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eddiemunsons-missingnipple · 5 months

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Time of the month

Eddie Munson x reader

Summary: You started your period, and Eddie tries to help.

Warnings: fluff, menstruation, mention of sex.

A/n: Not proofread. no minors allowed.

The front door slamming startles you in your spot, huddled in various blankets and pillows. Eddie scans the dark living room in search of you until his eyes land on your figure. There you were hidden beneath all sorts of fluffy blankets with the ever curtain closed.

He laughs to himself, "Hey sweetheart, I'm home."

You look over to him, faking a smile. "Hi."

Eddie frowns." What's wrong? "

"Got my period." You murmured.

He pouts out his bottom lip, moving closer, sitting next to you. "Anything I can do?"

You shake your head no, leaning over to lay your head on his chest. Immediately, Eddie wrapped his arms around you.

"I heard sex can be the cure." He half joked.

You groaned, hiding your face. "Eddie!"

He lets out a belly laugh and moves to stand bending down to give you a quick kiss. He kicked off his boots and placed them by the door.

"M'just playin." He smirked.

"No, you weren't." You pouted.

His smirks grew wider as he watched you."Yeah, you're right, doesn't hurt to try."

If you weren't in the state you are right now, he'd call you cute, but he knows better.

"You sure? I can really pound those cramps outta ya." He joked again, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

All you could was groan at his attempt to make you laugh.

Eddie is in a playful mood, and you were absolutely not. Your cramps had you hunching over in pain. You went through three pairs of panties after bleeding through them by accident. The last thing on your mind is sex. You know he's really just joking deep down, but the thought makes you wince a little. You've been in the same position all day. Huddled under numerous blankets you could find with a heating pad on standby.

He puts his hands on his hips, looking around his trailer. You could tell he's trying to come up with a solution to your problem. Unfortunately, the only solution is dealing with it for four days until it's gone.

Eddies' coveralls were covered in grease from the dirty cars he'd been fixing all day. You could see some of the grease smudged on his neck and face. His five o'clock shadow thickening up around his jaw. If it wasn't for your period, you'd definitely would take him up on his offer. You always thought he looked good on a daily basis. But there was something about how he looked after coming home from a long day at work that made you want to jump on him.

"Wanna take a shower with me?" Eddie spoke softly.

Your face softened, and the pout that was close to being permanent on your face disappeared. "Yea."

"After we clean up, I'm gonna order out and rub your back. You like that?" Eddie walked over to help you stand. Taking your hands into his.

"Mmhmm--id like that a lot, but you don't have to." You tried to argue feeling slightly guilty.

A back rub sounded like heaven, but he's been at work all day. The last thing he should be doing is waiting on your hand and foot. You were perfectly fine resuming what you've been doing all day anyway.

"Ah, ah, don't start. Let me help make you feel better." His tone is gentle, but his face was serious. You knew there was no arguing your way out of this.

"Okay, can we rent a movie too?" You sighed, wrapping your arms around him in a hug.

"Of course, whatever you want." Eddie squeezed you tighter to him.

He leads you to the shower and helps you undress. You asked him about his day loving how worked up he got at his coworkers sometimes. Eddie told about how some guy came in for an oil change that ended up lasting hours since the poor man had never had one before. You washed his hair, running your nails through his scalp. He hummed every time you did that for him. You swore if he was a cat, he'd be purring right now.

"All done?" Eddie asked, moving around to block the water from hitting your face.

"All done." You smiled, playfully tugging on his chin, causing him to giggle.

"Let's get you warmed, and then I'll make you feel better for a little while." He whispered.

Eddie did as he promised. He fed you. Warmed you up in his arms as you cuddled in his lap. He rented you The Princess Bride to watch. When the movie was over, Eddie guided you to the bedroom where he rubbed your back until you finally fell asleep.

"I love you." He bent over to kiss your cheek.

"Love you too." You muffled in your pillow. You were relaxed and your cramps subsiding. Sleep overtaking your exhausted body.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #my writing #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson x y/n

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v3nusxsky · 2 months

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Hii can I request one where reader is a very good student and the type of person who never gets in trouble or anything, but one day Larissa gets called to go get them at the police station because they got in a really bad fight, so on the way back she is kind of scolding them and reader doesn't open their mouths until they get to the school and reader just can't leave the car because they're scared, turna out they got into that fight because some jerks where being very homophobic/transphobic towards them and tried to physically hurt them so reader was just protecting themselves.

I know it can be a bit confusing, but I hope you can understand

Set up

*Authors note~ venting my feelings for this*

Trigger warnings ~ homophobia shitty friends fake friends arrest for assault hinted sexual assault

Prompt~ see ask^^^

How did you get here? Head resting against the dirty block of wood as deep marron flowers adorned your hair, vines attempting to fight their way out of your ivory gloves. All clear signs of the deep pain you were in. Yet the officers didn’t seem to care here, all they cared about was that you had hit another person. Maybe if they’d asked why it would’ve made more sense. But they never do.

Larissa Weems was fuming, it was extremely unlike you to do something like this. Violence is something you are terrified of, she almost asked the officer to check the Id of her student again. It couldn’t be you. Only this time it was. Normally this journey is done to fetch Wednesday Addams, not her estranged twin. Wednesday being your complete opposite meant you were sent to live in a facility to help tame your powers from a young age. Mortica hated it but it was necessary as you could be a danger to everyone your near.

“Let’s go” Larissa demanded making sure to add her frustration and disappointment to her tone. She was expecting some fight, an explanation but all she got was silence. Much like the police officer had warned her. Since you were brought in and questioned for assault you’d said nothing. Odd. You’d spent many evenings in Larissa’s office to catch up on studies and you were never non verbal even when things were tough.

The car journey being the exact same silence, your eyes holding all your emotions along with the flowers in your hair. Really you were just processing what happened which meant you couldn’t escape your head. Everything and everyone around you blurred into the background until the engine shut off.

“Come on daring” Larissa tried but was met with you looking like a deer caught in headlights, shaking your head. “Why? It’s Nevermore dear, you’re safe at Nevermore you know that right?” Was all it took for you to break down into silent sobs as you clung to be car door repeatedly mumbling no and don’t make me over and over.

As if she was approaching a scared cat she slowly sat back in the car shutting the door and waiting for you to make a move. It took some time but if there’s one thing about the principal it’s that she is a patient woman who would do anything for Nevermore and those within its walls.

When you moved it was like every inch was like waiting hours but eventually you lent over to lean your head on the woman’s lap as you tried to calm yourself. A gentle hand began to rub soothing circles on your back but accidentally hitting a sore spot causing you to help out. “Oh my darling, I’m sorry I didn’t know” she murmured which caused you to sit up tears silently running. “It’s my fault, they think I’m a freak. I shouldn’t like girls it’s wrong. Mother would be disappointed in me.”

“Darling, you can like whoever you want… is that what happened?” She murmured and you shook your head sadly. “I thought we were good friends, but she took me to this group of people and they kept trying to-“ you sucked a deep breath in, “touch me and I didn’t want them to!” You sobbed finally feeling relief of exposing the situation.

“Oh sweet one, you were defending yourself hmm?” Which you nodded sadly and whimpered apologies for dragging the schools name into this, that Larissa had to leave her quarters at such a late hour. It was truly heartbreaking but now she knew, she would protect you and any of her students from this pain again. It got to the point you’d exhausted yourself and fallen asleep in the car so she gently scooped you up and took you to the spare room near her quarters to make sure you were okay. It wasn’t easy but you had her for the long and painful journey of learning to love yourself for who you love.

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #larissa weems x reader #larissa #Larissa Weems #principleweemsxreader #larrisa weems #principal weems x reader #principal larissa weems #principle weems #comfort #principal weems x you #weems comfort #larissa x you #larissa x reader

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lewisvinga · 1 year

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mi capitán | sergio ramos x fem! reader

requested; yes!

request: Hi! I saw requests were open so I was wondering if u could write for sergio ramos (there's barely anything for him on here) maybe some fluff or reader comforting him after he finds out he won't be on the spain national team anymore (maybe an age gap if ur comfy I'm not sure it wasn't in ur rules) thx!

note; the spanish nt did ramos so dirty😒 THIS ID ALSO SOOO LATE IMSORRY 😩🙏🙏🙏

masterlist !

You were with Sergio the moment he got the call. At first, he wasn’t expecting any bad news. You assumed it was going to be something good until you saw his expression. He was nodding along to whoever was talking to him. His facial expression changes into a mix of sadness and anger.

You were confused. You didn’t know what was happening. What was he being told? Why was he so upset? Did something go wrong?

Your thoughts were interrupted by Sergio letting out a sigh as he hung up the phone. You turn to him and ask, “What happened?”

“I’m out.” He whispers, hiding his face with his hands.

“Out of what?” You quietly ask. He stayed silent. You rested your hand on his shoulder as you gently remove his hands from his face. “Sergio, out of what?”

“The national team.” Sergio says it so softly you almost didn’t hear him. You could see his eyes well up with tears before you wrap your arms tightly around him.

He found some sort of comfort by being in your arms. He held onto you as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “I should’ve expected it when I wasn’t called for the world cup. I should’ve seen it. But I don’t understand. I’ve done so much for this team, for my country.” He says in a shaky voice.

You run your fingers through his hair in attempt to comfort him. “You’ve done so much for Spain, mi amor. You even won their first world cup. They’re lucky enough that you were born in Spain. They’re lucky you were their capitán for so long. You’re the most amazing defender that I’ve seen and the most amazing player for España.” You softly tell him, your hand caressing his tear stained cheek.

The Spanish player places a soft kiss on your neck, his grip on your waist becoming tighter. “I’m so lucky to have you by my side, corazón. You always know how to make me feel better.”

“I’m even luckier to have you, amor. You’ll always be my number one. Mi capitán.”

#football imagines #football scenarios #footballer x reader #football one shot #sergio ramos x reader #sergio ramos imagines

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teachugger69 · 4 months

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a helping hand

summary: when reader is expressing her frustration with her skin, spencer is there to help her feel better (basically)

content/warnings: negative opinions on acne, mentions of food

category: fluff! (I think lol)

word count: 1k!

a/n: i've been wanting to write fic's for awhile, but like actually writing them is HELL compared to just thinking of cute little scenarios in my head for fun 😭 soooo im just gonna post this one because i could care less for it (if i post one that i actually love and people don't like it, I WILL BE CRUSHED AND NEVER WRITE AGAIN.) but anyway! please give me tips/advice if you have any :)

For the first time in years, your skin was breaking out- and heavily, too. Sighing, you sat up on the cold bathroom counter, intensely observing your newly conceived blemishes. (for an extensive amount of time.) Growing up, your skin was never in that oh so desirable clear state that all the other girls had. Not that acne was horrific, but you just felt like the odd one out when everyone else looked like modes for Goop.

In the living room, Spencer pauses his reading to glance across the apartment to the bathroom, a bubbling feeling of concern growing in him. Placing his book down, he walked over to check in on you, leaning against the open doorway. "Is something wrong?" Your sweet boyfriend asked in a caring tone. Turning on the counter so that you were facing him, you shook your head. "No- I- I'm breaking out." You groaned, breaking the number one rule of dermatology as you touched your face. "Y/N... it's okay, that happens-" "No! Spencer, I can't be breaking out like... this. I look so... ugly. I've been sticking to a strict skincare routine for this reason, and-" before you could even take a breath, Spencer quickly placed a chaste kiss to your lips. "You're not ugly, nothing can make you ugly- even this breakout." He said softly as he finally pulled away.

