand gently.

“Right.” Gaz blew out a slow breath, gaze darting from you to the side table to the machines next to you. “You’re in a hospital, Price is wrangling the doctor. You remember getting shot, yeah?”

“Thigh,” you agreed.

“And the tip of your ear.” His fingers strayed, brushing against the left side of your head, which did feel thick and muffled. Huh.

“Damn.” You huffed. “Gonna look like I got caught in a spay and release program.”

His snort was surprised and a tiny bit wet. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Still got my pride,” you mumbled, tipping your head a little to nuzzle into his palm.

“Yeah, well.” Gaz cleared his throat. “You… almost didn’t make it, love.”

You blinked at him, feeling incredibly slow. “How?”

“Not sure.” Gaz scrubbed his free hand over his face. “Guess you lost more blood than we thought, or something. But you were struggling by the time we got you here.” He swallowed hard, looking haunted.

“Too many shifts,” you muttered, trying to grab him with your free hand, and then glowering at the tug and pinch of the IV there. “Must’ve drained me more than I thought.”

“Have you been hurting yourself to help us?” Gaz sounded a little appalled, his gaze somehow more frantic as he looked you over.

You shook your head a little. “Doesn’t hurt,” you reassured him. “Normally not a problem. Just… takes energy.” You hummed softly, nestling your cheek further into the warmth of his hand, nose near his wrist. He smelled much better than the hospital room.

Gaz huffed softly, shoulders relaxing again. “You’ve got stitches in your leg,” he murmured. “And a few broken ribs.”

“Called that one.” You fought to keep your eyes open. You didn’t want to go back to sleep, didn’t want to lose the warmth of his gaze, the feel of his skin on yours. Didn’t want to go back to the distance he held you at.

“It’s okay if you wanna sleep more,” he murmured, leaning in closer. “You need to heal.”

“Don’t wanna sleep.” You nuzzled into his palm again even as your eyes closed against your will.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Gaz murmured, low and solemn, like a promise. “Just rest, love.”

As stubborn as you wanted to be, you obeyed, his scent soothing you back to sleep.

He was still there when you woke next, as was Price. This time, you felt less groggy, but definitely still not normal.

“We will have a conversation about that stunt,” Price said as soon as your gaze focused on him. “When you’re not stuck in bed.”

“Joy,” you drawled, though you relaxed a little at the knowledge that you weren’t about to be reamed. Not yet, anyway.

“Another few days here and you should be fine to come back to base.” Price tipped his head, watching you carefully.

“‘Kay.” You grimaced as you tried to breathe deeper, the ache in your ribs reminding you why that was not a good idea.

“That’ll take a while,” Gaz murmured sympathetically. “Ribs are the worst.”

“Be easier as a cat.” But you just made a face, displeased with the prospect of months of recovery.

“After the stitches come out,” Price interrupted, giving you a stern look. “Not before.”

“I know.” You couldn’t help but pout a little.

Price snorted. “Get some rest,” he ordered, taking a single step forward to pat the top of your feet. He shot a look at Gaz that you couldn’t decipher before he turned and left.

Leaving you with Gaz again.

“How’re you doing?” Gaz shifted closer to you, his knees knocking into the side of the bed.

“Okay,” you said slowly, watching him. Now that you were less out of it, the sudden closeness and concern were… odd. You knew it was him, you knew his scent anywhere. Even in your sleep. Had he hit his head at some point? No, Price wouldn’t let him get away with not getting that treated.

“What?” Gaz blinked at you, gently curling his hand over your free hand.

“You’re… different.” You stopped yourself from saying more. Kinder. Softer. More like you remembered from the beginning, when you’d decided he was your person.

He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing, and looked down at your linked hands. “Yeah,” he agreed softly. “I, uh. I’m sorry. Been a real ass.” He rubbed the back of his neck, managing to look up at you from under his lashes.

You slow-blinked at him again, resisting the urge to headbutt him. For multiple reasons. Not least of which because it would hurt to move. “Coulda been worse.”

“You’re not supposed to excuse my shitty behavior.” Gaz frowned disapprovingly.

You shrugged and then hissed as your ribs reminded you that yes they were still broken. “It didn’t change anything.”

Gaz looked at you like you were a little crazy. “What do you mean?”

“Well.” You licked your lips and swallowed. Your turn to be nervous. “I wouldn’t have… I mean, I still… Hm.” You pursed your lips. Damn humans for being so insistent on words. Any cat would have known by now!

“You still… what?” Gaz leaned closer, eyes focused on you.

Soap saved you from having to explain, waltzing into your room with water and pudding. “Price mentioned ye were finally up! How ye feel, hen?”

“Alive,” you grumbled, tilting your head to look at him. “You brought food?”

“Just some pudding.” He offered it up and even opened it for you. Because he was a good friend.

“When are these bandages coming off?” you asked in a grumble, already annoyed at the reduced hearing in your left ear.

Soap shrugged. “Couple more days. Leg will take longer.” He tipped his head. “Why?”

“Wanna see how bad it looks.” You grimaced. You were a cat, after all. You had some vanity.

“Badass, more like.” Soap reached over to touch you, paused, and redirected his hand to very gently pat the top of your head instead.

“Not made of glass.” You looked down at your lap, scowling a little.

“Hen. Broken ribs suck. Ah ken.” Soap crouched so he could catch your gaze. “Ye’ll hurt for months. No need to go lookin’ for more hurt.”

You blew out a breath and then winced. Okay. Right. “Good point,” you admitted.

Soap grinned. “Has this dafty even tried t’ keep ye entertained?”

You blinked at Soap. “Uh. Define entertained.”

“Means no.” Soap reached over you to swat Gaz’s shoulder. You half-expected them to devolve into tussling - you’d seen it happen before. But they didn’t, this time. Instead Soap snagged another chair, pulling it up to your bedside with a flourish. “Right! Have I told ye ‘bout my sisters?”

The days passed slowly, but they passed. The hospital was boring. But you did rest, because you were forced to. Gaz was there every time you woke up, even in the middle of the night. Trying to get him to go had earned you the most pathetic puppy eyes you’d ever seen, and you were a bit ashamed of how quickly you caved to him.

Which was part of the whole problem, really. He was still your person, even if you weren’t his.

Gaz was the one who helped you from the bed to a wheelchair to make it out of the hospital. Gaz was the one who sat in the backseat with you, helping brace you and talking you through the pain of every bump in the road. Gaz was the one who brought you back to your room, who sat with you and insisted you boss him around telling him what you needed.

Honestly, it was baffling. Completely baffling. It still felt a bit like he’d been replaced with a pod person, or something. (Except your nose would’ve picked that up.)

The bandages around your head finally came off, and you examined the rough half-circle taken out of the top of your ear, completely silent, while Gaz hovered over your shoulder.

“It’s not bad,” you grumbled at last. “Still looks like I got caught by a spay and release program.”

“Have you ever?” Gaz held your gaze in the mirror.

“No one ever caught me,” you said with a haughty sniff, lifting your chin. “Until you. All. You all.”

Gaz drew in a deep breath, his hands settling very carefully on your shoulders. “We never finished our conversation.”

“Which one?” You didn’t quite have to feign ignorance - you’d fallen asleep talking to him more than once, recently.

“About what a shit I was.” He paused. “And why you’re so eager to sweep it under the rug.”

“Oh. That.” You swallowed, gaze skittering away from him.

“Yeah, that.” He shifted closer to you.

You hummed a soft note, not quite sure how to get out of this conversation, not sure if you should. Then you sighed softly. “For the record. You are an idiot.” You clenched your jaw and then released it. “If you were anyone else, I’d hold that against you for a long time.”

“What about Price and Ghost?”

“Trust me, I’ll be reminding them that they hated me and use it to my advantage.” You smirked. “Cats have long memories when we want.”

“So why aren’t you holding it against me?”

And therein lay the problem. You fidgeted, making a face. “Alright. So. There is one major way we differ from, say, house cats.”

“Okay…?” Gaz looked bewildered but rolled with the apparent change of topic.

“We choose one mate for life. Usually the female chooses. ‘S why Mama’s the matriarch.”

Gaz blinked and then his eyes blew wide as he breathed out your name.

“I made my choice three days into my stay here.” You forced yourself to hold still, to hold his gaze.

“You… But… Even when I…?” He looked… a little devastated, a little hopeful. Pained, definitely.

“Yes.” You shrugged carefully. “The whole damn time.”

Somehow, you weren’t quite sure how, Gaz managed to move around you, getting to your front and kissing you, soft and sweet. His fingers trembled against your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, moving back just enough so he could speak. “I’m such a damn fool. You nearly died and I–” His breathing hitched.

“Easy,” you murmured, lifting one hand to cover his. “I’m okay.” You paused. “Well. I will be okay.”

“Made me realize what an idiot I’d been,” he continued, pressing his forehead to yours. “Made me realize I love you.”

Your breath caught, your eyes going wide. “You… do?”

“I do.” He huffed, breath warm against your lips. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“Already forgiven.” You smiled slowly, carefully nuzzling his cheek. “Told you. Can’t hold a grudge against my person.”

