#the view from the orange stage | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moondirti · 7 days

Text

simon sees a familiar face. (AO3 mirror) tags: darkfic. ghost x nude model! reader. (given a stage name but no discerning characteristics.) violent intrusive thoughts. objectification. rough sex. marking. dacryphilia. possessiveness. dubcon photo sharing.

It's the slip of her skin in his periphery. Moisturised, gold shimmer body glaze. Tucked up against the bar and nursing a negroni in both hands, her dress riding high up on her thigh. Sticks out like a sore thumb in a pub like this, where seedy men come to drink their woes away. Just a little too clean, prim and perfect polish. Pretty enough to make his teeth hurt.

He has to do a double take before he can be sure. Where he would know her calves, those hands and varnished nails, anywhere, he can hardly believe it until she turns a quarter angle and her face comes into full view. Lips he's seen perked up and glossed into erotic O's. Eyes so often half-cast and sultry, lined in kohl, that it's odd to see them wide like this; looking around, searching for something.

Yeah. Simon knows her. Knows her like the grip of a gun, the rip release of a hand grenade, the flat lining of barrack cot mattresses. Knows her so well that his cock chubs up in an almost pavlovian response, fat and heavy and leaking already, like a bloody sixth former seeing a pair of tits for the first time. In all honesty, this might just be the equivalent for a man like himself. Aching jowls, frothy lips. Ageing, dirty beast – thrown the most delectable fucking bone.

Because it's her. Cut straight from the centrefold of his favourite magazine and pasted a mere four feet away. Just as alluring, as provocative as she is in the poster he'd gifted Johnny on a deployment birthday. The object gracing every page not adhered together with dry cum. The one thing that gets him – and frankly, every other mutt on the task force – through long missions.

He throws back the last of his bourbon and slips his mask back over his chin. The haunt is emptier than usual. He assumes the big guy by the doorway is responsible, no doubt hired to follow her around and scare the creeps away. Simon must count as one – if his intentions, latched like filthy claws in his stomach, are anything to go by – but he's also bigger. Bolder. Probably has tattoos that outlast her bodyguard's experience in the field. So he takes his chances as he stretches up and prowls up to where she's sitting.

"Selene Harlow." It's a stage name, of that he's certain. But he has nothing else to call her by, not having fallen short of searching for her true identity. She's good at keeping herself safe from perverts like him. A good fucking girl, if not a little minx.

"Only on the clock." She smiles softly, dipping the orange peel in and out of her drink. It looks untouched, glass sweating onto the bar top. He thinks of holding her head back by her hair and knocking the concoction down her throat. "You don't look like my date."

Simon makes a sound. "No' your usual type, then?"

"I didn't say that." Her dress is low cut, bandage tight. When she breathes in, he devours the way her chest heaves out of the material. Begging to pop free, or else be ripped open right here. He can't imagine she would be opposed to being stripped in public. Not with her breasts plastered on a million different publications, issues displayed in the illicit material case behind every gas station counter.

"Well, he must be soft in th'head."

She shrugs. "Don't sound so surprised." Simon wonders, if he were to press his thumbs down onto each collarbone, how much pressure it would take to snap them in place. He's always liked the delicate arch of her shoulders, the swan-like column of her neck. With how he fixated he is on them now, he can hardly place the dejection in her voice. "Not a lot of people wanna go out with a girl who does what I do. It was only a matter of time before he found out."

"Can' be too pissed at him, a'suppose."

"Hm?"

"His loss is my gain."

"Aha." A flash of teeth. She turns on the bar stool to fully face him, and her knees knock his. Soft fucking legs, plush like a chew toy and he knows– he knows what they look like completely nude and spread open. But nothing could've quite prepared him for how different it is to see them in real life. To see her – real, fleshly, blood full – and not be able to take. Have to hold himself back despite the way he's pumped himself raw to her arse almost a hundred times now. He lost the plot some time ago. His mind must think of her as his. "Is that what this is?"

And what is this? Simon doesn't have a name for it. All he knows is the way his head itches, the tantalisation crawling in his skin. The sheer self-restraint it takes not to pocket her home and chain her to his bed. He wants to dig his teeth into her cheek.

Instead–

"Could be."

"I think that's up to me." She crinkles in a wily little smile and he chuckles because it's funny. Funny because she takes him to be a good man. But with the way her bodyguard is eyeing him from across the room (fucking muppet), he knows that's not the quality he's projecting. There's the urge to crack a sick joke, something about clipping a bird's wings, just to see her pick up on the rot he carries with him. "You military?"

"Tha' obvious?"

"Hm, no. Wild guess." She straightens her back and the vague gesture she makes with her wrist is enough to drive him up a wall. It sets a timer, ticking time bomb, in his brain that'll detonate if he doesn't get his nasty old hands on her waist. Thirty seconds on the clock. He can never be patient when it comes to sweet things. "Your... stature. And I tend to be popular with servicemen, anyway. What's your name?"

"And why do you wan' to know my name, bird?"

She flutters her lashes, pointedly looking down to where he's bulging in his jeans. Bird is right. She shines like one with pretty feathers, begs to be plucked, because why else would mother nature create things like her if not to appease men like him?

"Figure you'd want me to moan it later."

And it's like watching one fly into a cage on its own accord. His blood boils hot and thin, flooding his head until his eyes strain with something ferocious. "Why wait." Simon says. He can't wrap an arm around her waist fast enough, scooping her from her seat and wrapping her tight against his side. Tight enough that, if she changed her mind, she wouldn't be able to flap her way out of it. "Name's Simon, and there's a bathroom 'round back."

It's nasty. Depraved. Graffiti lines all four walls and it's no coincidence that the one he pins her up against looks the filthiest. Something in him craves to see her degraded (the same part that marked a picture of her in black ink, chicken-scratch body writing proclaiming her as his), brought down to the same peg that he occupies. Beasts with too much baggage stored in their marrow. Humans, men, with moral compasses that skew a tad too far left. Animals. Animalistic.

"I don– Don't usually do this..." She breathes, excuse stuttered through little whimpers as he mouths at her jaw. Maybe she's afraid of living up to her name, or whatever image Selene Harlow projects. Not a prostitute, he can almost hear her say. Tastes the fear of misconception, sour on otherwise tart skin. He hums and tugs her breasts free with one, scarred paw.

"Doesn' really matter, bird. Were fuckin' made for it." He squeezes the two mounds, pinches knotted nipples and rolls them between his fingers until she cries. Her voice breaks in little bubbled sobs – starts crying so fast that, christ, it must be some sort of record – and he aches in his trousers. Ready to burst if he doesn't bully his cock into a hole soon, just like she's been ready to be unravelled all night. "Made to be mine, yeah? Bloody 'ell, jus' look at you."

Frayed little tapestry. If he weren't so mad with lust, he'd obsess what drove her to this point. What brought her to some shitty pub in Manchester to meet a good for nothing lemon. Why she mewls and completely melts into him when he slaps her tits, just to see the way they jiggle. He's an ugly bastard, definitely punching just by breathing the same air as her, and yet she's so perfectly willing. Flaying herself open, skinned alive. Gasping selfish gulps of air when he finally pulls off his mask to sink his canines into her shoulder.

He's so used to seeing her posed, perfectly still. To have her like this, a trapped worm underneath him, feels like concentrated lightning on every artery. Overstimulating. Paralysing. He never thought he'd see the day where she exposes herself in motion: folding her dress up over her wide hips, slipping soaked panties down to her ankles.

(In fact, he vividly remembers brooding over an interview her magazine had added to the corner of a cover page, once. Selene Harlow tells all! Answers inquiries on video pornography and more!

I don't think I'm the right person for that sort of scene. Not much of an actress, I'm afraid.)

Not that her feigning was ever a concern. Simon knows the giddy gossamer over her eyes can't be artificially replicated. She's too clumsy, too amateur in the way she readies herself for him. Used to doing all this prep in a frilly dressing room with apathetic staff members directing her. Sways a bit on her heels and holds onto his thick forearms as she widens her stance. He stands until she's steady, then drops to his knees in search of the star of this show.

And the sight is as much a bludgeon to his self control as seeing her for the first time was, trigger for the feral mongrel that barks and chomps on his ribcage. Her cunt is just as perfect up close in this grimy bathroom as it is well lit, professionally oiled, and printed on coated paper. A little fuzzy, swollen enough that it flowers open for him on its own. Shyly inviting him to dig his nose right under her clit and inhale, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the scent of her, undiluted. Salivate blooms around his teeth.

When he flattens his tongue against it, she tries to find purchase in the roots of his shorn hair. Nails scrambling along the buzzcut until she forfeits and clamps her hand behind his ears, head thrown back to knock against the wall. If he were a nice man, he would spend hours buried between her legs. Sated by licking her slick from its source, like a kitten given a bowl of cream. Would make her cum until she forgets how to keep quiet, until she screams his name loud enough for the world knows their muse is off the market now.

But if he were a nice man, he wouldn't be defiling her here. He would've taken her out to the Greek place that never seems to have room for him alone, and then back to her apartment, where he'd drop her off with a chaste kiss and a promise to call her tomorrow.

So Simon combs through her lips once, twice, three times. Coats her in enough spit to be able to shove two fingers with little fuss, and scissors them apart. The little thing stretches to accommodate his ministrations immediately, clutch swallowing him up to the second knuckle and sucking around him when he spreads her hole for his leering eye. It's cute – so fucking cute how she clenches and keens and cries. Neck arched up above him. Apple of eden, blank canvas. His fingers leave her cunt as he rises to bite into it.

(Truthfully, she could've done with more prep. She wasn't lying when she said she doesn't do this often, whatever this is. But the way silver pebbles brim on her lash-line makes his chest twist, the dog rearing on its haunches, ready to pounce – and he thinks he'd like to see her babble in pain as he splits her open on his cock.)

"Gonna take you home after this, y'hear? Fuck you well 'n' good, all proper like. Fold ya over a mattress and print my cock on your guts, birdie. Never let you forget it. "

"S-Si! Simon, please. I n-need..."

