#and timmy reached level 2 on time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nerdpoe · 2 months

Note

3 Fanon ideas to make a prompt from :)

1). Ectoplasm is Lazarus Water but purified

2). Ghosts can retreat to their cores

3). Protocore Jason AU

Danny has to retreat into his core, Jason somehow finds him and absorbs it. It looks like Jason is pregnant as his own ecto is being purified and then given to Danny's Core.

Enjoy:)

This is a full prompt, though? Okay I'll write mpreg. Gonna bypass that "looks" and make it an "is" though, throwin in some reincarnation and trans Jay.

~~~~~~

Jason was doing one last round before he left for Gotham. Before he left to prove a point. To teach Bruce a lesson he'd never forget.

He wasn't sentimental, no, he was just checking to make sure he wasn't forgetting any sickass weapons that may have fallen behind a dresser or something.

"Todd," a small, imperious voice demanded from behind him. "Observe my new pet rock."

Jason sighed and stood up to humor the little demon.

The kid was holding a weird glowing, cracked orb. It was radiating frost, and Damian had to use cloth between his hands and the magic stone.

"Damian," Jason started, keeping his voice level. "Where did you get that?"

The kid sniffed with all the superiority of a spoiled brat, looking proud and holding the obviously enchanted stone higher.

"Since Grandfather and Mother say that animals as pets would be a weakness, I decided to search the lesser treasure room for a suitable inanimate pet."

Jason sucked in air through his teeth in a soft hiss. There was no "lesser" treasure room; there was the "safe" treasure and the "unknown" treasure. Where was Talia when he needed her?

"Look, kid, I don't think-" Jason started, reaching for the weird rock, just as Damian started pulling away.

"-You are jealous that I have this rock and you do not-"

"-Damian, please, just hand over the fucking-"

"-Cease your attempted theft this instant-"

"-Damian come here you little shit-"

Jason tripped. Damian tripped. The weird rock went into the air...and landed on Jason's chest. It melted into him with a sharp flash of pain.

And that was that.

Damian stared at Jason's stomach, aghast.

"You stole my rock!"

By the time Talia arrived to see what was keeping Jason so long, he and Damian were rolling on the ground biting each other.

~~~~~~

Months later, Jason was beyond ready to murder the newest Robin. He'd originally planned to just beat the shit out of the kid, but he'd been having a rough time.

He was losing his carefully crafted abs.

He was getting soft.

Normally that was whatever, but he was trying to be intimidating, and being soft in any way was definitely going to trigger the dysphoria he thought he'd outrun.

It made no sense; he worked out daily, had started eating on a caloric deficit, drank nothing but water, and made sure what he ate was home-cooked.

Then, one month before go-time with Timmy, he'd started getting nauseous.

He felt bloated, tired, hungry, and most of all; pissed.

As he stalked through the Tower that the newest Robin was hiding in, he may have, perhaps, let the millions of small annoyances pile into one big rage filled pity party with a kid as the target.

It really didn't help that he hadn't been able to don his replica of his own Robin costume, because he...he had pudge. He didn't fit in it.

It was infuriating.

He knew it wasn't little TimTams fault, but he was gonna take his rage out on someone, and the kid was the unfortunate closest person he had beef with.

Was he overreacting? Probably.

But it was lash out or cry, and he refused to cry.

On top of everything, the one thing that had helped with any of the symptoms, the extra purified Lazarus Water that Talia had given him to 'act as an emergency first aide', was gone. He'd drank it all.

With that supply out, he was.

Well.

He was going to kill little Timmy, fuck the consequences.

But little Timmy was...doing a very good job of staying completely out of sight. The kid had been acting far more neurotic than he normally did, only letting out a small gasp when he'd seen Red Hood and immediately darted into some sort of weird hidey hole.

Jason hadn't been able to find him since.

The kid had added his own gopher network to the Tower, fuck.

The speaker system crackled on, just as Jason was about to start laying down bombs.

"Red Hood, please consider your condition. Do not do anything that would raise your blood pressure, or uh..." the newest Robin's voice trailed off, keyboard audibly clacking as he looked something up. "...Or eat peas? No, that can't be right. Whatever, look, just stay calm, take a breather, and don't overstress yourself. It's not good for the uh. The second...yeah. Not good. Do not do. Why am I so dumb sounding when it comes to things like this? Shoulda gotten Steph..."

The kids voice trailed off as he berated himself, but Jason was too busy fighting off the horribly dawning realization of what the kid was saying.

Which couldn't be true, because there was no way for the kid to know, and Jason hadn't had sex in...well. Years.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Jason gasped, thanking his past self for putting the vocoder in his helmet. It sounded far more threatening.

"Oh. Uh. During one of your fights with Batman, you got glanced by something sharp, and there was a little blood. Don't worry though! I didn't tell Batman! I just wanted to see if I could figure it out on my own! So I ran your blood and now I...know. That was actually probably like, really invasive. Sorry Jason."

Jason knew the fight the little Bird was talking about. He'd had a random wave of vertigo, barely dodged a batarang. He'd had to do his own stitches afterwards.

"...You know? Know what?"

"Okay, I should clarify. I didn't tell Batman, but I kinda needed help scrubbing everything, so I had to ask Oracle to help, so she knows, and she couldn't keep it from Nightwing, because he's felt super guilty about how he treated you, but Batman definitely does not know."

Jason sat down on the nearest chair, feeling like the wind had been ripped from his sails. He took the helmet off and dropped in on the ground in favor of running a hand through his hair.

"How can you be sure B doesn't know it's me?" He rasped, staring at nothing.

"Because can you imagine he'd leave you alone for a second if he knew you were alive, much less up the duff?"

Jason had nothing to say to that. Either Ra's had been up to some fucked up experiments while he'd been asleep, or he was the victim of miraculous conception.

The newest Robin was rambling over the speakers, but Jason ignored him and held his head in his hands. The glowing orb flashed through his mind, and Jason didn't even have the energy to curse Damian for doing stupid kid shit.

He was just thankful that the kid hadn't been a viable host.

"Tim, shut up. Do you have an ultrasound machine here?" Jason interrupted, steeling himself. He was an adult sort of, one year before it was technically true, and he could freak out later.

It was time to do adult things.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Why? Has your gyno not done one yet?"

"Don't have one, didn't know. Where is it?"

"...I probably should have broken that news to you like, way softer."

~~~~~~

Jason was...pulling back. His criminal empire was still growing strong, and he was making a shit ton of money from it, but he was pulling back from actively provoking Batman.

As much as he wanted B to be the one to kill the Joker, he knew that the older man probably wouldn't do that, and Jason wasn't going to risk getting anywhere near that maniac while he was pregnant.

Batman had certainly noticed the change in behavior, but whenever he tried to intrude into Crime Alley, Nightwing or Robin would intercept him.

Jason.

Jason wasn't sure what he wanted to do about Bruce.

Dick was slowly earning forgiveness for his pas actions, piece by piece. Tim was surprisingly good at being supportive, and Jason's hatred for him was starting to wear away to the realization that this was just a kid.

Oracle, whoever she was, had apparently designed the best security system in the world and quietly renovated an apartment into a safehouse, just for him.

He hated the charity, but it was better than what he could make at the moment with how many enemies he'd gained.

As the months passed by, he found himself hiding away in the gifted apartment more and more.

The dysphoria was...bad.

There were no more mirrors in the apartment.

The kid, which the ultrasound confirmed they were, was a small one, thank fuck. His belly had popped out, true to most pregnancies, but it was relatively contained.

It was still enough to make a horrible sense of wrongness almost knock him off his feet every time he looked down.

He was, essentially, useless.

If it wasn't for the trio of well-meaning extended family (maybe? he had his suspicions about Oracle), he probably would have just laid down on the floor of his apartment and not gotten up.

Tim, surprisingly, had adopted some stupid Alvin Draper alias and was running his crime network in his stead. He was doing a concerningly good job, actually, and Jason and Dick had exchanged more than one worried glance over the kid's head.

Dick had moved in, citing that Bruce was getting suspicious and it was easier to pretend that he'd moved back to Gotham than it was to continually make up excuses. In reality, he was making sure Jason didn't lay down and rot, keeping him active and healthy.

Jason was...trying. He was trying. But between needing to stop HRT and the changes and his fucking voice and just. Everything. All of it.

He hated it.

But he still wasn't sure what he wanted to do with the kid.

Dick and Tim had set up a nursery, just in case. Dick had also surreptitiously reached out to the Kents, also just in case. There was no judgement. If he decided to keep the kid or give it away, it would be well taken care of.

That should have been a weight off his shoulders.

But instead, he felt like he was getting worse.

He was so, so fucking tired. He was starving but he couldn't stomach the food Dickwing put in front of him. He had worked so hard to build his criminal empire, but when Tim tried to tell him about it he couldn't focus long enough understand what was being said. He knew that they were getting more and more concerned, and when he woke up one morning and vomited straight Lazarus Water, Tim snapped.

"I'm calling B."

"Tim, no, we can-"

"-No, Dick, we need to figure out what's going on! This isn't something Leslie can handle, we need Bruce!"

Maybe it was just something buried deep inside Jason, but he agreed. He wanted his dad, not a doctor. He didn't care about Tim's reasoning, he just. He agreed. He wanted Bruce.

"Do it," Jason rasped from the floor, leaning into the cold tile. "Get B."

~~~~~~

Jason was still on the bathroom floor when a set of far, far heavier footsteps paused at the doorway.

The wood from the doorframe creaked as whoever it was tightened their grip on it.

Their breathing stuttered. They swallowed.

The footsteps continued, and they knelt next to Jason, wordlessly running their fingers through his hair.

"Hey Jaylad," Bruce whispered, voice tight and controlled even as his hand shook. "Looks like you've got a bit of a situation. Wanna tell me what happened?"

"Got knocked up by a magic rock," Jason muttered, thoroughly enjoying the hand in his hair. "But it ain't going right, and I'm tired and hungry all the time, and I'm throwing up the Lazarus Pits."

"The magic rock info is new," he heard Tim mutter from the hall, right before he was forcibly shushed by Dick.

"Did you have any weird cravings? Any symptoms that don't normally match a pregnancy?" Bruce asked, keeping his voice calm and controlled even as he lifted Jason from the floor and into his lap. "Should I get Constantine on the phone?"

Jason let it happen, turning to hide his face from the shitshow that had been his life for the past six months and shoving it into Bruce's stupid fancy shirt.

"Had Lazarus water. Drank it. I'm hungry but I can't eat anything. I can hear the kid chirp sometimes."

"Like a bird? That's adora-"

"-Shut up Dick not now!"

"You shut up!"

"You...drank. Lazarus Water." Bruce repeated, voice stilted as he clearly started working through something in his head. "I....hm. Okay. I'm...I'm going to call Constantine." Jason couldn't help the snort at the clear distaste in Bruce's voice as he said that.

He expected Bruce to put him down and go get changed into his Batman kit.

He did not expect Bruce to adjust his hold, lean back onto the cabinets, and make the call then and there.

~~~~~~

Constantine was officially unofficially his doctor for the duration of his pregnancy.

That was not something that anyone wanted, Bruce especially.

Jason wanted to throw up and aim it at the Hellblazer, but he had a feeling the man had been covered in worse and would, at best, be unfazed.

At worst, tempted to just smear it on Jason to prove a point.

The Mage of the hour himself was hovering over Jason, eyes unfocused as his glowing hands rested on the despised baby bump.

Jason was laying on the couch, trying not to let the sound of Bruce's pacing drive him up a wall.

"That," Constantine started, head tilting as if he was listening to something. "That is a core. And a baby. And another core. Two Ghost Cores, two bodies. If you're meetin' the needs of the physical, and you're still havin' issues, prolly need to see to the spritual, love."

"Don't call him love," Bruce warned, pausing his pacing long enough to glare at the Mage.

Constantine didn't bother to acknowledge him.

"Don't suppose you've got any spare Lazarus Water lying around, eh?" The man asked instead, eyes refocusing as he removed his hands from Jason's person.

Jason shook his head, but Tim nodded his.

Everyone stared at Tim.

Tim shrugged.

"What? It's under the city. Not like anyone will miss it if we take some."

"How. Tim, how do you know that?" Dick asked, sounding a little scared.

"Because I found it? I tried throwing dead rats in it but it doesn't work on rats, so I tried larger dead animals that had gotten down there-"

"-B you've raised Dr. Frankenstein," Jason groaned, covering his eyes from the realities of a mad scientist little brother.

"But I'm not an undead being stitched together?" Tim asked.

"You uncultured swine," Jason snarled, practically throwing himself into a sitting position and was quickly met with Constantine trying to wrangle him back down. "It's common fucking knowledge that Frankenstein was the doctor, not the monster, and if you paid any attention in English class-"

"-I'm gonna go get Lazarus Water okay bye!" Tim shouted, bolting for the door.

~~~~~~

Jason drank his fifth juice pack of Lazarus Water, finally starting to feel like himself again, and stared at Bruce.

Bruce, to his credit, was clearly trying very hard not to stare back.

Jason imagined this was rather hard, given that he couldn't stop fucking purring. Apparently, that was a Thing that his body could and would do, according to his unofficial doctor.

Dick and Tim were helping Constantine put the Lazarus Water into the juice packets, all of them desperately pretending that they weren't there at all and trying to be as quiet as possible.

"So, Hellblazer. Nothing to say about the Big Bad Batman?" Jason asked, eyes never leaving said man.

"Not particularly any of my business, mate. I don't really care one way or another."

Bruce actually looked a little put out at that, much to Jason's satisfaction.

"I imagine you have questions," Jason sighed, finishing off his juice pack.

Bruce finally turned to look at him head on, gaze steady.

"They can wait. Do you have any plans for...this?" Bruce didn't motion towards Jason's stomach, but he didn't have to.

"...Maybe. I don't even really know what this is." Jason muttered, sinking further into his chair.

"I told you, love, it's a baby. With a ghost core. It was probably an adult ghost, at one point, but if it was cracked near as bad as you say, it was either reincarnate or disappear." Constantine shrugged, taping another stupid tiny straw to another juice box and moving to repeat the action. "Either way, since it's reincarnation, the baby ain't gonna know tit from tat. 'S just a baby."

That. Damn. If he'd been faced with the same choice, he probably would have done the same thing.

"You keep saying that. What does a ghost core do when it's in a human?" Bruce asked, knuckles white on the couch's armrest.

"Dunno, haven't seen it before. Heard of it, though. Just makes the person powerful, but now sure how much. Flight is definitely gonna be there, though, so I'd ask supes for some pointers." Constantine answered without really answering, true to form for him.