Gaz smiled. "Feel like I should scold you for being so forgiving about this, but it works to my advantage."

You chuckled and then winced. Right. Ribs. "I'll be happy when those stitches come out," you grumbled, glowering down at your leg.

"Just a few more days," Gaz soothed. "Are they bothering you? Itching?"

"No. I just want to shift." You made a face.

"You don't like being stuck, do you?"

You swallowed hard, because that was… a little too accurate. "Right."

Gaz kissed you again soft and slow and sweet. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing, you'll give me a complex." But you smiled, leaning in very carefully to nuzzle his cheek. "Just don't do it again. My forgiveness has its limits."

"Promise I won't." He kissed you again, apparently unable to help himself.

Not that you were complaining.

Your only real complaint was that anything more was out of the question. For the moment.

Gaz held your hand as the stitches were removed. The on-base medic gave you some advice (that you didn't actually pay attention to) before leaving.

You waited until the door was shut to shift. It hurt. It hurt more than you expected, left you panting softly.

But you were once again on four paws. Much better.

"You alright?" Gaz crouched down to be on your level, concern clear in his eyes.

You chirped and licked the tip of his nose, smug. This felt much better.

He chuckled quietly. "Can I pick you up?"

You chirped again, walking carefully closer to him. Walking hurt, but not as badly as when you were human.

It took a little figuring out, but Gaz picked you up and cradled you against his chest, one arm securely under your paws. You started purring immediately, rubbing your cheek against his chest.

The only times he put you down the rest of the day were when he absolutely had to.

Best of all? He went back to hand feeding you, grinning through the teasing from Soap.

You purred the entire meal.

Finally, he headed back towards your room for the night. "You ready for bed?" He asked softly.

You mrrped at him and tapped his hand. He blinked down at you. You looked very carefully down the hall, towards his room.

"You… want to stay with me?"

You chirped an affirmative.

"Well… alright. Just for tonight." He continued down to his room, setting you gently on the bed.

You gave him privacy to change for bed, padding up to his pillow to lay down next to it. Curling up was a no-go, so you laid carefully on your uninjured side.

Gaz settled down with you, kissing the top of your head. "Sleep well, love."

You closed your eyes, purring gently. There was no way you were just staying in here tonight. If you had your way, you'd never go back to your room.

You could be very persuasive when you wanted.

#state of my head #shifter au #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #f!reader

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 2 months

Text

Child’s play part two coming soonish. Hehe I promise I’m working on it lol have a snippet

#ygmyhyk snippets #ygmyhyk thoughts #miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 fanfic

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shattersstar · 10 months

Note

Please use this as a free pass to write "admiring them from afar" with anyone you want :^)

the hellcat spangled shalalala

pairing: college!au jason todd x reader

prompt: blossoming romance - admiring them from afar

warning: harassment mention (in joking context)

a/n: more college basketball au bc i say so! seriously tho thank u for the request it worked out as a great free pass ☺️ this can be read as a stand-alone or taking place after drawstring. comments r appreciated and i hope y’all enjoy ! and expect another part soonish <3

—

shot at the night series.

—

when your judgment’s on the run, and you’re acting like a stranger cause you thought it looked fun.

The morning sun casted a milky glow, pouring in through the windows and lighting up the store as clouds moved on. Summer began to roll through, exams a thing of the past as Gotham hummed with warmth. You were going to the beach sometime next week, even if it was over a two hour drive away, you were beyond excited. It had been easy to forget all about school, despite the fact the summer term was coming up and you were taking a course. On top of working at a cafe during the week, the gas station on weekend mornings, and still unpacking your new place, you were surprisingly busy.

It was why you hadn’t really seen Jason. Or at least what you had told yourself. You two were in a confusing place, you both knew you liked each other, had worked through some things, but you wanted time. To figure out how genuine your feelings were or if they were just because Jason admitted to liking you. It was nice to be desired, to be sought after, but you didn’t want to string Jason along.

Even if Jason took forever to tell you how he felt and handled it like an ass, he didn’t deserve that.

No one did.

The thought made you sigh as you looked over the columns of scratch and lotto tickets. You had never bought one when you turned of age and always wished you did. It seemed fun, if a bit pointless. You were engrossed with the paper coated in gossamer film that glimmered in the sunlight when the bell above the door rang. You peered through your lashes at whoever came in, heart skipping a beat as the object of your affection breezed through like an early morning fantasy. Jason sent you a quick smile before ducking towards the fridges in the back and scanning through the drinks.

You watched his tall figure from where you perched behind the counter. Elbows resting on the plastic case holding the tickets that no longer occupied your attention. His broad shoulders rose and fell with a sigh, black waves brushing the back of his neck. He was in track pants that hung low on his hips, shirt partially tucked in and giving you a chance to take in how his waist curved and held muscle and fat you could only imagine the delicious sight of.

“You guys don’t have anymore Propel?” Jason called, looking over his shoulder.

You nearly fell over being caught staring, opting to scrunch your nose at the question. “Unfortunately not sir. They don’t sell well because, personally, those drinks are grossly sweet.” You said in your best customer service voice, a grin pulling at Jason’s mouth as he turned back to the fridge.

“Uh huh. Thank you for your input.”

“I live to serve.” You chimed, loud enough for him to hear over the hum of the fridges and the quiet playlist you had put on. Jason snorted from the distance, prompting you to steal another look at him before you busied yourself with refilling the lighter display, which you had abandoned in favour of zoning out earlier.

You had always told Jason you were tired and bored on shift, opening at 5am most weekends. It had become a habit during the school year for him to stop by, usually on a run, but today with a bag slung across his body, you were sure he was heading to the gym on campus. Off season practice you supposed.

You also realized it likely meant when Jason moved off campus, it was still nearby if he was able to stop by before heading to campus. That or he went out of his way to see you, which made your heart skip another beat. You looked back over to Jason at the sound of the fridge door closing, trying to keep your eyes low as you followed his footsteps. He walked up the furthest aisle than down the one closest to the register, lingering while you shifted behind the counter.

“Anything I can help you find?” You called, sweetly.

Jason shook his head no, looking over at you that crooked smile. “Nah, I don’t think you guys carry what I’m looking for.” He opened the energy drink he picked, taking a sip while you smiled in return.

“Yeah unfortunately we don’t carry steroids.” You shrugged. Jason nearly spat out his drink as he laughed, and you were unable to contain your giggles from behind your hand. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, picking up a bag of chips before turning towards the cash. Jason placed both his items on the counter and tossed a granola bar there after pursuing the treats that sat below the register for a minute.

“That’s all.” He said, while you pointed at the drink.

“In future, we ask customers wait till purchase before opening food or drink.” You said, the playful air in your voice still there.

“Oh give my apologies to the owner.” Jason remarked, while you scanned his items.

“Will do…its been a while since you came in. And you didn’t get a patty today.” You muttered, looking at the screen. You had become used to your early morning meetings, even if exams and everything that happened between you two had kept Jason away since the term ended. It didn’t make it hurt less, but it wasn’t because of him. You knew you were the one putting up distance when he finally opened up to you.

“You remember all your regulars that well?” Jason asked tentatively.

“Only the cute ones,” You said, tapping the screen before adding, “Like that redhead you used to come in with whose dropped dead gorgeous. You ever give out his name or number?” You teased, Jason was well aware you knew Roy and his number.

“What does he normally get again?” Jason countered, and you pulled your lip between your teeth as you met his gaze. You stayed silent before raising your hands in defeat, you knew when you lost your battles.

The computer beeped at you for taking too long, and you chuckled awkwardly before pressing a few buttons. You could feel his eyes taking in your side profile as he often did. You wondered how you didn’t know Jason’s true feelings before when you caught him admiring you so often. And worse, how could you think your feelings were anything, but genuine when every time Jason did something like that, your heart raced.

He was so beautiful and could have anyone, a sentiment you felt tenfold when you learned he played for the university’s basketball team, but Jason chose you. He looked at you and made you feel like no one else did and you had been foolish to deny that for so long.

“It’s 9.55.” You said, as he handed you cash.

“You can keep the change.” Jason said, shoving his snacks into his bag.

“I definitely don’t get paid enough so thanks.”

Jason hummed, fiddling with the lid on his drink, and despite the platform the counter sat on, he was still taller than you. You were almost eye level like this, but Jason still had to glance down as he spoke his next words. “You called me cute earlier.”

“Oh I did?” You played dumb and Jason’s jaw shifted, but you knew he wasn’t angry. The ease that normally flowered between you two took over your conversation as he nodded.

“Pretty sure.”

“Well if you wanna file a harassment claim, it’ll be with the owner you owe an apology too.”

“Maybe that makes us even.” Jason said, quiet.

“Maybe…or you could pick me up after my shift if you really wanna square things. I finish earlier today.” You said, gaze flickering between the lotto tickets and Jason’s face. A boyish grin took over his expression as genuine excitement seemed to fill him.

“Fuck yeah—I mean yeah, that’d be great. What time?” He reeled himself in while you toyed with his receipt.

