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#These idiots are gonna be the brain death of me
uncanny-heart · 5 months
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Everytime a character does something stupid I say I'm gonna throw them off a cliff.
This, however does not combine well with the fact that Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham from hit tv show Hannibal both routinely do horrendously idiotic things and have, infact, fallen off a cliff
so now everytime I say that about them my brain plays an involuntary laugh track and I cant stop it
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crownspeaksblog · 7 months
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One of my favorite (if not my favorite) admissions of love in fiction is Mark Darcys "i like you very much, just as you are" from Bridget Jones's Diary.
He tells her that he likes her but she interrupts him with oh apart from all of these awful things sbout me and starts listing things and mark just hits her with "just as you are"... not thinner, or better, or smarter, or more polite or more organized or successful.. just as she is, with all of her mess and imperfections, just as she fucking is!
The lyric "I've loved him, since he was born" during ed and stedes reunion is so "i like you very much, just as you are"!!!
Ed and stede are two people who've felt/been unloved for so much of their lives, childhood and adulthood. They (and even the world) hate parts of themselves, parts of themselves that the other absolutely fucking ADORES about them! They've loved eachother since they were born! They love who the other was, who the other is and who the other will be! Just as they are!!
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ectoplasmer · 1 year
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bloomic posting again sorry but uhh
screaming dying sdfkjhfdjkfhsdkjhfdskjhkjfdshjkds
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#HE'S PRETTY I HATE IT#i hate him and his stupidly big and pretty green irises and his laugh and his dumb jokes and#literally shaking him around like a squeaky toy it isn't funny anymore#you can let go of the dating sim love interest now brain!! please!!!!#what am i even gonna do with him. i don't know where to put him agdshgdjas#IT'S NOT LIKE I CAN JUST..... kick out the boys that'd be mean of me :(#AND THEY'RE STILL IN MY BRAIN i promise you all that i was going feral about marik like five minutes ago#but now the um. attention distribution is all over the place djhfjhd#one second i am screaming internally about the lost literary potential the bakurae had as a unit and what could've been done with their-#-connection to death and the next second i am shaking *gestures at post* this idiot around until we both get motion sickness#i just. aaaa. i don't knowww#and i'm not even sure if i *feel* anything towards this character#considering he *is* from a dating sim and so i might just. be over exaggerating this#he makes me feel. something though. loathing probably/j#do i need a crush. tag#wow typing that felt weird#this is all weird. what do i do. help >_<#my brain is gonna be mush with like six boys bouncing off the walls of it every five seconds#dvd screen saver or something up in there#and i have finals soon!! i am dreading that when i'm going to be having obvious brain rot#hhhh anyway i'm. gonna go to bed. and try and stop thinking about mr lawyer over there#goodnight tumblr <3#rainy.file#(art is from the game but the artist can be found on here @/robobarbie)
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brainrats · 2 years
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I always say acronyms wrong in my head… for example:
Jfk: jesus fucking christ
kys: kiss
so it ends up being like:
someone posting death threats: kys
me: oh they’re sending kisses! Cute *a fool*
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portgasu · 2 months
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(voice of a guy who is casually devastated by the numbers of a tumblr poll) no i'm fine haha it's cool i'm so normal rn lol don't worry about it
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chaos-mp3 · 3 months
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I was told that the 'healthy' dosage of caffeine is about 200 mg.
My science teacher was the one who told me since I pretty much have an energy drink a day in her class alone.
After doing the math I have now realized that I have been running on over 1,000 each day for a few months.
So, yeah how's everyone's Monday going?
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tootiecakes234 · 4 months
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Y/N taking care of sick Katsuki
“Katsuki can you please lay your ass down! You’re not going to work!” You say exasperated.
“ ‘ve gotta *disgusting ass sneeze* gotta go. People are dyin.” He says with his words slurred.
He’s been sick since last night and refused to take anything for it, saying it’d wear off by morning.
It hadn’t.
“ ‘Suki I’ve already called the agency and told them you weren’t going to be there. You can’t save anyone in this condition so please…. Just lay down.”
You’re trying to pull him back in the bed because when you left the room for 5 minutes the idiot had gotten up and “tried” to start getting ready.
“You did? What’d they say?” He asks as he lays back reluctantly sits down on the edge of the bed.
“They said they were so shocked and surprised you’d met a sickness that could put up a fight against your immune system. Apparently they took it serious because you’ve never taken a sick day before…. Surprise surprise.”
He slowly leans back into the pillows and fumbles underneath the covers while you tuck him in.
He’s running a fever and extremely congested. Poor thing can hardly sleep because of his nose.
You stand up straight heading to grab another blanket to lay on top of him when you feel his big, hot hand wrap around your wrist. Apparently his reflexes had not been slowed.
“Where ya goin?” He asks sounding a little sad.
It makes you smile.
“I’m just grabbing you another blanket.” And you rub your hands through his hair. He lets out a little sigh.
“And to get you medicine because you’ve gotta get that fever down before it starts to fry your brain. Ya can’t be a know-it-all if you start losing brain cells”
And then you know he wasn’t feeling good because there was no snarky remark to follow up and no resistance when you mentioned the medicine.
All he said was “hurry back” as his eyes fluttered closed.
You get to the medicine cabinet and read through everything there until you find something to treat his symptoms. Then you run to fridge, grab a cup of water and electrolyte packet and mix it together. And grab a blanket from the living room on your way back.
When get back Katsuki is tossing and turning like he can’t get comfortable.
“ ‘m freezing. Is the air on?” He says softly.
“No you just have the chills. Here I got the blanket” and you set everything down then slide the big fluffy blanket on top of him.
“ there you go. Can you sit up a little for me?”
He complies pulling his body up with the little strength he has left.
“Do you have body aches?” You ask as you take 2 of the pills out of the bottle.
“Mmm” and you take that as a yes.
“Here, open.” You say and then your raise the glass of water to his mouth. “Try to drink a little more. You’ve been sweating, you need liquids.”
He takes a couple more gulps before he pulls back from the cup.
He lets out another big sneeze and you grab a tissue to clean his nose. He lets out a loud groan. “I think I’m fucking dying! Is this death??”he lays back pulling the blankets over himself. “If this is it, tell everyone I put up a good fight.”
That makes you chuckle. “You’re not dying. You just never get sick so you don’t know that this is how it feels. You don’t die it just makes you want to.”
“Get your ass in bed and hold me. Might be the last time.” He murmurs pulling on your shirt.
“What if I don’t wanna be up under you? You’re gonna get me sick.”
Suddenly his eyes are stretched open and he’s looking at you like you just cussed him tf out.
“If you don’t get your ass- cough, cough cough, choke- get in bed.” He says all strangled.
“Ok, ok. Maybe you are dying.” You say as you cross overtop of the blankets and lay on top because honestly it’s pretty warm already.
“If you get me sick are you gonna return the favor and take care of me too?” You ask as he snuggles as close as he can with the plethora of blankets between the two of you.
“Don’t I always take care of your cry baby ass.” It’s not even a question so much as it is a smart ass statement.
“Yea but my bedside manner is a lot better than yours.” You inform him while you scratch his scalp”
If he hears that he doesn’t respond but then you hear the mouth breathing he’s been doing even out and you figure out that he’s already sleeping.
He’s turned into such a big baby.
You stop playing is his hair for a second and this man’s brow furrows like he’s about to throw a tantrum so you start up again and his face smooths.
Lmao you were in for a very long day of babying him until he felt like himself again.
*I’m prob gonna do a vice versa where Katsuki takes care of sick reader🤗
Katsuki Masterlist
*let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list🥰
Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @mintsbubbletea @darkstarlight82 @anon-mouse223 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @i-literally-cant-with-this @flowerbedbaby @kit-katsukii @blaize-hewwo @sweetblueworm @tippy-toes @superlegend216 @kxtsxkii @liliththeunqualifiedsimp @burgvndy @fluffismystaplefood
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thesmollestsnek · 1 year
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Death echoes
So a while ago, i found this dp x dc post that had a really interesting lore headcanon for Danny’s ghostly wail. Idk if I’ll be able to find it again, I’ll link it here if I do, but essentially it posited that every ghost has something called a “death echo”, which is an ability unique to them based heavily on their deaths. These echoes are the most powerful move in a ghost’s moveset, but they’re also extremely volatile and draining, typically damaging the ghost in some way when used, with Danny’s being his Wail because he died screaming. The original post then went on to some really cool halfa!Jason ideas based on these death echoes, but for this lil snippet with an extremely long intro I’d like to focus on Danny a bit more.
Edit: Apparently I may have extrapolated a lot of the actual lore behind these death echos myself? The inspiration post was a lot longer in my memories. Or I might've mushed multiple posts into one mental box and then forgot lol. So a lot of the actual detail from this point on is seemingly mostly original material? I think? Idk man, sometimes my brain spits out information without giving me any clues as to where it got that information. Anyway, this post got kinda long and since I'm... decently sure this is where I shifted from summarizing @ailithnight's post to writing all my own thoughts I figured here would be a good place to throw the cut lol.
So! with all of the context-for-the-context out of the way, let’s move on to the actual context for what I’m writing cause I can’t be bothered with writing an intro XD
Essentially, this is an au where Danny is an established member of the Justice League, or maybe one of the teen hero teams? I’m a slut for eternal teenager Danny, but maybe he’s enough of a powerhouse to be on the main team despite him both looking and acting like the dumbass fourteen year old he died as. Either way, he’s on a League/League-sanctioned mission and things go bad. Like, everyone-almost-dies bad. And so as a final desperation attack, Danny uses his Wail, a power he’s never told anyone on the league he even has. And it works, and they make it out, but after the fact everyone has. Questions. And because in this au death echoes are deeply personal, Danny dodges those questions, but the league coughbatmancough isn’t satisfied with that. So they push for answers. Answers Danny’s not willing to give, because. In my mind death echoes aren’t just based on how a person died, but also their experience of that death. What their last thoughts were. When Danny died the only thing that he could process beyond just an all-encompassing painpainpainpainpain was the sound of someone screaming. His screaming. And so his death echo is the sound of a fourteen year old child screaming in deathly pain and terror weaponized, which definitely gave the league Even More Questions than they would’ve had already. Which finally brings us to the actual snippet, which is a conversation between John Constantine, who was brought in for his experience with the supernatural once it became clear Danny wasn’t going to talk, and Danny himself. 
~~~~~~~
“So, kid. Batsy tells me you’ve been hiding some of your abilities, wanna tell me what's up with that? Call it an occultist's intuition, but somethin’ tells me you’re not just being stubborn for the hell of it.”
“It’s... complicated. And not anyone’s business, either!”
“Kid...”
