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mynamesaplant · 4 months

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Forgiveness is Electric

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Just a little short story about @critterbitter's hc of Emmet, Ingo, and Elesa. This is between the Volume Control and Volume Control (Reprise). Just a tiny change, Emmet caught Tynamo bc I sort of forgot when he did... My bad. Please go take a look at Critter's work, it is beautiful in every sense of the word.

I lied about posting to AO3 last time with Yearning for Wood Floors, but I will update that soon along with this one.

Enjoy!~

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“I do not think she will like those.”

“Who doesn’t love sweets?”

Ingo argued, plucking a box of Snom-Caps and turning it over and over in his hands. He contemplated the choices of candy in the aisle, the teenage clerk puffing their long, purple-streaked hair from their eyes behind the counter as the two children agonized over their decision. The clerk, Dakota, saw Ingo and Emmet in here all the time, the former had something of a sweet tooth and the latter… Well, whatever the opposite of a sweet tooth was, that was Emmet. The kid just loved sour things.

It wasn’t unusual to see them, but it didn’t usually take this long for them to make their selection. They had been there for nearly fifteen minutes, painstakingly reading each and every label and discussing them in hushed undertones. That was unusual by itself. Ingo was not known for his volume control.

Although unusual, they weren’t worried about them doing anything shady like stealing or being careless and knock things off the shelf. Might as well let them go about their business. To pass the time, they watched the fretful newly acquired Tynamo circle around them faster and faster until Emmet snatched the Pokémon deftly from the air and soothingly stroked its back.

“I am Emmet. We do not know what she likes.”

“We must do something! I just feel so dreadful.”

Emmet could see Ingo working himself up over this, just as he had a few hours ago, and Emmet placed a reassuring hand on his brother’s arm. His smile and eyes softened as his twin turned to him, Ingo’s eyes glittering with emotion and whatever proclamation dying on the back of his tongue.

He hadn’t meant it. He really hadn’t. He always got too loud when he was excited.

It had just backfired on him horribly.

Ingo cringed even now as he remembered the tears in her eyes, her hands slapped over her ears, and eyes huge with confusion and pain. She had run off before he could even apologize, and that knowledge was eating him alive all day.

Candy wouldn’t fix this. In his heart of hearts, he knew that, and maybe he had come here to grab himself some of his favorite snacks to ease the pain of losing a potential friend.

It was hard for them to understand others. Emmet and Ingo were so in-sync with each other that everyone seemed to be moving so much slower by comparison. It was like playing charades with someone who was underwater, the twins made perfect sense to one another, but it was unclear to everyone else.

This was not new to them, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating.

With their moms being busy with work and their uncle who didn’t have much interest with them most times, Emmet and Ingo came to rely on each other almost exclusively. Drayden would give them a little bit of pocket change, but never much. They had to be ultraconservative with what he gave them and had taken it upon themselves to run around Anville Town to take little odd jobs.

Leaves to rake? Oran berries to pick? Snow to shovel?

Emmet and Ingo did it all and saved what they could. They barely scraped together the money to purchase the Pokéballs needed to catch Tynamo and for additional balls to try and catch Ingo a starter.

Even though they knew everyone, they weren’t really close to anyone in town.

That could have been different if Ingo hadn’t ruined everything!

“Perhaps sweets are not the solution…”

Ingo finally admitted, setting the box down and rising to his feet. Readjusting his cap on his head and dusting off his knees to unconsciously tidy his appearance, Ingo’s frown deepened in thought. Even if he and Emmet apologized to her, Miss Elesa would not understand them. Drat! If only he had remembered her hearing aids, he had completely forgotten them tucked behind her black hair.

Emmet watched his face scrunch up, clearly having a long inner dialogue with himself where he alternatively berated himself and told himself that there was no crying over spilled milk. Gray eyes scanning the shelf, he took a bag of sour gummy-Bewear for himself, and chocolate covered pretzels for his brother, before hauling them to the counter where Dakota waited.

Tynamo drifted just below his elbow, still quite nervous around new people and often retreating to its ball when too anxious. Emmet’s soft encouragement was the only thing keeping the EleFish out while Dakota rang up both bags.

“Tynamo? Good for you, kiddo. I hear they’re not easy to catch.”

They rested their elbows on the counter, chin resting atop with a kind smile to the quieter twin. Dakota could see him beaming with pride, but he merely nodded, shuffling on the spot while he fished in the pocket of his overalls for some money. His Tynamo, like its trainer, seemed a little bashful at their words, and retreated into its ball.

“200… I think you brother is comatose over there.”

Dakota said not unkindly. Emmet jerked his head to where his brother stood motionless in front of the candy.

“Ingo!”

It was Ingo’s turn to jerk out of his, as Dakota had put it, “comatose state”. He trotted over to his side, staring at the bags of candies with confusion before it all seemed to click into place.

“You did not have to spend your pocket money on me.”

Emmet’s smile softened at the bashful note in his sibling’s voice. He wanted to. Ingo was feeling down, his twin often overthinking problems and burning himself out in the process. Emmet liked to take a step back to listen and reflect on people and conversations. A little break would do Ingo some good, so he insisted on the treats.

“I am Emmet. I wanted to. Yup!”

While Dakota bagged their treats in a small brown paper bag, they couldn’t help but lean over the counter to examine them. Although many people didn’t understand the secret code that the twins exchanged between glances, mouth twitches, and hand movements, Dakota could tell something was awry. Withholding the bag, they leaned over the counter with a faintly curious expression and a light tone.

“You guys alright?”

Unsurprisingly, the two exchanged looks, and a wordless conversation was held between them while Dakota waited. It was Ingo who swiveled his head back to face them, his face knit into a calculating grimace that seemed a little less friendly than usual, but only marginally.

“Yes,” he said slowly, eyes not breaking with the clerk, but they could see him shifting uncomfortably. “Emmet and I are attempting to right a wrong. However, we are encountering several roadblocks.”

There is a pause. Dakota still held the bag just out of reach as they gnawed on their lower lip. This wasn’t really their business, and they weren’t the type to stick their nose in where it didn’t belong… They thought of Drayden, who spent a lot of time in Opelucid and not watching his nephews – he barely spent any time with them.

They’re just kids.

“Do you need some help? It’s my job to help customers in the store y’know.”

Another pause. Another exchange of glances.

“I-” Ingo tries to being, already hard pressed to say anything and even less so when his sibling elbowed him in the ribs and shot him a look. He wouldn’t be allowed to take all the blame. “We upset one of our classmates with our carelessness. We think she was attempting to befriend us, but- uh… there were a few errors on our part.”

“And you’re trying to get candy for her to forgive you?”

“We thought about it, but it grew too complicated. We do not know what candy she likes, but more importantly, we do not think it’s a suitable apology.”

The clerk nodded, tapping the counter in thought as they tried to piece together some genuine advice for the boys.

“I think it’s a nice peace offering, but I think an apology would be better.”

“We broke her hearing aids… Yep…”

Emmet croaked suddenly, shrinking back in shame at the same time that Ingo grabbed the brim of his hat to tug it lower over his eyes.

“Ah,” Dakota hummed, tapping the counter even faster. They meant the new family that moved in from Sinnoh. They remembered their dads talking about the new signs that had to go all over town for the girl’s safety. Dakota couldn’t remember her name. “How did you break them?” They asked, already knowing the answer.

“Volume control.”

Ingo cringed, remembering his uncle’s warning about his naturally loud voice. Inside voice, Drayden had been emphasizing, and Ingo was trying to take those words to heart, but it was difficult. Since Ingo’s face didn’t emote well, he relied on his voice and his movement to articulate his emotions to others. They nod sympathetically.

“You didn’t see them?”

“No…”

The boy was squirming now, his shame and embarrassment with the situation reaching an all-time high. He felt Emmet moving to his side, reassuringly pressing against his arm, and resting his head on his twin’s shoulder. A flood of comfort helped Ingo release a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.

Behind the counter, the clerk was rummaging through something – although tall for their age, Emmet and Ingo couldn’t see what they were doing. They heaved a box onto the counter, tipping it so the contents spilled out for them to see, and the boys were confused.

“Headphones?”

Emmet leaned forward on his tiptoes to look at the colorful array of boxes that ranged from normal headphones to ones that had Pikachu and Eevee ears topping them.

“Yeah, uh, maybe if she wears these, you’ll remember right away that she has headphones in.”

It was a half-baked idea. In truth, Dakota felt a bit sheepish about it now that the idea was out of their head, but when they looked up, the boys were beaming – well, Emmet beamed. Ingo reminded of them of their friend’s Purrloin in a way they couldn’t quite put their finger on.

“Bravo! What a marvelous suggestion!”

Ingo practically cheered, stepping beside Emmet to look through the headphones. It was probably going to cost them a bit from the tags on the boxes, but it would be worth it. The headphones would immediately remind Ingo that she had hearing aids in so he would be more inclined to get Miss Elesa’s attention in a different fashion, but it also might do the same for others who were unaware of her deafness.

“Sure – er, thank you…” Dakota was looking at the prices now and mentally smacked their forehead. They probably couldn’t afford the headphones. “I’ll-” They hesitate. It almost pained them to say what they were going to next. “I’ll pay for them so you can take them to her now.” The twins’ eyes went wide, both about to protest when Dakota interrupted, “In exchange, you can do a few chores for me at my place. I need to do some yardwork, but it always gives me hay fever. Sound like a deal?”

The answer was easy for them. Dakota told them to pick ones that they thought Miss Elesa would like.

“I think these ones are quite dashing.”

Ingo said, picking up the box with the Pikachu ears. Emmet pursed his lips and shook his head.

“Nope. Too big. Not a gamer girl.”

They continued to rummage through the boxes. They agreed that she must like Electric types. She had a Blitzle as her partner after all.

“I cannot recall, she is from Hoenn, correct?”

Emmet shrugged, unsure himself because they had both been looking through a magazine with an expose on the newest train lines running out of Nimbasa when she had been introduced. That just meant to them that, when the time came, going on their Pokémon journey by rail would be all the easier.

“Not sure.” He looked at the box Ingo had in his hand and his smile broadened, nodding in agreement to his brother’s unasked query. The perfect balance of subtle but stylish. “I am Emmet. Those are perfect.”

Plusle and Minun headphones.

#pokemon #submas #fan fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fic #sorry critter #i started writing about Tynamo before i remembered he probably didn't have it by that point #im just gonna say newly acquired and cross my fingers #tynamo is shy #nobody knows about it #🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞

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bluejutdae · 2 months

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• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Jisung x you

genre: friends to lovers, romance

warnings: none

The guy is boring, misogynistic and keeps talking about his job like it’s the best thing in the world. He’s a banker, for fuck’s sake. How exciting can it be?

What did Hannie mean with “play along”? You smile thinking about your best friend. You have been friends for years now, and you’re convinced he’s your soulmate. Maybe he feels the same, but he’s unyielding in his idea of needing to be alone, to only focus on his career and not let romance distract him. You love him, but who are you to try to convince him he’s wrong? So you keep your feelings in line and don’t let them overflow.

“Oh, my love, please forgive me! I know I made a mistake but take me back!” A loud voice interrupts the umpteenth story about bankers. Jisung is in the restaurant now, hands clasping over his heart and his big boba eyes on you. “I can’t lose you, you’re the best thing in my life.”

Oh, so this is what he meant by “play along”?

“Sung”, you start. In a very dramatic manner, he interrupts you, a finger on your lips and unshed tears in his eyes.

“No, don’t talk. Hear me for a moment, I have to ask you this, even if it’s the last thing I get to say to you”.

You repress the instinct to roll your eyes. To your right you can hear a confused “what the fuck is happening?”. Jisung’s voice is loud again, tho, and he’s suddenly on his knee, looking up at you with a teary smile. “My love, would you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” He has a ring in his hand. Where the fuck did he find a ring? Does he go around with an engagement ring in his pockets? Well, this is your best friend. And he’s fucking crazy.

You almost throw the napkin on the plate and get on your knees in front of Jisung. “Yes, yes, of course!” The smile on your lips is one of amusement, but for everyone is the smile of a newly engaged girl.

A round of applause fills the room and soon there’s a chanting of ‘kiss, kiss, kiss’.

The thing is: Han didn’t think this through. Did he stop at a street vendor's stall to buy the prettiest (fake) ring for this? Yes. Did he plan this whole farce in his head to have fun? Also yes. Did he put his fingers in his eyes so he would tear up? Sadly, yes. Did he stop for a second thinking about the fact that newly engaged couples kiss? No.

Jisung looks at you with comically large eyes and his mouth slightly agape and you take pity on him. Suppressing your laughter, you cradle his face into your hand and kiss him. It’s just a simple peck: your lips on his soft, pretty lips; your hand covers the most of the kiss from the guy you had a date with, but it’s the least of your worries now.

It’s just a simple kiss, chaste and functional to the farce, but it’s something you’ve dreamt for a while. The minutes following are a blur in your mind: you left your share of money on the table, apologized quickly to your date and grabbed your coat, leaving the restaurant hand in hand with Jisung.