“Noon instead of three.” Jason nodded, that wild glint in his eyes spelt trouble in the best way. He adjusted the strap on his shoulder and while distracted, you placed your palms flat on the counter and pushed yourself to his height. You pressed a quick kiss on Jason’s cheek before settling onto the stool behind you. Jason nearly dropped his bottle as he processed what you just did.

“See you later Jason, I’ll save you a patty if all the construction guys don’t get to them first.” You promised, as he headed towards the door, running his fingers through his hair and looking back at you with indiscernibility. It was shock and awe you supposed.

“See ya baby!” Jason called as he left, dazed tone and pet name threatened to set you on fire as a group of kids barrelled in and darted straight to the freezer. You paid no mind to their yells and counted the hours till Jason picked you up for your first date.

shalalala.

title/lyrics from the hellcat spangled shalalala by arctic monkeys

more reading: college/uni hcs + jason todd

#i need a series name for this #im open to suggestions lmao #shot at the night #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #dc imagine #dc x reader #writing

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fionajames · 4 months

Text

updates!

hey guys!!! as you all probably realised, ive been pretty absent. i just got back to school from summer holidays (AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE OI OI OI) and therefore, its a lot. plus i do a lot of extra-curricular and im doing my school's musical too 😅 (@techs-goggles9902 can prove im busy af <3)

ive got a few things in the works but ofc with school, extra stuff, tests (ITS NOT EVEN THE THIRD WEEK YET WTAF) and writers' block, im moving pretty slow.

however it would be greatly appreciated if you guys could send asks about/for me to write about the creepers.

im super excited for two particular things coming out some time soonish; ethereal pt.2 (check out part 1 here) and the introduction to a new oc (ik, another one, *sigh*) that i know y'all love.

anyways!!!!!!!!

please send asks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

love ya

<3!!!!!!!

(tagging: @skellymom, @sevdidntdie (hey buir!!!) and @transmascanakin)

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atsadi-shenanigans · 18 days

Text

Feeding Alligators 56 - This Bitch

Because I am incapable of cross-posting during the middle of the week, here's Wednesday's chapter! Ch. 57 coming out tomorrow: Let the Bodies Hit the Floor.

You meet the Absolute.

On AO3.

As Wyll says, the rain ends just about as fast as it started. Y’all head out again, up the hill, when y’all run into another troupe of goblins with a short, purple dude tied up to a spinning windmill. Little dude hollers all the way up, and all the way down.

You’re still drained, so when you catch Karlach clucking her tongue at the little dude’s predicament, you nudge her into talking to the goblins. She basically threatens to crush their skulls between her hands—she leans in all close and heat pours off her and huh, that does something for you.

The goblins leave the little dude—Wullbren—who’s looking for his friend. He lets y’all have his pack in thanks for the rescue. Still no jewelry (you been avoiding looking at Astarion since the shed; it’s horrifying how easy it is to fall back into a friendly pattern with him).

It’s quiet up to the last bridge. Some kinda building rises in a crag through the hill beyond. The brush is burnt and charred, little pockets of embers still gather at the bases of blackened trees. Shitty, shoddy ramparts have been thrown up in that crag gap, and goblins move atop them. They ain’t alone.”

“Are those wargs?” you say. Fuckers look like some kinda hyena-bear mix (what would a half Man-Wolf, half ogre even look like).

Gale shoots you a look. “How do you know what a warg is?”

Same way you know about elves, magic, goblins, and fucking ogres.

“We got stories,” you say. “Made up stories, for us. But here…”

The last part said with a gesture to the ramparts.

Gale’s fingers twitch again. Since he can’t whip out an inkpot and a scroll right here, he inhales, clasps his hands, and says, “I rather strongly request another information session when we have the chance.”

Man wants stories.

“If we ain’t all dead, sure,” you say.

This whole thing might be over by tonight. Or soonish, if Mr. Healer ain’t dead. And after that…

After that, you’re stuck here.

The thought twists your stomach. You look at the group again. All of them with their own lives. Two of them want nothing to do with you (you try not to acknowledge the white fluff outta the corner of your eye). Shadowheart seems nice enough eventually, but she still has her own secret shit going on. Karlach is fresh outta the hells, so your best bet is still likely Wyll or Gale. And you can be of more use to Gale, you think. Wyll seems friendly and heroic, and you doubt he’d leave your ass in a ditch. But Gale is hungry for knowledge (you recognize that look) and you can leverage that.

…maybe he needs a housekeeper? You could do that.

Later. This is all later. Flailing around about it now ain’t gonna help a damned thing.

For now, y’all gotta get past the guard post of goblins.

“Hey Karlach, you wanna go scare our way in again?”

She grins all mean and smacks her fist into her palm. “Aces.”

***

She does, in fact, scare y’all in. Leaves one of the goblins wearing a smear of warg shit all over his face—he started it, so you don’t feel that bad. The trail is muddy, everything smells like acrid piss, and then a fucking voice shoots down outta the sky to thunderclap inside your skull.

It knocks you to your knees. Overwhelming pressure shoves you down. Squeezes your skull. You try to push up (Lae’zel got you to three push ups before she gave up on you), but a new wave comes crashing down and tries to shove your face into the dirt.

Someone curses behind you. The crew is down, too. What—

A voice. Loud. Consuming. A woman? She’s saying something, but you’re seeing flashes of something, of people?

The Absolute, you realize. You know it, like you know your own name or you know you got ten toes. This is the Absolute calling to you, pulling you, forcing you.

She bursts open your head like stepping on a grape. Bursts the others, and you can feel them, too. Stranger thoughts, alien ones.

Mostly panic. This is it. It’s got you. A ghaik enslavement. A foreign goddess. No, no gods not again not again you got away from him—

Your mother standing over you, you all half-naked and crouched on the cement floor with everybody watching, everybody knowing and you grovel outright, the shame clogging your throat, blinding your eyes—

The rage snaps like a trigger. Like an eruption. Hot fury blasts up, shattering fear and panic in a raw, churning plume blowing up the surrounding mental landscape.

No.

Fuck that bitch and fuck them all, you’ll kill them, every last one of them and they ain’t gonna get you, not ever again, you will burn the farmstead to fucking ashes and then burn those ashes to fucking powder—

“Stop!”

A red light blasts through the crushing torment. Cuts through your rage—a flash in the periphery, startled, wary—and the new voice barrels into the Absolute. The pressure clears, the voice whispering before it cuts off completely.

You’re on the ground again. Arms shaking, knees knocking. You take some unsteady breaths and sit up as something flies outta Shadowheart’s bag to plop into your hand.

The fuck?

“Uh,” you say.

But when you turn, you’re getting weird looks. Lae’zel wears pure suspicion, laser-focused on Shadowheart. Who seems torn about something, though she keeps glancing to the spiky ball now in your hands. But the others…

Gale swallows. Blinks something down. “I believe we’ve just met this new goddess, then.”

Fucking bitch pig. Fucking asshole bitch pig.

“And we were saved by a relic of my people,” Lae’zel says, staring daggers at the back of Shadowheart’s skull.

The cleric stiffens.

But Gale cuts between them, as he’s low-key been doing the whole time. “Whatever it is, it just saved us from a psychic bombardment. We must be getting close to this Absolute, and its power will only grow stronger as we do. I have a grave suspicion that without that artifact, we’d be helpless as babes. Best put aside our difference before we sprout full ceremorphosis tentacles, yes?”

Both women stand there a moment. Only once something moves at Shadowheart’s side do you notice she’d grabbed the handle of her mace.

“Agreed,” she says. Gives a mean girl head tilt to Lae’zel. “Or are the gith so proud and blinded as to throw themselves unarmed at their enemy?”

If Lae’zel glared at you like that, your skin’d peel right off. She hisses (good god, your primate brain don’t like that at all) and nods. Once.

“Good. Now,” Gale says. “There’s a goblin camp and perhaps our salvation just ahead. Shall we?”

You let them all settle and set off again. You try to give the spiky ball back to Shadowheart, but she catches Lae’zel watching her like a dingo on a human baby, and shakes her head.

“It came to you,” she says. “You keep it.”

An uninvolved third party. Cause that’s what you wanna be right now.

You pull out your pack to shove the thing in there—the fuck is it? A toy? A music box? A puzzle to summon skin-flaying BDSM demons?

Wyll sidles up as you’re cinching the pack shut again. He’s got something soft in his face when he looks at you.

It immediately lifts your hackles.

“Was that your mother?” he says.

Your mind blanks. Everything goes flat and still, because this? This ain’t happening.

(Your brains were connected.)

Those memories are your own, private shit show and you don’t share.

(They saw.)

You ain’t never told Sasha all of it.

(They saw.)

You ain’t never told any therapist all of it.

(NO.)

“Who was what?” you say.

Karlach stares, too. Her eyebrows crunch together.

“That vision. Or memory,” Wyll says. “I…I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”

Oh, you seen this before. Especially in them early days, when you’d be telling some story and kinda laughing about it, but then you’d look over and catch that face, right there. The veiled horror. The goddamn sympathy. The look of somebody who found a mangy, broken stray on the side of the road, only this dog’s too mean and it keeps trying to bite.

The fuck they’re gonna look at you like that.

You keep your expression loose, your own brow slightly wrinkled—totally in puzzlement and not at all in panic and terror.