“Why does it even matter?! It’s not something I want to or am even able to do on a regular basis! I saved the mission, can’t they just accept that and move on???”
Sighing, Constantine reached up to start massaging his brow. “Kid, you and I both know that ain’t gonna be enough. Now I know that some things are better left alone, but the rest of these idiots? They can’t accept that, Batsy especially. That man’s never left bloody well enough alone in his life”
He looked up just in time to see the otherworldly teen shrink into himself, looking every bit the child he was. “I know but... why? Why do they need to keep asking questions? And why do they only ask the ones that hurt to answer?”
A sharp glance. “The fuck kinda questions are they asking? Batman was speaking in more grunt than word, so I didn’t really catch all the details of what this power you’re supposedly hiding even is.”
Phantom shrinks even more into himself at that, and responds in a voice so small it’s more sigh than speech. “I... I can scream. And it breaks things and pushes people back. But it, it sounds. Bad. And it brings up bad memories and I don’t like to do it or listentoitoreventhinkaboutitandtheywon’tletmeforgetand-”
“Breathe kid. I know you don’t need to but just take a deep breath with me. Don’t you go getting lost in your own head on me now., Constantine reassured the kid automatically, the sheer hopelessness prompting action long before the words themselves could be understood. Then the rest of him caught up, and he had to pause. Looked up at the kid, saw just how distressed he was. A picture was starting to form in the back of his head, and Constantine didn’t like what he saw one bit. A last-resort power that the normally open Phantom was strangely reticent about. A scream so horrible sounding the rest of the league would not to stop asking questions about it. Terrible memories to match said scream. And one truly miserable child who couldn’t bear to even think about any of it. 
“Phantom... is that your Echo? Screaming?”
A miserable nod is his only response, the tears that had been welling up in the kid’s eyes finally starting to fall. Cursing softly to himself, Constantine stood to leave, bracing himself for the Bat’s inevitable questioning. “Well then you just take all the time you need love, and leave the rest to me. I’ll make sure the rest of those idiots know not to ask you about this ever again.”  And with that Constantine turned and strode towards the door, leaving the quietly sobbing child to collect himself in privacy.
~~~~~
I had a whole-ass lore dump conversation between Constantine and Batman planned here, explaining how death echoes are deeply personal, and asking about one is a taboo on par with, potentially even worse than, asking a ghost about their death outright. Because they are formed from an amalgamation of how a ghost died, their last thoughts, and their final emotions, in some ways asking a ghost about their Echo is like asking them to describe their death in painstaking detail. But uhhh... inspiration bug left. So yea. Side note, I’d like to apologize if my depiction of Constantine’s accent was Bad, I’m but a lowly USAmerican whose only exposure to British accents is through tv ^-^’
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juyeonszn · 8 months
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SWEET
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PAIRING lee juyeon x f!reader
WORD COUNT 4.61k
GENRES fluff ﹒ smut ﹒ minuscule bit of angst
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, boy next door/neighbor au, reader was in a toxic-ish relationship, juyo is so cute and so sweet, until he’s kinda 😵‍💫 yk?, um kevin and changmin appearances, reader being absolutely irrevocably impossibly down bad for juyeon’s hands, so hand kink lol, making out, vaginal fingering, cum eating…. lol, they get a little sappy at the end
SUMMARY maybe this was for the better. maybe it was okay to let your guard down every once in a while, so long as it was always for your flirty neighbor.
MORE i would like to apologize for putting this out a day late… um i was really busy preparing for my enhypen concert so 😭 not a lot of writing was happening since there wasn’t enough brain juice flowing. anyways. ENJOY <3 pls rb if u did! (ALSO THANK U REESE AND @sungbeam FOR BETAING AND EDITING <<<3 i love y’all sm)
PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri
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If there was one thing you took pride in, it was your keen sense of hospitality.
You’d been raised as the type of girl to always be welcoming when a new face arrived, to be that guiding light for them as they adjusted to all the changes in their life. When you were little, your mother taught you to introduce yourself first, because you never knew if that person was shy or not. Of course, there was the usual ‘Stranger Danger’ pep talk, but it differed greatly from the new friend pep talk.
The first time you exhibited this wonderful trait of yours was in middle school when the foreign student in your class was forced to stand at the front of the room. He wasn’t necessarily shy, but you could tell he didn’t really enjoy being put on the spot, hands behind his back as he said his name and where he was from.
Kevin Moon. Age 13. Vancouver, Canada.
The only empty desk in the classroom was the one beside yours, and that was the golden opportunity to become best friends with the new kid. As soon as he settled into his seat and class had resumed as normal, you leaned over slightly and cupped a hand over your mouth to whisper loud enough that he could hear.
“Hi! I’m Y/N!”
He gave you a small smile in return and from then on, you and Kevin Moon were the best of friends.
The second time you proved your kindness was your freshman year of college. It was still syllabus week, but your professor had sent out an email over the weekend with papers that needed to be printed and brought to class. The guy next to you didn’t get the memo, freaking out over already messing things up on the first day.
You didn’t know him at all, but you felt bad that he was so stressed. In turn, you decided to rip up your own papers. He looked at you like you were crazy, maybe because you were. What idiot does something like that?
You give him a warm smile. “There. Now we’re both missing it.”
All he can do is laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m Changmin.”
“Y/N.”
After that, Ji Changmin came to be another one of your closest friends. It was kind of silly that something your mother instilled in you at a young age had become such a big part of your life. It brought you people who you’d cherish forever. But it also brought people you wish you’d never met.
“Get the fuck out.”
“Y/N, babe, we can work through this—”
“Are you deaf?” Your tone raises and your feet carry you to the front door, swinging it open. “I said to get out of my apartment.”
“We’ve been together for three years. You’re not gonna fight for us?” He pleads, clasping his hands as he stands in front of you.
“Why would I? Why should I stay with someone who doesn’t value me enough to stay loyal?” You seethe, your anger growing in size the longer you glare at his pathetic face. The face of a man you thought would love you until death did you part.
“She meant nothing to me!” He tries to rationalize with you, but you won’t have any of it. You weren’t stupid and you sure as hell weren’t blind.
“Do you take me as a fucking fool, Daehyun? I’ve known for months that you weren’t ‘working late at the office’. She even DMed me and showed me screenshots of your messages. Now get out before I call the cops.” You’re so pissed off that you don’t even realize you’re crying, fat tears trickling down your hot cheeks.
“After all I’ve done for you and all I’ve given you? You’re gonna act like a bitch?” He drops the innocent boyfriend act, backing you into the doorframe.
“Leave, Daehyun.” You say flatly. You’re not gonna give him the satisfaction of crumbling beneath the weight of his words. You knew the truth, you knew what kind of person he truly was after all this time.
He scoffs, grabbing his jacket off the hook beside him and finally storming out of your apartment. You cover your mouth with your hand to muffle the sobs that so badly want to escape. You watch as he bumps shoulders with a stranger holding a box, thankfully not looking back at you.
You make eye contact with said stranger, eyes wide like a child who’d just gotten caught with their hands in a cookie jar. His eyes resemble those of your friends’ when you told them you’d found out about your boyfriend’s infidelity. You both stand there for a moment, an impromptu staring contest ensuing.
Quickly, you snap out of your trance, cowering into your apartment. You vaguely remember the elderly woman across the hall mentioning that someone was moving into the unit beside yours. She had never told you a specific date, though. Had you known it was today, you might’ve expedited the dramatic break-up with Daehyun.
How could you possibly introduce yourself to him after he witnessed that? And in your current state; snot-nosed and teary-eyed? There was no way. You’d just have to postpone that for another day. Hopefully he didn’t mind too much.
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“Was he cute?”
“Kevin, why is that what you’re worried about?” Changmin’s mouth pulls into a thin line, smacking the slightly older male over the back of the head. He winces, caressing the spot to ease the pain.
“I wasn’t really paying attention to that when I had just shoved my cheating ex boyfriend out of my apartment,” you push around the ramyeon on your plate with your chopsticks. “I do feel terrible that he had to see that though. But how can I face him after that?”
Kevin taps his chin with his index finger, lips pursed in thought. “Why don’t you bake for him? Welcome him to the complex like the hospitable neighbor you are.”
“That’s not a half bad idea, actually.” Changmin nods, shoveling some rice onto his spoon. The Pisces deadpans and reclines in his chair.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Okay, enough bickering you two. I need you to finish eating so I can start planning what to bake.”
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The third time you practice your mother’s life lesson, is the next evening when you’re face-to-face with your neighbor’s door.
Your hands have begun to clam up beneath the warm tupperware of cookies you were holding. Were you supposed to just knock on his door like everything was fine and dandy? What if he wasn’t even home? Maybe you should just leave the baked goods with a note and—
The door swings open to reveal the stranger from a few days ago. However, this time he also wears that expression of shock, cat-like eyes widened. Your mouth moves like fish out of water, not sure what you should say or how you should say it. So you don’t think and you just act, extending the tupperware towards him.
“H-Hi, I’m Y/N, I’m your neighbor,” your speech is a little shaky, but you’re too nervous to focus on that. “I— um— I baked these for you as a housewarming gift to welcome you to the complex. As well as an apology for making you a bystander in my messy breakup.”
His features relax as a smile inches its way onto his face, graciously accepting the treats you made for him. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that. And don’t even worry about it, I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“N-No, you’re fine, I swear! We shouldn’t have aired our dirty laundry so publicly like that. You did nothing wrong.” You wave your hands as if physically dismissing his words. He lets out a little chuckle that warms your chest.
“If it’s any consolation, I’m glad that you left the dude. He sounded like a total asshole,” your neighbor tucks the tupperware under his arm, leaning against the threshold of his apartment. “You seem too nice to settle for somebody like that. From what I’ve seen, of course.”
You don’t know why that has your heart skipping a beat like a high school girl. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he really was cute. He had a boyish charm to him, but not so much so that it overpowered how handsome he was. Kevin was going to have a field day with this information.
“Uh, thank you. I should be getting back to my place now. I have an early day at work tomorrow. Have a good night!” You clear your throat to kick yourself out of whatever stupor you were about to fall into, bowing. As you’re turning on your heel to make the ten foot trip to your own apartment, he calls out your name.
“I’m Juyeon, by the way.” He grins, waving as you push open your door.
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“Now that is quite the interesting development.” Kevin snorts, helping himself to one of the raspberry filled donuts you’d just finished baking.
“If you keep eating my product, I’m gonna have to kick you out of the kitchen and out of my bakery,” you chide, swatting his hands away from the baker’s rack. “And how is that interesting in the slightest? I literally gave him the cookies, apologized, and that was that.”
“He was literally flirting with you, Y/N. Changmin, tell her I’m right. Apparently I’m no longer a voice of reason here.” He says through a full mouth.