Why did Spencer have to be such a sweetheart? He always found a way to make you feel better, and you hated him for it. The sweet boy kissed all the spots on your face that had been affected (which probably wasn't helping, but who were you to complain?) Blushing, you lightly push him away, making a false face of disgust. "I hate you." You giggled and rolled your eyes, making Spencer let out a sarcastic gasp. "I'll live." He leaned in to whisper into the crook of your neck, leaving featherlight kisses on your pulse point. His slender fingers sliding down to caress the silky purple PJ set he bought you so excitedly. "I think you're beautiful, Y/n, I wish you could see yourself through my eyes." The boy mumbled against your skin as he delicately tried to pull the waistband of your shorts down.

"Wait-" "What's wrong?" He asked softly and pulled away. "I just- sorry- I'm just trying to figure out why I'm breaking out." You sighed and scooted down the counter to look in the mirror again. Spencer watched sadly as he saw you looking at yourself in such a negative light. Your brows furrowed as you leaned in closer, observing all of the new ugly bumps on your face. It was only when you started you squish your skin together, attempting to pop a pimple, when Spencer quickly grabbed your wrists, pulling them away from your face. "Spencer!" You frustratedly groaned, looking up at him in offense.

"Sweetheart, as much as I don't want to support this ideology... if you want to clear your skin, touching the blemishes won't help- let alone popping them." Spencer says in an incredibly quiet voice, almost as if he was scared to say anything to hurt you any more than you already were. "I can't wait for it to clear up. I've been avoiding everything wrong for years- these need to go away." You complained but listened to the genius, knowing he was right.

"How about this- how about we retrace your steps- maybe we can narrow down why you're breaking out...?" Spencer suggested thoughtfully as his hand gently brushed through your hair. You thought it out- and it was such a good idea! You nodded enthusiastically and Spencer couldn't help but smile as he saw your mood instantly heighten. "Okay, well... my skin has only been like this for a few days." Spencer nodded, taking into consideration why your skin might be acting up- and then it clicked.

"Oh! What about that new foundation you bought?! The... Maurice one? I dunno... It was clear- and expensive." Your smile faded as you bit your cheek, wondering if it really was the cause. "Makeup by Mario, baby. But... I don't think it would be because of that- that foundation is really expensive- and it has so many good reviews." You defended- mostly because you didn't want to believe that the new $42 foundation he bought you was behind your skin nightmare.

Your boyfriend thought to himself once more before he spoke again. "I uh- I think I might know why, now." He said, timidly looking down at his hands as he fiddled with them. "Well... What is it?" "Baby, it's- I-" "Just tell me, Spence." "I think it could be your diet- uh- because recently you've been- well- treating yourself. I love that you're letting yourself indulge in those foods- but they're good in moderation, my love." You just looked at him for a few seconds before giggling to yourself. "That's what you were scared to say?!" You snort and look at the boy who seems absolutely relieved that you didn't take it the wrong way. "Well... yeah." He blushed and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm glad you told me- you're like... the only one who can get away with bringing up my eating habits." Spencer let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding. "O-Okay, good."

You hopped off the counter, leading the two of you out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. "Guess we're going to have to say goodbye to these..." You sighed as you grabbed a box of doughnuts- stocked with the chocolate frosted ones with sprinkles that your boyfriend loved so much. As the box hovered above the trash, Spencer yelped a childish "No!", before he quickly grabbed the box away from you. You giggled and looked up at your immature boyfriend with a judging face.

"Well... what if I said you look sexier this way That you look better and that you don't have to change?" He stammered- hands finding their way to your waist. "You're gonna seduce me- just so we can keep these doughnuts?"

"Maybe. Or maybe I just always think you look sexy- and the doughnuts are just a coincidence..." Spencer grinned slyly and let out a stupid little chuckle.

"You're really stupid for a genius, you know?"

#spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic

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buttfishfan · 4 days

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People aren't completely wrong about Kara's story being really weak, but i also feel like people dont realize the amount of missed opportunity in her section of the game.

Kara's story could've been AMAZING if only David Cage knew what he was trying to write.

Sooo here's some ideas ive been mulling over for a couple weeks about how id fix Kara's story.

1. Making Alice human

Even when i was blind to a lot of the bad writing in Detroit this plot twist made me so agitated and confused because there was no plot twist it was seriously just david cage lying to the player for 12 hours 😭 making Alice human would fix many inconsistencies in Kara's story like how she just chooses to ignore the fact that Alice is an android and acts shocked when she finds out. Having alice be human also opens up the story to a more interesting themes about the bonds that can be formed between humans and androids like holy fuck david did you forget the story you were writing midway through 😭 If Alice was human it could also lead to new game mechanics or plot where kara would need to take care of Alice's human needs like food and water which then leads into Kara being put into situations where she is forced to do the "moral" thing and sacrifice comfort or to fight for Alice's survival.

2. Giving Kara's section of the game an actual overarching choice

The biggest reason i believe people think Kara's story is so boring is because in a game that prides itself on letting its players choose their very own story Kara's story allows for the least amount of choices. Both Connor and Markus have overarching distrinct choices that lead to VERYYY polar outcomes. Connor has the ability to deviate or stay a machine and markus has the ability to lead a peaceful or violent revolution. The only distinct outcomes in Kara's story is if you make it to Canada or not and even that is just if you chose the /right/ choices instead of the choices you consciously made. I wish there was more opportunities for Kara to be really evil and fucked up but all in the name of giving Alice the world. I know you're able to steal and lie in various chapters but it never felt like it had any true weight to how kara or the story progressed.

3. Give Alice an actual personality

Throughout the entire game Alice kinda doesn't do or say anything of value like I've seriously lost count how many times she's said "im cold". It makes no sense to me how you get the relationship status of family with her as Kara when you genuinely know nothing about Alice. She doesn't talk about anything. Even as an android she like must've had some sort of interest programing to act like a child but she just never shares anything even with the people that are supposedly the closest ones to her?? I feel like her personality should've been dependent on the way youd approach Karas story. If kara is willing to do immoral things for Alice's sake I feel like Alice should also be fucked up and evil cuz like, shes a kid and kara is her role model of COURSE she'll try an be similar to her mama. If Kara chooses to sacrifice comfort for morals then Alice takes after Kara in that respect too. So not only would you be responsible for how Kara acts you'd also be responsible for the way Alice acts which gives the player the choice of do they want this little kid to follow in the wrong steps or not?

Some ideas i have for how the story should've gone

Todd brings Kara home after she gets fixed and she meets Alice for the first time. Alice obviously knows Kara but after attempting to make Kara remember her she realizes that Kara's memory has been wiped. Since Kara would've probably been the only person to care for Alice before she was broken this would lead to Alice having a breakdown where she realizes her only protection and source of comfort is gone. Alice would probably resent or be distrustful of Kara a little in the beginning because of this.

I feel like running away should've been a more difficult decision on Kara's part. She's just come home from being fixed and she's already deviated i don't think she fully knows what she wants to do with Alice. Especially when they've started off their relationship with nothing i don't think Kara should've been leaning into the whole mom thing. It would've made more sense if their interactions started off as Kara just making sure Alice stays alive and then over time their relationshio actually has room to develop instead of starting off as mother daughter and ending off as mother daughter.

These are only some ideas. Im obviously not a writer but i just really care about this game and feel like it had too much lost potential 🙏🙏

#dbh #detroit become human fanart #d:bh #detroit: become human #kara dbh #dbh kara #ax400 #alice dbh #dbh alice #im the number one detroit become human fan

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blainesebastian · 2 years

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coffee cart girl

words: 2,424 ship: austin x female reader summary: you’re the coffee runner on the set of Elvis. Coffee deliveries run pretty easy, until Austin accidently spills coffee on you. notes: just for fun, couldn’t get it out of my head warnings: none

It’s one of those things where you can’t remember how the whole thing started. One moment you’re attempting to finish a script, get noticed, have someone other than your sister read what you’ve written to see if it actually makes sense, if it’s worth fighting for—and the next? You’re the coffee runner on studio lots, visiting trailer to trailer, getting orders and bringing them back. Celebrities, stars, directors, producers, writers, the whole world opens up to you. A friend of a friend, their aunt, got you the job—honestly you’re not overthinking it. This is your chance to make something of yourself, to put your foot in the door, to feel seen.

Except it never quite happens that way.

There’s the exact opposite effect, no one notices you. You blend into the background, become another body on a busy set, but hey—at least you can tell yourself, ‘one of these days I’ll actually show my work to someone’. Just a page, just pitch an idea. Go from there. And every day, you walk onto the same set of the movie you’re currently assisting on and do what you do best: grab coffee orders.

“Maybe this is actually my secret calling.” You grin, pushing your hair over you shoulder as you wave your ID badge to the security box entrance. They buzz you in and you wander on, seven AM, far too early for anything to be enjoyable.

Jillian, a beautiful redhead with tight curls and hazel eyes rolls them in your direction. She’s been working just as long as you have but with a very different job—hair and makeup. “Oh please Y/N, you just need to give yourself a chance. Let someone in? I’m sure you’ve got great ideas.”

You purse your lips, comfortable in a pair of black mom jeans and a white t-shirt today, simple. “How do you know? I could have some awful ideas. Hollywood’s full of ‘em.”

She snickers, “I dated an actor once, he thought he was God’s gift to film—trust me, I know a tacky personality when I meet one. And that’s not you.” She gently taps the tip of your nose, making you crinkle it, before hurrying off towards the hair and makeup trailer.

“Y/N.”

You sigh, head tipping back slightly to the sky as a resounding voice makes it to your eardrums. That’s Sal, an older woman who’s wrinkles remind you of crunched up old velvet and has a smoker voice to somehow match. She runs the show around here…quite literally other than Baz, who deals with everything that’s not the day-to-day small jobs. Sal’s job is to make sure everyone is on time, that trailers don’t need anything…that writes her paycheck.

You turn with a smile that somehow hurts your teeth, “Mornin’ Sal.”

“You gonna grab people’s coffee today or just stand there?” She asks, moving to hand over a slip, “Already did your job to grab the few orders of the people who are here already. Think you can handle the rest?”

You hum—kill her with kindness. “Absolutely, thank you.”

Your eyes run down the order list—mostly for hair and makeup, wardrobe, and then you catch a particular name towards the bottom—

Butler – black, two sugars.

Your eyebrows crinkle together before wandering towards the coffee cart. Sometimes people request Starbuck runs but it seems like today isn’t that day. Robotically, you begin filling coffee orders but the bottom name has you a bit stumped. Today is not the first day you’ve brought Austin Butler coffee and it won’t be the last, least until they’re done shooting Elvis. But you feel like you’ve got a pretty good memory when it comes to orders…and he does not do sugar. Sometimes it’s a treat with a splash of milk, but not sugar.

You make a judgement call, pouring the splash of milk and loading up the drink holder to make your rounds. Sal, ironically, is not the most detail-oriented person. This whole sugar thing has got to be wrong.

As you make your way around set to drop off coffees, you find yourself contemplating on the fact that coffee really is an all-day thing—whether it’s this early morning set call, late at night shoots or middle of the day cravings, nearly someone almost every two hours is requesting some sort of pick-me-up.

“Thanks Y/N.” One of the other makeup artist smiles at you, tipping the cup in a cheers motion and you wink back.

Two deliveries left…

Turning a corner around the trailer, you make a beeline for Austin’s, because odds are he has to be in front of a camera soon. Or at least to another trailer to get hair and makeup or wardrobe, whichever. No sooner do you walk up the steps to knock on the door, it opens, almost hitting you square in the face. Luckily—luckily? It hits your hands instead.

A sharp gasp leaves your mouth as hot coffee spills all over the front of you, but it’s not so much the noise you make in pain but moreso surprise. Your mouth opens, blinking once, twice, because—really?

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Austin says quickly, clearly rattled by the set of five shared moments. “I usually open the door a lot slower, I’m late.” He’s got that Elvis drawl—you’ve heard it a few times on set when you linger close to scenes taking place just to get a glimpse of how the written work becomes an actual picture.