You’re running on the empty sidewalk, still holding hands, laughing loudly when it starts to snow. It’s so intense and so beautiful, you both go quiet and stop. You love the snow falling: it’s so peaceful and beautiful, the snowflakes dancing in the hair, light and frozen. Seen from the outside, you’re just another couple holding hands in the streets, looking at the snow falling. For a moment alone, you let yourself daydream.

You let yourself imagine it’s real, that you’re a couple holding hands and walking home where you’ll get cozy on the couch, under a blanket, to watch the snow from the window. You’ll kiss again, you’ll make love, you’ll live your lives together and you’ll love each other forever. God, you’re so dumb. Why are you hurting yourself like this, now? It was just a fake kiss.

“So… we kissed.” Han says in a low voice. You can sense he’s looking at you, but you’re not ready yet to look at him and break the calm bubble you created around yourself.

“It wasn’t a real kiss.” It can’t be. Otherwise you kissed your best friend, who you’re in love with, and if it’s true then you can already see the floodgates crack under the pressure.

“It was for me.” The air is cold and it’s freezing your nose, but the shock of his words makes you forget all that.

“Uh- what?”

“The kiss. It was real for me. I know it wasn’t a big kiss but it was real. And I’ve thought about kissing you millions of times but this time it wasn’t a dream and it was real and I don’t think I can go back to when we hadn’t kiss and I don’t wanna ruin our friendship but now I know how your lips feel on mine and-“ he stops and takes a deep breath, looking down at his shoes.

“I’m sorry. I- I don’t really know what to say.”

“Do you really think it wasn't a real kiss? Does it… does it really mean nothing to you?” He asks, and you’re not sure why but you can feel your heart aching. Why does it feel like you’re rejecting him? He’s the one who doesn’t want a relationship, he’s the one who banned love from his life. And you tell him so.

“You said there was no place for anything that wasn’t work in your life.”

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

He turns completely towards you and you can barely see the redness on his round cheeks, but it’s there. “Before you kissed me and suddenly I realized how stupid I’ve been all this time. I know you’re the perfect girl for me, but I was too convinced I couldn’t handle a relationship. But why do I have to deprive myself of something I know would be good?”

“Don’t do that, Hannie. Don’t say this if you’re gonna change your mind later. You’ve repeated the same thing for years, and now suddenly you want more?” You can endure the idea of just being friends even if you’re in love with him, but you won’t let yourself get too hurt. And you’ll get hurt if he wants something now that he’ll change his mind about later.

“I’ve always wanted more. But I didn’t realize exactly how much I was giving up!”

“Tomorrow, you’ll change your mind.”

“I won’t.” Jisung lounges and grabs your hand. When did you let go of each other’s hand?

“You say that now, but tomorrow or in a week, you’ll be tired and stressed over work and you’ll decide you don’t want another commitment…” You feel like an asshole, but you’re just trying to protect yourself from an even worse heartbreak. His face shifts, and you remember that it’s your best friend the one you’re talking to, that no matter what he’ll always love and protect you from harm.

“Do you trust me?” You nod, fingers squeezing his.

“Then trust me I won’t change my mind. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” You bite the inside of your cheek, considering his words.

“I want more. I want to be able to kiss you everyday, I want to be able to call you my girlfriend. I want to be by your side on the days I’m stressed and on those I’m happy. I want to be by your side anytime you’ll let me.”

“Promise me you won’t regret it.” How can you say no to him? You’re scared he’ll break your heart, but it’s true he never broke a promise.

“I won’t regret it.” Again, it’s you who kisses him. This kiss is nothing like the previous: it’s hot and his lips are immediately moving under yours. You can feel his breath on your lips and it’s a heady feeling and you want more and more and more.

You want to know what he tastes like and how his tongue feels on yours, so you’re quick to prod at his lips, demanding entrance and licking into his mouth. The sounds Jisung makes are the best sounds you’ve ever heard, and all your worries dissipate.

Kissing your best friend under the snow wasn’t how you expected the night to go, but you’re not gonna complain…

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #bluejutdae #skz #jisung x you #jisung x reader #jisung fluff #jisung fanfic #jisung texts

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via-l0ve · 8 months

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Dating Carlisle Cullen HCs!

a/n: was the requested? absolutely not. am i a slut for daddy cullen? abso-fuckin-lutley

warnings: fluff, smut, swearing, im lowkey an edward hater in this i’m sorry, smut is fem!reader based!! dating daddy carlisle

- when you guys hang out at night /alone he’s all over you

- he holds you, lays on your chest, plays with your hair while you sit inbetween his legs SHSSUWHEISN

- he plays with your fingers while you guys are around other people and he gets a little nervous

- like if your hanging out with friends he’ll play with your fingers and hands, twist around your bracelets and rings

- i love him he’s so soft

- he desperately tries to stop you from popping pimples and blackheads

- “y/n sTOP”

- sometimes you’ll laugh at stuff he says bc it sounds so old fashioned

- he attempts to make you food and most of the time it’s amazing but usually when you two cook it almost always ends up burnt or undercooked or missing an ingredient

- bc he gets distracted by your stupid jokes that sometimes result in a food fight

- carlisle would do anything for you

- literally one time you brought up wanting to go to disneyland because they do a mardi gras parade and he almost bought plane tickets right then and there

- “what’re you doing?”

- “buying plane tickets.”

- “what??? STOP-“

- he loves how you hate when he spends money on you

- it makes him want to do it more

- you both have multiple matching things

- bracelets, rings, necklaces, etc

- he bought you this EXPENSIVE bracelet once and you almost passed out on the spot

- it has your and carlisle’s initials engraved into it and it’s your favorite color

- he lets you paint his nails frequently

- he loves when you do little designs on them too

- he loves being the person you feel comfortable ranting to

- it breaks his heart when he opens his door and sees you with puffy eyes and a red nose, tears reminiscent on your face

- he lets you in and picks you up, speeding you to his bedroom

- he grabs you a big t-shirt and a pair of his boxers and tells you to shower or change before talking about it

- and then after that he does whatever you want

- sometimes he’ll comb your hair while you rant to him, or make you some tea on the kitchen island while you talk to him about what happened

- he’d totally sit you on the counter and cut up + feed you fruit and clean the juice from your chin. im sobbing

- 100% takes care of your stuffed animals

- he would love how you bond with his “kids”

- you and emmett would totally play horror games together

- emmett and you are this clip:

https://youtube.com/clip/UgkxJdszrIKDCtmfnyVLdhVwf2sGqLcJ6NBU

- honestly either of you could be rhett/link and it would still make sense

- you lowkey make fun of edward ngl

- i feel like he plays games with you and emmett too and he sucks ass

- carlisle looses his shit when he hears you make a gooddamn good roast of him and you can hear him laughing from upstairs

- alice constantly tries to buy you clothes she thinks not only you, but also carlisle would like

- Rosalie would confide in you a lot

- tbh it took her a hot minute to warm up to you but when she saw how happy carlisle was with you she gave you a chance

- jasper loves you tbh

- he games w/ u and emmett and you guys kick ass in rocket league

- sometimes Carlisle will just stare at you for no reason

- you’ll catch him and he won’t break eye contact and you get all flustered and look away

- and proceed to look back to see him still staring

- “what’re you looking at?”

- “just you. :)”

- “okay but why”

- “youre beautiful.”

- “get a room!” ~ emmett

- reminds your to take ur medication

- after meeting your family, he’s always down to babysit with you or go to family reunions or vacations

- if it’s a sunny place he’ll just busy himself with work inside

- always liking ur instagram posts

- he always comments on them too

- just a simple “i love you” or “gorgeous🩷”

——— smut time

- respect and consent king

- wouldn’t dream of hurting you/degrading you ever

- he loves tits. sorry not sorry it’s true

- he’ll play w/ ur nipples and leave hickeys on ur boobs

- fucking looses it when you moan his name

- like, if you do that he’s giving you literally everything he has

- his fav position is missionary or when you ride him but you face him

- specifically if he’s sitting in his office chair and you get ontop of him and-

- makes your legs SHAKE

- he has his hands on your hips while you ride him bc that’s hot

- literally adores your body

- he couldn’t care less of your stomach pokes out or if you have love handles or stretch marks

- he loves you for you

- PRAISE

- this man loves to make you blush and he knows exactly how to do it in bed

- master at giving you head

- literally knows exactly what to do and how you like it done

- fucking dies when you ride his face

- like it’s not a thing that he wants he NEEDS it

- he pays attention to your body movements and how you react to certain things

- he’s the typa guy to get on his knees and eat you out

- tongue around ur clit and fingers inside you pumping in and out and moving around inside to touch your g-spot

#love u mwah #im in love with this man #twilight #carlisle x reader #carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle #carlisle cullen #twilight imagine #twilight headcanon #twilight x reader #carlisle cullen smut #carlisle cullen fluff

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 9 months

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Overprotective!Yandere X GN!Reader

Women in the office gawked at Theo as he walked by, shamelessly refusing to peel their eyes from the Adonis who walked among them. With dark wavy hair that framed his beauty mark speckled face and droopy emerald eyes always set into a warm smile, he was model material, yet refused to believe it. Theo was kind to everyone he spoke to, but no one could gain his full attention, and affection. That was reserved for his one and only best friend ❤️

❤️ Theo who was Reader's best friend since kindergarten

💀 Every life path Reader took, Theo took as well. They were his best friend, he just happened to have the same interests as Reader!

❤️ Besides, he didn't go to the same college as them and got into the same company in the same sales department just because he was good at numbers like Reader... he also needed to protect them!

💀 Reader was always a hard worker, they would often forget to eat meals while working overtime and would only sleep two hours a night if Theo wasn't there to gently keep them on track

❤️ And despite everyone referring to Reader as a cynical workaholic, Theo knew deep down that they were far too trusting

💀 Remember that girl in grade four who confessed to Reader at recess? Reader turned her down far too kindly! They made her think it was actually okay to be friends! Thank goodness Theo was there to threaten the kid to stay away protect his best friend from that weirdo

❤️ People often mistook the pair of besties for a couple, and that was just ridiculous!

💀 Yeah, the idea of Reader calling Theo their husband, kissing Reader's forehead each and every night, and instead of just tucking them into bed joining them in their shared bed made his heart clench in a funny way... they were just friends!

❤️ Just friends that were also roommates. The economy is terrible right now, just because they make enough money to live alone, didn't it make more sense to live together and save money?

💀 And Theo enjoyed cooking nutritional meals for his best friend! No instant ramen for Reader while Theo's around!

❤️ No, it wasn't jealousy whenever someone started hitting on Reader, he was just worried for them!

"Don't you think Jackson's a bit... creepy?" Theo asked his buddy while prepping dinner one night. Reader glanced up from their work laptop only briefly.

"Why do you say that?"

"Ah, I don't mean to sound rude! I'm sorry.. I just overheard him saying something pretty gross about Mrs. Kim.."

Jackson had asked Reader to grab a drink with him sometime just the other day, and he seemed like a genuinely kind dude. But Reader trusted Theo with their life, and wouldn't question anything he ever said, believing their best friend was simply incapable of lying. Reader grunted and went back to work, and Theo knew by that sound his bestie wasn't going out with Jackson anytime soon.

💀 Theo who could never admit to anyone, not even himself, that his relationship with Reader wasn't a healthy "friendship"

❤️ Convincing himself that his actions were completely normal things for friends to do was almost a full time job

💀 Sometimes he watched Reader sleep, admiring how their eyelashes fluttered as they dreamt ensuring that they were actually sleeping and not sneaking onto their computer

❤️ And breaking down into full blown hysterics when Reader doesn't text him back is just because he's so worried for them

💀 Reader always saw the error in their ways though, apologizing profusely when they finally came home from grocery shopping and seeing the results of forgetting to charge their phone

❤️ It was an especially hard day when Theo had to cut off his own mother. She said Theo was codependent on Reader! Reader doesn't know this though, they just heard that Theo's mother was criticizing their friendship

Reader was stopped at the front door, Theo draping his large frame over his best friend, his large eyes watering. "Please don't leave, (Reader)."

They sighed, wriggling an arm free to mess with Theo's hair. "The fridge is almost empty, dude."

"But it's raining outside!" Theo raised is voice unintentionally as he began to panic, spiraling into an anxiety attack. "What if you get sick? Please just stay home, I can order take out. Let's go shopping tomorrow!"

"Theo.."

"Please!" A sob choked out of the man as he seemingly lost his strength, collapsing against Reader as he stained their jacket with his tears. "I just want to keep you safe!"

Reader gave in, as they always did, guilt stabbing at their heart until they could calm Theo down and convince him they weren't leaving.

Even if Reader never fell in love with Theo, the man would be content just to be by Reader's side, forever being their one and only best friend. As long as he could continue protecting them, from bad dates conspiring to ruin Reader's life, from management that continuously accepted Reader's overtime volunteering, and from Reader's own silly bad choices... Theo was happy.

#yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere drabble #tw manipulation #not proofread #yandere best friend #platonic yandere

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murdrdocs · 11 months

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back home thinking about neighbor miguel o'hara ... tw age gap + miguel calls reader "kid" once + dads best friend miguel

you come home to visit your parents one day, a basket filled with multiple loads of laundry of your most valuable clothing items, ones you didn't trust the dorm machines to take good care of.

your parents are gone, and you're having a little trouble with opening the door and balancing your bags. just when you're about to drop the basket, and your laundry is about to become even dirtier, hands take the basket away from you and your senses are overloaded with heavy breathing and the smell of musky sweat.

you look up, then up some more, and you're met with dark eyes, wavy hair that hangs over thick eyebrows, prominent cheekbones, and a really pretty smile. but as attractive as he is, he's definitely a stranger, and your keys are almost sandwiched between your fingers before you see your father's face pop up over his shoulder.

he says your name happily, a wide smile on his face. the stranger steps out of the way so your dad can hug you, but you can't help but attempt to peek over his shoulder to see this handsome stranger again.

loads of excited rambling and questions from your dad later, he's finally introducing you to the man now making a green juice in your kitchen.

"this is miguel. my running buddy? fitness trainer? and our new neighbor!" and your parents new neighbor is incredibly hot.

during your short stays, you see him running, doing lawn work, talking to the mailman every so often. mundane things that should not be as attractive as they are.

and when you come home for the summer, you've never been happier for how social your parents are because there's cook out after cook out and you're always forced to attend, putting up a front that you'd rather be home but you knew that your dad would force his new best friend to show up too, which would let you ogle him.

and ogling eventually turns into small talk, which turns into lingering glances, which turns into receiving lingering glances, which turns into small hugs, into longer hugs, into laughing at dumb jokes, and eventually, into sneaking kisses behind corners.

your parents are hosting the next cook out, an excuse for your father to use his new grill that he'd spent entirely too much money on. there's only two weeks left before you go back to school, and you need something to happen before you go.

which is why whenever you and miguel are the only people inside of your home, you put your glass of lemonade down and grab his forearm, leading him to upstairs where you pull him into the bathroom before he can say anything.

standing with your back against the door, you look up at him, eyes wide, small smile on your lips.

"what're we doing in here?" he asks you, voice low and rough but not completely uninterested.

"we're getting some alone time, miguel."

his eyebrows lift. "alone time? for what?"

you stare at him, deadpan, head tilting. miguel, clearly trying to play off his feelings, laughs, dark eyes looking around before they look back down at you.

"that's funny, kid, now get away from the door."

and the opening is right there. so, of course, you're gonna take it.

"make me."

it could've gone so wrong. miguel could've lifted you over his shoulder and put you down on the other side of him, leaving an open space for him to escape and ignore you for the rest of the time you would be home. but instead, he takes the bait and pushes his lips against yours, kissing you harshly as his hands run down your chest to bunch up the skirt of your dress.

when his fingers slide down against the crotch of your panties, your moan is muffled by miguel's lips, but he has to pull away for air and he's kissing your neck instead and it's much harder to hide your moans when his fingers slip between the elastic of your panties and he starts sliding them through your folds, gathering your slick enough to comfortably begin to slowly plunge one finger into your walls.

the stretch is different from your own fingers, one of his almost equivalent to one and a half of yours. your bottom lip is attacked by your teeth, your hips grind into his hand, your nails scratch at his scalp.

it's so good. even better when two fingers are steadily pumping into you, and he's speaking lowly to you, voice right beside your ears.

"there you go, just like that. such a good, dirty, little slut for me. wanting your dads best friend to fuck you in your own house? would've never expected that from you when we first met. shit, probably wanted me to fuck you right then too, huh? pretty little head thinking about nothing but me bending you over that counter. could sense it with the way you were watching me make that juice."

anyone could hear. anyone of these slightly drunk guests who were entirely too comfortably in your home could come wandering upstairs for the bathroom, the downstairs one probably occupied consistently, and they would hear how miguel o'hara was fucking you on his fingers and talking to you.

your moans were incredibly conspicuous, they were incredibly revealing, not only of your scandalous actions, but of how amazing you felt in the moment.

they were letting miguel know just how close you were, becoming more erratic and high pitched with the longer he continued.

his free hand that was previously pushed into the wood of the door yanked your panties the rest of the way down, letting the material fall to the floor.

"touch yourself for me, amor. play with that pretty little clit of yours." and you do what he says, instantly setting a pace sure to push you over the edge. which, it does in just a few moments.

miguel kisses at your jaw and cheeks as you come down, fingers slowly pumping until they slow to a stop and he pulls them out, sticking them into the wet heat of his mouth instead.

when they're pulled out, clean of your juices but dirtied with his saliva, he asks you: "when do you leave for school again?"

#blurb that turned into 1k words ...#erm #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara #miguel ohara smut #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel o’hara x reader

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loveundrwrld · 6 months

Text

rich yandere x con artist/scammer reader (gender neutral)

cw: blackmailing, unhealthy relationship (on both sides, lol), implied stalking, etc.

you, a young, attractive person struggling with finances, have a clever way of getting by.

it was simple- you flirt and attract rich, lonely people. the dumber the better.

once you get your hooks into them, you move into their place as their significant other (letting you live in luxury apartments and mansions rent-free.) you ask for expensive gifts. you “borrow” small items from his house that you can sell, like watches or rings.

and, if they have not caught on to you at that point- you do your final trick- you cry and say you desperately need a lot of money, for one reason or the other. you say you need it for college tuition, or you say that your mother desperately needs surgery.

and then, once you get the money you’re looking for- you find one way or another to disappear from their life. make them think that you run off with someone else so they won’t want you back. you use a new fake name, each time- so they wouldn’t even know where to look for you even if they did.

you set your eyes on a new target and you initially think that he’ll be an easy con. even more so than usual. you set your sights on rich yandere, a nepo baby heir to the fortune of a successful company.

he’s very sheltered, very inexperienced. it seems that he’s never dated anyone before you. it's no surprise, then, that he falls for each of your lies so easily without any questions.

all that you have to do in return is kiss him, tell him you love him, and let him hold you. very simple for someone who’s used to that sort of thing and more with people you barely know.

he moves in with you very quickly- letting you live with him in a big, beautiful mansion far faster than even you expected.

when you try tell him your planned out sob story, he just shushes you, kisses you sweetly, and gives you whatever you want when you ask. there’s no need to stress, baby, he’s there for you.

after a while you start getting cocky, forgetting to apply your typical level of caution. you ask for far more money than usual with your scheme. and far more often.

surprisingly, rich yandere never seems to care at all. and never seems to notice when your stories don’t add up together.

actually, now that you think about it, he never even asked how you were doing in college even after he gave you all that money for “tuition” . . .

after a while, you start to think . . . it’s only a matter of time before he catches on, right? and then, you start to subtly drop hints, to make your ‘mysterious’ disappearance in his life make sense. you start to mention a man you know and seeming just a little too interested in him.

you quickly see a new side to him. he stops you in your tracks one day and grabs you by the shoulders using your real name. “does he treat you as well as i do (reader)?” he asks. “remember how much money i gave you? he could never do that for you.”

frightened at being caught in your lies, you calm him down in the meanwhile and plan to escape the house at night to make your disappearance.

to your surprise, however, you notice that he's installed new security cameras right outside your shared room some time ago . . . almost like he was expecting this exact turn of events.

and if you try to escape again, well . . . he's quick to remind you. "no one else would like it if they heard what you did to me. if i tell them what you did, things could be very bad for you, baby, considering how much money you took . . .”

but, of course . . . if you don't leave him, nobody else has to know. so you won't leave him, right?

#yandere oc #yandere scenarios #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x you #if this situation sounds familiar i got inspired by that netflix thriller parody show with the really long name lol #rich guy yandere

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leighsartworks216 · 6 months

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can i request a tav x astarion where tav is mute? i wonder how they would be communicating

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

I really struggled with this request, but I decided to try again on a whim and whoooo boy it's a doozy. I also did not make Tav mute, but I played with a Paladin oath I have had on my mind for a looong time so they are effectively mute

Warnings: fear of death, blood, mentions of death/dead bodies, religion, anxiety, fear, being trapped, crying, swearing, angst, hurt/little comfort, possibly OOC

Word Count: 3,624

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You huff in annoyance for the fifth- no, sixth, time. Perhaps more. The vendor stares at you as though you’re insane, even though you couldn’t possibly be clearer! You exaggerate further, pointing at the potion, yourself, and your coin purse. If he would just mark how much the damn thing cost, you wouldn’t have to keep going through this!

Astarion sighs sharply. “They want to buy the potion,” he bemoans. “Now, please, tell them the price so we can move on.”

The vendor starts with wide eyes and realization on his face. He flushes from his cheeks, down his neck, and to the tips of his ears as he stutters out the price. You shove the money into his chest and grab what you’ve paid for, before stomping off. And if Astarion slipped an extra something in his pocket while the vendor was dying of his stupidity, who would really care?

He caught up in a few long strides. “We must find a better way for you to communicate, darling. I can’t keep translating for you.”

You made a few sharp gestures.

“I don’t see the big deal in carrying a paper and pencil around,” he answered with a scoff. “Or, you know, you could just speak. I know you can.”

You glared at him. That, he didn’t need a translator for.

This had been an ongoing argument from the very moment you ran into each other on the beach. When he had you pinned to the ground and you didn’t speak, he originally thought you were just being stubborn. When he finally let you go, you’d explained to him (in writing) that you’d made an oath of silence, and that you had nothing to do with the Illithid kidnappings.

Fortunately, you discovered early on that some hand signs were shared with the Theive’s Cant, which he understood quite well. When Gale and Wyll came along, one who’d learned some sign through books and the other who learned by helping people as the Blade of Frontiers, Astarion was relieved he wouldn’t have to translate for you. Except, you continued to drag him along to act as the middle man anyway.

His solution, proposed frequently both seriously and in jest, was to break your oath. An oath of silence was a ridiculous thing to promise anyway, especially now that you needed to communicate so frequently, but any time the suggestion was posed, you’d just level him with a hard stare.

“You know I can’t do that,” you signed, annoyed.

He rolled his eyes. “Ugh, Paladins. So dedicated to the chains that bind them.”

“To break my oath would be to lose my powers. Do you want me to keep reviving your ass during battle or not?”

He sneered. “You couldn’t make an oath of vengeance or something? It would certainly be a lot easier to follow through on.”

You rolled your eyes and walked faster. You hated arguing about your oath. Wyll and Gale wouldn’t behoove you for it - so why did you bring him along, he wonders.

Astarion heaved, pressing against a stitch in his side that tightened with each breath. The fight was brutal. Everyone was bloody and exhausted. Shadowheart turned from the dead beast before them to help Wyll who lay prone on the ground. Karlach pulled her mighty axe from its head with a squelch and a crunch, cheering at the victory.

He chuckled breathlessly at her antics. Almost stumbling, he turned in a circle, eyes scanning the battlefield. The beast’s cronies lay still, scattered everywhere. Blood overwhelmed his senses. How did that saying go? Water, water, everywhere, but not a drop to drink.

He frowned. He looked around again. “Where’s Tav?”

Karlach’s whoops quieted immediately. She looked around as well. “They didn’t get crushed under this,” she kicked the creature in the eye, “did they?”

He shook his head. “They weren’t close enough…” He growled, frustrated, and turned to the magic-users. “Did you see where Tav went?”

Shadowheart supported Wyll as he sat up, groaning. They both shook their heads. “Last I saw them, they were over there,” the warlock croaked, nodding over to the side. “But I don’t know how long I’ve been down for.”

Astarion winced as he jogged over to where he said, stepping over and on top of dead bodies. He took another step. His foot did not collide with floor nor flesh. His heart lurched as the world fell out from under him. A hand grabbed the neck his armor and pulled him back, falling on his ass onto solid ground.

“Careful, Fangs!” Karlach chastised worriedly. She let him go, pulling them both to their feet and brushing him off. “You alright?”

His mind was still reeling. He nodded in a daze. All he could do was stare at the nearly-invisible chasm he’d almost fallen down into… And then his mind caught up.

He raced forward again, dopping to his knees right before the tear in the earth, and leaned over it. Even his darkvision couldn’t help him see what was below; it was so dark, like all light that fell into it was swallowed up. A heavy weight settled in his chest.

“Tav?!” he shouted down into the darkness. His voice echoed. He had no idea how deep it went.

The realization set in for Karlach as well. “Oh fuck…”

“Tav, are you down there?!” He waited a moment, but he was met with only silence.

Shadowheart and Wyll rushed over. They peered into the deep with concern. Astarion shifted so he sat on the ground, legs dangling over the edge. He remembered the feeling of falling. Fortunately, he couldn’t see how deep it was, so at least vertigo did not make it seem deeper; the shadow was doing a perfect job of that on its own.

Wyll grabbed his shoulder before he could slide forward. “Astarion, we have no idea how deep it goes, or what’s down there! You could be impaled on a spike before you ever make it to the bottom. We don’t know if they’re even alive!”

“And if they are?” he growled. “They could be trapped down there with no way of telling us.”

“And you’ll be trapped down there if you go after them!”

He couldn’t argue with anything logical. So what if he got stuck down there? He needed to know you were okay. His blunt nails dig into the stone edge, knocking loose flecks of rock and sediment. How could he just leave you down there?