“I mean, yeah? Kinda? Calling a girl nice is usually guy code for ‘I think you’re attractive and I could see myself sleeping with you’,” Changmin shrugs, tearing off a piece of Kevin’s donut. “But I also see where you’re coming from. You did just meet each other. He could’ve just been trying to console you in a way.”
“Why am I even friends with men when they’re useless?” You throw your head back, speaking to no one in particular.
Perhaps Kevin truly was overthinking the situation. Juyeon seemed to be a kind person who probably didn’t want any problems with his neighbors. It made sense why he’d side with you after witnessing your break up. Besides, the wounds were still too fresh to even consider thinking of anyone else in such a way. No matter how hot they may be…
You’d just have to wait and see for yourself. Only time could tell what would become of the nature of your relationship with your cute new neighbor.
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You look insane with everything in your cart, filled to the brim with baking ingredients. It was around 10 PM and here you were, at the grocery store buying the things needed to make cinnamon rolls. Being a baker with a bit of a sweet tooth meant your cravings got a little out of hand at times, forcing you to make drastic decisions. (I.E. grocery shopping so late at night.)
Even your clothing choice was silly: flimsy pajama shorts with Care Bears patterned on them, a baggy t-shirt, and matching slippers. It’s not like anyone cared anyway. And it wasn’t like you were trying to impress anybody either.
But as you’re walking towards the registers, you start to regret your outfit. You very quickly spot your neighbor with a basket on his arm, waiting in line for self-checkout. You feel all the color drain from your face as you stand there, staring like an absolute idiot.
He’s dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants, a hoodie swallowing his figure. He looks so effortlessly good, it kind of makes you upset. Because how are you just now meeting a guy who’s both kind and attractive? As far as you were concerned, they didn’t exist in real life— they only existed in fairytales.
Juyeon looks up from his phone and catches your eye, his hand coming up to give you a little wave and one of those crinkly eye smiles that he does when you pass each other in the hall.
As the weeks have passed, you’ve seen him more and more than you deemed normal. You’d bump into each other on the way to or from picking up your mail, you’d hold the elevator for the other in record time, and you’d even leave your apartments at the same time. Now it appears you’re running into the guy at the supermarket, too. You tried to chalk it all up to coincidence, that you just both happened to be thinking on the same wavelength.
But shyly waving back to him right now reminds you that divine intervention had crazy ways of working its magic. Perhaps those had all just been openings for you to engage in something more with your cute neighbor. And there was only one way to find out.
You psych yourself up as you walk towards him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Juyeon’s smile grows wider as he notices you approaching. “Hey, stranger. What are you up to tonight?”
“Some late baking,” you giggle, wanting to punch yourself in the face for sounding like a goddamn school girl. “I was actually wondering if you’d like to come over and keep me company? Totally up to you of course! I just thought it might be nice to get to know each other properly.”
Your suggestion is what leads the two of you to meet back up at your apartment after purchasing your respective groceries. You attempt to tidy up as best you can while you wait for the knock at your door, setting out all the ingredients on the counter and preheating your oven.
The soft knock comes moments later and you find yourself practically running to open the door, grinning at the sheepish expression on Juyeon’s face. You allow him inside of your apartment, trailing after him into the kitchen. Part of you felt like you were moving on too fast after Daehyun. As a baker, your kitchen was your safe space. It was where you went when you needed to be alone and in the comfort of what you knew best. Kevin and Changmin were the only ones you trusted to be within that element. For you to let Juyeon in— to let him permeate the walls you’ve never let down before, not even with your ex— was brand new territory.
“I almost forgot you own a bakery,” Juyeon speaks up, fingers tracing along the stand mixer. “But seeing all this expensive equipment reminded me of that. It only makes sense that someone as sweet as you would constantly be around sweet treats.”
You fail to bite back your smile. Maybe this was for the better. Maybe it was okay to let your guard down every once in a while, so long as it was always for your flirty neighbor. He laughs when you nudge his shoulder, grabbing all the dry ingredients for the dough.
“On a scale of one to ten, how patient are you?” You ask, avoiding his eyes as you open the flour. The question was in regards to several things.
“I’d say about an eight or nine. Patience is a virtue, you know. It comes easily if you practice hard enough.” He answers, leaning against the counter and watching you.
You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in, searching for your measuring cups. Both you and Juyeon begin to measure out the dry ingredients, dumping them into the mixing bowl. You decide to let him take some of the reins, folding in the mixture of milk, egg, butter, and yeast. While he does that, you prepare the cinnamon sugar.
“I think I’m done. What do I do next?” He turns to you, head cocked to the side slightly. You might actually die of cuteness aggression. The duality of man would one day drive you to the brink of insanity.
“Now you just knead it until it’s smooth.” Your back is to him as you say this, putting away any refrigerated items so they don’t go bad. But as you face him again, you wish you hadn’t.
Your eyes zero in on his hands, kneading the dough with careful, nimble fingers. You feel light-headed as you slip into a spell, gawking at how long and slender they are, massaging the dough like an expert. How had you never noticed how big and pretty his hands were?
Maybe baking with Juyeon was a bad idea. You could barely focus on anything but his fingers pressing the under-construction-cinnamon rolls into the counter. Oh how badly you wanted to be that dough— his hands all over you, groping and massaging and kneading and caressing everywhere they could reach.
The veins running up his arms weren’t helping either, instead fueling the fire burning in the pit of your stomach. You feel your lips part, eyes glossed over with that all too familiar lustful intensity. You wouldn’t be surprised if you had to wipe away drool after this.
“Y/N?” Juyeon glances up from the dough, a little taken aback by your reverie. He follows your line of sight, grinning to himself smugly when he realizes what has you so transfixed. He’s finally found your weakness, and he couldn’t wait to dangle it over your head. Patience was a virtue, but perhaps it would be okay for him to dabble with a vice for once.
He pushes out the dough, using his thumbs to spread it into a rectangular shape. He feels his blood pressure rising the darker your eyes get. However, he’s aware that you just recently got out of a relationship. He wants to move at a pace you’re comfortable with. So he won’t take the first step. He has to leave that up to you.
It’s at a certain point that you come to, blinking to force away the dirty thoughts plaguing your mind. You travel your field of vision to his face, where you find him already looking at you. Your cheeks heat up in mortification from being caught red-handed. You were just gawking at the poor guy’s like they were a piece of fresh meat. This was terrible.
You swallow thickly, averting eye contact to grab the bowl of cinnamon sugar. “Uh, we can start forming the rolls now so they can rise. And then— um— and then we can make the glaze.”
The burn of his gaze on your profile has you tripping over your words, cinnamon sugar sprinkling onto the counter space surrounding and the knife almost slipping from your grip when you go to cut the dough. Juyeon catches it for you, wrapping his fingers around yours to guide your movements and keep them steady.
You feel his breath behind your ear, his chest pressed to your back. His hand is so much larger than your own, nearly covering it entirely. He doesn’t make an effort to move either, rolling the dough into swirl shapes along with you. The whole time this is happening, neither of you are saying a word, letting the silence consume you and the air around you.
As the rolls are rising/baking, you set up everything necessary for making the icing. Juyeon watches with hearts in his eyes as you whisk the sugar, cream cheese, vanilla, and butter in a separate bowl. He wonders how many other people you let see you in this setting. How many people get to see you do the thing you love so dearly?
“I’d like to visit your bakery sometime, if you wouldn’t mind,” Juyeon suddenly says, resting his elbows on the counter as you taste test the icing. “I wanna try all of the desserts you bake.”
“I’m opening later tomorrow morning actually,” you smile, humming in appreciation when the sweetness of the glaze hits your taste buds. “You can come with me to try the fresh batches before I put them out? I’ll warn you though, I get there at like six.”
“AM?” His eyes practically pop out of their sockets.
“Yes, AM.” You laugh, lightly shoving him backwards.
“I’ll put like ten alarms so I can make sure I’m up in time, then.” He pokes his cheek with his tongue, tipping his head to the side. The goofy smile on your face remains even after minutes have passed and the two of you are just waiting for the cinnamon rolls to finish baking.
It feels like hours have gone by with the two of you standing there when they’re finally ready. The ding of the oven has you springing into action, putting on some oven mitts and taking out the baking sheet. Juyeon's eyes light up and even though you’d just been losing your mind over how insane he was making you, you find yourself cooing at him.
He laughs as you grab a couple spare icing bags for the cinnamon roll glaze, filling them generously. You hand one over to him and decide to split the rolls evenly, icing one half yourself while he does the other. And for once, you think that tonight might end normally. You think that nothing eventful will happen and you’ll just ice the cinnamon rolls without problems.
But you were wrong, like always.
“Ah, shit—”
You glance up from the roll you were glazing to see what the fuss was about. Juyeon’s icing bag tore somehow, the sticky topping getting all over his hand. Truly, you were no better than a man, with the filthy thoughts inhabiting your brain almost instantaneously.
He brings his hand up to his mouth, licking the glaze off the back of his hand and wrapping his lips around his thumb. You felt dizzy, drunk on the sight of your extremely attractive neighbor doing something so sensual without even trying to. You bite your lip, accidentally dropping your own icing bag due to lack of attention.
Juyeon smirks slightly, relishing in the way it takes absolutely nothing to hypnotize you with his hands alone. He really tried to keep himself contained. He really wanted you to extend the first olive branch, but he knows you’re apprehensive. So just this once, he tells himself that it’s okay to initiate, to give you a little push in the right direction.
He takes a step closer to you, caging you against the counter. You stare up at him with wide, doe eyes, as if you were completely innocent despite the naughty images flashing behind them. Juyeon brings his thumb up to your lips, the pad of it still covered in icing.
“Think you could clean this up for me?” He asks, voice low and husky. You could actually combust with that all on its own.
Just like your formal introduction, you don’t give yourself the time to think, and act, instead, running your tongue along the length of his thumb. Juyeon doesn’t restrain the groan in the back of his throat, holding your face in his hands and pulling you in for a kiss.
You reciprocate immediately, fisting his hoodie like it was the only thing capable of stabilizing you. Maybe it was, with the way Juyeon’s lips synchronized with yours and his fingers tangled in your hair. You thought the ground would swallow you whole and wake you up from this dream. On what planet did someone like Lee Juyeon like a girl like you?
His hands slide down your body, groping everything in their path desperately before cupping under your thighs and lifting you onto the counter. He knocks the baking sheet of cinnamon rolls out of the way, palms rubbing up and down the sides of your legs. You want more, so much more, but you’re afraid to ask. You’re afraid to start something you’re not even sure you can emotionally handle.
Juyeon senses your hesitation, detaching from you momentarily. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want. I understand if you still need time.”
“N-No, I want this— I want you— I'm just… scared.” You breathe, your forehead using his shoulder for support.