Ichor beads in the shape of his teeth, streaking oxygenated red down her throat. He makes a mess of it, smearing it across the marred patch of skin, and brings the fluid up to her face to rub it into her cheek. The type of marking he'd reserve for his third or fourth going with someone – if anyone ever lasts that long – but is absolutely necessary right now. Here, with her. Technically their hundredth something time together, if he were deranged enough to count the various times he'd spent himself over her spreads.

But nothing can supersede the truth of the matter. He streaks blood along her face and licks it off in a show of merciless possession. Pretty things like her get plucked off streets and ruined everyday, despite her cynicism on her value, and he can point to at least three other men by name who would slaughter to be in his place. Best to stake his claim now, clamp a collar on the exotic fowl he pulled down from the sky.

"Need wha', hm?" His tongue laps at her cheek, laving over the contour of her nose and swiping right under her eye to catch the tears that freely fall. She winces when he gets too close, hands faltering along his waistband.

"Your... d-dick. Please, please. Just wanna be fucked, Simon."

He plants a rough kiss onto her mouth, all teeth and tongue, and finally ladles himself free of his jeans.

Just wanna be fucked.

Daft, silly girl.

She should've chosen anyone else.

It takes a bit of pressure to feed himself into her cunt, pinning either leg to the sides of his hips as he guides his cock toward the opening. If she was putty before, she's positively liquid now, boneless rag doll slumped onto him. Dead weight. Letting him take control of this fight. Content to do nothing, slack-jawed and empty eyed as her hot walls come to embrace him completely. Her breath halts, the air recalibrating to just the sound of his ragged grunts, and he considers it an invitation to wrap a fist around her neck.

"I'll do more than jus' fuck you, pretty thing. Won' ever let you out of my sight."

And he means it.

It's impossible to withdraw completely from her – vacuum sealed too tight, too good, around him. So he fucks in short thrusts instead, snapping his pelvis back, only to shove forward once her legs begin to flail about. It's brutal even by his standards, rough in a way that supplants pleasure with pain. A small pity surfaces when her lip trembles, discomfort wringing her darling face up like a dish towel. Wet and pathetic, but he sneaks his free hand down to knead at her swollen clit anyway.

Like oil, it slips and hardens, tense enough that he knows she won't last long if he keeps it up.

Simon feels his own release encroaching. Unfurling at the base of his spine to form something cruel and primal. His vision tunnels to fixate on her – not the filthy bathroom or the lewd squelch of her pussy taking him in. Not the banging on the door by a customer desperately needing to piss, or otherwise, her bodyguard concerned at the choked screams carved from her lungs. Just her. Little bird.

The howling in his head doesn't stop, but it sure as hell quiets down when she soaks the coarse hairs at the base of his cock. Squirts, off-white fluid gushing from her and trickling onto the tiled floor. His movements grow stilted, off-rhythm, at the sight. His want grows claws and scales, grows wants that have wants. Beastly. He sees red.

"N-noghonbirfcontraahl." She gasps, suffocated still by the fingers pressing crescent-shaped scars beneath her jaw.

"Don' give a shit." He growls, then cums.

(Really, he doesn't. To see her swell up with his child is just one more added temptation, carrot on a stick. He bucks like a rabid animal and bookmarks that thought away for later.)

His seed doesn't stay put when he pumps her full of it. It gathers and drips out of her, undeterred by the barrage of his softening cock. When he pulls out, it draws milky treks down her legs. There's the instinct to shovel it back into her, tape her lips shut until the spend takes; but as he pockets her panties and helps her readjust her dress (after polishing himself clean on the expensive fabric), he finds he quite likes the thought of parading her around like this.

"C'mon," He nips her earlobe. "let's walk you home."

Simon does end up making good on his promise. They hardly get any sleep that night, sweating on every available surface her flat affords. By the end of it, she's so tuckered out that he has to lift her to bed. Hardly cognisant as he strips to his boxers and sidles up right next to her.

What doesn't escape her notice, however, is when he pulls his phone out to snap a picture of her like this. Fucked to oblivion, puffy pussy oozing about three loads worth of cum.

"W-what are you–" Stuttered. Panicked, like a pet that has at last realised it's been caged.

"Shhhh, birdie. You're my model, ain't you? Let me show you off, yeah? Won' let it get into the wrong hands."

"Promise?" She whimpers, tucking into his broad chest. She isn't in the condition to give her proper assent, but he takes it anyway, kissing both eyes and carding his fingers across her scalp.

"Promise." He mutters, then sends the portrait off. "Jus' to men like me."

Sgt. Garrick: ?! Is that Capt. Price: Christ, Simon. Someone ought to muzzle you. Johnny: I don't believe you. Johnny: Pick up my calls. Johnny: SIMON.

#should've made this a proper fic #it's longer than i expected it to be #anyway.#simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon 'ghost' riley #simon riley #ghost #x female reader #call of duty #fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

girlgenius1111 · 5 months

Text

resistance & persistence

angst, fluff, injury / injury recovery. claudia pina x reader.

R suffers and injury during a game, and struggles in the aftermath to accept help from Claudia.

You knew it was bad the moment you went down; if the pain wasn't enough of an indicator, the crack you heard definitely was. The game had been going well; a champions league group stage game against Benfica at home in Barcelona, that your team was leading by several goals. You might have been about to score again, having just nutmegged a defender. You had one defender left to beat, streaking towards the goal, when she decided to foul you. Instead of just tripping you up, though, she threw a foot out, stomping down on the inside of your ankle, sending it bending the complete wrong way.

You fell hard onto the ground, immediately rolling up into a little ball on your side, grasping at your ankle. You let out a cry of pain that could be heard across the field, and much to your dismay, you could feel tears pricking your eyelids. You kept your face pressed into the grass, it poking harshly against your skin, even as you felt a hand on your back, trying to roll you over.

"Come on chica, let me see," Patri spoke softly, her hand patting your back lightly to prompt you to move. Fighting back a sob, you shook your head into the grass, a few tears escaping.

You'd never felt pain like this before. You played a professional sport, and you were a pretty aggressive player too, not a stranger to injuries. The pain radiating from your ankle was mind numbing, sharp and hot, throbbing under where your hands wrapped tight around it.

A new voice spoke, firmer than Patri's: "Si, y/n, vamos," and Mapi's hands pulled your shoulder, forcing you onto your back. Your eyes were still squeezed shut, and you let out another whimper of pain at the slight movement . Your senses were slowly returning to you as you got used to the pain, and you could hear loud voices arguing with the ref. Cracking your eyes open, you saw Mapi and Patri leaning over you, both looking concerned.

"What hurts? Do you need the physios?" Mapi questioned, and you could only nod your head, looking up at her through tear-blurred vision. Taking a deep breath, you answered her first question.

"Ankle. It's bad," was all you could get out before you clenched your jaw back together, another wave of pain washing over you. Mapi motioned to the sidelines, calling for the physios, before she turned her attention back to you, grabbing one of your hands and holding tightly.

"How bad?" she asked. You opened your mouth to try to speak, but a sob came out before you could stop it, and suddenly you were crying. "Okay, okay, you're alright, everything is gonna be fine." Mapi's voice was soft, and you could hear worry bleeding into her tone. You never cried, and you never stayed down long after a tackle, even if it hurt. For you to still be on the ground, openly crying, and asking for the physios, it was clear that your injury was bad.

You brought a hand up to cover your eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. You tried to control your tears as the physios arrived, taking Mapi's place by your side, forcing you to answer their questions. When they called for the heinous orange stretcher, you felt yourself dissolve into another wave of emotion; not being able to walk off the field meant that this was as bad as it felt, as bad as you thought it would be. As they moved you onto the stretcher, every worst case scenario was flashing across your brain; crutches, months away from the game, surgery, each thought worse than the last.

The medical team lifted you into the air, and you tried to muster a smile to your teammates as they patted your arms while you were walked by them. The stretcher came to a halt, though, before you reached the sidelines, and Alexia's face came into view, her brow furrowed with worry. She must have been able to tell what you were thinking, because she pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, and paired it with a "don't spiral; whatever it is, we've got you." The words of your captain did not really do much to make you feel better, but you appreciated the effort.

You were walked back into the facility, a flurry of activity following you. You felt your mind shut down as the medics worked around you, manipulating your ankle and asking questions. The feelings bubbling up inside of you were too much, so you pushed them down, instead focusing on the pain in your ankle. You were whisked off for an x-ray, which would be the real test as to how bad it was.

-----

You lay with your eyes shut on the exam table, the room empty. 2 and a half months. Maybe 3. The words the doctor had spoken were rattling around inside your brain, and you willed yourself to feel nothing, to be strong. You heard the door open, and someone slip in, and you knew who it would be before you opened your eyes; the one person guaranteed to ruin your perfectly crafted mask of stability, and at the same time, the person whose presence you craved more than anything.

A hand came to lightly cup your cheek, and you opened your eyes to see your favorite striker looking down at you, her usual dimples absent from her face, replaced with a frown of concern.

"Hi, hermosa. How are you feeling?" Claudia questioned, voice dripping with care.

"Hurts." Your response came out choked, and you felt a tear slip down your cheek. Claudia carefully wiped it away, still looking into your eyes, as if she could take your pain away if she only knew the extent of it.

"I'm sorry, amor. Let's get you home, yeah?" You nodded, and allowed her to help you sit up. She helped you strap the boot onto your foot, and she chuckled lightly when you glared at the crutches, instead of taking them from her outstretched hands.

"You want me to ask Ingrid if she'll carry you?" Claudia teased, knowing you would rather crawl to the car than ask someone to carry you. You sighed, taking the crutches from her and standing, already hating the feeling of being so off balance. Claudia pressed a light kiss to your lips, before grabbing both of your bags, which you hadn't noticed her come in with. You headed to the car, and you quietly thanked her for grabbing your stuff, appreciating that she knew you wouldn't want to face the team right now.

You moved slowly, the standing position forcing blood to rush into your foot, and you winced in pain at every movement. Claudia patiently kept pace with you, opening the car door and helping you slide in. She put the crutches in the back, and made sure you were comfortable before climbing into the drivers seat. It was a fairly practiced routine; Claudia had spent a lot of time in a boot and on crutches last season, and now the roles were reversed.