“What vision?” you say. “I saw them three people that voice was all attached to? Them fucking…disciples or whatever?”

How much did they see? You felt Lae’zel’s queasy dread, the utter failure that swallowed her when that seemed the end.

Wyll pauses. He’s gonna say something. You know it. But then he just folds whatever it was back underneath a rueful smile. “It must have been part of the attack, then. Think nothing of it.”

And you almost believe him. The way he relaxes. The softness of his eyes. It’s all Wyll, dashing and kind.

But you didn’t get out by believing, and part of you whispers: he knows, they all do, fuck, fuck.

You can’t show that, though. You’re gonna brazen it out come hell or high water.

“Druid rescue, huh?” you say.

And that gets Karlach going again, too. They shuffle off after the others, and you sling your pack up over your shoulders.

You know he’s still standing there. Hasn’t moved or said nothing. But you can feel him watching, so you summon your best bored face (which you been told by a lot of people it looks extra bitchy) and turn.

You don’t say nothing, either. Just watch him watching you. Raise one eyebrow.

Astarion looks…strange. Maybe that’s just his version of thoughtful. It ain’t Bitch or Gripe or Flirt. You ain’t even sure he knows he’s doing it. There’s something different in it, different than all the other times he’s ever looked at you.

He still don’t say a goddamn word. Finally, you lift your arm in an “after you” gesture, and his face buttons back up. He sets off after the others.

And that is entirely too much being perceived for you. Makes your damn skin crawl.

#feeding alligators fic #these two shitheads #astarion #astarion x tav #tavstarion #slow burn #demisexual tav #plus size tav #it's an isekai #the disclosure arc

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oftlunarialmoon · 4 months

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Top 5 Hobbies for a Kawaii Lifestyle

Originally posted to www.onlyfunthings.org on January 11, 2019

Ciao lovelies! Today here’s 5 “Kawaii Lifestyle” Hobbies!

Now before I begin, I want to say that these hobbies are NOT the only hobbies that can be included in a “Kawaii Lifestyle”! You could do anything for hobbies and still lead a kawaii life. These are just some hobbies that may be considered “Kawaii” traditionally/stereotypically.

So now, let’s get into this super cute hobby list!

#1- Toy Collecting! Many Kawaii Lifestylers that I know of, myself included, collect toys! Some collect vintage toys, some collect modern and some collect both! Toy collecting can be very fun for many reasons. For one, if you have a more childish nature/if you’re an age regressor, you can play with the toys! For two, your toy collection can make great kawaii décor! Toys come in all shapes and colors and sizes, so you can carefully select what you want to display! Some Kawaii toys to collect that I recommend: Num-Noms!

As well as: Calico Critters (also known as Sylvanian Families), Shopkins Lil Secrets (Which are a lot like old school Polly Pockets), Squishies, Molang figures, Monster High Minis….ect!

And going right along with toy collecting is…

#2- Toy Photography / Doll Photography! Another super fun and “kawaii” hobby is toy photography! Toys and dolls can be easier photo subjects (sometimes) than humans in my opinion because you can pose them exactly how you imagine, and you can take many shots while they hold the same pose! There are many highly poseable kawaii dolls like Monster High, Ever After High, Made-To-Move Barbie, and even BJD!

#3- Crafting/DIY! A big part of Kawaii subculture which isn’t really talked about enough in my opinion is the amount of crafty kawaii lifestylers! I’ve seen so many crafty kawaii lifestylers who make their own clothes, jewelry, accessories, décor… but yet I don’t see much discussion about it, and it can be hard to find good craft tutorials online for that specific niche! But crafty-ness is a big part of kawaii culture! I’ve even recently discovered a good place to get some kawaii stickers and beads for cute resin and jewelry projects, Blippo.com ! Blippo has many very kawaii items for pretty cheaply, just the other night I ordered a BUNCH of stuff for under $12 and free shipping, as well as a free mystery welcome gift! (my full review of Blippo is coming soonish, my orders are still in post). Another great place to find kawaii craft supplies is Aliexpress using search terms like “Kawaii Cabochon” and others like that. Just remember that Aliexpress is similar to Amazon/Ebay and you should always check the reviews before buying anything! (Note- this post was not sponsored by either of these sites, this is just my own opinion).

#4- Baking! Baking can be so much fun, and you don’t even need to make things from scratch to have a good time! Want to know a secret? Some of the best cakes I’ve ever made were with a modified box mix! One of my best tips is: “To make a boxed cake mix really amazing, follow the directions on the box EXCEPT: add 1 more egg than what it calls for, instead of using oil use melted butter (and double the amount), instead of water use milk!” This tip I found on Pinterest, and I’ve used it several times to make some of the best cakes and cupcakes I’ve ever made! ….So I bet you’re wondering how this hobby is particularly “kawaii”? Well, the decorating of course! Decorating cakes, cupcakes, cookies and more is one of the best parts of baking! You can make the baked good as kawaii as you want!

#5- Journaling! I know I mentioned this briefly in Wednesday’s post, but let’s talk quickly about how to make this kawaii. Again, you can use sites like Blippo.com to find cute stickers, washi tape, pens and pencils! You can also doodle in your journal and draw cute things like flowers, animals, and chibis! You can also press flowers in a journal for extra cute-ness.

What do you think of our suggestions? What do you consider to be “kawaii” hobbies? Let us know in the comments!

Remember to Stay Awesome and Love Yourself!

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abysskeeper · 8 months

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"Small ideas" I tell myself. Needed to get something out of my system, so have an atheistic wizard/cleric and a former God's Chosen two wizards duking it out and making out about godhood and relationship insecurities. Spoilers for Act 3...it happens sometime early there I guess.

While I love Fiona and Wyll dearly, Nox'ani is my second Tav playthrough and she and Gale are just...something else. This is rough and messy, but maybe I'll clean it up in full one day soonish. I just gotta get the writing flowing again.

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The moment he set his eyes on it, Nox should’ve known it would come to this. Well, perhaps that was a touch unfair to expect from herself. She was more concerned with everything else going on in the chamber to have noticed or really considered what the Crown was at the time. So really, the moment Gale sat her down and explained to her what it was and what he hoped to accomplish with it, she should have known it would come to this.

“Alright…let us imagine you manage to acquire the Crown. What then, hm?” Nox asked, crossing her arms against the chill of the nighttime breeze that swept through the glade they found themselves in. That would be her excuse in any case, though she knew it was a common gesture she performed against her own, rising frustrations.

“You wish to battle with Mystra?” she pressed, and then rolled her eyes with a derisive snort, “As if we have no idea how that would go. This is the goddess’s third incarnation, and Toril has tired to tear itself apart each time she died. Even if you won against her, there is no telling how the Weave would react, nor no telling how Toril would react to the Karsite Weave if it came to it. Or—”

Her face fell as the darker thought crossed her mind. It was one she had no desire to entertain, one she knew logically made no sense in the grander scheme they were painting, but then much of Gale’s remaining feelings regarding Mystra likely defied logic. Understandably so, all things considered. “—Or do you still wish to return it to her? To return to her? Do you wish to kowtow to her again in hopes she will finally see your worth and return you to her side?”

For his part, Gale had afforded her neutrality and respect as she spoke against his desires. His face quickly soured at this accusation though, his eyes narrowed and his mouth pulled into a frown. “You are more than aware that is as unfair as it is untrue,” he refuted curtly.

“Fine,” she agreed quickly, because she was aware that it was unfair to ask, and she figured it was untrue by now. As she knew, logically it made sense, but a part of her still doubted. Likely, a part of her would always doubt whether he was truly over Mystra. A part of her would always doubt she was enough to sideline a goddess. But that was her burden to bear and it was her insecurity to trouble over and puzzle out, not his. Especially not now.

“That still does not answer any of my prior questions,” she pointed out quietly.

“Your prior questions…” Gale trailed off and let out a heavy sigh, “Your prior questions are worthy of consideration, undeniably, but they are still hypothetical—and they are hypothetical because you are correct. We do not know how Toril would react, it could be as you expect, or it could be as I expect. Or it could be anywhere in between, and that is part of the risk,” he acquiesced. His eyes fixed on her, imploring her to understand, “But is it not worth the risk, Nox? All it would take is but a moment, and then I…and then we…”

“And what of we?!”

She grimaced as she interrupted him and he stopped, stepping back in surprise at her outburst. But was it really so unexpected? This was the second time he had slipped in his explanations, the second time he had put himself first and considered her and them together second. It was unintentional, she would allow him that grace because she knew it. It was born from years of fending only for himself, of having to only consider himself and what he needed. It was born of relying solely on himself, and knowing he would be the one to complete this plan of his. She knew it was no slight against her, but it still bore questioning because she worried it was the crux of the issue.

Selfishly, it was the crux of her issues. Frightfully, she worried it was the driving force behind his decisions. What of them together?

“Then what of us?!” Nox demanded, and she could feel her throat starting to burn, “What of me?!” Her feet carried her back a step of their own accord, and she looked up at him with hot, blurry eyes. “Or do you not realize this is a plan for one? What would you wish of me when I am no longer able to stand at your side as an equal?” she demanded. “Would you have me kneel at your feet as a subordinate? Is that what you desire?”