Jason heaved himself up and waved everyone off as they started to get to their own feet to help him. "I'm gonna take a nap. Snipe at each other in here and don't fucking bother me."

~~~~~~

Jason was disgusting.

Alfred and Bruce and everyone else assured him he wasn't, but he absolutely was.

It was so bad he'd gone ahead and, without informing anybody, arranged for an induced labor at Gotham General as soon as he could.

He didn't want to deal with Dick getting scared and frantic, or Tim overplanning and having a mental breakdown, or Bruce's rigid shoulders as he both tried to apologize and do something stupid like take over from the actual doctor.

Alfred would probably be composed, but if Alfred acted a little off then they'd know.

Hell, Jason had started getting some Braxdon hicks contractions and he swore he watched Bruce's hair grey in real time.

So at the eight and a half month mark, Jason lied to everyone and told them he was going to another safehouse to get away from their coddling.

He ignored their objections and reached for the keys to his car-

-and pissed himself.

Or, it felt like he did.

The apartment went dead silent as everyone looked down.

Then the contractions really hit.

~~~~~~

Bruce actually did try to take over the maternity ward and do the doctors jobs.

Jason was delighted to have an excuse to kick him out.

He couldn't force the man to avenge his murder, but he could make him wait in the waiting room like the rest of the peasants.