Could really be you someday, your written words leaving an actor’s mouth. Not really feelin’ like today however with a very large coffee stain down your front.

“No, it’s—” You let out a soft laugh as he reaches for the coffee tray, your eyes flickering up—he’s not dressed as Elvis, not yet, hasn’t even been to hair and makeup yet because his hair is untamed, a soft black with iridescent hues hanging in a few strands over his forehead.

“I usually start the day like this, with coffee.”

He blinks, seeming to process that what you’ve said is a joke before a shy laugh tumbles out of his chest. “Right.” It’s an attractive sound, and maybe if you weren’t so flustered, you’d let yourself enjoy it. “Least lemme help you clean up or…get another coffee.”

“I think that’s my job.” You smile, but the offer is nice. Most of the time, or at least some celebrities you’ve come into contact with, kinda sweep interactions under the rug, make mistakes your problem, are too busy to even apologize. Which whatever, you’re not gonna hold that against them, you got more important things to worry about.

But the fact that Austin offers, even is willing to grab other coffees when he’s the star running late…it means something. A twisting in your stomach spreading heat like vines wrapping around a house, definitely something you’ll end up thinking about later.

“I got this, you’re late right? I can bring it to you wherever you’re going.”

He takes a step past you, still holding onto the coffee carrier because apparently he’s gonna throw that away. “Hair and makeup,” He runs a hand through his hair, as if on emphasis. And then his eyes flicker towards your chest and a small wince crinkles his nose, “What about a shirt?”

A laugh escapes your lips, almost can’t help it, “You wanna give me a shirt.” It is not a question.

Austin smiles, amused but seemingly a bit more comfortable than he was before. He knows how to hold your gaze when he speaks to you—nervous when he spilt the coffee but almost confident now. He’s got this particular look about him that he leads with his eyes, it’s in interviews when he’s speaking to someone (not that you have totally binged those on a YouTube, a black hole kinda night, or anything). But he’s capable of making you feel, no matter who you are, that you’ve got something important to add the conversation too. That it’s not just one sided.

That’s a typical Leo man, if someone were to ask you.

“I got spare t-shirts in my trailer.” He says and—Austin Butler is offering you a t-shirt to wear so you don’t have to deal with this stained one all day. And for whatever reason, you find yourself nodding, because what else are you supposed to do?

Totally doesn’t matter that you’ve got a sweater in your car that you could cover it up with. Austin is quick, moving back into his trailer because he’s still late and Sal will be on your ass in a minute if you’re not doing something productive. He comes back out with a simple white t-shirt, folded, and passes it into your hands before walking down the steps.

He turns at the bottom, “I just realized I don’t know your name—you bring me coffee every day, I’ve been meanin’ to ask.”

“Y/N.” You offer a small smile, motioning to the shirt in silent thanks, “Hair and makeup?” You ask to confirm, before, “Black with a splash of milk, right?”

He smiles, nodding, holding your gaze as he walks backwards, “Right.”

You hum in satisfaction—you knew Sal’s scribblings were wrong.

It’s a long day, and Jillian only asks about the t-shirt once because it’s obviously not what you were wearing this morning. Austin’s shirt is a little longer than yours, hanging on your body a bit loose. He’s skinny but taller. If Jillian puts it together as you bring Austin his coffee order when he’s getting his hair done, she doesn’t say a word.

But there’s this look in her eyes that tells you she knows. It makes you roll your own—not like anything will happen. You got a shirt because he was being nice, feeling responsible for the spilled coffee in the first place. There probably won’t even be another chance to talk to him at length like you did today and even that was quick—usually when you drop off his coffee he’s not even in his trailer.

It's towards the end of the night, most scenes wrapping up—you’re seventy percent sure there’s some Hanks shots being completed. Sitting on a picnic bench outside near the food tent, you scribble out a part in your script where the dialogue just doesn’t mesh. It doesn’t sound real, authentic—sometimes it’s hard to get out of your head and just let the characters speak to one another.

You let out a soft sigh, sticking the pen behind your ear…and blink when a coffee appears in your peripheral vision. And then if that’s not enough, it’s Austin. They must have been filming one of the earlier Elvis scenes because he’s in fifties get-up, a blue lace shirt that brings out his eyes in a ridiculous fashion. It’s unfair for him to approach you like this with no warning…and yet, you have a feeling he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Figured I’d pay you back for that coffee…then I realized I got no idea how you even take it.”

You smile, picking it up. It’s black, simple. You set the script down and blow on it—if Austin Butler brings you coffee, you drink it. “You don’t actually owe me anything, coffee was from set. And I like cream, sugar.”

He smiles a little, drawing his lower lip into his mouth for a moment, “Noted.”

“You done for the night?”

“Yeah, I gotta wash this gel outta my hair before I go. I learned the hard way that if I don’t, I won’t be able to get a brush through it in the mornin’.” You laugh slightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling when he smiles, “I’m kidding. Mostly.”

Handsome and a sense of humor—boy, are you in trouble.

Austin motions to the script beside you with his chin, “You a writer?”

You slowly turn it upside down—not because you’re afraid he might read it, but moreso out-of sight-out-of-mind. “Sometimes I like to pretend I am.”

“You ever let anyone read it?”

You shift a little, wrapping your hands around the hot cup of coffee, the heat seeping into your palms as a welcome distraction. He asks the question as if he already knows the answer and maybe he does—it feels like as he looks at you, he’s peeling layers of your skin back, seeing inside, reading words imprinted on your skin that no one has ever seen before.

Might just be your imagination, him in this beautiful Elvis getup, the soft blues of the lace and the sharp edge of the blue in his eyes.

“My cat.”

He smirks, shaking his head as he looks away. “Bet they’re a harsh critic.”

“Oh he’s ruthless.” You smile but it’s warm and genuine, comfortable. You did not expect your day to end up like this. Looking down into the cup of coffee, you treat it like a Magic Eight ball, as if it’ll give you a hint of what you should say next.

Ask again later.

You look up, your eyes trailing over his form for a moment, soft edges somehow sharpened at the same time. Steel in velvet. “Maybe one day, need to get it perfect.”

Austin purses his lips, “Perfect doesn’t exist—besides, sometimes flaws are the most interestin’.”

“You talking about my coffee-stained shirt again?” You tease, drawing the attention away from your script. You’re afraid he might be right about the whole ‘perfection’ thing…but there has to be a better version than what you got now. Right?

“No,” He laughs softly. Austin backs up a step, eyes towards his trailer—you can tell he’s tired, spent from the day, but at the same time wants to remain lingering. Like he might have more to say, or wouldn’t mind the conversation shifting into another topic, “But maybe don’t let the whole spillin’ thing become a habit, I only got so many spare shirts you can have.”

You laugh, tugging on the fabric, “This was your fault. You want this one back?”

He debates, for a half a second, his eyes slightly lidded as he looks at the shirt and you realize that you could take it off. Right there, in a cheeky manner. Your cheeks flush the softest of pinks, splotching to the back of your neck.

“Nah you keep it.” And the moment passes. Austin offers a small smile, “See you around tomorrow Y/N.”

“Tomorrow.” You nod, watching him turn to walk back to his trailer.

Thanks for reading :) I dunno if anyone would be interested in a part two, but I figured it never hurts just to put an idea out there!

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler drabble #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things #ccg #ccg series

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promenadewithme · 5 months

Text

Chapter 1 (The Kiss Of Eros)

a/n: i rewrote this because I hated the first draft Paring: Spencer Reid x Original Character (Rebecca Sanders) Warnings: swearing, reader thinking Spencer hates her, arson, yeah... enjoy!

Prologue Masterlist

My mother once told me that doing the right thing is harder than doing the wrong thing. She was absolutely correct. It’s extremely hard to hold myself back from punching Spencer Reid square on that pretty little face of his right now as he corrects me in front of the whole team, but I am set on doing the right thing. I am the bigger person. I will rise above this. I will not let him get to me.

Inhaling deeply in an attempt to calm myself, I look up at his face again. That stupid face and those stupid round glasses - that are somehow always clean - and that stupid perfectly brushed hair. Mr perfect all the fucking time.

“Excuse me?” I try to utter in my calmest possible voice. It still sounds like I want to rip his head off.

He doesn’t even have the dignity to look at me as he answers.

“You’re excused. I know you don’t have an eidetic memory like me. It’s easy to get these things messed up in a normal brain. However, fact is, serial arsonists are statistically under the age of 35. Not 30.”

Did he just call me dumb? What the fuck is a ‘normal brain’? I want to tell him that I won all of my spelling bees, that I was reading books by the time I was 4, that I was always top of my class, and that being able to memorize something with ease doesn’t make you the smartest person to walk the earth. But I don’t, mostly because JJ gives me a warning look from behind Reid.

We’ve had this talk before, countless times. I hate it that he never directs a word at me except when it’s to belittle and correct me, but apparently it's “bad for the team” and “not professional” when I lose my patience.

I take another deep breath and think happy thoughts. Reading a good book under a fluffy blanket on a rainy day, the sound of that rain against my window, watching videos of owls running with their little naked legs, having wine with the girls on our night off. Another deep breath.

“You’re right.” I acknowledge, though it burns my throat and hurts my very essence to say it.

Reid’s head snaps in my direction and he tilts his head to the side like a confused puppy “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.” I taunt. “Let’s get back to work, we have a serial arsonist to catch.”

Before he can say another word, I walk out of the room where we set up a few hours ago. This killer is smart, but we are smarter. I grab my phone to call Pen, but am interrupted by a familiar voice that makes my heart skip a beat in annoyance.

I stop in my tracks, but don’t look back at him. I don’t want to say anything I’ll regret later.

Let’s face it, Spencer is one of the team’s best assets and I’m… I’m good at what I do, I really am. But if they had to let one of us go, I know for sure it wouldn’t be him. So I force myself to breathe once again, because I am in my dream job and I will not let my feelings for this man ruin that for me.

When he notices I won’t be turning to face him, Reid steps in front of me and searches my face. I look away.

“Is there something you need, Doctor?” I inquire, pushing up my glasses. I want to add that if he wanted to stare at my face, he could just take a picture, but that would be too ‘middle school’ of me.

“‘You’re right’? I don’t think I have ever heard you say those words before, definitely not to me. Is everything alright?” I peek at him and his eyebrows are furrowed, eyes still trying to meet mine.

I scoff “Don’t act like you care about my feelings now, just take the win.”

My phone blasts with Taylor Swift’s ‘Me!’ and I don’t have to check the caller ID to know that Pen is calling.

“Excuse me.” I mutter to Reid before taking the call.

“What’s up?” I greet as I walk out of the police station for some air.

The cool end-of-autumn air caresses my skin and calms my nerves. I’ve always liked the cold, even though I’m not sure LA weather counts as cold, it’s better than heat. Cold weather means snow, hot drinks, fuzzy socks, no sweating, pretty outfits and that christmas is near.

“Tell me I’m the best.” Pen sings and a smile makes its way to my face.

“You, Penelope Garcia, are the absolute best in the whole wide world.” I praise.

“Thank you, baby! But you don’t even know what I found yet.”

I chuckle before asking “What have you got for me?”

“Prepare yourself…” I roll my eyes playfully at her suspenseful pause.

I hear the clattering of her fingers against the computer through the phone and, a second later, a notification comes through.

“I did some digging and found out that our victims were partners at a big law firm and, get this, due to an economical issue, they fired a bunch of people at the same time like 2 years ago. I just sent you the list of all the people who were let go and the address of the two other partners. You’re welcome.”

I run back into the station while I ask her to cross reference our profile with the list of fired employees.

“Just give me one…” she works her magic for a few more seconds before she calls out his name and address.

I walk into the room we set up in “We got him, Anthony Lewis. He’s living at his mother’s house on 54th Street Apartments.”