Shadowheart looked around at the bodies. “We could make some rope. Lower it down, see if they grab on.”

He snorted mirthlessly, sneering at the cleric. “And if they’re too injured to?”

She glared back at him. “I don’t see you proposing any better ideas.”

Karlach and Wyll shared a look. It seems they’d have to be the level-headed ones here… “We can strip the bodies. Tie their clothes together until it’s long enough.” To hopefully reach the bottom, was left unsaid.

Karlach and Shadowheart got to work immediately, working to remove the clothes of their fallen enemies, scrunching their noses in disgust all the while. Wyll squeezed Astarion’s shoulder and joined them, trying to decide what clothes were in good enough condition to hold weight. Astarion stared into the pit for a while longer.

Your head spun. Everything ached. Each breath was like fire in your lungs. You bit your lip to silence your whimpers, biting down so hard you could taste iron in your mouth.

As the pain ebbs to a manageable level, you try to figure out where you were. It was dark. You couldn’t make out your hand right in front of your face. You couldn’t even be sure your eyes were open. You only knew they were when you looked up and saw light coming from far above you. It was dim and flickering - the flames of the braziers that lined the battlefield.

You blinked into the darkness, willing your eyes to adjust. Cautiously, you reached out your hands and felt around. The ground beneath you was covered in fine gravel, almost like sand. The finer sediment stuck to your hands when you pulled away. There was a wall behind you, possibly made from slate. It would be impossible to climb. With a muffled groan, you’re able to reach your foot out and touch the opposite wall. The effort leaves you panting.

You lay still on the floor for a minute. Clearly, you fell from quite high up. How far was still a mystery, but the fact was you did fall. When you’ve caught your breath, you feel for any injuries. Your armor restricts you, but it seems to have protected you for the most part. You’ll be bruised as hell, but you can’t find any open wounds. At least you were fortunate there.

You look up again. You can’t hear anything coming from above, but you’re unsure if it’s from the depth of the chasm or because the battle is over. You hope they are able to win the fight without you. All your companions are strong in their own right, you know they can pull through this.

You squint at the opening above. You think you see something moving at the top, but it’s merely a speck. Using the wall and gathering your waning strength, you push yourself to your feet. You heave as you lean against the slate. The silhouette is still too far away to make out.

T..av….

A distant cry, distorted heavily by the chasm. It takes a moment for you to recognize it as your name. Your heart leaps in your chest.

… av….. Ar… d..wn… the..re…

You can’t tell who’s calling down to you, but you take faith in the knowledge it must be one of your companions. The beasts wouldn’t know your name. Now you just have to signal them somehow…

You feel around your body for your sword, but the sheath is empty. It must have fallen elsewhere, perhaps only feet away, but you can’t see worth a damn. You try instead to cast a ball of light. It should be easy - it’s a spell you’ve cast a hundred times before. But as you strain to conjure even a spark, you become lightheaded. Your knees buckle, collapsing you back to the gritty floor. You try again, but you can feel your energy being sapped away. Your hand falls weakly to the ground.

You rest your head back against the wall and think. You can’t use your sword to hit the rock and make a sound, or defend yourself if something lurks within the darkness. You can’t cast a light, nor any other spell, lest you fall completely unconscious and make your chances worse. The more options you run out of, the more desperate you become. You try reaching out to their tadpoles, but they must be too far away.

You’re stuck.

A sob chokes you as it forces its way up your throat. Even that is muffled by you, by pure habit at this point. You’ve held your oath for years; you’ve learned how to stay silent even under the worst situations. Now it’s come to bite you in the ass.

You look up at the dim light, blurred through tears. They burn as they just keep coming. Your lip quivers as you quietly gasp for air. You’re going to die down here.

Your last option, you’ve already dismissed before it fully forms. You could break your oath, call up to them, cry out for help with the last of your strength. But to do that would leave you even more helpless than before. To speak was to lose your powers. Your god would rip them away in a heartbeat, until you plead for forgiveness; pray for hours and hours to swear your allegiance and dedication once more.

A slave to the chains that bind you.

But what choice do you have?

You try to catch your breath, slow the hiccups and sobs down until you can fill your lungs with air. You open your mouth, try to form the words, but it comes out as a weak sound, almost a poor facsimile of a donkey’s bray. You haven’t spoken for years, to do so now was an astronomical feat. You feel the burn of your god’s eyes as they watch you actively work to break your oath.

You try to speak again. You form an h sound, but it’s so quiet, it’s hardly enough to be considered speaking. You need to shout. You need to let your friends know you are alive down here. Anxiety grips your heart as you imagine being left down here alone, left to starve to death, or worse.

You swallow. You have to do this. You can do this.

“H..e..lp,” you croak out, a mere whisper. It’s raspy and breathy, but it’s a word. You feel your power being sapped away. You nearly sob again. Your god would abandon you down here. An unfeeling master who only craves loyalty. Astarion was right.

You take another deep breath and try harder. “H-elp..!” It’s still a strained rasp, but you hear it begin to echo off the walls. Louder. It needs to be louder. You cup your hands around your mouth. “Help!” Tears prick at the corners of your eyes at the burning in your throat. “HELP!”

Astarion’s hands are raw from tying knots. Karlach will bring him big piles at a time, plopping them down beside him, and he’d add them all onto the already-quite-long rope. It was perhaps 30 feet long by now, but he wasn’t confident it would reach.

Wyll sighed, exhausted. “We’re almost out of clothes, my friend.”

Astarion doesn’t look up, barely paying attention to the warlock enough to tell him to keep working. Calluses on his hands open and turn into blisters. He winces with each knot he pulls tight. But he won’t stop. How can he?

Shadowheart sighs as she pulls the pants off another corpse. She’s seen far more anatomy in one hour than she ever wished to again. Karlach sits down by the pile and pulls the other end of the rope into her lap. She begins working to tie more on.

They work silently, but rather efficiently. In another minute, the rope has grown considerably longer. Blood begins to stain Astarion’s end.

“Fangs, maybe you should take a break.” He shakes his head, frowning as he grabs a robe off the pile. Karlach is about to insist, get Wyll or Shadowheart to take over, when a sound comes from the pit. Astarion drops everything and scrambles over as fast as he can.

He tilts his head, facing his ear down into the depths. And he listens…

H..E..LP!

He immediately shouts down into the hole. “We’re going to get you out!” He rushes back to his feet and to the rope. The others drop their half-naked corpses, and Karlach finishes tying one last knot. They help Astarion drag it over to the pit, all lining up to hold onto the end, though, to be honest, Karlach will be doing most of the heavy lifting. He guides the end over the edge, and hurriedly lowers it down. He wants to throw it in, but he’d rather not throw somebody else over the edge with the sudden weight.

He’s knelt right on the edge, wide eyes staring, searching into the dark. He has no idea how close they are to you, or even if it’s long enough. He hopes your god is merciful enough to play with fate.

“Find the rope!” He shouts down. He hopes his voice is reaching you. “We’ll lift you up!”

It’s too quiet for too long. If his heart still beat, it would be racing faster than a rabbit’s on the run. Dread builds up, heavy and unpleasant, in his chest instead. Did you pass out? Was the rope long enough? Would he have to slide down and carry you back up? What was taking you so damn long?!

He’s a second away from removing his armor to climb down when the rope shifts, being tugged by something down in the darkness. He can only hope it’s you. He scrambles to his feet and gets in front of Karlach, grabs hold of the rope with bloody fingers, and begins pulling you from the pit.

Somehow they manage to work as a unit. He’s scrambling to pull you out as fast as possible, but Karlach manages to get him to slow down. If they could do long pulls, they could drag you out faster with less work. He worries his lip between his teeth. Each knot that slips over the edge adds to his anxiety. He’s waiting for the moment it reaches the end and nothing is there. He can only take solace in the fact he can feel your weight holding on. Gods, he thinks desperately, just keep holding on.

After an eternity of pulling, a hand reaches over the ledge. Karlach makes up for his absence when he lets go and falls to his knees at the edge. He reaches in and wraps his hands under your arms, heaving you up and, finally, back on solid ground. He pulls you solidly into his arms, sliding back away from the edge. He’s sick and tired of chasms.

You’re no longer wearing your armor, and your weapons belt is gone, too. Fine, black dirt sticks to your clothes and hands, and even smears across your face, washed away by a stream of tears. He wipes them away with one hand; he can’t give a damn about the blood he leaves in its place.

“I’ve got you,” he breathes. You sob as fall forward, your head landing solidly against his shoulder. Your whole body trembles and shudders with each cry. He’s disconcerted by the sound of your voice, no longer purposefully muffled. He threads his fingers into your hair, holding you to him. “Shh. I’ve got you. You’re safe, I’ve got you.”

If your body ached at the bottom of the pit, now you couldn’t even think about moving. Astarion had carried you as far as he could and then some, until Karlach had to take you from his arms before he dropped you. Even then, he stayed right by her side, watching you anxiously.

Back at camp, Shadowheart healed what she could, but most of her energy was spent during the fight. Haslin took over, but even the best he could do would have you bruised and in pain for the next few days. He went into the woods for ingredients to make a soothing balm.

Wyll helped you drink water, and Gale helped you drink some broth, to hold you over until he could make dinner proper. Lae’zel rifled through your veritable hoard of supplies to find you some suitable armor and weapons, and worked to sharpen and polish them.

When you were finally given the chance to rest, Astarion carried you from your bedroll into his tent, laying you down on his own bedroll. He provided as many pillows as you wished, as many blankets as you could ever ask for. He gathered a bowl of water and a fresh cloth and worked to clean the grime off your face.

You watched blankly, too emotionally and physically exhausted to process much. He passed the cloth over your forehead. It was blessedly cool, but the flash of red that crossed your vision could not be ignored.

Arms like lead, you willed a hand to grab his, stopping him mid-swipe. He winced as you pried the cloth from his hand, where it dropped wetly onto your neck, and ran your thumb along his palm. Blisters and blood covered every inch, skin torn and peeling in places. Without even thinking, you try casting a spell to heal him.

Whereas before, when you tried to cast a spell, you could feel it draining your energy from you, now you just felt nothing. It was like dipping a bucket into a well and coming up empty. There is no more magic within you to fuel a spell. Tears prick at your eyes again.

Astarion sighs, long and low. “You don’t have your magic.”

It takes far too much effort to even shake your head. You take a breath, and through the rasping pain, you speak. “They… took it away when… I called for help…” You swallow thickly. Your voice was foreign to you.

It was foreign to Astarion, too. He could recognize the way you signed, the slight variations of years of experience against Gale’s book-perfect signing or even Wyll’s slower, more purposeful movements. He associated it with you so strongly. To hear you speak was like watching a ventriloquist put on a show.

A bitter feeling took hold within him. Just like all gods, all masters, all people with power to laud over another, you were abandoned in your darkest hour, by someone you spent so long dedicated to. Prayers, offerings at alters, your faithful silence - it would never be enough, not to a god who always craved more.

But now isn’t the time to say I told you so. Gently, he removes his hand from your grasp. Your hand flops back to your side. He takes the cloth from where it rested at your neck, re-wets it, and continues cleaning your face.

He doesn’t say anything as he wipes away your tears, catching them before they have a chance to slide down to your ears. When the sobs choke you, he helps you drink some water. When your sorrow lulls you to sleep, he tucks you in and stays by your side, a faithful argus.

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars @sylverqueen_cosplay @yarn_yogi @tototini @teardropcup @ashrio20 @bambamwolf87 @astarion-imagine-archive

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prettybean · 6 months

Text

THEY’RE JEALOUS (COD +18)

* I’m sorry I have a thing for Keegan

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE

Ghost

He is like a dog and you are his bone. He never left you for a moment: he was always looking at you, his hands were always on you.

When a recruit approaches you to ask some information, Simon will wait patiently until he disappears from your sight, and then whisper in your ear:

"Did you see him? I bet he really wanted to fuck you."

Soap

He trusts you so much that he doesn't even notice when someone is flirting with you. To make him jealous, you could do it on purpose: you lightly touched a man's arm in the middle of the pub where John took you. You laughed and joked with him until you sensed someone standing behind you, staring into your eyes as if to assert their ownership. "I hope you're enjoying yourself."

Price

He is quiet, and when someone hits on you, he rarely interferes. He sits down, almost amused, and observes the spectacle while starting a cigar and smoking peacefully.

When you're alone, his eyes get darker and he points to his lap. "Come here little girl, if you have to flirt like a slut you also have to expect punishment later."

Gaz

He hates seeing you with other people. He would never admit it, but every time he talks to someone he starts to get nervous. Every time you have to reassure him that you only have eyes for him, otherwise you have to suffer a grumpy Kyle all day.

“Do you only want me?”. You nod, kissing him softly. “Remember that I fuck you better than anyone.”

Graves

He would do anything for you: do you want money? He gives it to you. Do you want a car? He buys it for you. You're not even engaged but he acts like you've been partners for years. If he finds out that someone is flirting on you, he approaches the guy and politely tells him to get his ass out of here.

"It was necessary?" You tell him rolling your eyes.

“I can't stand here and watch some asshole look at you like they want to eat you”.