As she drove, she reached over, grabbing one of your hands in hers, and brought it to her lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. You smiled weakly at her, and she squeezed your hand, keeping a hold of it in her lap. You settled in for the drive, focusing on taking deep breaths. You stared out the window at the pink-orange sunset, and actively worked to shove every single feeling you had down, locking your emotions into a little box. By the time you arrived home with Claudia, you felt numb, completely shut off from your feelings. You knew she could tell, and you knew she was actively trying to think of ways to bring you out of this shell, get you to be vulnerable.

You'd always struggled with showing your emotions, and allowing yourself to properly feel them. It had taken months before you allowed yourself to admit you liked Claudia, and several more months before you let her see you in any state that wasn't happy. Whenever something bad happened, she was forced to watch you retreat back into yourself, your first instinct to hide away any weakness. She hated it, but she knew you were just trying to protect yourself, and she had promised herself a long time ago to never let you push her away.

-----

It had been two weeks, and Claudia was practically bouncing off the walls in frustration. Two weeks of you resisting her help, of answering all her questions with one word answers. Two weeks since she'd since anything but a blank, straight face on you. She knew you were hurting; just like any player, you hated being injured and being forced to sit out. More than that, though, you really struggled with feeling useless. You couldn't DO anything, your broken ankle putting you on crutches for weeks. It was impossible to get around, to do most tasks without help, and you hated, hated, that Claudia had to take care of you. Of course, she didn't care, but her efforts to convince you of this had failed, and she could tell that you spent every waking moment trying to figure out how to be as little trouble as possible.

Claudia noticed the way you leaned into her every touch, even when you told her you could do something by yourself, and the way your hand would reach out to grab hers almost desperately in your sleep, as if afraid she would disappear . The only time Claudia had seen you consciously act like yourself, though, was when she had a nightmare, waking you up with her squirming. You had woken her up, pulling her into your arms and cradling her gently, wiping away her tears and soothing her back to sleep. The next morning, you had asked her if she was okay, and when she said that she was, you had gone back to acting like an emotionless robot.

She'd talked to some of your older teammates, and they'd stopped by, trying to get you to open up. All of them had failed; Lucy and Mapi with jokes, almost doing a standup routine in your living room, before blindsiding you with questions of how you were feeling, really. Ingrid with her sweet, comforting words, trying to melt your frosty exterior with kindess. Even Alexia and Irene's joint tough love approach hadn't worked. They'd all given up and left, but not before making you promise to reach out to them, day or night, if you needed anything.

Claudia was at a loss- she'd truly never seen you like this before, and she was going crazy worrying about you. You should have known, really, that it would only be a matter of time before she snapped.

-----

You were trying to get up off the couch, and get a snack from the kitchen when the tension between the two of you came to a head.

"What do you need? I can grab it for you." Her voice came from the doorway, having heard your clumsy movements.

"I got it," you replied, just as your crutch caught on the edge of the carpet, almost sending you tumbling forward. You caught yourself just in time, as Claudia lurched across the room to help steady you.

"Bebe, just tell me what you need, I'll grab it," she was almost begging at this point, and she could see you getting annoyed.

"I said I got it, Claudia," your tone was harsh, and Claudia felt all sense of restraint leave her body.

"Well, excuse me for trying to help, it seemed like you just almost face planted onto our carpet."

"Jesus, I don't need you hovering over me all the time, I'm FINE." You were almost shouting now, glaring at Claudia. You knew you were being unreasonable, but suddenly you were filled to the brim with anger and annoyance, and it had to go somewhere. Unfortunately, your sweet girlfriend seemed like the only option.

She shouted back. "Fine? You're fine? Fine is completely shutting down and refusing to talk about what you're going through? Fine is pushing yourself so hard on your physical therapy exercises that they had to tell you to take a break before you did more damage? Fine is treating me like you hate me any time I try to help you? Y/n, you are clearly not fine, and I am losing my mind trying to get you to admit it, it's infuriating."

Your reaction to her words was as if she'd hit you, and she realized her mistake a second too late. Your biggest fear was being a burden to her, and she'd just made it sound like you were exactly that. She took in your appearance, your messy ponytail, baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants, and the dark circles under your eyes. Your expression made her heart hurt, one of fear and hurt. She was still angry, though, and she knew if she didn't stop this fight right here, you would lash out at her, and she would do the same.

"Alright, I need some air. I'm gonna go for a drive, maybe stop by Patri's for a bit, and we can talk when I get back," she turned away from you, grabbing her keys, and walking to the door before pausing, and facing you again. You were standing stock still, supported by your crutches, staring at the ground. "Please stay downstairs, and if you need something or something happens, call me. Please." You nodded, in response, avoiding eye contact, and she left the house, closing the door tightly behind her.

You stood in the same spot for a couple minutes, mind racing through the past couple weeks. You hadn't meant to be so distant and cold; you felt so guilty for needing her help with everything, you didn't want to make her deal with you emotions too. More than that, you didn't want to deal with how upset you were; you worried that if you let yourself feel it, it would swallow you whole.

Claudia was the most important thing to you though; more than football, more than anything. You'd give it all up for her, without a second thought. So, you promised yourself you'd try to do better, try to let her in more.

You still wanted a snack, so you headed into the kitchen. You went to open the fridge, but you'd positioned your crutches in the wrong spot, and the fridge door swung open, knocking one of the crutches out from under you. Off balance, you grabbed for the counter, but missed, your other crutch shooting out from it's spot next to you, and you tipped sideways, landing hard on your boot, before ending up sprawled on your back.

You groaned in pain, pounding your fist on the floor in frustration after a minute. Sitting up, you tried to take stock of your injury- it ached, but not to the extent that you were worried you'd made the break worse. You scooted back against the cabinets, and reached for your crutches, before realizing one of them had snapped during the fall. You hand't even know that was possible. You looked around for anything else to help you get off the cold hardwood floors, and found nothing. The counters were too high, one crutch wasn't enough. You were stuck.

Your foot hurt, you were hungry, you couldn't get up, and you just wanted Claudia. Tears welled up in your eyes again, and you didn't know if it was from pain, frustration, or if everything was finally just catching up to you. Taking a deep breath and forcing yourself to think logically, you tried to decide who to call. You knew Claudia had told you to call her, but you couldn't help but think that she deserved a break, and she'd much rather hang out with Patri than come pick you up off the floor.

You were left to decide between Ingrid and Mapi, and Alexia; you knew any of them would drop everything to come help. Although Alexia was fully capable of helping you, and she lived closer than the other girls, you knew she'd call Claudia, and probably drag you off to a doctor to get your ankle checked again. So, with a shaky hand, and the thought that you were incredibly glad you'd had your phone in your pocket, you dialed Mapi's number.

"Hola nena, what's up?" You noted a hint of concern already present in her voice, and you knew it was because you calling her on the phone was not a normal occurrence. You'd text, or facetime, but never call.

"Um... are you and Ingrid around?" You tried to keep your voice steady, but you don't think it worked.

"Si, we're just at home. Why, what's wrong?"

"I um. Fell in the kitchen. And one of my crutches broke, and I can't get up. And Claudia is out and I don't want to bother her. Could you guys come and help me?" You felt your insides twist in embarrassment ; you hated this, hated it more than anything.

"Shit, of course. Are you okay?" She sounded frantic suddenly, and you hated that you'd worried her.

"Yeah, my ankle hurts a bit from how I landed, but I'm fine."

"Good. We're on our way, just hang tight until we get there, vale?" Mapi sounded reassuring, and you let her words wash over you, trying to relax.

"Si, thank you Mapi." Your voice was thick, and you felt yourself losing your tight grip on your mask of stability. You willed yourself to hold it together for a little longer, just until Claudia got home.

Your friends must have broken several traffic laws because they were at your house within 10 minutes when it normally takes 20. They came bursting through the door, rushing into the kitchen. They came to a stop at the sight of you, taking in your dejected form sitting on the ground. Your crutches lay next to you, one broken, and you looked up at them pathetically, eyes glossy.

"Oh, honey," Ingrid cooed, before walking forward and gathering you into her arms. They'd never really seen you like this before; it was clear you were growing more and more emotional with every passing second. This was emphasized by the way you curled into Ingrid as she carried you to the couch. She set you down, and you buried your face in your hands, trying to take slow, deep breaths, and stave off the breakdown you felt coming.

Ingrid sat next to you, rubbing circles onto your back, as Mapi crouched in front of you, taking off your boot gently, and inspecting your ankle.

"It looks okay. If it feels worse or different tomorrow, you should go in, but I think you're fine for now," she stated confidently .

You wanted to make a joke and ask her where she got her medical license from, but when you opened your mouth to speak, the only thing that came out was a choked sound, before you dissolved into loud, pained sobs. The couple looked alarmed at the strength of your cries, but not really surprised at the appearance of them. Their immediate instinct was to let you cry it out, but it quickly became clear that you were only growing more and more upset, your cries becoming louder, and your breaths falling shorter and faster.

They tried to calm you down, but nothing seemed to work. Ingrid wrapped her arms around you, holding you tightly against her, while Mapi gently stroked her thumb up and down where her hands sat on your knees. They took turns talking to you, trying to guide your breaths, and get you to relax, but none of it seemed to help. You brought your hands to your chest, really hyperventilating now, trying in vain to slow your breathing down. You didn't know what was wrong with you; you were filled with anxiety and anguish and you couldn't, for the life of you, pull yourself together and stop crying.

"Cariño, what can we do," Mapi asked rather desperately.

You wracked your brain for something that would make you feel better, and your mind could only come up with one thing.

"Claudia. Please," you managed to gasp out, and Mapi was whipping her phone out, speaking rapidly to Claudia on the other end. You were only getting more and more panicked, resting your head against the Norwegians chest, trying to focus on her heartbeat. You closed your eyes tightly, only opening them when you felt yourself being pulled out of Ingrid's arms and into another set.

Opening your eyes, you saw Claudia looking down at you, anxiety written clearly across her face. More time must have passed than you thought, and if you hadn't still been so panicked, you would have wondered if you'd passed out. You collapsed against her in relief, and she pulled you to lay against her chest, propping herself up against the arm of the couch. You rested between her legs, ear pressed over her chest, as she wrapped her arms around you, bring one up to tug your ponytail out and lightly run her fingers through your hair.

