#The joy of being together once more would never fail to fill them with endless warmth and delight | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nctsworld · 3 years

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pedal to the metal

✩ jaemin x reader | mall au | arcade attendant!jaemin | fluff | 3.3k

SUMMARY ⇾ when the claw machine eats your money, jaemin, the cute arcade attendant, offers to play a game with you in lieu of a refund. little does he expect you to beat him. | based off of @mistymark’s nct mall employees post WARNINGS ⇾ fluff, bit of angst, jaemin is competitive, kissing in the epilogue RATING ⇾ teen+

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit!

Leaning over the glass counter filled with endless prizes, Jaemin holds out two large plushies, one in each of his hands.

“Pikachu or Spongebob?” He swivels his head to them individually before beaming down at the little girl in front of him.

With the alternating supervision of her parents, she’s been one of the recent regulars at the arcade and finally saved up enough tickets fo a decent prize, deciding to cash them in today. Her face lights up and targets in on one particular plushie, already inching towards it with open hands.

“Pikachu, Pikachu!” she squeals.

The worker’s smile deepens, “Great choice. Couldn’t have picked better myself.”

He laughs airily as she squeezes Pikachu like it’s the last thing she’ll ever love, bouncing up and down with joy. Today, the girl’s mom is with her and she holds her ecstatic daughter close to her leg, rubbing her arm warmly.

“So I guess I’ll see you two next week?” Jaemin asks.

“If she gets over Pikachu as fast as she did with Olaf, then probably yes,” the mom replies with a defeated head shake. “Thanks again, Jaemin. Say bye to the nice boy.”

“Bye, Jaemin!”

The mother and daughter wave good-bye with wide smiles, as did Jaemin. Giving prizes out and seeing the delightful reactions on the recipient’s face was one of the best parts of his job.

Oh, and so was being able to play all the arcade games for free.

For Jaemin, being the arcade attendant at the local mall was a dream come true. He was once in the same place as the little girl—always coming to the same arcade every day after school. Although he loved winning prizes (who doesn’t?), he also prided himself in being the best at every game, knowing all the secrets and strategies like the back of his hand. Dance Dance Revolution, Street Fighter, Beatmania, Time Crisis, Super Bike, Pac-Man… You name it, and Jaemin can wipe the floor with anybody. It’s why none of his friends liked to play the games with him, but they still had fun nonetheless.

“That girl is insane!” Chenle exclaims with a point of his thumb, strolling up to the counter. He’s one of Jaemin’s many friends and an everyday mall-goer. Jisung comes up next to him, also a friend and works at the mall’s McDonald’s. The mall was really a second home to them all.

Jisung bobs his head in disbelief. Then, he turns to face their worker friend.

“You’ve gotta admit she’s really good, right?”

The lanky figure cocks an eyebrow. “What are you guys talking about? I was busy giving out a prize to someone.”

The shortest individual of the three widens his eyes. “There was a girl who was just playing Super Bike. She kept kicking everyone’s ass, even us.”

Jisung nods fervently, “I was telling Chenle that she’s probably as good as you, maybe even better.”

Jaemin scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “No one can beat me at Super Bike, you both know that.”

“You haven’t seen her play, though…” Chenle sighs dreamily, perching his chin into his palms, as he drifts off into space and replays the gameplay in his mind.

“I don’t know, Jaemin,” Jisung shrugs. He absentmindedly fiddles with the bundle of tickets left by the little girl. “It’s about time someone beat you at one of the games.”

Suddenly, Jaemin snatches the tickets from his hands, startling the younger boy. Said younger boy glances up to meet a pair of slitted, burning eyes. In an instant, Jaemin’s eyes melt and a cocky expression flashes by.

“Like I always say, I never lose.”

He begins to count the tickets, but the thought of someone being better than him makes him lose track.

After he finishes counting the tickets, he casually checks-up on the motorcycle racing simulator to see what all the fuss was about. To his disappointment, he is met with a young boy, playing by himself.

Jaemin makes a mental note to keep an eye and ear out for this mystery Super Bike girl.

A few days pass. You’re at the mall by yourself to kill some time and to procrastinate on studying. You spent a while at the bookstore already, so you decide to do something a little more fun.

At the bustling arcade, you’re quickly drawn towards the claw machine with the mountain of plushies. You know the odds of winning are low, but one round couldn’t hurt. Placing your money into the claw machine, you begin to fiddle with the joystick. However, nothing’s moving.

Your face crinkles in confusion, so you add money again, thinking that maybe it was a one-time fluke. Nope, definitely not a fluke because the claw still doesn’t work. You’re now two dollars down and you didn’t even get the chance to play.

Walking around the arcade, you try to find a worker, but to no avail. You stand in front of the glass counter, waiting for an attendant. While waiting, you’re peering at all the variety of prizes to be won and wish you were skilled and patient enough to obtain such things. It’s no wonder why the claw machine drew you in, at least that game filled you with a false sense of a fast and easy win.

After finishing a supervising round in the arcade, Jaemin notices a girl at the front counter. Actually, scratch that, a stunning girl—one that he hasn’t seen in the arcade before. He’d definitely remember you if you had. The ends of his mouth stretch and he strides towards you with a wind of confidence.

“Hi, do you need help with something?”

Jolting slightly, you’re taken aback by both the handsome figure and the question. You saw him earlier at one of the games, but it never crossed your mind that such a young, attractive guy like that would be the resident arcade attendant. You subconsciously do a double take, eyeing him up and down, causing Jaemin’s grin to become more cheeky.

“Hi, yeah,” You point to where you were previously. “I was trying the claw machine and it took my money, but it didn’t let me play any rounds.”

“Oh?” He scrunches his face and heads toward the machine. You follow behind. “We just fixed it a few weeks ago, that’s weird.”

At the claw machine, Jaemin feels around the machine, checking on the knobs and buttons, and even places a coin into it to test out your claim. He tinkers with the joystick, and realizes you’re right; the machine’s only taking money without allowing any plays.

So he kicks it. Hard.

You break out into a chortle. “Does that actually help?”

“Always works like a charm.”

Another kick, and more chortling.

Jaemin shifts his head towards you and places a hand on his chest. His eyes waver, searching around him as if someone would be listening, and lowers his voice in a hush.

“I’m a secret machine whisperer, you gotta trust me,” he says with a small wink, and you trust him by standing back and resuming to observe him with a fluttering heart.

The attendant tries the machine with money once more, but the kicking evidently didn’t help. This only leads Jaemin to increase the intervals of his kicking. Soon, kicking evolves into desperately shaking the contraption.

Bemused and shaking your head, you comment, “I don’t think your whispering is working very well.”

He attempts one last time, but to nobody’s surprise, it fails. He tapes an out of order sign onto the glass. With hands on his hips, he exhales a lengthy sigh.

“Sorry for your lost money. I can give you a refund.”

“Aw, no. It’s okay, it was only a couple of bucks. I was more so looking forward to playing the game, really.”

A lightbulb goes off in Jaemin’s head.

“Did you wanna play a game with me to make up for it instead?”

Although he enunciates the question slowly, cautious of your reply and potential rejection, there’s a contrasting smug expression on his face. Your teeth tug at your bottom lip, about to answer, but then you pout.

“Aren’t you working right now though?”

Jaemin shrugs nonchalantly, “It’s kind of slow at the moment and I can argue that I’m maintaining the game.”

“Like what you were just doing with the claw machine?”

“Exactly.”

Both of you laugh in unison, gazes converging together. If only the strong sparks flying between you two could somehow fix the claw machine... but then again, you would’ve never had a reason to speak to the beautiful boy in the first place.

“Sure, what game did you have in mind?”

Tapping a finger on his chin, Jaemin runs the possibilities in his head. What’s a game that he can easily impress you with his skills, but is also equally fun for you to play?

“Super Bike?” he offers.

You nod with a small smile, “Okay, lead the way.”

Thankfully, as the two of you arrive at the game, no one’s currently playing. You jump onto the left motorcycle, while Jaemin gets onto the right. He enjoys how you cutely sway back and forth, accustoming yourself to the fake motorbike. He gives you a quick breakdown of the controls, and tells you to focus only on the gas and brake since he’ll choose automatic transmission to make things easier for you. You hum with puffed cheeks, ready to play.

Following Jaemin’s choices of the easiest map level and transmission settings, the race immediately starts.

Jaemin can play Super Bike in his sleep, so he starts off the first half of the lap with his eyes on his screen, then for the second half, he looks over at you for a few moments. You’re glued to your screen. The glint in your eyes sparkles with pure amusement and an edge of competitiveness. He breathes in the enticing sight, especially as you bite your lip with heightened focus.

But then, flashes of red flare upon your face. Jaemin’s heart knocks nervously at his chest because the flashes are coming from the sign above your screen with the words ”RACE LEADER”. He’s dragged straight into the match again, not wanting to lose.

“Have you played this before?” he shouts over the background noises and music.

“Only a few times,” you shrug lightly. Your eyebrows raise as Jaemin catches up, trailing almost nose to nose with the end of your motorcycle, yet the finish line is approaching fast. Narrowing your eyes, you accelerate and curve around the last bit of the map without struggle. Before you know it, you reach the finish line right before Jaemin does.

As the first place win radiates from your screen, you pump your arms in the air and remove yourself from the bike.

On the other hand, Jaemin’s gaze is stuck on the screen, jaw hanging. The big two taunts him with every flicker.

“Well, that was fun. Thanks for the game—”

You’re about to ask for his name, but his odd reaction catches you off-guard. You take a step closer to him until someone cries out:

“That’s Super Bike girl!”

Swinging your head towards the origin of the cry, you see a boy jog over with a wave of his index finger. Chenle’s voice breaks the arcade attendant out of his frozen state. Jaemin whips his head towards you, still on the motorbike.

“You’re Super Bike girl?!” he echoes, eyebrows knitted.

“I already have a nickname around here?” you giggle. “I only played this game once a few days ago.”

Chenle asks him, “Did Biker Girl beat you?”

Jaemin avoids the inquiry, darting his eyes and pressing his lips together tightly. The friend passes the question onto you with owl eyes, and you shyly nod.

“Oh, my God, and I missed it?!” He huffs in disappointment, but then recollects himself as he takes a few steps toward you.

“Are you free after seven to come back and play again? Our friends need to witness this. This is history in the making.”

Immediately, Jaemin shoots daggers into Chenle. The daggers definitely have profanities written all over. You catch a glimpse of Jaemin and can practically read every word.

“Uhm,” you lower your voice, despite the fact Jaemin can still hear you. “Your friend looks pretty pissed. I feel kinda bad to just come back to beat him in front of people.”

“Oh, don’t worry about feeling bad,” the attendant’s friend waves his hand carelessly. “He always makes us feel bad when he constantly brags about how he’s the best at every game in here.”

“Is that so?” You glance at the boy on the bike with a new perspective. You could definitely see this guy as cocky, but maybe he’s still sweet underneath the exterior. You also wouldn’t mind seeing him once more before you head home, and now you had a reason.

“Well, count me in. I’ll be back at seven on the dot.”

With a flutter of your fingers, you say your temporary good-byes to the pair of boys and head out of the arcade. Jaemin finally props himself off the motorbike, getting back to work.

Passing by Chenle, he half-jokingly seethes, “I hate you,” into his ear.

Without a care in the world, Chenle frantically messages their group chat to come by the mall later to witness the match of a lifetime.

“Hey, did I miss it?” Mark pants as he puts an arm around Jeno from behind.

“No, you got here right on time. Super Bike girl should be coming any time soon.”

On the backend of the motorbike, Jaemin sits at the edge of it, studying the modest crowd around the racing simulator. Along with Jisung and Chenle, several of Jaemin’s other close friends are here to cheer for his downfall. For those who aren’t there, his friends are equipped with their phones in hand, ready to record the monumental event.

Weaving through the crowd with mumbles of “Excuse me’s,” you reach your destination and appear in front of the arcade worker.

The rising buzz of the crowd fades from your ears and into the background within his presence. You melt at him looking so coolly, bending over the motorbike with folded arms, and give him a warm smile.

“Just because you’ve got a sweet smile, it doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you.”

You playfully drop your mouth as the people around “Ooooh” in harmony. Your tongue is pressed against your lower teeth as Jaemin spins himself to the front of the bike. You get onto your previous seat from hours ago, grasping onto the fake vehicle as if you owned it.

You watch Jaemin enter the settings in. He’s not underestimating you this time and he executes his promise of not going easy on you—the hardest map and manual transmission are chosen, signaling you to really bring your A-game for this round.

At first, the match is tight. You’re practically side by side on the map, even having the occasional opportunity to push him off track and vice-versa. Changing up techniques, as the second lap rings in, you switch transmission gears and ease on the brake for a brief moment, hugging the curve of the map.

With that move, the red light flashes above him. Jaemin believes, no, he knows he’s going to win. Sweet victory is on the tip of his tongue, he can taste it. Ten seconds are left on the clock, ten seconds left until he beats you and continues to reign king of the game.

But, you suddenly speed past him and the game’s over before he can properly process it.

The screams surrounding you engulf the entirety of the arcade.

Jaemin’s mouth is on the floor as he realizes he lost.

No, his mouth is six feet under because you’re currently entering a nickname into the all-time best rankings. You beat Jaemin’s time on the map, seizing the new first place rank for the game.

Everyone circles you in congratulations, but your eyes are honed in on one individual in the crowd. He hops off the bike, brushes past the crowd, and escapes to the counter, continuing his shift like nothing happened. Hastily, you go after him and find him crouching down behind the glass. He’s unpacking boxes filled with what you assume are prizes.

On your forearms, you lean over the glass counter. “Hey, when does your shift end?”

Your assumption is answered as you see him restock some of the plushies in the transparent container underneath you.

“Why do you want to know? So you can beat me again at another game?” he grumbles, the bitterness blatant in his voice. Nevertheless, you persist.

“‘Cause Super Bike girl wants to get to know the cute Arcade Boy she met today over dinner.”

He pauses and his eyebrows perk up at the words cute and dinner in the same sentence. His ego is still sore, but he’ll bite.

“Is it a date?” he presses further with a disinterested tone, continuing to move the items.

You drag your bottom lip up, drumming your fingers slowly against the glass.

“Only if you want it to be.”

Your words bandage his sore ego quickly, but he wants to bathe in his pity a little while longer. He twists his mouth, fighting against the urge to show you his teeth.

The boy stands up and leans over the counter too. He’s greeted by your strong aura, yet it doesn’t completely reach your eyes; your gaze is soft and gentle. “I get off at nine, so it’s pretty late.”

“That’s okay. I can play games until then—”

You peel yourself off from the glass and properly introduce yourself, holding your hand out. He glances at it for a second, then at your tender look. He gives in and can't help himself from grinning. The arcade attendant reaches for your hand and reciprocates the shake.

“I’m Jaemin.”

That day, Jaemin learned that losing at the arcade games wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

EPILOGUE

Clutching onto Jaemin’s waist underneath his leather jacket with your chin resting on his shoulder, you’re swaying side by side with him on the racing game that brought you two together. It’s his day off today, and both of you thought it’d be cute to spend some time at the arcade before the movie showing later that evening.

“Ease on the gas!” you dictate. He rolls his eyes at your backseat driving.

“No, it’s too early!” he protests and goes against your advice, accelerating further. When that makes him go off-road a bit, you sigh smugly while he groans meekly.

“See, and this is why I’m better at Super Bike than you,” you tease before pecking a kiss on his cheek. Tingles rise to his cheeks.

“Yeah, but I’ve played this game a lot longer than you.” It’s the second lap and he’s inching towards the finish line.

“Yeah, but who holds the record?”

After he speeds through it, the list of the best times roll onto the screen. Your nickname still stands proudly at number one from the day you asked him out on a date.

Jaemin smiles at the not-so far memory. He then twists and extends his neck over his shoulder, sharing a sweet kiss with you. Your grip around his waist tightens, your fingers sinking into his skin. His palm raises and cups your face, deepening the kiss.

Breaking away for a moment, he says, “Yeah, well, I’m the better kisser.”

You sweep your nose against his. “That’s up for debate…”

Your lips meet once more lovingly.

“Can you guys stop making out in the arcade again?” Jisung groans. “Kids are here, you know. Like me.”

Chenle cuts in, “I thought you were glad someone beat Jaemin for once.”

“I mean, yeah, but I didn’t expect the same person to have her tongue constantly down his throat!”

Still lip-locked, Jaemin and you smile into the next kisses from their remarks while Jisung and Chenle run off to play another game, far away from the new couple.

#jaemin #na jaemin #na jaemin x reader #jaemin scenarios #jaemin fluff #jaemin imagines #jaemin fanfic #jaemin x reader #nct #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream fanfic #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream #flash tw

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amyscascadingtabs · 3 years

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give you my wild, give you a child

"stupid numbers, think they’re so great. i'd love to see numbers give you a baby."

inspired by that one line in 8x08 renewal, because he really did give her a baby.

read on ao3

It's been three days and Amy can't stop crying.

Sometimes she thinks it's stopped, that she'll finally have a stable moment to talk to her husband or eat a meal in peace or facetime some of the twenty or so relatives on her list, but it feels like it’s never more than minutes before her emotions swim to surface again and something new brings out the vibrating sobs that have seemed to characterize this day. As it turns out, even newly pregnant Amy has got nothing on three days postpartum Amy.