König

He doesn't have jealousy issues, no one has the bravery to approach you when he's around. This man is far too tall and powerful: no one has ever given you more than a fleeting glance.

If someone dared to stare at you more closely, König would place his hand on your hips, squeezing you close and caressing you from your stomach to your breasts. While doing so, he stared the poor man in the eyes with a satisfied smile behind his mask.

Keegan

He isn’t jealous neither. He is aware that you are his, and like the good girl you are, you will surely return to him, crawling. He will chuckle at the pitiful scene no matter how much you attempt to make him jealous. He will stare at you until you come back to him, even if you are only half clothed in front of one of his coworkers.

"Did you finish your show?". He whispers to you before grabbing you by the neck, stroking your face slowly. “Now mine begins.”

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ateliersss · 6 months

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Where Do You Think You're Going?

Pairing: Vladimir Makarov x Fem!Reader Summary: You try to leave him... Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: Abusive and Toxic Behavior, English isn't my first language Word Count: 2.283

"And where exactly do you think you're going, moya dorogaya?" He asked, in that terrifying calm, cold voice you've become so familiar with.

The voice that now sent a shiver down your spine and instilled a sense of dread deep in your gut used to make you feel at the top of the world.

You and Makarov had been a couple for almost five years now, but recently he had become dangerously possessive and overprotective, making you almost suffocate in the invisible grip he had you in.

You bit down on your lower lip, but you didn't stop grabbing your clothes from the closet of your shared bedroom to throw them into your suitcase lying on the king-size bed.

"Away." You simply answered him.

Makarov's demeanor shifted instantly, from indifferent and collected to a cold but calm fury.

He chuckled in that unforgiving tone of his. "And where are you off to?"

He leaned against the door frame of your bedroom, tall and imposing, blocking your way to escape the room should you zip up your suitcase and grab it to leave.

"Anywhere. Primarily away from you." You answered curtly and walked over to your vanity table to collect your perfumes, cremes and lotions.

"And why would you want to get away from me?" Makarov asked as he watched you pack your stuff into the small toiletry bag, your back turned to him.

You ignored him.

His grimace turned into a sinister snarl at your lack of an answer before he pushed himself away from the door frame and moved towards you, towering over you, making his presence felt in a very deliberate and intimidating manner.

He wrapped his arms around your middle section from behind and pressed his torso to your back, leaning down for his lips to reach your ear.

"Don’t you love me? You do love me, don’t you?” He asked, his tone low.

Your movements came to a halt, your head slowly looking up to see both of your reflections in the mirror of the vanity.

Although his head was turned down for his mouth to reach your ear, his eyes pierced yours in the mirror. They looked menacing and warningly at you. It sent shivers down your spine and forced you to look away.

"Of course I love you... but I just can't do this anymore." You said, your throat dryer than the Sahara desert.

"Why?" Makarov questioned softly, his lips mere millimeters away from your ear.

His arms around you, hugging your stomach, tightened in a painful way, which knocked air out of your lungs. His breath tickled the edge of your neck.

"Do you not enjoy being pampered and spoiled with big gifts and expensive things? Do you not enjoy being treated like a princess? Like a queen?"

That was his usual way of manipulation when he noticed even the slightest form of resistance coming from you; guilt tripping and gaslighting.

As he watched your reflection in the mirror, he took in how vulnerable and small you appeared, which gave him a sense of resurance.

"Did you not like it when we went shopping and you spend my money on nice, pretty things? Or when I took you to those lavish parties and showed you off to those disgusting, perverted associates of mine who lusted after you and gave you their undevided attention? Or when I made love to you for hours anywhere, any time?"

When you wouldn't reply again, one of his hands shoot up to grab your chin and push it up surprisingly soft so your eyes would meet in the mirror.

"Answer me."

You let out a sigh and looked defiantly at his reflection. "Of course I love it, but that's not the point."

You had a hard time to speak since his arm, which was still wrapped around your middle, exerted a tight pressure on your belly and made it hard for you to breathe properly.

"I'm thankful for everything you do for me. I enjoy the expensive things, the vacations, the way you finance my hobbies, but... but that's not the reason I fell in love with you."

"Hm, enlighten me then." Makarov replied, his arm easing their tight hold on your stomach, allowing you to breathe easier again.

"What exactly was the reason?"

"I fell in love with you because you were you. You treated me like no man before, even though with your reputation. You are different around me, not much but enough to make me feel special."

You shook you head with a sigh.

"But why do you have to lock me into a golden cage like a bird?"

Makarov chuckled like you were a stupid little child who still didn't understand a simple thing although he had explained it a dozen times already.

"I do this because I want you all to myself, moya dorogaya." He whispered into your ear, his words erupting a warm tingle in your belly.

He stroked your hair out of your face.

"I also do this to protect you from danger." He added, his voice soothing. "I don't want the world to snatch the only thing that brings me joy."

Makarov planted a kiss on your temple which almost made you melt.

"The world can be a dangerous place for a beautiful, delicate flower like you."

"I can take care of myself, Vladimir. You know that." You scoffed.

"I don't doubt that. You are smart and gorgeous and determined, but you're also naive, moya dorogaya. You have no idea what my enemies would do to you if they knew that you existed and where you were."

Nothing, but the harsh truth in Makarov's words.

"So, I think I know better what's good for you than you do."

He kissed you again, this time on your cheek, which made it harder for you to remain stern as the familiar sensation of his lips on your skin were so distracting.

His fingers left your chin and slowly traced down your arm, leaving light goosebumps on your skin.

"Who knows what will happen if I ever let you go out alone."

Another way of manipulating you; scaring you with the harsh consequences that come with being with such a dangerous man like Makarov while also soothing you with sweet words and gentle caresses.

But you didn't plan to give in.

"You could accompany me, or send one or two of your best men with me. I can't stay in this house any longer, Vladimir. It's either that..."

A deep breath, your eyes glancing to the suitcase on your bed in the mirror.

"Or I'll leave you for good."

The corners of his lips curled up into a cruel smile.

Before you could even blink an eye, he had his hand wrapped around your thoat, blocking you air ways.

With panic widdened eyes, you reached up to grab his wrist and dig your manicured nails into his skin, which didn't make Makarov falter for a second.

"No other man will ever be able to make you as happy or as fulfilled as I do. All the gifts I gave you, all the diamonds and pearls I put on your pretty fingers and deliacte neck, all the dresses and shoes I bought you, all the vacations I took you on, and all the sweet words I speak to you and you threaten to leave me…"

He laughed in that arrogant and self-assured way that made your skin crawl while his cold eyes never left yours.

"If you ever decided to leave me, moya dorogaya, I would hunt you down and make you regret the day that you were born."

You wanted to reply, wanted to plead with him to let you go so you could breathe again, wanted to say anything at all, but the only sound that left your mouth was a high-pitched groan.

You quickly grew lightheaded, the corners of your view starting to blur and darken.

Makarov's smile widened as he watched the losing focus of your eyes.

He took a sadistic joy in controlling the situation, took a sadistic joy in the fact that he was in charge, took a sadistic joy in the fact that he was terrifying you.

He wanted you to feel the consequences of standing up to him.

But there was also a part of him that was only reserved for you, his darling, which made him loosen his grip, allowing you to breathe again. In an instant, you eagerly took big gulps of air into your lungs.

"I've treated you with nothing but love and respect, moya dorogaya. I would expect the same in return."

When enough oxygen returned to your brain, you looked at his reflection. Although you wouldn't admit it, you were thankful that he was standing behind you, holding you up, because you doubt your legs were stable enough to hold your whole weight on their own.

"My love for you is unconditional. There's nothing in the world I wouldn't do for you, you know that." He continued.

With his hand still on your throat, his long pale fingers still wrapped around it, he pulled your body flush against his. He pressed the side of his head against yours so he could whisper into your ear.

"But..." He started, "I expect the same level of commitment and devotion in return."

Still keeping his gaze locked on your shared reflection in the mirror, he placed a soft kiss on your ear shell.

"I want you to remember that every time you consider disobeying me, moya dorogaya... every time you even think about leaving this house just for a second..."

His gripped around your throat tightens again.

"Or even considering leaving me..."

He inhaled deeply the rose scent of your shampoo, the sweet aroma of your perfume, before he chuckled as his lips brushed against your ear again.

"It won't happen with you being alive."

You could feel it deep inside you, your heart cracking.

Who was this man?

Because you certainly didn't recognize the Vladimir who had looked at you in annoyance but also slight amusement when you had tripped over nothing and had spilled his drink into his lap.

You didn't recognize the Vladimir who would have had punished any other person that wasn't you for ruining his suit, but instead had asked for your name and what your favorite drink was.

You didn't recognize the Vladimir who had send the strange men sitting with him away with one simple wave of his hand just so he could talk to you throughout the rest of the night although you were still working.

You didn't recognize the Vladimir who had visited the bar you were working at more frequently after that.

(You had never questioned, never even thought about it, why your boss never had said anything when you stopped working just so you could talk to and drink with this handsome man.)

You didn't recognize the Vladmir who had sent dozen of roses to your small and shabby apartment. Although you had been creeped out that he knew where you had lived and that he had broken in so easily, the emotion you had felt at such a pricey and romantic gesture had been bigger.

Where was that Vladimir?

It was as if you had fallen deeply in love with a completely different version of Vladimir Makarov, one that didn't exist anymore.

Or had never existed in the first place.

The man you had fallen in love with was caring, sweet, affectionate and respectful.

But there was no trace of these positive characteristics in the Vladimir Makarov standing right behind you, with his hand around your neck and his thumb pressing on your pulse point.

"You understand me, moya dorogaya?"

With tears prickling in your eyes, you nodded.

There's a tinge of regret in his voice as he replied, "Good girl."

Even though he was a man of violence and terror, he didn't enjoy to seriously harm the only person on this planet that brought him happiness.

But to keep you forever, he had to do certain things even though he didn't like it. If scaring you into submission was the only way of keeping you for himself, he wouldn't hesitate.

He squeezed your throat one last time as a warning, before he harshly let go of you.

The force of him letting you go yanked you forward. You couldn't catch yourself with your hands in time, resulting in your upper body crashing against your vanity and your forehead smashing against the mirror.

You cried out in pain.

The sound of distress tugged painfully on his heart strings, but Makarov fought against the urge to check on you or even apologize.

When he noticed your hands reaching up to brace themselves on the surface of the vanity table to hoist your body up, he was by your side in a milisecond.

His thighs pressed against the back of yours, his crotch against the swell of your ass. One of his hands gripped your waist to push your hips painfully against the edge of the table, probably bruising your soft skin. His other hand gripped the back of your neck and pinned you down.

"Never ever even utter a word of leaving me again. Okay, moya dorogaya?"

Then, with one last harsh push to underline his words, he let go of you, his jacket swirling as he spun around to leave the bedroom.

He didn't even turn back to look at you one last time, despite you crying out in pain and tears running down your cheeks, and slammed the door shut.

Your sobs penetrated the closed door and followed him down the hall.

#vladimir makarov #vladimir makarov x reader #vladimir makarov x you #modern warfare #call of duty

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urwifebabes · 1 month

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A/N: okayyy this is from the poll everyone! https://www.tumblr.com/heaartzforcupid/745456435020873728/vote-for-which-ones-next-breeding-catnap-x

“Breedings and marks.” (Modern AU)

relationship(s): catnap x bunny!

reader x Dogday

warning(s): smut, mentions of kids,

Catnap = breeding

Dogday = marks

you guys had been dating for a year and 36 days. you all were trying to get into the groove of this .. poly relationship. they didn’t love eachother but they loved you. so they made it work, all for you.

you all had been walking around the store when this wolf came up to you. you smiled softly as he began to ask for your number and casually flirt with you. The wolf didn’t even notice them both, actually. Catnap picked up on it before Dogday. but when Dogday did pick up on it, his mood was quite sour to. Catnaps tail gripped the inside of your thigh, before he grabbed your hand and took you away to the bathroom. while Dogday looked at the guy and before he could even blink, he got punched in his face by the golden dog.

Catnap had been roughly fucking into you as his tail held your legs up and you laid on the spacious counter. his cock slid in and out of your tight cunt. he groaned each time his length squeezed itself into your velvety walls. it felt like his cock was in a sauna but oh, so good - it was like heaven to him. the more his cock pumped into you, the more he thought of how you’d carry his kittens. his eyes looked into yours before he whispered “can’t wait to see you swell with my kids, Midnight..~” he whimpered, helplessly as he dumped load after load inside you.

you were walking inside the store again, thighs squeezed tightly as you swayed. Catnap was walking behind you, proudly as Dogday was pouty that you guys had, had ‘fun’ without him. you had quickly got everything you would need for dinner and went to the cash register, embarrassed of your actions. Dogday did not let you pay as he gave the cashier the money you owed. you smiled softly, he was too sweet for this world.

when you guys had made it home, you had helped take everything out of the car before rushing to your guys shared bathroom. you got undressed, showing your perky nipples and plump ass. you got in the shower and began to bathe yourself of the icky lavender scent left on you and your cunt. about 10 minutes later, Dogday bursted inside, his vanilla scent bursting in with him. you could make out him moving a bunch before you heard his collar clink to the ground.