Her jaw clenched at the very thought, but to prove her point she slowly lowered herself to her knees before him and then bowed her head as if in prayer. She felt a tremble pass through her—frustrated, yes, but also enraged…fully aware of just how many times she had held this exact position to no avail—before she ground out, “Is a worshipper what you seek? A single soul to praise the Great Lord of Magic?”

She needn’t look up to feel the shift in the air around them, the weight of anger extinguishing like the flame on a wick being snuffed and transforming into something altogether…different. Slowly, she raised her head and met his stare with her own. His brown eyes were dark, nearly black, and the charge that surged through their locked gazes made her mouth run dry as the rest of her words died on her tongue. The thought struck her, briefly, that if he wanted her on her knees all he had to do was ask…which was a surprising revelation in itself because a month ago that wasn’t the case.

Though a month ago, Nox supposed, she had yet to admit she had fallen for this frustratingly incredible wizard who refused to see the worth he contained in his own, mortal self.

Not that it mattered either, because that wasn’t what this was. It wasn’t just what this was, anyways. A desire sparked in his dark eyes, the kind she still had trouble recognizing and accepting being directed at her, but it was also nothing in comparison to the flare of concern shining there. It was a burning sympathy, a warm, aching understanding of what she had been through, and if she were honest, she should have expected nothing less. They hadn’t suffered in exactly the same ways, but they ran parallel to one another. He had no need to use words, nor to even use the connection of their tadpoles. The very question—the very recognition she just made towards the act of kneeling pulsed through the Weave that surrounded them, the magic they delighted in sharing with one another.

How many times?

The urge to turn away, to avert herself from his knowing stare and the vulnerability it caused, disintegrated the moment Gale started moving towards her. Nox stilled completely, her breath catching in her throat as he lowered himself onto one knee beside her and placed his hands on her arms. Gently, he assisted her back up to her feet and lightly caressed up and down her arms a few times before he refused to waste another moment. A warm hand cupped her cheek, and he leaned forward to press a sweet kiss to her mouth.

Any lingering negativity twisting in her gut vanished as she sighed into him. He took the opportunity, his hand sliding back to tangle in her hair and his tongue tracing over her lips in wordless question. Nox answered immediately, a small moan escaping her while her hands came up to grasp at the fabric of his shirt. Gale wrapped his free arms round her waist and pulled her closer, eagerly deepening the kiss…and she was gone. She melted into him, her legs nearly giving way while he explored her mouth and snuck his hand under the hem of her tunic to lightly trace down her spine.

It was easy to get lost in him, especially in these moments. No matter how passionate or sweet the kiss, his were always tinged with an almost desperate devotion, a burning, devouring need for her to see, to feel, to know just how far he would go for her. And no matter how insignificant or insecure she felt, no matter how exhausted she was or how hard she questioned herself…it always worked.

His adoration was unquestionable, occasionally she simply needed a reminder.

The need for air finally broke them apart, but he barely moved away from her. Still cradling the back of her head, his forehead rested on hers, his lips only a hair’s breadth away from her own. “I would have answered you in Elturel,” he spoke into the infinitesimal space between them, voice low and rough with laden emotion.

Before she could even consider his admittance, Gale kissed her again. She felt the weight of the words he just spoke still hanging heavily on his lips as they brushed over hers. “I would have answered you in Avernus,” he continued, speaking the words against her. His voice was still a low hum, rough and weighted and hushed as if he was speaking world-shattering secrets only she was to know.

Perhaps, in a way, he was.

Finally, Nox opened her eyes to look up at him, her surprise and wonder met with the most smoldering sincerity. “I would have answered you every time you asked during your travels of Candlekeep and Waterdeep and Baldur’s Gate,” he said, “I would have ensured you knew I was always at your side with every step you took. I would have ensured you never, never felt the need to question your own worth. I would have venerated you—”

His hand moved forward, cupping her cheek again, as a soft, adoring smile slipped onto his face and warmth pooled into his eyes. “—And when the time came…when the time may still come, I would make you my equal, you have never been anything less,” Gale decided easily, as if he was discussing meal options and not apotheosis. “We would stand side by side as we reshaped all that we know, all that we love, into something worthy of its potential,” he added, “We would finally make things better for mortals—for those who know our struggles intimately well.”

Nox let out a low, long breath, and she leaned forward to rest her head against his chest. Her eyes slowly closed again as she listened to the steady thrum of his heart beating and felt the mystical buzz of the Orb—the Karsite Weave—against her cheek, and truly considered his words. It was not a difficult task, given how many of her own words were entangled in the spaces of all he said and all he meant. How many times had she lamented the Gods’ obvious lack of care to much of mortal suffering during their journey? How many times had she besmirched the Gods for withholding their divine power from man? How many times had she claimed mortals would be better off without the divine?

And yet…the worst part was knowing that it was possible. Claiming the crown from the Absolute and reshaping the world into something they believed in would not be simple tasks by any means, but they were not impossible feats. In fact, they were hurtling towards both options being well within their grasps. But…she was not so sure it was a goal she desired anymore.

She was not so sure it was ever a goal she desired to begin with.

Attaining godhood had never been the option she considered when lodging her complaints. If anything, she wanted to see mortals free from the divine, not grasp the power herself. And now…she still had questions. She still took issue regarding many things, but Moonrise forced much of her perspective to shift. Hearing Selûne’s call again, watching Shadowheart turn away from all she knew in pursuit of something better with another deity, meeting Dame Aylin and witnessing what divine power…divine justice could do for a land so plagued by malice for so long…it complicated matters considerably. If nothing else, it altered her thoughts drastically and left her with an even more complex web to untangle in her mind regarding her emotions towards divinity.

That, however, was not necessarily the facet she needed to address. Not now at least…not yet. She still had time to weave her way through her tangled thoughts when there was another, far easier matter—far easier for her, at least—to discuss first. It was something she only understood recently they both struggled deeply with, how they both found that clawing insecurity lodged in their hearts when faced with each other, but now that she knew it existed in him just as readily as her, it was easy for her to read between the lines of how he spoke to her. How he spoke about her and all he wished he could do for her.

All things considered, it was really rather ironic.

“And I know you would have done all of that for me had you been around, regardless of godhood,” Nox finally murmured into his chest, “In spite of it, even.”

She paused, letting her words hang around them and waiting to see if he would respond to her. When he did not, she shifted enough to peer one eye up at him. The smile was gone from his face, but Gale was still watching her with an aching tenderness and now with an added look of curiosity.

“I have been…wondering, of late,” she admitted quietly, spurred on by his inquisitive gaze, “…I would swear apotheosis lays claim to what little may remain of a mortal before being deified. The Gods may wield their divine power, and I have lamented more than enough about all they keep from us, but I have often failed to consider what we have in their place.”

She cast her eyes downward as she considered and continued her thought, “There may be hundreds of worlds out there, but even the one at our fingertips is vast in its beauty. We are vast and beautiful in our capacity. We know and experience more than the divine could ever conceive. We are the ones who dream, who believe, who stop and wonder at the world around us. Hells, even our faith in the divine is something precious and beautiful they will never experience.”

Nox paused, smiling to herself as a blush tinted her pale cheeks. “And most importantly, what I have discovered most recently, is that we love.” She pulled away from him, just enough to view him and his shining eyes clearly. After a moment, she reached up with one hand to press it against his cheek. “All of that to say, I don’t need a god, Gale. I’ve never needed a god,” she whispered, “All I need is you.”

Her fingers settled over the veins curling up his cheek and delicately started tracing down the path towards the Orb in his chest. She pushed the cloth collar of his shirt out of the way and traced over the ring of the Orb itself before her hand settled, the tips of her fingers over the Karsite Weave and her palm over his heart. “I need the mortal man in front of me,” she confessed breathlessly, “The one with passion in his veins and devotion in his heart.”

Gale released a shuddering sigh, his eyes closing for a moment before one of his hands came up to rest over her own against his heart. “I could give you worlds, and you tell me this is enough,” he sighed, “You grace me with such words, such brilliant, exceptional joys…and most days, the mortal man before you does not feel worthy of you,” he admitted.

His tone was joking, his voice light and the small smile he gave her was playful, but she could see the lingering sadness masked in his eyes. The concern and the doubt he wasn’t enough, the fear that it would one day drive her away like it had before. They were surely the same emotions he had seen so readily reflected in her gaze countless times before. The same ones he assuaged with gentle reminders and light kisses.

She could return those easily.

“Then he needs to stop concerning himself with matters that are not his decide,” Nox said, her voice teasing to match his tone, but every word carrying nothing but sincerity. Her free hand snaked around his neck and she pulled him down for another kiss. His surprised breath fanned over her lips, and she smiled against him for a few moments before she pulled away.

“I alone determine what I am worth,” she breathed, “And I have decided that you, my dear Wizard of Waterdeep, are more than what even my wildest fantasies could ever bring to me, and are thus worth more than every last bit I could possibly give.”

She caught a flash of his beaming grin just before Gale wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, burying his face in her hair and murmuring, “And how I will wonder for the rest of my mortal time why fate decided to grant me such fortune.”