It took a while, but the sound of her heartbeat, the comforting motions of her hands, and the smell of her laundry detergent and perfume, invading your senses from where your nose pressed against her sweatshirt, all managed to calm you down. Your tears came to a slow stop, save for the occasional sniffle, and your breathing returned to normal. You realized Claudia was talking quietly to you then, and you tried to focus on her words.

"-got you. I'm right here, you're gonna be okay. I love you. So much. You're gonna be just fine." Her voice was soothing, and you felt the last of the tension leave your body. You were content to just lay there, surrounded by Claudia, but after a couple more minutes, she nudged you and sat up, keeping both of her hands on you, not willing to let you go.

"How are you feeling, amor? That was pretty intense." She spoke quietly, and you appreciated it.

Clearing your throat, you responded, allowing yourself to be honest for the first time in a while. There was no reason to pretend to be fine anymore- it was abundantly clear that you weren't.

"Tired. Better, I think though? Especially now that you're here." Your response was shaky, and she leaned in closer to you, pressing her side up against yours. It was only then that you noticed that Ingrid and Mapi were gone. You made a mental note to thank them, profusely, later.

"Good. I'm glad you feel better," she paused. "I'm sorry I yelled earlier. It's just really hard for me to see you like this, completely shut off from everything."

"I know, I'm sorry I yelled in the first place. I haven't been handling this very well," she scoffed at that, and you managed a smile. "I know that how I've been handling it isn't healthy, and I'm gonna try to do better." You made eye contact with her as you spoke, and you could tell she was hopeful that you were being genuine.

"I love you. You aren't ever a bother, or a burden. Taking care of you is something I am happy to do, always." She sounded so earnest, so eager for you to believe her, that you didn't really have any other choice. "I know it's really hard for you to accept help, but I'm not going anywhere, so you're gonna have to get used to it." You smiled then, a real smile, pulled her into a hug.

"Thank you, I love you. Te quiero mucho." She pressed several kisses to the side of your head in response before pulling back.

"Nap?" She asked, taking in the way your eyelids drooped, and the way you sagged against her.

"Si, por favor," you responded, and without another word, she pulled you back into her arms, nestled against her chest. She tugged the blanket folded over the back of the couch down on top of the both of you, and you snuggled into her, letting out a sigh of contentment. You were already falling asleep, and Claudia was finally relaxed, truly believing that you were going to be better about letting her in.

#woso imagine #woso #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #claudia pina #claudia pina x reader

465 notes · View notes

ravens-two · 9 months

Text

PICK A CARD reading

How do other people see you?

Pile 1 -> Pile 2

Pile 3 -> Pile 4

Decks used: Dark Wood Tarot & Green Witch Oracle

TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC

Pile 1

Strength & Banana

Main Star sign energy: Leo & Cancer

Hi, Pile 1, Banana is the card of duality and so I think that it may be that people see you in very different ways, like you're not very consensual to the general public. The people you meet can't really decipher you, some perceive you to be incredibly nice, while others find you off-putting. However, with this card and Strength I also feel like people turn to you a lot for advice. People find you to be very wise, and most of all, impartial. They trust that you will see things from every perspective and offer the best advice you can. This also means that some people see you as a devil's advocate, because you insist on giving voice to different points of view.

In general, I think that people perceive you as being very outspoken, you don't shy away from conflict, but you don't go looking for it either. It's just that it naturally finds a way to you and you can't help but stand up for yourself and others. I also feel like other people find you to be a very calming presence, I think that it's mix of it just being your vibe, but also that they know that they can count on you to help solve any problem that might come up.

A bit random, but I think that you are known to make dirty jokes and also your sense of humor is very underrated, kind of deadpan and sometimes others can't tell if you're being serious or not.

Other people see you as being very confident in yourself, even if you don't feel like that. There's a sort of confidence that shines through you. Also, you are known as being very loyal to your friends.

Pile 2

6 of Cups & Lemon

Main Star sign energy: Gemini, Scorpio & Cancer

Pile 2 the first thing I'm getting with your group is that you have big Cancer energy. Being with you feels like coming home. I think that the people closest to you feel almost "mothered" by you, I mean this in the best way possible, they know that they can count on you to make them a nice cup of tea, pull out a blanket and hear out their problems. You have a very safe presence.

Some not so nice energy that is also coming through is that some people think that you're stuck in the past. This sentence is coming through very clearly like this to me, but I think that it will apply differently to each of you. It might be a bit literal, like you refuse to embrace new technologies for example or it could be more like you are frequently reminiscing about the good old days. I think that sometimes you are seen as being a bit sad, like filled with ennui if that makes sense. Despite that, I think that you are someone who remembers. You always know your friends birthdays and you remember the little details about their lives, and they appreciate this so so much.

With the lemon card I think that you are very talkative, but only when you feel comfortable. And the interesting thing is, when you get to the stage where you're really really comfortable you start to hold back less and less and you end up being a bit mean with your words. You're not trying to be mean, but they might sting a bit because you're brutally honest. Also, with lemon being the card of cleansing I think that your friends perceive you as being very good at cleaning. I mean this both in a literal sense (lol) and metaphorically. You're good at closing old chapters and cleaning out the old to bring in the new (with a twist too, because you always make space for the memories). You give me this vibe of it doesn't matter if it was good or bad, it matters that it happened.

Pile 3

Empress & Orange

Main Star sign energy: Virgo & Taurus

Pile 3 people see you as being full of life and energy. You are the life to her party, even if there isn't a party, you know how to cheer and pump up the people around you. I also think that people find you very charming and they love to hear you talk. In fact, I think that others love being around you and being around your energy, because it's just so big. Do you know that poem about the orange? In this metaphor you are the orange.

There's also this really interesting vibe that you are very sensual, it could be like sensual as in sexy, but like sensual as in using your senses. You love eating, you love listening to music, you love pretty things. I think that your friends and acquaintances even always ask you about restaurant recommendations and stuff like that. Also, other people love your style and your aesthetic. In fact, they really admire how cohesive you look.

Others also see you as someone who is incredibly creative and that is always filled with ideas. Honestly I think that most of you are either studying arts/design/etc or you work in those areas. You are known for your work. There's also this thing that if one of your friends has a problem they will come to you if they need an out of pocket solution. Like, you always have one. Your friends love your sense of humor, it's always so random and unpredictable. And I honestly think that you might be very popular on social media.

Pile 4

7 of Swords & Pea

Main Star signs energy: Pisces & Aquarius

Hey pile 4, you are the embodiment of chaotic energy. I don't think that anyone can pin you down, and when someone thinks that they have you figured out you immediately prove them wrong. This is big Aquarius energy honestly, not with the chaos, but with the fact that you see things in such a different manner that no one can predict what you are going to do or say next. I also think that you're the type of person to lie for fun (nothing serious of course, but just making up a whole different life to some stranger you'll never see again).

You are filled with ideas and people find you to be a good communicator. In particular I think that you're good with speaking and writing. There's also this vibe that your friends never know when to expect an answer to their texts, it could be immediately or three weeks later.

Your mind is very very busy, always buzzing with new ideas and scenarios and I think that sort of comes across to other people who think you are a bit scatterbrained. Also, people think that you are very smart. I am also getting this vibe that you have a sharp tongue, especially when it comes to social commentary. Sometimes you'll make a sarcastic comment about something around you, but not everyone will get it and those people find you a bit weird. You may get lost while telling a story, going on multiple tangents to explain your train of thought. And I also think that you get distracted easily. Some people find that a bit annoying, but your friends find it endearing.

There's this type of trickster energy here with the 7 of Swords so it might be that you are known for pulling pranks on your friends. Your presence is very fun, but sometimes a bit unsettling because again, no one knows what you're going to do next.

#pac reading #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a picture #tarot reading #tarot

560 notes · View notes

binniebakery · 2 months

Text

Your Biggest Fan!

Rockstar!Yeonjun x Fem!Reader, Strangers to ?? (fwb? teehee) Slightly Suggestive! ♡ Summary: Your best friend forces you to attend a local rock group’s concert. You weren’t expecting much until said group’s lead guitarist catches your eye with a wink and a smile, now he’s all you can think about. Little do you know you’ve caught his attention too. ♡ Warnings: smoking, some drinking, n cursing, the sexual tension go crazy, yeonjun is kinda mean, almost burns reader with a cig, this is not proofread! ♡ A/N: finally! After so long i post this lmaoo tbh i had the biggest writer’s block for this fic (I cringed while every second writing this so I very much hate it but o well!) but as promised this was going to be my next one!! moawajunnies please enjoy!!

“Ah, shit– I spilled my drink!” Your friend groaned and you looked from your phone to see part of her outfit drenched in beer. It’s a good thing she was wearing all black. “You alright?” you ask, joining her in assessing the damage.

“Yeah, just clumsy..” She then excuses herself to search for something to wipe the beverage off, mumbling a ‘just as the concert was about to start’ as she squeezes through the crowd. There was probably a low chance she’d make it back to your spot in the very front.

You turn back to the screen, watching the timer tick down. Three minutes left and the crowd was starting to get more impatient by the second, internally cringing at the way you were getting shoved up against the barricade.

God, this was not your type of event at all, not with the amount of smelly drunk attendees. You were only here because you were dragged.

Time went by surprisingly quick as your subway surfer’s gameplay was cut quickly to an end. Music began to roar across the small outside garage and you felt the bass pump through your veins.

A group of five males walk up on stage, the tallest member, their leader, smiling and waving as he approaches his spot, dimples on display as he held his large keyboard guitar.

The drummer, your best friend's favorite, had blonde hair curled perfectly against his handsome features. Tapping his drumsticks with a grin as the crowd roared his name. “Kai! Kai! Kai!”

The group’s bassist and lead guitarist walk in, jumping and showing off their skills with nimble fingers, causing the crowd to get louder and louder. The lead guitarist’s brown wolf cut bouncing as he smirked and waved, black-haired bassist motioning his hands for the crowd to scream louder.

The perfect combination of charisma and attitude for a rock band.