Before long, he was climbing in the shower with you. he pinned you against the wall and slid his musky thick cock inside. you took a gasp as he thrusted himself to the hilt, his eyes shut tightly. you both panted. he controlled himself better then you though and grinned, as he seen you so overwhelmed. the sharp teeth he had looking almost devilish as he began to fuck into you ruthlessly. the loud clapping noises could be heard from downstairs or even upstairs. the white goo that connected you both was mesmerizing. white, stretchy, and glossy. the deep harsh sounds of his balls slapping against your ass was enough to have you crying out for him. his dick was just too much for your tight pussy. he couldn’t hold back anymore, he was about to cum! he looked at your pretty unmarked freckled skin and he opened his jaws, biting. you yelled loudly as he sucked the piece of flesh as his hips kept moving. you moaned in ecstasy and abit of pain. - which made it, oh, so thrilling. he came deep inside your womb before softly pulling out. when you regained your senses, you rushed him out, aggravated that you had to bath yourself again.

“have fun without me, Midnight?” you blushed as you had recalled your shenanigans with Dogday. Catnap had began to mimic your moans before you had hit him with a wooden spatula right on his dome. “oh, shut up, you stupid cat.” Catnap chuckled, rubbing his head before he sat at the dinner table across from Dogday. They both began to do their own thing. Catnap scrolling on his phone while Dogday watched people throw balls at their dogs on the tv. you smiled at your two boys as you were ready to make them dinner.

you finally had made dinner when there was a knock on the door. you looked at Catnap and Dogday who were just as confused as you. you opened the door to see the wolf from earlier. you smiled and waved before you realized his eye was bruised. you quickly asked what happened before you put two and two together and realized it was Dogday. you offered to pay for the medical bill but the white fuzzy wolf told you it was fine and that you had dropped your ring and he just wanted to give it to you.

you smiled at the sweet wolf as you watched him leave. you then looked back at Dogday and Catnap, who were looking anywhere but you. let’s just say, you gave them both a lecture of a lifetime and no pussy until the next day.

what? you just couldn’t help it when it came to your boys.

A/N; Hihi, yes I am still doing requests.. more should be out by tmr everyone ❤️

TAGS: @2faced-fairy @alyssalololol

#reader insert #reader x character #reader x crush #smiling critters x reader #smut #dogday x reader #catnap #catnap x reader #dogday x reader x catnap #dogday #dogday poppy playtime #catnap poppy playtime #poppy playime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime #modern au #Spotify

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inoreuct · 7 months

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i just got a brainwave. ZOSAN DANCER AU.

zoro mainly does hip hop, sanji mostly does ballet, they’re both attending this prestigious dance academy; zoro’s a scholarship student and he thinks sanji’s an absolute fucking snob. he can’t stand the prissy rich boy three studios down, golden with all the money from his royal background— he’s a vinsmoke. he’s a prince. it’s right there on the student name list, clear as day.

he’s only seen sanji from afar and yeah, sure, maybe he shouldn’t be so quick to judge but the blond infuriates him with his stupid hair flips and his heart eyes and his mirror-hogging and the way he kneels down to retie the girls’ pointe shoe ribbons for them so that they don’t have to. he’s tall and willowy and strong and fucking talented and every time zoro sees him he wants to kick a hole through the drywall.

now, zoro doesn’t really practice in school often. he enjoys lessons well enough, but he and his crew dance their best in the streets. so when he signs up for a practice slot the one time and gets there (already fifteen minutes late, mind you) just to realise there’s a very familiar annoyance in his studio? he’s pissed. he slams the door open right as sanji executes a spinny jump thing that reaches a frankly ridiculous height, sinking to one knee with his head thrown back, the air ringing after the music’s final crescendo.

zoro doesn’t give a shit. he’s tired and hungry and needs to get his fucking step sequence clean before next week’s dance battle, and thus opens his mouth and shatters right through the thick quiet as he barks, “vinsmoke!”

and he doesn’t know why, but sanji’s gaze flicks to him and he freezes in place. the blond’s expression, just moments ago composed and focused, is dripping with something that zoro can’t quite name, but he has to stop himself from gulping when sanji gets up and beelines straight for him, jabbing a manicured finger right into his sternum without reserve.

“don’t. fucking. call me that,” the blond grits, damn near seething, jaw so tense zoro’s honestly afraid he’ll crack a tooth and it’s almost funny, but he suspects that he really did cross some sort of line, and he might be rough around the edges but he isn’t an ass.

“okay, i’m sorry,” he offers, cautious, hands up in the air. the words taste weird in his mouth, but sanji looks slightly less livid so he counts it as a win. “what do i call you, then?”

the other man looks torn between kicking zoro soundly in the shin (which zoro can already tell would hurt like a bitch) and storming out of the studio, but he huffs loudly and turns away. “black. sanji black.”

zoro hums carefully and slowly inches his way to the corner of the room, setting his duffel down much gentler than he normally does. he should really leave this alone. he has a solo he needs to practice for and dinner to catch after. so what if sanji renounced his supposedly royal last name? it didn't make him any better than every other stuck-up dancer with a superiority complex.

(he decidedly doesn’t leave it alone, because this is the first time that he’s seen cracks in the blond’s porcelain-doll facade, and he can’t help but want to dig his fingertips in and pry. he’s never claimed to have a sense of self-preservation.)

“so…” he starts, facing the barre that he’ll never use and watching sanji through the mirror. “your parents—”

“not my parents, i’m estranged,” sanji cuts in, blunt and terse, emotionless to the point where zoro knows he cares much, much more like he wants to seem like he does.

he watches sanji sit in the middle of the wooden floor and fiddle with the elastics on his weird sock shoe hybrids, going into splits with no apparent effort and pressing his torso flat to the ground. a bright blue eye meets his and zoro looks away sharply, yanking on the zipper of his duffel and grabbing his snapback to pop the closures just to look busy.

…god, fuck, zoro wants to ask so bad. estranged. that word is rapidly reshuffling his worldview regarding the man currently yanking off his knitted leg warmers behind him and tossing them to the side. he wants to know how much of all of it is real; the money, the rumours, the gleaming reputation that surrounds sanji like a shield. he’s their academy’s golden boy and a shoo-in for the principal position at its sister ballet company, once he graduates. zoro had thought of him as an absolute primadonna— put bluntly, a pompous brat. a classic silver spoon child. but even just sitting here and stewing in his thoughts, the ability to cling onto the image he’d admittedly half made up in his head is rapidly slipping away from him.

it’s painfully obvious that sanji can talk the talk and walk the walk. jump the jump? “hey, what was that spinny jump thing you did just now?” jesus christ. zoro winces; his voice is so loud against the silence that he nearly puts his head in his hands.

“mm?” sanji’s voice isn’t even strained as he sits up from where he’d had his face pressed to his knees, forearms around his feet. how a person could even fold that far forward, zoro would never understand.

“the— the jump thing. when i came in.”

“oh, the double entrelacé?”

zoro squints. “the fuck kind of name is ontrolassay?”

“it means interlace in french, you—” the blond seems to struggle with choosing an insult before he finally lands on, “—goonhead. although i wouldn’t expect you to be able to appreciate it.”

the KT tape on zoro’s calf rolls back at the edge as he rubs over it absentmindedly, and he quickly stops. that shit isn’t cheap. but he’s more concerned about why he'd been doing it in the first place, because he only does that when he thinks, and zoro has enough self-awareness to know that when he thinks too hard it usually doesn’t end well. he’s all instinct— and something in the back of his mind is telling him that sanji is tired.

the blond isn’t just a pretty boy with no bite, that much is obvious. but now, with the sky dark outside the full-length windows and the air still and silent, it’s easier for him to see the weariness that sanji hides with all his fawning and flirting and smiles. he eyes the other man in his peripheral and clocks it settled bone-deep in the weight of sanji’s eyelids, the parting of his hair, the curve of his back.

he turns around properly to look at sanji over his shoulder and thinks, ah, fuck it. he’d been late to begin with and he’s spent so long here fiddling with his fucking hat under the guise of doing something important that half of his hour-long slot is gone, anyway. “the crew and i are going for pizza. come with.” a smirk pulls at his mouth as he cocks his head. “or are you gonna die if you eat something other than rabbit food?”

the blond looks up with an arched brow and a scowl. “you fucking wish,” sanji scoffs, but after a moment he gets up and starts tossing things into his bag. “it better be makino’s. arlong’s pizza dough tastes like sardines no matter what you get.”

zoro would have been impressed if sanji knew any neighbourhood pizza places to begin with, but this sounds like he has experience. “of course it’s makino’s, curly. we have standards.”

“i wouldn’t have known,” sanji sniffs delicately. “and curly?”

“yeah.” zoro shrugs, the strap of his bag digging in over his baggy tee as he stands. “your hair, your brows, your spinny jump thing—”

“double entrelacé.”

zoro makes a like i said gesture with his hands, grinning broadly. “spinny jump thing.”

sanji sighs as he tosses his hair out of his face. zoro gets a glimpse of two sapphire eyes, blue as the heart of a flame. “you’re a barbarian.” the blond shoulders him aside and snaps the lights off, pulling the door shut as he fishes out the keys. “and you’re buying.”

zoro hums non-committally and deliberately neglects to mention that makino’s fond of both luffy, his best friend, and luffy’s godfather shanks— which means that the whole crew basically eats free on late weekdays like these. on a side note, shanks has a thing with his own dad, mihawk, but they refuse to admit it. it’s infuriating. maybe he’ll rope sanji into helping to get them together before christmas because he has a bet running with nami and it is not looking good for him.

they walk out into the brisk night air as he flips his snapback onto his head, picking up the pace when he sees sanji shiver. “i drove, c’mon.”

“oh, you’ve been driving,” sanji says airily, raising his brows again as he digs around in his well-loved canvas bag for his cardigan. it’s pink and it’s cashmere, because of course it is. “driving me crazy.”

zoro doesn’t even realise he laughs until after it’s left his mouth and sanji is looking at him with wide eyes, blue, blue and more blue. he clears his throat. “let’s hope i don’t crash, then. did i mention i’m half blind on the left side?”

he cackles as sanji squawks at that, half-terrified and disbelieving, and on the way to makino’s he explains how he’d gotten into a scooter accident with luffy as a kid. (“of course you did,” sanji mutters, rolling his eyes. there’s no malice to it.) his crew’s already waiting for him when they arrive; to his dismay (or is it?), sanji hits it off with them marvellously.

zoro finds out that sanji’s biological family is royal, sure. royal assholes. sanji had run away one day and the bastards hadn’t done a damn thing to make sure he was alright, which, he supposes, made sense considering sanji had literally run away. (he isn't given a reason. he doesn't push.) and yet vinsmoke judge still refuses to let sanji change his name, which means that sanji’s father zeff had never been able to legally adopt him. he pays his own school fees working at zeff’s restaurant; not as a waiter but as a chef, and at this point zoro resigns himself to seeing this guy around a lot more because luffy’s already vibrating with excitement and in this friend group, luffy somehow always gets what he wants. sanji’s in it for the long haul now.

but it doesn’t seem like such a horrible thing anymore. zoro almost feels bad for thinking that sanji had been some kind of spoiled brat the whole time, and isn’t that something? the blond is quick to laugh and hardworking and snarky and proud, yes, but it’s deserved solely based on how much he’s trained to get to where he is— he’s damn good and he knows it, and zoro can appreciate that.

(he takes that last bit and shoves it into a box that he locks up tight and buries deep, deep down. he will Not be thinking about that tonight.)

he’s impressed all over again as he watches the sanji inhale an entire four cheese pizza and five garlic knots to boot, and he laughs when the blond gives him a petulant glare.

“fuck off, marimo, i’ve been training all day. m’fucking starving,” he groans through another mouthful of garlic and cheese, elegantly hiding his mouth behind his hand.

oh, hell no. “marimo?” zoro deadpans. “really?”

“not inaccurate,” nami hums from beside him, and he nearly smacks his forehead to the table. he cannot let these two get along. that would be the beginning of his own personal hell.

it’s too late. “small and green and fluffy,” sanji coos, faux-condescending as he reaches out to pet zoro on the head, and zoro snaps his teeth at slender fingers. he listens to sanji meld effortlessly into his friend group and wonders just what he's gotten himself into.

(there is warmth blooming between his ribs. he knows it will grow no matter what he does.)

they get closer as the weeks go by. zoro learns that sanji hates oregano with more vitriol than should be possible towards a herb. he learns the blond’s favourite brand of dance shoes (he knows that they’re suede slippers now, considering he got beaten over the head with them). he learns that sanji’s left arm never healed completely right from where his oldest brother snapped it when they were children, and he has to dig his nails into his palm so that he doesn’t punch something. sanji drags him into an empty studio one day and tells him to lift his leg as high as he can, which devolves into a stretching session that zoro is more inclined to call torture. sanji is adamant that having at least some degree of flexibility will help him dance more fluidly and loosen up his muscles. zoro tells him to eat shit.