Alfred he allowed to stay, though.

~~~~~~

Jason still hadn't decided what to do with the kid.

He didn't know if he was gonna send them off to a farm or if he was gonna keep them.

So he let himself hold them, to see if any of the disgust he'd felt during the pregnancy had been directed at the kid or if it was all just him hating how he looked.

The little bean of a child, eyes bluer than his own, proceeded to free one arm to pull on Jason's bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

Ah.

Nah, the hatred had been towards how he looked.

This one was his, the Kents could get visitation rights.

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timchalamet-devoted · 1 year

Text

Trip to the 'City of Love' (part 3)

Here is the third and final part of this series. I'm actually quite happy with how it turned out, however, this was my first time writing smut, so I must admit I'm a bit nervous. I hope you enjoy it, and I'd love to hear any feedback that you may have!

Summary: A romantic day in the city ends with intimacy between two lovers.

Pairing: reader x Timothée

Warnings: vanilla sex, cockwarming, not proofread

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You leaned over the railing of the balcony, feet bare, hair released from its tight updo, falling perfectly around your shoulders.

Your eyes were aglow, reflecting the outline of the Tower in the distance, breathing in the delicious scents that carried from somewhere below. Above you, millions of stars peppered the night sky, as if they were gems upon a dark veil that shielded the city. You sighed contently, recalling the events of the day prior; the seemingly endless wandering around the Louvre, the cousine, the walks along the river with gelato dripping down from the cone due to the summers heat, and the breathtaking view upon the tower of lovers. It was beyond anything you had ever imagined.

A cool breeze washed over your figure, easing your hot skin and scattering thin stands of hair across your face.

You heard footsteps behind you, before a pair of arms wound themselves around your waist, pulling you into his body.

You felt your heart rate pick up ever so slightly as he rested his head on your shoulder, eyes level with yours. Timothée's warm breath was palpable against your skin, as was his stare. You turned your head to meet his eyes, placing a gentle kiss to his cheek. Even in the dim lighting of the single outdoor lantern that hung on the wall of the balcony, the blush that made its way to the spot was evident.

"Thank you for this trip Timmy. It meant everything to me"

"I wouldn't have wanted it any other way mon amour" He whispered into your ear, sending unexpected chills across your skin.

"It was nice to have our time with each other, without the constant interference of the photographers and paparazzi." You sighed, a trace of sorrow creeping into your voice.

Timothée knew you well enough to understand how much it bothered you that you private life was out on display for everyone to see. Of course, you were aware of that exposure that Timothée recieved when you first started dating, however, it crushed you not to be able to have these quiet moments to yourselves.

"I know, love, I know."

He brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, before spinning you around so that you faced him. Your face was only inches away from his, foreheads touching, breaths heavy and slowed.

You took a moment to gaze into those eyes, those eyes that expressed every word that didn't need to be spoken. Those eyes that held within them the most beautiful of colours: from a vivid green, to deep hazel.

You reached up a hand, cupping the side of his face, running your thumb over his cheek, down to his jaw and lower lip.You felt the soft skin underneath the pad of your finger.

Your eyes flickered down to his lips, before returning to his eyes.

You couldn't help yourself; slowly, you leaned in, taking his lips in yours, a fire spreading through your entire being. The kiss was tender but passionate, your lips moulding together wonderfully.

His hands left your waist, moving slowly along your body, exploring every inch.

Cautiously, he backed up through the curtains, leading you with him into the dark hotel bedroom.

Your heart raced, his scent enveloping you, and driving into a frenzy of desire.

Your dress soon lay crumpled on the floor, followed by his attire.

Gently, he lowered you onto the bed, moving to hover above you.

Adrenaline pumped through your veins, your breath accelerating at each of his movements.

His lips were on yours in seconds, this time messy and eager.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, wrapping around yours.

His hands roamed free, his fingertips leaving goosebumps along your exposed skin. You shuddered beneath his touch, earning a satisfied smirk from him.

A single touch set tour skin ablaze.

He left a trail of sloppy, intimate kisses down your body; from your collarbone travelling down past your breasts and further down, lingering on your tummy, hands stroking your sides lovingly, caressing your aching muscles.

He worked his way cautiously to the hem of your panties, nervous eyes darting to yours. Your heart melted at his actions, a radiant smile filling your features. With your permission, he gently hooked his fingers over the fabric and pulled them down, sliding them off your legs and discarding them on the floor.

Normally, you'd feel the strong urge to cover up, however, upon seeing the adoring look in his eyes, you felt yourself getting much mote more confident.

He studied your body, tracing every beautiful curve and feature with his eyes before landing back on yours.

"You're so gorgeous, my precious girl. You have no idea how much I love you."

"Oh Timmy, I love you too"

Your hand found his, entertwining your fingers together.

He brought himself back up to you, body pressed flush against yours, his lips landing on the tip of your nose, before dropping to your neck.

Gently, he guided himself inside you, allowing you to adjust to the feeling. It was the most heavenly sensation, as it left you feeling full and complete.

He rocked his hips at a steady pace, reaching places new to you. Your body moved with his, following a silent beat.

Soft moans escaped your mouth, dancing about the room, urging him on.

You were in a trance like state, his name rolling of your tongue with ease, utterly infatuated with him, and the feeling of his body against your own.

Gradually, you felt the knot in your stomach tighten, your muscles tensing as you were caught in a state of complete euphoria.

You muttered his name again and again under your breath, as the wave of bliss washed over you, leaving you to see white.

Timothée, was close to follow, releasing pleasure filled grunts, eventually collapsing on top of you.

Your eratic breathing slowed as you lay there, limbs still entangled in one another's. You had never felt so close to Timothée, this new exposure only strengthening your trust and love for each other.

His head was rested in the crook of your neck once again, curls tickling your skin slightly. You sighed contently, fingers combing through his hair and massaging his scalp.

Feeling safe in Timothée's arms, your eyelids began to droop, sleep finally engulfing you, with him safely tucked inside you, and the moon illuminating your figures.

#timothee #timothee chalamet #timothée #timothée chalamet #timothee imagine #timothee x reader #timothee x y/n #timothee smut #timothee soft smut #timothee fanfic

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ellorypurebloodculture · 2 months

Text

EVIL AUTHOR DAY!

It is, once again, 15 February and that means it's Evil Author Day!

(For those who don't know, this is the day every year that authors share snippets of WIP with no guarantee that they will ever be completed.)

Read at your own risk. DO NOT ask for more.

#1 Untitled Severus Snape/Sirius Black (This isn't set in PC 'verse.)

"I," Sirius gritted out, his gray eyes as hard as diamonds, "am nothing like my family."

Severus sneered, "Keep telling yourself that, Black, and you'll be an even better liar than the Dark Lord."

For the second time, Sirius reeled back and flinched.

"You want a chance to prove me wrong? Fine, Snape," Sirius spat, something thick and haunted in his voice, "why were you studying the Dark Arts, then? What possible reason could you have--?"

"--for learning the counter curses listed in the book, right beneath the curses almost every pureblood in Slytherin grew up learning?" Severus interrupted with a sneer. "I wonder, Black, what possible reason a poor, pathetic half-blood with a Muggle for a father might have to be studying such a book."

Sirius paled whiter than a Malfoy.

"Sod off, Black," Severus spat his name, "back to your little posse of people with perfect little lives and play happy families with them. Some of us don't have that luxury."

#2 Untitled Batman fandom

No matter how Dick Grayson shifts, the Nightwing costume chafes. It's been over 100 degrees all week. Even though it's midnight now, the concrete and steel and glass of Gotham City still radiate the heat absorbed throughout the daylight hours.

He's scrolling on his phone, leaning against a gargoyle in The Bowery. Because, and this is worrying on some level -- someone with power must be planning something huge if the small fries aren't even out and about -- he's bored.

Dick's been on patrol for over two hours now and he hasn't run into a single crime. It's almost ... relaxing.

Which is never how someone should feel while covering Red Hood's patrol route while Jason Todd is injured.

Dick's thumb freezes in his scrolling. He blinks. Blinks again. Lifts the white-outs of his domino mask to be sure. Blinks yet again.

"What the hell?"

His thumb is hovering over an article that's going viral online. The headline is: Police Arrest Superman.

#3 Untitled Batfam

"No comment," Dick replied, not even glancing up from his phone.

Ah, the conversation hadn't gone particularly well, it seemed. Either that, or Jason had asked Dick not to share whatever his response was. It was difficult to keep from pressing, but Bruce managed it. It might have taken years, but he had finally reached a good balance between knowing everything about his children and allowing them privacy at the same time.

"Is it over yet?" Tim asked, staring out the window.

"Not unless you have a time travel device in those trousers, Timmy," Dick teased.

Bruce frowned when Dick and Tim turned to face each other, a mischievous look in their eyes. "No, we're not using a time travel device to skip past the auction," Bruce admonished.

Tim huffed.

"Killjoy," Dick muttered.

#4 Untitled Jason Todd/Tim Drake

That was ... flattering.

Tim had received more than his fair share of odd compliments in his life, usually from business partners wanting a better deal from the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, or from a socialite trying to crawl their way into his bed, and so on. But this one, coming from someone like The Red Hood, had more impact than all the frivolous ones did combined.

"And I think it's admirable you stick to your rules," Tim stated, because it was admirable.

Most vigilantes, crime lords, whatever Hood technically counted as--the answer was both--changed their moods on the flip of a coin, redrew their lines in the sand as easily as breathing. But Tim had never once heard of The Red Hood doing that. His lines were drawn in cement, not sand, and everyone could count on him to abide by them at the end of the day. It was comforting, that steadiness, because there wasn't much in Tim's life that was consistent.

#5 Untitled Bruce Wayne & Jason Todd

It felt like Jason had been punched in the gut by someone wearing brass knuckles. The breath whooshed out of him. He ... he hadn't expected that.

"Why ... why didn't you...?" Jason couldn't even get the words out as he struggled to process what Bruce was saying.

Jason would never get to be a vigilante, never get to be a side kick, never get to be a hero. All the time he had spent thinking of names for his alter ego, all the time he spent surreptitiously designing costumes in a sketch pad with his abysmal art skills were for nothing. Because Bruce never intended to let Jason join him out on patrol.

"It's important that you learn how to protect yourself," B said, squeezing Jason's shoulder comfortingly.

So this ... all this time B was giving him fancy self-defense lessons with no intention of letting Jason fly through the Gotham skyline? It was ... what?

"Then why?" Jason demanded, tears in his eyes. Why did B silently dangle that possibility in front of him all this time if it wasn't even on the table as an option in the first place?

"You're my son, Jason," Bruce said, crouching down to look Jason in the eyes. "And that means you'll be a target for abductors. I want you to be as safe as possible."

#6 Untitled Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter (This is not set in PC 'verse.)

Harry Potter shifted into his Animagus form with a smirk on his face. It became wily and menacing as he sprouted a muzzle with ebony fur and needle-like teeth. With a nudge of his snout against the emerald and platinum collar on the floor, it magically appeared around his neck.

His boyfriend, while a right prat and a total snob, was the best.

Of all the places his friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger in particular, would look for him when he was missing -- was it really too much to ask for a few hours to himself without being interrogated about his whereabouts?! -- they were never going to check to see if he was hanging out with the Slytherins.

To be fair, they didn't have all the information.

He hadn't told them that Sirius had taught him the Animagus Transformation. And, obviously, he hadn't told them he was dating Draco Malfoy either.

It didn't have a single thing to do with him being ashamed of dating a Slytherin. Harry wasn't ashamed. Harry was a Slytherin. He was just hiding out in the lion's tower, like a snake in lion hide.

What he wasn't okay with was the furor that would result if his relationship got out. Harry was sick and tired of being on the cover of every publication in the wizarding world.

Him being in a committed relationship with a pureblood heir, a Malfoy, the son of Voldemort's Right Hand? Yeah, no. He'd pass on that thanks.

Just imagining the headlines made him nauseous.

#evil author day #ellory writes

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fiendishwinx · 2 years

Note

who’s your favorite to least favorite specialist?

(had to contain myself, managed to summarize points to the best of my abilities lol)

It’s: Riven, Brandon, Nabu, Timmy, Sky, Helia. Timmy and Sky trade places a lot.

Most Favorite Specialist: RIVEN

-yes, I sympathize with onion boy

-maybe it's a personal flaw, idk, but "mean yet insecure character terrible at socializing that finds fitting in both hopeless and impossible, lashes out, seeks validation from reaffirming (and kinda love-bomby) sources, retaliates against his cliquey friends in spite, then finds himself betrayed, having served his purpose for the people he genuinely liked/loved/trusted, cast aside, plagued with regret, and now facing the dire consequences of his actions (imprisonment/(the trix were PROBABLY gonna kill him) as he drowns in self-loathing"? I eat that shit UP. EVERY. DAMN. TIME.

-like don’t get me wrong, S1 Riven was insufferable, dude’s just blatantly disrespectful to everyone, but I do feel there’s definitely some pre-show context missing, that explains why the animosity level’s so damn high? like is he naturally an ass to literally everyone he comes across? everyone? girls he’s literally just met (maybe that’s just his mommy issues)? idk, bc if the specs have known each other for at least a semester, I doubt he was this shitty off the bat. they would’ve booted his ass a long time ago. something must’ve happened.

-maybe the inferiority complex made him act out

-AND THEN IN SEASON 2 HE'S ALL LIKE “shit...sorry about that” asjdfslglk, BROODY, AWKWARD AS HELL, LITERALLY LIKE THIS ALL SEASON:

LOOK AT HIM:

DON’T MIND ME, JUST DANGLIN’ MY FOOT OVER THIS BALCONY LIKE 50 FEET UP IN THE AIR.

-”dated a homicidal maniac, don’t hmu”

-then in S3, ignoring the unexplained relationship issues/back-tracking character development that was already beginning to start, he’s just reached peak “chaotic neutral, likeable bastard” quality. I WISH HE’D STAYED THERE.

-he’s cute. lil feral. lil scrunggly.

Least Favorite Specialist: HELIA (???)

-HOLD IT, HOLD YOUR HORSES EVERYONE-

-it’s not even an actual dislike, he’s just the only one I don’t have much of an opinion on. Show Helia & Comic Helia are very different characters, the latter of which I did not know about until later on, after I’d already formed an opinion

-very strange on the show’s part to introduce him as a love interest w a possible character arc, then blatantly leave him out for the better half of S2 and S3, where by S3 ANOTHER love interest (Nabu) is introduced, with a better established character arc, making the audience’s focus turn on him instead.

-he’s NOT forgettable, I clearly remember the episodes he was in, his dialogue, etc. but I DO think the show itself forgot about him, at least during the golden era

-like I still don’t understand: even if he wasn’t on the squad yet, would it have hurt to sprinkle in more helia-centric scenes (s2 had plenty of downtime episodes for that) outside of the romantic subplot, that rounds out his character more???

-writing headcanons for him is kinda hard lol

-idk, I still like him though!! fanfics give him the depth he deserves!

#winx club #winx riven #winx helia #winx specialists #winx headcanons #I spoiled it didn't I #IT'S NOT MEAN I PROMISE

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cut-content-contest · 10 months

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Matchups, Round One!

Botsun | beta Alice Yabusame (Your Turn to Die)

playable Zelda (The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword) | Vah Manta (The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild)

life indicator rune | early concepts (The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild)

Termina Ganondorf (The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask) | Unicorn Fountain (The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time)

cut dungeons (The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker) | The Legend of Zelda: Mystical Seed of Courage

Yosuke Hanamura romance route (Persona 4) | devil Joker boss fight (Persona 2)

Moonjumper | Timmy (A Hat in Time)

Sand n Sails | Vanessa's manor third floor (A Hat in Time)

distilled emotions (Psychonauts 2) | Li-Po document (Psychonauts)

human woman (Star Fox 2) | Dinosaur Planet (Star Fox Adventures)

Michael Tutori (Wii Music) | fish render (Wii Party)

"like, half the game" (combined with cut levels of Monty Gator Golf) (Five Nights at Freddy's: Security Breach) | coconut.vtf (Team Fortress 2)

F-Stop | Cave Johnson cube (Portal 2)

Czar Dragon (Final Fantasy VI) | musketeer class (Final Fantasy XIV)

room_water_prebird (Undertale) | unused art (Undertale console versions)

twisted sword | everybody weapon (Deltarune)

unused Ralsei battle (Deltarune) | final boss battle backgrounds (Mother 3)

wolf howls | beast boy (Minecraft)

Rana | Steve and Black Steve (Minecraft)

beta Arceus | beta Giratina/Kimairan | ???-type Arceus (Pokémon Diamond/Pearl)

Pokémon Z | Paldean sea and skysphere (Pokémon Scarlet/Violet)

cut beta pokémon (combined with unused baby pokémon) (Pokémon Gold/Silver) | Kotora and Raitora (Pokémon Red/Green and Gold/Silver)

unused trade theme | Mew (Pokémon Red/Green)

Honey the Cat (Sonic the Fighters) | Tiara Boobowski (Sonic Xtreme)

good Cortex (split from Good Cortex and Evil Coco) | evil Coco (Crash Twinsanity)

8 beta colossi (combined with Spider colossus) (Shadow of the Colossus) | "Hot Coffee" minigame (NSFW) (Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas)

backdash | ancient_bench (Hollow Knight)

extended Abyss | Pure Vessel dream nail dialogue (Hollow Knight)

the Aviary | Daylight Prairie invisible boat | early Isle of Dawn (split from the entirety of Sky: Light Awaits) (Sky: Children of the Light)

arms on the player characters (Journey) | Omori keyhole cutscene (OMORI)

original rabbit designs (Splatoon) | octoling backup dancers (Splatoon 2)