Lastly, the lead vocalist runs on stage, microphone headset attached to his head as he stops front in center. His eyeliner smeared in just the right way, his soft orange hair a bright contrast to his torn and tattered outfit. Immediately you could tell he was the main attraction as fans roared.

Though you can’t say you could disagree, this man had an aura, and it was becoming more intense the longer you stared at him.

Said male lifts his chin to the crowd, a confident smile as fans swooned. “How are we doin’ tonight!?” The place shook and you felt the air grow thicker with every second. You felt the need to join in, feeling the energy shoot through your veins. At this point thoughts of where your best friend was had completely left your mind.

“Let’s fucking go then! This one’s called ‘Growing Pain’!” He kicks and the notes begin to blare through the speakers.

To say these guys weren’t talented would be the biggest understatement in history. The presence they served was beyond comprehensible and although you had never listened to their music prior, you felt immediately entranced by their stage presence.

Their lead singer especially. He had the attitude of a true rockstar, grabbing his water bottle and splashing the water on himself and the crowd after taking his sip. You were completely lost in the character portrayed in front of you, and you had the perfect view too.

As the concert went on, you came to learn the lead singer’s name was Yeonjun, and this Yeonjun was definitely eye candy.

‘Dreamer’ was one of their slower songs, but the crowd seemed to adore it. The sensual combination of the boy’s voices mixing together and harmonizing to create a sexy and attractive atmosphere and you felt practically high on the sound.

You still couldn’t take your eyes off Yeonjun. The way his body moved and the way he always seemed to linger in your part of the stage didn’t help either.

“Let me break it down for you..” Yeonjun’s gaze lands onto yours and you hold eye contact. You feel your body buzz at the interaction. The singer bites his lip as the leader of the group sings his verse, Yeonjun’s eyes never shifting from your position.

Damn, he was good at his job.

The rest of the concert proceeds like that, you and Yeonjun exchanging stares and at one point he winks at you, mouthing a ‘call me’ as his hand waves. You immediately flush at the boldness. He knew how to really interact with his audience.

The concert ends and you finally meet up with your friend, flusteredly attempting to explain the interactions you received and she groans. “Fuck– lucky! I’m so mad I wasn’t able to get back to the front, but at least we both enjoyed the concert..” She smiles weakly and you pat her back. Suddenly you feel a large hand tap your shoulder.

Why the hell was the band’s lead singer standing behind you?

“Hey.” Yeonjun smiles and he tilts his shades upwards, as if you wouldn’t have recognized him. Were the shades supposed to be some sort of disguise? He was literally still wearing the same outfit as earlier, sweat droplets still falling down the sides of his face and you can’t believe the fact that nobody has noticed him yet.

“Oh! Uh– well I gotta go– see you later y/n!” Your friend coughs and runs off to her car. You watch her leave with a confused look. I mean, you two did come to the concert in your designated cars, but what the hell was that about?

You turn back to Yeonjun embarrassed. “Ah, sorry… how can I help?”

Really? The hottest member of the band is talking to you and you're asking him how you can help like he’s a customer at a grocery store?

Yeonjun chuckles and stares you down, tongue in cheek, and you shiver from the attention.

“I wanted to get a better look at you, pretty face was starin’ at me the whole concert.”

You laugh nervously and place your hands on your hips. You decided that you’d entertain him. “Well, how could I not? Your performance really caught my attention.” You prayed to whatever God was out there that Yeonjun couldn’t sense the way your entire body tensed from his gaze.

“Mine or my band’s?” He smirks and you feel a lump in your throat. You wanted to just pass out then and there.

“Y- yours of course..” You mumble, toying with the hem of your outfit. Since when did a man make you so nervous?

“Is that so..?” He steps closer to you and offers his hand. “You wanna grab a drink or a cig?” He tilts his head and you stare at him with wide eyes. You felt like a deer caught in headlights.

“Uh.. sure…? What about your bandmates though?” You were really trying to remain unfazed by his forwardness.

“They'll be doing their own thing, let's go yeah?” Yeonjun gently grabs your wrist and is pulling you along with him, fully oblivious to the stares you were receiving from the concert’s remaining attendees.

Yeonjun takes you backstage, and you could hear your heartbeat thumping throughout your ears as he opened the door to his changing room.

The room was dimly lit, with a crappy light flickering every few minutes. Yeonjun’s clothes were tossed around, makeup vanity in disarray, and gifts and flowers from fans were neatly placed in the corner on a table. You hold your breath as Yeonjun closes the door behind him, lock clicking

You had no idea what was going on or how you even got in this situation, you had simply just attended this concert for the sake of your friend not wanting to come alone. Now here you were, backstage in the lead singer’s dressing room and you had no idea what he wanted with you.. but the burning feeling inside your stomach begged you to stay and your curiosity grew.

“Make yourself comfy, or just stand there, I won’t rush you.” Yeonjun laughs as he pulls a cigarette out from his pocket. He lights it and holds it out to you.

He places the end towards your mouth and you inhale, Yeonjun licks his lips as he watches the way your mouth wraps around it. “Darling.. you really know how to tease a guy huh?”

You stare at each other as you exhale the smoke and the burning in your throat is nothing compared to the burning heat throughout your body. This man had an effect on you in the same way you were affecting him.

You take this opportunity to stare up at Yeonjuns face, his features even more handsome now that you were this close. You take in the way his damp hair sat perfectly on his face, the smell of sweat and his cologne radiating off of him. The choker he wore called your attention to his neck and the way his sweat had dried mostly but you could still make out where the droplets had sat. You swallow and your eyes find their way back to Yeonjun’s.

Yeonjun notices your tension and smirks. “Like what you see pretty girl?” God why was he so fucking attractive.

“Maybe I do.. Is there an issue with that?” You stare at Yeonjun and the look on your face is enough for him to know what you wanted. You really wanted to regain control of the situation, so you decided to tease him further. “Yeonjun, right?.. You sure you wanna be alone with me in this room right now?”

Yeonjun scoffs at your reply. “Why? You trynna be one of my girls tonight?” Yeonjun quirked an eyebrow at you with a smug look, casually leaning against the doorframe. Your breath hitched.

You bite your lip at the suggestion, what was this man playing at? “And what if I do?”

Oh, you were playing with fire.

“You sure you want this? You know how many girls would kill for your position right now?” Yeonjun queries as he carries himself over to you. It finally dawns on you that you both really were alone in his dressing room and that his body was too close to yours, completely leaving you trapped between him and the wall behind you.

You could feel the way Yeonjun’s body heat begged to intertwine with yours, you felt your muscles weaken under him as he placed an arm on each side of your face on the wall. The room felt smaller and the scent of the cigarette in his mouth lingers around you as his breath alone practically envelops your senses.

Honestly, at this point, it didn’t matter how many girls he’s been with, hell you could care less if he even contacted you after this. You wanted him.

“I know well what I’m getting into.” You confidently stare up into Yeonjun’s intense gaze, feeling the way his eyes are scanning every curve of your body.

“Alright tough girl, can you handle this though?” Yeonjun grabs your wrist and pulls the cigarette from his mouth with the other hand, placing it near your skin just enough so you feel the slight burn.

“Ah– ah! Yeonjun–!” You choke and he cackles at the way you weakly attempt to pull away. You stare up at him, eyes slightly watery but the way your legs feel like jelly from the way he's treating you makes you slightly crave more.

“Relax darlin’, I wouldn’t hurt a single hair on you.” Yeonjun drops the cigarette to the floor and crushes it with his boot, still holding your wrist tightly.

He pulls your wrist over your head and he finally pushes his body up to yours. You inhale into his shoulder and Yeonjun’s beaming from the way you just lean into him. He relished in the way you let him do what he wanted to you.

“Stay for me, will you? Kinda like the way you looked up at me from the crowd with that pretty face.” The biggest grin spreads across Yeonjun’s handsome face and of course, who were you to say no? You were more than willing to let this man break you.

After all, you were now his biggest fan.

#txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt smut #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun smut #yeonjun x y/n #txt x y/n #BakeryTreat♡

225 notes · View notes

cruciatusforeplay · 8 months

Text

Map Of Whickber Street (Good Omens Soho around the bookshop)

I had a lot of fun watching the entire series again and working out where all the shops were in relation to one another. Some of these are mentioned in canon, some are just shown. I've taken some liberties with scale and the like. It wasn't clear which of these streets is Whickber Street, but I suppose there must be some mystery left in the world.

I'm adding some photo references and some more information about the various shops below the cut. If you can make out any more names, I'd love to know.

It's possible the deli is also part of Francesco's as they're both Italian, but there is a front door by the awning that could lead to the restaurant (not an unusual set up for Soho). Francesco's awning is the victim of Crowley's rainstorm.

Between Francesco's and Give Me Coffee is a shop selling formal menswear that I couldn't make out the name of.

Next to that is the coffee shop, Arnold's (the musical instruments shop), Marguerite's (the French restaurant), and newsagency (the news agents). We get a lovely shot of them from the upstairs of the bookshop (newsagents just barely visible).

Opposite them, we obviously have the bookshop itself and down from that, the record shop (which is called The Small Back Room, presumably in reference to having started at the back of Aziraphale's bookshop). The record shop is the orange shop you can see below. (There's also a clearer view of the newsagents).

The shop one down from the record shop is currently a question mark, but it does have a very bold colour scheme, and at one point we are a candelabra and a piece of fabric in the window display. I can't make out the name of this one either.

Opposite the bookshop we have the pub, the Dirty Donkey, whose front door is also the lift to heaven when summoned. Next to the pub is the doorway that leads you to the brothel (I picked the colour on the map from the new model friendly hands sign on the door), and next to that is Will Goldstone's Magic Shop. The magic shop, bookshop and the pub can also be seen in 1941 London flashbacks. Opposite the magic shop and next to the bookshop is another unknown shop. My gut says it sells lighting or maybe more general electrics, but I couldn't get a good enough shot to really see it.

At the end of this street we can see the Lucky Snake which I believe is a Chinese Restaurant, and just to the left we can glimpse a yellow shop, that I suspect is the herbalist that we see mentioned on Aziraphale's list of local businesses. Soho and Chinatown are geographical neighbours, and it's not uncommon to see Chinese herbalist or health shops in Soho. The red lanterns from the Lucky Snake continue down over the yellow shop, which is what gave me the impression it might be the herbalist.