“I'm not him, Y/N. I can give you the world if you’d let me. I’d never do what he did to you, that’s a promise.” He holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, kissing the crown of your head.
“Okay,” you nod, smiling up at him. “I trust you, Juyeon.”
You reconnect your lips as his fingers slip beneath your pajama shorts, toying with the waistband of your panties. His lips curl up when he feels you squirm, legs parting to make more room for him in the middle of them. You sigh, body shuddering when he drags his knuckle down your clothed slit.
Juyeon hooks his fingers into your shorts and underwear, hauling them down your legs. You place your hands behind you to brace yourself, a shiver trailing your spine when the cool air of your apartment hits your warm core. He groans again at the sight of you bare for him, using two fingers to spread your lower lips.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he swears, his thumb slowly circling your clit.
You whine, tossing your head back as he applies more pressure. Bit by bit, you begin to lose yourself to the pleasure of Juyeon’s gorgeous hands. Soon the stimulation on your clit amplifies when he adds another finger, thrusting it in and out of your entrance. He curls deep inside of you, like he was reaching for something he’d left.
One finger turns to two, and before you know it, Juyeon’s openly finger fucking you on the counter. He leans over your body to keep your lips together, kissing you sloppily while all his focus is on drawing you to the edge. You can almost taste it, your saccharine release in your field of vision now.
It’s a little embarrassing how quickly he was able to wind you up and trip you over the edge, but you feel too euphoric to care. You pause in your kiss to look down at his handy work. (No pun intended.) It makes your head feel foggy and your vision blurry to see his deft fingers fucking you open, veins bulging, like he’d done this many times before. Your hooded eyes follow them up his forearms, a whine escaping your lips.
A particular curl of his fingers and circle of his thumb have you clenching around him, creaming like you’d never had an orgasm in your life. He doesn’t slow his assault, bringing you down just to put you back up on that summit once again. The overstimulation has you cumming a second time in a matter of what felt like seconds, whimpers becoming voluminous moans.
Juyeon kisses you softly, gently pulling out his fingers to lick them clean like he did with the cinnamon roll glaze. A choked groan bubbles past your mouth, tossing an arm over your eyes. He laughs, towing you to the edge of the counter.
He brushes some stray hairs out of your face, moving your arm to smile dopily at you. “I hope you know I was being serious about the whole treating you better thing. If you’ll give me the chance.”
“I know. I told you I trust you, remember?” You nip at the inside of your cheek. His eyes crinkle up like they tend to do when he’s smiling so genuinely. It forces the wind out of you, because how could you ever get used to a sight so stunning?
“You’re so cute.” He laughs, kissing all around your face and smushing your cheeks together.
“Juyeon,” you mumble. “I’m half naked…”
“Even better,” he grins, pecking the tip of your nose. “Makes it that much easier to do all of the other things I wanna do to you.”
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© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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auras-moonstone · 5 months
Note
HEAR ME OUT! Tara and Y/n has been together ever since the massacre in Woodsboro but Tara (like that bitch she is) treats her like shit while drunk at a party, ending up in a breakup. Ethan steps in and takes her home and it ends up in Smut/fluff.
stars around my scars — ethan landry
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word count: 1,174
pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader
summary: after witnessing the way tara mistreats y/n at the party, ethan takes her home to take care of her.
warnings: toxic relationship. fluff.
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Y/N ALWAYS HAD ALWAYS KNOWN TARA DIDN’T LIKE HER AS MUCH AS SHE DID. She had always known deep down that the petite girl had feelings for Amber, but she had been too scared of ruining their friendship so she settled for the second option—her. And call her masochist, but Y/N never cared as long as she could call Tara hers.
And then, there was Amber’s betrayal and death. It sent Tara down a rabbit hole. She had never been in love with Y/N, but at least she used to care about her. She was sweet and attentive despite her heart belonging to someone else. Now, Y/N was simply the person she kept at arm’s length as a distraction from pain. Parties and alcohol were also things that helped her with that.
The party the group was currently at landed on a very convenient day—it marked one year from the Woodsboro killings, and Tara made it her mission to get as intoxicated as possible, trying to get her mind off things.
“Tara, please stop. You’ve drunk way too much.” Y/N said to her girlfriend, who was frenetically searching for another bottle of vodka.
“Jesus, leave me alone, Y/N.” the girl rolled her eyes. “Don’t you have anything better to do than suffocating me with your clingyness?”
Y/N sighed. “I’m just taking care of you. You’re going to regret drinking so much in the morning.”
“Are you deaf or something? I said leave me the fuck alone. I just want to drink and forget about everything.”
“I know, T. But you’re very drunk, and you keep mixing drinks. It’s gonna land you in the hospital.” Y/N carefully grabbed her girlfriend’s hand, but the girl shoved it away as if the touch had burnt her.
“You’re not her, don’t you get it? You’ll never be her. I just wish you’d leave me the fuck alone. I don’t love you, stop trying to make me love you. It’s not going to happen. Ever.” Tara spat, voice loud enough to make people look.
Y/N stood still, not knowing what to say or do. Her brain couldn’t formulate any words, she just felt a gigantic knot on her throat and tears blurring her vision. The pity glances were overwhelming, and she wanted to get away from them so badly, but her feet wouldn’t cooperate.
Ethan, who had witnessed the harsh words from a few feet away, rushed towards them as soon as he noticed her friend’s frozen state. “You’re a fucking bitch.” he glared at Tara, and silently added ‘and you deserve everything that’s coming to you.’ “Let’s go, Y/N/N. I’m taking you home.”
Y/N followed the boy without a second guess. Ethan didn’t utter a single word on the way home, he just tucked her under his arm and affectionately rubbed her arm. And as always, his presence was comforting.
He was always there for her, lifting her spirits up and offering his ear whenever she needed someone to talk to. Even though Y/N could sense what his thoughts about her relationship with Tara were, Ethan had never judged her for her questionable and stupid choices.
Ethan had tried very hard not to spill every thought he had about it, because as much as she wanted to open Y/N’s eyes, he knew she hadn’t been ready for the truth. And deep down, Y/N sensed that. But that night, she felt it was time to hear his opinion.
“Thank you, Eth. For everything.” she finally said once they reached his apartment.
Ethan sat beside her on the couch with a glass of water in his hand. “Anytime.” he replied, giving her the glass. “Y/N…” he said after a few seconds of dead silence.
“I know, Eth. I’m the most idiotic person in the world.” her eyes were glued to the floor, completely embarrassed by the fact that Ethan had to witness the way Tara had talked to her.
“Don’t do that. Don’t put the blame on you.” he kneeled between her legs, forcing her to look at him. “You’re so amazing, and I’m sorry Tara didn’t see that. You deserve so much better, Y/N/N. You were such a great girlfriend to her, and she took you for granted.”
“I should’ve ended it so long ago… but I don’t know, we’ve been through so much and I was scared that if I broke up with her, the group would put distance between us. I don’t want to be alone.”
Ethan grabbed her by the cheeks and caressed her face softly. His touch was so relaxing that it made her close her eyes, and before she knew what was doing, she started pressing kisses on his palm and wrists.
The boy’s heart was beating so fast that it felt like it wanted to escape through his chest. “I’m never leaving you. You’ll never be alone. Keep me close and I promise I’ll take care of you and make you feel loved.”
Y/N opened her eyes at that statement. Surprised vulnerable eyes met his determined and loving ones, and for the second time that night, she was left speechless. In the best way, Ethan took away her ability to speak.
“Since the very first night, you have been living free rent in my mind. Realizing you were taken was like a punch to the guts, but learning that your heart belonged to someone who didn’t appreciate it? It pierced my heart. Maybe I should’ve said something sooner, maybe you needed someone to help you open your eyes.”
Y/N shook her head. “I don’t know if I would’ve taken your advice, to be honest. I was blind. But Ethan, you’ve taken care of me from the beginning. You would break your back to make me break a smile, Eth. I want nothing more than to try something with you but I just got out of a relationship, I don’t know if my mind is in the right space to start something new.”
“I’m not saying we should start a relationship right now. I can wait, and in the meanwhile I can make you feel good, be whatever you need.”
“That wouldn’t be fair to you, Eth. I can’t use you like that.”
“Y/N, I’m begging you to use me. Fuck, I sound like a attention starved puppy, but I want you—whatever way you want me, whenever you want me and as long as you want to.”
Y/N searched for any sign of hesitation or reluctance, but the boy was determined. He really wanted this, and to be honest, so did she. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
Y/N nodded, the sides of her mouth lifting. “Right now, I need a kiss. You think you can give me that?”
Ethan grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her towards him, lips meeting aggressively. “Your lips taste so fucking good, baby. I think I’m already addicted.”
“Good, cause I think I’m addicted, too. I’ve never been kissed like this.” she said in between kisses.
“Then I guess we should never stop doing this.” he gripped her waist as he straddles her thighs.
Y/N’s hooded eyes connected with his and they both smiled. “Guess we shouldn’t.”
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winksasleeplesseye · 1 year
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Bubbles
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A/N: Gonna be completely real...I haven’t written smut  in a while (hence the ending) but this came to me on the fly and I had to put it down somewhere. This is unedited, but enjoy anyways!
Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Reader
--
Leon had all but wanted to collapse as soon as he step foot in his apartment. If it were at all possible, every single muscle ached and he was sure the dirt and grime he’d accumulated over the course of 48 hours would never wash away. 
Quite frankly, he never wanted to step foot outside the confines of this apartment for the foreseeable future. He drags his feet, slowly but surely making it to your shared bedroom. He’s more than ready to drop like a dead body atop the mattress but the sound of humming from the bathroom catches his attention. 
You were in there. He recognized your voice, it caressed his ears like warm honey.
In truth, Leon hadn’t stopped thinking about you. On what was certainly the most dangerous mission he’d ever embarked on, he certainly wasn’t proud of it, but considering he almost lost his life to a weird ass cult and a parasite…he was sure anyone would cut him some slack. 
Having little regard, Leon flung open the bathroom door.
Bubbles.
You were surrounded by bubbles, droplets of water, and small bubbles running down one of your legs as it hung over the side of the tub. Leon felt a bit of disappointment that the bubbles obscured what he really wanted to see.
Your eyes widen and your head snaps in his direction, “Leon? You scared me half to death!” 
“Jesus, sorry!” He flinched as something wet hit him square in the chest. His mouth was agape as he stared at the soapy sponge that you had just lobbed at him, the water from it sliding down the front of his shirt. “Did you just throw your sponge at me?” 
You laughed, “That’s what you get for scaring me!” 
“Some welcome this is!” He pulled his now-soaked shirt from his pants, throwing it down by his feet.