(he goes home, and stretches, and he’s mad as hell because sanji’s right.)

the whole crew goes to the ballet course’s end-of-semester recital and nearly gets kicked out with how loudly they scream when sanji finishes his presentation. zoro throws a rose along with everyone else and pretends that he doesn’t.

(sanji pretends that he doesn’t find the exact one zoro tossed and press it to his nose as he sits in the dressing room backstage, his classmates bustling around him not enough to break his bubble of makeup mirror lighting and silky red petals and the memory of keen grey eyes, watching from the darkness of the audience seats.)

(zoro had been the first one to stand when he’d bowed. he’d cheered the loudest. sanji saw him. sanji heard him.)

zoro doesn't realise how much he talks about sanji until his sister threatens to peel the skin off his face if you don't ask him to come watch nationals, zoro, i swear to all that is unholy— and he shudders. perona is... terrifying. he also loves her terrifyingly much, but that won't stop her from peeling his face off, so he drops sanji a text with the details of the national finals of the dance battle that he was supposed to be training for that fateful day. he's too chickenshit to do anything else. too much of a coward to ask him face-to-face.

they win. their friends and family flood the stage. zoro looks for one face only. he feels a hand on his shoulder, whips around with his heart pounding and oh, he's here. radiant under the stadium lights, hair gleaming like brazened honey, eyes bluer than the sky and his smile even brighter. zoro opens his mouth to say something. anything.

sanji crashes into his arms and kisses him, and he feels like the fucking king of the world.

(the wolf-whistles only register when he realises sanji's legs are wrapped around his hips, his hands beneath strong thighs, but sanji is flushed so brilliantly pink and he looks so happy that zoro doesn't even care. luffy's elbow loops around his neck, nami crashing into his back, usopp coming in fast from the right, and sanji wiggles down to slide his arms around zoro's waist and tuck right up against his side. the trophy shines in his fist as he raises it high above the crowd and his nakama press in tight around him, and zoro screams and cheers with them until his throat goes hoarse.)

(mihawk and shanks get together three days later. sanji and zoro split the money nami begrudgingly forks over and then buy the whole crew pizza.)

#zosan #op zosan #zosan au #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #one piece zosan #one piece zoro #one piece sanji #zoro x sanji #one piece #ino writes #GOD i love dancer aus #can yall tell i was obsessed with the step up franchise at one point

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vioartemis · 7 months

Text

In another life (Sam's version)

(Sam Carpenter x fem! reader)

Summary: You're Tara's childhood best friend, and years after leaving Woodsboro, you meet her again in New York, making unexpecting feeling emerge. Tara || Sam Warnings: age gap (?) reader is 19 and Sam is 24 a/n: I made another one shot, kinda complementary of this one, with Tara :)) I put the link up there if you're interested (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

She had known you since you were 4, when Tara and you were in the same class for the first time. You were also her neighbor, but she never knew before that.

You were her little sister’s friend. Best friend, even. When Tara wanted to play, it was always you she wanted to play with. And Sam always accompanied her, so she saw you a lot too.

Then, when she was in age to want to have some money, she babysat you and Tara’s other friends. You were always so nice and sweet, always smiling, and opened to hugs.

She liked you a lot. Out of all of her sister’s friends, you were her favorite.

Sadly the time you spent together came to an end when she ran away.

Even if she didn’t, you wouldn’t have been able to see each other a lot more, because your parents had found a new job, and you moved out of Woodsboro a few months after her.

And now, almost 6 years later, you were about to meet again.

Tara and the rest of her friends just left a party , right after Sam barged in and tazzed some dude in the balls. The Carpenter sisters were fighting in the middle of the road, when a random girl threw her soda at Sam.

Half of the group tried to get the girl while the other held them back, trying not to cause too much drama. They didn't see it, but one of the girls was filming the whole thing.

Luckily for everyone, you did see it. You were actually going to that party, and saw the whole scene from afar. You didn't like that kind of attitude at all.

So when the girls walked passed you, you grabbed the phone of the one who was filming, and deleted the video before she could post it.

They all gave you horrified looks, like you did the most horrendous thing.

"That's called karma" you mumbled to yourself while you walked away, in the direction of their victim

She was trying to dry her jumper, when you approached her.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry, people are so dumb sometimes..." you said as she lifted her head up to look at you

As soon as your eyes met each other’s, both of you knew who the other was.

“Sam...?”

“Y/n…?”

You chuckled in surprise, while Sam looked at you with wide eyes at how much you had changed.

"Oh my god..." she murmured "What are you doing in New York? It's really far away from Woodsboro"

"Oh yeah, my parents got a job here, a few months after you left... We never really moved again after. What about you?"

"We needed... fresh air. A new start. Away from Woodsboro and Ghostface"

You had heard about the recent Woodsboro murders, but couldn't believed all the rumors about Sam being the real mastermind behind it all.

"Of course, I understand that" you said with a light smile "You should take off your jumper, you're going to catch a cold..." you continued, taking off your hoodie and handing it to her "I don't know if it's the right size, but at least it'll keep you warm"

Sam gave you a thankful look, and put on your hoodie. It smells like her... she thought.

You smiled, and hugged her without thinking about it. You had missed her a lot more than you would ever admit.

"It’s so nice seeing you again…" you said quietly, as she hugged you back

You stayed like that for a minute, silently enjoying the hug, until you got interrupted.

"Sam, what are you doing?"

You broke the hug to look at the person, who appeared to be Tara, your childhood best friend.

"Y/n?" she smiled as she saw you and opened her arms for a hug

You gave it to her happily, holding her extra tight. Then, you discussed a bit, trying to catch up on each other’s life.

“Oh, I wanted to ask you, would you mind giving me your number? So we can talk” Sam suddenly asked you... a little nervously? You weren't sure.

You nodded and took her phone when she handed it to you, before putting your number in it. You gave it back to her with a big smile.

You were more than happy to see the Carpenter sisters again. Especially one of them.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

Since you gave Sam your phone number, you hadn’t stopped talking. Every day as soon as you woke up, you started texting. You just had so much to catch up onto!

When you weren’t in class, you made a habit of going to the café where Sam was working. Your excuse was that it was always calm, building a good atmosphere to study there. The actual reason was to see her more.

When she was on a break, she would come to your table and either start catting with you, or just keep you company when you were actually working. She would never say it out loud, but she loved the serious look you had when you were concentrated.

She enjoyed your presence in the café. She was glad you chose to sit there to study, for when she had finished her shift, you could spend more time together. She would often walk you home, to make sure you’re safe.

Sometimes you were with Tara, studying together at the café. Sam loved her sister, but in those moments, when Tara and you were laughing together, so close, while she was behind the counter dealing with rude clients… she couldn’t help but feel her heart ache.

You knew that feeling damn well, every time a client was trying to flirt with Sam. Or at least it looked like they were flirting to you. And every time you had to slap yourself mentally, not understanding why you felt that way.

The answer would come a bit later.

You had planned a movie night with Sam at your apartment. You were alone and bored, and she has nothing better to do as Tara was doing homework with the twins.

You were happy to have that moment with her, but also nervous. The time you had spent together since you met again only brought back feelings you thought were just a stupid baby crush. Turns out it isn't just a baby crush. You had a crush on your best friend's sister.

This whole situation gave you anxiety. What you didn't know was that you weren't the only one.

Sam also had a crush on you. Her sister's best friend. Her sister's crush. She always had known Tara had a crush on you, she even thought you would be together at one point.

You would have made such a cute couple. That's what she had thought for a long time. Now she just can't help but feel an ounce of jealousy thinking about it.

And then the guilt strikes. Tara loved you, she couldn't do that to her... And even if she didn't, you were just so much younger than her... 5 years can be a lot, especially since you were young.

But again, imagining you with someone else made her jealous.

She was lost, and torn between telling you how she felt or just trying to forget her feelings.

"What do you want to watch?"

Your voice made her snap out of her thoughts.

"Oh uh... I don't know... Why don't you pick something?"

"Hmm... Okay! There's this movie on Netflix that I wanted to see..." you said, sitting on the couch next to her -at a reasonable distance- and turning on the tv.

While you looked for the movie on Netflix, Sam couldn't keep her eyes away from you. You were just so pretty...

She had trouble concentrating on the movie, often distracted by your presence next to her.

You could feel her eyes on you as the movie played. It wasn't the first time you caught her looking at you, but every time when you looked at her, she had looked away. You had figured it would be the case this time too.

You were wrong.

When you looked at her, her eyes were still on you. At this moment, you were like frozen in place. She had never looked at you like that before.

She had the look you gave her when she was not looking. In love.

While you were gazing into each other's eyes, you both got closer and closer to each other, to the point you could kiss her if you wanted to. And you wanted to. So bad.

"Can I... can I kiss you? Please..." you asked quietly, almost pleading her to let you kiss her

She looked hesitant, but eventually gave in and kissed you, putting a hand on your cheek to keep you close. Kissing you felt so right... as if your lips were made to be kissed by hers.

But again, Tara loved you... and Sam felt like she was betraying her sister.

She pulled away from the kiss.

"I'm sorry I... we shouldn't have done that..."

You felt your heart sink at her words. You thought she liked you back...

Your pain must have been visible on your face, as Sam was quick to talk again.

"It's not against you Y/n... I... I really like you but..." she sighed "Tara has a crush on you since forever... I can't do that to her..."

"What...? Wait... What?" you started, surprised

You never knew Tara had a crush on you. You only ever saw her as your best friend and thought it was the same for her.

"Sam you can't just- you can't just put her feelings above yours... I mean- I understand it's going to be difficult for her... But it's not like we chose that... I- I love you Sam... And Tara's my best friend, her well being is important to me... But seeing you without being able to tell you how I feel or kiss you... it's torture"

As you spoke, you asked yourself if it wasn't too much. Scare her away was the last thing you wanted. But everything you said was true.

Sam was looking at you, mouth agape, clearly not expecting that. She didn't expect you to like her back, let alone make her a whole love declaration.

She wanted to give in and take you in her arms and kiss you again and tell you how much she loved you. She wanted to be as honest with you as you were with her. She wanted to love you openly.

But there would be consequences. Tara would be hurt. Tara would feel betrayed.

But again... you were right. She couldn't put Tara's feelings above hers all the time. She loved you just so much... She wasn't sure she would be able to recover if she didn't give it a shot.

She cupped your face with both hands and kissed you again, more confidently, more passionately than before. She loved you, she wanted that kiss to happen. She wanted you to happen.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

Telling Tara about your relationship was harder than you thought. It never seemed to be the right moment.

Now you saw the hints of her crush on you. You saw the smiles, the looks she gave you, how her tone slightly changed when you were alone.

Both Sam and you were trying to find a good moment to tell her, but it wasn’t easy. And the more you waited, the more difficult it would be to tell her. You had to find a way to tell her quickly.

The whole situation was giving you so much anxiety…

“How are you?” Sam asked as you close your apartment door

“Tired… You?”

“Same”

You took off your shoes and hung your jacket, before sitting on the couch next to her. She pulled you on her lap and wrapped her arms around you, holding you close. Her warm embrace helped you relax a bit, as you nuzzled your face against her neck.

You stayed like that for a while, just enjoying each other in a comfortable silence.

When you pulled away, it was to kiss her. You’d wanted to do that the whole day and couldn’t even tell anyone about it. About her. About how much you loved her.

By the way she kissed you, you knew she felt the same.

Even if she felt bad for her sister, she couldn’t stop herself anymore. Now that she has had the chance to kiss you, she never wanted to stop. She felt so at ease when she was with you. She could be herself without the fear to be judged.

“I love you so much…” she murmured, her grip on your hips tightening ever so slightly

“Me too Sam… I love you too”

You kissed her again, arms around her neck, before hugging her again. You closed your eyes, relaxing in her arms once again.

You had been so stressed for the past days that you had trouble sleeping. But like that, in her arms, it only took you a minute to fall asleep.

Sam didn't notice right away, and started talking to you while rubbing your back.

"... Y/n?" she eventually asked as you weren't answering her

She moved slightly to get a look at your face, and her lips curled up into a soft smile as she saw you were asleep.

"You really were exhausted, hm?" she murmured, kissing your temple softly

She then hesitated before carrying you in her arms, careful not to wake you up, and made her way to your room. She laid you on your bed, putting your blanket over you.

"Goodnight angel..." she whispered before kissing your forehead

She was about to leave when she felt you grab her shirt.

"Don't go, please..." you pleaded quietly

You needed her right now, needed her arms around you, her oh so comforting warmth as she held you close.

Sam bit her bottom lip, thinking, but it didn't take long until she gave in and slipped under the sheets next to you. She couldn't resist you -and she didn't want to be away from you.

She wrapped her arms around you, letting you snuggle up to her.

"Goodnight Sammie..."

Your voice was barely audible, showing how tired you were. Sam smiled at your words, the nickname provoking her cheeks to turn a bit red.

"Sleep well" she said back, kissing the top of your head, before closing her eyes

Having you in her arms like that was just so relaxing. She felt like she was in heaven. The thought of waking up next to you made a smile creep up to her face, and was the last before she fell asleep as well.

The next morning, you woke up in her arms. It had been the best sleep you had in days. You didn't even want to move, you felt so at peace in her arms...