Directly across the crossroads from the bookshop we have a fruit and vegetable market, that has a flower stand on the corner. That's where the tomatoes roll from when Gabe is walking through naked. (The veggies are obscured in the shot below, but we do see them in general)

If we follow the road between the flower market and the newsagents, I've extrapolated that the stage entrance to The Windmill (the theatre that we see in 1941) is there. We get a moderately clear view of it during the flashback, and the Windmill is a real place (to my knowledge it's somewhere between a burlesque club and a strip club these days), so I figured it would still be standing here too. We get the briefest of glimpses of the stage door still standing in modern London.

If you care for real world geography, then The Windmill's main entrance is on Great Windmill Street, right off Shaftesbury Avenue, on the corner of Archer Street.

I could not for the life of me find Brown's World of Carpets anywhere. Maybe he's not even actually a local business. He seems the type to fake it.

Here's a view of the area from heaven.

#good omens #good omens spoilers #good omens writing reference #writing reference #neil gaiman #fictional map #the goodest of omens

440 notes · View notes

aroacewxs · 6 months

Text

rui facts that are common knowledge atp but i just feel like repeating

hates vegetables because of their texture, and dislikes anything that has similar texture to certain vegetables. example: he hates watermelon because apparently to him the texture is just like a cucumber's? he's not very fond of many fruits either, albeit he dislikes them less than vegetables

only eats at places he's a regular at and becomes distressed when the menu changes. he picks off all vegetables from his food and sometimes emu helps him and eats anything he doesn't like

preferred rivers and lakes over pools as a kid. he would search for shiny rocks and the like in these rivers and lakes and show nene his discoveries

he owned many encyclopedias as a kid. one of them being one about poisonous plants. it had a bright red cover that scared nene LMAO but he read it over and over so now he can recognize which plants are poisonous or not

favourite animal is the platypus because he finds the fact that they are egg-laying mammals interesting

owns three monitors. has a tablet (owned this tablet since he was a kid) and a phone

horrible at packing! he's always thinking about worst case scenarios and possible hypotheticals that could occur during his travels, causing him to overpack and not use half of the things he brings. he mentions that this was the case when he went to america with wxs, and he struggled with the same problem when he was trying to pack for his kyoto trip in pandemonium

his favourite show he performed with wxs was the little mermaid. the show that made him feel the most nervous was a pianist named torpe, and the show that left the strongest impression on him was the one tsukasa performed with the others to convince him to join wxs again

dislikes cleaning because he finds it pointless when his room just becomes cluttered again sooner or later

worst sleep schedule known to man. has been scolded by wxs for coming to rehearsal with horrible eye bags

he people watches a lot. very observant of his environment and uses anything that catches his attention as inspiration for shows and other stories. this can be seen in island panic, where he makes up an entire possible conversation between three monkeys he was observing and in the area convo where he views students fighting to buy bread at the tuck shop as a metaphor for human nature and survival

his role model and inspiration is a director named tom gray! he watched interviews of him and read his books over and over

enjoyer of sci-fi

eats his taiyaki by first splitting it in half to avoid burning his mouth with the hot bean paste. interestingly enough, it is said in japan that the first bite you take in taiyaki determines your personality. rui breaks his taiyaki first before eating, making him a "person of action."

he deepened his interest for shows as a kid by imagining how he would adapt his favourite books into stage productions

there's a specific stool in his room that has remained since his childhood. also an orange box of toys(?) It seems

on the other hand, several aspects of his childhood room have changed: his lampshades are in the shapes of flowers now, his couch is patched up in blue, and he has multiple streamers and balloons. the balloons have little faces on them btw. he also installed a clock. the step ladder near his bookshelf is gone too from what i can see

ok that's all i can think of from the top of my head, hopefully none of these are incorrect,, i'll be very sad if something is wrong. if you know any fun rui facts that aren't listed above PLEASE enlighten me

#project sekai #rui #rui kamishiro #wxs rui #kamishiro rui #character facts

336 notes · View notes

funnyjb · 9 days

Text

Let’s talk

———————————————————————

April 11, 2024

“Please welcome to the stage Joe Burrow!”- Jason

Joe walks up and gives the boys a hug and a shake.

Today was the day that Joe was going to be doing New Hight’s podcast live with Travis Kelce, Jason, and Orlando brown Jr. You were so excited! You decided to come and watch to support Joe. You were wearing a orange skims bodysuit with blue ripped up jeans and Air Forces. You got sat next to THE KYLIE KELCE! You love her and what she does to support women’s sports.

“Hey, I’m Kylie! It’s very nice to meet you!”- Kylie

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you too!”- you

You both hug and sit down

“So, you are Joe’s girlfriend?”- Kylie

“Yes! been dating for 7 years, but just recently got engaged. Trying to keep it low key.”- you chuckled

“Wow, Congrats!I’m surprised I’ve still been with mine! He’s a lot of work, but I love him.”- Kylie

“Awww, you guys are a very sweet couple! And your daughters are the cutest!”- you

“Aww! Thank you!”- Kylie

You and Kylie talked a little about being a WAG and how they managed football and family time. The boys were facing you. You had a clear view of Joe and loved seeing him interact in this kind of environment.

The boys talked football for the most part but then they went into family life.

“So, your parents have really been your number 1 supporter since day one?”- Travis

“Yeah, they helped me through a lot and have always been there for me… but my fiancé has also been there for me through a lot and wouldn’t be here without her too.”- Joe

“Wait what! Bring it back, you are getting married?!”- Travis

Joe chuckled

“Yeah..uh just got engaged last year. We decided to keep it private until I guess now.”- joe

The whole stadium went crazy

I was shocked. I of course didn’t mind he told them because I been wanting to announce it for a while but was waiting on what Joe thought but here we are. He looked at me and winked.

“Congrats man! Is she here tonight?”- Jason

“Yeah..she’s right there.”- joe points at you

The camera points to you and soon enough you are on the Jumbotron. You smiled and waved. You were so nervous.

“Ahhh there she is folks!”- jason

The camera points back to the boys

“Shes beautiful,congrats.”- Travis

“Thank you! She uh.. has helped through a lot. Y/n has been with me my whole journey from college to bengals so she’s been apart for a long time and I wouldn’t be the person I am today without her so I’m very grateful.”- joe

“Wow! Well Joe you are one very lucky guy.”- Travis

“Trust me I know.”- joe chuckled

——————————————————-

After

“Hey.”- joe

He wrapped his arms around you from the back

“Hi!”- you

“So,what did you think?”- joe

“Well, I thought you did awesome. I’m so proud of you! And was very surprised about the shout out.”-you

“Well, I just feel like it’s been hard these past couple of months and I felt like you deserved it. You’re my girl and I don’t show you enough how much I love and care for you and I’m willing to do more now.”-joe

“Joe, thank you, but you are the best partner a girl can ask for. I know you are private about our relationship and I respect that. You amaze me every day with your smarts and talent. I love you Mr. QB.”- you

“I love you too, y/n.”- joe

He placed a kiss on your cheek.

————————————————————-

Insta

Y/n stories

#joe burrow

74 notes · View notes

keishawantskisses · 17 days

Text

KPOP DR INTRODUCTION

GO! BEYOND! We are MKB!

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

MKB [initally called MaKe Believe] is a 5 member KPOP girl group that debuted around 2014-2015 under the company of JYP with their winning album : 5ALIVE! and their most popular songs Superstitious, Greedy hearts and What's more?. Adored for their GIRL-CRUSH aesthetic and catchy choruses that is presented in a film cinematographic manner that tells a story through the visuals as well as the lyrics in the genres POP-ROCK, EDM and HIPHOP, fans around the world can't help but feel entranced by the music and the lore that is made along the way.

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

She can sing? She can dance?? She can rap???

SHE'S A TRIPLE THREAT

— BASICS

Date of dr : 2015 02 04

Stage name : rochie

Birth name : "CR name" keisha rochela banks

Spanish name : audriana rochela banks

Nicknames : rochie, roe, keesh, audrey

Fanbase nicknames : lol doll, jazz hands, dimples, glasses, curly fries

Date of birth : June 20th 1997

Zodiac sign : gemini-cancer cusp

Height : 5"7½

Ethnicity : half puerto rican, half korean

Languages : spanish, korean, english, japanese, portuguese

Group positions : main rapper, lead/main dancer, main singer, visuals, maknae

Representative animal : red panda / bunny

Representative colour : orange

Representative fruit : also an orange

Fanbase name : charmings !

Training period : 10 months

Company : JYP

— KNOWN FOR

Keisha is a witty and ambitious idol who's personality shines brightly through her snappy and energetic choreography, while also showing a raw and passionate side of her through her singing and rapping. She is praised for a her precision, accuracy and emotion by her manager and JYP himself as well as from other Idols.

She is known for occasionally appearing in other k-groups lives either heard in the background or directly in view, rambling about something and coming to say hi to their fanbase. Charmings are shocked to see how close she is to TWICE and BTS in particular, making them wonder how long she has known both groups before she officially became an Idol, and what their relationships are like off camera

She's known for having a pet bunny called Tiffany, Tiff for short. Tiffany often makes appearances in her own lives. Tiffany is very cute and is loved by the fanbase

She is an artist. She tends to draw a lot and can see having piles of stuffed notebooks of drawings in her room. She's too shy to show her art but there was a screenshot of her accidentally leaving one of her notebooks open showing a double page section filled with well drawn sketches of recognised idols. Some from BTS some from TWICE.

She is a spanish black person. This makes her stand out from all other idols. But when she made her first appearance onto a game show, Black fans and Spanish fans of kpop had basically gone crazy seeing a black Idol speak their language for the first time and the number of Charmings doubled, if not tripled.