Your momentary anger seems to pass, as your voice is already soft again. “Come over here and I’ll give you a warm one, you idiot.”
Leon smirked. “Have I won your trust back so-”
The words died on his lips. You’d risen from the tub, your body dripping, glistening, and perfect. All the blood that once made his brain function had diverted to his cock. Everything is a blur; one minute you were throwing a sponge at him and the next Leon had you underneath him, water sloshing everywhere, no regard for his dirty shoes and pants. 
Your soaked body pressed into his, your arms wound around his neck, and your lips met over and over in fiery, bruising kisses. Every single about you short-circuited his senses. All of them screamed you, you, you. 
When Leon couldn’t ignore his need for air, he broke away, but a force drew him back. He trailed kisses along your neck and the sounds you made were driving him wild. He had to have more of you now. But, he also needed to get out of these damn clothes. 
Leon reluctantly removed himself from your body, an audible whine escaping your lips at the loss of contact. “Baby…”
“I got you, sweetheart.” Ridding himself of the rest of his clothes, Leon picks you up and carries you to the bedroom. He’s more than ready, positioning himself at your entrance before you take the reins and now you’re on top of him. 
“I told you I’d give you a warm welcome, right?” You took hold of the shaft of his cock, sliding down slowly. Leon’s eyes rolled back in his head at the feel of the warm, velvet heat between your legs. It gripped him like a vice and he didn’t ever want to be let go. It took all the willpower in him not to grab you by the hips and pump up into you. 
Once you were fully seated, you hissed and shifted in his lap, the movement sending spasms of pleasure up his spine. Bracing your hands on his chest, you peered down at Leon, a devious smile on your face. 
“Welcome home, agent.” 
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yan-lorkai · 3 months
Note
Can we please have some hcs or oneshot where Yuu works at Mostro Lounge and has to deal with a difficult costumer? How would the octotrio react if said costumer tried to hit or insult Yuu? Platonically or romantic it's funny btw, thanks!
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I was indecisive between platonic or romantic so I left ambiguous. I hope u enjoy, darling!
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Warning: Yandere content, Floyd beating a random and reader knowing about their yandere tendencies but liking nonetheless.
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A death wish. This customer has a death wish, holding you by the collar of your shirt while he glares right at you as a predator to his prey. You aren't a prey though, not that he knows this.
You look down, his blazer wet from the drink you purposely spilled on it because he was an annoying asshole. He looks angry or something but you don't care. Instead you focus on the reaction of your co-workers, some tremble knowing what's coming, others running to get Jade and Floyd. You almost can't wait.
"Sir," You smiled how Jade taught you. Sweet, disarmingly. Your fingers coming around to hold his wrist. "I apologize for this little accident. Though if you insist on being violent there will be consequences."
"Yeah and? Those idiot eels can't save ya now. I only need a second to mess your face!" He snorted, unable to stop the toothy grin from dominating his smug face. He was dumb, and oh so fascinating, you almost wished to study his brain but you knew not much would rest of him when your tweels got him.
He slapped you on your face hard enough that it send you stumbling to the ground, his hand already reaching for his magic pen, its tip lit by flames so bright your skin screamed. So hot, unbearably so, like fire. “You are nothing but a mere employee, you should know the customer is always right."
He was ready to strike you with all his might when a strong hand landed on his shoulder. It's was Floyd. The usual smiley eel was frowning now but a dark glint was raising on his eyes, mischievous, evil. He used to look at you like that when you used to tell him to leave you alone, though he was obviously more softer when roughhousing with you. With this customer though?
"Are you alright, my pearl?" Jade asks, helping you stand up and searching for injuries. But you assure him you're fine with a nod of your head, feeling if anything a little tired. It was so noisy today. And you were kind used to dealing with these type of costumers, used to see the punishments and then getting coddled by your favorite trio.
"Mind accompany me to Azul's office?" Jade offered you his arms which you accepted but still didn't move an inch. A smug smile now on your lips as the customer who was arguing with you now shaked under Floyd's stare. As he should.
"Destroy him," you said to him, eyeing the customer who pushed you. "and be quick, Floyd darling."
Then you walked to Azul's office, ignoring Floyd's laugh and the sounds of his fists hitting the other guy's face. You were used to things like that happening frequently but it did bother you that this was the only way for people to behave. The only way to correct their behavior, as this wasn't gonna happen if he wasn't harassing you and making uncomfortable comments about you.
The screams of pain and the smell of something burning was all you kept in your mind as you sat in Azul's office, Jade putting a glass of water on your hands for you to drink before seating by your side.
"Unbelievable," Azul looked at you, at your uniform crumpled. He stood up from his usual spot and held your face on his hands, so sofly, so lovingly, leaving a kiss on your forehead. "I can't leave you alone one minute, angelfish, look what he did to you!"
He pressed on a small scratch in your cheeks, swelled and hurting, it made you wince and Azul was not happy with it. You could see him planning something. Planning a revenge against that guy.
"Floyd better off him for touching you." Jade said, cleaning the scratch gently. "If he don't, perhaps I'll have something to nimble on later."
You laughed. They were overprotective of you, they were before, they are now. You kinda like it. You like their gentleness, the softness, the slow dancing with Azul when he didn't have a new victim to trick, cooking with Floyd and splashing water on Jade while you wash the dishes. The simple moments with them were precious, each and every single one. And of course you knew about their dark side, could see it as clear as day but you accepted them nevertheless.
As if you have a choice. You knew about the house they built underwater, decorated how you like, full of things you loved. You knew a lot of things even if you pretended you don't.
After making sure you weren't hurt and that everything was fine, they both wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into a tight hug. “I love you guys, you know that?"
Azul hummed, exhaling in your scent as Jade leaned in to kiss your unharmed cheek. You knew they were swearing and angry at themselves to let you be alone out there, Jade and Azul stared at each other as if exchanging guilt and you didn't want them to feel like this. You held each of them their hand and squeezed both hard enough to get their attention.
"We should go out and do something," you suggested tiredly but your eyes lighted up with excitement with the prospect of doing something with your favorite trio. But before any plans could be made, Floyd barged into the office, his once-white shirt now stained crimson. As he always did, a wide grin stretched across his face, sending shivers down your spine.
As Floyd entered, we could see he was carrying a battered bag in one hand and clutching his side with the other. "He won't bother you anymore, Shrimp. I've made sure of it, ehehe."
Before anyone could respond, Floyd started recounting what he did in great detail, how he punched and squeezed and how the guy screamed. He throw himself in your lap mid-tale, wrapping his arms around your tummy. "Oi, shrimp pet my head." He asked.
And you did, combing through his strands delicately while he continued rambling. "And then I've dragged him outta here and told him not to come back."
"Thank you," you said to him. Then turned to Jade and Azul "and you two too!"
You didn't need to be comforted but their gesture was so sweet. If you have those three with you, you guess that you're going to be fine. Though you do wonder, would they laugh if they found out you did this on purpose? You can only imagine their answer as you wasn't planning to tell them.
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onceandfuturelesbian · 11 months
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merthur fanfic where arthur realizes merlin’s very obviously hiding something and after thinking and stalking, comes to the conclusion that merlin’s in love with him. he doesn’t know how he feels about it but he doesn’t treat merlin differently or says anything. after arthur becomes king, merlin nervously comes to tell him something. he’s very clearly nervous and fidgety so arthur’s like oh shit he’s gonna confess his feelings. instead, merlin confesses his magic. arthur’s absolutely shook cause what?!?? but he ends up being chill, removes the ban and makes merlin court sorcerer. a couple months later, merlin notices that arthur’s seemed really sad since the ban was lifted. merlin thinks maybe arthur wasn’t so good with magic after all. he goes to talk to him about it and arthur’s all like “no no it’s just- when you came to confess ur magic, i thought u were gonna tell me smthn else” cause obviously arthur’s the type of idiot that thinks someone can only have one secret and merlin’s been acting so much happier and lighter since the repeal so clearly he doesn’t care about arthur that way. “what did you think i was gonna tell you?” “it’s- uh- it’s stupid. i thought you- well i thought you were gonna tell me…” “what arthur” “ithoughtyouweregonnatellmeyouloveme” he basically mumbles but merlin hears. “…what?” he’s gobsmacked and arthur looks so insecure and won’t meet merlin’s eyes. before arthur can even blink, he’s being squeezed half to death by his own court sorcerer. “you clotpole, of course i love you.” arthur’s brain is short-circuiting and he’s all like “what?” and he can’t process what merlin said. merlin pulls back from the hug, grabs arthur’s face with both hands and forces him to make eye contact.
“arthur pendragon, i am in love with you.”
arthur’s eyes go even wider to the point where merlin thinks they may fall out, his mouth opens and closes as he processes.
when he says it, it comes out as barely a whisper.
“i love you too”
then boom merlin kisses him and it’s soft and sweet and arthur finally catches up to what’s happening and pulls merlin closer by the waist and they kiss for a long time then go cuddle on arthur’s bed and maybe talk idk
we love emotionally constipated arthur
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sameschmidtdiffname · 5 months
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Tumblr WILL NOT let me post the fic and this ask at the same time and I've tried legit five times. So THANK YOU anon for the request and I'm sorry for the weirdness in uploading. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this!
My Ghost.
Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader
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Summery: You don't know what happened that night. Things were fine, life was good, then your partner is on the news for all sorts of shit you never would've thought him capable of the day prior. He was dead, he was evil, and you were trying to move on. But what's the proper etiquette when the dead show up on your door unannounced?
Tags: No use of Y/N, hurt/comfort, fake death, mentions of drinking, drug use/dealing, grieving, arguing, cursing, flashbacks, brief suggestive scenes, suicidal thoughts.
Other Works in This Series: 'Repentance' (Prequel to 'My Ghost') • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')
Notes: The way I've been trying to upload this for two hours. Oh my fucking God. Anyways, everyone say thank you to anon for getting me to write something that doesn't make God cry.
-¤°》◇《°¤-
I'm not hard to please, but I'm not desperate despite what the rumors may say.
People enjoy gossip. People who don't know fuck all about you. And my standards are fine. Were fine. And I don't mean standards such as 'buys me flowers everyday' or 'doesn't deal coke.' I mean standards such as 'is a decent fucking person.'
"That's what I thought you were up until all of this fucking... disappearing for months!" I scream, anger fueling me. I don't let the other emotions win out, don't let them have a say. Because if I do, I'll be too conflicted and overwhelmed and then I'm gonna cry, and that's not fair.
People had warned me he was trouble. Terms such as 'wannabe cowboy,' 'rebel without a cause' were tossed around in warning. But to me, he was just Billy.
Then he was dead.
Now, he was here. He showed up at my door nine months after leaving me with a small little keychain on the kitchen table and a soft kiss on my forehead, saying he had some plans for that evening. But he'll be back soon.