That she cries about the big, life-changing things doesn’t surprise her. When she wakes up after a night of minimal sleep and sees Mac in the bedside crib next to her, she cries because she’s so grateful; that everything went well, that their baby is finally here and that he's perfect beyond words. Then she cries because she thinks about what could have happened if it hadn't gone well, because she gave birth in a makeshift birthing suite in a police precinct, and so many things could have gone wrong it’s a miracle nothing did. When she gets out of the shower, she cries seeing herself in the bathroom mirror, because she's proud of her body in a way she's never experienced before. Then she cries because she also barely recognizes the person staring back at her, still looking six months pregnant except with hospital underwear and nursing pads in her bra. When she has breakfast after feeding Mac and tries to read the newspaper, she cries because so many terrible things are happening in the world all the time, and she doesn’t know how she’s going to protect this child from a world that sometimes seems to be getting more and more cruel by the day. Then she cries out of guilt for feeling that way, because she’s supposed to be enjoying this baby bubble, and what kind of mother even is she for daring to think about anything but her baby right now?

As the day goes on, however, her reasons for crying begin to feel increasingly ridiculous. She cries because she’s so relieved to be drinking regular coffee again, then because it doesn’t taste the same as decaf and she’s gotten so used to it that the caffeine tastes weird now. She cries because the coffee goes cold anyway when Mac begins to whimper and suck on his fingers in the way he seems to do whenever he’s hungry and she has to drop everything to feed him another time. She cries when Jake turns on the television and a commercial for diapers comes on, because she can’t believe they get to buy them now. Then she cries when Mac has finished eating because the red flannel she borrowed slash stole from Jake won’t button properly, and she realizes one of the buttons has gone in the wrong hole and she has to redo the whole thing. When Jake offers to help her with it, that makes her cry too, because the way he’s not laughing at her right now but patiently trying to solve her problems is making her feel so loved she doesn't know how to thank him.

The thing that makes her cry most of all, though, is watching Jake and Mac together. She always knew that sight would drive her crazy, and it’s part of the reason she wanted to have kids with him so much in the first place, but not even in her most indulgent fantasies about their future could she have pictured this. As grateful as she is over the fact that she gets to be a mom, getting to see Jake be a dad is a close second. He loves their son so much, and Mac so clearly loves him too, and Amy has to remind herself of the nine months she's spent carrying this child by herself in order not to feel jealous when Mac stops fussing the moment Jake picks him up. He looks so tiny when Jake holds him, the back of his head fitting perfectly in Jake's palm, and the care with which he’s handling him keeps making her emotional. He's always talking to him, sometimes whispers she can't hear and sometimes praise for her which she can, and that makes her cry too. He even chats to him when he changes his diapers, which Amy hides behind the door frame just so she can hear, failing to stifle a giggle when he asks in a fake interrogation voice what Mac has to say to his defense for making such a mess. He wakes up with her in the middle of the night when she has to breastfeed to get her endless glasses of water and granola bars when it makes her feel starving, and then he lets Mac burp him in the face and spit up on the back of his shirt before he falls back asleep curled up on his chest. He leans his chin on the top of Mac’s head to smell that perfect baby scent, running his finger over those cute neck rolls, and the smile on his face when he looks back at Amy makes her completely lose it, because this is what she dreamed of all along.

This is what she imagined when they visited her brother Christian’s new baby shortly before they got married and Jake spent the better part of an hour making funny faces to the child in his arms. This is what she panicked over when he said he wasn't sure if he wanted kids, because she had always thought. This is what she thought of those nights after another timed round of unenthusiastic sex, trying to keep the hope alight until that single line would once more tell them not this time. She had felt it in his teary smile when she showed him that first positive test, in how hard he'd squeezed her hand at their first ultrasound when their baby’s heartbeat had filled the room, in the absolute joy on his face the first time he’d managed to put his hand on her stomach just in time to feel their son kick, and now it's right in front of her and almost too much for her heart to take.

She's so tired, and she's sore and overwhelmed and worried about a billion different things, but she's never felt so grateful.

That's what makes her cry floods at three a.m. when Mac seems to have finished eating and she comes back from the bathroom to find Jake still sitting up with him in bed, holding him with a hypnotised look on his face. He doesn’t even seem tired, even though he must be, is just looking at his son like he’s holding the entire world in his arms and doesn’t ever want to let go. She always knew seeing him with a baby would be incredible, those surprisingly toned biceps curling around a fragile little human and those heart eyes focused on one thing only, but maybe she hadn’t expected not being able to watch it without breaking into tears.

“Jeez, Ames,” he says when he looks up, the expression on his face changing to one of concern. “Are you okay? Honestly?”

“Yeah,” she sniffles and dries her eyes again as she sits down on the bed. The skin on her cheeks is stinging at this point. “I just can’t believe this is my life.”

“Why not?” Mac’s pacifier glides out of his mouth, and Jake puts it back with two fingers before he can notice anything. “We’re right here, babe. We’re very much real.”

“Sometimes I thought it was never going to happen.” She hiccups. “All the times we’ve been apart. The months we fought to have him. How freaking long and exhausting being pregnant was. And now I have him, and you, and I’m just so grateful I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“That’s why you’re crying?”

“I think I don’t even know why I’m crying anymore. I’m so sleep-deprived.”

“Yeah.” Jake smirks. “But I get it. I’m really, really grateful too.”

Mac makes a short gurgling sound that Amy takes to mean he agrees. She reaches out so his hand can wrap around her ring finger, feeling him squeezing it tight in the cutest grip. The grey striped pajamas has little mittens on it to keep him from scratching herself, but Mac gets upset whenever they pull them down, so Amy figures they'll just have to keep filing his nails instead. Their son is already both opinionated and stubborn, and she loves it about him, because she loves everything about who he is. He's perfect, and he's hers, and she still can't quite believe it even though he's right there in Jake's arms. It's all her dreams coming true, and it's making all the hard things feel so worth it.

“Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for giving me a baby,” she whispers. She’s too tired, barely even knows what she's saying anymore, but looking at the two of them, all she can think about is how incredibly lucky and thankful she feels.

Jake blinks in disbelief, grinning at her. “Wait, I gotta make sure I heard this right. Did you just thank me for giving you a baby?”

“Uh-huh?”

“And you're serious about this?”

“Well… yeah.”

“So you mean after nine months,” he says, still wide-eyed, “of you telling me, minimum a couple times a week but pretty much daily toward the end, that I could never understand what you're going through, and then you shouting some lovely descriptions at me whilst you were literally pushing him out, and also earlier this evening when you cried because I can't breastfeed him for you – you’re thanking me?”

“Some of it was a team effort,” she insists. “You helped.”

“Oh yeah, my nards sure are loving the credit.”

“Don't be gross.”

“Sorry.” He smiles, a little bashfully, stroking his fingers back and forth over Mac’s forehead instead of looking at her. “But Ames, c’mon. It was a pretty limited effort compared to what you did.”

“Maybe they’re not the same thing.” She leans her head on his shoulder. Mac is still holding on to her finger, but his grip is getting looser now. “But you were part of it too, babe.”

“Really?” He’s blushing. “What did I do that was so special?”

“Let's see. You didn’t laugh at me when I kept crying at everything the first weeks. Rosa made fun of me on a daily basis, but you just hugged me and told me everything was going to be okay. You let me sleep in when I had days off, even though I pretended I wanted you to wake me up. You fixed food for me without telling me what it was, and put it in front of me before I could feel sick thinking about it.” She shakes her head at the memory of those, few but complicated, weeks, and how hard they’d had to work around it. “You kept telling me I looked great even when my body kept changing and it all felt weird, and helped me pick out maternity wear when I didn’t want to do it on my own. I don’t know that I would have taken barely any bump pictures if you hadn't made me. You listened to all my research about the best strollers and pacifiers and cribs, and you did those courses and read all those books with me, and you came to almost every scan and held my hand so tight every time. You came home with onesies and hats because you thought they were too cute not to buy, and you gave me massages whenever I wanted them, and you even slept on the couch a couple nights at the end when I got angry at you for snoring. You barely even complained about it.”

“I complained a little,” Jake mumbles. “When you couldn’t hear me.”

“Fine. And lastly, you rode a horse through the city to get to me while I was in labor, and you didn’t even act like seeing him be born was gross.”

“I mean, it was a little bit gross.” Jake lifts Mac so he can kiss his forehead when he whimpers. “No offense, bud. I mean you looked perfect, I didn’t think you looked like a slimy alien even for a second, didn’t cross my mind, et cetera.”

“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “Point is, babe, you were there. You're here now. I know I did the actual work, but you were the one who made sure I could. I don’t know how I would have made it through without you. So… thank you.”

He doesn't give her any witty comebacks for that, only a shy smile.

“I love you,” Amy all but whispers through the tears that fight their way through her determination to keep them in. “Both of you. So much.”

“Love you, Ames.”

She kisses him, putting her hands on each side of his thighs so she can reach over Mac. Kissing is a lot more complicated than usual when both his hands are busy and none of them wants to risk crushing their son, but it's still nice, feeling his soft lips on hers and squeezing his lower lip between both of hers for just a moment before pulling apart.

“It's hard to kiss you while you're holding a baby,” she says, and Jake grimaces. “That might be the only bad thing about it.”

“My bad. I’m just going to put him down so we can make out all night.”

“Don't you dare. He currently doesn't have a boob in his mouth and he's still not crying, you're not doing anything to risk that now.” Amy pulls the comforter up to her chin. “Wake me up when he needs to eat again and not a second earlier.”

Jake chuckles at her as she turns out the light and snuggles up close to him, but he makes no move to put Mac down or even protest, and she didn't think it was possible to love him even more. Her heart has definitely grown with becoming a mom, much like everyone told her about, but most seem to have forgotten to prepare her for how much it would also grow when it came to her partner.

“I still think I’m the one who should say thank you,” Jake whispers just as she closes her eyes, and Amy can't help but smile. “If we're talking about who gave who a baby.”

“Jake, just accept the praise.”

“Oh, yeah.” She doesn't need to see his face to know that he's grinning. “I’ve locked it in a little box in my brain and I’m gonna keep it as gloat material forever, bringing it up when you least expect it.”

“That's great, babe.”

“Mm-hmm. We both know the truth, though.” Jake's left hand strokes over the top of her head, and Amy has to look up to see that Mac is still resting safely on his right arm and doesn't seem to have noticed a thing. Another tear fight its way down her cheek at the thought of how safe he must feel with him. This time, she doesn’t even bother to wipe it away.

#my writing #b99 #brooklyn nine-nine #peraltiago #jake x amy #b99 fic #b99 fanfiction #no eps this week but i finally finished this haha!#pls enjoy <3 #also thank u niamh and ajit for helps with all the reasons amy would be crying!!!#oh also the three people who voted on the title thank you

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writefandoms · 3 years

Text

The Outfit

Levi x Female!Reader

Summary: You buy Levi a new outfit to wear during sexy times🥴 (NSFW, blowjobs)

Word Count: 2.1k

“What was that?”

The short captain scowled at your cocky expression, embarrassment mixing with anger in eyes.

“You heard me, dumbass.” Not being able to hold eye contact, his steel orbs wander to the wall beside him.

Being on Levi’s squad had a lot of advantages, it was well known that the Great Captain Levi chose only the best of the best for his team. So many cadets and new recruits looked up to you because of your skills. On top of that you were one of the only women on his squad, besides Petra. You couldn't help but feel pride when young girls would say you were their inspiration.

But that’s besides the point, your skill was enough to catch the might Captain’s eye. And after late nights of drinking and occasionally crying, you built a good relationship with the shorty. A relationship that turned into something less pure.

Now, the usually stoic and cold captain, is standing before you looking like a nervous teenager confessing his love to his crush.

“Sorry couldn’t hear you, Captain. Could you repeat that please?” The glint in your eyes didn’t match your innocent tone.

As much as he scoffs and glares, Levi loves this part of you. He sucked his teeth before staring straight at you, “I’ll wear the stupid dress.”

You knew what he was going to say, but making him say it himself only added to the satisfaction of cracking his armor.

“Oh? Why did you change your mind?” He obviously didn’t like the teasing because he swiftly turned around and stomped away, you could hear him muttering under his breath.

“I’ll see you later, Captain,” You call out to his fleeting form.

The clock ticked loudly throughout your empty room. Time always moved so slowly when you had to wait. Sitting in a sofa chair besides your bed, your boot taps against the wood floor. He was a clean freak, so he was definitely showering or something after such a long day.

It wasn’t much longer until you heard three light taps on your door, making you shake with anticipation.

Taking a deep breath you called for them to enter, trying to hide your excitement but probably failing horribly.

Your beloved Captain walks in, shutting the door behind him. “Let’s get this over with.”

Smirking at his poor attempt at seeming bored you retort, “As I recall, you’re the one who said they wanted to do this.” Leaning back in your chair you cross your legs, “If you don’t want this then leave, you know I would never force you into anything you don’t want.”

Levi knew what you were doing, while you loved riling him up, consent was key in any healthy relationship. Ticking filled the room once again as Levi stayed glued to his spot by the door.

“Good. Lock the door.” A small clicking of the door locking followed quickly. He remained at the door awaiting further instruction.

“Back of the bottom drawer.” You pointed towards your dresser, watching as his small form moved swiftly across your room.

He crouched and opened the drawer, “Do you just throw your clothes in here?” he complains.

“Just keep looking.” You roll your eyes as he grumbles as he probably fights the urge to re-fold all your clothes.

You knew he found what he was looking for when he went completely silent. Standing up once again, this time with a black and white clump of fabric in his hand. He pinches a shoulder in each hand and lets the ruffled dress unravel.

He scans the outfit for a moment. It’s adorable in your opinion, him and the maid outfit. You were shopping with your squad mates when you saw the dress.

A black dress with a white trim that connects with a short black skirt, a white apron tied around the waist, and a pair of thigh high white socks. There were cute little black bows on the sleeves.

You couldn’t stop the dirty thoughts from attacking your brain and crotch, imagining Levi wearing such a sexy outfit. Not wanting to chance someone else taking it, you purchased it right then, jokingly bringing it up to Levi a couple days ago. But it seems that seed only grew in the Captain's dirty mind.

“You like it?” Now standing behind him peering over his shoulder, worrying that he might not like the style.

“It’s not wrinkled like all your other clothes.” That’s a yes, you grin.

Pressing your chest against his back, your arms wrap around his waist. “You’re gonna look so perfect.” He shutters as you kiss a trail down his neck.

“Now go get dressed.” Pulling away he looks at you with a dazed look on his face, only nodding and walking to your personal bathroom.

Once the door fully shut you let out a small squeal of joy, unable to contain yourself any longer. Nothing is more attractive than a man who isn’t consumed by his own pride. Of course a man can be masculine, live your life however you want, but when it becomes the end all be all then it’s an issue.

Being comfortable with your body is an attractive quality, one that Levi most certainly doesn’t lack. This fact is only solidified when he exits the bathroom, maid outfit wrapped snugly around his form.

His normally small waist was more apparent with the apron tied around him, his hips appeared larger due to the flare of the black skirt. Underneath the skirt revealed his smooth pale thighs. That soft skin on both sides of your head, gently squeezing you as you worked him to the edge with your mouth. That’s a feeling you're all too familiar with.

Unfortunately, the remainder of his legs are covered by a thin white material. Disappointment quickly fades as you take in the white stockings on his slender legs, somehow the extra piece of cloth made the outfit feel more lewd.

“My eyes are up here,” he snaps at you as your eyes begin to linger to unholy places, “Stop looking at me like I’m a piece of meat.”

“Aw, but you look so beautiful it’s hard not to stare.” His cheeks turn pink at your compliment, but doesn’t respond.

“I gave you a compliment,” you place a finger under his chin tilting his head back, giving him a faux look of sadness. “So what do you say?”

His eyes widen at the authoritative tone in your voice, legs unconsciously squeezing together. “T-thank you…”

Hearing Levi stutter is a rarity that blesses you more than anyone in the Survey Corps. He is clearly struggling to maintain his composure.

You’ve only touched his chin and he’s already turning red and pulling his skirt to hide his growing bulge.

“Of course,” pulling your hand away, you swear he chases after your touch before controlling himself and remaining still. “Now I have a few ideas about how we can spend the night.” You sit back on your sofa chair, motioning for him to approach you.

He takes a few steps until his legs are touching yours. Spreading your legs, pulling him closer, his knees bump into the front of your chair. Hands gripping his elbows slowly sliding down to hold his hands.

Leaning forward, you rest your chin against his chest peering up at him. Due to his short stature, he’s only about a foot taller than you, when you’re sitting down. Pupils blown out, pink cheeks, and racing pulse. All telltale signs of your captains excitement.

“You’re beautiful.” Silver eyes widen a touch, clearly not expecting the praise. Quickly masking his surprise, he rolls his eyes and scoffs.

Chuckling slightly at the man's childish behavior, you release one of his hands. Fingers dancing along the front of his dress, the light touches making him press his lips together to prevent any sounds from escaping.

“So sensitive tonight, Levi.” Before he can retort, your fingers pinch his right nipple.

He arches into you, a small gasp followed by a low moan as you twist the hardening bead between your fingers.

“And so cute.”

“Shut… Aah… up.”

“Let’s take this to the bed, yeah?” He pulls away and goes to sit on your bed. You take a moment to take off your boots, knowing he’ll throw a fit if he sees you wearing shoes in bed.

Levi’s sitting at the foot of the bed, with his legs dangling over the side. Such an innocent position gives you the nastiest idea.

Rounding the bed, you sit on your knees on the ground in front of him.

“What the hell are you doing? You know how filthy that floor is?” His endless questions are silenced when you place a hand on his knee, slowly moving upwards.