Gideon stands up from his chair and Reid looks surprised. Not so smug now, are you Mr smarty pants?

“That’s just a few minutes from here.” an officer says.

“Great,” I nod “I can go check it out if-”

“Guys…” Reid interrupts me and points at the television hung at the corner of the room.

The screen shows live footage of a news reporter in front of a huge house fire.

No.

No, damn it!

The flames take up the entirety of the house, windows already shattered, walls turning black with the blaze. There is no way anyone survived, not with how hot and fast the benzene flames burn.

“Does anyone know where that house is?” I ask, but my voice feels weak. I already know the answer.

“Looks like Vineyard Avenue.” another officer says.

I look down at my phone and check Pen’s message.

2955, Vineyard Avenue CA - Theodore Phillips.

Fuck.

“That is Theodore Phillips’ house. He was one of the partners at the law firm that fired Anthony Lewis 2 years ago. Our last two victims were also partners.” I slump down on the chair “There is only one left.”

I feel like a failure. I’ve been at this for a year already, but every death still takes a toll. Shouldn’t I be used to this by now?

“How long does it take from the fire site to his mother’s house?” Hotchner asks, standing up from his seat and buttoning his blazer.

“20 minutes.” Penelope answers over the phone.

“Morgan, Prentiss.” Hotchner charged “You two go to his mother’s house. Question both her and the suspect. He’ll be caught off guard when he gets home and you’re already there.”

With a nod, they were off.

“Gideon and I will go take a look at the crime scene. Reid, Sanders, you two will go to the remaining partner’s house. Make them aware of the situation, ask questions and keep their family safe.”

I want to protest, but they are out the door before I can say anything. My shoulders slump and my mouth snaps closed.

Shit.

I glance over at Dr know-it-all and he’s already crossing his worn brown leather messenger bag over his chest.

It’s okay, I can do this. I’m a professional. I’m not a kid anymore, I don’t need everyone to like me.

Yes, you do. A little voice whispers in my mind.

I sigh. Of course I do. I’ve never felt like I truly fit in anywhere, but here at the BAU… It really felt like a fresh start, like maybe I had finally found my tribe. Mostly, I did. Pen and I immediately clicked, JJ and Emily warmed up to me quite quickly, Hotch and Gideon were always warm and receptive in a father-figure way, Derek gets along with everyone, and then there’s Reid. Reid who shut down when he first saw me. I remember it clear as day, even now.

“And this is Doctor Spencer Reid.” Hotchner introduces.

I know who he is. I have watched every grainy video of his lectures, read every article, this man is one of the reasons I was so set on joining the BAU.

“Hi.” I offer my hand “I’m Rebecca Sanders.”

He just stares at me, grip tightening around the files he has pressed to his chest.

I sneak a confused look at Hotcher and he clears his throat. Spencer looks away, at anything but me.

“Sanders is the newest addition to our team.” my new boss says.

Nothing. I let my hand fall to my side.

I look at Hotchner and he presses his lips together before adding “She worked at CASMIRC for a while, but asked to be transferred here. She will make a fine addition, don’t you think?”

“Why?” he finally speaks, looking at the floor even now.

“E-excuse me?” I stutter.

“Why did you transfer here?” he specifies, still not catching my eye.

Because I still have nightmares with the children’s faces, because my last case destroyed me, because working with adults is easier, because of you.

“I’ve always wanted to be a part of the BAU, it’s my dream job.” I settle with the answer I gave in my interviews.

“I think you’ll find it’s hardly a dream.” he says before leaving the room.

“Did I do or say something wrong?” I ask, wide-eyed.

Hotchner shakes his head, looking over at the door Doctor Reid left open “I don’t know.”

Reid clearing his throat brings me back to the present.

“Looks like it’s just you and me.” I force a smile.

He looks at his shoes and nods. Dear Lord, this is going to be harder than I thought.

“I’m going to need you to speak to me if we’re going to be pairing up.” I try.

“There is nothing to say.” he states, pushing up his glasses. Still not looking at me.

I give JJ an exasperated look and she just shrugs.

“Look, I get that you hate me or something, even though I don’t know what I ever did to you, but can we just act like two civilized human beings for once?”

His brows furrow “I don’t hate you.”

I scoff “Well, it sure seems like it. You know what? It doesn’t matter. Let’s just go.”

“Behave.” JJ calls out.

“Yes, ma’am.” I walk out the door and don’t wait for Reid.

I gaze down at my phone and see that Pen is still on the line. Shit. I bring it to my ear again and wince. “Sorry, Pen.”

“Yikes, that was tense.” I can hear her grimace from here.

“Yeah, he hates me.”

“Now, don’t say that.” she chides lovingly “You just have to have a little more patience with Spencer. He’s a really nice guy if you get to know him.”

I scoff “Yeah, right.”

I push the door to the station open and let it fall closed behind me.

“Sweetie, is this still about how he didn’t shake your hand when he met you? Because you should know by now that it’s not personal.”

Speaking of the devil, he finally catches up to me and stands looking at my face expectantly.

“Amongst other things.” I reply sheepishly.

I know it wasn’t personal, but I was so let down when it happened. Reid was the person on the team I was most looking forward to meeting. I read all his articles and learned all about his previous cases. He was a genius and… some could say that he was a sort of professional crush of mine.

That is, if blushing and kicking your feet while watching a video of one of his lectures is considered professional. Ok, I’ll admit, I really liked the sexy round glasses and the sweater vests and the hair. And, oh God, the veiny hands. Ok, maybe it was a bit more than a professional crush. But I just thought he was so smart and so pretty, he looked so kind too.

Never meet your heroes, right?

“Listen, I have to go, but thank you for your help.” I look at Reid from the corner of my eye and he’s still staring at me.

He’s always staring when I’m not looking, but never looks at me when I speak to him. Why won’t he knock it off?

“At your service, my liege.”

We say our goodbyes and I put my phone in the pocket of my gray plaid skirt. Straightening out my maroon sweater and trading my normal glasses for my oversized sunnies, I don’t spare Reid a second glance before following the street signs to where I want to go.

“Where are we going?” he calls out behind me, running awkwardly to reach me.

I bite my lip to hold in a laugh. Okay, maybe this won’t be so bad. I can get him to talk, maybe he’ll even not hate me by the end of the day.

“I’m taking the metro, you can follow if you like.” I call back before looking over my shoulder at him with a smirk “Have you ever taken the metro, kid?”

“Don’t call me kid,” he grumbles, catching up to me “I’m two years older than you.”

“One year and 11 months.” I counter.

“Technically, 673 days.”

“But who’s counting?” I say, turning the corner “What matters is that I’m more experienced than you.”

He blushes profusely, before defending himself “I’m experienced.”

“In the tube?” I ask “I don’t really see you as a public transportation kind of guy.”

He doesn’t answer. Of course he doesn’t.

He just looks at his shoes and keeps on walking.

So much for communication.

Tag list: @dreamsarebig (tell me if you want to be added)

Likes, reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fandom

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butchbarbieagainstterfs · 1 year

Text

let’s talk about this! was going to tag her but I’m pretty sure she blocked this blog so about the topic of jeffrey marsh:

“most”? girl, one person potentially doxxed and threatened her children. the rest of us were basically just calling out her lies for what they were. none of us advocated for anyone being physically threatened or doxxed. I don’t endorse that. no one should be doing that shit. anyone that is deserves what they get.

but you lot - because you’ve made it patently obvious you yourself are a terf - physically threaten and doxx trans people all the time and tell trans people you’re going to get their kids taken away from them. don’t cry now just because some fucked up asshole did it to one of you. how many threats do you think jeffrey has gotten just this week?

also: there is no evidence jeffrey is grooming anyone. shumirun cropped and edited videos of them and screen recorded 18+ content that children were never invited to and was locked behind a pay wall and posted on a 13+ app when she knows some of her followers are 12, 13, 14, 15. her being a muslim is irrelevant to me and most people I’ve encountered, and doesn’t mean she can call people groomers without solid proof.

as someone on tiktok said themselves, why have none of you pretended to be a minor on jeffrey’s 18+ patreon to catch them out? because there have been thousands of accounts calling them that in their comments and such for ages, shumirun just took it a step further by posting the accusations on her page then doubling down for 7 million followers to see. you’re telling me not one of you thought to pretend you’re a minor and attempt to talk to them? I’m guessing some of you did try that and didn’t like the answer you got, eh?

next part!

jeffrey isn’t doing anything at all suspicious.

shumirun’s discord however was literally a playground for actual predators. multiple kids from it said people were interacting with them in a weird way. where is this energy for her? I don’t think she is a predator, don’t get me wrong, I’d never accuse someone of that without evidence but you’d be dragging jeffrey’s name even more through the mud if that was them with that kind of discord and they admitted to playing roblox with 12 year olds. you’d also be dragging their name through the mud id they’d lied about having a health condition to get a job and endangered kids in the process.

also: her using their pronouns (not preferred in jeffrey’s case, they’re just their pronouns) doesn’t change that she used a transphobic (and homophobic) stereotype against them, follows an anti-trans group on twitter and liked tweets that were maliciously misgendering them.

last part!

ding ding ding, there’s the terf dogwhistle! the fact you would have less sympathy for a child being murdered because they’re trans (brianna wasn’t murdered by “males”, one cis boy and one cis girl have been charged with her murder) says far more about you than it does about me, “bestie”. also the fact you support all these conservative laws? you realise they’re coming for you too, right? 😬 don’t worry though. we “evil TRAs” will be fighting against any anti gay legislation even if you won’t fight the anti trans ones.

and you have said so much abhorrent shit about trans folk but a lesbian calling himself a dyke in his bio is where you drawn the fucking line? lmfao what the fuck 😭

have a nice day and enjoy the block that will be coming your way very soon 🥰

#child murder tw #transphobia tw

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i-like-giving-orders · 8 months

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[ID: 2 dialogue bubbles. The first one on the left says "If you didn't have your body..." The second one picks it up where the last one left off. It says "...you would definitely be like me." /End ID.]

i know that daniel will probably be haunted by these words and wonder whether there's some truth to them but imo while jiho is right that daniel only got better as a consequence of having 2 bodies, jiho and daniel are very different people

jiho is right that they suffered similarly by being bullied for their looks and he is also right that daniel was able to escape that when he switched, but the things that sets them apart are 2 things imo: kindness and a fighting spirit.

you see, when given the opportunity, daniel chooses kindness. jiho has to be grudgingly coaxed into it. when daniel got his second body, he decided to use his privilege to stop jiho and duke from being bullied. he gave duke a nudge and duke ran with it. he tried to do the same with jiho and jiho got entitled. truthfully, if jiho had gotten a second body, i cannot imagine he would have done similarly. he simply would not have become the handsome and strong saviour of the weak. if anything, he probably would have cozied up to vin jin and become a bully himself.

i dont think daniel would have improved without the confidence his second body gave him and the opportunities it opened to him, but the thing with people is that most don't improve without some kind of support. while his mom tried his best, we see him hiding stuff from her since the beginning as to not worry her, so there's only so much she can do. once he got support tho, just a little, he thrived. jiho, well, is not the same way. he got it, but he focused on the wrong things, and, as the last chapter of his arc pointed out, his schizophrenia didn't help his situation and overall personality.

now, im not sure fighting spirit is the correct term, but english is not my first language so i hope i will be able to make clear what i mean.

so at the beginning of the story neither daniel nor jiho fight. they don't have the confidence, the strength, the technique, etc. they both learn to fight in different parts of their lives: daniel with his friends in an attempt to become better and jiho in prison in an attempt to survive. since they are in such different places for this, we cannot compare them. however, we can compare their spirit.

at every opportunity, daniel is trying to do good. when daniel has to make a tough choice, he doesn't shy away from it. he's making mistakes, and he doesn't let people stop him, but because he cannot conceive giving up now that he knows what he is capable of. on the other hand, jiho fought, sure, and we see he is taking decisive action, but all with the intention of getting a second body so he can escape. daniel even offers him a second chance, despite everything he did, which includes but it is not limited to trying to kill him, and he turns him away to try to kill him again. why? perhaps because it's difficult. it's easier to think you can't change. that way, you can't disappoint yourself. despite what he said, we know it's not because he actually thinks people dont change. his mind didn't conjure an image of his past self trailing after him like a spectre, like a whole ass different person, for nothing. in the end, when refused the chance to escape and fearing betrayal from jake, he committed suicide. jiho didn't sit on the edge the building by mistake. although he didn't know it yet, the moment he had stepped foot on the roof, he had given up.

tldr: despite their similarities, when given a little help, daniel chooses to be better, helps others, and offers second chances. jiho, on the other hand, doesn't.