Then he was on the news. And a gas station blew up. Gangs, stolen vehicles. He was probably dead. Things would be easier if he was dead.
Fine. Maybe I initially ignored warning signs. Maybe I was distracted by his handsome side profile, too busy admiring his nose to notice the occasions it was dusted with the trace of a fine powder. Maybe his hands were too beautiful for me to realize they were slipping money to men in dark jackets when we went out to the rougher parts of town. But he was mine and I was his, and overall he was a good person.
He was alive. He was alive and I was mad because if he was dead then at least it would be valid that for nine months I have had to deal with the accusatory stares of our neighbors assuming I knew, the pity from my loved ones, and the betrayel that kept me awake at night. It would mean he hadn't left me to deal with his repercussions, that maybe there was a valid excuse. An undiagnosed brain tumor that finally gave way to insanity, a gun to his head. Something that was not the worst case scenario of just... being an awful person. I could let his things rest around the house undisturbed, hiding from the world and waiting to find the courage to join him one day and living in denial in the meantime. What the fuck was all of this?
"I couldn't tell you," he keeps saying. "It was better if you knew nothing until I was sure I could come get you."
"Why didn't you just take me with you from the start?" I ask. I've been pacing the floor for the past twenty minutes ever since he showed up. It was better than throwing every breakable object in the cheap, worn down shack of a house at him, which was my second instinct. My first was to pull him into my arms, draw the curtains shut and hide him away so that he'll never leave again. Like an idiot.
He laughs bitterly. "You would not be asking that if you knew what the fuck I went through," he says. His words sound like they should be angry, but there's this lightness to them like he can't let himself think too much about it. It just makes me angrier.
"Don't fucking laugh!" I snap. "Do you think any of this is funny?"
"I think you're funny when you're mad," he deflects, smiling. "You got this whole routine. Pacing, nose twitching. I like the Shirley Temple stomps, like you're a kid."
I groan loudly, the noise almost sounding like a low scream in my throat.
"You owed money to fucking- who?" I yell.
"The details don't matter-"
"When I have been grieving your death for nine months, they fucking matter!" I snap. His brows furrow, his hands mid air as if to say 'the fuck did I do?'
"You know me, okay? I don't get caught," he says as though it were obvious.
"I know fucking nothing!" I practically scream.
When we met he was just a guy at a bar, handsome, wearing that same ridiculous jacket that I couldn't help but stroke the white fluff on, tequila running through my veins.
"Can I help you?" He asked, smirking.
"Just wanted to see what it felt like," I said.
"Wanna feel something else?" He asked, his chin resting on his head.
"Oh, fucking gross. Fuck o-"
"I was talking about this," he said, whipping out his keys to show off an odd, weirdly shaped keychain with short, stiff fuzz. "Don't call me a pervert just cause you're one."
He was smiling. It was an easy smile. Careless, happy with life. I loved that smile. It meant things were always alright as long as he was smiling.
He was smiling on the photo they used for the manhunt.
We'd danced the whole night. He didn't know hardly any of the songs, causing him to be off beat. I was too drunk to keep time, so I stepped on his leather boots enough times there was a visible scuff on the top of one by the end of the night. I always felt bad, offering to replace or help pay to fix it. He wouldn't let me.
"They're a keepsake," he'd insist. "A living memory." He wore them everyday.
He's wearing sneakers, today.
At the end of the night, I stumbled out of the bar with a note in my coat pocket. It took two weeks for me to wear that coat again, and when I found the slip I'd almost thrown it away, assuming it was something dumb. But when I saw the worst handwriting in the world displaying a number belonging to someone named 'Keychain Guy,' I almost couldn't wait to call.
"Bullshit," Billy snaps. "You know me better than anyone."
"Don't say that," I say, putting a hand out protectively to keep him away. "That's exactly why everyone thinks I was just fine with that whole- fucked up thing!"
A gas station burned. A stolen vehicle. People were dead. People were dead.
Billy was presumed dead.
There was no funeral. He had no family, and none of mine wanted to put money into something that would be protested by the whole town anyways. No body to bury, nothing to do but gather up his things and smoke what remained in his stash until people came to nurse me back to life. By that point there wasn't even relief in drugs. The taste simply reminded me of better times cooking in the kitchen as we blew the smoke into each others faces, or worse. Better. Whatever.
I never questioned when Billy went out of town. I knew his work had details I didn't want nor need to know. Money was tight. But Billy always came home with little things whenever he went on unexpected trips. Knick knacks, snacks, some item I'd seen at the store and picked up to make a comment about. Had he been particularly forthcoming about his dealing when we started dating? No. He said he worked for a local small business, which technically isn't untrue. But about six months in, he was the one who approached me and sat me down at the small, rickty round table to tell me the truth. And that's what mattered to me. The economy is shit and it's not like it was meth, so who am I to judge?
About a year into it, I was begging for him to do something else.
"I don't like you disappearing," I told him. "I'm scared one day you're gonna piss someone off and that'll be the end. Then what am I gonna do?"
"Then you're gonna make sure they don't fuck up my face during the embalming process for the funeral," Billy said around his hand rolled cigarette. I whip the small dish towel at him, making him laugh and protect his small ashtray that I made him for Christmas the year prior. It was shitty, uneven, and I'm 99% sure a fire hazard. But he wouldn't use any other ones unless I was the one who bought them for him, and even then he favored this one. 'When this place goes up in flames,' I thought, 'I'll regret that gift.'
I'd kept it by the kitchen window every day since he'd died. "Died." It was his spot.
He moves to sit there now, looking in his pockets for the small box of prerolled cigarettes.
"People know you weren't involved," he says dismissively.
"Your friends know. What about the old ladies at church? The checkout clerks at the store? How about the fucking mailman?" I shout, convinced I'm still talking to the dead. "You think they know the ins and outs of the local psychos support group?" I ask, gesturing and stepping closer.
I was the local outcast now. Not to be trusted, not worth kindness. Shame was my title, and when Billy appeared on my doorstep at an hour where only I was awake I was sure I'd caught the same awful disease that must have been what sent him spiraling that winter day. It wasn't until he pushed the door open fully, taking me into his arms and pressing a warm kiss to my lips that I knew he was real. It was a feeling I was in the early stages of forgetting, blurry and cold. But here he was, the stubble on his chin a bit longer and his ears missing the small hoops that had glittered in the sunlight when he walked out the door.
Then I'd pushed him away. And the fight began.
"I'm not a fucking psycho," he argues. His hands pat around his outfit, searching. "You got a lighter?"
"Fuck off." I kept his favorite in my left pocket. I had to be careful what things of his I wore or kept on my person. People close to me knew I would have never condoned his actions, but even they had glared at me in the early wake of Billy's death when I dared to wear one of his shirts out of the house, or more commonly one of his thick leather jackets. But a lighter can be hidden, and unless you had borrowed it you wouldn't know it had specifically been his. So I kept it with me all the time, just feeling it next to my skin with the only barrier being the fabric of my pocket. Without a thought, I cover the small item as though he can see right through me. Picking up on the hint, he's rises from the table and begins walking over to me.
"Don't be a dick, just let me borrow it," he says, holding out his hand.
"Fuck off," I snap.
"You've said that. I just need it for two seconds," he says as his hands begin to gently grab at me, one on my shoulder and the other dipping into my pocket.
"Get the fuck off of me!" I yell, slapping at him.
"Just let me have-"
He cuts himself off as he pulls out the lighter from my pocket, his thumb grazing over the printed picture. The Statue of David. He'd bought because it made us laugh. One side was the regular statue, the other a close up of its small genitals with cursive writing underneath spelling the art piece's name.
"Oh," Billy says quietly.
We stand for a moment, silent. He doesn't seem sure what to do. My lungs burn with unheaved sobs. I fucking hate this.
"You were gonna come back," I finally say quietly. I hate how my voice sounds when I'm upset. I hate that I'm wearing his dogtag, an item he'd bought at a World War II museum in middle school that he gave me for our first Christmas because we were both too broke to actually buy each other anything, hence the poorly made ashtray. I hate that when I sleep at night it's in his clothes that I rarely wash because the idea of losing his smell makes me want to scream. I hate that his scent is different from the bottle of cologne he kept next to my makeup, one time spilling all over the entire bathroom counter because we'd gotten too wrapped up in each other, dragging our nails down each others backs and watching ourselves in the mirror until one wrong move of my hand revealed he'd been a bit too careless about screwing the lid back on earlier in the day. I'd always warned him about that.
I'd been in the bathroom putting on my permanently scented blush when I got the text.
"I was going to," he said softly. "Then I couldn't."
"So what?" I say, not daring to turn and face him, choosing instead to stare at where the cheap, old wood paneling of the wall meets the shaggy, stained carpet that you have to wear shoes on due to the staples that have begun sticking out of it. "You just propose to someone and then pretend to die?"
Valentines Day was an awfully cheesy day to do it. So it's a good thing it was a technicality.
The day had been lovely. Billy had saved up a little to take me to a local hibachi place, telling me to wear my best outfit and jewelry. It was slightly overkill, but it's the small things in life, isn't it?
We'd come home with a bottle of wine, a low budget movie to ignore and hands searching desperately for each other.
"I love you," he'd said between pants. "You're mine."
"Buy a ring," I'd dared. Our minds were buzzed, the bottle half empty and our clothes thrown away without care. Took me weeks to find his both of his socks.
I hadn't meant for him to take it seriously. But I guess he decided it was time.
Two days later I thought it was odd when he walked into the house with my favorite lunch. It wasn't expensive really, we just usually got it for special occasions or days that had been mentally harder for me. And things were normal that day. I was getting ready for my shift, running around like I always do trying to make sure I've got everything.
"Your coffee's in the cup, will you just sit down?" He laughed, watching me. I quickly collected the take out box, sipping my coffee and wincing over its temperature.
"Fuck, that burns," I cursed. He wrapped his arms around me, trying to get me to sit at the table. "Baby, I can't," I protested softly, but I was laughing. He was peppering me in kisses, giving me those big puppy dog eyes everyone knew were my weakness. He wanted for nothing so long as he looked at me just like that.
"Just this once," he asked, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I couldn't help the blush and giggle that rose from me, but I also couldn't be late.
"I'll make up for it," I promised, slipping away and running into the bedroom to get my shoes. When I ran back in, pulling them on and coming to kiss him goodbye, I nearly fell over when I saw him on one knee, smiling and looking at me like 'I told you so.'
I don't like how itchy the ring feels on my middle finger as I twirl it in thought.