“I thought I’d give you a little appetizer before we got to the main course.” Grinning widely you place your other hand on his other thigh, “Well I guess I’ll be the only one eating.”

“Such a shitty joke…” You lift up the front of his skirt, only to find he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. A very welcomed surprise.

“Boxers would have looked weird.” He’s looking off to the side, clearly sensing your next question.

For someone who seemed so against the idea, he was actually worried about ruining the aesthetic?

But you keep your teasing to yourself, not wanting to make him stomp off. You let his skirt fall back over his thighs.

Leaning forward, he shudders at the gentle trail of kisses as your lips travel up his stocking clad knees. Moving higher with each kiss, closer to the exposed skin of his thigh. Kisses turn into love bites, leaving a trail of crescent indentions and saliva along the inside of his thigh.

It only takes a few touches and his dick is already straining against the ruffled material. Instead of holding the skirt up, you opt to just throw it over your head, hiding your face from Levis' line of vision.

“Hey- Ah!” Your fingers wrap around his cock, giving it a slow jerk. Already drops of precum leak from it’s reddened tip.

“Ahh!” He moans above you, sounds slightly muffled from the layers of clothing above you.

Speeding up your jerking, you lean closer towards his dick and give it a few licks. All the way up the shaft, reveling in the slight quivers of his thighs. Parting your lips you take in the tip, giving it a light suck. Levi lets out a loud groan above you, his hand now on the top of your head.

His noises only encourage you to move your head faster, taking him deeper in your mouth. Obscene noises fill your ears and mix with his moans of pleasure.

Swirling your tongue around his tip, the salty precum hits the back of your throat the more you suck. His thighs spasm, squeezing tightly around your head. An obvious sign that he won’t last another minute.

Pulling him out of your mouth with a wet pop, you push the skirt off from over your head.

“It was so hot down there-” You cut yourself off once you caught sight of his expression.

His face was beyond hot. He looked absolutely fucked.

A thin layer of sweat covered his face, redness across his cheeks and ears, and a trail of drool trailing down his chin.

Although you just had his dick in your mouth, the look on his face is what makes you clench your thighs together. A familiar wetness building between your legs.

Standing up so quickly, you got a bit of a head rush. Levi jumps at your sudden movement, looking up at your hungry gaze. He bends his knees and pushes himself backwards up the bed. You follow after him, crawling on your knees towards him.

“I can’t wait to fucking destroy you.” You can see him visibly shiver at your dominant tone.

“Then hurry up…” He demands, a slight tremble in his voice.

Oh god. This man will be the death of me.

Pressing a palm against his chest, you push him down to lay against the pillows.

“Relax, baby.” The small resistance he meets you with melts at your words, “Let me take care of you.”

Laying flat on your stomach, you move his legs so they’re bent over your shoulders.

“Comfortable?” He shifts his hips down a bit before nodding. “Good. Remember two taps to stop.”

The heels of his feet dig into your back, pulling you closer to his torso. A silent plea to shut up and make him forget all his worries.

“Okay, okay!” So pushy, shorty.” He glares but says nothing, as you lift the front of the skirt.

“Now be a good Captain, and keep your voice down.” He grunts as you take the leaking tip into your mouth, giving a gentle suck.

Pulling away with a ‘pop’, fingers wrapping around his shaft jerking at a quick pace.

“We don’t wanna wake our comrades, do we?”

I hope this 2k word self-indulgent fanfic of Levi in a maid outfit makes up for my month absence☺️ Please tell me what y’all think❤️

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x female reader #attack on titan #levi x reader #snk levi #aot #aot imagines #snk season 4 #levi maid #levi smut #smut #nsft

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jostepherjoestar · 3 years

Note

Ah I was sitting on this idea while waiting for requests to open! I loved your ask that had La Squadra meeting Risottos daughter from the future that got me thinking what if La Squadra had a memey s/o from present time? Would they ask lotta questions about the future and get confused when they speak in vine or tiktok references? 😆

La Squadra with a meme-y s/o from the future

gn reader // sfw

ahh that was such a cute ask and glad it made you think of this idea! thank your for requesting this and omg so so so so sorry it took so long, hope you’ll still enjoy it none the less! 💖✨ (you and your LS bf have a good comprehension of each other’s timelines and are used to traveling back and forth a bit :D)

Risotto

He knows the complications are endless and at times it all seems incomprehensible- having an s/o who can literally time travel; but your sheer knowledge of memes and the way you seem to effortlessly drop them into everyday conversation is astounding to him.

He doesn’t understand them that well, no amount of context or explaining will help. It’s simply a language he does not understand that well. And the memes or slang he kind of does understand, he just doesn’t find that funny.

However, he will never actually find it a bother when you drop a few weird jokes. The way they make you laugh and sometimes even dry-heave from the hilarity makes him love you even more.

In moments like that he’ll dryly let out a few slang words he remembers. You will never forget the time he let out a serious and deep “yeet” when you were already hysterically laughing, his addition might have made you stop breathing for a minute. It still makes you grin when you remember him shaking your shoulders and telling you to “breathe dammit!!”

Overall this man does not really get it or find it that entertaining himself, but he’ll gladly tease you and make you smile with the stuff he picks up. Risotto just can’t stop staring at your beaming grin.

Formaggio

Although he doesn’t truly grasp the layers of certain jokes or memes, Formaggio is your man! He’ll start using jokes and memes he learned from you and is so pleased when he makes you laugh with them.

Formaggio is great at continuing a bit but once he loses interest he just...stops. Which is kind of perfect since your knowledge of vines is a lot bigger than those of tiktoks so those quick six seconds are easy to get the point across.

He’ll still get some stuff wrong but he gets the gist of them. He loves annoying his teammates with his newfound references and they all can’t stand him. The second he opens his mouth with that smug look in his eyes, they all sigh in unison and prepare for the incomprehensible babbling that’s about to commence.

The rest of the gang likes you but when you and Formaggio are hanging out at headquarters together, they tend to keep conversations quick because they know once you two team up, the suffering will never end.

“Babe, wake up! New meme just dropped!”

You two are a menace to deal with but god if it isn’t sickeningly cute and funny when he calls you his baby, his cinnamon apple!

Illuso

Don’t get Illuso wrong, he loves you but dear heavens you are on thin ice with him. He isn’t the most joke-y type, he likes a good chuckle but please do not oversaturate him with references he does not get.

He has little to no interest in the videos you wish to show him and even less interest in remembering the ones he begrudgingly watched.

At this point you’re allowed a couple jokes a day, he doesn’t count or literally prevent you from saying them, but you know each other well enough to see when he’s actually getting annoyed.

To shut you up he’ll try and fluster you! He’ll look into your eyes so intensely as you continue talking about a meme, one eyebrow cocked and one side of his beautiful lips curled up into a smug grin.

He’ll place a single hand on your cheek, his thumb gently swiping across it while the rest of his large hand and fingers rest on your scalp. As he hears you stumble over your words and can feel your cheeks heating up he’ll get in nice and close to your lips. Ghosting his over yours and placing a single kiss that you wish would last longer. That’ll keep you quiet for a bit 😌

He accidentally (re-)invents “that’s cringe” without your help. (he’s referring to you, sorry bestie)

Prosciutto

Why are you saying these weird words AT him? Why must you crease his brows even further?

Prosciutto’s patience is getting tested with you and your innate need for adding incomprehensible colourful commentary to everyday things and situations. He truly doesn’t get it and there is no amount of explaining you can do to change his mind. Even after the memes make even a little sense, he won’t find them funny.

He does love you, so much in fact, that he knows asking you to stop isn’t going to work and it wouldn’t be a fair thing to do. He sees how your smirk feeds into the satisfaction of landing a joke in your present time where most of your friends know what you’re talking about.

However when you come around his part of the space time continuum, playtime is over. Well mostly. He does enjoy being a bit goofy around you, his snarky comments get a sarcastic edge that parallels your need for adding a fun flair to mundane things.

The only time you made him laugh with a meme was when you kept repeating “i can’t believe you’ve done this” over and over while poking his cheeks during a playful mood. After a final poke, Prosciutto’s resolve finally breaking, he couldn’t help but snicker. With one final addition of the line, ever surprised by the wonderful sound he makes when he finally breaks, you stop and stare. Enamoured by your wonderful boyfriend and his gorgeous smile.

Pesci

He’s the most supportive partner out there! Anything that makes you laugh and giggle, like the memes you keep showing him, fills his mushy heart with joy.

Pesci will kind of get them? They all make sense in a way, but some of them just go above his head because of the layers of internet knowledge he does not possess. Although he really loves it when you show him stuff that reminded you of him.

🥺🥺🥺🥺 <-- his face the entire day after you show him cute pictures of animals and said they made you think of him. He’s just so in sickeningly smitten with you.

He’ll try out a couple of internet slang terms and blush really badly when they make you laugh. If Pesci could, he’d play your laughter on loop 24/7. Him baby, ok?

When the whole internet was debating their existence and that of every object because everything is cake, you quizzed Pesci on his cake-recognizing skills. He failed horribly, they all looked way too realistic and he might have had a small existential crisis.

You playfully bit his wrist to show he wasn’t made of cake, planting some kisses along the sensitive spot. He shivered at your tickling pecks, relieved he wasn’t just a tasty confection and even happier that you’d love him regardless.

Melone

Your meme comrade.

The first mistake was showing him what the internet was like in your future timeline. He got so invested in its machinations and the entire culture surrounding it. He studied every single social media outlet. Every niche he could find only fuelling his curiosity.

Pandora’s box has been opened and there is no turning back now. Not only does he get all the memes and vines you show him, he memorized them too. Melone will artfully display his knowledge in daily life when you’re around and show off.

Do you regret showing him? Maybe...but is it hilarious to hear him quote terribly long copy/pastas? Yes. Yes it is.

He will steal your phone so he can feed into his meme needs, saving the most fried up images that barely make any sense, to your gallery. You sorted the ones he saves into a special folder so you wouldn’t have to strain your eyes so much.

It’s all fun and games until he starts referencing stuff during more intimate times. At first they made you laugh but as time went on you had to ask him to stop.

Hearing Melone whisper “eeby deeby” while kissing his way down your neck might not be the mood you’d preferred. (hearing him sigh and say “so, no head?” was pretty hilarious tho)

Ghiaccio

To your surprise, once he understands the memes and gets the references, he becomes quite good at using them as well. Steering clear of the misspelled ones, of course. (one bad gloop might actually kill him)

Ghiaccio is such a big softie once he’s alone with you, letting his guard down and finally calm, not irked or stressed by his surroundings.

He loves it when you show him new weird pictures you saved because they made you think of him. You don’t allow him to have a smartphone no matter how much he wants it (it’ll mess up sensitive time stuff) so when you’re scrolling through your preferred meme gathering app with Ghiaccio alongside you, he’ll point out ones and snicker a “that’s you”.

It makes your heart melt how cute he can be with the stuff he picks out. Once he actually said “you’re baby” and you felt your soul leave your precious body as his cheeks turned redder than plush tomatoes in summertime.

When he’s around the rest of the squad or in a more public setting, the usual stressors return. But with you around to offer quick witty jokes, things tend to become less focused on irritation.

You are 100% sure you’ve heard him yell the famous words “AM I WRONG?!” during a heated argument with Melone. You had to leave the room to prevent worsening things, holding in your laughter and silently dying as you heard him rave on.

#cozy ask #jjba x reader #la squadra x reader #jjba headcanons #risotto x reader #formaggio x reader #illuso x reader #prosciutto x reader #pesci x reader #melone x reader #ghiaccio x reader #jjba imagines #la squadra headcanons #jojo's bizarre adventure #sfw #gn reader #thank you for your patience guys #it means a lot

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amindofstone · 3 years

Text

in his arms

a/n: I AM IN LOVE WITH JUJUTSU KAISEN!!!! It´s so good and my bby Yuuji has my whole heart! He needs to be loved and protected at all cost. Megumi needs to be loved too and Nobara has to be praised. That girl is a BADASS!!! I love her! This trio is wholesome and their friendship!!! AHHH my heart. I love them! Hopefully they will stay together for a long, long time. (Preferably until they get old and grey.) Who´s yall favorite character and why? Any favorite moments/scenes? (I am in trouble because I wrote this during my linguistic class and only got half of the stuff taught. So please give this some love. Why do I only get good ideas during my studies?! Send help! Regret is really having the best of me right now. Like why did I let my mind convince me to write this down?! Now I have to study that sht on my own!)

Genre: anime imagine/oneshot? Jujutsu Kaisen imagine? Fluff!

Character(s): Itadori Yuuji x you (reader) x Ryomen Sukuna

Spoiler(s):NONE, (Please be aware that I just finished the first season and that I don´t read the manga. Please do not spoil anything if any comments are made. Thank you so much. I really appreciate that.

Warnings: Maybe grammar or spelling mistakes. (I genuinely apologize. English is not my mother tongue and I´m really trying to improve. So please be so kind and have mercy)

Words: 2529

Info: Keep in mind that the words in italic are your (the readers) train of thoughts.

!!! Please do not steal my idea or work. Credit me if this is shared or published in any other platform or any other way. This took me a lot of time. So please respect me as the writer and my work. Picture used is not mine. Credits to: @calclzz (Twitter)!!!

Dating Itadori Yuuji for six months now felt like six months spend in pure bliss, joy and heaven. You were the most happiest since you could remember. He took care of you and loved you. Everyday felt like the first time you went on a date. Every time you thought of him there would be a smile on your lips that would get Nobara to tease the hell out of you until you would hide your face behind your hands because of the growing pink shade of your cheeks. “Sweetie it´s fine. You´re in love with that brainless creature after all. I might not understand how such a sweet living being like you could love him but what I know is that he´s a lucky idiot.”

Yes, you were deeply in love but so was he. He fell for you in the first week he saw you. It started with a simple crush and him always trying to show his best and strongest side whenever you were around. Sometimes he managed to do so but some other times he would end up embarrassing himself. With time passing he slowly understood that you were more than just a simple crush. He was in love with you. He fell for you head over heels. He would always imagine hugging you whenever he saw you hug Panda. He tried his best to not show any traits of jealousy but always failed due to him looking at you with a sad pout. He wanted to make a move and tell you about his feelings but the curse inside of him worried him so he kept a distance. He tried. He tried so much to unlove you but he didn’t knew how, so it came that every time he made a step back regret and sadness would overcome him and he would come back and make two steps towards you. One day he found himself knocking on the door of your dorm asking if you wanted to watch a movie with him.

“For all the times that rain on my parade. And all the clubs you get in using my name. You think you broke my heart, oh girl for goodness sake. You think I´m crying on my own, well I ain´t.”, You were in your dorm cleaning and rearranging some of the furniture’s in your bedroom while singing some of your favorite songs like you always do whenever you were cleaning. You tried to look for a good place to put in your full length mirror you recently purchased while once in a while checking the cake that was put in the oven by you.

“And I didn´t wanna write a song, cause I didn´t want anyone thinking I still care I don´t but, you still hit my phone up. And baby I be movin' on. And I think you should be somethin' I don't wanna hold back, maybe you should know that. My mama…”

Although the song wasn´t really about a beautiful love story or a lovely couple you still loved the song a lot. It was a simple song accompanied by a guitar. You loved it. The first time you heard it you fell in love with it, although you weren´t that of a huge fan of the artist himself you sang the song daily and listened to it as much as you could. The song was played on your phone at least three times in a week and probably sang more than three times a day. When asked what exactly you liked about the song you would stop in your tracks and just reply with a shrug and a sweet smile.

And right now was one of those moments were you sang the song when a pouting pink haired boy started to whine. “Baaabyyyyy, why are you singing such a sad song? It´s basically about someone that got used by their partner for their name. Why would you sing that when your great boyfriend is around?”, you smiled at Yuuji who walked into your room with sad eyes. “Aren´t you happy with me?”, you shook your head and laughed at his question. “No bebe. It´s just that I really like this song. Should I sing something else?”, you asked and made sure the mirror you leaned at your wall next to your closet does not fall. “Yes please!”, when you were sure that the mirror stood properly you turned around and walked to your bed to take your phone. “What are you doing?”, Yuuji asked leaning onto your desk that was occupied by books and notebooks filled by your neat handwriting.

With a chuckle and your phone in your hand you reached for the curious looking boy in your room. Yuuji took your hand in his and let you drag him back on his feet. “Why do I need to stand when I can enjoy your singing sitting?”, the boy asked with eyes filled by endless love. You said nothing and just played the song you choose and made the boy smile.

“I found a love for me. Oh darling, just dive right in and follow my lead. Well, I found a boy, beautiful and sweet. Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting from me…”, you softly started to sing again while you placed one of your hands around his neck and the other one at his cheek to lovingly caress it. Yuuji leaned on your hand and let out a soft sigh. You were in love. No matter what anyone said about your age and you two being just kids. You didn´t care what people said because you knew what you felt. You knew what he felt and that was enough. You didn´t care when people told you that it is just a phase that is lead by curiosity and the need of attention. You didn´t care and so didn’t he. Why should you two care when your friends were watching your backs and making sure no one talked bad about you. Why should you care when even Gojo Sensei was approving of your relationship and supported you although he still annoyed the hell out of the both of you. But that´s Gojo Sensai after all. You didn´t expect anything else from that man.

“I love you so much.”, you heared Yuuji say before he hid his face on your shoulder. You placed a soft kiss on his neck while you slowly danced around your bedroom. “… Baby, I´m dancing in the dark with you between my arms. Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song. When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath. But you heard it, darling you look perfect tonight….”