You eventually opened your eyes to see Sam was already awake, a smile on her face.

"Good morning" she said before kissing you

"'morning" you said back, smiling as she rolled on her back, pulling you on top of her without breaking the kiss

You were both in your own world; nothing else mattered at the moment, to the point none of you checked your phones. If you did check your phones, you would've seen tons of missed calls and texts from Tara.

She was worried for her sister didn't come back at their apartment -naturally because she was with you all night.

After some more kisses, you got out of bed and made your way to the kitchen.

"What do you want for breakfast?" you asked Sam

"What do you have?"

"I have... eggs, bacon... bread... Uhh... yeah that's it" you let out an awkward chuckle

"Eggs and bacon sound nice" she smiled

You nodded, and put the bacon in a pan to cook it.

While you were waiting in front of the stove, you felt Sam's hands snicker to your waist. You turned around, and she took the occasion to kiss you.

What you didn't know was that Tara had decided to come to your apartment -as you weren't answering her calls and texts, and currently had a clear view of the scene through your kitchen's window.

She couldn't see who it was, but the scene let little to the imagination; you were clearly kissing someone. So that's why she wasn't answering... she thought

Clearly enjoying the kiss, Sam lifted you up to sit you on the counter, hands on your hips, her lips still on yours.

If Tara felt her heart sink at the sight of the kiss, it was nothing compared to how she felt now.

Her own sister was making out with the girl she has had a crush on for years.

She was mad for it seemed not to be the first time, considering the way you were holding onto each other. Which meant you lied to her.

But knowing you, maybe you just had a hard time telling her. It had always been that way; every time you had bad news to tell her, it took you weeks because you knew it would upset her.

That thought calmed her down a bit.

When she looked at the window again, she saw you smile at Sam just the way she smiled at you. You were in love, that was certain.

You seemed happy. And deep down, that’s what Tara wanted. Seeing you happy.

So she turned around and walked back to her and Sam’s apartment, thinking ‘maybe, in another life, we’ll be together…’

[Tara's version]

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x fem reader #sam carpenter x reader #scream #samantha carpenter

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ladykailitha · 3 months

Text

The Harrington Pattern Part 5

Hello! In this one we have things not getting off to the fun start Steve wanted, but Eddie and Steve show Robin the meditative joys of watching the weavers. And Mike and El get a lesson in when to give to friends.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Once they had all paid Steve gathered up the kids.

“You are to stay in pairs,” he admonished. “I don’t care if you swap every so often but stay in at least pairs. You can stay in great big group for all I care. But no one wanders off alone. If you want to do something and no one else does come find an adult, chances are that one of us six was already going to do it, okay?”

All the kids nodded.

“Everyone is to meet here at 1pm and 6pm for lunch and dinner,” Steve continued. “The adults are exempt but I tried to pick times where there wasn’t anything big going on. Food money was given to me by your parents so you’ll never starve. Drinking fountains are everywhere. Stay hydrated, you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Will nodded. “I’ll make sure they do.”

Steve smiled. “Thanks, Will.” He held up his hand as they were getting into pairs. “One more thing. Your parents gave you money for loot. If you spend it all today and see something you want on Saturday, I will not buy it for you. Now I can’t stop anyone else from doing the same, but you need to watch your money.”

Eddie looked at the other Corroded Coffin boys who all nodded. “I think I can speak for us adults when I say. I ain’t paying for your shit either.”

All the kids turned to Robin like a lion sensing its prey.

“Don’t look at me,” she huffed holding up her hands in surrender. “I’m poor. I’m hoping that someone pretty will buy me pretty things so I don’t have to go without.”

Steve barked out a laugh. “Looks like you’ve been stemmed–stymied–” he frowned. “Looks like you’ve been thwarted all around.”

The kids grumbled but nodded.

Steve smiled. “Now go have fun! I promise, you’ll love it.”

Max and El grabbed each other’s hands and skipped ahead of the boys. Robin smiled.

“That’s the downside to growing up,” she sighed wistfully. “Is adults no longer think holding hands with your best friend is cute, only gay.”

Eddie nodded. “I just don’t care most of the time,” he said with a shrug.

Steve turned to the members of the band. “Are you guys going to be staying together for the most part or will you be splitting up? I just want to make sure I know where people are going to be.”

Gareth and Jeff shared an amused glance.

“What?” Steve asked, putting his hands on his hips.

“Eddie said you were such a mom friend,” Gareth explained, “but I didn’t believe it.”

“Yeah, man,” Jeff chuckled. “It’s cute.”

Steve crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked down, scuffing the dirt with the toe of his boot.

Brian waved his hands. “It’s not bad. It’s just a surprise.”

Jeff cocked his head to side. “Maybe not that big of one after seeing how he handled Mike...”

Brian laughed. “Fair enough.”

Eddie walked over and lifted Steve’s chin up gently. “It’s sweet, Stevie. We aren’t mocking you for it, okay?”

Steve nodded.

Suddenly Robin coughed into her fist that sounded a little like ‘gay’.

Eddie and Steve almost leaped back from each other while their friends laughed.

“Laugh it up, fuzzball,” Eddie muttered as he stalked past his friends.

Steve just stood there as the rest of them followed Eddie in. All but Robin.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” she mumbled. “I thought you two were cute, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. That’s the last thing I thought it would do.”

Steve just shrugged and then led the way into the Fair grounds. Robin’s eyes lit up as the sights, and sounds, and smells came at her all at once.

There were people in jeans and t-shirts but also people in various states of costume, ranging from beginner to professional. The period ranges were vast, too. From the early 14th century to the very, very beginning of the 20th.

Robin was in awe.

“Steeeeveeee,” she said, smacking his arm repeatedly. “This is amazing!”

Steve turned to her and smiled. “I told you.”

She hugged him around the neck. “You did and you were right. Those kids brains must have exploded on entry.”

He chuckled. “Well, thankfully I don’t see any brain goo anywhere, so I think they’re safe.”

She threw back her head and laughed. “Fair enough.”

“Where do you want to go first?” Steve asked, taking a pamphlet from Fair worker that had all the events and times on it.

She peeked over his shoulder and hummed thoughtfully.

“There isn’t a lot going on today.”

Steve shrugged. “All the big events like the joust are going to be on Saturday when they have the biggest crowds. But there are still some fun things we can do.” He pointed to the events under that day. “We can watch the weavers or battle a knight.”

“You better not do that one,” she said with a grin.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Why? Because you think I’ll lose?”

She swatted his arm. “No, dingus, because you might accidentally pulverize the guy.”

Suddenly there was another arm being slung around Steve’s shoulders.

“I must concur with the lady pirate, mi’lord,” Eddie said cheerfully. “I’ve seen you fight, handsome. You’d accidentally kill the poor actor.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks.”

He looked around but he didn’t see the rest of Eddie’s merry band. “Where are your friends?”

Eddie sighed. “Already succumbed the siren lures of capitalism.”

Steve blinked at him a moment. “Huh?”

Eddie pointed a little further down the way where the market had been set up. “They’re at the sword stall.”

Steve’s mouth formed an O and he nodded. “Yeah, I don’t doubt that’s where the kids are, too.”

“That’s because there is nothing else to do,” Robin pointed out. “Not all of us want to watch people make clothes.”

Eddie’s lit up. “They’re already showing the weavers?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, you want to come with me?”

“Hell yeah!” he crowed. He grabbed Robin’s wrist. “You’ll love this.”

And he started dragging her to where the looms, Steve laughing, close behind.

They reached building it was housed in and Eddie stepped aside to allow her to see into the room.

It was brightly lit from them many windows in the room. There were different looms from different eras and different levels of expertise. There was even a cute little blonde girl barely older than Holly, Mike’s little sister in one corner with her starter loom, still making mistakes but being patiently guided by someone who looked to be her mom.

But the true center piece was this amazing Asian loom at the back. The weaver was in a kimono and face paint, but her hands danced along the loom making it seem like she had more than usual two.

Robin was smitten.

Eddie smiled back at her and then grabbed her wrist again to pull her into the room.

The little girl’s mother looked up and smiled at them. “Welcome!” she greeted warmly. “We, of the weavers guild, greet you. I am Goody Danvers. If you have any questions please direct them at me so our weavers aren’t disturbed.”

All three of them nodded and began to wander around. Robin was forced to admit that it was way more than just making clothes or even cloth. It was artistry and technique that was just beautiful to watch.

She was, of course, drawn to the Asian loom with its beautiful weaver.

Steve on the other hand went straight for Goody Danvers. He was asking her all sorts of questions and she just lit up with someone expressing genuine interest in the weaving.

Then Steve asked the question. “You thread is amazing. Do you spin it yourself?”

Goody Danvers face was like the sun with how happy that question made her. “We do! Do you guys want to see how we do it?”

Steve nodded enthusiastically while Robin was loathed to leave the beautiful weaver.

“You go ahead,” she murmured never taking her eyes off the scene the woman was weaving into her tapestry.

Steve’s shoulders slumped a little. But Eddie came skipping up to them. “Prick any princesses’ fingers lately?” he teased Goody Danvers.

She wagged her finger at him. “Do you be going around calling me a witch, I might get burned at the stake.”

Steve and Eddie laughed and mimed zipping their lips closed and throwing away the key.

She led them to the backroom where there were other women spinning. Steve figured these were the ones that didn’t like being watched because more than half of them stopped what they were doing the moment they walked in.

He smiled his best babysitter smile and waved like an absolute dork. One of the teenaged girls blushed and turned away.

Eddie frowned, putting his hands on his lower back. He was about to turn back around and rejoin Birdie when he felt a warm hand on his elbow. Steve wasn’t looking at the pretty red-head that blushed at his dorky wave, he was looking at him. Hazel eyes almost antique silver in the natural light.

“You okay?” Steve whispered.

Eddie nodded. “It’s just dustier in here than I thought it would be.”

Goody Danvers nodded. “No fire of any kind allowed in this room. A simple spark could cause a powder keg in here and I don’t feel like leveling the Fair this year.”

“What type of materials do you use for your thread?” Steve asked, his hand never leaving Eddie’s elbow.

And they just listened to her talk about the different types of threads and what they were used for and Eddie felt the warmth in Steve’s presence as he paid her his rapt attention.

Was that was he looked like when he talked about DnD or metal music? Because if it was Steve never looking away from him when talked suddenly made a lot of sense. It was addicting watching Steve engage with someone who shared his interests.

Steve looked down at his watch. “Shit. We’ve got to go meet some people for lunch. But thank you for taking your time to show me everything and answer all my questions.”

Good Danvers smiled. “The pleasure was all mine. It was nice to find a young man who was so interested in what I had to say.” She walked over to a basket.

“Here, pick out a bundle of thread you like as my treat.”

Steve really lit up then. “Thanks!” He went through the basket and picked out this beautiful red silk thread.

“Good choice,” she said. “I know you’ll make something truly remarkable with it.”

Steve blushed and said thank you again as Eddie led him out. They were forced to drag Robin back out of the building.

“Food,” Steve insisted. “Actually...” he had spotted a water fountain. “Water first then food.”

Eddie took a long drink, his throat dry from the spinning room. Robin went next and then Steve.

They barely made it to the food court just under the wire. Some of the kids were already there. Max and Lucas, Dustin, too. Gareth was there, but Jeff and Brian weren’t yet.

Dustin looked at his watched and tapped like a disapproving father. “Just what time do you call this, hmmm?”

Steve burst out laughing as Eddie threw his arm around his shoulders.

“Like father like son,” Eddie teased.

Dustin gasped, offended.

It wasn’t too long before El, Mike, and Will showed up, cutting it even finer than they had, arriving at 1pm exactly.

Steve just raised an eyebrow as they skidded to a stop in front of their table.

Steve got them their food and most of them were half way through their lunch by the time Jeff and Brian had wandered into the food court.

Everyone was talking about all the things they had seen and their plans for the rest of the day and maybe Steve was more than a little pleased that they hadn’t spent all their money.

Everyone was talking but Will. So Steve slid over to the young boy and nudged his shoulder.

“Hey, what’s up?” he whispered.

Mike looked up at them and then began to poke at his plate.

Alarm bells were going off in Steve’s head.

“There was this really cool wizard’s staff at one of the stalls,” Will said. “But it costs ten dollars more than what I have on me.”

“I offered to give him some of mine,” Mike said, “but he wouldn’t take it.”

Steve got it. “Ah.”

“It’s your money, Mike,” Will protested. “Buy something you want.”

“I want to buy it for you,” Mike bit back.

El poked at her food too. “I too, offered to help him buy it but he wouldn’t let me either.”

Eddie stood up and motioned for Mike and El to follow him, while Steve scooted closer to Will. “I’m sorry you couldn’t afford it and it’s hard when you want something so bad and it’s just out of reach.”

Will nodded. “But somehow I don’t think you specifically are talking about a wizard’s staff.”

Steve looked up at were Eddie was talking to Mike and El, and then ducked his head shyly. “No, you’re right there.”

Will gave his hand a squeeze. “For what it’s worth, I think he likes you too.”

Steve squeezed his hand right back. He just hoped Will was right.

****

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

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