"You don't know what happened," he pleaded, his hands still on me. "If you would just listen to me-"
"The news gave a pretty good description, William. I don't think there's missing pieces in my head, unlike you," I say coldly, detaching from myself so to not have to deal with my emotions. This makes him stiffen, pulling away and resuming his place at the kitchen table, lighting his cigarette and placing the ashtray in front of him like nothing has changed when everything has.
It feels like I'm out of time. Like I've been shoved into a picture of what my life looked like before. Except the house was never this clean, clothes always scattered about. Not just in a fit of passion, we just had bad habits when it came to picking up. Billy would always say the chairs are more decorations then they are seats, anyways. "Why would you use those when you have such a nice seat here?" He'd ask, wiggling his hips and placing his hands behind his head, making me laugh.
Billy never looked so well put together in the house, usually in a wife beater and his hair framing his face. He'd always joked he looked like a dirty hippie around me, and I'd always show him how much I liked that. Not that he looked fantastic now. When we went out he was known for putting in effort. He always had more hair products than me, which I found funny. Though he refused makeup. Once I'd managed to talk him into eyeliner. 'Guyliner' I'd teased. He liked it, but said it should stay between us with a wink before asking where to get dinner. Now he sits before me in clothes obviously stolen to help him look unremarkable, his hair shaggy and uncut, so different from the man I loved.
"Who are you?" I asked him. That man didn't shrink away from accountability.
He sighed, smoke swirling around him as he wipes his face with his hand.
"I don't know. Can't tell if I'm better or worse, to be honest," he admits softly. His eyes look haunted, heavy bags underneath. It's the way his shoulders sag as though his will to go on is slowly draining from him in this very moment that makes me want to break now. Like whatever reason he had for still going was fruitless.
I didn't like the way we mirrored each other like this.
I slowly scuff my feet towards him, tapping my fingers against the back of the wooden chair before pulling it out to sit across from him. It's a start.
"So if you tell me," I say slowly. "Am I going to wish you were dead?"
He doesn't look at me. "I don't know."
Great.
The night is long. Morning comes without an invitation, the blue sky beginning to glow through the shitty blinders I always told Billy we should replace one day. I understand less than when we started, we've both cried more than once, and between our fingers is cigarette stubs and the feeling of each others skin, hands laced together as though another click of an old remote to an outdated TV with batteries you had to rub against your shirt to make work would reveal the smouldering remains of a gas station, displaying the estimated body count and deeming one of us as a devil of the worst kind, ripping us apart.
"Jesus," I say when it's over.
"Yeah," he says. "So, needless to say, my anxiety is shit now."
It isn't funny. It's a tragic statement. But when we both glance into the others eyes, it's his small little smirk that makes me laugh like I haven't since my mother sent me the local news report with his picture covering the front page. The same one that shows everything is still okay.
"I'm sorry," I say. Then the laughing turns into sobbing, and then I can't breathe. And I really am sorry.
I'm sorry I couldn't help him. I'm sorry he went out on a romantic whim and borrowed money he shouldn't have for the ring I was too ashamed to wear on the proper finger. I'm sorry he couldn't come back for me. And I'm sorry for hating him when he showed up unannounced at my door.
"Hey," he says gently, standing and crossing to me, removing his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders to comfort me. It's unfamiliar, evidence of a life he wouldn't have led if he had just stayed by me and it upsets me, but his lips against my wet cheeks ground me, familiar and soothing me, coaxing me into wrapping my arms around him, clawing my trembling fingers through his hair. Still soft. Still combed.
"You can't stay here," I choke out.
"I know," he says quietly. There's nothing for a long time, our bodies shaking as we cling to each other. In our arms are the unspoken months of grief. Of his longing for our home, of my insanity. Death looms over the furniture, light hidden away lest it take away my sacred treasures I'd used to keep his spirit close to me.
"I can't lose you again," I say.
"I know," he says, smelling my hair and placing a soft kiss on top of my head. "But I can't promise stability if you follow me."
My brows furrow, my mind racing in confusion, my hopes rising. Follow?
"I know a guy," he says quickly, his arms tighter as if scared I'll turn away. "Says he can get me a new identity and a one way ticket to somewhere. I don't know where yet, but it's worth a try."
My fingers trace his back, swirling invisible patterns over his shirt. He'd always liked that after a rough day. I can feel the tension begin to slowly fall away from him at the contact, his breathing growing deeper and more steady. "And you want me to come?"
"Need," he corrects. "I don't regret leaving you, but I can't stay away. Even if it's more kind to let you mourn and find a better life."
A new life. A new identity. New name, new everything.
Maybe I am insane. Maybe this exactly the kind of mental break Billy had that day. Maybe I was doomed to follow his spirit no matter what. Maybe this is a second chance. Maybe God had granted me a mercy I'll never be able to repay, no matter how many night I spend in worship at a church or between this man's legs. Maybe I'd spend every day looking over my shoulder, paranoid and eventually turning cruel to strangers so to keep this one person everyone told me to let go of from the very beginning.
But the same Billy.
"Can he do a marriage license?" I ask after a long silence. I can hear him laugh, pulling away to look at me.
"That eager?" He asks softly, his eyes gentle, thumb stroking my cheek. I lean into his touch, softly placing a kiss on his palm.
▪︎》◇《▪︎
"Well," I say, "I already have the ring."
Masterlist
As cute as this was, please have better standards than the Reader I wrote in this fic. No man is worth that. I am DEADASS. Anyways, love y'all <3
170 notes · View notes
nightprompts · 9 months
Text
&. 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 (𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧) 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.
( dialogue prompts taken from episodes 5 & 6 ( "eat at baratie!" & "the chef and the chore boy" ) of the netflix live action one piece series. feel free to edit and change as you seem fit. )
❛ how about we sail away as fast as we can? ❜
❛ about the battle, you wanna talk about it? ❜
❛ there's something on the breeze. smells like butter. soy sauce. and meat. ❜
❛ think he has brain damage? ❜
❛ i smell food, which means that there's someone somewhere cooking. ❜
❛ what's a... baratie? ❜
❛ let's eat! ❜
❛ you'll have to excuse them. they're idiots. ❜
❛ wanna take this outside? ❜
❛ are you asking me to dance? 'cause i kind of had my eye on that blonde at table eight. ❜
❛ i call it a true bluefin sauté. it's elephant tuna, seared asparagus, in a sweet soy reduction. ❜
❛ if i gotta sling one more prime rib medium-well, i am going to drop dead of boredom, you old shitbag! ❜
❛ this ain't gonna be a fight. i'm just going to kill him. ❜
❛ hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food. ❜
❛ one of our signature cocktails to help you choke down your meal? ❜
❛ apologies, madam, i didn't see you there. ❜
❛ something wrong with your eye? ❜
❛ just blinded by your beauty. ❜
❛ nami's got a boyfriend. ❜
❛ did i catch you in the middle of something? ❜
❛ just killing some time. ❜
❛ who's the quarry? ❜
❛ doesn't sound like much of a challenge. ❜
❛ why are you after me? ❜
❛ you woke me from my nap. ❜
❛ i can't eat another bite. but it's so good. ❜
❛ who the hell is monkey d. luffy? ❜
❛ i don't even think there's liquor in this. it tastes just like candy. ❜
❛ who's ready for another drink? my treat. ❜
❛ i don't really do regret. no point in looking back. ❜
❛ sometimes, when i try to look ahead, all i see is back. ❜
❛ you know, you're a really good cook. ❜
❛ if a man is hungry, i feed him. ❜
❛ what are you carrying around that's so heavy? ❜
❛ i bet i know more about you than you do about me. ❜
❛ i guess something about you, you drink. you guess something about me, i drink.❜
❛ i have business with your captain. if you know what's good for you, you'll hand him over. ❜
❛ i've been following your career since i was a child. it's an honor to finally meet you, sir. which is why it pains me to inform you that tomorrow... you're going to die. ❜
❛ accept my challenge. you'll see how serious i am. ❜
❛ you want me to say you're the best? you're the best. okay? ❜
❛ you're the best i've ever seen, but you are not better than him. ❜
❛ why do you give a shit? ❜
❛ because you're my friend, you idiot. ❜
❛ you said it yourself. you don't have any friends. ❜
❛ what is that? i'm here for a sword fight. ❜
❛ i don't hunt rabbits with a cannon. ❜
❛ you're brave. i'll give you that. ❜
❛ wounds on the back are a swordsman's greatest shame. ❜
❛ this world could use a few more wild cards. ❜
❛ it's too soon for you to die. grow strong and come find me. i'll be waiting. ❜
❛ you could never fail me. ❜
❛ look, i'm not gonna lie to you. he's lost a lot of blood. it might be too late for him. but it might not be. ❜
❛ he's got one foot in each world right now, caught between life and death. you have to find a way to keep him tethered to our world. ❜
❛ nice of you to announce yourself. ❜
❛ i don't take orders. not even from the likes of you. ❜
❛ what's the matter? don't like fish? ❜
❛ if you don't want the fish, i got two-inch t-bones in the kitchen. or maybe you're in the mood for saffron risotto? ❜
❛ i can make anything. just tell me what you want. ❜
❛ being a captain, it's the toughest job in the world, okay? ❜
❛ how'd you two meet? were you on his crew or something? ❜
❛ oregano's for savages! ❜
❛ you've got a sharp tongue on you, boy. how about i cut it out and fry it up with some pig fat? ❜
❛ do what you want, but i'm not gonna die here. ❜
❛ they're all dead, except for us. ❜
❛ you ate it? you ate your own leg? ❜
❛ you don't even know me. why would you do that for a stranger? ❜
❛ so i'm gonna need you to live on. and i'm gonna need you to fulfill that dream... for both of us. ❜
❛ have any idea what that's like? having someone lose a limb to save your life? ❜
❛ sometimes, when you are in charge, you have to make the tough decisions. ❜
❛ i'd do anything to save him. anything. except stand in the way of his dream. ❜
❛ isn't there something that you want? something more than anything else in this world? ❜
❛ not everyone gets to follow their dreams. ❜
❛ did you not hear what i just said? they are hunting you. we need to run. ❜
❛ i can't let innocent people get hurt because of me. ❜
❛ i hear you're looking for me. ❜
❛ so this is the pirate i've heard so much about? ❜
❛ do you know who i am, boy? ❜
❛ how'd you even know how to find me? ❜
❛ if you bow down to me, i might even let you serve in my kingdom. ❜
❛ i don't bow down to any man. ❜
❛ i told you in the bar i didn't have any friends, but the truth is, i couldn't let myself have them... because i always end up hurting the people closest to me. ❜
❛ why waste your time killing a devil fruit eater? let the sea do it for you. ❜
❛ what is your problem? ❜
❛ me? i'm fine. you're the one with the problem. ❜
❛ you're not gonna be anything, not if you stay here. ❜
❛ it's not like i can just leave. ❜
❛ don't you get it? it's one thing to have a dream. it's another to go after it. ❜
❛ you want my permission? you got it. ❜
❛ i didn't know what to say before, but i know what to say now, and it's so simple. i need you. ❜
❛ you gonna keep talking, or let me get some sleep? ❜
❛ i vow to stand by your side from now until the end. ❜
❛ you're my captain, and i'm your first mate. ❜
❛ heard you guys need a cook. ❜
❛ why are we bringing the waiter? ❜
❛ you keep your feet dry. ❜
❛ you know, all these years, living under your shitty roof, cooking at your shitty restaurant... i owe you my life! ❜
❛ thank you for putting up with my shit all these years, old man. ❜
❛ i'll never forget you! ❜
274 notes · View notes
asherthehimbo · 7 months
Text
Outliving the stars | Choi San
synopsis: You've always felt a part of you was missing, the desire for something greater only being lessened when you were gazing at the stars. You know you lost something, someone, you just dont remember what, who. Maybe the astrology major your friend sent you on a blind date with has the answers.