The position you were right now made you remember the beginning of the time you started to date him. You remember him never wanting to hug you this long. You remember him saying that he fears he won´t be able to hold up his guard and Sukuna taking over his body and mind. He feared the thought of you seeing him and on top of that having him so close to you. He feared the thought of him hurting you. He was able to take care of the curse and make sure that he doesn´t take over his body and causes trouble. But he did not knew if he was able to do that in your arms since he turned weak whenever you were close to him. And he told you that. He told you his worries and him being scared that the curse will hurt you. But the curse never did.

You always hugged him and held Yuuji close to you. You would sit in between his legs at the river close to the academy and sleep in his arms without a bit of worry. You would drag him to bed with you and keep him over night next to you without a bit of fear towards Sukuna. Sensei Gojo might be supporting your relationship but he always made sure to tell you that you should never forget that there was a curse inside of the boy you called your boyfriend.

“…We are still kids, but we´re so in love. Fighting against all odds, I know we´ll be alright this time. Darling, just hold my hand. Be my man, I´ll ne your girl. I see my future in your eyes….”, you never cared for the curse being inside of him. It was a fact and couldn´t be changed. So you simply lived with it. But it would be a lie when you said that you didn´t saw him once in the cause of yor six months of relationship. In fact, he appeared quite some time out of nowhere when you had Yuuji in your dorm. But that only happened when the boy turned into the lovesick boyfriend he was or when he came seeing you after a mission all tired and sleepy. Every time he would pass out after a tiring mission the chances of Sukuna taking his body over was high. But you learned that when he showed up around you it never was to cause trouble or hurt you. He only did that to take a closer look at you while wondering why his stupid vessel liked you so much. He would come to understand why the stupid creature would always come for a hug or simply just holding hands. And right now, exactly that happened.

“….Baby, I´m dancing in the dark, with you between my arms. Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song.”, you still had your arms around his neck while caressing it. Slow steps were made around the room accompanied by your voice that sang along to another of your favorite songs. Another soft kiss was placed on his neck by you when you loosened one of your arms to take your boyfriends hand in yours. His hand that held you close to him were tenderly placed around your body. The hand you loosened around him took one of his in yours to intertwine them when something made you stop in your tracks for a few seconds. You felt longs nails on your boyfriend’s soft hands that made you realize that he no longer was here but rather pushed aside. “…I have faith in what I see. Now I know I have met an angel in person and he looks perfect. I don´t deserve this, you look perfect tonight.”

“Aren´t we a bit cheeky, my dear dark knight.”, a deep sigh echoed in your ears. “Why did you stop singing human?”, a chuckle left you while the song by now ended but your body were still slowly swaying from side to side. “Cause the song ended, idiot.”, an annoying growl erupted from the throat of your boyfriend. “Who are you calling idiot, human?”, Sukuna didn´t sound mad. In fact it even sounded playful. Should I let go of him? But he´s not letting go himself so hugging him should be fine, right? “Why are you calling me human? Well, I am one but still. Do you know that I have a name? A name like you have it. Something we use to call each other to avoid calling every living being human, you know my dear?”, a soft but still deep chuckle could be heard before he let go of your intertwined hands and got back to hug you. “I´m not stupid you damn creature. I´m even smarter than any of you could ever get.”, he whispered while he nuzzled onto you. “Really? Are you that? Well it seems like you weren´t that smart when you ripped Yuujis heart out of his chest or attacked Sensei Gojo. Remember?”

The words you said made him loosen his grip on you and look you in the eyes. Any normal human being with a bit sense of sanity would have screamed or looked the curse with fear in their eyes but you didn´t. With one hand still around your body that held you close to his he took your face in his other and made you look in his eyes. “I dare you to get rude. Watch out what you say, human.”, he sounded angry and talked in his deep voice that would cause anyone to tear up instantly. But you? You were smiling at him while trying to hold back the need to laugh. It´s so easy to provoke him.“I need to take the cake out of the oven.”, the curse looked at you dumbfounded. Weren´t you scared? How aren´t you scared of him? “You need to what?”, he asked confused. “Let me go for a second and you´ll see.”, the man in front of you raised a brow but let go of you nevertheless to see what you meant. After a quick thanking him, you made your way out of the bedroom into your kitchen to turn the oven off and take the cake out. “You see that´s a cake and the thing it was in is called oven. It bakes there. Now I let it cool.”, you carefully put the cake on your counter and look back at your boyfriend whos body and mind was taken over by the curse. “Now would you mind changing back with Yuuji? I´d like to watch Netflix with him.”, you asked with a tilted head.

A slight smirk grew on Sukunas lips before he came closer. “You could also do that with me. , you shook your head and went to sit on the couch in front of the TV. “I could, but that´s not fun. We wanted to start the third season of Money heist you know. And I need someone to talk to. And that I can´t do with you. You´re not understanding the whole concept of the series and the minds, emotions and the actions of the characters. Therefore it´s a no for me, thank you. Now please change back, your majesty.”

Sukuna came to sit next to you. With an annoyed eye roll he closed his eyes and left to allow the actual owner of the body to take over again. “Hey there. You´re back, baby?”, you said with a tilted head. Yuuji looked around with confusion written all over his face. “Did he come again?”, he asked you with a pout and apologetic eyes. You nodded and took his hands in yours. “It´s fine. He didn´t do anything. He never does. He just comes to annoy us.”, Yuuji nodded and pulled you into his arms and made you sit on his lap. You were straddling him while he buried his face back on your neck. He was happy. He was happy and really appreciated the fact that Sukuna kept his word and never hurt you. He might cause him a lot of other problems and annoy the hell out of him and even drop him when he needed him but at least he didn´t hurt you. He sometimes even could feel how he took care of you when he couldn´t. Yuuji couldn´t say that he was on good terms with the curse but one thing’s for sure. He was damn thankful that he understood his feelings for you and didn´t disrespect that.

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rainbowsky · 3 years

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To the person who sent me the thousand word essay, if you check out my ask policy I don't publish these kinds of long asks. I used to get tons of them and it got to be too much. Also, a lot of your comments contain anti talking points that I will not publish on my blog. But I can respond to some of the issues you raised.

TW/CW - brief mention of homophobia and suicide.

Basically your message was a sort of cataloguing of your doubts about BJYXSZD. To quote your closing paragraph, "Ah....i am just desperate for them to be a couple after all these months and the bts videos and inteviews, but it just doesn't add up anymore. So, as a confused fan, i thought about seeking reassurance to you."

I don't think it's my place, nor is it really anyone's place, to try to convince you or reassure you that GGDD is real. You will either believe or you won't believe. In my experience, people who are filled with doubts and in need of a steady stream of candies and clues to keep them satisfied are going to find themselves on a constant emotional roller-coaster of euphoria and misery.

Let go of your need for certainty.

As I've said in the past, when you let go of your need for certainty you will find that certainty comes a lot more easily. People who need certainty approach GGDD like a detective agency or a hungry ghost, focusing on their craving for proofs and candies that never quite seem to satiate them, and they miss out on the real joy of just being a fan.

A lot of the doubts you listed are things that don't really fit with why BXG believe BJYXSZD. We don't base our belief on the fact that they did a BL show together. We don't base our belief on the fact that they get along well together. We don't base our belief on candies. We base our belief on the insight we accumulate over a period of time, and that's not something that can be passed on to someone else. It's something everyone has to discover for themselves.

GGDD have nothing to prove. BXG have nothing to prove. We are all just here to enjoy them, love them and support them.

My advice: just relax, let go of your need for certainty, and enjoy GG and DD. Certainty will come or it won't, so there's no need to fret over it.

A couple things I felt the need to respond to:

Hidden relationships

Hidden relationships are totally a Thing in the entertainment industry, of course. Andy Lau with his 24 year hidden relationship is a great example. But you seem fixated on the idea that if GG or DD were hiding a relationship, it must be a heterosexual one.

Heteronormativity is a huge part of why so many fans have a hard time believing that GG and DD could ever be a real couple. There can be endless signs that a man is in a gay relationship and the fans will just dismiss it all, but if that man so much as smiles at a woman, fans are immediately ready to believe he's in love with her. Heterosexuality is seen as the default, and that makes homosexuality invisible to a lot of straight people.

You mentioned Leslie Cheung. I recommend this excellent post if you want to see why the world wasn't ready for him. He was an inspiration to LGBTQ people, without any doubt. I think he was equally a cautionary tale for a lot of people, even if the tragedy of his death wasn't necessarily directly related to his queerness or how he was being treated by the public.

There's a trope in society and in media and entertainment, that queer people are tragic figures. Queer characters are often presented as emotionally and psychologically turbulent people who meet untimely, tragic ends. Queer stories tend to be focused around "the struggle of being queer" and the rejection, fear and bigotry queer people face. The violence, the death, the suicides.

How could this not feed into the fears we have as queer people growing up in an often hostile world? How could a story like Leslie's fail to scare as many people as it inspires?

And besides, there are closeted gay couples in the entertainment industry in China.

I have talked about the whole hidden relationship thing, the whole 'needing to appear single' thing, in the past. You can find some of those posts linked at the end of this one. I've also talked about the pressure to appear single (along with the pressure to enter a straight marriage) previously here.

DD and the anti bullshit you've read

I can tell you've read a lot of anti lies in your travels. You're carrying a lot of the toxic ideas that antis spread online. I'm going to take a wild guess and say you spend most of your time on Twitter and YouTube, where these lies are part of the air people breathe on those platforms.

The rumors of DD being in a relationship with that heiress are nothing but harassment and bullshit. She is a known celebrity stalker who has caused scandals with multiple celebrities. Antis spread those lies because they are harmful to DD, not because they're true. DD denies them because they are false, not because he's got something to hide.

DD has never once been spotted with her. He's never once been photographed with her. There exists in the world exactly zero evidence of any common thread between her and DD. Zero evidence that they've ever even been in the same room together. Zero. There's no candy, nothing.

Meanwhile the candy connecting DD and GG together is so abundant it would put Willy Wonka out of business. There are constant reports of them being seen together, evidence of them being together, etc. Some of that stuff is stalker material that I won't share on my blog - such as DD's suitcase being spotted in GG's car a few days ago - but yeah, if you believe in the stalker heiress BS but not GGDD, that only speaks to your ignorance of the situation.

One of the things I find most frustrating about being a BJYXSZD BXG is that we are constantly characterized as spectacularly naive and deluded, meanwhile it's our most vocal critics - the antis, toxic solos and insecure turtles - who unquestioningly believe anything they read.

As for 22*7, you can always tell a DD anti by their willingness to claim DD should have spoken openly about GG during the whole scandal last year. No one who knows anything about GG and DD or about the situation could say in good faith that DD should have spoken up. I view that whole attitude as a litmus test for who knows and understands and truly supports GGDD, and who is either uninformed or an anti.

You can read more about that here and here.

And no, GG has never issued any statement denying BJYXSZD. Neither of them has.

BJYXSZD is not based on old BTS and interviews

I sometimes get sick of seeing clips and photos and metas about the Untamed, I sometimes get tired of talking about the same old interview clips and BTS. I see these things as ancient history - something fun to visit every now and then, but not where I want to live. I don't base my present belief on any of that. All that stuff can ever really do now is give us background on how things started and give us a bit of insight into how they get along and interact.

No BXGSZD that I know of bases their belief on "old BTS and interviews."

Both GG and DD have interesting new projects and endorsements. There's a ton of new content coming out all the time. We still regularly see new evidence that they're together. The past stuff is just for context.

Wrapping this all up, I'll just reiterate what I said before. No one can, or even should, convince you that GGDD is real. That's something you'll have to make peace with for yourself. If you want to get there faster, just relax and enjoy being a fan, and take some time to learn more about GGDD. Certainty may come in time. If it doesn't, well at least you had fun!

Since you are a newer fan I recommend checking out my BXG glossary, along with my masterlist post for some of the things I've talked about in the past.

#ggdd in the public eye #antis go home #lgbtpride #ask

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cybernaght · 3 years

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Guardian rewatch: episode 7

The world’s most amicable mugging continues in this episode, as Shen Wei waits for Zhao Yunlan to spring into his defence as his personal knight in shining armour. Or, as the official subtitle of the episode states:

I kid you not. Here’s the original with the alternate translation.

I am once more very much not mad at it.

I say that Shen Wei’s mugging is amicable, but that is of course is before one of the “gangsters” tries to grab at his Pendant of Pining. “It’s not something that you people can touch”, he states, easily restraining the man’s wrist. He’s not losing his composure just yet, but his warrior’s stance is showing, and he comes pretty close to breaking cover.

Thankfully, this is when Zhao Yunlan shows up to intervene. Hearing him approach, Shen Wei’s first priority is hiding the Pendant of Pining. His second priority is straightening his collar and tightening his tie. Shen Wei may be in a middle of an attempted mugging, but he’d be damned if he allows Zhao Yunlan to see him dishevelled. Come to think of it, it’s kind of hilarious that Shen Wei’s attempt at pretending to be a poor helpless human includes being completely nonplussed by being attacked. Surely freaking out a little would be an infinitely less suspicious choice.

Yunlan politely but firmly pushes the professor aside, and Shen Wei waits patiently next to the wall, neatly folding his hands the same way he did at the unpleasant councillor meeting in the previous episode.

Here we finally see that Zhao Yunlan is pretty impressive in hand to hand combat. This man may not have a sword, but he can easily knock two dudes out with three moves. Again, this is a very short, but pretty damn flawless little piece of choreography. Zhao Yunlan’s fighting prowess is even more accentuated with a gleeful adrenaline-filled grin he breaks into after he’s done. I understand Shen Wei’s endless desire to protect the man he’s devoted to, but, honestly, it’s nice to see Zhao Yunlan not really needing protection - not against simple street crime at least.

Shen Wei proceeds to calmly dust off his discarded briefcase. Zhao Yunlan proceeds to retrieve the other man’s watch from the ground and then passes it on. With physical contact. Should I be obsessing over how their fingers linger together for a second? Maybe not. I am doing it anyway.

“What a coincidence”, deadpans Shen Wei, who knows for the fact that the other man is tailing him, and causes a delightful burst of faux outrage in response.

“What are you implying?”, Zhao Yunlan asks innocently, deflecting further by inquiring whether Shen Wei thinks he staged this little rescue mission. He follows it with “Only you’re allowed to be here this time of night?”, which I choose to read as, “Really, Shen Wei. Why do you think you should have a monopoly on stalking in this relationship?”

As the two are distracted by the low key flirting, one of the muggers makes an opportunity attack on Zhao Yunlan. Shen Wei is alarming Yunlan to this with genuine worry, but does not lose his composure enough to intervene.

We are treated to another excellent three moves, which are block-break-backfist. Well mixed sound helps, but Bai Yu does look very good as well. The footage does not appear sped up at all, but his movements are fast and crisp, he’s engaging his whole body, everything lands well angle-wise, it’s appropriately safe... Again, I cannot fault this at all. Bai Yu is not physically strong, and this just goes to show that you don’t need a lot of muscle to look like you can be an effective fighter. I don’t want to go into long detail on western media’s obsession with unrealistic physical standards in action media, but suffice it to say that it’s an unhealthy and pointless aesthetic choice which has nothing to do with reality of combat performance - as this scene clearly illustrates. (Look. As I said, stage violence is one of my jobs, and I’m a curvy woman who spends a lot of her time with insecure young actors and drama students. I have opinions.)

Having fended off the attack, Zhao Yunlan exaggerates the situation with the proverb “talking too much will get you killed.” Shen Wei is obviously distressed over his choice of words, but he looks down to hide it.

At this point the two decide to go home instead of getting the street criminals off the street.

Zhao Yunlan follows Shen Wei into his flat, pretending very loudly that he has not seen this place before. He is trying way too hard. And there is a touch of a naughtily feline glimmer in his eyes, because he is probably still on that adrenaline rush: his heart would be pounding, senses elevated, brain basking in a pleasant sharpness akin to a sugar rush, when everything is a little bit too saturated. And an attractive mysterious man he just saved is asking him to stay. Zhao Yunlan’s going to have even less brain to mouth filter here than he usually does.

Shen Wei is getting a first aid to kit to treat Zhao Yunlan’s injuries. It’s anyone’s guess why the self-healing Envoy needs a first aid kit at all - it lives in a Tupperware box as well, suggesting that it’s been assembled and organised by hand rather than store bought.

Sitting down, and tucking his tie in (because neatness is everything), Shen Wei prepares to administer a mysterious ointment to Zhao Yunlan’s bruise, and states that this is him giving Chief Zhao an opportunity for interrogation. I bet he has got a lie prepared for any question, because this situation has definitely been pre-planned.

Instead of probing the other man, Zhao Yunlan offers him a job. Shen Wei’s answer is a firm no, which he utters without even a second hesitation. To Zhao Yunlan, this clearly reads as a rejection, as his face crumbles.

He livens up however, when Shen Wei hurries to add that this is not a denial of help or cooperation. Zhao Yunlan is right to ask why he would take the job then case; this is an entirely reasonable question. I’m guessing, Shen Wei’s reluctance comes from his unwillingness to compromise Hei Pao Shi’s position, rather than an attempt to prevent Zhao Yunlan from getting involved in the cosmic shitstorm which is currently brewing: as the Lord Guardian, he’s gonna get right in the middle of said storm either way.

“You just move in and didn’t invite your neighbour over for some fun?”, Zhao Yunlan asks.

Laying it on really thick, I see.

Shen Wei blinks disbelievingly, as if to say “did he just…?” then recovers enough to huff out a laugh.

“My mistake. Next time, I’ll properly invite you.”