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 tav #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #gale x tav #tav x gale #time gremlin #nox is...a very special girl to me and an absolute disaster in this game #a distinctly different disaster to the one she is in her dnd campaign #it's fine she's fine she and gale are making each other better eventually #my writing #moon mage of elturel

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electricgoldtendercare · 2 years

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ONLY HAVE EYES FOR YOU PT. 2 || C.S ||

hiiiii, here’s part 2! i’m really excited for this part and hope you all enjoy! There will be probably one more part to this coming up soonish :) big thanks to my friend Lily for helping me out so much with this!! I’m so grateful for all the comments and notes on the first part, thank you to everyone who read and interacted with that!! 4.3k

part 1

warnings: SMUT (w pierre?) more angst, minors dni

It was close to time for movie night when you spot Luisa & Lando walking up to Carlos’ building. You hopped out of your car and quickly made your way over, ignoring the way they jumped when you got to the two of them. Both of them immediately noted your red eyes and running mascara, not giving them time to question it before you asked Lando if you could borrow Luisa. Taking her hand you pull her to the car while Lando heads upstairs.

Sitting in the car you stayed silent for a moment, Luisa letting you gather your thoughts by staying quiet as well. “Carlos has a girl over. Um, I came by earlier and they were together in his kitchen.” You admit with a shaky breath, unsure how there are even more tears welling up in your eyes. You feel Luisa take your hand, pulling you into a hug and apologizing as she let you cry into her shoulder. Upstairs, Lando stepped into Carlos’ apartment and made his way to the kitchen. He set the bags of snacks on the counter before looking up to see Carlos making his way inside. “Hey, Luisa will be up in a second. We ran into y/n on the way up and it seemed like something was wrong so they’re talking.” He explains, eyebrow raising as a girl follows Carlos into the room. It all made sense then, you looking like you had been crying and the fact that you weren’t upstairs helping Carlos get ready when you were always the first one there.

Carlos went to respond, immediately feeling worse hearing that you were downstairs and upset. He didn’t know the extent though and quickly pushed that thought away when he felt a hand on his lower back. “Lando, this is Melissa. She’s joining us for movie night tonight.” He glances up when he hears the door open and shut. Luisa had helped you touch up your makeup so you didn’t look like you had been crying nonstop. You could still tell but it was nowhere near how it was before. She had given you a pep talk in the car, promising that if it became too much she would leave early with you.

Taking a deep breath, you follow Luisa to the kitchen where the others were. Carlos immediately noticed your swollen eyes, wanting desperately to pull you aside and take care of you. You avoided his gaze, going up to the girl with him. “Hi, I’m so sorry about earlier! I’m y/n, you are?” You ask, a very convincing fake smile on your face to someone who doesn’t know you. “Hi, I’m Melissa. Carlos and I have gone out on a few dates.” She smiles, your eyes darting back and forth between the two of them. “A few? Wow, I mean, that’s so exciting. We’re really glad you’re here.” You smile, taking Luisa’s hand in yours and giving it a small squeeze. Luisa speaks up “Yes, it’s lovely to meet you. I’m Lando’s girlfriend, Luisa.” She says sweetly. You could feel Carlos’ eyes on you, trying to get your attention but you knew that in the state you were in, one look in his eyes would leave you in tears.

You managed to avoid him while all of your friends showed up, getting introduced to Melissa. You watched them look between you and them with confusion in their eyes. all the while trying to stay polite. Avoiding him didn’t last long though, feeling his hand take yours and pull you into one of the spare rooms. “Look y/n. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, uh, I wasn’t going to introduce you guys so soon..” He trails off, scratching the back of his neck. You nod slowly, sighing a bit to yourself. “Oh, don’t even worry about it. I guess it was just a surprise, but she seems really sweet.” You smile, rubbing your hands on your legs in a calming motion. “I’m really happy for you, Carlos. Truly.” You whispered, a sad smile on your face. “I hope she treats you really well, you guys are super cute together.”

Carlos could see the sadness in your eyes, unsure of what brought it on. He was debating bringing it up, asking you what was making you so sad. You didn’t give him the chance to even say anything though, leaving the room with that same fake smile on your face as you went to join everyone. You grabbed a drink, feeling the need for some sort of distraction. Looking around, you realized Pierre had arrived while you were in the other room. You thought back to the way he used to always flirt with you, assuming it stopped when the group started conspiring to get you and Carlos together.

An idea popped into your mind just then, not even pausing to think about the repercussions before waltzing over to Pierre. You placed a hand on his arm, grabbing his attention away from whoever he had been talking to. “Oh, y/n I wasn’t sure you were here.” He smiles, “Finally come to see me, yeah?” He smirks, french accent thick. You notice him look you over and that’s when you make your move, pulling him to the couch for the first movie. You sit down and pull him close to you, grabbing a blanket. “I might get scared in this movie, I hope you can keep me safe.” You pout, eyes staying on him. The tension in the room rises as Pierre puts an arm around you, pulling you closer. Your friends watch you with surprise apparent on their faces, watching you giggle with your face inches from his. Carlos had stepped into the living room as well, unable to hide the shock on his face seeing you cuddled so close to Pierre.

Had he missed something? Did you have feelings for Pierre? His stomach turned at the thought, unsure he would be able to sit through the night with someone else’s hands on you. That was until he realized he had started dating Melissa for a reason, to get over his crush on you. Taking a deep breath he leads her over to the chair, sitting close with her nearly in his lap. This whole interaction left everyone scratching their heads, feeling the awkwardness around you and Carlos sitting on separate couches and avoiding eye contact with each other.

_______

Things with Carlos had been weird since that night. Normally you’d have multiple nights a month where you usually stayed over, seeing him as much as both of your schedules allowed Now though you felt like you barely had energy to text him. You weren’t going to be the one to bring anything up either. In your mind, he had made his choice with Monica, or was it Melissa? You were sure she was sweet but you also had no desire to get to know her. Maybe in a little while, when the shock and pain from the situation wore off but right now it was all too fresh.

Luisa was there to help you distract yourself from the situation, but was also there to talk if needed. You couldn’t put into words how grateful you were for her as you processed everything. One thing that was somewhat new in your life was a newfound close friendship with Pierre. Despite being in the same group it never seemed to go beyond acquaintances with the two of you. Of course before that he was a flirt and maybe you had used him to make Carlos feel bad, but it was different now. You found yourself wanting to spend time with the man, texting him when you were specifically sad or lonely.

Luisa had warned you, told you not to try to replace Carlos with him but if he was the only one who was making you feel better, why not go with it? That’s how you found yourself in your apartment, nestled into Pierre’s side as a scary movie played on the tv. You tried to ignore the little voice in your head that reminded you who had originally shown you this movie, who had given you his sweatshirt and stayed up all night with you after you were too scared to go to sleep. No, you pushed those thoughts down deep inside until they were just mere glimpses of a memory.

Pierre’s arm wrapped around your shoulders, tangling in your hair while his other hand laid over his lap and yours, getting dangerously close to the inside of your thigh. You didn’t mind though, each touch from him only helped get Carlos’ touch out of your brain. Your fingers scratched over the scruff of his beard, only somewhat paying attention to the movie that was on the screen. Along with the general hard time you’ve been having lately, your sleep schedule was all fucked. You felt like when you slept all you seemed to dream about was Carlos with another girl. You had longed for that with him for so long that the idea of someone else being by his side haunted your nights. The idea brought on tossing and turning most nights until you finally gave up on getting some sleep.

You knew you could reach out to Carlos, that simply hearing his voice would put you at ease but you just couldn’t bring yourself to press send or go through with the call. You hadn’t counted but you’re sure you had spent hours just staring at his contact. To help you

get some sleep, you’d invite a friend over. Luisa, Pierre, Lily, sometimes even Mick would come stay in your extra bedroom every so often. You’d play it off as just a wanting some close time with your friends even though without fail, each of them would ask when the last time you talked with Carlos was. You avoided the subject like the plague, changing the topic every time. You wanted to say he hadn’t reached out to you, but you hadn’t reached out either.

You tried to focus on Pierre’s touch, finding the good feeling and chasing it. Soon you felt his face nuzzle into your neck, kissing ever so softly. You tilted your head to let him have access, no thoughts in your head besides the way his beard felt against your skin. All focus on the movie was gone as his hands reached to your waist to pull you onto his lap. Thoughts of Carlos tried to pry their way into your brain but each time you feel Pierre press your hips against his, almost like he knew who was sneaking into your brain.

The nights he was over usually ended here, when your brain overloaded with thoughts of Carlos and you ended things. Something changed tonight though and you didn’t want to stop. With only the light from the tv illuminating the two of you, you pulled away to admire Pierre. You had always thought he was handsome and only recently discovered what a good kisser he was. You played with the bottom of his shirt, slipping your hands underneath it and helping him pull his t-shirt off. Even in the lowlight he looked good and you were looking forward to where the night took you.