Pairing: Choi San x Male!reader
Info: one shot, words(2.1K),
Trope: reincarnation, Immortal x mortal, hurt/comfort
Warnings: mentions of nightmares, anxiety, topic of death, suggestive jokes, it's said they have sex but no actual smut, injuries, birthmarks shaped like scars, insecurity, self scrutinizing, social anxiety, overthinking, talks of past lives
Song inspo: Burn out the stars - Bryce savage
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It was at times like these that you wished you could punch your best friend. Wooyoung was sweet, but you swear he had it out for you, sending you out on a blind date with nothing but a first name. Now you were standing at the planetarium entrance like an idiot waiting for someone you didn't even know.
Wooyoung had pesterd you for three weeks until you finally gave in. He kept trying to set you up with one of his classmates, and you were too tired to register what you were agreeing to. "Come on [Name], you can't keep being hung up on some mystery guy from your dreams. San, on the other hand is perfect, broad shoulders, an astrology major, rich, handsome face, smooth voice and he's kind" Wooyoung rambled on as you were sitting in your dorm, trying to finish the economics paper you had that was due on Friday.
"Do you want me to go out with this guy, or do you want to do so yourself?" You asked him, only receiving a pillow to your face as a response. Sighing, you looked at Wooyoung, who was taking up your entire bed. "If I go on this date, would you let me finish my paper in silence?"
Wooyoung immediately jumped up from the bed. "YES, OKAY YAY!I'm gonna go tell San you agreed! Oh! This is gonna be so much fun! SATURDAY 1PM SHARP, " Wooyoung shouted while jumping around before sharply turning on his heel to sprint out of the room, leaving with a shout of "WEAR THOSE CUTE JEANS I BOUGHT YOU!"
You only sighed, turning back to your paper and relishing in the silence.
You did, in fact, end up wearing the jeans he bought you, black baggy jeans with white stars splattered on them, matched with your red converse, and a red hoodie.
You did not want to be here, it was cold, people were staring (probably because of the scar on your face, a voice in your head told you, you ignored it) and you were craving a strawberry refresher. You guess arriving an hour early wasn't the best course of action, but you were up early, not being able to sleep the night before.
Dreams of your faceless lover had once again plagued your mind. It had been a common occurrence ever since you turned 10. You would be cuddled up in the arms of a man you could not remember, but you knew him. In a soft grass field he would be holding you tightly, you would both be watching the stars, you listening as he points out different constellations, these dreams were safe, they made you feel at ease.
But all too often, these dreams would evolve into nightmares, the same 7 scenes playing out. Your therapist had said it must have been a physiological way to deal with your own insecurities. The birthmarks that littered your skin had always looked like scars. You remember talking to her when you were 12. She said it was your brain trying to justify the marks, trying to create a story for them.
You believed her. After all, she knew better, but these dreams just felt so real, so vivid. You would hear your own heartbeat slow down and hear the cries of your mystery lover as he holds onto you. You could feel the tears dripping from his face onto yours. No matter what turn these nightmares had, they always ended with you dying in his arms.
You guess Wooyoung had been right in his concern, as your best friend he knew first hand the effect these dreams had on you. The nights you wake up gasping for air, vomiting out your dinner, clawing at your neck because something in your throat is burning. The times you're awake while your consciousness is still trapped in whatever nightmare you were experiencing. He had been there since the age of 10, he had been there.
You rubbed together the two sleeves of your hoodie, starting to feel more uncomfortable as time passed by. People were walking past, laughing, and giggling at one another. You wondered what was so funny, what were they all laughing at? Were they laughing at you? no, you didn't do anything funny, did you? oh, it's your face, right? Your face is funny, it's ugly, creepy, the scar covering your eye, one you did not deserve. A mutated freak born with scars that were not earned a fake, a- "[Name]?" A hand on your shoulder disrupts your anxiety fueled thoughts.
You turn around to find a black haired man, he's a little shorter than you, although his shoulders are broad. Jawline sharp, eyes as soft as a warm blanket on a winter's night, despite the intimidating structure of the man, his eyes, his smile, his dimples, he seems inviting, familiar almost.
He stands smiling at you, the arm he used to grab your attention is hovering awkwardly in the air, his cheeks are flushed, a pink matching one of the familiar drinks in his hand. "Umm, I'm San? your date. " he seems unsure of himself, but you find it cute, having to suppress a giggle so as to not make him feel bad.
You give him a small smile as you mentally thank Wooyoung for choosing someone good looking,"Nice to meet you, San." You nod your head at him as you shift your weight between your feet. You're being so awkward right now, but something tells you that San doesn't mind.
Despite your lack of social skills, the interaction itself does not seem awkward. Although you can feel something straining it, you brush it off to first date jitters. "Oh!um I also got us some drinks, Wooyoung said you liked strawberry refreshes, although I don't know if he was messing with me. He has a tendency to do that lately, but um drink?" San asks as he lifts up the hand, holding two drinks questioningly. His shoulders seem to tense as he awaits your reaction.
"Woo didn't lie, I do like Strawberry refreshers, thank you" you nod your head at him, his shoulders relax as he lets out a breath of relief, he picks up the pink drink from the holder in his hand and gives it to you. Your fingers touch for a moment as you take the drink from him and you jump back a little, San doesn't seem all that surprised, but he chuckles "Static electricity's a bitch, huh?"
You don't think that's how it works, but you laugh along nonetheless. It's weird as you walk with San into the planetarium. You don't like new people, don't feel comfortable around them, yet with San, it's different. You feel safe with him. He feels so familiar.
You spend the day following San around the planetarium, he excitedly points out constellations, and you swear the fake stars above your head shine dimmer than the light in Sans eyes. Somewhere along the line, your hand had been intertwined with his, as a precaution to not lose one another, you told yourself.
The date ends when the sky outside matches the one in the planetarium, a dark purple background with little specks of light twinkling above you both. The date lasted the whole day and you were having so much fun you didn't even realize, Wooyoungs gonna kill you for not telling him how everything went immediately but you can't find it in yourself to care about the headache your best friend will inevitably give you tomorrow morning.
That night, you sit on your bed, smiling down at the goodnight text from San, despite him having wished you a goodnight merely a few hours before when he walked you to your dorm. That night is the first night you sleep peacefully, no dreams of your mystery lover, no dieing, no waking up in a cold sweat despite it being winter. Nothing
Instead that night you sleep, cuddled up with the tiny red star plushie that San won for you at one of the planetarium games, you named her 'astéri' the greek word for star. Also, the exact name you put as your contact for the man who won her for you.
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Your relationship with San had been a fast development, one date, then two, then you start eating lunch together, he starts walking you to classes, he joins your friends and you on movie nights, he plays games with Yunho. San becomes a part of your life faster than you can imagine, and you don't even care.
It's on your hundred day anniversary, a hundred days of dates and hangouts, and obviously being together despite no official title, that San officially asks you to be his boyfriend.
It's an emotional ordeal. He made a picnic in his backyard, creating a fort where you could both lay down and watch the stars on the soft grass. It's summer now, much hotter than when you first met, you wear a red tank top. San has expressed his love for your collarbones before, and thinking back to the moment makes you blush.
He was a bit tipsy when he blurted it out, face flushed pink given the alcohol of the drinking game he had played with your friends earlier, the room was hot, filled with college boys and liquor, so of course you took off your jacket, San had started cheering, then giggling, talking about how much he liked your neck, your collarbones. You don't know if he remembers this moment, you hope he doesn't, it would save you the embarrassment.
San presents you with a necklace on the night of his confession, a black leather strap threaded through a red star that's rimmed with silver. On the back of the necklace, the name 'astéri' is carved, under it lies numbers which look like coordinates. You don't ask.
San slips the necklace around your neck, fingers trailing dangerously slow along your shoulders. You were scared at first, you liked San, loved him, as much as you trusted him, you were scared of what his reaction would be.
He may have seen you in strappy clothing before, but he's never seen the extent to which your birthmarks your scars cover your body. The worst of them were located on your waist.
Despite your hesitance, the way San looks at you after you agree to be his, after you agree to let him be yours, it makes you want to kiss him, let him embrace every part of you and let you do the same to him.
He looks at you like you yourself were the star and who were you to deny a mortal access to a celestial entity?
That night, you learn the true extent of San's love for you, the way he trails his fingers overy every inch of your skin, extra soft kisses placed on the marks littering your body, he's gentle almost as if he knows the phantom pains they bring you, despite you never having told him.
That night you and San become, you and San, under the stars. On the soft blanket he laid out in his backyard as the warm wind of summer nips at your exposed skin.
It's when you're lying down, breathless, in between San's arms that he starts talking, answering your question from earlier that night. The numbers on the back of the necklace, the coordinates, are of a star San bought in your name. He literally bought you a star and named it 'astéri'.
"You deserve the whole galaxy, and yet I do not have the power to retrieve it for you. This way, you can have a piece of the outer world, and it can have a piece of you"
You don't think you've ever felt so loved in your life. You had fallen for San so quickly, so hard. It's hard to imagine a time when he wasn't in your life, despite the fact that you hadn't known him long, everything with him just felt so right.
You were sure you were meant to be with San in every lifetime, meant to spend every moment of your life with him. When you told him this, it had been the first time you ever saw him cry, genuinely cry. It was as if your words affected him more than you knew. You're sure they did.
That's one thing you never did understand about San, he has told you everything about himself, but you still felt as if something was missing, a piece of information locked away, it was like he was guarding it, scared you would find out. He thought he hid it well, but you prided yourself on knowing people, knowing your boyfriend. You trusted him. He would tell you when he was ready.
You and San would watch the stars burn out together, watch the world fall in each others arms, protected by a love so pure that the only thing left in the universe would be you and San
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