Zhao Yunlan snaps his fingers in delight, visibly vibrating with joy. In his head this is Yunlan - 1: Xiao Wei - 0.

As Shen Wei starts to apply the mysterious ointment, Zhao Yunlan flinches, and Shen Wei is genuinely taken aback by an idea that he might hurt this man. He is so preciously startled for a second, shedding ten thousand years in an instant. I am never going to not be impressed by Zhu Yilong’s ability to switch into Baby Shen Wei mode in a matter of seconds.

“I didn’t expect you to have such skilful hands.”

Zhao Yunlan’s charm attack truly is unrelenting, and Shen Wei looks up with such a fragile hope in his eyes. He has lived a long time now, and he has learned to maintain thick walls around himself, but he is still incredibly affected by Kunlun’s shameless flirting.

Continuing his charm offensive, Zhao Yunlan gets so distracted by trying to further impress Shen Wei, he unwittingly reveals that he knows the layout of this flat. And realises what he said. And hopes that the other man had not noticed, adorably brushing his nose in embarrassment.

He dug this one out for himself, and Shen Wei is far from mortified: he is pleased to have caught the other man out. Zhao Yunlan flails, and Shen Wei quite literally is failing to wipe a smug smile off his own face.

He’s not even really waiting for an explanation. He’s just happy to win this round. There is even a little “yeah sure let’s pretend I believe you” tilt of the eyebrow, when Yunlan finally comes up with something that sounds as a reasonable excuse.

After his massive blunder, Zhao Yunlan tries to leave again. Shen Wei stops him, again, and there is no limit to how slyly Zhao Yunlan turns around, followed by a hind of disappointment when all he gets is an ointment, and not, you know, an opportunity to have a good look around Shen Wei’s bedroom.

Shen Wei is left alone in his flat in a state of utter emotional overload, stroking the Pendant under his shirt.

Let’s disregard for a second the fluctuating length of the chord the Pendant hangs on (is it between his collar bones or in front of his breastbone? Pick one!), and just appreciate the pining. Shen Wei is going through a lot of feelings since his Kunlun’s returned into his life, and sometimes computing is not an option.

In the next scene, the muggers are discussing Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan, calling them both too formidable to even attempt an act of revenge against them. Definitely a wise idea. Unfortunately for them, they immediately get attacked by… something.

Spoiler alert: no, it’s not a bear.

It’s the White Shirt Day at the SID. Chu Shuzhi is the only one not participating. In this scene, we discover that Lin Jing likes a horror web novelist called Lai Su - which will be very convenient for the case at hand. During their conversation, Wang Zheng alerts he team to the new case, asking for the whereabouts of their boss. Zhu Hong’s reply is that who knows which old pal the man is hang out with. As we never see him having any friends outside of his job, I choose to believe that he is probably hanging out with Shen Wei; quite possibly exploring the layout of his bedroom. Especially considering how good his mood is as he strolls into the office announcing that he is going to buy a feast for everyone.

Unfortunately, the feast has to wait. Zhao Yunlan, Chu Shuzhi and Xiao Guo head towards the crime scene, which is the very same alley the mugging took place the night before.

“Based on my experience, he died from freezing.”

There has never been a more apt reason to use the phrase “no shit Sherlock”.

Apparently, there is a cctv camera trained right on this very particular dark alley. Which implies that the muggers were even less professional than they appeared to be at the beginning of the episode. Mysteriously, the footage fails to show the actual monster who attacked the poor unfortunate street criminals. It did, on the other hand, capture Zhao Yunlan’s dashing rescue of Professor Shen.

Zhao Yunlan can’t exactly stop his team from rewinding the footage, so he is just left squirming as those around him gape at him spending time with Shen Wei in the middle of the night.

“You... and Shen Wei? This late at night?”

Chu Shuzhi’s transition from disbelief to a knowing “ah” via a mischievous smirk is particularly amusing.

The following afternoon, Zhu Hong appears in Shen Wei’s office, laptop in hand. She is quietly furious at being given this task; as I imagine it is very awkward indeed to be a laptop carrier for your crush’s crush. The entire scene she will be alternating between glaring, rolling her eyes, pursing her lips, and glaring with even more venom.

After Shen Wei gets over his initial bafflement at technology, he realises that Zhao Yunlan is video calling him in order to ask for his expertise on the current case. For the most of this scene the call looks like some sort of fake generic video conference software, apart from some shots on the SID side which very obviously show a pre-recorded footage being played: with a pause button, and a time stamp, and everything.

Shen Wei is in full trolling mode when he educates the SID team on all the types of bears that could have attacked the victim. He tasted this feeling of outsmarting Yunlan the night before and it’s too sweet to let go. Judging by the fact that Da Qing, who is by Zhao Yunlan’s side, is falling asleep during this conversation, we can guess that it’s been going on for a while.

Zhao Yunlan knows that Shen Wei is trying to prove a point here - he will not be bullied into being a consultant. So, Zhao Yunlan changes tactics, and asks Shen Wei for clues as a friend. Shen Wei assures Zhao Yunlan in turn that he would never hide anything important from. The magnitude of this particular lie is immeasurable, unless Shen Wei considers turning himself into a literal suicide bomb inconsequential. Which, to be fair, he might do.

Finally, Da Qing wakes up and suggests that the suspect is a Youchu (translated in subs a “secluded beast”). He is not correct, but it is important that we know what those are, because we’ll see them in a couple of episodes - so it actually makes sense to write them in here.

Shen Wei instantly comes forward, fishes a relevant file out of his drawer, and educates the team on that particular monster. Zhao Yunlan relates that he is familiar with those, and that he knows Hei Pao Shi fought them before in nearby cities.

Existence of aforementioned nearby cities will remain a beautiful enigma, which will never be explained. Seastar will remain very much a Little Prince-sized planet.

At this point Zhao Yunlan gets a call about the other mugger being found, and Shen Wei tells him in a rush that he does not think those two men possess Undergrounder qualities.

When asked however what those qualities are, he does not elaborate, and, after a thick silence, Zhao Yunlan sighs in resignation and finally lets Shen Wei off the hook, assuring him that he knows not all Undergrounders are monsters. He knows - of course he knows - that Shen Wei is hiding stuff. He knows the other man is somehow invested in the Undergounders, and is probably is one himself. Once again he chooses to trust him absolutely. I know it feels like I say those words every single episode, but this is also the choice Zhao Yunlan makes, deliberately, every single episode. This conversation will leave Zhao Yunlan very cranky for the remainder for the case, but his willingness to keep giving Shen Wei concessions is actually really sweet.

Shen Wei asks, perhaps, impulsively, that Yunlan shares his findings with him, because he is curious who the culprit is. It makes, as ever, little sense for him to do so considering that he would find it out anyway as Hei Pao Shi.

After completing her mission, Zhu Hong leaves in a huff. She did not say hello and she does not say goodbye either. Shen Wei tries to wave amicably, but aborts the gesture.

He does not yet know - and will not find out for quite some time - why Zhu Hong feels so antagonistic towards him.

Next stop: the hospital ward with a now insane criminal. Portrayal of mental health issues on this show is... interesting, by which I mean terribly stigmatising. I would have understood if this was a magic-induced psychosis, but I don’t think that’s the case at all.

Lin Jing realises that the case sounds very much like the web horror novel he likes. It sounds insane, but Yunlan hears him out. The scientist goes into great detail over the author, revealing that he was a leader of his fan club at some point, and detailing several murders from his recent novel that appeared to have have happened in reality.

The team moves on to scout the author’s - Lai Su’s - house, with Zhao Yunlan being the one to approach it. He then proceeds to summon his team via a non-existent radio.

Look. There is no mouth piece on this jacket. There is no earpiece in his ear. There are no wires. None of the team have radios. None of them even look like they are listening to radios. (Trust me, the “please shut up for a second, someone is speaking into my ear” is a recognisable look). Guardian’s writers/directors. Mah dudes. If you can’t afford radios, just make him do a non-verbal signal, seriously. Same effect, with much less silliness, and no continuity issues.

Before the team enters the house, we see Ya Qing in crow form for the first time. Even without the benefit of hindsight, it’s easy to recognise that the crow will become narratively significant because she is animated, and this show would not waste its very scarce and rapidly depleting CGI budget in vein.

We also know that the crow is a Yashou because Lin Jing starts talking about Zhu Hong at that exactly moment. Guardian is many wonderful things - it’s dramatic, breathtaking, heart-wrenching, and poignant - but subtle it is not.

Inside the house, they discover a secret room, which Lai Su is hiding in, and we finally get to meet our unfortunate culprit.

It is very peculiar how mean-spirited this episode seems to be. The web novelist in question is shown in an unequivocally negative light. He is a coward hiding behind a blanket, a weirdo living in a secret room, a glutton stuffing his face with snacks and drinking wine. He is shown as too vain to stop chasing clout even when he suspects that his novel is leading to people dying. He writes for attention and money rather than out of genuine artistic expression. He is a whimpering mess, begging Lin Jing on his knees to speak to the Chief on his behalf. Even if we consider that moral of the story (as stated later in Guo Changcheng’s diary note) is “internet bad”, this insistence of making Lai Su so unmistakably despicable is baffling. The series is based on the web novel. What kind of message is this sending about its origins?

On the bright side, I suppose it is nice that part of this episode not revolving around Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei’s relationship is actually rather Lin Jing-centric. So far, he was mostly there for occasional tech support and countless shots of him of screaming at a computer, but here we get to know more about him, and he goes on a little emotional journey of his own - meeting his idol and being distraught by the author not living up to expectations. It is always so disappointing to see creators you admire being imperfect, or downright unpleasant, and it’s easy to sympathise with Lin Jing’s discontent.

Zhao Yunlan’s modus operandi has always been intuition. Looking at the author, he knows that he must be responsible for the murders, and also knows that he could not possibly have been. For once it is actually Xiao Guo who suggests the solution: multiple personality disorder. Or, magical multiple personality disorder, as it is the case. We see this click with the Chief, and he genuinely praises the young man.

Back at the house, Lai Su is deciding to stop the murder spree by writing the demise of the homicidal protagonist of his novel. This is his ultimate redemption, which also leads to his untimely death by the hands of the monster who lives within him and is manifested through his writing.

The team asks Zhao Yunlan what was going on with this strange case. They won’t get an explanation; but Shen Wei will.

Zhao Yunlan, as promised, drops by Shen Wei’s office late at night to tell him all about the case. He concludes that Lai Su must have had Undergrounder blood in him, with his power not manifesting until now. Zhao Yunlan sounds rather remorseful as he stipulates that the writer could have lived a long happy life despite his origin and abilities, had he not started unknowingly abusing his powers. This Zhao Yunlan is miles removed from the man who vowed to catch every Undergrounder, and we can see Shen Wei infinitely moved by this man’s empathy.

This, I think, is the very moment Shen Wei starts to fall in love - not with the man who was Kunlun, or the man who will be Kunlun, or the man who resembles Kunlun - with Zhao Yunlan, Lord Guardian, Chief of Special Investigations Department, with all his incessant flirting, and sharp edges, and pointed questions, and endless understanding.

In the final moments of this episode Zhao Yunlan shares a dark premonition that something truly terrible will happen in their city.

He has no idea how right he is.

Next up: Episode 8: The Morning Porridge

——

This conversation happened with my partner as I was working on this recap:

Me: … I am two scenes in and this is how much I’ve typed up already.

My partner: Honey! I know you’re Russian, but War and Peace has already been written.

#guardian #zhao yunlan #shen wei #weilan #recap #rewatch #those are getting longer and longer

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cluelessgurl · 3 years

Text

Hey! Here is the request from prompt list! Hope you like it! <3 @luminara123

Agony

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Warnings: Angst

Words; 1.5K

Writing prompt #1- ‘I can’t live without you’

#6- ‘Let’s get married’

#68- ‘Go away’

‘I - I.. we cannot do this Anakin. This is wrong, what we did, what we’re doing is wrong.’ you sighed, closing your eyes tightly, to hide from him ‘How could something that feel so beautiful, so blissful be wrong Y/N? I can’t, I don’t believe it’ Anakin countered, his face was sprayed with crimson blush as his eyes scrunched, turmoil obvious within them. ‘Our whole lives we have been told this is wrong, attachment. The Jedi Order is our whole life, we vowed ourselves to it’ you spoke quietly, as your nose burnt and eyes stung, tears threatening to trickle down your face. All this time, he had been the solution to your problems. The voices that screamed in your head, telling you that you would always fail were hushed by him, his laughter filled it instead. The scars that once dirtied your body, now adorned on your skin as his hands smoothed over them. The pain your heart once endured eased as the joy and elation you felt every time his presence was around now filled it instead. It was all him, Anakin.

Tears were quick to flow down his face, as Anakin turned his head to look away, he felt angry but above all, he felt emptiness. The person he loved so dearly, closely and intimately, was refusing to reciprocate. He knew how you felt, he could feel everything you felt as you sat crouched beside him, as you started into your hands. He had to tell you how he felt though, desperately had to. ‘I'm in agony. The closer I get to you, the worse it gets. The thought of not being with you—I can't breathe.You are in my very soul, tormenting me...what can I do? Believe me, I wish I could just wish away my feelings, but I can't. I can’t live without you. You let out a short, shocked breath as you looked up to meet his deep blue eyes, swimming with tears. You couldn’t lie anymore, you couldn’t deny it, living a life with him absent would be eternal pain, it would be.. Agony. You both felt each others’ emotions, the strongest urge to give in. And as your lips touched his, you both did.

‘Absolutely not Anakin! I’m not pleading Obi-Wan to make suggestions about our legions being sent together on every mission!’ you replied as a stream of laughter left your lips he started to whine ‘Why not? We both work great together, we always get the missions completed far quicker than any other pair and.. We could spend all our time together’ Anakin replied through a smirk as he pulled you closer , you did what you usually do what he smirks like that, you rolled your eyes ‘No, that such an unrealistic notion, and he’s your master’ you huffed smiling brightly, ‘Yes but we both know he likes you more, he’s always going on about how mature you are and how your a great strategist unlike my ‘reckless’ ways..’ he spoke out as he placed tender kisses on your forehead,‘you gave him side eyes as you shook your head ‘..anyway, it’s not like i’m your wife you’d get sick of seeing me everyday’ you chuckled, he paused as he stared at you, his face remained emotionless, until his eyes brightened and he gave you a crooked smile ‘Marry me’ you blinked a few times, trying to process what you thought had been said ‘I’m sorry what-wha’ he laughed, thoroughly enjoying your reaction ‘Let’s get married’ he spoke so casually that you assumed he must be joking ‘Your really funny Anakin, come on we have to leave for Ryloth rather soon’ you quipped as you turned to walk. But you were stopped as a strong, but gentle grip hooked around your wrist making you face him. ‘I’m serious darling, let’s get married’ now he spoke with a seriousness you hadn’t seen in years.'Be my wife and spend the rest of your life with me’ the brightest smile appeared on your face as your mind flashed with endless possibilities of how a marriage between the both of you might be like, and it all ended in happiness. Which is why you agreed.

Your heart dropped to the bottom of the hot soil, your body felt rigid, tight, restricted as amber eyes started into your own, it was as if they were burning you. The flames of betrayal, loss and …. Agony burnt you from your fingertips to your toes, cascading down. You hadn’t dared let yourself believe Obi-Wan’s words about your husband, but his actions and words became apparent as you saw him, heard him.

‘Love can’t save us Y/N, only my new powers can do that.’ he spoke out with strain, he could sense your apprehension but he wanted,needed you to understand, he refused, utterly refused to live without you. The Jedi will tear us two apart now that they knew the truth about our love, our vow.. Or our ‘attachment’. The way they so ruthlessly simplify love, passion and commitment, they are wrong. They are evil. These thoughts relentlessly whirled in Vader. ‘I will not lose you the same way I lost my mother, I am becoming more powerful than any Jedi, I’m doing this to save you, to save us’

Anakin’s voice boomed in your head, his face looked pained, like he was fighting within himself. He looked drunk with power, your husband. Your husband looked like a man you didn’t recognise, this only amplified as he boasted. Not in the way he oh so cockily used to in the thousands of missions and battles you both had fought together. No, his usual smirk was replaced by a scowl, his gentle nature had thickened ‘I am more powerful than the Jedi, I will ensure our future. With you, with these powers, we can rule the galaxy, make things the way we want them to be! Destroy the Jedi, they oppose love, they oppose us. They are our enemies!’ he shouted, as his features curved into a deranged smile. You felt fear seep into your heart, something you never imagined Anakin would make you feel.

‘You’re breaking my heart Anakin, this.. this isn’t you Ani. You have good within you, you are selfless, you're brave. You're pure. You're a Jedi, come back! I beg you my love.’ you helplessly yelled, desperation drenched in your words, you couldn’t fathom a life without Anakin, you needed him back, the real him.

Vader saw red flash in his eyes, his rage boiling within him, it filled every inch, every crevice in his body, and he allowed it to. Hands clenched, face contorted in fury he bellowed ‘I am no Jedi! They are evil, they hide behind principles and stupidity. I am no Jedi!’ he inched slower towards you as your eyes froze in shock, you flinched at the sheer harshness of his voice.

‘Then you are lost. The Jedi raised you! They gave you a home, they gave you knowledge! They gave you everything you just threw away-’ suddenly the force around shrouded in darkness, the pit of your stomach ached, your throat tightened slowly, like a snake coiling around you.You were under his grasp, your lungs releasing precious air. Slowly and painfully you felt yourself losing. You looked up to look upon his face one last time, as painful memories poisoned your already broken heart. Your Anakin, your husband, your love was going to be your demise, he was not Anakin, you had truly lost him. You shut your eyes forcefully as tears flooded your sockets, you didn’t care about how your head was blaring and ringing, all you cared about was the agony of losing him.Blood now dripped down your neck from your ears.