Singing Mountain (Chrono Trigger) | multiplayer sabre (Halo: Reach)

Selph/Self | robo NiGHTS (NiGHTS into Dreams)

fur (Wobbledogs) | Ancient Castle Spires (Neopets: The Darkest Faerie)

Dude (Hylics) | FN F2000 (Hot Dogs, Horseshoes, and Hand Grenades)

BomBom (Angry Birds) | Snick the Porcupine (Pizza Tower)

Golden Deer!Ashe (Fire Emblem: Three Houses) | Jagen death scene (Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon and the Blade of Light)

Laura Cruz (Tomb Raider) | Kale quest (Eldin Ring)

Dragon King: The Fighting Game (Super Smash Bros.) | Melee selected animations (Super Smash Bros. Melee)

Meteor Slime (Slime Rancher) | SNES CD-ROM (Super Nintendo Entertainment System)

the original story (Bayonetta 3) | Kid Kirby

Bionis Shoulder (Xenoblade Chronicles) | pitcher plants (The Elder Scrolls: Oblivion)

Phoenix Wright heart eyes | early concept art (Ace Attorney)

cut character models | docks mission (Dreamfall Chapters)

Musa boss battle (Skeleton Boomerang) | the plot (Ace Combat 03: Electrosphere)

Starbeans café crossover cameos (Mario and Luigi: Superstar Saga) | Bottles's Revenge (Banjo-Tooie)

Shipwreck Cove (MySims Kingdom) | MySims Agents 2

Shockwave (Genshin Impact) | doki17.mp3 (Doki-Doki Literature Club)

Satsuki Rin (Touhou Project: Embodiment of Scarlet Devil) | anti-piracy measures (Higurashi: When They Cry)

elh (Luigi's Mansion) | Tramplin' Stu (Super Mario Sunshine)

cats (Super Paper Mario Korean version) | dragonhead flower (Super Mario Galaxy)

#cut content contest #contest info

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wack-ashimself · 8 months

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I FUCKING HATE 'JUSTIFIED: CITY PRIMEVAL.'

I tried. I fucking tried. I loved justified, but as soon as this show started, I knew it was bad. SPOILERS.

It had none of the heart, soul, flair, BUT had....rayland givens. No one else. From the get go, it felt like his character was thrown into an entirely different cop drama (his was a western. THIS is a cop drama). And being this was based on a book by the same author, but TOTALLY different story, makes sense. In a crappy way.

There was only ONE good twist. The redhead cop was in on it. Saved you a FUCK load of time.

I tried to write this review 3-4 times now. I caved cuz I didn't even want to talk about it. It's that level of bad that it isn't worth the watch OR talking about. BUT in the last 2 episodes, they made it SO fucking stupid, I had to.

Rayland and the main bad guy get picked up (right as the coolest shootout in the series would've happened!) by a mob boss that the bad guy harmed his nephew. First, he throws the main evidence gun off a bridge. NO REASONING why. He hints cuz that bad guy is dying anyways, but still. It adds nothing besides making sure there isn't a case IF the bad guy gets away. Next, they lock the main bad guy into a panic room to die. WHY NOT KILL HIM!? Why not shoot him in the legs at least? OR EVEN BEAT THE FUCK OUTTA HIM!? I CAN TELL YOU WHY! Because it was ALWAYS planned he would escape. It was first hinted by the evidence destruction. LAZY WRITING. So who let's him out? The now handicapped nephew, in crutches, on his own, in the dark seeking revenge. He gets straight up murdered. WHAT A DUMB ASS! He almost killed you once, when you were healthy, now vs him, in the dark, without working legs? YOU DESERVE DEATH STUPID!

THEN when the main bad guy goes on a killing streak against the mob, they see him on camera beforehand kill a bunch of them, but they don't pull out their guns till he's already there. WTF LAZY GD WRITING! Cuz a shootout would've eaten up too much screen time. Got to save that for rayland's big shootout. Which has been foreshadowed since like the first episode.

The shootout? Rayland finds him at his g/f's house...

THEN he just kills him cuz he was reaching for his demo tape.

I saved you hours; you're welcome.

FUCK THIS SHOW.

They pumped up the bad guy as THE bad guy when every other justified bad guy was significantly more terrorizing.

Justified original: 8.3/10

Justified 2 (more justifcation for shit): 4.3/10. Seriously it is 1/2 as good as the original.

#justified #justified city primeval #spoiler #spoilers

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primofate · 3 years

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Breaking up Part 2 Albedo x gn!reader

Sorry it took so long! Haha. Yeah tumblr effed over for me. But here it is! :D

Scenario: Breaking up and getting back together again

Characters: gn! reader x Albedo

Warnings: angst, break ups, regrets, did I say angst? NOT PROOFREAD

Categories: angst in Part 1, comfort in Part 2 (It was getting too long so split it into two parts)

Read: (Part 1) (Part 3 - Final)

“Sucrose... Do you know where Y/N went?”

5 days 3 hours and 12 minutes. He’d been counting. He’d been counting since you left. It was only today that he had the courage to ask Sucrose about it.

Sucrose jumps at the sudden call of her name.

Albedo had not been the same. The frequent mistakes in the lab proved it. The constant slips of the hand and test tubes shattering on the floor told Sucrose that perhaps that was how his heart looked like too.

“...No, I don’t,” Sucrose simply says, then lets the silence of the lab fill the air. Only the bubbles from their experiments hanging. It was still for a moment, Sucrose going back to her calculations and research. Albedo sat in front of his alchemy set, blankly staring at it.

He doesn’t even understand what being “tired” feels like anymore. He hasn’t had a decent sleep. Every small movement in the house, every whisper of the wind he would bolt up in bed, thinking it was you coming in from the front door. Sometimes he would hear someone shuffling, he would stop and listen for you, but then realizes that the sound was the sound of his legs under the covers, trying to keep warm without you around.

Sucrose glances up at her mentor. He’s buried his face in his hands, his hair in slight disarray. She knew what was going to happen next. He was going to stand up and just walk away from the lab, and Sucrose was not going to see him until tomorrow again.

Tomorrow, the cycle would repeat.

Albedo couldn’t function. It was pathetic. He really thought that he must be such a sight right now, eyes heavy with exhaustion, hair down and clothes a little unruly. He ran away from the lab again. He abandoned his “important” experiment and went back home, retreating in his room, falling on his knees and slumping on the bed in front of him.

He buried his face into his arms and tried to piece his heart back together.

“Albedo, will you ever get tired of me?”

There was a soft hint of a frown on your face. Silly you, Albedo thought. Always worried about being apart from him. He only smiles and cups your chin in his hand, leans in close to press his forehead against yours to whisper, “Never,”

His fists clutch at the bedsheets, the fabric scrunching up under his hands. Every.damn.time. he tried to take a break, he would be reminded of you. Every thing reminded him of you. Breathing reminded him of you. It was as if you were right beside him and yet you weren’t.

It was him. He was supposed to be the one asking “Y/N, will you ever get tired of me?” He was supposed to be the one worried. But he hadn’t been because he had taken you for granted. He thought that you’d always just be there, waiting for him patiently as you always had but now that he was alone, he realized just how lonely this silence could be.

“You must have been lonely...waiting here for me in this silence...”

His voice was muffled by the sheets, and he didn’t know who he was talking to. He did that a lot these days. Saying things that he wished you could still hear.

The next day, just as Sucrose predicted. It was the same. Halfway through his experiment Albedo stopped, and stared at nothing in particular. She wondered if, whenever he did that, he remembered the things he said to you that day.

But, just as Sucrose thinks today would end up the same...

it didn’t.

“Big brother Albedo!” Klee stormed into the lab, the door slamming open really loud. “Oh...I’m sorry, I didn’t check the sign... I...” Klee stepped out to look at the door sign and found “KEEP OUT” still there. “Oh no...! I did a mistake! Sorry big brother,” the little girl fumbled with her fingers and swung from side to side to show her apology.

A hint of a smile appears on Albedo’s face and Sucrose was thunderstruck. There had been no expression on the Kreideprinz’s face for the longest time that the smile had felt so foreign. “It’s alright, Klee. Do you need help with something?” and his voice wasn’t hoarse. If there was anything that could cheer him up, it would be Klee.

He was done prioritizing his research over the people that really mattered.

“Look what I got! I’ve never seen such a pretty flower in Mondstadt before,” Klee showed off the blue flower to Albedo, eyes shining and wide. Albedo touched the petals as Klee held it up for him. “Ah, yes, Glaze Lilies. You can only find them in Liyue, Klee,” Albedo explains. Klee bounces excitedly.

“Ohhhh! That’s amazing! Y/N must have travelled there recently!”

The silence in the lab was deafening. Albedo’s hand drops from the flower as he looks at Klee, confused. Sucrose had stopped what she was doing, wide-eyed, staring at the young bomber. “...What do you mean, Klee?” Albedo whispered out.

Hearing your name said by someone else made it all the more real that you weren’t here with him anymore.

“Oh! See, Klee was in Windrise and... I was looking at the fishes...” Klee gasped a little, “Please don’t tell Master Jean!” she whispered pointedly but continued. “I saw Y/N there, and Y/N gave me a really big hug and gave me this Guh lays Lily,” the young girl got the name wrong, but Albedo hadn’t been listening anymore. He stood up and crouched down to eye level with Klee, hands on her shoulders. “W-When, Klee?” he clears his throat and tries again, “When did this happen?” Sucrose had also been listening and watching in bated breath. Klee gave one of her biggest, most innocent smiles, not knowing how crucial this information had been to Albedo. “Just now! I just came back from Windrise!”

Albedo didn’t feel the slightest sorry that he bolted out of the lab without explaining to Klee. She would understand and Surcrose was there. He sprinted towards the gates of Mondstadt like his life depended on it. In some senses, it really did.

I can make it.

He was panting hard. His footsteps thundering in his ears. His breath coming in quick ins and outs. His heart is about to fly off its cage.

I can make it. It’s just outside of Mondstadt.

Wind rushes past him, the pigeons on the bridge outside of Mondstadt, disturbed, flying away in a frenzy. Timmie shouting after him.

Please be there. Please.

It takes him longer than he wanted. He wanted to be faster, wanted to be there already but he was still running. Still chasing after that hope. The adrenaline he feels pumps in his veins and yet he is so out of breath that he needs to stop. His hands resting on his knees as he closes his eyes and tries to get his breathing even.

I have to keep going.

His legs were killing him. They were strained by the sudden rush of exercise and yet he still drags both towards Windrise. He could see the large tree at the horizon, but he was too far away to see if you were there. He continues to pant, steadying his breath, preparing for another burst of energy to run towards where he so desperately hoped you were. What if you weren’t there anymore?

What if he was too late?

What if he never saw you again?

“What if it doesn’t work...?” Albedo asks, pondering over the research and discussing it with you over dinner. He loved to talk about his experiments with you because you gave valuable insights on it, and really listened to him. You smile and give him the confidence that he needs, “Then you can try again, Bedo. You always find a way!”

He’s still panting by the time he reaches the steps leading up to the large tree. His eyes dart around. He circles around in place, wondering if you were around the area. He continues forward, stepping up to the big roots and yet again looked around, trying to spot your familiar tuft of hair/colour.

At the corner of his eye he spots something, behind the big tree. A Crystalfly. It was flying away and his eyes automatically follow it. There was a hand trying to reach out for it, but it barely grazed the Crystalfly’s wings. You stepped out from behind the tree, a little annoyed that you couldn’t catch the Crystalfly.

Albedo feels like he’s frozen in time. He stands there and watches the wind caress your hair. Watches as you tuck your hair back behind your ear. Watches as you turn around and start walking away. He snaps back to reality and moves forward, roots and sticks cracking under his feet as he struggles through the root laden path just to get near you.

You, hearing the disturbance from behind, turn around and was met face to face with the lover you left a few days ago. Something shatters inside you. You weren’t ready for this. You were far from ready to see him again. Why was he out here in the middle of the day? You stood still just as he did in front of you.

You notice how his hair is sticking to his face with sweat. The fast rise and fall of his chest. The pained look in his eyes. The closed up fists on his side. “Y/N--” his voice cracks and tears start to pool in your eyes.

You aren’t strong enough for this and you start to turn away.

Albedo rushes forward to trap you in a hug. His arms so desperately wrapped around you as his head rests on your shoulder. “Don’t,” he pleads. “Please don’t go. Come back with me, please,” there’s a different type of hopelessness in his voice. A moment later tears are streaming down your face.

“I-I can’t Albedo. I--” can’t put myself through that again. I can’t and don’t want to be alone at home all the time.

His body shakes and you realize it’s a sob that wracks his body. Your shoulder is slightly wet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please.” You’ve never seen him cry. Not like this. Not as he clings to you and admits defeat. “I...I couldn’t take care of you--It’s my fault. I know, but--”

“I like Windrise. It’s very relaxing.” You say as the two of you walk around the tree, collecting materials. “Is it?” Albedo responds, stopping momentarily to look up at the tree. “You don’t think so?” you curiously ask your lover. He ponders for a moment before smiling, “I think coming home to you is a lot more relaxing,” at the early stages of your relationship hearing something like that from him would cause you to blush.

You pry his arms away and look up at him. His head is dipped low and you can’t see his face clearly, concealed by his hair. You brush his hair away and lift his head up, and you see how streaks of tears run down his cheeks. You see the sleepless nights in his eyes. The hurt that creases on his forehead. You see what your absence has done to him, and all in one moment, you think that perhaps you were too harsh on him. That you should’ve talked it out instead of leaving so abruptly but you-- “I was hurt...” your lips tremble as you try to explain.

“I try, really hard, to make things easier for you. To care about you. I have never asked for anything grand.” You’re surprised at how level your voice is, despite feeling like you might break down just as he does.

“I’m aware,” Albedo wipes at his face, frustrated at himself. His tears have stopped. You were talking. That must be a good sign. “I don’t--Don’t deserve you,” but he steels himself and places his hands on your cheeks. God how long had it been since he touched you like this? and wipes away the tears that were silently falling from your eyes. “But I’ll take care of you. I’ll prove your worth. I... won’t make the same mistake again,”

And when Albedo said or promised something he was one of the few people that you believed in the most. He was trustworthy all the way, and was true to most of what he said. “You have my word... and if I do make the same error again then... Then you can leave. But right now I--” he moves to rest his forehead against yours, taking in the warmth and love that he had missed. “I’m asking for another chance,” he gulps. “Please,”

You stay quiet for a moment. Assessing the situation. But your eyes close at the closeness the two of you are in right now. There was no doubt that you still loved him. A few days would not change anything. A few days would not ruin the years that you spent together. But you were scared and guarded. You weren’t sure what would happen and if it was worth it. You were scared of being with him and being lonely. “...We... should talk and think a little bit more about this...” you conclude and give your answer, stepping away from him.

Albedo’s face grimaces in distraught, but turns into confusion when you take his hand and tugs on it slightly. “...At home, we can talk about this at home...Is that okay? Let’s go back first,” you would figure it out with him from there.

His head drops and he tries hard not to let tears escape again. He really didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve this kindness but he sure as hell would take it. He would take it and make it right again. He picks his head up and squeezes your hand, voice slightly soft and trembling, and smiles.

“Thank you. That’s perfect,”

and with his hand tight on yours, because he wasn’t letting you go again, the two of you make your way back.

Should I make a part 3 with fluff and write about the aftermath and how Albedo made it up to you? Let me know :D Message me :D Love me <3

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#albedo x reader #albedo #genshin impact #genshin fics #genshin fanfic #genshin fanfics #genshin fanfiction #genshin angst #albedo angst

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joshuas · 3 years

Text

first place

♫ pairing: Kim Seungmin x Reader

♫ genre: College/university student!au, slice-of-life, fluff, med student!seungmin, rivalry au

♫ word count: 5.7k

♫ warnings: Nil of note!

♫ summary: Just a bunch of shenanigans that take place at a hospital during the holiday period.

♫ a/n: The sixth addition to my seasonal oneshots! This is a continuation from my Hyunjin oneshot. Enjoy!

♫ skz seasonal oneshots: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

“Seungmin and Y/N, you’ll be shadowing these doctors for the next couple of weeks. Please try to get along...” Your professor gave you a pained smile, before handing you over to the two consultants in charge of monitoring your progress at the hospital. “Try to get along? Is there a rivalry that we should be concerned about?” The consultant gestured between you and Seungmin. “Oh, it’s nothing maj—“ You broke off as Seungmin cut in, “Long story short, we’re both the top students in our course, so sometimes our rivalry can get out of hand. But I can assure you, we won’t let anything interfere with the patient’s care.” “Well, I sure hope so. You guys are in the big leagues now— interning at an actual hospital. Any mention of your behaviour becoming the slightest bit unprofessional, and the two of you could fail this component of your course.” The consultant warned before taking you both on a tour of the hospital.

“At the end of the day, I’ll need your progress reports and any paperwork regarding the well-being of your patients. Remember, quality over quantity. Try not to make a competition over the number of patients you see.” The consultant sighed before departing, leaving the two of you in the ER. “We’re going to ignore them, right?” Seungmin raised an eyebrow. You smirked, “You might need to but I don’t. Watch me see lots of patients and deliver them the best possible care.” Seungmin scoffed, before the two of you headed off in opposite directions, tending to as many patients as possible.

“Noooooo I don’t want an injection!!” Timmy, the four-year-old patient you were placed in charge of, got out of his bed, running towards the door. “Please, Timmy, calm down!” You rushed towards him, catching him in your arms before he could run out into the corridor, “Should I sing a nursery rhyme? Twinkle twinkle little... what was it again?” You chased after the four year old, wrestling to place him back on his hospital bed. “Looks like you might need some help,” Seungmin smirked as he sidled up beside you. “He’s not your patient, he’s mine.” You said defensively, turning back to the screaming child, a forced smile etched upon your features. “Hmm... and look at how this is turning out for you? Come on. I bet I can calm him down and give him his injection way faster than you.” He looked at you mischievously. “...you’re on, Kim Seungmin.”