#wow this got long #daniel park #park hyung seok #park hyungseok #jiho park #lookism webtoon #line webtoon #lookism meta #lookism #my property #queueing this and not looking back lol #park ji ho #park jiho

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capcavan · 5 months

Note

okay anon from that one ask you reblogged i think i might have worded that a little wrong. its less about prettying him up or making fun content of him and more of a lot of people with few select exceptions either ignoring riko as a character because hes a bad person (majority) or ignoring rikos actions (which i have seen, though not often at all). i personally love your riko content, youre like one of the only people in the aftg fandom not afraid to do anything with him and explore his character. and this is not an attack on you or how you see riko but i wish more people took the time to analyze him. i have so many thoughts about riko that i’m afraid to say in case of backlash, but i really wish there was more content only how other people see him too. i mean i get it hes a bad person and people dont like him but hes also a character. he isnt real riko moriyama will not jump you if you talk about him. sorry if that doesnt make sense when i sent that ask it was not about you at all

hi! please do not take my messages as some attempt at discourse i just believe that topics like this should not be left vague because different people put different amount of attachment to details [me for example due to my history in this fandom i do get pretty sensitive when vague things are said this way so i might have taken the general conversation personally but hey i am defensive of my little menace! someone has to! ] I'm glad you enjoy my stuff! > i have so many thoughts about riko that i’m afraid to say in case of backlash Feel free to spam my inbox or i can add you on discord dm? i love talking about the lil bitch!!!! >or ignoring riko's actions (which i have seen, though not often at all) see this is the thing i am interested in because i OBSESSIVELY follow riko content , i spend DAYS brushing riko moriyama tag and digging up bunch of old abandoned blogs and i just never saw someone make claims like this! (id know i woudl def try to make friend with them lmao) I'm sorry if my approach to this case is dismissive maybe i really missed it but it kind of just feels like generalization of people saying ,, he did nothing wrong" as a meme , nobody who can read would actually genuinely believe this But please let me just say up front - i like talking about things and having discussion its not argument drama or discourse okay? no hard feelings anywhere , i really really am happy to be proved wrong (bc this means there is riko content somewhere out there i had not found yet GIVE ME )

#riko moriyama

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thebadgerclan · 9 months

Text

Through It All

Pairing: Alex Claremont-Diaz x Henry Fox

Summary: Alex will be there through it all...

A/N: So I've been obsessed with Red, White, & Royal Blue for a while, but now I'm doubly obsessed because of the movie coming out soon. So voila! I might write more for these boys, and I know my requests are closed, but if you have ideas of one shots for firstprince, I'd love to see them!

There were three things distinctly wrong with Alex’s current situation. One: he was in London attempting to sleep off jet lag instead of snuggled in his boyfriend’s arms in their Brownstone. Two: Henry was not with him; he was a few miles away at Buckingham Palace for a round of charity appearances and family events. And three: Alex was categorically not invited. Queen Mary’s invitation had explicitly instructed Henry not to bring his “American paramour” (nevermind the fact that there was currently a velvet ring box buried in Henry’s underwear drawer back home), and that the Crown was having a difficult enough time fending off bad press as it was (like he and Alex shared anything more than a kiss in public).

Henry, of course, hadn’t listened. There was no way Alex would be able to attend any of the appearances, but Queen Mary couldn’t stop him from staying at Kensington, as much as she would probably like to. So, Alex was here, in Henry’s apartments, with the gold and cream brocade that he hated, with no Henry. He supposed he’d rather be bored and lonely here than bored and lonely in New York, at least he’d have his boyfriend in his arms at the end of the day.

Alex was pulled from his musings by his phone ringing. The caller ID informed him it was Bea calling, which raised a red flag. Bea rarely called him. Alex hurried to answer, trying to calm his racing heart. “Hello?” “Alex, thank God,” Bea said. She sounded out of breath, which did nothing to stem Alex’s growing panic. “Bea, what’s wrong? Is Henry okay?” “...No, not really.”

With three words, Alex was imagining every possible worst-case scenario. Henry was hurt, he was dead, there had been an assassination attempt. “What happened?” “We were supposed to have new portraits taken today,” Bea explained. “And Henry commented that you should be here. Gran…she just exploded. She started screaming at him, saying terrible things about you and Hen. I…can’t even repeat some of them. Mum tried to talk her down, but she wouldn’t listen.

“She’s still going,” Bea said, concern for her brother plain in her voice. “She kicked everyone else out of the room. I think Hen was too stunned to move, to try to leave. He’s still in there with her.” Alex felt like the floor had been torn out from under him. “Amy!” he shouted, and his Secret Service agent came bursting into the room, hand on her gun. “Where’s the threat?” “How soon can you get me to Buckingham?” She consulted her phone, responding an instant later.

“15 minutes.” “Get a car ready,” Alex said, and his tone left no room for questions. “Bea, I’m on my way. Listen, tell Henry I’m coming.” “If I can get a word in edgewise, I will,” she replied, and Alex ended the call. Alex found the first pair of shoes he came across, grabbing his well-worn NYU hoodie before running through the halls of Kensington Palace to the waiting car. “I’m coming, baby,” he whispered to himself as he shut the car door. “I’m coming.”

***

Either the guards at Buckingham had been told Alex was coming and to let him in, or they were smart enough not to get in the way of an angry Alex Claremont-Diaz. Bea was waiting for him on the first floor. “Is he okay?” Alex asked, not slowing his strides. Bea kept pace with him, guiding him in the right direction. “No,” she said. “It’s bad, Alex. Really bad. Gran said some of the most racist, homophobic shit I’ve ever heard.”

Alex nodded, rounding the corner to find Catherine pacing outside a closed door. “Alex,” she said, her voice shaky as she pulled him into an embrace. “I’m so sorry, we-” “Henry,” Alex said, cutting her off. “I just need to see Henry.” Catherine nodded, gesturing towards the closed door. “He’s in there. Mary’s gone, so you don’t have to worry about her.” “Thanks,” was all Alex said before he was throwing open the heavy doors and entering the room.

He found Henry huddled on the ground, curled in on himself, body shaking as he sobbed. “Baby,” Alex whispered, dropping to his knees before him. “Henry, baby, I’m here.” Henry looked up as if in disbelief that Alex was in front of him, his eyes red and swollen. “A-Alex?” “Yeah baby, it’s me. I’m here.” Henry dissolved into fresh sobs, and Alex couldn’t bear it; he sat and pulled his boyfriend into his lap, clutching him greedily to his chest.

Henry was shaking, heart wrenching cries leaving his lips, and Alex smoothed his hair back, kissing his forehead. “Here, baby,” he said, taking the NYU hoodie in hand. “I brought this for you.” Henry reluctantly lifted his head, and once he saw what Alex had, let him pull it over his head. Alex had worn it to sleep the night before, so it smelled exactly like him, something that brought Henry more comfort than he cared to admit.

The Prince buried his face in Alex’s neck once more, and Alex let him, rocking him gently back and forth, stroking a hand up and down his back, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. “I’ve got you,” he cooed, arms tight around Henry. “I’m not going anywhere, H. I love you, baby. I’m yours, I’ll always be yours.” Henry’s sobs had quieted to soft cries, and he sniffled, wiping his face on the sleeve of Alex’s hoodie.

“I’m getting snot on your clothes,” he said, which made Alex laugh. “We’ll wash it, baby. Are you okay?” Henry shook his head. “No. Gran, she…fuck she…” “Hey, it’s alright,” Alex interjected. “Take your time, sweetheart.” Henry nodded, continuing after a moment. “She called you horrible things, Alex, she told me that I’m a disgrace, that I’m a stain on the family. And then she said…”

Henry had started to hyperventilate, and Alex gently took his face in his hands. “Breathe with me baby, okay? In….and out…. Good, again.” Henry’s breaths were shaky, but after a few cycles of mimicking Alex’s breathing, they leveled out. “She said ‘If you must carry on as you are, must it be with someone like him?’” Alex didn’t need to ask what Mary had meant by that, he knew: why must Henry “carry on” with a Mexican-American, a man of color. “Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have had to hear that.”

Alex kissed his forehead, and Henry let out a sob. “I want to go home,” he cried. “I don’t want to be here, standing with my family, pretending that I don’t want to be in your arms! I don’t want to shove you aside whenever I’m here, act like you aren’t the world to me!” Alex’s heart skipped a beat or two at that, and he nodded. “Then we go home, baby. Back to New York, yeah? Snuggle up with David and watch Bake Off?”

Fuck, if that didn’t sound like heaven. But Henry shook his head. “I can’t. I have appearances to make, charity visits to do, I–” “Baby, hey, baby,” Alex said, cutting off his spiraling. “Maybe….maybe you ate something off at the gala last night. Maybe you can’t appear at functions because you’re puking your brains out. Maybe your stupidly handsome boyfriend had to take you home.”

Henry managed another laugh. “Maybe… Or maybe…” Alex stayed quiet, waiting for Henry to speak when he was ready. “Or maybe I’m done.” “What?” “Maybe I’m done,” he repeated. “I can’t keep doing this, Alex, This isn’t healthy for me, to get myself so upset like this. There’s clearly no changing Gran’s mind, so what if I’m just done?” Alex took Henry’s hand, squeezing softly.

“H, are you suggesting abdication?” “No, not yet. Once Mum’s Queen, things will be better, but for now…I can’t do this to myself. What if I cut contact? Stopped coming to functions?” Alex, tightened his hold on his boyfriend. “Baby, that’s entirely up to you, and you know I’ll support you, but maybe this is a choice you should make on a clearer head.” Henry thought for a moment before nodding.

“You’re right. But I…fuck, I hate this! I hate hearing people talk about you, about us, like I don’t hear! I hate it, Alex!” More tears built at the corners of Henry’s eyes, and when they fell, Alex held him tight, wishing more than anything that he could take his pain away. For nearly a half hour, Henry sat curled in Alex’s lap, letting himself cry, letting every ounce of hurt and anger out, until he was limp with exhaustion.

Alex gently tipped his chin back so he could look at him, smiling sweetly. “There’s my pretty boy,” he said, and Henry blushed. “What do you say we go back to Kensington, get our stuff, and go home?” Henry nodded, letting Alex move him from his lap to stand. His legs were stiff and half-asleep from so long spent on the floor, but he didn’t care, only helped his boyfriend to stand, pulling him into a kiss once he was.

Catherine and Bea were waiting outside, worry painted on their faces. Henry was exhausted from the emotional beating he’d taken, and he looked up at Alex, hoping he’d understand. He did, as he somehow always did, and spoke. “We’re going home,” Alex said. “Today was a lot for Henry, and he just wants to go home.” Catherine came to embrace her son, holding him tightly. “I love you, my baby,” she whispered. “And I will always love you, no matter what anyone else says.” Bea pulled her brother into a hug, then Alex, before the pair were back in the car to Kensington.