STOP, let her go! A voice within Vader’s mind screamed at him, it was so loud that it shook him from his core, his eyes now flickering, from fire to ocean. The force was brimming inside of him, it wanted to be liberated, it wanted to let out. It fought and fought relentlessly,until his eyes opened abruptly.

His blue eyes now felt blurry as tears filled in. What had he done? Crimson now painted your beautiful face, his wife’s face. He was supposed to protect you! He was supposed to save you! But he was weak. He was now forever caged in Vader, this was the cruel trap of the dark side, whilst in search of salvation, he found temptation. This was his fate, this was Vader’s fate. But he would not let it be yours.

Suddenly, air once again seeped into your body as you fell to your knees ‘Go, Go now’ he mumbled until it bellowed ‘GO AWAY!’ you huffed as exhaustion took over you, your breaths became shallow as his voice became deeper and louder.Until you eyes finally shut.

And finally when they did open, the familiar hum of the ship and the bright flashes of lightspeed flickered upon your face.

It didn’t end in happiness, it ended in agony.

#anakin skywalker #star wars #clone wars #jedi order #general skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #vaderkin #darth vader fanfiction #vader

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heart-of-flames · 3 years

Note

If you don’t mind me asking, how would the RO react if the MC died or was severely injured

Aeleanor/Aeson: Death was an old friend. It had to be with beings that have lived as long as he had. It was an inevitable end to even the strongest of souls... but why did it have to be you? Why did it have to be the one person that meant more than breathing to him? Why did his old friend betray him in such a way? An old friend becoming an enemy that he would never not hold a grudge against.

Elaria/Ezra: Choked sobs threatened to escape her throat. The pained gasps being the only thing that abated them. Tears flowing down her fair cheeks like twin rivers. Her mind couldn’t comprehend that you were gone. That she wouldn’t see you again. That the feeling of warmth and safety that always wrapped around her was gone. That it would never return. All she had were the memories and her tears.

Catherine/Caleb: His face was buried in his hands. His body quaking with suppressed grief as images of you flash through his mind. He didn’t understand how you were gone. How you were there one moment and gone the next. Couldn’t understand that he would never see your smile or hear your laugh again. He didn’t understand how the world could be so cruel to tear you away from him.

Lydia/Luca: Silent tears fell from deep blue eyes. Rolling down her fair cheeks in an endless stream. Not a sound escaping her full lips as she stared at the nothingness before her. What had once been filled with memories of you both, now lay shattered on the ground. The remnants of her surroundings reminding her of her heart. The jagged edges of the glass would never be able to piece themselves back together. Nor would she.

Samara/Silas: “It has to be a joke,” he chokes out as he rocks himself back and forth. His hands buried in his hair as he cradled his face. Tears flowing from his eyes like a river. A normally jovial face stricken with grief and anguish. His darkened honey-brown eyes staring up towards the ceiling. A broken voice escaping from normally smiling lips. “I wouldn’t even be mad if it was a joke. I wouldn’t laugh but I wouldn’t be mad.” He lowers his head into his hands once more. “Please. Let it be a joke.”

Milena/Maven: A stony silence settles over her world as she stares at the wall in front of her. Silver eyes shining like steel daggers as they cut through the darkness. The slightly-ajar window blowing a soft breeze through the wind. Causing the scarf on the back of her chair to flutter. Her gaze zeroing in on it-- memories of her giving it to you flashing through her mind. Her mouth pressing itself into a thin line. Her entire being trying to stop the tidal wave of grief that was threatening to drown her. The faint smell of you that flowed with the breeze undid it all. Her tears and sobs escaping her just as you had. As silent and unobtainable as the wind rustling throughout the room.

Natalia/Nikolas: Pale fingers run through raven-black locks. Trembling with the force of his breathing. Silent tears from his eyes as he stares at the ground. “My beautiful songbird,” he murmurs brokenly-- aware of the crushing silence that surrounded him. “How can this be? How can I be in a world without your beautiful songs? Without your beautiful smile to keep me going? How can I be in a world without you?”

Lauren: The words of the documents spread out across her desk start to blur. Clear, concise notes becoming muddled as her tears return to her. Pain flaring through her chest as she flung herself back. The whiskey brown of her eyes shimmering in the dim light of her office. A choked sob erupting from her throat as she turned away from her report. Trembling hands rising up to her mouth to stem the oncoming sounds of her anguish. She had to complete her work. No one but her could do it. She wouldn’t allow anyone else to do it. She had to say goodbye to you one last time.

Faolan: A mournful howl erupted from Faolan’s lips. His crimson gaze locked with the moon. Tears running down his face as he stared at the sight that you used to fill him with such joy. “How could you take them away?” He cried with agony interlaced within his tone. “How could you take my moon away? How could you leave me in a world without their light? Why?”

Aidan: His jaw clenches as he tries to control the trembling of his body. Sharp breaths escaping from his noses as he does so. He could feel the tears that were already starting to form. His entire resolve to stay composed failing as yet another memory of your surfaces within his mind. Your smiling face causing his heart to break in two. “Why did you have to be such a dumbass?”

#heart of flames #romantic options #angst #sad ros #anonymous #death

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baezdylan · 3 years

Text

Scrapbooks of flowers

the third photograph: scrapbook of lotuses

"Story to story Building to building Street to street We pass each other on the stairs" - The Stairs, INXS

Revelius Sparks looks pleasant enough. His smile that tries almost too hard not to be a smile, his hands in his pockets and his eyes occasionally offering her an unreadable look. His sweater, on the other hand, looks rather disturbing. Improper. Disheveled. Messy. There are tiny colourful stains all over it (paint?) and there's a little hole on his shoulder. A hole revealing a bright yellow shirt he has underneath. Audrey Claire finds it weirdly comforting unacceptable. Her coming here was also unacceptable. But then again, wasn't that the idea? Wasn't she supposed to be doing something drastically different? And Revelius Sparks is someone she normally wouldn't have crossed paths with. There were days when he would come to school with his longish hair sprinkled with glitter. There were days when he would attend classes in mismatched shoes. Sometimes, he would come wrapped in a giant, ridiculous, red scarf that looked like it came straight out of his grandma's closet. As opposed to that, there were days when he would look completely normal. Jeans, shirts, jackets, neatly crafted hair (suddenly cut short), no glitter in sight. She knows these things because everybody knew them. Everybody might not have particularly enjoyed Revelius Sparks (he seemed to be... too much of... everything, you know?), but everybody knew who he was. Although, apparently, life goes on after high school and people usually turn out to be much more than one dimensional paper dolls once given a chance (at least that's what she's heard and she's trying out new things). So, Audrey Claire stands up from her recently found seat at the coffee shop and softly taps the shoulder of the so called Revelius Sparks, who's the last one waiting in line to order something. Three times, three times barely grazing his improper, disheveled, messy, unacceptable sweater. One. Two. Three. - Hi, I'm Audrey Claire, we used to go to the same high school. It's utterly absurd, the statement, considering how they were the souvenirs of that very same high school weeks not decades ago. Revelius Sparks doesn't seem to acknowledge the absurdity. His eyes are glossy and his cheeks are lightly freckled, she notes. - Oh, hi, I'm so happy to see you. Another absurdity, she thinks. How could you be happy to see somebody that you never properly met? Were never properly introduced to? - Nice seeing you. She mutters and turns around, ready to leave (and avoid any further discomfort). She hears him say something in response, but she's already out of the foreign lands. Task: (technically) failed.

*** She tucks her hair behind her ear a lot. The right one. Or she's been told. She's never actually picked up on it herself. Her hand holding a pen, a paper in front of her. She's only doodling various dresses, dresses she would like to own, dresses she would like to create. She might have been a designer if things were different, but even then, she isn't sure if that would have been the right thing to do. She's supposed to go to law school in the fall and be a lawyer because that's what she was always supposed to do. You are most certainly coming up with assumptions now, something like: "her parents are forcing her into it" or another cliched idea like "she's doing it to honour her late late grandfather Walt who was a lawyer back in the day". Guess what? She isn't doing any of that. Her grandfather's name is not Walt either. It's only something she's always talked about, the only thing she could see herself doing. Fancy blazers, marvellous court rooms... It all seemed extremely Audrey-like. At least, that's who Audrey Claire was at school. She never picked up on it before, just like she never picked up on the hair thing, but Audrey doesn't know how to be Audrey without school. You must think she's mad. Well, she ought to be. Who in their right mind misses school assignments and studying for exams and writing three page essays? Yes, she's going to college to learn, but it's not the same, isn't it? It's more about her future and less about getting gold stars for the sake of her future. And now, when she earned her future, she doesn't have to earn any more gold stars. That's supposed to be a good thing. That is a good thing. The drawings are nice. Fairly simple, but quite nice. She picks them all up and throws them in the pink trash can beside her desk. It's not like anybody is coming to check them out. Audrey crosses her arms, let's herself fall even deeper into the chair and closes her eyes. Next thing she knows, she's dreaming of stars. *** "She's spinning and spinning and spinning. Her dress swirling around her, her feet barely touching the ground. The grass is so green and the sun is so bright and she is spinning. People have forgotten about the beauty of the natural world but she never did. She's coming from whenever, breathing in wherever, she's dreaming of a different age. She's spinning and spinning and spinning and whole, entire, wonderful worlds are spinning along with her." Audrey Claire doesn't know why and how she ended up here. The only thing she's aware of are the words that Revelius Sparks is sharing with her and the rest of the room. She's surprised that the town theatre is open this late in the night, but then again, she's never been to one. Not as a (theoretical) adult at least. Revelius Sparks is sitting on the very edge of the stage, his leg rhythmically swaying to a beat she presumes must be the one only he is able to hear. She can't quite figure out if he's singing, reciting or acting. It might be all three. Once he's finished with his little performance, he gets up, adjusts his funny colourful scarf and smiles. The few people that are in the room are clapping, but it's obvious that he's not smiling at them. It's not that he's smiling "at no one in particular" either. It's more like he's smiling at something that should be there but tragically isn't. Audrey doesn't get up from her seat. Not even when everyone else is gone. She can't move. All she can do is think about these people and how they all were in here together for one fleeting moment. All breathing the same air, all hearing the same words. And now they all went home. They all went home to hear different words and breath different air. They all went home a tad bit different. They all went home and she's still there. *** Audrey keeps visiting the theatre. Her appearances aren't scheduled. Her legs simply decide that the only correct option is to bring her there and she goes along with it and she comes and each time she discovers another way to listen. Another way to be.

Sometimes, she doesn't even pay attention to the meaning of the words spoken by whoever is on stage. It all sounds wonderfully interesting, and the chairs are so wonderfully comfortable and she's so wonderfully there. She isn't the one to explain it, but it feels quite important. Doing something without a clear purpose. Revelius isn't always present. But when he is, he talks? sings? recites? about endless fields full of flowers, souls too free to be kept away and voices too long forgotten not to be heard. Those are all his descriptions and she remembers them because she's good at remembering and she even writes some of them down. She doesn't try to understand them and never does she go through them once they are written. But something about notebooks filled with various little words makes her feel happy and content. Revelius refers to himself as a "wanderer of flowery youths and incadescent hearts". Audrey thinks his "stage name" has no right being that long and of course she finds it (almost) unbearably preposterous but it's also kind of funny and pronouncing it out loud, when she's all alone with nobody but herself to hear, brings her immense joy. It reminds her of all those poems she had to learn for school. She never properly meets Revelius. They never talk, she never looks for him and he never notices her (or anybody else for that matter) while he's fulfilling his duty as a wanderer. They never randomly run into each other. They never have a deep conversation that magically resolves all of their respective issues. They never watch the sunset, buy each other sweet unnecessary expensive things or kiss in the rain till they're both out of breath. They never fall in love. The truth is, Audrey doesn't feel the need to meet him. She's just really really glad that he's around. *** She's dressed in black, but her freshly discovered scarf is screaming in bright yellow. The sidewalk is wet and slippery. People are walking, shouting, running, talking and exchanging. Moving. Her sparkling red suitcase is following her and her brand new shoes are ruined. Her feet are completely soaked. Her hair is a bit messy. She can feel tangled strands of it all over her face. She wasn't expecting rain today. But then again, she didn't exactly plan on paying a visit to the train station, let alone catching an actual train. The city looks different once fall comes. The leaves are crunchy and dressed in various colours. The air is colder. Everyone's cheeks are flushed. Once fall comes, people turn into portable paintings. Audrey takes a few seconds to admire the unlikely art exhibit. Her hand moves to position the scarf around her neck. Too tightly wrapped and a bit crooked it was, she thinks. Exactly three minutes pass and she's in the train, glittery notebook in hand. She doesn't open it, but she recalls the coordinates of each and every word gracing its pages. "What a wonderful collection of incadescent hearts...", she mummers under her breath and the woman across from her shots her a confused look, but Audrey doesn't notice any of it. She's too busy experiencing creations much more pleasant. She lets her head rest against the window frame.

And when her gaze welcomes the glorious landscape on the other side of the glass, her eyes are full of gold coloured stars. "You are beautiful and sad" I said finally, not looking at him when I did. "Just like your eyes. You're like a song I heard when I was a little kid, but forgot I knew until I heard it again." - Maggie Stiefvater

#scrapbooks of flowers #art #music #coming of age #ocs #my writing #flowers #flower meanings #youth

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doctorreids · 4 years

Text

folklore - spencer reid x reader

CHAPTER ONE - the 1

next chapter

summary: reader sees spencer on the opposite platform of her subway station and can’t help but reflect on two memories on why she believed he was the one.

a/n: send me an ask to be a part of my taglist!

word count: 2,270

“and if you wanted me, you really should’ve showed. and if you never bleed, you’re never going to grow.”

The apartment felt completely empty. It has been now for weeks. Despite the fact that they used to come and go in the mornings, the sound of the shower running and the coffee machine brewing did nothing to fill the void of his voice floating through the apartment.

Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to turn on the radio or television to drown out the silence that has been following her for months now.

3 months, 2 weeks and 3 days to be exact.

The cool, autumnal breeze swept through her hair as she walked to the subway. The leaves on the trees turn to fiery shades of red, orange and gold, brightening up the grey sky. The pavement shines with the remains of last night's rainfall, the hustle and bustle of early morning carrying her to the station. This time of year has always been her favourite, the transformation of each season amazes her but there is not feeling quite like crunching leaves beneath your feet, or watching them slowly fall from their trees in the breeze.

He loves this time of year too.

She’s been trying to convince herself that she’s alright without him, that she’s turning over a new leaf, but each day it gets harder and harder to fight the urge to call him. Then she reminds herself of all the times he failed to show that he truly wanted her, wanted her to listen and to hold his hand; all the times he failed to take down his walls, let himself open the floodgates and to grow with her. He failed to change with the seasons. Yet, she wants nothing more to hear the soft timbre of his voice, the tone he only ever used with her. Once again, she has to remind herself that that’s gone too.

Her stop was relatively empty for this time of the morning. Just a few early-risers like herself yawning into their to-go coffee cups, flicking through this morning's newspaper. The platform always echoed at this time of day, no sound other than soft conversations and the occasional announcement from the speaker.

She didn’t like mornings until she met him. Now she rises early, usually getting into work a while before everyone else. She tries to shake those thoughts from her head but lifting her head from the ground she looks to the other platform.

She looks right at him.

She knows it’s not him, he lives in the opposite direction, but her mind is telling her that the messy mop of brown hair, the suit jacket and cardigan combo, is really him on the other platform.

The rumbling vibrations of the approaching train snapped her out of her reverie. Shaking her head, she got onto the train knowing that her day was going to be filled with paperwork and fighting how much she yearned to give him a smile.

“roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool. and if my wishes had come true, it would have been you.”

It was very rarely that the two of them had time off from work but when they did, they spent it together. Walking around DC, going to the Smithsonian or visiting old bookshops across town. It was dusk by the time they got to the memorial. The sky swirled with pinks, reds and puffy white clouds. It reminded her of an old saying her Dad would tell her on the drive home from her Grandmother’s House.

‘Red sky at night, shepherd’s delight. Red sky in the morning, shepherd’s warning.’ It had no significant meaning, he only said it to make her laugh and for some reason it always did.

They had been together for a few months by then, but it felt like forever to them.

The sun hit the pool opposite the memorial, the pink sky etched into the water as the sun made its daily descent. His cardigan was hooked over her shoulders and her hand wrapped up in his.

“Spencer?”

“Yes, my love.”

She smiled at the pet name. He never used them very often.

“Can we make a wish?”

“Always.” He began fishing in his pockets for loose change. Smiling, he handed her a quarter and kept one for himself.

“You know, throwing coins into fountains stems from the practice of presenting gifts to Gods to either appease the Gods, or as payment for a request or prayer. This can be seen as the earliest version of making a wish. European folklore, specifically Germanic and Celtic traditions, used the term wishing wells as offerings to their gods for water.”

She hummed in response, his lyrical voice calming her. She loved that he was an endless fountain of knowledge, she only wished she could give him something in return for all the little facts he gave her.

Closing her eyes, she tossed the quarter into the pool, wishing for the man beside her to remain there. Always. Watching her coin become smaller and smaller and sunk into the depths, she watched as he did the same. The ripples of his quarter disrupted the glass-like pool as it fell opposite to her coin.