She is known for being so fucking painfully honest about everything it's funny. She's basically voluntarily called herself out on multiple occasions. Like when she admitted that she likes both man boobs and woman boobs (she's bi) or when she brain vomits her thoughts onto her tumblr page (yes she is in fact a tumblr girly), thinking no one would've seen her viral post that read "namjoon thinks I'm a bad influence on army cus of how vocal i am as if they didnt already want be crushed by his beefy arms before I admitted I did. They just get me (i joke btw.. kinda)" that she had deleted the second she posted it, but of course it got screenshoted and reposted onto twitter☠️

— FUN FACTS

She is older than Jungkook by 4 months

She is close friends with NAYEON, Sana, Chaeyoung, YOONGI, JIMIN, JUNGKOOK, Namjoon, J-hope, TAEHYUNG, Jin, BANGCHAN, Felix, Hyunjin and YUNA

No one knows this yet but she has a crush on 4 of the idols listed and 2 of the highlighted names are part of the four, the other 2 are not

Red Panda is her animal representative because there was a video circulating of her dressed up as a mascot for her highschool as a red panda

She is an excellent cook and loves to cook for her members and her idol friends

She is the 2nd most shipped with trainee in MKB before she even became an Idol. She is now the first most shipped idol in MKB.

She is a genuine ARMY herself lmao😭😭 way too many times has she been caught singing a bts song when on camera

Tags! : @livingmydreamlife5555 @cocozydiaries @theshifterbear @4ellieluv

Side note💌 : she's so silly guys. I hope no one suspects me having a crush on any of the idols in my dr.. — 🍊💭

71 notes · View notes

firelilyfox · 1 month

Text

Stardust Dreams

part three (final part)

Wonka: Willy Wonka x female reader

Warnings: very fluffy fluff

Words: 1k

__________________________

The sound of the harbour bell announces the time and Willy was getting more nervous with every second. He was waiting outside of the library for the past fifteen minutes just to make sure he wouldn’t be to late. It was freezing cold outside and the falling snow laid down on his shoulders like powdered sugar. His fingers were tightly wrapped around some flowers, he bought earlier at the nearby flower shop. Willy picked different colors because he couldn’t decide wich one she would like the most. So he choosed the colors that he reminded him of her. Warm orange, like her smile. Happy yellow, like her charisma. Lovely pink, like her blushed cheeks.

The big wooden door opens and y/n stepped out of it with a big smile on her beautiful face. Willys heart stumbled. She was like a magical figure that only existed in fairytales. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, because Willy was too afraid that she might vanish and he would find himself waking up in his bed again, to realize this was only a dream.

„Good evening, Willy“, she greeted him.

Willy smiled. „Hello y/n. These are for you.“ He handed her the flowers and when his hand touched hers for a split second, he could feel his skin tingling.

„Oh! They are beautiful Willy“, she said admiring and giving him a kiss on his cheek as a thank you. He had to lean down a bit, so she could reach it. „You must be freezing. Let’s hurry home. I prepared something to eat and after that … no. This will be a surprise.“ Y/n was thinking out loud.

She took him back to her tiny apartment right above a bookshop near the gallery gourmet. The view was breathtaking, but Willy wasn’t interested at all in looking at the city lights. He only had eyes for y/n while she was preparing the dinner table.

„I really want to help you. It feels wrong to just watch you do all the work“, he said.

Y/n looked at him sternly. „Willy Wonka I invited you to thank you for everything you did today for my little sister and for what you did for Noodle in the past. And I enjoy doing it, so don’t worry about me.“

She cooked him a wonderful meal and they shared it by candlelight. It felt nice and easy to talk about all kinds of stuff. Laughter filled the room and Willy wished he could capture this moment to make it last forever.

„Noodle is like a sister to me. Her mother took me and Ellie in, so they both are like family to us“, she told him.

Willy frowned. „You mean you were adopted by her? What about your parents?“

A sad expression flickered over her face. „They are always somewhere out there. Mom and Dad are not made to stay in one place for a long time, so they asked Ms. Smith to watch out for us in the meantime. And she did ever since.“

Willy knew the feeling of being alone way to well, so he understand the little tone of bitterness in her voice when she speaks about her parents.

„But enough about sad things for now“, she cleared her throat and got up from the table. „The evening is not over and I still have a little surprise for you, Willy.“

He smiled confused. „I thought the meal was the surprise?“

„Not at all!“ Y/n laughed. She held out her hand, waiting for Willy to take it in his. „Are you ready for some fun, Mr. Wonka?“

***

The music made Willy smile.

Y/n lead them to a little tavern that was full of people chattering in the corners, drinking wine and having a good time. On a small stage was a band of five members and their were playing some joyful songs. In the middle of the room was the dance floor and some couples already danced with bright smiles on their faces.

Y/n giggled because of the amazed look on Willys face. „You never visited a place like this am I right?“

„Well I saw many places around the world … but I never took the time to go into a pub or something. There were not much to find for my chocolate studies.“

She nodded understanding. „Well I love your chocolate Willy, but tonight we have other priorities.“

The lead singer just started another song and Willy had to speak a little louder for y/n to understand him. „And what are the priorities for tonight?“

„Having fun!“

Y/n pulled Willy to the middle of the room and started dancing. Her moves looked a bit uncontrolled and without a plan. He couldn’t help but laugh and joined her on this weird little dance-off. They had so much fun just jumping around and laughing until their faces hurt. After a couple of joyful songs, the band changes the mood and a slow rhythm started playing.

„May I?“, Willy asked and reaching out for her hand.

She smiled. „You may.“

Willy knew how to dance and he knew intuitively where to put his hands to take over the lead. Y/n rested her head on his shoulder and he enjoyed the feeling of being so close to her. Although he hoped silently she wouldn’t notice his fast beating heart.

„I need to thank you for today, y/n. I can’t remember the last time I was so carefree.“ Willy said with a lowered voice, so she would be the only one hearing him.

She looked up to him. The warm lights where shimmering in her eyes and he almost lost himself in them. „I’m glad you had a good time.“

„Maybe…“, he started. „Maybe we should do something like this again … sometime.“

Y/n looked a little nervous and for a second Willy wanted to take a step back to not make her feel uncomfortable, but then she stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the lips. It was a soft kiss, light like a feather and before Willy even realized it was over.

„I would love to do something like this again“, she said as the music speed up again.

They danced for the rest of the night until their feet hurted, their hearts were full of laughter and the butterflies in their stomaches kept on flying.

Willy knew from this moment on, that the feeling of missing something would never come back. He found the piece that he was searching for. And he intended to keep her forever.

#fluff #willy wonka x reader #wonka movie #willy wonka in love #wonka fanfic #willy wonka #wonka 2023 #wonka x reader #willy wonka fanfic #wonka #wonka timothee #timothée chalamet #soft touch #soft aesthetic #dancing #first kiss #first date

95 notes · View notes

crevicedwelling · 2 months

Note

how do you tell the sex of your isopods (especially porcellio scaber which is what I have)? and also how to tell if they're pregnant.

I've been trying to figure out mine but every one I've tried to check (just like 5 or 6) all have very visible brood sacs so I'm thinking I'm doing something wrong

you will need to flip the isopod over; holding between two fingers should work for a larger species like P. scaber but you can also put the animals in a clear plastic zip bag and squeeze out the air, which will allow you a good view of the underside of the animal without handling it.

when examining the underside, look to the pleopods, the small plates beneath the tail end. males have long extensions to the endopods of these segments; they give the appearance of very acute angles.

females have no extensions there and the pleopods look less sharply angular.

a gravid female will have a distended marsupium pouch between her walking legs. it may range in color from orange (early stages) to yellow (developed eggs) to white (babies). males, and females that have expelled babies and have not yet molted, will have flat and often pale undersides.

additionally, P. scaber is slightly sexually dimorphic and larger individuals can be sexed visually with practice. males tend to be darker than females, are generally slimmer, and have larger, longer uropods (the paired “tails” at the end). coloration may indicate or confuse sex; calico-type red/yellow spotting is usually confined to the females while albino isopods have no coloration to work with. as above, a wide calico scaber with short uropods is probably female; a skinny mottled one with intermediate uropods should get a closer look. you may even find intersex or other unusual isopods which aren’t too rare.

#isopod #bugs

136 notes · View notes

goingbuggy · 9 months

Text

What is Buggy's Endgame? A Post-1082 Analysis

Since the release of chapter 1082, we’ve gotten more insight into Buggy’s character than ever before, especially regarding his dreams and thoughts on past events. So, given our new information, I thought I’d revisit Orange Town Arc to see if 1082 re-contextualizes anything. What’s in the cards for Buggy as a character? What direction does Oda plan on taking him in?

To give you my answer, let me begin in a bit of a random place: the relationship between Shanks and Buggy.

From the moment Oda first introduced their relationship in chapter 19, Shanks and Buggy already solidified themselves as character foils. Their first panel together is literally a fight over whether the North or South Pole is colder, which is pretty on the nose if you ask me (sorry… I had to). Their red-blue color contrast is also pretty self-explanatory; although green is technically red’s complement, red and blue are often used as visual “opposites.”

Beyond all that surface level stuff, though, what makes these two foils of each other are their opposing values. As a pirate, Shanks wants to “make time to see the world." He has no sense of urgency and no inherent desire to conquer the world — at least, not right away. Buggy, of course, calls this a “soft way of thinking.” Unlike Shanks, he views treasure as the sole purpose of being a pirate. And not just any treasure, but material wealth, gold and jewels which "make its possessor a king."

Shanks and Buggy’s contrasting viewpoints also embody the underlying themes of Orange Town Arc. One man's trash is another man's treasure, and Oda takes great care to emphasize this point, from Chouchou to the mayor.

Luffy's hat ends up taking center stage in Orange Town, however, which I think is a great decision. The straw hat is what tethers Luffy and Buggy to Shanks. It's a weighted symbol, one that helped shape both of their characters — albeit in antithetical ways. Thus, when it’s used as a tool to explore their relationships, it works really well.

Take Luffy, for example. In his youth, Shanks was a pillar of support, friendship, and sacrifice; the straw hat is his treasure because it reminds him of Shanks, but also because it symbolizes what Shanks gave up for him. He owes his life to Shanks, but he uses that gratitude to fuel his own ambition, and to hopefully reunite with Shanks one day as a great pirate.

Shanks allowed him to go after his dream. Luffy knows this well.