Eight hours later, Alex and Henry were back in their Brownstone, a very happy David pawing at their ankles. The events of the day combined with a trans-atlantic flight had Henry beyond exhausted, and he had barely gotten in the door before collapsing. Alex half-carried him to the couch, tucking a blanket over him and kissing his forehead. “I love you, baby,” he said. “You gonna be alright if I run to the store?”

Henry nodded, already dozing off. When Alex returned, he found Henry asleep, still wearing Alex’s NYU hoodie, the hood drawn up over his blond hair, David curled up on his chest also fast asleep. Alex drew his phone from his pocket, snapping a picture of the heartbreakingly adorable scene before him (which he would later post on Instagram with the caption “My entire heart ❤”).

The sound of the camera shutter woke Henry, who smiled upon seeing Alex. “You’re home.” “I am.” Alex leaned in for a kiss. “What’d you buy?” In response, Alex handed Henry the bag. “Gatorade, ginger ale, soup, saltines? Alex, what…?” Alex pulled up the Royal Family’s Twitter page and handed his phone to his boyfriend.

Prince Henry stricken with stomach flu, forced to return to New York. Henry smirked, nodding. “I see. And all this…?” Alex took his phone back, pulling up another tweet. It was a picture of Alex leaving the general store, the caption reading: Alex Claremont-Diaz buys soup for sick boyfriend. Henry smiled. “Good thinking, love,” he said, and Ales kissed his cheek. “This ain’t my first rodeo, baby.”

He moved David from the couch and crawled behind Henry, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s middle. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered. “About today. That never should have happened.” Henry shifted closer to Alex, shrugging. “But it did,” he said. “And it keeps happening. At least I have you.” “Damn right you do, baby. You’ll always have me.”

Alex found the remote wedged between the couch cushions and put an old episode of The Great British Bake Off on, smiling when David hopped back onto the couch, nestling into the divot between Alex and Henry’s bodies. “I love you,” Henry said quietly, and Alex pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. “I love you too, baby.” Whatever came next, whatever challenges they faced, Henry knew that Alex would be steadfast by his side through it all.

#firstprince #alex claremont diaz x henry fox #firstprince fluff #red white and royal blue #rwrb #rwrb fanfiction

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moronic-validity · 6 months

Text

The Ball pt 1

Surprise guys!!!! We've got a two-parter for this chapter because I spliced it weird!

18+ because the rest of the DWU is, but let's dive right in!

Simon rolled over in bed and kissed Winter’s head before getting up and dressing for the day. He knew he’d be representing, again, and had to mentally prepare himself for it.

Winter had been like this for weeks.

He had become a ghost of himself; refusing meals, spending his days in bed, and his nights locked in his study. He would crawl into bed and lay there unable to sleep, unable to clear his head, unable to find peace.

“Will you try to join me for lunch today?” Simon called over his shoulder as he buttoned his shirt.

Winter didn’t respond.

Simon turned and looked at the man in bed.

“Is there anything I can get you? Some water? Snacks?”

Again, no response.

He had expected this, but he was going to keep trying until he responded.

Simon put on his jacket and passed by the table full of water cups and uneaten food.

He had gotten used to the lack of responses and the untouched food. It was the pattern Winter fell into after Marceline had left. He had been second-guessing if he had pushed him too hard to let her go.

It was weird being alone in the throne room.

The Ice Scouts weren’t bad company, in fact, they were even funny from time to time, but they weren’t Winter.

He refused to sit on the throne, he had attempted to at first, but it felt wrong, instead, he sat at the small table that had become his station.

He flipped through the letters the castle had received and stopped when he found Doctor Princess’s messy handwriting.

He tore the letter open and read it excitedly.

‘Simon,

I hope this letter has found you well, seeing as I haven’t heard from you in a month.’

He snickered at her passive aggressiveness before continuing.

‘I know the king is probably keeping you busy with your advisory duties, but I hope you haven’t forgotten your friends. I’m reaching out, not only to hear from you but to find out why I wasn’t invited to last month’s ball. Did you tell him I don’t enjoy them?

Hope to hear from you soon,

D. Princess’

Simon set the letter down and did some mental math.

He hadn’t realized the ball had been missed, nor was he particularly hurt by it.

He slipped through the rest of the letters and realized they were all from Ooo royalty, and after reading them, he realized they were all about the missing ball.

Simon picked up his pen and wrote back to Doctor Princess before figuring out how to address the other letters.

‘Doctor Princess,

I do apologize for the absence of my letters. I’m afraid Winter has been going through a bit of a rough patch and was bedbound on the date of the last ball. He doesn’t know you don’t like them unless you told him yourself. I will include my phone number at the end of this letter so you may have an easier time contacting me. These letters are very easy to lose track of!

S. Petrikov’

Minutes after he sent the letter away, his phone rang.

“What do you mean he’s bedbound?” Doctor Princess yelled into the phone.

“Good morning Doctor,” he laughed at her urgency, “Winter has been struggling as of late, so I’ve been doing my best to run the kingdom myself. I didn’t think the ball was the most urgent thing to deal with.”

He could feel her rolling her eyes through the phone.

“Siiiimon, of course the balls matter, they give these royals a place to handle business and build kingdom relations without the stress or pressure of a formal meeting! Do you know how many wars have been avoided through these dances?”

“Wait, wars?”

“Yes, wars!” Doctor Princess sighed before continuing, “I’m coming to the castle. Best case scenario, I can help whatever has Winter bedbound, worst case, we’re throwing this month’s ball.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good ide-” he heard the click of the call disconnecting.

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. This was the first, and only, time he found himself actively wishing there was a property dispute to settle.

He sat and waited, made small talk with the Ice Scouts about their new training program and how it was going, and looked through all the letters inquiring about the missed ball.

Doctor Princess walked into the throne room, smiled, and opened her arms.

“Honey, I’m home!” She called in a sing-song voice.

Simon stood from his desk and walked to the door, hugging his friend. He was so tired, he went limp in her arms.

“Whoa dude, I thought you said Winter was the one bed-bound?” She said, holding up the weight of the larger man.

“He is,” came the muffled reply.

“Well, what are we waiting for, where is he? What are his symptoms?”

“Doc, I know what’s wrong with him,” Simon stepped away and sighed, “We struggled with depression a fair bit when we were younger; frankly speaking, we still do. I’m not sure I’ve ever been this bad, but it looks like…with him having a more amplified version of my personality…even the depressive episodes have intensified.”

“Okay, so what worked for you?”

“Prozac.”

“Simon, that’s going to be a bit of an issue,” She rubbed the back of her neck, thinking through all the medications she had worked with over the years, “I haven’t even heard of Prozac before.”

“Yeah, it’s a relic from before the war. I went through hell when I ran out,” Simon chuckled, remembering how bad it had been, “I had the worst migraine of my life, and at the end of the world no less…though it did make me realize how bad I felt when I was on it. I forgot that I wasn’t supposed to feel nauseous all the time, or that my hands weren’t supposed to shake.”

Doctor Princess’s jaw dropped.

“Dude, that sounds like it was making you feel worse.”

“Yeah well, medicine was just…like that back in my day. It would fix some of your issues, but then cause new ones, which meant more medications,” Simon shrugged, “It was cyclical.”

“There is so much to unpack with that, but not right now,” She walked past Simon and sat at the table Winter kept set up for meetings, “Right now though, we have bigger fish to fry.”

Simon took Winter’s usual place, facing Doctor Princess.

There was an air of seriousness and urgency in their party planning that made it feel more like they were discussing battle plans.

“Ice Scouts?” Simon called, the two came rushing to his side.

“Yes, Advisor Simon?” the one on the right answered for them.

“You guys can just call me Simon, ummmm…okay, I’m going to call you Amanda,” he pointed to the one who spoke, “and you Beatrice,” he pointed to the other, “that’ll make it so much easier to assign tasks.”

“Actually, my name is Zima,” ‘Amanda’ corrected, “and their name is Heilo.”

Simon blinked a few times, processing the new information.

“You…you guys have names?”

“I don’t know why you’re shocked, you have a name, don’t you?” Heilo chimed in, putting a hand on their hip.

Simon looked to Doctor Princess, who shrugged.

“That is a very good point…Heilo…Would you be able to organize the refreshment table?” As soon as Simon issued the request, they skated off.

“Zima, I have a different task for you,” Simon shuffled his papers and handed the Ice Scout one of them, “Could you run this by the tailor? I know it’s rather late for a project of this size, but I really need this done by tonight.”

“Simon, I’m not one to judge, but is now the time for a new outfit?” Doctor Princess chimed in, resting her head on her hand.

“It’s not for me,” Simon laughed, as Zima left with the paper, “it’s a present and a bribe.”

“A bribe? You’re going to bribe the king? With a new outfit from his own tailor?”

“He really likes new clothes.”

They gathered their sketches and made their way to the ballroom.

“Simon, do you have a plan to get this place decorated? Winter usually does ice sculptures or that thing with the lights.” Doctor Princess did a spin, taking in the barren room.

“Honestly, I do not. Not at all. I haven’t even sent out the invitations yet.”

She turned to face him.

“Are you serious dude?”

“As a heart attack.”

“Simon, focus on sending out the invites, I’ll figure out the decorations.” She walked him to one of the tables in the far corner and sat him down.

Simon made himself comfortable and began sending out the default invitation that Winter had on standby.

He sent them out as he wrote them, barely paying attention to the names of recipients.

Simon saved the most important one for last.

The only one he needed to write himself.

He got up from the table and stretched.

“Hey old man, you almost done?” Doctor Princess called from across the room.

“Yeah, everything is sent out and I’m hoping we’ll have a good turn ou-,” Simon cut himself off as he looked around the room, “How did you get all of this done so quickly?”

The room was covered in paper streamers and snowflakes.

“It wasn’t that hard,” she laughed, climbing down her tower of ice chairs, “The worst part was the climb up!” She jumped down the last few feet, dusted herself off, and made her way to stand by Simon, “So what do we have left?”

“Well, we’re waiting on Heilo to get back with the refreshments, then I guess we just have to wait for everyone to show up,” Simon sighed, “It’s going to be nothing like Winter’s parties, do you think anyone is going to show up?”

Doctor Princess grabbed him by the shoulders and made him face her.

“Have you not heard a word I said?” She gave him a joking shake, “Simon, there parties are important. They’ll come.”

Winter was staring at the wall, trying his best to find sleep, when he was startled by a knock at his door.

Simon never knocked.

He wrapped his blanket around himself as he dragged himself to the door of his room.

No one was there, just a suit bag with a note attached.

He grabbed both off the door and shut himself back in his room.

As he scanned over the note, his expression softened.

My dearest Winter,

There is a ball occurring tonight and I would love for you to be my date.

I know things haven’t been easy lately. I won’t pretend they haven’t been.

Knowing this, I will not hold it against you if you reject my invitation.

Though I would love to see you there.

My heart,

S. Petrikov

Winter set the note on his bedside table and opened the suit bag. It was a deeper blue than his favorite suit, the jacket was longer than usual, the tail appeared as if it would land just behind his knees. The pants were more tapered than he usually wore, a cut he had always wanted to try, but had never gotten around to.

He sighed and looked at the suit. It was gorgeous. He loved it.

He knew if he put it on, he’d have to entertain an entire ballroom of people who would be falling over themselves to dance with him.

Usually, that was his idea of a perfect night, but now he just didn’t know if he had it in him to leave his room.

Everyone Simon invited showed up.

They didn’t seem to mind the paper decorations or the band that Simon had found last minute to handle the music.

They were mingling amongst themselves, dancing, and enjoying themselves at the makeshift ball.

Winter adjusted his crown.

He knew he didn’t look the best. His hair was greasy and he had seen how bad his dark circles had gotten. His only hope was that no one would comment on his state of disrepair.

He entered the ballroom and was shocked to find Simon the center of attention, dancing with Old Lady Princess as a band of his citizens played out of tune.