[2 hours later] You slumped against the side of the bed lethargically, placing the fiftieth soft toy you could find on the hospital bed, “Please, Timmy. I’ve gotten all the toys you wanted. All of these soft toys will be there for you while you get your injection and afterwards.” You sighed, exhausted as the kid kept on crying. “What do you want, kid? Money? I’m a medical student, so I don’t have much. Is $20 enough? Thirty is as high as I’ll go.” Seungmin pulled out his wallet. You slapped his hand, “You can’t give money to a four-year-old. First of all, he’s a patient. Second of all, he’s four-years-old!” You looked at him incredulously. “It’s been two hours, Y/N. Where even are his parents? We’ve tried literally everything.” Seungmin sighed exasperatedly. “True...” You sighed, silence filling the room. You pondered for a bit, gasping as an idea struck you. “Well... we haven’t tried everything.” Your lips quirked up mischievously.

“Just put it on so we can calm him down.” You said, tone monotonous. “This is degrading on so many levels,” Seungmin grumbled, placing the puppy ears on his head as you drew on his face. “Best possible care, remember?” You gave him a quick smile before pushing him back into the ward. “Timmy, there’s a very special... puppy here to see you! He’ll be here to comfort you while you get your injection.” You smiled, as Seungmin beamed at Timmy, sitting beside him on the hospital bed. Timmy sniffled, “Does Mr Puppy get scared of injections too?” “Oh, all the time! He’s just like you. But can I tell you a secret? Injections prick a little bit and then your arm feels fine afterwards! It’s just like a small and short amount of pain.” You reassured, preparing your needle as Timmy distracted himself with Seungmin, giving pats to his puppy ears. Seungmin looked at you, slightly uncomfortable. “Okay, Timmy! Are we ready? I’m going to count down okay? 3, 2, 1.” You looked at Seungmin as he distracted Timmy by playing peek-a-boo. He looks low-key adorable... You shook your head, pushing in the needle, “Yay! It’s done! Good job, Timmy!” You beamed at the four-year-old, tucking him back into his bed. “Okay, good night, Timmy! Mr Puppy has to go now! I’ll see you tomorrow.” You waved, Seungmin at your heels. “Bye-bye, Mr Puppy.” He waved sleepily at the two of you as you exited the ward. “I think he exhausted himself from all that crying.” You noted. “He exhausted himself? I’m exhausted. I think I need a lollipop for how much energy I put into calming this one kid.” Seungmin said, slightly incredulous. “I can’t believe you offered him money.” You scoffed. “Says the one who got fifty stuffed toys from different patients and botched up singing nursery rhymes.” Seungmin retorted. “We don’t talk about any of that. Anyway, don’t you have anything better to do? You didn’t have to intervene with my patient.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “I— well... Your patient was screaming so loudly that it was impossible for both my patients and myself to focus.” Seungmin refuted, ears turning pink. “Whatever. I’ll take that as my victory, right? I believe it’s now 24-17? Let’s see, there’s only... an hour till our shift ends... tick-tock.” You smiled patronisingly at Seungmin before walking away.

“Okay, Timmy! Now that you’ve recovered from your surgery, we can take a walk in the hospital gardens for a little bit.” You held out your hand to the little boy as he carefully hopped down from his bed. “Timmy, are you—“ Seungmin entered the room, looking up from his clipboard, as you buttoned up Timmy’s jacket. “What are you doing?” You asked, confused at his presence. “What are you doing?” He retorted, looking at you pointedly. “Taking care of my patient? Why do you keep trying to poach him from me?” You looked at him incredulously, placing Timmy’s hand in yours. Realisation dawned upon Seungmin’s features, “You know... I think the consultants heard about our... difficulties last time with Timmy and probably assigned him to both of us from now on.” “Ugh, it was probably from Dr Yoon — he hates us for some reason. Also, why didn’t you realise this when you found out that Timmy was your patient today?” You raised an eyebrow at Seungmin. “I just thought that they thought you were incompetent, which was why I, the more competent medical student of this cohort, was provided with this opportunity to show that to everyone... no offence,” Seungmin smirked slightly. “Okay, first of all, why are you so cocky? And second of all, adding ‘no offence’ at the end of your sentence doesn’t make your statement any less offensive.” You rolled your eyes. “Confidence is key. And, I wasn’t saying no offence to you, I was saying it to Timmy in case he thinks that he is just a mere opportunity to me— he is, but he’s my patient first.” Seungmin said a matter-of-factly. “Well now he’s our patient, so dial down on the ‘confidence’.” You scoffed, changing your entire demeanour as you turned to Timmy, “Shall we go outside now, Timmy?” You beamed. “Is Mr Puppy joining us too?” Timmy asked as Seungmin smiled at you victoriously. You sighed, exasperated,

“Yes, Mr Puppy will be joining us too...”

You breathed in the cool air, placing your hands in your jacket pocket as you calmly observed Timmy skipping excitedly ahead of the two of you, “Who do you think would win in a fight against Jisung? Me or you?” Seungmin asked randomly. “Why do you ask that? Me, obviously.” You rolled your eyes at him. “You have no reasoning for that. See, I would say me for obvious reasons.” Seungmin said slightly smugly. You stopped, turning to face him, “Oh? And what might those be?” You raised your eyebrows at him. “Well, for one, I’m a lot taller than him, which means I can reach out further and hit him before he hits me. Also, since I’m taller, I don’t have to punch upwards, which means that less force is applied when Jisung punches because he’d have to punch upwards, whereas I’d basically be punching straight, making my punch more powerful...” Seungmin droned on, explaining his argument, leaving no room to rebut. “I guess there was a reason you were on the debate team for all of high school.” You gave him a forced smile. “Actually I started in middle school. Anyway, I guess that means that I win.” He smirked triumphantly. “Um, no, you haven’t heard my side of the argument. Honestly, to think you did debating all this time and you still don’t know the rules.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, exasperated. “Let’s hear it...” “Well, first of all, let me just acknowledge your...”

[45 minutes later] The two of you bickered, hospital staff and patients often stopping to stare at the two of you, as you continued, oblivious to the scene you were creating, “No. You know what— I think we need a mediator. Timmy, who do you think would win in a fight? Me or—“ You broke off, looking around frantically and stressing over the sudden disappearance of your patient. “Did you see where he went?” You asked Seungmin, giving him the side-eye as the two of you ran throughout the gardens calling his name. “Obviously not since I’m running around to find him too.” Seungmin rolled his eyes as he looked through a snow-blanketed bush. “Guess you’re not the “best medical student of our cohort”. You can’t even take care of a child.” You said slightly smug. Seungmin sighed, looking at you,

“Not now, Y/N. He’s our patient, so you’re basically insulting yourself — you can’t even look after a child.” “Are you saying that I’d be a terrible parent?” You gasped, offended. “Are you saying that I’d be a terrible parent? Wait— I never mentioned parenthood.” He retorted, eyebrows raised. “I— oh! Timmy! Why are you hiding behind the park bench? It’s cold outside.” You helped him out onto the path, brushing off any snow from his clothes. “You and Mr Puppy were fighting, so I got scared and ran away.” He said shyly. You shared a look with Seungmin,

“Fighting? Oh no, honey. We were just... talking loudly.” You gave him a reassuring smile, holding out your hand to him. “Please don’t talk loudly anymore.” Timmy sniffled. “We’ll try not to.” Seungmin smiled, taking Timmy’s other hand as you entered the hospital.

“I smell... unprofessionalism.” Your consultant leaned back in their chair, sniffing disgustedly at the air, “I heard about what happened in the gardens today.” Your consultant leaned back in their chair, looking between Seungmin and you. “I promise you, it won’t happen again. And besides, Timmy was fine!” You spoke quickly. “And what if he wasn’t? We’d have a lawsuit on our hands. But above all, he’s your patient. He was placed under both of your care, and he deserves to be taken of to the best of your ability, regardless.” The consultant glared at the two of you pointedly. “We’re sorry.” Seungmin muttered, looking down. “Let me tell you this — this is a hospital. One of the most competitive workplace environments. I understand your competition with each other, but this is the real world, and in the real world there is no room for error. Especially when a patient’s life is at stake. All competition stops when we have to take care of our patients, since they are our top priority. I need you to reflect on whether they are yours?” The consultant raised their eyebrows as the two of you stood in stony silence. “Now, since the two of you can’t go without some sort of punishment, you’re going to have to get the paperwork from the receptionist at the ER and come back here to run through all of it. I want it done before 5pm.” The consultant tapped at their watch. “But the ER is on the other side of the hospital...” Seungmin noted. “So that means we only have... an hour to do all of this, on top of going there and back.” Your eyes widened. “Is that a problem?” Your consultant looked at the two of you pointedly. “No...”

As you exited the consultant office, you looked at Seungmin as he stretched his legs and arms, jogging lightly on the spot, “What are you doing? It’s not like you’re preparing for a marathon.” Your nose crinkled in slight disgust. “You said so yourself that we had one hour to get these files and organise them. Unlike you, I want to show that I am a professional and gets things done on time even before my subordinates.” Seungmin monologued. “I— subordinates? We’re literally in the same year.” You scoffed, tying your shoelaces. “I may view you as lesser than me at times.” Seungmin said quickly before sprinting down the corridor, knocking over everything in his way. “Hey! Kim Seungmin!” You yelled, running after him.

You panted, grabbing at the receptionist desk as you tried to catch your breath, alongside an equally as breathless Seungmin. “C-can I... okay wait a sec... can you please give us with the files the consultant wished for us to go through?” You asked, out of breath. “Actually, they heard of the mess you made when coming here, so that you both have to clean before you go through the files.” The receptionist gave you a forced smile before turning back to their computer. “How?” You looked at Seungmin incredulously. You shared a knowing look, “...Dr Yoon.” The two of you muttered. “Just take these for now.” The receptionist dumped two full cardboard boxes on the desk, paperwork overflowing from both. Seungmin inhaled sharply, “And when will the paperwork need to be done by?” “Well the consultant isn’t too mean, so it’ll need to be done before ten, seeing the amount of... mess the two of you made.” You plastered a fake smile on your face, begrudgingly taking the box, “Thank you, so much.” “It’s no problem, and hey, good luck with the papers.” The receptionist gave you a small smile before shooing the two of you away, boxes in hand. Cleaning with my rival. How fun. I swear the universe hates the two of us. Why are we always together?

“Oh god, we made a huge mess.” You stared widely at the disastrous corridor ahead of you. Random chemicals were spilt on the ground, with IV drips entangled alongside other equipment scattered throughout the hallway. Wordlessly, Seungmin unlocked the supply closet, handing you a broom whilst he got the mop, not before placing the boxes down in the closet. “You should start on the glass so no one injures themselves and decides to sue the hospital for poor workspace conservation.” Seungmin snapped on gloves, mopping up the chemical residue. “Well, we are in a hospital of all places.” You pointed out humorously. Seungmin rolled his eyes, looking pointedly between the floor and your broom. “Fine...”

As you cleaned in silence, you glanced over at a stony-faced Seungmin, What happened to him? Is he really that upset over what the consultant said? I thought he’d take it as feedback and move on. He doesn’t normally give up like this. Or let things like this phase him for that matter. He’s... admirable in that way. You shook your head in disgust, Ew ew ew, Y/N! I can’t believe I called him admirable.. he’s far from admirable. He’s a pain in my— “Y/N, are you done sweeping that one spot? You’ve been at that spot for the last five minutes. I’m pretty sure you’re just sweeping up air now. Can you help me put the cleaning things away?” Seungmin interrupted your thoughts, collecting up the appliances and heading towards the supply closet. “Oh yeah, I forgot that we left the boxes here.” You stepped into the closet, grabbing one box as Seungmin slipped in after you, turning his back away from the door... a clicking noise resounding in the confined space, the light leaving the room as the door locked shut, the rustling of keys heard from outside the door, carefree whistling following suit. Seungmin whipped around, trying to open the door, “The door’s locked!” “Uh, no duh. Someone’s locked us in, obviously... Who do you think it was? My guess is Dr Yoon.” You accused, running through a list of your potential enemies. “Or it’s our consultant wanting us to resolve all our issues before we go back to work.” Seungmin suggested, sighing as he sat against the door. “It’s... a possibility. Regardless, we should figure out how to get out of here. Do you have your keys or your phone?” You asked, mentally crossing your fingers that he did. “No, it’s in my locker. I’m assuming you don’t either since you asked me.” Seungmin sighed. “Ugh, you know, sometimes I wish you were some kind of mysterious bad boy that somehow did everything really well but also broke the rules for once.” You sighed exasperatedly. Seungmin shot you a disgusted look, “Are you saying that you don’t like me for who I am?” You coughed, “I don’t like you, full stop. Why do you think we have this rivalry? Because I’m some immature high school student that has a crush on you and is mean to you to hide my feelings? No.” Mhm, sure, Y/N... “It’s not like I knew we were going to be locked in a storage closet, anyway.” Seungmin said defensively. “We can’t even do paperwork since there’s no light and we have no device with light.” You complained. “Then let’s just sit and wait. I’ll listen by the door if I hear anyone pass by. Please don’t talk to me. I’m not interested in talking to someone who doesn’t like me at all.” Seungmin pressed his ear against the door. “Fine.” You crossed your arms over your chest, sagging back against the wall. This is going to be a long night...

[3 hours later] “God, I can’t take this any longer! Stop sulking and talk to me. I don’t want to think about being trapped in this room with you any longer than I have to.” You exclaimed, Seungmin perked up, relief flickering in his eyes before moving to a more guarded expression. “Okay, well what do you want to talk about?” Seungmin asked drily. “I don’t know... how about we play 21 questions? You can start.” You suggested. “Fine. I will, even though it’s kind of dumb since I already know more about you than I’d like to. Don’t ask me why. What’s your favourite colour?” He asked, slightly bored. “If you’re bored by asking this question, how bored do you think I am by answering it? Your question was dumb. Mine’s [your favourite colour]. And I already know that yours is purple. Don’t ask me why, either.” You sighed. “Wow, okay. I’d like to see you come up with a more interesting question.” Seungmin said defensively. “Oh, watch and learn my... nemesis? Anyways, my question for you is, if you could have any other profession than this one, what would you have chosen?” You raised your eyebrow. “Oh... I’d be a lawyer... in particular, a prosecutor.” Seungmin said sheepishly. ��Why?” You questioned. “The career itself interests me. The criminal justice system is as intricate as some of the cases a doctor would have to cure. The problem solving that goes into trying to figure out what actually happened in a case is the fun part. It’s kind of like solving a puzzle, because all of the pieces eventually will fit together as you piece more and more together from testimonies.” Seungmin explained, eyes lit up in excitement. “You are... really passionate about law. Why didn’t you choose to study that instead of medicine. They’re pretty much are the same in terms of prestige and salary.” You said, confused at his disposition. “I... don’t know.” Seungmin said tentatively, tone slightly confused. “Oh come on, you can tell me. What am I going to do? Use that against you? There’s literally no point of me doing that. Unless you did something really bad and wrong—“ Seungmin cut you off, interrupting you panickedly, “No, Y/N! I actually don’t know.” “You’re telling me that after all this time of having this passion, you haven’t once thought about why you selected a career path completely different to the one you wanted to pursue?” You asked incredulously. “Yes, Y/N. Can you please just not talk? I need to think.” He stood up, pacing the small space, occasionally tripping on things in his way. “Okay, Seungmin, where are you so I can slap some sense into you?” You stood up, holding your hands out tentatively to grab him. “I don’t want you to slap me!” He brushed your hands away, as you grabbed onto one of his. “I meant metaphorically. I’m not going to abuse you.” You rolled your eyes, “Look, I’m not saying this because you leaving would mean that I’m number one in this course. That would obviously be a bonus, but I’m saying this because I’ve known you for a really long time and surprisingly want the best for you. If you’re this passionate about law, you should study it. It’s not as if anyone’s going to complain if you switch, it’s an equally as admirable career option. I think you’ll enjoy it a lot more than medicine by the looks of it. You don’t want to live your life regretting your career options because someone asked you this question in a supply closet and you didn’t act on your uncertainty. You’ll never know unless you try.” A silence filled the room. Not long after the jingling sound returned from outside the door, bright light blinding you as the door opened, a woman screaming as she saw the two of you, Seungmin and you screaming back, confused, “Oh my goodness. There you guys are! You do realise that you have an hour to do the paperwork, right?” The receptionist from earlier gasped, letting you out. Seungmin placed a hand on your shoulder, stopping you, “Thank you, Y/N. You know, sometimes you can be an intellectual.” “You really need to work on your compliments. Anyways, I’ll see you next week.” You smiled, heading towards the lockers.

“Y/N, I just wanted to inform you of Seungmin’s departure from this course. And before you ask, yes that does mean that you are now officially first place. Congratulations!” Your consultant addressed you before shooing you out to do your work. First place, huh? Oh how the turn tables... I guess he really did take my advice. I’m flattered! I mean... why would I be flattered? I don’t care. Whatever. Hopefully he has fun at law school and whatnot, while I enjoy being first place!

“Oh, Dr Yoon. Hello.” You stopped short, bowing your head slightly in acknowledgment. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t The Honourable First Place themselves? So how’d you get rid of him? Talked him to death?” Dr Yoon taunted. You rolled your eyes, sighing, “No offence Dr Yoon, but I don’t see how what Seungmin decides to do with his life is any of your concern.” Dr Yoon scoffed, “Someone’s defending their man.” “He’s not my— oh, you know what? Whatever. Have a good day, Dr Yoon.” You said passive aggressively, stomping out of the break room.

“Nice work, Y/N! I can see why you’re number one.”