Your hands rested on his chest and his own wrapped around your wrists, raising an eyebrow up at you. “Are you sure, mon chère?” You appreciated his concern, knowing he was probably waiting for you to put an end to this like every other night. With only a nod, you leaned in and pressed your lips together. You gasped when you were quickly flipped and your back was against his chest. Curious to where this was going you felt Pierre’s lips back on your neck and his fingers play with the waistband of the sweats you were wearing.

“Tonight’s all about you, Je te voulais depuis si longtemps.” He mumbles against your skin, chuckling as your hips moved a bit so the sweatpants could be removed. The way he flipped back and forth from French to English drove you crazy and you needed something, any sort of relief from him. You gasped when you felt his fingers brush against your thighs, letting them fall open. Your head fell back onto his shoulder as he took his time with you.

Your hands settled on your thighs, fingertips no doubt leaving marks as you prepared for what was to come. When his long fingers finally slipped below the fabric you had already been so pent up just imagining how it felt. A loud moan left your mouth, drowning out whatever was playing on the tv and keeping his focus on you and you alone. “Barely even touched you, doll. Combien de temps s'est-il écoulé depuis que quelqu'un vous a touché comme ça ?”

His words went straight between your legs, sending a shiver up your spine. Your grasp on french wasn’t the best but he could be reciting the dictionary to you right now and you didn’t care. Tilting your head up you adjusted yourself so your lips pressed together, moaning into his mouth as he finally touched you where you needed him most. Shockwaves moved through your body as he played with your clit, fingers working you better than you could have imagined. “Oh my God, Pierre…Yes fuck.” You moan against his lips, pulling one hand up to tangle in the back of his hair. You felt a finger slip into you and with a gasp, your hips rolling down to feel him deeper. Pierre stopped his movements, shaking his head. “No, no. Stay still, mon ange.”

The whine that left your throat was pitiful and you felt Pierre’s chest shake with a laugh. “That needy for me?” He teases, continuing his movements. You nod slowly, looking up at Pierre with wide eyes. “It feels so good, Pierre. Feels…so fucking good.” You moan, focusing on keeping your hips still. Your hands tug at the hair on the back of his head trying to keep yourself from completely letting go from just his fingers. You weren’t sure when the last time you were with someone was, a certain person keeping your attention away from other men for quite some time. You shook the thought away, squeezing Pierre’s arm. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

Reluctantly, you leave Pierre’s lap, turning around to pull him up too. The second he’s on his feet, his lips are on yours and his hands roam down your body to settle on your ass. His mouth traces along your jaw, kissing and nibbling his way along your neck. His lips brush against your ear as he whispers “Jump”. Shivers run down your spine and your body obeys before you even have time to process what was happening. He carries you easily towards your bedroom, hands tightly gripping your thighs. You take a moment to admire his body, fingers brushing along his collarbone and up to his hair. Your fingers tangle in it and tug, earning a soft grunt from his lips. As he sets your down, you immediately sink to your knees, your hands tracing down his chest before reaching his waistband. Were you really going to do this? It ‘s not like you had anyone waiting for you, and the person you really wanted was with someone else. The frustration and hurt from the movie night spurring your next move. Staring up at him through your lashes, you helped him remove his sweatpants, licking your lips when you saw the outline of his cock through his boxers. Pulling them down his legs you wrapped your hand around his length and put the tip in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks as you press further down.

You feel his hands tangle in your hair and you let your hands fall down to grip his thighs. You relaxed your jaw, gazing expectantly up at him before Pierre started thrusting into your mouth, bringing tears to your eyes. You let him use your throat, tapping his thigh once it got to be too much. You knew you weren’t ready to have sex with Pierre but you were desperate to get off and help the man in front of you get off with you.

He helps you up, pressing your lips together as you pushed him back against the bed. You straddled his thigh, hovering over it before you sat yourself down. The pressure of his thigh against your bare core was overwhelming, nearly causing your eyes to roll back in pleasure already. Letting yourself settle, you slowly start to rut your hips, one hand gripping his shoulder. Your free hand moves to wrap around his cock, slowly starting to pump along with the movement of your hips. “Using me to get off, darling?” He asks, hands gripping your waist tight as he watches you closely. His eyes didn’t leave your body as you let your head fall against his, the pleasure overwhelming you. As you reached your high, you feel Pierre’s cum coat your stomach, chests rising and falling in time with each other. You stay quiet for a bit, trying to gain your composure and catch your breath.

Pierre helps you off his thigh, setting you down on the bed as he left to get a washcloth to clean up the two of you. In your post orgasm haze you let yourself imagine the night as if it had been with Carlos. You knew it wasn’t fair to Pierre but you couldn’t help but think about how Carlos would take care of you after you got off. You were brought back to the present when you felt the cold compress on your thighs. You look up and see Pierre watching you with a smirk, smiling back at him. “What?” You chuckle and he just shakes his head. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that with you, y/n.” Is all he says, leaving your cheeks tinted pink as the image of what you just did.

CARLOS POV

Carlos knew he had fucked up, royally. All he could see in his head for days was the look on your face when you saw Melissa with him in the kitchen. The pain in your eyes read more than just that of a hurt best friend, more so of pure heartbreak. He hadn’t planned on introducing the two of you to each other, ever. He had met Melissa at a press event and they had gone on a couple dates. There were no feelings past physical attraction to each other, at least on Carlos’ end. He never intended on it to go further than just a few dates, but one night he had too much to drink and had invited her over for movie night. That was his first mistake, his second was not immediately cancelling with her when he realized what he had done.

In finding a way to distract him from the feelings he had for you, he ended up losing you. He was too embarrassed, maybe too disappointed in himself to call, waiting for you to make the first move. He knew you wouldn’t, that it would need to be him who did but every time he went to call he worried things would end for good. He also knew the longer he waited to reach out would only hurt his cause. Especially now since Lando told him the nights the girls weren’t with you, you were having Pierre over. If he thought about it too much it made him sick to his stomach, even if he knew he had no right to feel that way. He kept imagining you and Pierre doing the things the two of you used to do together.

He couldn’t help but picture Pierre being there to see the little faces you made when you were watching a movie, or the way you’d make little comments over and over until he’d give you his hoodie. He imagined you telling him about your skincare the same way you had taught Carlos one night. He had to stop his anger from boiling over at the image of you in Pierre’s clothes and not his, Pierre making you laugh when he wasn’t there to. He was brought back down to Earth when a pair of fingers snapped in front of his face, bringing his attention to the people in front of him. He was on a double date with Lando & Luisa, after Lando kindly but stupidly invited Carlos & Melissa out before you had a chance to break it off with her.

At certain times he felt bad, Melissa was a nice girl but he found himself zoning out whenever he was around her. Even before things had took a turn for the worse with y/n, she wasn’t the distraction that Carlos had been looking for. It didn’t take long to come to the realization that you weren’t someone he’d be able to forget. Grateful that Lando was able to keep any sort of conversation going, Carlos didn’t need to focus too hard on what was happening around him. He thought about asking Luisa how you were, wanting to know so badly. He knew what Luisa would say too, that he could easily message you and ask you himself.

He knew she was right but how could he possibly admit that without admitting how embarrassed he was that he hadn’t yet? It was so easy to just send a text, or make a call but he was unable to do either. He had seen your name light up her screen a few times but didn’t get a good look. He tried to get a peek at the screen but Luisa caught on pretty quick, turning her phone over and giving him a stern look. “Did you hear that, Carlos? I was thinking I could come to your next race! Maybe I’ll be a good luck charm.” Melissa giggled, but Carlos could barely muster up a fake laugh. There was no one else besides you that he wanted to support him.

Nodding slowly, Carlos shrugs “Yeah, yeah maybe. I think our next race is pretty far away so..” Any excuse he could get, even if everyone else at the table knew that the next race was a short drive away from where they were currently. Entrees were brought to the table, glasses of wine being filled up as well. Thankful for the distraction from any sort of conversation, Carlos focused on his dinner. It brought him back to a specific memory from a couple months prior.

The group had a make your own pizza night at Charles’ apartment. Of course everyone chose to make their own pizza, but you and Carlos had opted to combine yours. George took one glance at it and called it ‘Mega-pizza.’ Normally a little comment like that wouldn’t have such an impact but Carlos remembers the way your face lit up when he had said it and the first of giggles you had broken into afterwards. All he could think of was how beautiful you were and if he could only make you laugh like that all the time he would be content.

It wasn’t until he heard Lando’s sorry attempt at being quiet that he noticed the lag in conversation that resulted from his daydreaming. “How did y/n’s date go with Pierre?” He had asked Luisa, as quiet as he was able to manage. Carlos looked away before the two of them glanced at him. “I was just going to text her and ask.” She whispers back, hoping Carlos hadn’t heard a thing but his interest was peaked. His mind was running a million miles a minute, trying to process the information that he had just heard. He hoped he misheard but when he glanced over he was able to read your name on Luisa’s phone he knew he hadn’t.

From his spot he was able to see that Luisa did in fact ask how your date with Pierre went and you were now typing back. Of course he knew you and Pierre had been spending time together but a date? The jealousy was causing a pit to form in his stomach and Carlos was ready to bail on the date right then and there. Running through a list of excuses, he saw a text come in on Luisa’s phone and he knew he couldn’t leave.