He smiled and went to leave, happy with the knowledge that his partner was having a good time and had the event under control.

#teddy talks #theo's thoughts #winterkov #simon petrikov #the winter king #simon x winter king #simoncest #simonpetrikov #winter king x simon #winterking #dwu

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harlequin-hangout · 1 year

Text

For a Mortal Chapter 2

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist

< Part 1 | Part 3 >

Pairing: Dom!Loki x f!Reader

Warnings: Self esteem problems, self deprecation, ⚠️abuse (past, not from Loki)⚠️, minor breaking and entering

Contains: Angst, maybe a little fluff, brain not processing the literal god, descriptions of sensual fluffiness

Word Count: 2.2k

Dividers are made by me! Want some for yourself? Send me an ask!

I do not nor will I ever give permission for my writing to be copied, pasted, reposted to other sites, or edited in any way shape or form. Seriously, just don’t.

A/N: Chapter 2!! This was inspired by this ask by @michelleleewise. This is my first attempt at writing any kind of fan fiction, so please be kind. Thank you so much to @vbecker10 and @soubi001 for all the help with this chapter!! I'm so sorry that it took so long, inspiration hasn't been showing its face for this series.

You groan, hearing the all-too-familiar 10 am alarm blaring next to you. Why you had never turned off that damned alarm, you’d never know. It’s not like you had anything to do that day, but it wasn’t good for your mental health to stay in bed. Turning off the alarm, you stare at the ceiling. Did last night really happen? It couldn’t have . . . right? Magic, gods, teleportation . . . it couldn’t exist in real life. That was ridiculous. . . wasn’t it? You haul yourself out of bed, gingerly pressing the bathroom door open. Everything was just as you’d left it. Clothes were strewn all over the floor and a combination of makeup and sanitary products littered the counter. Notably though, where you remembered placing a pine scented green candle last night was only a few drops of green wax. You stare at the empty counter space, ignoring your phone when it starts to ring. How was it gone?? Did Loki take it back? How were you supposed to contact him again? You sigh and rub your eyes, already wanting to crawl back into your bed. Last night was definitely too good to be true. Your phone began to ring again, Caller ID showing your friend Sobhana – Soubi for short – on the screen.

“Mmmh . . . Morning . . .” you groan.

“Hey! Someone sounds like she had a long night,” Soubi teased.

“Something like that . . . Either that or I’m losing my mind. What’s up?”

“Val and I were gonna grab something to eat at that Thai place you like. Wanna come?”

“Thank you so much for thinking of me, Soubi, but I don’t have money to eat out. I’d love to see you guys though, would you want to come hang out later today?” You heard Soubi laugh a little on the other end of the line.

“Don’t use your customer service apology on me. Did I ask if you had money? I got you, we’ll meet you there at 11:30. Sound good?” Soubi stated, leaving no room for arguments. “You can repay me by filling me in on all the work drama. I swear, that boss of yours gets dumber every time you tell me about him.” You burst out laughing. She wasn’t wrong. Every time you talked to Darren Albright, the stories got more and more unbelievable.

“Deal, and this weekend I’ll make you and Val some of that baked mac and cheese. We can have movie night at my place.”

“Movies sound great! I’ll always brie up for them, even if you pick the ones that are pasta-tively cheesy.” You could practically hear Soubi’s grin as you groan at her awful puns. She had more puns ready for any situation than anyone you’d ever met, and you absolutely adored her for it. Plus, two can play at that game.

“I better get ready, or I’m Ghouda be late.” You poke back at her, only lasting a couple moments before dissolving into giggles. “Yeah, no, that was bad. Yours was so much better! I’ll see you at 11?”

“You’ll get on my level one day, see you then!” Soubi hung up with a click, and you were left to search your closet for something clean to wear.

You hadn't said much since you’d arrived at the restaurant. If Val and Soubi noticed, they hadn’t said anything so far. You mumbled your thanks as the waiter set the plate down in front of you, taking a deep breath before letting out a sigh.

“Y/N, you’re really quiet. That isn’t like you, what’s going on?” Val spoke up from across the table, concern in her eyes.

“It’s just . . .” You take another deep breath. “So, I might be going crazy. I had this . . . this dream, I guess? I dunno. I wouldn’t really call it a dream, it was so vivid, I could have sworn it was a memory, but I’m not sure what else to think.”

“Well, what’s going on?” Soubi inquires from your left. “If there’s something weird going on, you can always tell us.”

“Okay . . . Well it started after Darren called me last night.” You spent the next thirty minutes filling your friends in on the previous evening’s crazy adventure. From the candle to the shower, to the almost – almost – platonic domination. “He didn’t even push for sex! Like I said, it’s like he could watch my memories . . . he knew exactly what I liked, but also what to avoid in order to make sure I was comfortable.”

“Wait, after all of that you didn’t fuck him??” Val almost screamed, and you had to fight back a giggle when she realized that people were looking.

“No! We talked for a while, there was some gentle hair pulling while we made out, but he didn’t try anything unless he asked first or I initiated. I’m sure it would have been amazing if we had, though . . . I wonder what it would be like to fuck a guy who knows exactly what I want.”

“Sounds like an in-depth knowledge of sin and temptation are in your future and this god person is there to give a self guided tour.” Soubi’s comment almost made you blow soda out of your nose, and you take a few minutes to stop yourself from choking. Val was the first to regain control of her laughter.

“Soubi’s got a point though,” Val stated, wiping a tear from her eye. “He sounds too amazing to have been anything other than an imagination.”

“See, that’s what I thought at first, but there’s these little green droplets of wax where the candle used to be.”

“Used to be?” Val raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, no. That’s really weird.”

“I mean, that’s physical evidence. That definitely means SOMETHING was there.” Soubi’s eyebrows creased. She wasn’t ready to say it yet, but she was definitely getting worried. “Do you have any makeup that could have left it? You accidentally melted that lipstick while trying to fix a break in it a while back.”

“You have a point, but I’m absolutely certain. I don’t own any makeup that color, and it was the exact same green with the same pine scent lingering. I have absolutely no idea what else it could be. I think I may be going crazy . . .” Your gaze drops to the table. You really didn’t want to admit it, but there was no other explanation. Some kind of psychotic break was the only logical explanation.

“Crazy, nothing, I’m worried that someone has been in your apartment.” Soubi muttered under her breath. “If someone was in your place, that’s really dangerous. They could have laced your food with stuff, or even the candle somehow. A hallucination would explain the god man appearing in your bathroom.” You glance at Val out of the side of your eye.

“I mean . . . It’s totally possible, but we still love you. I think you’re fine though honestly, you’ve been going through a lot lately, especially with your crappy job. I’m sure your mind is just looking for a way to deal with it while you're sleeping. Maybe get some extra locks though?” You smile softly, grateful to have friends with your best interest at heart.

“Yeah, extra locks seem like an amazing idea. But speaking of my crappy job . . . I believe I promised Soubi an update. Darren called me yesterday to tell me that I haven’t been doing anything for the company.”

“What??” Soubi hissed. “Didn’t you build an entirely new backend to make intake smoother?”

“Yup.”

“And you do all the upkeep on it, right?”

“All by myself, I don’t know if he even knows how it works.” A wicked smile creeps across Val’s face.

“You should quit. It isn’t like he’s paying you anyway. Just quit and wait for him to come crawling back to you when he realizes how much you actually do.”

“As satisfying as that could be, he’s an Albright, he might make sure that I never work in the film industry again, and I’ve worked way too hard to get here.”

“Do you really think he’d do that?” Val inquired.

“Well . . . no, not really, but I also think that if I walk, I’m never getting my job back. I’ve worked so hard to get where I am, and if I step out of Darren’s company on terms like this, then I can’t use him as a reference. I’ll be back to square one . . .”

“Hey, look at me?” Soubi asks. “ You won’t be starting from square one. You’ll be starting from experience. I’ve seen you grow so much over the past year and a half, especially after you finally cut off contact with your ex. We’re going to support you no matter what.” You beam, taking a deep breath and feeling a moment of peace for the first time in the last couple months. Your life had become so hectic, but Val and Soubi had remained your constant. As long as you have your friends, you can get through whatever this curveball turns out to be.

Your laptop dings with the fifth email from Albright. Even though he accused you of not doing anything, you still seemed to be getting a lot put on your plate. You look over the new client application, grabbing your mug of hot chocolate from your side table. The application was for a new marketing client, and they were only asking for a basic social media consultation and re-do of their old logo. You sip your mug as you spend the next few hours going over the company site and social media, compiling a list of suggestions and replying to Darren’s email with your recommendations. By midnight, you had sorted through all the new clients and organized materials for the current client, plus re-worked part of your backend system to make finding client information easier. You stand, making your way to the kitchen. After depositing your empty mug in the sink, you grab a cup of water to take with you to bed. Today has been hard, but you won’t let it get the better of you.

The next two days passed without anything of note happening. Your days are mostly spent messaging the group chat with Soubi and Val (Soubi has nicknamed it My Taste in Buds a while back) and job applications. You needed income from somewhere, and Darren wasn’t cutting it. Coffee shops, restaurants, and even some retail stores had been checked off the list, but it was Saturday and you weren’t likely to hear anything back on the weekends. You close your laptop and head to the bathroom. A hot, steamy shower sounds like the most amazing thing right now.

The water pours over your skin and the steam fills your lungs. You’d finished washing ages ago, but it was nice to take a moment to breathe. In here, nothing could bother you. Not Darren, not bills, not unanswered job applications. You could stay in your little bubble and pretend for just one moment that everything was okay. You’d been able to sit with the events of your dream, and process. Val was right, this was probably your brain rationalizing. The human brain is such an amazing thing, it never stops working. It probably took spots of stuff on your counter and the amount of smut that you read and turned it into a coping mechanism while you slept. You had to admit, it had been nice. His slender fingers sliding through your hair. The gentle way he spoke. His voice had been both masculine and ethereal. Both commanding and comforting. The way he had spoken to you after he pulled you away from your shower . . . The softness wasn’t something you were used to. You barely knew the man – god, if he was to be believed – but he was more considerate of your wants and your needs than anyone you’d ever dated. Hell, most of the people who called you a friend didn’t seem to care. Outside of Val and Soubi, it seemed that most people kept you around because of things they thought that you could do for them. It made perfect sense that your brain would supply a tall, dark, and elegant man with a voice as smooth as velvet to help meet the needs in your life that were left unfulfilled. You spend a few more moments reminiscing on the dream, focusing on how his hands felt on your skin as his lips brushed yours, waiting for you to close the last breath of space between the two of you instead of just taking what he wanted. He was too good to be true, and almost definitely couldn’t exist outside of a dream. You toweled off, wrapping that towel around yourself before reaching to grab another for your hair. You pause, sniffing the towel. Something didn’t smell right . . . It wasn’t the towels, and it wasn’t the clothes you had piled on the floor . . . You grabbed the knife that you kept in your bedside table for protection and quietly made your way towards the living room and the front door. As you stepped out of the hallway, you stopped dead in your tracks. You recognized the scent, but what was it? You take stock of your apartment. Everything seems to be in place, the door is locked, the windows are closed . . . What could that smell be? Then it hits you. It’s leather. Leather and sandalwood. And sitting on the side table next to your laptop is a familiar green pine tree scented candle.

Tag List: @sititran @lokixryss @vbecker10 @vickie5446 @soubi001 @ozymdias

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hwxnghyynjin · 2 years

Text

Crazy Ex Boyfriend

Pairing: han jisung x reader, hyunjin x reader Genre: horror, angst, slight fluff Warnings: mention of abuse, manipulation, swearing, jisung is crazy, alcohol consumption, mention of speeding (don't speed kids), attempted murder Words: 2,647 Taglist: @alphadisaster @lee--felix @heeseongism

The moment you broke up with Jisung, you felt free. You could finally breathe without any worry in your mind. His behaviour and constant aggressiveness scared you, and you couldn’t take it anymore, deciding to break things off with him.