“Hey, Y/N. Can you get these x-rays done before eight?” “I heard that Seungmin’s gone. I guess I’m your new rival now.” The day passed by in a flurry, numerous doctors and nurses congratulating you... and delegating more work to you. Particularly, Seungmin’s workload. You weren’t complaining too much about the compliments, those were nice. It’s just that... work wasn’t as fun as it used to be with a certain someone present. The workload seemed to drag on, and on, your motivation lessening as time progressed. I wonder what Seungmin’s doing now. Probably living his best life and learning about lawyer stuff. He’s probably forgotten about me and this rivalry altogether... “Y/N! Are you coming with us for lunch. We wanted to congratulate you on your ranking!” “Coming...”

You put on a smile as you entered Timmy’s room, “Mr Puppy, is that you?” Timmy called out from his bed. “No, sorry Timmy, it’s just me.” You gave him a small smile, checking his vitals. “Where is Mr Puppy?” He asked, wide eyed. “Oh... look, sweetie, Mr Puppy won’t be able to come to the hospital anymore because he’s... run away? Yeah, he’s run away.” You sighed, sitting on the plastic chair next to the bed. “Have you tried looking for him?” He looked to you, hopeful. “He’s just... I don’t think he wants to be found.” You sighed, slightly bitter. A silence filled the room, the two of you lost in your own thoughts. “I miss Mr Puppy.” Timmy said resolutely. “You know what Timmy, I can’t believe I’m saying this... but me too.”

[21 Dec.] (You) I’m assuming you’re on break now? They aren’t giving us any breaks at the hospital because this is the busiest time, apparently - Christmas and New Years, that is >.< How’s your lawyer stuff going? Are you going to be a lawyer forever? [25 Dec.] (You) merry christmas! you’re probably too busy with lawyer stuff since you haven’t replied to any of my texts. That’s chill... you know, Timmy asked me if I could find Mr Puppy for him for Christmas. Not sure if you remember me or any of the things that went down when we were working together because you’re SO busy... just wanted to let you know :/ [26 Dec.] (You) I don’t understand how many people got candy canes stuck up god knows what. My shift on Christmas was probably one of the busiest shifts I’ve had ever!! The consultant says to wait until New Years Eve to make that call... [30 Dec.] (You) you know what? I give up. I’ve tried engaging in conversation but you’re not reciprocating at all. You can’t be THAT busy. I mean, you just started your law degree. Meanwhile, I’m working long hours at the hospital to cover for both of us... I hate this. Looking at your phone for the billionth time, you sighed, placing it back in your locker and throwing on your coat. The hospital was in disarray due to the spike in demand of the services in the last couple of hours. You had the night shift which was the busiest time, especially on New Year’s Eve. Not to mention that you had to do your usual rounds on top of helping out at the ER. You’d think that the hospital would be prepared for this. Weren’t they the ones that told me that New Year’s was busiest? Dumb mistakes, people getting drunk, etc. It’s so— “Y/N! We need you in the ER pronto!” The consultant stuck his head out of the door to the ER, yelling at you to come over, interrupting your internal monologue. What a way to start off the new year...

Sighing, you watched as more patients poured in, many too drunk to remember anything they had done to end up in hospital in the first place, not helping with your diagnosis process at all. You finished up with your current patient, glancing at the crowd in the waiting room, eyes stopping as they drifted past a familiar figure — Kim Seungmin. Your heart leapt at the sight of him, even if he was more or less dragging his friend (?) into a wheelchair in the least graceful way possible. If dragging someone into a wheelchair could ever be considered graceful in the first place. He dropped his friend in the wheelchair, wide-eyed, making their friend wince from the impact, he looked at them pityingly before meeting your eyes. “Y/N! Stop gawking at the patients and actually start helping them! God, we don’t have enough staff for this.” Dr Yoon yelled at you. Not enough staff, you say... You grabbed a spare coat from the receptionist desk, “Hey, Kim Seungmin! I know you’re some fancy law student at the moment, but we need your help! The hospital’s super short staffed right now, so it’s all hands on deck.” You ran towards him, chucking him the spare coat before pointing him towards the mess of an ER. He placed his hand on your arm, ignoring the beat of your heart, you looked up at him, “Hey, for old times sake, how about we have a competition?” He suggested, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Number of patients? You’re on.” You grinned, rushing towards the masses with him, feeling excited towards your job for the first time in a whlile..

“And that was 34-27. I win, yet again. You know, I always wondered why you were first place when I always won against you in these competitions.” You observed, sighing as the two of you walked through the hospital corridor. “This has nothing to do with performance in exams. Besides, you should know this by now, I—“ You halted him, stopping at the children’s ward, “I’m not sure if you got my texts but Timmy’s really missed you. I don’t really understand why, to be honest. You’re not really that missable but—“ He ignored you, entering Timmy’s room. “Mr Puppy!” Timmy exclaimed joyfully as Seungmin beamed at him. “Timmy, you’re still awake? This late in the evening?” You raised an eyebrow expectantly at him, leaning against the door frame. “I wanted to stay up till the fireworks!” He responded honestly. “Didn’t a nurse come in and watch the 9:00 fireworks with you?” You asked. “It’s fine, Y/N. He’s old enough to decide these things on his own.” Seungmin gave you an amused smile as Timmy sat up straight, nodding seriously at Seungmin’s words. “I also wanted to watch them with you and Mr Puppy, but the nurse said that you were too busy.” Timmy pouted, your heart lurching at his words. “Aww, well, Timmy, since we’re here now, we can stay with you, but not to watch the fireworks, because you should sleep. But Mr Puppy and I can read you a bedtime story if you’d like... and I’ll be here when you wake up in the new year. I promise.” You smiled, approaching the hospital bed. “What about Mr Puppy?” He looked expectantly at Seungmin. “Oh no, honey—“ “I’ll be there. I promise.” Seungmin connected his pinky with Timmy’s. You looked at him confusedly as Seungmin pulled out a children’s book and began to read. He looked at you expectantly, gesturing for you to sit next to Timmy. You sat down, thoughts racing, What does he mean by he’ll be there?

“I think he’s asleep now.” Seungmin quietly shut the book, leading the two of you outside into the corridor. “What time is it now?” “Five minutes to midnight.” Seungmin said a matter of factly, checking his watch. “Okay, question. What do you mean you’re going to come back tomorrow?” You crossed your arms over your chest, looking at him expectedly. “I mean, I’m going to come back tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that. Basically permanently because I’m studying medicine again.” He gave you a small smile. “What do you mean you’re studying medicine again? What happened to pursuing your dreams and studying law?” You asked incredulously. “Frankly, I didn’t enjoy it as much as I thought I would. Besides, our professor told me to try it out for a week and then actually consider changing. So I was technically still studying medicine. Also, in that week, I had to help Jisung with a lawsuit, which took up all of my time, hence, why I couldn’t respond to any of your texts because he ended up throwing my phone out... it’s a long story. Anyway, that put me off law altogether.” He explained. “Yeah... I can understand why that put you off.” You nodded. “And... there was one other factor preventing me from pursuing law.” Seungmin said tentatively. “Oh? What’s that?” You asked, heart rate quickening. “You.” He pulled you close, looking at you for permission as you nodded, capturing his lips with yours. As people chorused happy new year throughout the hospital... and being told off by consultants for being too loud, Seungmin pulled back, leaning his forehead against yours. “Y/N, you keep me motivated and the time I spent away from you made me realise how much I need you in my life. Every day I spend with you goes by so quickly because you always keep me on my toes... and you’re the only person that can match me in a battle of the wits.” You smiled at his last sentence, bringing him into a hug, before quickly releasing him. “Well, if it wasn’t clear from the kiss, I like you too. However, that’s the least of my concerns... now that you’re back, what does this mean for my ranking?” You asked, wide eyed. “I think I’d still be in first? Technically I never stopped doing this course.” Seungmin said, confused. “What? No. You can’t be first. I’m first. The consultant congratulated me.” You denied. “I guess you’re just going to have to defeat me again, Supreme Ruler Of Second Place.” He teased, dropping a kiss on your forehead before running to the ER. “Kim Seungmin, God so help me. I will beat you this year!”

➳ part seven? | masterlist!

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kimjoongs · 3 years

Text

ateez playing genshin

hongjoong

mains: albedo and mona

initially wasnt interested in playing but then he heard the soundtrack from another member’s phone and was intrigued

ended up staying up all night just playing the game

chose lumine to be the traveler bc he thought she was cool (sorry aether </3)

gets rlly rlly into the lore and is a sucker for the graphics and music

spends most of his time just talking to npc’s and reading everything they have to say

failed the gliding test many times so he asked yunho to do it for him

“you just follow the rings–”

“i’m TRYING”

gets scared when the music suddenly changes as a crowd of hilichurls comes running towards him

has a personal vendetta against paimon idk why but he does

played co-op once with san and yunho but instantly regretted it bc they kept teleporting and leaving him behind

seonghwa

mains: diona

doesnt rlly know what he’s doing but he thinks the game is very pretty <3

aether is his traveler and seonghwa is v attached to him

knows all of the names of the npc’s in monstadt so whenever he passes by them he greets them out loud “hi flora” “oh hey huffman” “SARAAAAH”

always gasps when he finds a seelie and gets all :D as he follows it

keeps falling off the mountains bc he underestimates how tall they are and loses stamina before he reaches the top

absolutely DETESTS doing quests in dragonspine

“wHY IS THERE NO TORCH HERE”

*comes across a frostarm lawachurl* “haha NO <3″

“oh don’t worry joel i’ll find your dad!” *5 minutes later* “nvm fuck your dad sorry joel”

has so many ingredients in his inventory so he’s always stocked with food

always denies wooyoung’s request to join

yunho

mains: amber, lisa or kaeya

the first person in the group who started playing genshin and downloaded the game just a few days after it came out

HAS SO MANY GOOD FUCKING CHARACTERS but always mains the three mentioned above bc “they’ve been w me since the beginning you don’t understand the bond we have”

he and san have the most experience w the game so they’re always helping out the other members

absolutely LOVES liyue and likes to glide around bc it’s so pretty

when he’s on the ground he likes to hop around instead of sprint bc according to him it’s more fun that way

he thinks the slimes are cute

is supersuper lucky and gets a new character w every pull (he cried when he got zhongli)

he’s super knowledgeable about how the game works and when he’s trying to explain the other members are like ????? but they just smile and nod bc yunho literally lights up talking about it and they would rather punt themselves into the sun than make him upset

spends lots of his mora leveling up his weapons so as a result he’s always low on that “spare mora pls”

yeosang

mains: qiqi

doesnt really know what he’s doing pt 2 but he’s vibing

started panicking when he had to run (glide) from the knights of favonius and COULD NOT find diluc’s tavern for the longest time

“aww look at the cute animals” he says as he aims his arrow at it

teleports to a statue of the seven in the middle of a boss fight bc all of his characters are dead and he has no food left

wants to throttle tf out of paimon

collects potatoes and radish in the middle of a fight

he’ll put off doing quests but ends up gaining more quests to do so he ends up having like 238743875 different quests

purposefully bumps into the npc’s bc he thinks it’s funny

he, wooyoung, and san all played co-op tgt but ended up just playing hide n seek in liyue

forgot that wangshu inn had an elevator so he’s been taking the stairs the whole time

san

mains: tartaglia/childe

has a personal vendetta against reckless pallad and refuses to save him

the geo hypostasis is the bane of his very existence and he almost cursed it out on more than one occasion

spent 10 minutes trying to climb qingyun peak only to fall off once he reached the top </3

complained a lot during his quest w albedo

“why are we doing all these experiments”

“i am NOT drinking that potion—fuck okay i’m drinking the potion”

“why are you giving me a sword did you steal the sword albedo what the hell”

has the BIGGEST soft spot for razor and he most likely cried a little a lot when he met him for the first time

he rarely ever uses the free characters that the game gives him in the beginning

likes to climb the anemo archon statue in monstadt and sit in its hands

mingi

mains: closes his eyes and whoever he lands on is his main (it’s sucrose)

saw a ruin guard just chilling and immediately turned right back around

has the fattest crush on diluc but dont we all

“...do i have enough stamina to swim across that? i think i do” *ends up drowning not even halfway*

gets super excited whenever he finds a chest but doesnt like having to fight enemies to unlock it

“ooh i see a chest—” *slimes pop up from who knows where* “nevermind”

he gets really into the cut scenes and watches them so intently it’s cute

takes a long time to get his ar up bc he mostly enjoys running around and playing casually

he HATES timed fights bc it stresses him out

racks up a lot of primogems but never really uses them for some reason

feels bad whenever he has to switch a character in his party bc he needs a character with a diff element

“icb the game lets us use good characters during certain quests but then rips them away from us as soon as the quest is over i call scam—”

wooyoung

mains: ningguang or fischl

he was in the middle of a quest but completely forgot about it bc he saw an anemoculus and spent forever trying to get it

likes to bully timmie on a daily basis

“sorry timmie i need fowl” *does an elemental burst on the birds*

he knew how much seonghwa wanted to get diluc so when wooyoung pulled him he rubbed it in seonghwa’s face for 2 whole weeks

during the quests where he has to be sneaky, he always got caught and almost threw his phone after having to restart for the 10th time

when he plays co-op with any of the other members, wooyoung just starts attacking them w his weapons

“fuck the fatui everyone hates the fatui....except tartaglia i like him”

gets annoyed when he sees hilichurls running after him

“i’m just trying to deliver food LEAVE ME ALONE”

will be in the middle of doing a quest when he sees a dog and spends 5 minutes just standing next to it

jongho

mains: diluc

he’s more of a silent player, meaning that he plays the game a LOT but isn’t as vocal about it

“hey jongho what ar are you?” “30″ “...didnt you just start playing three days ago?

*shrugs* “yeah”

the members who have a lower world level than him ask him if he can do co-op and help them defeat some enemies that they’re having trouble w but jongho’s like nah do it yourself

finishes all of his commissions in like 2 minutes

he agrees w diluc and also has a thing against the knights of favonius

“who was the one who defeated stormterror? yeah that’s right ME”

“i snuck in to steal the holy lyre and none of them noticed pssh amateurs”

the only person he’ll play co-op with is yunho and the two of them just wreak havoc all over liyue and monstadt

had to fight 3 ruin guards at the same and hated every second of it

instead of sprinting on the ground he just hops/glides from roof to roof

#thanks to my fellow grills caly and vivi for helping me decide the mains <3 #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho

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skiller0dani · 4 years

Text

The Tavern Lady | King Henry V

M A S T E R L I S T

angsty smut requests info wanna be on my Timmy taglist? click here

The Boar’s Head Inn was bustling with noisy patrons, and the gleeful bellows of drunk men with their tankards in hand. Hooper was standing near the wooden bar, a sullen and sour expression crossing her face when Falstaff enters the bar. You say nothing as you continue to wipe down tables and ignore less than gentlemanly comments from the drunk men with red faces. Falstaff approaches you keeping his eyes away from Hooper, “you haven’t seen the young Prince this evening have you?” He asks and you think back to the last time you saw Prince Henry of Wales. “No m’lord. Saw him last 2 evenings ago with Arianna.” You tell him, continuing with your work. Hooper places her hands her hips as she eyes Falstaff, who releases a breath and a polite smile. He exits the Tavern as quickly as he entered it, the atmosphere not having been affected by his presence.

“Never pays me what’s due. Lost the wayward Prince again has he?” Hooper asks as she approaches from behind you, a hint of agitation in her tone.

“It would seem so, must be a difficult task that. Our wayward Prince is not that of a princely fellow.” You comment with a smile and Hooper grins with a snort of laughter before returning to the bar.

The remainder of the evening is uneventful, save for the few men who paid you a hefty sum to fulfill your role as the ‘Tavern Lady’. Really it’s a more commonly polite term for a prostitute, you do what you need to for money. Once the last large man throws down a handful of golden coins on the table you straighten the bed sheets before returning downstairs. “Last man gone yet?” Hooper asks as she wipes out the tankards.

“Left but a few minutes prior.” You inform her, helping gather dirty tankards scattered around the Tavern. Hearing a thump coming from the second floor of the Tavern you excuse yourself to shoo the last man from the bedrooms. If he need stay here, he must pay the same dues everyone else must. Turning the corner to a closed door you rap your fist against the wood. “Need a room, speak to Hooper! If you haven’t the money, then sleep with the pigs!” You shout angrily, this isn’t uncommon knowledge. You can’t just sleep in places for free, everywhere would be bankrupt of money if nothing was offered for money. When the door opens, your eyes widen in embarrassment and fear at the sight of Prince Henry. You immediately curtsy, keeping your eyes focused on the wooden floor boards in front of you.

“Sincerest apologies my liege. I knew not who laid in these bed chambers.” You apologize with a stutter, as your legs begin to tremble underneath you. Prince Henry was a good looking man, long dark curls framing the sides of his face and the speckles of green, and hazel in his eyes. “Stop,” he breathes, rubbing a hand over his face as he wobbles from foot to foot. He’s drunk.

You immediately rise and take a step away from him, clasping your hands in front of your body. “We are in a Tavern, and not the palace yes? Why do you stand so idly by as one of the maids would?” Henry asks, his shoulder hitting the frame of the door. Your throat feels dry at the question and for a moment you know not how to answer. “You are of noble blood my liege, I am but a lowly Tavern Lady.” You answer, a shameful blush searing across your face at the admission of your line of work to the Prince.

“My blood was bred from that of a lion.” Henry says sharply, clearly his relationship is estranged from his Father, King Henry IV. Henry takes you in again, a blank nearly emotionless expression resting upon his features. “My liege, Sir Falstaff was asking after you hours ago.” You inform him quickly, and you see no look of surprise or urgency cross his face. “Walk with me.” He says suddenly, heading to the stairs without waiting for you to agree or disagree.