‘Luisa it’s been so good! We had dinner, watched this random scary movie…’

‘Along with some other things…’

Carlos hoped his face didn’t show how uncomfortable he felt. Other things? He racked his brain trying to come up with ideas of things that she could have meant. Other things didn’t necessarily have to mean the first thing he thought of. It was naive to think, he knew that. If he could just avoid peeking over at Luisa’s phone for the rest of the night he could keep his mind from wandering to somewhere he did not want it to go. He didn’t bother to read Luisa’s reply but after a few moments when the table vibrated he couldn’t help but glance at the screen and read your reply before he was able to stop himself.

‘TELL. ME. EVERYTHING!!!!’

‘Can I call you later? We’re going to finish our movie but once he’s asleep I’ll tell you! Basically, my dry spell finally ended? And it was SO good.’

Carlos had picked the wrong time to take a drink, reading those words and immediately coughing up his water. Everyone at the table looked over at him, Melissa’s hand moving to his back to pat it gently. “You okay?” No, he was far from it but he puts a fake smile on and nods “Yeah, no I’m good. Just pretty tired.” He lied, excusing himself from the table to head outside. He leans against a wall, letting the cold air rush around him as the image of you and Pierre filled his vision and brought an ache to his chest.

#f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #carlos sainz #carlos sainz f1 #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz jr x you #carlos sainz blurb

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vaniloqu3nce · 1 year

Text

The word count for the Spiderman Au so far (Chapter 1)!

Chapter one is FINISHED and should be posted soonish (Waiting on my account on ao3 to be approved). Definitely by Sunday. I’m working through chapter two slowly rn. This is my first fanfiction and definitely my biggest public writing project yet. I’m super excited. Here is a little snippet.

WC: 1418

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Not thinking about Wednesday Addams had lasted an hour. Now, it was all Enid could think about, tapping her nails against the desk until she finally caved and her hand shot up. “Can I use the bathroom?” Once the teacher nodded, Enid quickly excused herself and then immediately began her journey towards the infirmary wing. The gray clouds that rested atop Nevermore like a crown had finally decided to overflow onto the grounds, rain steadily poured down onto Enid as she stepped outside, groaning in irritation. She hated wet clothes. Part of Enid wanted to go back inside, and another, more heroic part of her, reminded Enid that she couldn’t call herself a hero if she just let her roommate sit there without checking on her.

The werewolf swallowed her irritation and shoved down the urge to shake all the water off her body because that’s embarrassing, and sped towards the infirmary with quick steps. It was at moments like these Enid wishes she could be Spider-Wolf all the time, what she wouldn’t kill to swing across campus instead of walk.

Luckily, Enid didn’t have to walk far, she spotted Wednesday trudging along with her umbrella. Enid takes a moment to access. No blood, she’s walking, she looks as stabby as usual, a sniff lets Enid know she’s not bleeding profusely, but there is a bandage on her forehead that smells faintly of blood and medical alcohol. Wednesday is fine. A quiet sigh of relief left Enid’s lip, prepared to turn around without saying a word until her spidey-sense went off like a siren. The gargoyle above where Wednesday was walking had begun to tip, rattling and shaking as it slid towards the ledge. Enid sprang forth in an instant, she can’t use her webs in public, acting on pure instinct (saving people is what she does!). Wednesday looks up and Enid swears she sees the psychic’s lips twitch upwards. There isn’t any time to think about that though, Wednesday’s body tumbles out the way with Enid landing next to her. The shattering of the stone figure next to the spot the Addams once stood splinters debris everywhere.

Enid sits up fast, wrenching away from her roommate once she realized they were making contact Wednesday hadn’t consented to. The taller girl was honestly surprised she hadn’t ended up with a knife in her stomach for touching Wednesday. “Are you trying to die?” the werewolf snaps, only to realize Wednesday isn’t responding or moving, or opening her eyes!

This revelation unloaded a fresh wave of panic onto Enid. “Oh fuck I killed her!” Enid hopped to her feet, scooping a limp Wednesday up in her arms and speeding off to the infirmary. Figures she had come here to check up on Wednesday and ended up knocking her out! Way to fucking go End, some hero you are. “Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.”

Wednesday isn’t dead. The nurse delivers the news just in time to keep Enid from bursting into tears. She cannot handle that kind of stress and guilt! The nurse thankfully calls her teacher to let them know she is staying in the infirmary with a hurt ‘friend’ (Enid would hardly call them that). One of the perks about living in the education building is that the teachers are pretty lenient with certain things.

So, the colorful girl sits in the infirmary, watching Wednesday sleep with her arms crossed from a chair she had pulled up. It was entirely quiet, Enid doesn’t like it. She tapped at her thighs, made rhythmic noises with her shoes against the floor, and squirmed in place until eventually boredom turned into exhaustion. Enid had just begun nodding off when Wednesday suddenly sat up, which made Enid jerk and open her eyes wide. They meet each other’s gaze, Enid was learning Wednesday wasn’t the type to shy away from eye contact, Neither was Enid, usually. But Wednesday’s eyes were particularly…Enid isn’t sure. She just knows she looks at her lap after five seconds. Wednesday doesn’t say anything. Enid hates the quiet. “You’re okay.” Enid chirps eventually. Now, she wasn’t sure what to say. When she made plans to come here, she was going to just ask the nurse if Wednesday was okay.

Now she’s here. How the hell did she get here?

“The nurse said you don’t have a concussion.” The hybrid speaks with her hands, “But you’ll probably want to ice that bump. I’m sorry...” Nervous and awkward laughter followed. “Do you remember what happened?” The nurse says Wednesday doesn’t have a concussion but what about amnesia. Oh gods, she’d never forgive herself!

“The last thing I remember,” Wednesday starts, and her words draw Enid in. Wednesday spoke so little that Enid felt like everything she should be heard. The shorter girl’s body turned stiffly, facing the blonde and she didn't look away. Enid reasons that there is nothing else for her to look at. “I was walking outside, feeling a mixture of rage, pity, and self disgust. I’ve never felt that way before.”

Enid has to clench her fists to keep her face straight. She wants to laugh at that, because Wednesday’s delivery was perfect. Whatever Enid had been expecting to come out Wednesday’s mouth before it had opened, the goth always surprised her with something completely different. Enid didn’t want to seem rude, nor did she want to dissuade Wednesday from…whatever this was. Their civil conversation. So, she settles for smiling. “Yeah,” Enid mutters, thinking of the poe cup, thinking of Bianca’s name posted at the top of the class last year and the year before that. “Losing to Bianca does that. Trust me.” Enid can feel herself frown, but she shrugs it off. “Nothing a little ice cream and laughing at Riverdale can’t fix.”

Wednesday narrows her eyes, as if to say ‘That is the worst thing you could have said.’ “I don’t know what that is.” Enid opens her mouth. “And I don’t want to find out.” Enid closes her mouth. This almost felt playful. Enid wasn’t sure. Just this morning she was so sure her roommate didn’t want to ever speak to her, hell, just yesterday she wanted to scream at Wednesday, now she found the girl’s antics amusing.

Wednesday Addams is so confusing.

“Then,” Wednesday continues, “I looked up and saw that gargoyle coming down and I thought, at least I’ll have an imaginative death.” The slightest spark of delight that crosses her face, before she looks at Enid through her eyebrows, displeased, Enid assumes. “Then you tackled me out of the way.”

“Is that why you were fucking smiling?” The mutant hisses, throwing her hands up. She wants to say she’s surprised, but she’s not. “You are so weird.”

Wednesday’s face doesn’t change. “I feel the same way about you. Why?”

“Why?” Enid repeats, frowning.

“Why did you save me?” Enid stiffens.

It’s a good question. Why did Enid save her? Especially when all Enid had done last night was complain about Wednesday to Yoko.

The fact is, Enid can’t help it. Enid hates that Wednesday ruined the window, she hates how rude Wednesday is, and she hates that the other girl doesn’t seem to consider anyone else before acting. But Enid hates fighting with someone even more, Enid hates making enemies (surprising as a superhero, she knows), Enid hates being alone. “Because…we’re roommates. Instinct.” It wasn’t a lie, Enid’s instinct was to save Wednesday. She didn’t need to think about it, not their fight, not her distaste for the girl. When someone is in trouble, Enid wants to help. It’s that simple. If she can help, she will help.

“So you have attachment issues and chose to inflict them onto me?”

Enid’s face burns. Wednesday Addams is impossible. “Is everything you say an insult?” she grunts.

Wednesday looks her over once. “I don’t need to insult you.”

And like that, Enid wants to throw a gargoyle at Wednesday herself. “Oh my god, I save your life–”

Wednesday cuts her off. “I didn’t want to be rescued.”

Enid stands up fast, staring down at Wednesday with fire in her eyes. “So I should’ve just let that thing flatten you?”

“I would have rather saved myself.”

Stubborn. Enid thought to herself angrily, rolling her eyes and taking a deep breath. “The nurse says I have to walk you–” But Wednesday is already up, her feet carrying her towards the door and leaving a gaping Enid to scramble behind. “I’m fine. Leave me alone.” Enid stops. She watches Wednesday walk away with a frown fixed on her face.

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