Now look at Buggy. He sees the straw hat as worthless, and it’s clear why he does: it’s a painful reminder of the dream that Buggy gave up on, a representation of everything he lacks in comparison to Shanks. And to add insult to injury, Shanks gave that straw hat away to what Buggy sees as an insignificant kid. Of course that would hurt. Seeing Shanks give up Roger’s legacy so easily, abandoning his potential to become Pirate King, when that’s all Buggy ever wanted in life… I mean, wow. It's an amazing role reversal. Buggy gave up on his dream for Shanks, but Shanks gave that dream to Luffy instead.

I think 1082’s context adds some much-needed character depth, and explains a lot of Buggy's rationale. We know Buggy does not value sacrifice or friendship like Luffy does, nor is he the type to go out on a limb for someone. He’s greedy, manipulative when it suits his interests… I could go on forever. So to see that Buggy once sacrificed his own dreams for the sake of Shanks’ — only to have it backfire — makes so much sense. Of course he became a bitter, cynical, and selfish adult. One of the people he believed in most broke his unwavering trust, and he never healed from that experience. (Not to mention that this happened directly after Roger's execution. His faith was already shaken, and it was just one heartbreak after the next.)

The impact of that betrayal only feeds into his greedier tendencies; Buggy is a character who keeps things close to his chest, figuratively and literally. He learned to fear trust, and it shows. All of his adult relationships (Alvida, Galdino, Crocodile, Mihawk) are strictly rooted in business and mutual, self-serving interests. Nothing more.

Just take a look at Buggy and Luffy's reactions to the Bara Bara no Mi story. Buggy can only focus on the things he lost, instead of what he had: a friend who was willing to jump overboard for him in a heartbeat. But Luffy, a character who values the people he loves, obviously has a different perspective. He concludes, “So Shanks saved your life?” Where Luffy sees hidden treasure, Buggy sees nothing but loss.

So why am I bringing this all up? Well, I don’t find it surprising at all that two of Buggy’s most prominent arcs — Orange Town and Impel Down — emphasize his struggle between selfishness and altruism. The internal conflict is played off as a joke in Impel Down, but Buggy has always been simultaneously comedic and complex. He actually parallels Luffy in that sense, but that's another meta for another day.

The position Oda has placed Buggy in is rife with potential. He's now closer than ever to the things which would fulfill his materialistic nature: the One Piece, Captain John’s treasure, and the title of Pirate King. Yet, at the very same time, he's closer to one of his most honest connections in life: Shanks. If there was ever a time for a character to be forced to make a fateful choice, I’d say it’s right about now. People have been wondering why Oda made Buggy a final contender for the One Piece. Why has he “failed upwards” for so long? Comedy aside, I think the answer is a lot simpler than we’re all making it out to be: Buggy’s story just isn’t over yet.

Oda still has something he wishes to impart to readers, and he clearly believes it will be told best through Buggy’s character. Based on what we know about Buggy — his greed, his guilty conscience, his past with Shanks — I think that story will lead his character to some very interesting places.

Do I think Buggy is going to have a change of heart? Maybe, maybe not. In that regard, he’s already been in a gray area since Impel Down. I wouldn’t be surprised if he accidentally ends up allying himself with Luffy again during One Piece’s conclusion. But with the Cross Guild putting bounties on marines, a (potential) three-emperor interest in going after Blackbeard, and an open-ended Shanks-Buggy plot thread about going to Laugh Tale... Well, there's a lot of places this could go. Would Buggy be willing to give up the greatest treasure in dire circumstances? For Shanks? For the world? Will he become king, and then lose it all? Will he make a sacrifice that parallels Shanks' when they were kids? Who knows!

What do you guys think? Is Buggy going to play a larger role in One Piece’s third act? What is your ideal conclusion for his character in the story? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

#can you tell buggy is my favorite character #this was definitely overkill #but in my defense oda started it when he dropped 1082 #that shit was cooking in his drafts for a LONGGGG TIME i just know it #one piece #long post #op meta #one piece meta #buggy #buggy the clown #monkey d. luffy #luffy #shanks #red haired shanks #buggy one piece #op buggy #character analysis #meta

188 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months

Text

I've been dreaming of the Spectator of Diamonds.

The stage is wrecked, the crowd is gone. But,,, the show, it must go on. He is both the actor and the audience.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

Cater settles into his seat. It’s cushy and comforting, the pillows almost cloud-like as he sinks down, becoming one with them.

The theater--empty, dark--is his domain, his castle. And he, the lone king atop of it all.

Click, click, click!

He looks up, finding that the stage lights have flared on. Glaring, hot. Four figures stand there in masks--yet he can see the echoes of himself in their verdant eyes, the orange hair cropping out from their false faces.

They are he, and he is they.

The set rolls in, setting the scene. They are wooden cutouts painted over and mounted in wheels or lowered on pulleys. Students in the wings operate them, hidden from the audience's view.

Here begins another story, a series of illusions to craft a beautiful lie.

"There's so much to do before the unbirthday party!" declares Cater the First, a crown upon his head. He waves an ornate staff over his followers, directing their activities. "Chop, chop! Let's hop to it, everyone! There's not a second to waste."

Cater the Second, in a hat and glasses, ferries a towering cake, as fake as the rest of the production. He knows the sponge is styrofoam and the frosting is plaster and paint. Still, he handles the dessert as though it is made of gold.

Cater the Third wrestles with a horde of plastic lawn flamingos and hedgehog plushies. Cater the Fourth, on a stepladder, stringing up a banner. The Third hurries past the Fourth, his foot catching on a foot of the ladder and nearly tripping him.

Righting himself, the Third hollers, "Hey, stay out of my way! Couldn't you have picked a better spot to do your work?"

To him, the Fourth coolly replies, "Not my fault you weren't watching where you were going."

"What was that?!"

"You heard me."

"Say that again to my face, I dare you!"

"I just did."

"Guys, guys! Relax," warns the Second, placing his cake down on a table. "The last thing we need is drama on an unbirthday."

"He's right," says the First. His brows draw together, not yet a full frown but coming close to it. "Drop it and get back to your tasks."

They scramble to each other, a flock reuniting and tending to their kin.

Cater has witnessed this scene many times over. The chaos, the mini-quarrels. From a safe distance, he watches, wearing the usual stitched smile.

Always a member of the audience, never the actor.

A longing ache fills his chest.

He wonders if now is a good time to clap, to interject. Make his presence known somehow.

Cater moves to speak, but doubt arrests him.

No—they don’t need me. They don’t want me there. They’re fine on their own. You’ll only make things worse.

The whispers start.

“Something’s off.”

“Something’s wrong.”

“Something’s missing.”

Cater surveys his surroundings.

The theater is empty, save for himself. It does not silence the voices coming from all corners, their murmur easily filling the room. It’s as though there is a full house, minus the bodies.

Just as hollow as he is.

“It’s fine!" he calls out to Nobody. "I’m sure the show will get better. They know what they're doing."

"It's incomplete," the whispers insist.

"We need you, Cater."

He gasps, his attention returning to the stage. The Caters are gone, their masks and propr lying abandoned upon it.

That sounds like...

"Trey."

Him, and the others. Their dorm leader and the duo of irksome first years are frozen mid-party prep. Trey strolls past them and to the edge of their pretend world,

He crouches down and grins. "What are you doing down there?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm spectating, silly."

"Spectating? That's an odd thing to do." Trey leans, offering his hand. "Come on. Heartslabyul isn't complete without you."

Cater stares. "But I… I like it here. It’s familiar.”

It’s safe.

Trey cocks his head. “But you also want to be up here, with the rest of us… don’t you?“

“You don’t get it. I—” Cater wavers. “I can’t, even if I want to. I just can’t, okay?”

Under the spotlights, they’ll see me for who I really am.

Trey watches him carefully. His golden eyes soften with understanding. "You're scared."

"Who said I was scared?" Cater attempts at a laugh. It doesn't come out quite right, petering out too quickly. "You're imagining things."

"I don't think so." He shakes his head. "This isn't you, Cater. You haven't been you for a long while now. I wish you'd be more genuine with us. With me."

"I am!"

Cater speaks louder than he means to. His exclamation hushes the others in the audience, silencing dissent.

For one long, horrible moment, he sees the sadness reaching Trey's face. The hope draining. Coldness overtakes Cater, and his mind goes to the worst places: his friend turning away, leaving.

His vision stings. He blinks, and the tears blur the world and the people in it, the stage and its actors.

His house of cards, collapsing.

It's over.

From the disparaging silence, a hushed voice rises.

"It's okay. You can be yourself," Trey says reassuringly. He's warm, like a blanket draped over his body. "Smile when you want to smile. Cry when you want to cry. Share it all with us. We'll embrace it."

A tear breaks free from Cater. The magic words, dispelling the dam holding his feelings back.

"Ah... Geez,” he mutters, wiping at his cheek. “Y-You're making me sentimental...!”

“I’d say that’s a pretty good start,” Trey chuckles. “… Hey, Cater. I think it’s about time. You’ll join us, right?”

“Hah. Of course…!”

That’s all I’ve ever wanted.

Cater rises and races to the stage. Slipping his hand in Trey's, he holds tight lets himself be hoisted up.

The ground is firm beneath his feet, the lights drying his tears. His heart drums with exhilaration—it feels so right. Like he belongs.

Up close, he should see the set falling apart. The wooden textures, the peeling paint. But it looks more real than ever, with foliage shifting in the wind and the aroma of roses perfuming the air. The stage, expanding.

Cater walks into the waiting wonderland.

"Found him!" Trey announces to the rest of the cast.

The scene resumes, the characters returning to motion.

"There you are, Cater!" Riddle cries out. "I certainly hope you weren't planning on offloading your responsibilities onto your underclassmen... again."

"Pfft!" Ace fails to contain a mocking laugh, his gaze sliding over to Deuce. "Yeah, cuz what kind of idiot would fall for something like that?"

"Sh-Shut up! You'd have wanted to help out your senpai too if you were there!!"

"No worries. I promise no more tricks this time. I'm... too tired for that."

"Cater?" Riddle takes a proper look at him, then narrows his eyes. "Have you been... crying?"

"Yeah. I think... I'll need a moment, Riddle-kun. Sorry, I'm going through a lot right now.”

It is his truth. The joy, and the levity it grants him, overwhelming.

He's finally among them.

Finally Somebody.

93 notes · View notes