Hooper opens her mouth to speak when she sees you heading for the doors of the Tavern, but her mouth snaps shut upon seeing whom you follow out. The roads are all but empty, illuminated only by the soft glow from candles inside homes. “What is your name?” Henry asks, his hollow expression accentuated by the light. You walk along beside him, not caring that your tight and rugged Tavern dress is being mucked with mud. Henry’s pale skin nearly gives him a sickly appearance, but rather to you he looks beautiful in a way.

“Y/N your highness.” You say quietly, bowing your head to him as a politeness. Henry nods in thought as his hands clasp behind his back. His eyes travel back to the Tavern being left in the distance. “Never have I seen you step foot out of that Tavern into the night long after closing. Is that where you live?” He asks out of mere curiosity. In truth, your Mother died of illness many years prior and your Father you know nothing of. Once your Mother passed, you lost any property to your name and would have died of starvation if Hooper had not taken you in so graciously.

“Yes my liege, neither of my parents live.” You inform him and his expression pinches slightly as his walking pace slows to a stop. Henry turns to you, an expression you cannot place on his face. “How is it you manage to earn your keep Y/N?” Henry asks, but surely he must know. You’ve already informed him of your status as a Tavern lady, so why then would he ask this? “A-As a Tavern Lady, as I’ve said before my liege. Men pay me handsomely.” You inform him again with a smile and he recoils slightly. His hand reaches up suddenly to slowly brush against your cheek. “Your beauty deserves to be honored in a castle dear Y/N. Not in some muddy Tavern filled with less than desirable men.” Henry says with a scowl upon his face and you blush under the praise from the Prince.

“It bothers me not my liege. I do not deserve such high words of praise.” You say quickly, bowing your head again to hide the wide smile on your face from Prince Henry. “It would displease me deeply to see you remain in that Tavern this evening, join me.” Henry says, his eyes boring into yours and you see nothing but seriousness in his gaze. You nod with a smile, “I’d be honored my liege.” He hums in approval and continues walking along the muddy cobblestone streets. Something about you has stricken him so, and he knows not the reason for the deeply unpleasant sensation building in his abdomen at the thought of you pleasing other men. “My liege, will you not meet with Sir Falstaff? He seemed urgent to find you.” You ask boldly as you follow Henry around a corner. Henry hums for a moment, not looking disturbed by your question in the slightest.

“I don’t think I will. He merely wishes to halt my revelry and drinking.” Henry says and you know better than you question him as you nod with a smile. “Y/N/N!” A booming voice bellows from behind the both of you. When you turn you see a regular of yours stumbling drunkenly, with a bloodied lip. “Good evening Aldwin,” You smile politely and the man stops in front of you. He reaches down to grasp your dress and pull your body close to his as he’s done before. Just as his bloodied and muddy fingers curl around the fabric of your dress a hand is reaching for your arm. “I might ask you to remove your hand from her skirt at once.” Henry demands and Aldwin pales as he quickly releases you and stumbles back at the sight of the Prince. “My Prince! My most sincerest apologies, I merely wished to-” But Henry cut him off before he could finish.

“Scurry off quickly and hope that next time you might catch me just as forgiving a mood.” Prince Henry snaps and Aldwin is stumbling away quickly, without sparing a second glance at you. Once Aldwin is out of sight, Henry regards you with concern in his emerald irises. “Has he hurt you in any way Y/N?” He asks, his hands coming up to grasp at your arms. Henry’s eyes look you over, “I am unharmed my liege. Aldwin is harmless, I assure you.” You inform him with a smile, but his expression has not yet relaxed. Henry’s eyes fix on a tear in your skirts where Aldwin grasped your dress. “What if I had not been at your side? What might have transpired then?” Henry said sharply, concern pooling deeply in his eyes. You gaze at him with surprise in your eyes, “I do not wander the streets of London in the evenings my liege.” You reassure him, but his eyes now scan the faces of passerby's, regarding them as threats to your safety.

“Nor will you again.” Henry confirms as he keeps his hand on your lower back when he continues to lead you down the street. “Your highness, I am not injured I assure you...” You trail off but Henry merely shakes his head as you stop in front of a building. Pushing through the doors you follow him through the halls and up the stairs to a bedroom. “You may have been were I not there to put a stop to his advancements.” Henry hisses, a clear distress in his voice as he closes the door behind you. He turns to regard you again, “have you the strength to stop him? If you wished not to be touched would have he obeyed your commands?” He asks, crossing his arms and you fall silent. While Aldwin may have never laid a hand on you, that does not mean he would not continue with his advancements regardless if you wanted him to or not.

“From this evening and onward, you shall accompany me here. That Tavern is not a fitting place for a lady such as you.” Henry says at last, his mind having been made up. Your cheeks redden in blush for what seems to be the hundredth time this pale evening. “Of course my liege.” You agree in an instant, your heart fluttering at the level of his concern for your well-being. “I will not, of course, bring you here against your wishes. You may accompany me if that’s what you desire to do.” Henry said after a moment, his eyes momentarily meeting yours. You smile as you admire the side of his face, the delicate bone structure making him appear younger in years than he is truly. “I desire to join you here my liege.” You inform him softly and are pleased upon the small smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

Henry sits on the bed sitting in the center of the room, a sigh pulling from his lips. You move to stand in front of him, “why my liege, have you asked me here?” You ask him, your eyes darkening as you gaze down at him. A smile plays at his lips and his hands run down your sides. “I find myself interested in your work as a Tavern Lady. Perhaps I wish you only to be a lady of that sort for myself only.” He says with a cocked eyebrow and a deep feeling of joy jolts through you at his words. “I would be happy to oblige my liege, and you need not pay me a single coin.” You whisper, your voice growing quieter as he leans up into you. Henry’s eyes spark in interest as he gazes up at you, his expression resembling that of a lion stalking it’s prey. “I must repay you in some manner.” Henry whispers huskily as you pull your dress up to straddle his waist. Your hands grasp his shoulders as you gaze into his eyes, “you need not my liege.” You say softly again, and it’s this time that Henry presses forward. His lips meet yours in fervent need and his hands hold you steady at your back.

Henry lifts you and gently places you on the bed underneath him, “oh I think I do.” He argues, his lips licking and biting at the skin of your collarbones. You wind your hands through his curls as one of Henry’s hands reaches for the dagger secured in his belt. “Perhaps this evening is payment enough your highness.” You breathe, your mind becoming thoroughly fogged by pleasure as his tongue rubs over the deep purple marks littering your neck already. “I think it will take this evening, and many evenings more before you are properly repaid.” Henry whispers against your skin, his words feeling like an unspoken promise. Brandishing his dagger, Henry slices through the front of your dress being careful not to slip and injure you instead. Such a mistake would surely drown him in guilt. “Am I to assume you will replace my dress my liege?” You tease as you look up at him once he tosses his dagger to the side. Henry presses a long kiss to your clavicle, “I shall. With the most beautiful embroidered silks, dresses made only of the finest material.” Henry whispers against the skin of your stomach.

You sit up momentarily to pull your arms from the sleeves and kick the dress off of at your feet. Henry’s eyes glaze in wanton lust at the sight of your bare skin, “Y/N you truly are a vision.” He compliments, seemingly lost in your naked body as he kneels above you. You have never felt more empowered by your naked body than you do with Henry. “You treat me with the same regard only a princess deserves your highness.” You smile up at him. Henry leans down, both of his hands coming to plant on either side of your head. He gazes down at you, his eyes mapping out every inch of your skin as though he’s never going to see you again. The both of you know, however, that you will be seeing much of each other. “That is but a mere title dear Y/N, it’s what lies in the soul that matters most.” Henry whispers, running his fingertips down below your naval. Goosebumps rise in the wake his fingers take, “so bare your soul to me.” He says as he presses his lips against yours once more.

Your mouth latches hungrily to his as Henry’s fingers lightly dance along your sides. You reach for the strings securing his trousers around his waist and pull impatiently. Henry swiftly reaches down and undoes the knot, letting the useless fabric of his trousers fall down his waist. He kicks them off the edge of the bed and you immediately reach down to deftly stroke at his hardened cock. Henry presses his forehead against yours as his hands find the sensitive spot between your thighs. He delves his fingers into you, much enjoying the whine that escapes your parted lips. “Never have I felt such a burning desire for anothers skin against mine,” Henry breathes nearly in disbelief at the strong hold you already have over his mind and heart. You run your hands along his back, longing to feel his bare skin. You pull at his shirt and in one swift movement, Henry is tugging it up and over his head. “Nor are you like any other man I’ve had warm my bed my liege.” You moan into his neck as his hand slides over your core.

“I can assure you, I will be the last man to warm your bed. You will not have another in my stead.” Henry hisses, a certain amount of possessiveness seeping into his tone as he bites at the skin of your bottom lip. “It is only you I desire to warm my bed,” You hum in agreement as you feel him impatiently grasp at his cock. He presses the head into you and smoothly pushes the rest of himself deep inside you. Your arms hold Henry tightly as he rocks into you, groaning softly against your neck. “And what of you my liege? Will you sheathe yourself in another woman in my stead?” You ask breathless as Henry pushes into you faster. His hands grab at your wrists as he presses his forehead against yours once more, a grimace of pleasure strewn on his face. “Would it displease you if I did?” Henry asks, finding it difficult to catch his breath as the coil of pleasure burns hot inside him. You think of it for a moment, the image of him moaning and writhing with another woman in these very sheets. The thought makes you physically nauseous. “Greatly, my liege.” You admit with a grunt as you feel your own warmth seeping through your entire body making you feel alight.

“Then I shall sheathe myself only in you, you have my word.” Henry promises with a hot kiss to your lips. Your nails bite into his skin, possibly drawing blood but Henry couldn’t be bothered by that now or later. When your back arches, pressing your breasts up into his back Henry watches with lustful eyes as you come underneath him. Feeling himself about to burst he pulls of your inviting warmth and comes in hot spurts on your stomach. Henry does not desire a bastard child, it would only legitimate the claims of him being the ‘wayward Prince’. Your chest heaves as you attempt to calm your heavily beating heart as Henry grasps a cloth and wipes any mess on your stomach. You sit up, reaching for your torn dress to hide some of your bare skin on the journey back to the Tavern.

“Where, pray tell, are you off to?” Henry asks, an expression of confusion and pain written plainly on his face. You pause, your eyes widening and cheeks darkening in shame. “I only assumed you’d expect me to return to the Tavern my liege.” You say softly, sitting on the plush mattress and wanting more and more to lay down and slumber upon it. Henry’s expression softens as he sits next to you, brushing hair off your forehead. “I greatly desire for you to stay, only if that’s what you wish to do.” He says, apprehension in his tone as he looks into your eyes. You smile as you reach down to take his hand in yours, not a proper action between a royal and a commoner but something tells you he doesn’t mind much for what’s proper. “I do wish to stay with you my liege.” You tell him softly and he smiles then.

After having blown out all candles in the room he slides into the bed next to you, pulling you to rest on his bare chest. His eyes gaze up into the black oblivion of stars shining above the rooftops. “If the stars could speak of the secrets they’ve seen,” Henry whispers, the words tumble from his lips before he can stop them. You hum in delight, the beauty of the words resonating with you. “From which poem was that written my liege?” You whisper through the darkness. Henry wraps an arm around your shoulders and holds you tighter against him. “None, they are my words.” He says quietly and you press your nose into his chest, bathing in the warmth of his skin.

The weeks pass by in a blur of passion writhing raw in the sheets with the young Prince Henry. It’s a life you never knew you wanted to lead. Henry kept his word and you kept yours. He gave himself to none but you, and in return you did the same. In your heart, you knew deeper more powerful emotions were growing for the lonely Prince. Such thoughts and feelings could not be indulged, for imagining a future with the Prince is a fantasy. You are but a lowly Tavern Lady, and he is the Prince of Wales. Son to the Kind of England. The union between the two of you would cause a spark of unrest in the kingdom, and possible uprisings. For now you enjoyed the secret rendezvous you shared with him in the evenings, the secret affair of lips and skin that was your secret and yours alone. Then came the day where the King Henry IV passed, as had the young Prince set to inherit the throne. Leaving none to ascend to King but the wayward Prince of Wales himself. A secret affair with a wayward Prince affects none but the Prince himself, but a secret affair with the King of England? Eventually Henry would have to marry, to produce an heir. There would be no place for you in his life, such a thought of leaving then breaks you.

Which leads you to where you are now. It’s hours before the Prince’s coronation and after he will return to gather his belongings and set off to the palace. Surely he expects you to be here waiting to join him, but you can’t. Not this time, for you have no place in a palace with a King. Reaching for your canvas pack you hear the door creak open. “Going somewhere Lady Y/N?” Henry asks, confusion written on his features. You admire the face of the young Prince before it becomes the face of a young King. His beautiful curls will be cut, so you run your fingers through them one last time. “Henry we knew the day would come where our rendezvous would come to an end.” You told him with tears brimming behind your eyes. His eyebrows pinched together as he watched you flutter about the room, gathering any belongings you may need. “Come to the palace with me, as a maid or a cook. We can continue as we were Y/N.” Henry says softly, his voice in a pleading tone.

You avoid his eyes as tears begin to fall freely down your porcelain cheeks. “You will be a King Henry, and I am nothing but a Tavern Lady. Surely you knew this day would come. Sooner yet the day will come where you will need to marry, to produce a legitimate heir to the throne.” You exclaim, voice wrought with tears as you search for your shoes. Tears now wet his own eyes as he watches you prepare to walk out of the door and with that, out of his life as well. Deeper more passionate emotions stir in his stomach when he thinks of you, surely he cannot become King without you by his side. “I fear I cannot do this without you.” Henry pleads, catching your wrist as you briskly walk past him. Your face mirrors the current state of your heart, ragged and broken. “You must find a way, my love.” You whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before hurrying out the door. Henry stands numbly in the wake of your departure, blinking tears from his eyes as he watches you go.

You hear nothing from Henry in the weeks that follow. Hooper ever-so-graciously allowed you to resume a position at the Tavern. You could not however bring yourself to resume your role as a Tavern Lady- you did make a promise after all. The city of London bustled with excitement in the days that followed Henry’s coronation. You missed him with every beat of your heart, but a lowly commoner like you had no place in the castle among nobles. Not only residing in the castle but bedding the King, Henry was now your King. You must treat him as such no matter how that may break your heart so. You tried to stay focused on the work that needed to be done at the Tavern but every patron to enter spoke of the new King. You could not escape him, nor could you escape the breaking of your heart. You wished you’d been born a woman he could rightfully marry, but you weren’t and you’re not. There’s nothing that can be done to change that, no point on dwelling on the lost possibility. He would soon belong to another, a Princess who will be Queen. She should feel honored to have him.

The sun had set far below the horizon when you took to the streets of London for a late night walk. You remembered Henry’s promise to never let you walk the streets alone again and yet here you are. His promises were folly, but did not lack the sincerity he meant behind them. Not a man had pursued you as a Tavern Lady, for everyone on Eastcheap knew of your frolicking with the King. That did not seem to halt Aldwin in his course as he continually pursued you, and you continually turned him down. Nor did it give him reason to pause as he approached you on those cobblestone streets as you walked. “A fair evening for a fair lady.” He compliments, the wrinkles by his eyes pinching together as he smiles. You smile politely at him, you’re far too kind to tell him you wished to be left to your thoughts. You doubt, however, that he’d leave you even if you’d asked him too. Perhaps Henry was right to worry about him.

“Good Evening Aldwin.” You keep your eyes to your feet as you stroll past the house you used to meet Henry for the 10th time this same evening. “You long for him again, the King?” Aldwin asks and you snap your gaze towards him, your cheeks flaming a deep crimson. “Such an impolite and forward question to ask a lady Aldwin.” You snap, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. Aldwin simply bellows out a laugh in response to your heated words. “Wouldn’t ruffle your feathers so if the words didn’t ring true.” He comments and you halt where your feet are, coming to a sudden stop.

“Who I do and do not long for is no concern of yours Aldwin. I shall, however, indulge you in the knowledge of knowing I have never longed for you.” You spat at him, turning on your heel to march back to the Tavern. You feel a tight grasp on your upper arm as you’re pulled against the brick wall of an abandoned home. “Where’s your wayward Prince now Y/N? Don’t think he’ll be coming to your aid this evening or the next fortnight.” Aldwin smiles, his dirty hands reaching for any inch of bare skin he can find. Tears push hastily at the backs of your eyes and you squeeze them shut coming to the conclusion that Henry was indeed right to worry about Aldwin.