Jisung hated that you wanted to break up with him at first, trying to make you stay, playing the ‘victim card’, acting like you were the bad guy. You didn’t fall for his act, standing up to him and telling him to leave. In the end, he accepted that you two were over, walking out of your home and slammed the door shut.

You spent months focusing on yourself, not letting anything get in the way to distract you. You started going to the gym, bought yourself a whole new wardrobe, and spent a lot of time with your friends, which you couldn’t do when you were with Jisung.

It was around the 6 month mark of being single, and you started talking to someone. He was tall and handsome, his eye smile could light up an entire room. He laughed at literally anything, which you found cute. His name was Hyunjin, and you got on like a house on fire. You got into a relationship around a month later, and you never felt happier.

Unfortunately, Jisung found out you got into another relationship and to say he was pissed was an understatement.

The moment Jisung found out about your new boyfriend, he was livid. Only he was allowed to love you, no one else. No one would love you the same way he loved you. He couldn’t stand seeing you happy with anyone other than him. He’s gonna have to do something about that, even if it means getting his hands dirty.

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You were getting ready to go on a date with Hyunjin, fixing up your makeup and straightening out your dress. Putting your heels on, you walked down the stairs, seeing a text from Hyunjin that he’s on his way to pick you up.

Your phone suddenly started ringing and you answered it without looking at the caller ID, just assuming it was Hyunjin. “Hey”, you excitedly said into the phone, expecting Hyunjin to answer but when you heard the voice that didn’t belong to Hyunjin, you froze.

“Why are you in another relationship? Do you not love me anymore? I’m sorry for how I was, I’m a different person now”, Jisung said into the phone, pretending to be hurt that you’ve moved on from him.

“Jisung, we broke up over 7 months ago. You need to let me go”, you said, wanting to get it into his head that you’ve moved on and want nothing to do with him. But Jisung didn’t like that, scoffing into the phone.

“But y/n, I still love you. You know I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was going through a hard time when we were together. Baby, please. I can’t live without you”, Jisung said, and it sounded like he was crying. You saw through his act, sighing. Going through a hard time doesn’t give him the excuse to be aggressive towards you, mentally fucking you up and making you flinch every time he walks towards you.

“Jisung, just get it into your head that I don’t love you anymore. Now please, block my number and leave me the fuck alone”, you said and hung up, blocking his number, which you were sure you did months ago, but you were wrong.

You then got a message from Hyunjin, saying that he’s outside. You smiled as you grabbed your purse and keys, and left your house, locking the door behind you. You smiled at Hyunjin as you got into his car, kissing his cheek. The gesture made him shyly smile, not used to the affection. He drove off, music playing on the radio.

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You and Hyunjin were sitting opposite each other, laughing and drinking wine (well, Hyunjin wasn’t since he was driving) as you were waiting for your food. You were in a fancy restaurant, classical music playing in the background. You weren’t paying attention to the music though, you were too focused on Hyunjin to care about anything else.

Your food arrived a few minutes later, the waitress putting your plate in front of you. You looked down at your plate, seeing a juicy piece of steak on a bed of vegetables, with sauce in a gravy boat for you to drizzle over.

While you two were eating, Jisung was sitting in his car, staring out the window as he watched you and Hyunjin. He watched as you smiled at Hyunjin, chomping on your food. Every now and then, you sipped on your wine, swallowing the liquid.

He hated seeing you happy with someone else, it made his blood boil. He got out of his car, walking over to where Hyunjin’s car is. He took his keys, held it between his fingers and started dragging it across Hyunjin’s car. Hyunjin looked out of the window, seeing someone- Jisung- keying his car.

“Hey, what the fuck is he doing to my car?!” Hyunjin said as he slammed his cutlery down on the table. You looked out the window and your blood ran cold as you saw Jisung beside Hyunjin’s car.

Hyunjin got up out of his seat and ran out of the restaurant. You immediately followed after him, not wanting him to do anything stupid. “What the fuck are you doing to my car?! And who the hell are you?!” Hyunjin said, getting close to Jisung. You grabbed Hyunjin’s arm, stopping him from getting any closer.

“Hyunjin, don’t, he’s not worth it”, you said, staring at Jisung with horror. Hyunjin looked down at you and then back at Jisung. That’s when it clicked in his head. “I see you’re the ex who made y/n’s life hell”, Hyunjin said.

You walked towards Jisung, standing in front of him. “What are you doing here? Stop harassing me and just leave me alone. We’re over, why can’t you just accept that?!” you said, sounding really annoyed. You pushed him away slightly as he stood closer to you, not wanting him invading your personal space. Jisung didn’t like that you pushed him, and he slapped you.

You held your cheek, shock written all over your face. Jisung went from looking angry, to regretful, to sad. “I-i’m so sorry, I don’t know why I did that”, he said and started slapping himself, hitting his cheek over and over again. You grabbed his arm to stop him from hitting himself, and he looked down at you.

He didn’t hesitate to hug you, wrapping his arms around you. “I knew you still loved me”, he said and you tried pushing him off you. Luckily Hyunjin was strong enough to pull him off you, pushing him away. “Dude, get it into your thick head that she doesn’t love you anymore. Get your delusional ass away from here and fuck off”, Hyunjin said and grabbed your hand, going back into the restaurant.

Jisung stormed his way back to his car and got inside. He sat in his seat for a few moments, staring out the front window. He felt so angry, and started hitting the steering wheel, screaming at the top of his lungs. He sped all the way home, not caring that he’s going over the speed limit.

He slammed the door shut as soon as he entered his house, kicking his shoes off. He made his way to the kitchen, looked through the drawers and grabbed a knife. He aimed the knife at the dart board on the wall, throwing it. The blade hit the middle of the board and Jisung smirked.

“The next time I see you, Hyunjin, that’s what I’m going to do to you. Then y/n will be mine again”

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Over the next couple of weeks, Jisung has been harassing you non stop. Calling you every couple of minutes, showing up at your house and posting threatening messages through your door. You wanted to call the police but you were too scared to do it. You were even too scared to leave the house, worried that Jisung would follow you.

But you knew you had to leave the house though, you couldn’t keep yourself cooped up inside, worrying about the endless possibilities of what could happen. You decided to go to the shop to buy yourself some new skin care products, as well as some new underwear and shoes. Hey, if it makes you feel better then it worked, right?

You texted Hyunjin, telling him where you were and telling him you were ok. Whenever you left the house, you always made sure to text Hyunjin so he knew you were safe. It wasn’t like an ‘overprotective boyfriend’ situation, it was more of a ‘let me know you’re safe from your crazy ex boyfriend’ situation.

You headed towards your car, unlocking it with your keys. You put your bags in the boot of your car, closed it and got into your car. You drove away and headed back home. You were unaware that someone was following you, and that someone was Jisung.

You arrived home, parked your car in front of your house and got out. You grabbed your bags and headed inside, locking the door behind you. When Jisung was sure you were definitely not going to come back outside, he left his car and made his way towards your front door. He checked under the plant pot to see if the spare key was still there and it was. He picked it up and unlocked your door, being as quiet as possible.

He walked into your house and closed the door quietly. He looked around your home, noticing that it looked different. All the pictures of you and Jisung were gone, which were replaced with pieces of artwork. He looked at the pieces of art closely and he saw they were signed. They were painted by Hyunjin and Jisung was annoyed.

He walked further into the house, and headed towards the stairs. He quietly and carefully tiptoed up the stairs, not wanting to be heard. He reached the top, and walked towards your bedroom. Your bedroom door was shut slightly, and Jisung poked his head to see through the gap. You were trying on your new underwear, checking yourself out in the mirror.

You were about to take your bra off when you heard a noise. It sounded like heavy breathing and you froze. You turned around, looking at the door. “Who’s there?” you asked, putting your clothes on and walked towards the door.

You opened it and saw Jisung. Before you could scream, Jisung put his hand over your mouth, stopping you from making a noise. “Baby, don’t make a noise. You don’t want your neighbours calling the cops, do you?” he asked, taking his hand off your mouth slowly. You were scared shitless but you didn’t want to make Jisung angry to the point where he goes berserk.

“Why are you with that Hyunjin guy? You know he doesn’t actually love you, right? I’m the only person who loves you. No one can love you like I can. I swear I’m not a bad guy. I’ll go to therapy and get some help with my aggression, I promise. Please, come back to me”, he said to you, giving you the puppy dog eye look. He always did that to get his way, manipulating you to stay with him when you were still in a relationship.

“Jisung”, you started, and he smiled, thinking you were going back to him. “How many times do I have to tell you, we’re over and nothing, and I mean nothing, will make me go back to you”, you said, making him frown. He sighed and took a step back from you. “Well, I guess I tried”, he said and walked away from you, making you confused. He never used to give up so easily so, why did he decide to give up now? He was either coming to his senses, or he was up to something. You went with the latter so you didn’t let your guard down, going back to your bedroom and grabbed something to use as a weapon. You picked up a baseball bat, and walked out your bedroom.

You walked down the stairs, waiting for Jisung to pop out at any moment. You heard moving around in the kitchen, and walked towards the noise. You walked into the kitchen and saw Jisung holding a knife, which was dripping in blood. You saw that he hurt himself, and you dropped the baseball bat and grabbed a cloth, covering his arms with the cloth.

“What the fuck are you doing? Are you fucking crazy? Are you seriously trying to kill yourself?” you said, your voice filled with fear and horror. Jisung just looked at you smiling. His smile was soon replaced by a frown as he started crying. You just looked up at him, confused. His emotions changed so much, you were sure there was something up with him. “I’m sorry y/n, I just can’t live without you”, he cried, tears streaming down his face.

You didn’t know what to do at this point. You didn’t want to go back to him, but at the same time, you didn’t want him killing himself because of you. While you were deep in thought, you didn’t see Jisung’s smirk.

You sat him on a chair while you got the first aid kit, cleaning up the cuts on his arm, putting a bandage on his arms. You stood up once you were finished, putting the first aid kit away. Jisung stood up from his seat and walked up behind you, trapping you between him and the counter. “Jisung, please move”, you said, trying to get him to move but he wouldn’t budge. “No, not until you say you still love me”, he said, looking down at you.

“For fucks sake, I don’t love you anymore! I am in love with Hyunjin. I am sick of you, now please leave”, you said, pushing him away. You managed to get away and tried to run out of the kitchen. You didn’t get far though as Jisung grabbed your hair, yanking it, making you scream out of pain.

“You fucking bitch, you made the wrong choice by leaving me”, Jisung growled into your ear, gripping your neck with his other hand. You whimpered, scared for your life. Tears started streaming down your face as his nails dug into your skin, feeling blood trickle down your neck.

Suddenly, the front door slammed open and you heard shouting. “y/n!” the sound of Hyunjin’s voice made you scream for him, elbowing Jisung in the stomach and trying to run away but he pushed you to the ground, climbing on top of you as he pushed your face into the floor.

Hyunjin came running in, and saw you on the ground. “Get off her, you piece of shit”, he shouted and tried running forward but was stopped as police officers ran into the house. One of them ran into the kitchen and grabbed Jisung, getting him off you and handcuffing him. “You’re under arrest for harassment, assault, violence, trespassing, destruction of property and attempted murder”, the officer said and took Jisung away. The last thing you saw was him smirking before he was out of your sight.

Hyunjin helped you up and held you, holding your head while you cried into his chest. Jisung was finally out of your life for good. “Let’s go get you cleaned up and dressed, yeah? Then we can watch a film and forget about everything”, Hyunjin said before kissing you, rubbing the back of your neck. You fell asleep that night in Hyunjin’s arms, and you felt safe for once.

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