Her laughter broke through the silence.

“What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing, I’m just… really happy.”

He grinned, “Me too. Though, I must ask, what did you wish for?”

Smugly, she replied, “Now, if I tell you it won’t come true.” The twinkle in her eye told him all he needed to know.

The two walked on, arms intertwined as they walked to the music their laughs made mixed together.

She’d never admit to anyone but she wished he was the one.

Thinking back on that date, she now knows that wasn’t true.

“we were something, don’t you think so? rose flowing with your chosen family, and it would have been sweet.”

That night at Rossi’s was the last time she remembers being happy with him.

That was 4 months ago.

Pulling on that red dress that Spencer loved, she watched as JJ, Emily and Penelope got themselves ready. With Rossi’s dinner falling on the same night as their scheduled girl’s night, they had to compromise.

“Pen! You look beautiful!” Her friend truly was glowing, her dress a bright orange and her hair curled to perfection.

“Thank you, goddess divine, I must say red is truly your colour.”

“You’re too kind, Pen!”

She felt truly happy. Surrounded by her friends, they were more sisters than they would ever be work colleagues. They were each other’s biggest supporters, always there to lift each other up and help each other when things weren’t the best. Together they were one big chosen family. They were her safety blanket when things felt out of control.

Tonight is going to be good, she kept telling herself. She hadn’t seen Spence in a while, outside of work. They’ve been almost too busy to find a moment to just be with each other - no geographical profiling or paperwork. All they wanted was to be able to sit down and watch a movie, or an episode of Doctor Who without thinking of work or worrying about another urgent case.

Looking over at JJ, who looked radiant as ever, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of overwhelming sense of belonging. JJ made everyone welcome, so did Pen. Something she never really found anywhere else, from school to her jobs before working for the BAU, and now she’s found that belonging she was so desperately searching for.

Emily was an enigma though. Her closest friend, they were both so similar. They failed to let most people in, but after years of holding those walls up they eventually have to come down or are broken down by someone else. They broke down each other’s walls. Emily was always there when she needed reassurance, and likewise although Emily rarely needed it.

She found all she dreamt of as a teenager; a chosen family. All of them were pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly together.

It was not secret by now that Rossi loved to cook, and that JJ would almost certainly go if there was a promise of wine. So dinner parties became a fixture every once and a while with Hotch at the helm of persuading and convincing Rossi to have another. It was always another opportunity to pick up a new recipe to try out at home for Jack.

Walking in, they were met with wolf whistles and compliments from Morgan (which was to be expected anyways) and a rare smile from Hotch. She was not anticipating Spencer to be there early but there he was.

He caught her eye as soon as she walked in, looking her up and down and giving her a shy smile.

“Hey, you.”

“Hey, yourself.” She replies, her eyes full of love and joy. “You look very handsome tonight.”

“Why, thank you. You look beautiful as always.”

Just a small compliment gives her butterflies. They’ve been together for over a year and have known each other for years yet it feels as though she’s a teenager every time he smiles; she’s taken back to the days of high school crushes, school dances and hearts in notebooks. She gives him a small thank you and her brightest smile as they wrap their arms around each other, taking in the other’s warmth. The only word she could use to describe the comfort of his embrace was home. She was home in his arms.

The night went on as it usually did; full of laughter, food and happiness. Memories they would all hold onto until they couldn’t anymore. It made their job easier to know that they could always find happiness within each other.

Out on the porch, everything was still, Spencer’s suit jacket was wrapped around her body. Everything about the night was perfect. To put it in the simplest terms, she was truly happy.

Falling asleep next to Spencer was the easiest part of her day, the gentle rise and fall of his chest and the sound of his soft breathing lulled her to sleep with the biggest smile on her face.

She had the one in her arms and she never intended to let him go. And neither did he.

Funny how life turns out.

“I persist and resist the temptation to ask you, if one thing had been different, would everything be different today?”

Throwing her work back down at the front door of her cold, lonely apartment was now routine. No more laughter walking into the threshold of her home, or the smell of freshly brewed coffee from his cup. Just loneliness.

Photos had been taken down, the memories too painful to walk by every day, and with nothing to replace them with, the tables, walls and fridge lay bare of any memory of what once was. Pulling out leftovers from last night’s dinner, she waits for the low ding of the microwave as she steps out of her shoes and jacket. Cooking, even three months on, is lonely now too since they used to do it together. But she supposes, they did everything else together too.

She opens another cheap bottle of wine. It’s Friday, Saturday can deal with her hangover.

Tucking her legs into her chest, she cradles the glass of wine in one hand. The orange glow of the streetlights below illuminate her living room. Staring out into the street, she feels it again. That aloneness. It comes and goes in waves, but like any wave when it hits you, it stuns you. It’s a cold and dark feeling. No longer does she feel the ghost of his arms wrapped around her at night, or the grip of his hand in hers. Now, there’s nothing.

Just her and what could have been.

She often asks herself that if things had been different, if they had just talked to one another, what would today have looked like. But then she thinks that’s no use, things would have stayed the same. She changed with the seasons, he didn’t.

Hindsight is a beautiful thing, but it can’t help her now.

She wonders about what he would change. If there was one thing that he would do differently. She also wonders about what he wouldn’t change and what he really wanted.

Did he ever dream of settling down someday? She was never one for a white picket fence life but he made her want it so desperately. Did he ever dream about seeing her in a white dress or running around a garden with a child? Did he ever think about what they would name their kids? Did he ever want any of that?

Sometimes she thought all he wanted was a constant until something better came along. Maybe, she thought, he believed that what they had was always going to be an end table. That one of them would give up and it would be over as soon as it started.

The red liquid swirled around the glass as she tried to resist the temptation to call him, to ask him these questions, to apologise. Finishing it off, she grabs her phone, unlocks it and clicks his contact.

She could never bring herself to change his contact photo. It was a picture of them back in August of last year. Sun-kissed with honeymoon love struck eyes, the photo still made her smile despite all the pain.

She let her finger hover over the button.

Maybe she would get her answers tonight.

#spencer reid #spencer #reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #reidxfolklore

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 3 years

Text

True Forms in the Stars

Now on AO3! “True Forms in the Stars” - A @do-it-with-style-events Reverse Bang fic, written by me, based on art by @larkartwolf !

Months after the Apocalypse, Aziraphale and Crowley are slowly working their way towards their happy ending. But a series of nightmares remind them of pains long buried, which can no longer be ignored. If there is to be any hope for a better future, they must first confront the scars of their past.

Read it now on AO3! (includes full image of artwork)

(The full fic is about 12.5k; the first few scenes are below.)

Aziraphale took Crowley’s hands in his. “Are you ready?”

“No.”

His eyes darted up, trying to meet Crowley’s, but once again the demon had turned away, jaw tight, rocking back on his heels. “I thought—”

“No, just – just...hold on…”

Crowley pulled his hands free and shook them, rubbing at the back of his neck as he walked away, circling the entire bookshop in a few long, quick steps. Aziraphale could almost feel the nervous energy radiating off him.

“Would you be more comfortable sitting down? Or if we returned to your flat? Or—”

“I don’t think I’m going to be comfortable anywhere.” He raked long fingers through bright red hair, briefly piling it all onto his head before letting it tumble loose around his ears again. “What if it all goes wrong?”

The angel pressed his lips together, forcing down his own anxiety. Crowley needed him now, his strength, his support. Fortunately, Aziraphale had a lot of experience burying his doubts, presenting a confidence he didn’t feel.

“Of course it won’t,” Azirpahale chided gently, stepping up to Crowley, reaching for his hand. “I’ll be there, right beside you.” But Crowley just shook his head, turning further away. “Look at me, Crowley. Tell me what you’re afraid of. Tell me what you think might go wrong.”

“Everything!” Crowley stumbled back, pulling away, to stand in the center of the shop again. The panic was back in his eyes, wide and golden, irises expanding as if to devour the sclera. It wasn’t quite fear, nor pain, nor uncertainty that filled them, but some combination of the three, perhaps something greater, too. He’d be reaching for his glasses in a moment.

This time, Aziraphale moved more slowly, closing the distance, resting just a few fingers lightly by Crowley’s elbow. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...we don’t have to do this tonight.”

Crowley lifted his head to stare through the glass dome of the shop at the stars: miraculously bright, shining like diamonds, like beacons in the black night. He ached, and Aziraphale’s heart ached to see it.

“I don’t…” Crowley cleared his throat. “I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

Aziraphale slid his hand down to meet Crowley’s, lacing their fingers together, and squeezed.

The dreams started shortly after the failed Apocalypse.

Just glimpses of the stars at first, a sense of drifting through them as he once had, so many eons ago that Crowley had all but forgotten.

But each night the dreams grew more vivid.

In his dreams he could see the stars, brilliant lights burning in the aether, inner fires swirling and pulsing like a storm. They sang to each other, they sang to their Starmaker, and Crowley’s heart sang back.

He dreamt of racing through them in his true form, a blazing streak of light lined with wings of fire, long body swirling in his wake like the tail of a comet, like fiery hair caught in the wind. Arcing around planets, setting their atmospheres to swirl and dance. Trailing his fingers through nebulae, creating columns a hundred light years long. Cupping the stars in his hands to breathe life into them, guiding them through their endless dance, their eternal journey.

“So...you’re remembering your time in Heaven.” Aziraphale sat back in his armchair, cup of tea still halfway to his lips. He hadn’t taken a sip in so long that Crowley was sure the angel had forgotten it was there; but the steam still curled past his face, like a veil, a gauzy curtain separating angel and demon.

Crowley looked away, frowning into his own cup of coffee, watching the cream create a bright spiral against the dark background.

He hadn’t wanted to say anything. For months, he’d kept it a secret.

Beautiful months, free of demands and pressure and fear. Days spent on long drives and longer walks, evenings filled with arguments and laughter, sipping wine and speaking of everything and nothing, awash with the simple joy of being together. Sometimes Aziraphale would slide onto the sofa beside him, and more than once Crowley had taken his hand, or rested an arm across his shoulders.

Nearly every night now, Crowley fell asleep on that sofa, drifting off to the sound of angelic humming from amongst the shelves, or the feel of soft fingers brushing through his hair.

Slowly, bit by bit, they broke down walls, building something better in their place.

But as the walls came down, things were revealed. Memories. Emotions. Thoughts perhaps better left unthought.

Crowley woke from his dream every morning distressed, panicked, sometimes crying out, or scrambling to grab at pillows, blankets, anything nearby. And Aziraphale hadn’t failed to notice.

“Not exactly,” Crowley finally conceded. “I’m not...building the stars in my dreams. It’s more like I’m...tending them.” He downed the entire cup of coffee in one gulp, feeling it burn down his throat. Considered miracling up another.

“I’m not sure I follow. Surely it’s the same thing.”

“Nnh. Not really, it’s…” It was something he’d never spoken of, had never even considered explaining to another; and now that he had to, Crowley found he didn’t know what to say. Some things could only be felt, not spoken. “I guess it’s two parts of the same thing, but different. During Creation we…made things, put elements together and…” he waved his arms vaguely. “We created, alright? That’s the job I had. But afterwards… Someone had to watch over the stars. Take care of them. Help them continue to grow.”

“Like a gardener.”

Nodding, Crowley refilled his cup, this time adding something stronger than cream and sugar to the coffee. “That’s what I dream about. The job I was supposed to have. After Creation. If I’d never Rebelled.”

“Tending the stars,” Aziraphale mused, finally setting his cup and saucer onto the desk. He leaned forward – stiffly, as he sometimes did when he’d sat still for too long – and rested his hands on his knees, carefully thinking over his next words.

They’d been circling the topic for weeks now, Aziraphale never quite asking a question, Crowley refusing to give any straight answers. A quiet, polite contest of wills that had ended abruptly when Crowley broke first. Since when was Aziraphale the patient one? When had he learned to keep his eyes so neutral? Every gesture made with such care, as if afraid to scare Crowley off.

Well, he had reason enough. Crowley’s whole body seemed to vibrate with energy, ready to run at any moment. Crowley didn’t know how telling Aziraphale was supposed to help, but if something didn’t change soon…

The angel tapped a finger against his own knee, thinking it all over. “The entire galaxy, you say. That’s...quite a large estate.”

“I guess.” Crowley squirmed in his seat.

“You must have been very important, to be granted such responsibility.”

“Who cares?” Crowley bit off the rest of his angry retort, sprawling back on the sofa, putting more space between them. His head rapped against the bookshelf behind him as he tilted it back, staring at the ceiling. “Didn’t count for shit, once I started asking questions.”

“They punished you.”

“Is that news?” snapped the Fallen. He could almost hear the voices, raised in argument. Feel the hands of Michael’s warriors, dragging him off to—

Fuck. There was a reason he never talked about this.

“They isolated me,” he went on, once his voice was under control. “From the other Starmakers. Pretty early on, long before there was any talk of...Exile or Rebellion. Said they didn’t want me giving the others ideas.” He closed his eyes, trying to remember the thin, clear music of the spheres. “They thought I’d be more obedient if they took away my stars. Just gave me more time to think, really.”

“I…see.” A long pause, silence broken only by the weight of a thousand books slowly settling onto their shelves. “Then...you’ve been alone for a very long time.” Crowley shrugged. In an even softer voice, Aziraphale asked: “Are you still alone in your dreams?”

“No.” His memories turned away from reality, and Crowley’s heart sped up in his chest. “No, I’m not…”

“Oh, my word!” Aziraphale’s voice reverberated across Crowley’s skin, sank deep into muscle, flitted around his mind like a cloud of fireflies. Crowley twisted, weaving his body between the stars of a binary system, letting the wings brush through solar flares, sending flashes of light swirling across the star system.

He smiled down at the Principality cupped in his hand, golden body glowing in a faint reflection of starlight.

The two wings Aziraphale wore down his back were shorter and broader than the ones he wore on Earth, more like feathered butterfly wings than those of a swan. More short wings stretched from wrist to elbow, and a feathery crown circled his brow in place of eyes and ears, marking him as a Principality. Two interlocking halos surrounded Aziraphale’s head, slowly turning, dozens of eyes in every shape and color gazing in wonder across Creation.

“Can you hear the music?” Crowley asked, twisting away through the immense void between one star and the next. “It’s everywhere, even all the way out here.”

The starsong wasn’t just something you heard, it was something you felt and saw, a symphony of heat and microwave radiation and stellar winds, things only the highest choirs of angels were able to perceive. So Crowley sang as he flew, shifting his colors, translating the song for Aziraphale.

“It sounds like something Bach would write,” the angel laughed, hands gripping Crowley’s thumb like the mast of a ship. “Sebastian, I mean, or possibly—”

Crowley bent his long head closer, singing more insistently, breath ruffling Aziraphale’s feathers. The Principality laughed again, resting a hand on Crowley’s cheek and trying to sing along. He could feel Aziraphale’s joy and wonder surging through his veins.

“There!” Crowley’s deep voice reverberated between the stars, even as his chest continued to hum in harmony with them. “It’s another of mine!” He pointed at the nebula, greens and yellows and reds stretching across a quarter of the sky. “Let me show you.”

He turned his wings, arching around the nearest star, dragging his fingers through the corona, gathering just a pinch of brilliant starfire.

“I can’t believe you made all this,” Aziraphale said breathlessly, trying to take in the scope of it all, the forest of clouds that could swallow entire systems.

“Well, I had a little help,” Crowley conceded, offering the starfire. Aziraphale accepted it in a flutter of wings, a miniature sun almost too big for him to carry, and cradled it against his chest.

Crowley pulled the Principality closer, cradling him in much the same way – feeling again the delicate touch of one hand wrapped around his finger – then tucked his many wings and dove, the glowing beauty of the galaxy shooting past on either side. When Aziraphale gasped, it sent a thrill of pleasure straight to Crowley’s heart.

Together they spun through the nebula, columns of gas and stellar nurseries on either side. They raced against comets, skimmed over gas giants, darted from one constellation to the next.

When the black hole at the center of it all loomed close, Crowley snapped open a pair of wings – and another – and another, catching the surge of radiation, riding it up, up, up in slow circles until the entire Milky Way was laid out below them, until the emptiness around them was lit by the glow of a thousand galaxies.

“Oh, Crowley,” sighed the angel, face illuminated by the ball of starfire like frosted glass over a candle. “It’s all so...beautiful.”

“Yeah.” He lifted Aziraphale so that his many eyes could take it all in, but Crowley’s own gaze never left his smile. “It’s all yours, Angel. Anywhere you want to go.”

“That sounds...lovely,” sighed Aziraphale from across the room.

“Shut up.” Crowley glared at a small potted plant next to the register, which sheepishly straightened its stem. “Sounds...cheesy. Stupid. Like something out of a romance movie, and not even one of the good ones with clever writing.”

“Well, yes. It does.” The sofa shifted under a new weight, and two soft hands enveloped Crowley’s right, drawing it to rest on Aziraphale’s knee. “It also sounds lovely.”

Crowley grunted. His eyes had made their way from the ceiling to the floor, and now he studied how the faded carpet contrasted with the rich brown boards.

The past few months, they’d been able to communicate openly, freely, like never before. They’d been able to be honest with each other, gently circling around the things they really wanted to say, finding the words a few at a time. There was no rush. They had eternity.

But being honest with Aziraphale opened Crowley to being honest with himself, in ways he’d never imagined, in ways he’d come to regret.

He was consumed by emotions.

Crowley always presented himself as superficial, a demon who liked things fast and fresh and cool, jumping from one fashion to the next. It was easier to survive if everyone assumed there was nothing below the surface, no hidden plans or desires that might cause trouble for his superiors. It was easier to live with himself if he pretended not to have hidden depths, that his future contained no hopes, that his past was free of scars.

But Crowley had always felt deeply. And he could no longer deny who he was.

He’d lost all control of them, the complex emotions that, finally released from their cages, threatened to swallow him whole. Fears that couldn’t be contained by words. Losses too deep for him to fully grasp. And a millennia-long desire that moved out of the realm of language entirely.

He wondered how much Aziraphale had suspected. He’d honestly expected the angel to say something first, months ago, release a torrent of emotions in a few carefully selected words. Had something held him back? Or had he just been unsure of Crowley’s feelings?

Well, he’d have a pretty good picture of things after hearing the dream. Crowley stared at the floor ahead of him, heat rising in his face, knowing it was coming, waiting for Aziraphale to ask, to question, to demand Crowley cram everything he felt into three little words that would never contain it all…

Instead, Aziraphale squeezed his hand again and gently prodded: “Tell me the rest.”

“What rest? I wake up.” Crowley’s legs had gone tense. He needed to pace, to shake off the feelings bubbling up inside, but he wasn’t willing to relinquish that warm grip just yet. “I snap back to reality. Dream over.” A quick glance to the side, enough to see Aziraphale wasn’t buying it. “That’s all. The end. Nothing to tell.”

“Please.” One hand held Crowley’s steadily while the other gently pressed his shoulder. “I’ve seen how upset you are when you wake.”

“Ngk. I just—” Panic started clawing its way up his throat. “Probably – don’t want to drink your lousy coffee, you think of that?”

“Crowley.”

“S’nothing! You just – that’s how people are when they wake up. Demons, too. It’s, it’s disorienting, is what it is. You should try it sometime instead of – whatever you do all night.”

“Crowley.”

“Mgrf. And especially if I fall off your bloody sofa, happens – all the time, right? Why don’t you get – get something comfortable if you want me here? Crack my head on the floor first thing, that’ll upset someone.”

“Crowley…”

“Stop, just stop!” He leapt to his feet and tried to stalk away, but the back room left nowhere to go. With a huff, Crowley spun around, arms wide. “Fine. You want the truth?”

Aziraphale still sat on the sofa, hands folded on his lap, endlessly patient. “That’s all I want.”

Read the rest on AO3!

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wowtobio · 4 years

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hello, i was wondering if i could get some headcanons for nishinoya, kuroo, terushima, and bokuto calming down an very upset s/o? like upset to the point of stomachaches / crying. i live in america, and i’ve been extremely upset w/ everything going on rn(riots + police brutality) because of how corrupt america is as a country + how discriminatory it can be towards minorities. if you’re uncomfortable writing for this i COMPLETELY understand! whichever way, tysm. 💓💓💓

.｡*ﾟKuroo, Nishinoya, Terushima and Bokuto calm down their crying s/o｡:+*

black lives matter

i know how upsetting this situation is, i also live in america so please know you are not alone. we will pull through this together. i am so sorry you feel so upset, i hope this helps ease the pain just a bit. know you’re loved.

genre: slight angst, fluff

Kuroo

(credits to all gif makers)

Kuroo literally drops everything he does/has upon seeing your curled up, crying form on the wooden floors. Literally.

He brought home take out after practice to share with you, the delicious food enshrouded in plastic containers dropped and long forgotten the moment your pained cries reached his ears. He drops his duffle bag too, possibly on top of the spoiled food. But, he does not care.

You felt like today was a bad day, you woke up not feeling your best. Trudging through school, showcasing your beautiful smile to your boyfriend and others only to ignore and hide the gnawing pain you felt deep down in your gut. Upon coming home, you still tried to hold it all in, but failed.

Falling hard onto your knees, bruises for sure going to form the next day, you sob loud into your hands. The searing pain in your chest and heart did not help. The hot tears flowed freely down, nothing could stop them. You cried so hard you felt bile coming from the back of your throat, threatening to let loose all over the floor of your room.

Kuroo’s never seen you like this before, but he doesn’t speak a word. Immediately by your side, practically picking you up and squeezing you into his strong arms.

He would probably place his hand on the back of your head, keeping your head burrowed in his firm chest while stroking your hair softly to calm you down.

He whispers sweet nothings in your ear, no pressure to stop your crying, he allows you to let it all out. He makes it clear that it is okay to cry when he’s around. Kuroo just wants you to feel comfortable to show this side to him, because ehe wants to love all sides.

Kuroo will sit there with you in his arms for as long as possible, as long as you need. You could cry all night and he wouldn’t voice a single complaint. And as your loud sobs transition into quiet sniffles and hiccups, Kuroo still has his gentle, patient demeanor. He’ll order new takeout, specifically your favorite, he will ask you what’s wrong only if you want to talk to him about it, and he will end the night with cuddles and kisses until you both fall asleep into each others arms.

Nishinoya

Ah, poor baby would definitely freak out.

Seeing you break down on the floor, he wouldn’t know what to do at first. Noya would probably just stand at the doorway, eyes wide and just frozen in place. Eventually it hits him:

“DUDE YOUR S/O IS CRYING G O O O”

And he’s right by your side in the speed of light. However, his hands tremble slightly when he tries to wrap them around your shoulders. He’s so so unsure awwwh.

Soon enough he will hug you, patting your back lightly while kissing the top of your head and lightly saying out attempts to halt your crying like “hey, don’t cry baby” or “you’re too pretty to cry! please don’t :(”

I can totally see Nishinoya try to make funny faces or crack a joke in attempt to see your smile again. As much as you love him, you just couldn’t bring yourself to stop your searing tears.

He lowkey might cry himself

You would peak your head out of your chest, only to squint and cringe at the bright light flowing throughout the room which did the opposite of soothing the throbbing pain from your head from crying so much.

Noya notices this and jumps up, practically scrambling just to switch the light off and you giggle lightly at his actions, the sound going unnoticed by the libero. After smacking the light off, he jumps for joy at your giggles, which elicited more from you.

“YAAAY (Y/N)-CHAAAAN! Are you feeling any better baby?”

Wordlessly nodding, you open up your arms like a toddler and he gets the notion, hopping into your hugs and squeezing the living life out of you while showering you with compliments and kisses of course.

Terushima

Terushima is very playful, and not so serious in most situations. But not in this one.

Whereas Kuroo is very gentle and Nishinoya is more shy, Terushima is more controlling of the situation.

He wouldn't freak out, he wouldn’t try to hush your cries either. He would just hold you into his arms whispering comforting words to calm you down like “hey babe, you’re gonna be okay” or “baby you’re strong don’t stress it”

He use his thumb to wipe your endless tears away, face in his hands as he stares deeply into your bloodshot eyes. His expression is unreadable before he closes the space between you two and kiss you deeply.

You almost cry harder, but his thumbs are still there to wipe your under-eyes. He kisses you passionately, filling your sense with just Terushima. His scent, his warmth, his everything. It soothes both the aching in your chest and in your head.

He rubs the side of your hips, breaking the kiss to give you a breathe before immediately locking lips once again. He is definitely more intimate and bold with his comforting. But that’s why you love him.

Once your cries calm down, he’ll have his playful, almost teasing tone again. Only because he knows how much you love it. And, he’s not going to change anything for your sake, he’ll just be himself.

Despite your disheveled hair, your tear stained cheeks and snot practically running from your nose, it amazes you how he can still look at you with the same adoration and love he has for you.

“Hey princess, you look gorgeous as ever haha.”

Bokuto

He. is. so dramatic.

“(Y/N)-CHAAN ARE YOU OKAAAAY??” before running by your crumpled up form.

He probably thought you were hurt at first, since you were curled up in a ball, crying.

You felt extremely upset at the turn of events, the protests, the riots, oppression, everything. It hurt immensely seeing people treated unequally and you just couldn't take it anymore. After watching another protest video where many innocent people were fighting for their voices to be heard, only to be tear-gassed by the police. It just broke your heart. You let your tears flow for those who got shut down and you sobbed hard. So hard to the point you were clutching onto your stomach.

Bokuto is very frantic, and it does not calm you down much. He’s throwing question after question while he waves his arms around wildly. He notices how you continue to cry, and he just stops and realizes what he has to do. He heard akaashi’s voice in the back of his head to shut up and assess the situation

So, he calms himself down before he attempts to calm you. Gingerly wraps his arms around you, his strong arms snap you out of your crying state and you just still into his being. He rubs your back lovingly, kissing your tears away.

Since he noticed you clutching your belly earlier, he’s rubbing and massaging your stomach gently and it eases your tense muscles. You naturally calm from his embrace.

Like Nishinoya, he’ll try to say something to brighten up the situation and make you smile. Bokuto’s energy just naturally makes anyone light up along with him, and it does not fail this time. He shoots you his signature wide grin while voicing out his love and support for you. And once you smile back at him, he just grabs ahold of your hand, giving it a tight squeeze and says

“Hey hey hey! That’s my girl.”

Text “FLOYD” at 551-56 to sign a petition to punish the cops involved with George Floyd’s MURDER

Donate here to help support the black lives matter moment:

https://secure.actblue.com/donate/ms_blm_homepage_2019

And here’s a link of what more you could do:

https://docs.google.com/document/u/0/d/1Ra1crnSHFzgznux5BBPuFkd-7vCo7YAPCeIWZr3Ryjg/mobilebasic

Please do further research to donate and support this movement to help empower and give for those who need it.

Remember you have a voice, use it for yourself and others.

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heyitsrcoor · 3 years

Text

Meet-cute

Genre: Fluff, unrequited love, friends-to-lovers

Pairing: Day 6 Jae x Reader

Length: One-Shot

Meet-cute [noun] /ˈmiːtˌkjuːt/:

(in a movie, etc.) a humorous or interesting situation in which two people meet, that leads to them developing a romantic relationship with each other. (Cambridge Dictionary)

ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: Absolutely Smitten (Dodie Clark)

───────────────⚪───────────────────

◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►►⠀⠀ ⠀ 1:17 / 3:48 ⠀ ───○ 🔊⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ❐ ⊏⊐

•••

Your 12-hour shift at the hospital just ended. The census hasn’t gone down for days and while you’ve gotten so good at convincing yourself that you’re strong and resilient, you can feel the weariness seep in through your bones.

While walking to your apartment, you noticed that the bookstore on the corner of the street has finally opened its doors. A part of you wanted to walk past it, visit another day when you’re not wearing your nurse’s uniform, tired and sweaty. But the urge to scan the book selection was much stronger and so you find yourself pushing its glass doors. The bell chimes welcome you.

The warm lights and the smell of new books were enough to calm your weary soul. The bookstore was smaller compared to the well-known ones located at the malls, but it had the organic and cozy vibe of a library which you’re very much well pleased with. And the fact that it’s not crowded yet means you’ll be able to roam around freely.

You were feeling giddy when you finally reached the non-fiction section. Your eyes scanned each title, looking for any familiar ones that could be in your TBR list.

Finally, you see a white spine, “When Breath Becomes Air.” You grabbed for it hastily which caused the books beside it to topple down.

You bowed down to reach for the books but a hand beat you to it.

“Oh thank you.” You said as you stood upright. The person was really tall that you had to tilt your head a little bit to be able to see their face. You held your breath as you stood face-to-face with a handsome, bespectacled, human being.

“Was just looking for this.” He smiled as he held the book you accidentally dropped—Being Mortal by Atul Gawande.

You pretended to be cool about it like it’s not at all a big deal to meet your ideal guy (superficially speaking) in one of your most favorite places.

“Yeah? Sorry for accidentally pushing it to its death.” It sounded alright in your mind but having said it in words made you internally cringe.

He held the book and scanned it for dents. He shrugged, “Nah, it survived the fall—despite being mortal, oh God, that was so bad.” He let out a hearty laugh which you swore could melt an iceberg. “Anyway, thanks!” He smiles once more before turning his back.

Your heart deflated a little bit. Sharing a joke with a handsome stranger at the bookstore. Isn’t that the perfect recipe for a meet-cute? Except you’ll probably never meet again. Just another statistic of your “could-have-beens”.

Well, he could have asked for your name or YOU could have offered a book suggestion. Except he probably doesn’t find you attractive enough and you don’t have the guts to make the first move on a stranger.

You shrugged the thought away. Too much Kdramas and romcoms do screw your brain a little bit. You looked at your book once more. Right, maybe you should just fill your mind more with philosophies and thought-provoking stuff. Nonetheless, you can’t contain the smile forming on your face. Butterflies should stay in the gardens and not on your guts.

•••

When you said that book guy is just another statistic of a failed meet-cute, you were pleasantly surprised to find yourself wrong.

Two months later, you’re at a coffee shop waiting in line when you spot him sitting near the window.

He was wearing a white uniform, busy typing on the laptop in front of him. Unlike the scattered papers on his table, he looked serene. He adjusts his eyeglasses and you notice how slender and beautiful his fingers are.

“He’s a student.” You thought. Before you knew it, you started computing for your possible age gap. Given it has only been a year since you’ve graduated, 5 years would be the maximum gap if he’s a freshman. You cringed at the thought of dating someone younger. Moreover, you cringed at the thought that you’d actually date someone out of your league.

“Good morning! What’s your order?” The barista’s voice booms as if calling you out back to reality.

“Oh…yeah, uhh..” You proceeded to recite your order and another 5 orders of your co-nurses at SICU (Surgical Intensive Care Unit).

Waiting for your orders, you purposefully sat on a table that could give you the best vision of him in a very lowkey manner. Whatever that is.

You tried your best to be nonchalant but your eyes would subtly glance at him.

Oh wow, is that a great view from the window? You thought as you glide your eyes to where he was. To your surprise, he was looking at you too.

You dropped your gaze for a few seconds and looked up at him once again. He was smiling and your heart starts to palpitate.

Did he recognize you?

You watch him raise his hand, waving.

Entranced, you almost waved back but a person walks past you, her white skirt blocking your view of him. You watched her sit right in front of the book guy. Your book guy. She was wearing the same uniform as him. A classmate. A really pretty classmate.

You clenched your hand. You felt embarrassed, angry even. Angry at yourself for always expecting that someone would actually look at you. And stupid for thinking that meeting your soulmate would eventually be as exciting and memorable as the Kdramas.

The barista calls your name and you get up. You picked your orders and left without turning back.

•••

The thing about reality and romance is that not every encounter will be explosive. No, it won’t be as fast as love at first sight. Sometimes, love would come in the most mundane and gradual way possible.

A week later, you’d see book guy at your workplace. He’s one of the two med students on their clerkship assigned in your unit. He’d introduce himself as “Jae” and before you could do the same, he’d utter your name and everyone would be curious to know how you knew each other.

You’d dread the fact that he’d recognize your embarrassing moment at the coffee shop but he’d say that he actually recalls meeting you at the book store. And that he just read your name from your name tag.

Days, weeks passed.

Coincidence or not, your schedule would almost be the same and so you’d spend most of your shifts with Jae. You’d almost feel tired answering his seemingly endless questions.

You’d give him a heads up on what to expect on his first observation in the OR and he’d let you borrow a book in return.

You’d still catch yourself sneaking a glance at him but work would eventually drown his presence.

You’d sometimes spend your lunch together and you’d learn that you share the same taste of music and that he plays an instrument too.

You never seemed to run out of things to talk to and sometimes—a lot of times, you’d entertain that idea that he could actually like you.

But you knew that expectations lead to disappointments so you’d eventually settle your heart that whatever you had is just purely platonic friendship and you’d convince yourself that you are totally fine with that.

You thought that once he leaves your unit, whatever connection you had will mellow down. But then he asks for your number and his first text would be “Started benign in the morning, now I just assisted in delivering a baby. Is it normal to feel like crying?”

He’d send you memes about cats and your fave shows and soon you’d develop your inside jokes.

You tried your best to keep cool and ignore the butterflies but then something actually happens.

1 year later, he’d confess to you in the same coffee shop.

"I like you. I really like you." He said.

You’d be left speechless and be teary-eyed.

“How…? When?” You’d ask.

He said he could not forget how he was amused at your facial expression when you were picking your book at the bookstore. He said he would have stricken a longer conversation if not for his dad waiting on his car who was his ride at that time.

At the coffee shop, he noticed you while you recited the lengthy orders of your workmates and he was impressed.

He did smile at you but his classmate and partner in a school activity coincidentally arrived.

And no, he did not read your name tag. He knew about it when he heard the barista called you and he remembered.

When he saw the hospital he was interning at, he wondered if you’d be there. When he saw you at the unit he was first assigned at, his heart felt like it could jump out of his chest. He thought it was “fate” and it felt like fate because your schedules would usually coincide. He said knowing you more each day excites him and gives him joy. You were his kindred spirit and confidant. You just clicked.

And just like that, your unrequited-love streak comes to an end.

"Thank you." You answered and Jae's eyes started to quiver. He opens his mouth but no words came out.

Realizing your mistake you started to say sorry which made everything worse.

Jae forced himself to smile but you can see the pain in his eyes. He thought he was being rejected!

You took his right hand on the table and held it firmly. "I like you too, Jae."

His eyes widened and he started laughing.

"Oh God, I can't believe I'm capable of having 5 different kinds of emotions in less than 10 seconds."

"Cute," you muttered.

"Did you just call me cute!?"

You shook your head and smiled. "I mean... I guess you're my meet-cute after all."

-END-

#THAT WAS SO CHEEZY #i know #day6 #day6fanfic #day6 scenarios #day6au #meet cute #friends to lovers #day6 fanfic #day6 jae fanfic #day6 jae #park jaehyung

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