After the evening in London, you took no more walks in the starlight. You remained in the Tavern, residing up to your room once most of the patrons had cleared out. Bruises flowered along your hips and neck from where Aldwin held you against the wall as he forcefully pushed into you over and over. You release a pained breath as you lay back against the bed, your thoughts once again drifting to the King. You missed the warmth of his skin, his honeyed words, the way his lips felt against yours. Reaching to blow out a candle you hear a soft knocking upon the wood of your door. Drawing yourself out of bed and towards the entrance to your bed chambers you open the door to see a royal guard. Your eyebrows raise in surprise, “Lady Y/N? The King is here to see you.” He informs you with a nod of his head. He steps to the side revealing Henry, his eyes gleaming as they lay upon you.

You open your door to allow him into your room, and gently swing the door shut after him. Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as he stands before you, a hooded cloak concealing his face. He lowers his hood and smiles fondly down at you before taking you into his arms then. “M-My King,” You stammer, struggling to fight the onslaught of tears threatening to cascade down your cheeks. “W-Why have you come to see me my King?” You ask him, fighting back the immense joy you feel in your heart upon seeing him stand before you again. “I have come to plead you once more to join me in the castle.” Henry pleads, taking your hands and your eyes flutter as tears blink out of them. You attempt to pull your hands free from his but he holds them tighter. “My dear Y/N, I am to set off to war in less than a month. Let me spend these next few weeks with you.” Henry pleads, his eyes begging as they look into yours.

War? The word brings unspeakable pain to your heart, the thought of Henry going to war sends you spiraling into a deep embedded panic. “They could be my last, my love.” Henry says finally and the tidal wave of emotion pours over you as you throw yourself into his arms. Henry hold you tightly to him, as he whispers reassuring words into your hair, words promising he’ll do everything he can to return home to you. Brushing his hands through your hair to soothe you, the marks he sees laid upon your neck are enough to push you back from him. “On your neck, you’ve bedded another!” Henry exclaims, the betrayal and pain written clearly on his face. Your hand flies up to the marks Aldwin left on you as you reach out for him, “Aldwin offered no choice as you said he would. He took from me what he desired in the streets of London. My protests fell on deft ears.” You explained with tears pooling in your eyes. A new rage embeds in Henry’s chest as he takes you back into his arms then.

Ushering you out of the Tavern, Henry keeps you by his side as he pulls his hood to cover his face again. You figure the hood is in vain, as Henry is surrounded by palace guards which in a way give away his position. But to an uneducated commoner Henry could be mistaken as a mere noble, and not taken for the King.

“Bring me Aldwin the Shopkeeper.” Henry snapped once you’d arrived safely within the walls of the palace. He did not pause for an introduction as to who you were as he lead you through the halls and to his bed chambers. Henry pushes the door closed, anger evident on his features. “You never should have remained on Eastcheap, if I had insisted you accompany me to the palace Aldwin would never have laid unwanted hands on you.” Henry seethed more to himself than to you. He turned to you hastily then, “undress. Let me see what other devilish marks he marred upon your skin.” He snapped and you knew protesting would only anger him further.

Once your dress had fallen to the floor, Henry’s eyes winced upon seeing the bruises covering your body. The worst of the bruises were along your upper thighs and hips. Henry dropped to his knees in front of you, grasping your hips in his hands as his eyes observed the bruises covering your skin with tears in his eyes. Henry pressed a soft kiss to each purple bruise, before resting his head against the soft skin below your naval. You brushed your fingers through his shorter unruly hair, that still somehow managed to suit him as well as the long untamed curls did. “They hurt not this evening, they heal with each passing day Henry.” You whisper to reassure him. Your words do little to soothe the boiling rage building inside him.

A knocking at the door drew Henry to his feet. “Your Highness we have brought Aldwin as requested.” The guard says from outside the door and Henry helps you back into your dress before opening the door. Henry turns to you, “stay here. I shall return shortly.” He instructs and you nod watching as the door closes behind him. Henry turns to the guard, “put him in chains at once.” He snaps and the guard nods before hurrying off ahead of Henry.

“What crime did he commit my liege?” A guard asks boldly, earning a sharp glare from Henry. He dares not speak again. When Henry enters the throne room he’s pleased to see Aldwin in chains and on his knees before the throne. Henry sits upon the throne and waves his hands, “leave us.” He snaps and in an instant all but the two guards standing either side Aldwin exit the throne room. Aldwin’s eyes are wide in fear as he keeps his gaze firmly on the stone floors of the palace. “Aldwin you are being charged with sexual violence, and sentenced to death.” Henry says calmly, but the boiling rage is evident in his eyes. Aldwin gasps in shock as the guards lift him from his knees and drag him out of the room screaming.

When Henry returns to his bed chambers, you are waiting on his bed. He kneels in front of you, and takes your hands in his. “Aldwin will be an issue no longer my love.” He reassures you with a kiss to your forehead. Tears are in your eyes as you gaze into his own emerald eyes, and concern wears itself plain on his features. “I assure you he will be an issue no longer.” Henry says again but you shake your head as your hands grasp at his shoulders. “War, Henry. You go to lands you know not to fight men who could grasp the sword that pierces your heart.” You whisper, the fear overtaking every one of your thoughts. Henry takes your hands and gently lays you back on the bed, his body hovering above yours. “It is my duty as King to face such blatant disrespect as a regard to War. I must face the French and prove to them the strength of England.” Henry whispers, lovingly brushing hair from your eyes.

“I do not question the reasoning, I merely question whether your promise to return to me will be honored. I fear for you,” You gasp, beginning to feel the emotion overwhelm you again. Henry presses a gentle kiss to your lips as his hand finds and cradles the side of your face. “I will not make false promises to you, I know not if I will return. I only can hope those battlefields will not be my resting place. Let us be in each others arms these coming weeks, let me feel the strength of your love before I am to leave.” Henry says in a soothing voice and you nod immediately, bringing his lips down to yours then. Henry hovers above you once more, watching with eyes alight as you slide out of your dress again. Unlike your secret affair with the wayward Prince, you do not have the luxury of taking your time at this hour of the day. Only in the evenings when the King is free of his responsibilities do you have the luxury of basking in each others loving embrace.

Your fingers reach for the lace of his trousers, quickly undoing the knots you push the fabric down far enough to release his cock. Henry slides a finger over your core to ensure you are prepared enough for him. Deeming you to be slick enough he presses his head past your folds, feeling the tight expanse of your opening stretch around him. “Your welcoming and velvety embrace proves you have not bedded another,” Henry groans as he slides fully inside you. You press a kiss to his shoulder as you grasp onto him tightly. “Did you doubt me?” You tease and before more words of a teasing nature can escape your lips Henry pulls his hips back before snapping into you again. You hold tightly to him as he rocks into you again and again, softly and more gently than you were expecting. “I realized not how deeply I missed the weight of your body on mine.” You moan softly and his arms come to wind around you and pull you close to his chest.

Resting his forehead against yours, you allow yourself to believe you are in that small room on Eastcheap instead of inside the palace walls weeks before his departure to war. You cry out softly against his skin as he slides into you with such tender love and care it nearly causes the rippling emotion to rise up inside you and swallow you whole. You feel your body burning with pleasure as you erupt, feeling the hot searing pleasure coursing through every muscle. Feeling you tighten around his most sensitive appendage, Henry swiftly slides out of you and comes across your stomach as you’d done many times before. “I am very much in love with you Y/N,” Henry admits as he stays hovering over you panting. You blush as you gaze up into his eyes, “when I return I shall make you a noble and marry you.” He informs you with a tender smile.

“But how? I am but a mere commoner, born of no significance.” You protest as Henry reaches for a piece of cloth, “I shall think of something in my weeks across the sea.” Henry says after pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “My liege, I am wholly in love with you,” You whisper to him, sitting up to press yourself into his chest. You carefully trace the lines of a new scar across the left side of his face, and you gaze longingly up into his eyes.

“My dear Y/N, I am yours and you are mine.” Henry promises, sealing it with a kiss upon your lips.

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81scorp · 3 years

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21 tips for writing humor

This was not written by me. It was written and uploaded to deviantart Jan 13, 2017 by DesdemonaDeBlake.

All credit goes to her. I just copied and pasted it here.

There are many theories as to the nature, science, and reason for humor. It's an element of human behavior that seems objective in the skill that is required to execute it successfully, and yet just as subjective for how unpredictably it can hit every individual audience member. Today, I'm going to talk about the various forms that humor takes, and give you some tips for making your humorous story a success. To start with, lets look at what I will call the “five scales of comedy”. (Please note that the following is not intended as definitive list of the only sources and scales of humor in the world, only the ones that I have been able to identify within my own life, time, limited understanding, and culture. Also note that I will use the word “Humor” instead of the word “Comedy,” simply because I do not want this discussion on genres to be confused for the type of story that is opposite of Tragedy.)

The Five Scales of Comedy

A story or other source of humor can usually be found along the lines of five different scales. These are: High Humor vs Low Humor, Sweet Humor vs Acidic Humor, Distanced Humor vs Close Humor, Predatory Humor vs Reflective Humor, and Clever vs Ridiculous Humor. These scales stand apart from the sub-genres of humor (dark, slapstick, dry, etc...), and have to do with how the humor affects the audience. Note that there is no “best” type of humor; there is only humor that works in different ways and which impacts different sorts of people. So wherever you find your story in the scales, know that there is no need to change it unless you want to. Also, the names of the scales are just that—names. Just because your story falls into the category of “low” humor, doesn't mean that it is any less valuable than “high” humor.

Range 1: High Humor

Within the range of High vs Low humor, what we are discussing is the how large an audience we are trying to reach. High humor involves jokes and comical situations that are only understood by a very select group of people. An example might be a comedy series that focuses its humor on the experience of working in a corporate office (like … The Office), or perhaps political commentary. These are only funny to those people who have shared the experience or the political knowledge of the person generating the humor. Basically, the higher the humor, the more the entire set-up begins to resemble an inside joke. This type of humor is excellent for gaining the interest of select demographics who you may want to address. For example, if you only want to talk to nerds (I say non-insultingly because I am one and am proud of it), you might have lots of references to science fiction and fantasy.

Range 1: Low Humor

On the opposite side of the range, you have Low Humor. Low Humor deals with topics, jokes, and situations that are more universal to the human experience. An easy example of this is a fart joke. Everyone in the world farts, and most people are in touch enough with their inner child to think that it is funny if the joke is skillfully set up. Again, there is nothing wrong with low humor; and in certain situations it is even preferable. The lower your humor, the larger your potential audience can be. Other examples of low humor might be family life, slapstick, and situational comedy based on everyday experience. Shows like Spongebob Squarepants, for example, involve such a low degree of comedy that people of all ages, demographics, and locations across the world are able to find delight in it.

Range 2: Sweet Humor

The next range of humor, Sweet vs Acidic, deals with the intensity of the humor itself. Sweet Humor involves jokes, situations, and characters that require less pain and cynicism to appreciate. For example, a story that involves simple characters bumbling around, making mistakes, overcoming, and becoming better people for it would generally fall into the range of Sweet. We don't laugh at their misfortune (or if we do, its lighthearted and with limited consequences, like slipping on a banana peel), we laugh because their situations are joyfully amusing.

An example of this are the sort of jokes and humor found in Youtube “Lets Plays,” like those of Markiplier and Jacksepticeye. We don't laugh because of anything bad happening to these people (or the characters that they play); we laugh because they are eccentric, silly, and joyful in a way that also makes us feel joyful. This form of humor can be tremendously encouraging and uplifting to the types of readers who enjoy it.

Range 2: Acidic Humor

On the other hand, we have Acidic humor. Much like with food, most people have strong preferences and limits to how acidic (spicy, sour, or bitter) they like their humor. Acidic humor deals with laughing at topics that are increasingly serious or even tragic, such as death, illness, social injustice, etc... A popular example of acidic humor is South Park. Those of us who enjoy acidic humor will find ourselves laughing at topics that would otherwise likely bring us to tears. The power of acidic humor is that it helps its appreciators to cope with the difficult truths of life, and also to acknowledge problems that we are otherwise tempted to ignore because they are too hard to think about.

An example of an issue addressed in South Park is the elderly, their treatment, and our fear that we will face the same. Sure, when we watch an episode we laugh when the younger characters mistreat and abuse the elderly in the community. However, a conscientious viewer will then begin the chew on the issue, once the episode is over. We'll look at our own actions, and begin to wonder if our treatment of the elderly is just as bad. Because of the acidic humor, these difficult truths come to the forefront of our minds, we gain the courage to actually think about them, and we can even bring them up in discussion with others. This discussion can then lead to people changing the world for the better.

Range 3: Distanced Humor

This range has to deal with the necessary emotional distance we need in order to be able to appreciate a certain level of humor. Even with lighthearted humor like slapstick, which has very low acidity, the audience needs to be distanced in order to laugh. For example, if I watch Bugs Bunny wallop Elmer Fudd on the head with a mallet, it's generally pretty damn funny. I know that these characters are both flat cartoons with limited depth to their character, and that as non-beings they don't really feel pain. Therefore, I don't have empathy to Elmer's pain (because it is really non-existent), and I can laugh. However, if the show were to show me Elmer's life, how he's been a vegan but famine has caused him to need to find meat to feed his family, and how he struggles to even shoot at a rabbit because it makes him feel like he's betraying himself; then I'm not going to laugh if Bugs hit him with a hammer. I'm too close, and need emotional distance in order for my empathy to not get in the way of my humor.

Range 3: Close Humor

We do not need distance in order to find something funny. With close humor, the jokes and situations actually rely on how well we know the characters and how much we empathize with them. An example of Close Humor is Scrubs. In the show actually find ourselves within the mind of the protagonist, JD, and seeing the entire world through his eyes. He tells us about his insecurities, his genuine pain, his fears, and we actually really care about him as a character. Yet, we find humor in his minor misfortunes and even in his silly victories. The closeness of our perspective amplifies the events that happen in his life in a way that distanced humor cannot achieve. For example, when he stutters and says something embarrassing in front of someone he idolizes, we find ourselves giggling. If Elmer Fudd were to stutter in front of someone he idolized, we wouldn't laugh nearly so hard because we can't possibly understand the stakes of the moment or why meeting this person is so important to him. We need to be close to a character for Close Humor to work.

Range 4: Predatory Humor

With the range of Predatory Humor vs Reflective humor, we are discussing who will be the “butt” or target of the joke. (Note that a joke does not necessarily need a butt, as we will discuss later.) While often used in a negative way, in order to bully and shame others, predatory humor is not a bad thing in and of itself. Predatory humor can be used to tackle and harm negative constructs and ideas in our society. For example, Fairly Odd Parents used to frequently attack neglectful and abusive parenting. Note that the while Timmy's (the protagonist of the show) Parents were frequently the butt of jokes, they were also not the real target (just like parents in general were not the target). The targets were their selfish and non-reflective actions that had damaging effects on their son. We can use predatory humor to attack ideas, and point out the evils that are so often overlooked in society. The trick is to always keep vigilance of your own mind, actions, and motives to makes sure that you do not become a bully who targets the people themselves. Because even if someone acts in an evil way, bullying them will never cause that to change.

Range 4: Reflective Humor

On the other side of this range we have Reflective Humor, which serves to make fun of itself. Again using South Park as an example, the creators would often make their own beliefs and ideals the target of their ridicule. For example, it's fairly clear that the show speaks in favor of LGBT rights and for their being accepted as equals in society. However, they also go as far as to mock people who are so over-enthusiastic and pro-LGBT (to the point of hypocrisy). Another example is when the show begins to teach a moral lesson, the writers will often make fun of themselves through the character of Kyle for being so preachy. The effect of the show making fun of itself is two-fold. First, those of us whose beliefs South Park mocks feel like the show is being fair. Thus, we continue to listen to and respect the views of the creators, even if we don't always agree. Second, we trust the messages of a story more when it has the integrity to point out its own failings. Note that unlike with other scales, Reflective and Predatory Humor can actually be interwoven so that a joke or story makes fun of itself just as much as its target.

Range 5: Clever Humor

The last range of humor that we'll discuss is that of Clever vs Ridiculous. This range is fairly self-explanatory, but the core of its nature is what sort of punchline is delivered at the end of a humorous situation. Clever humor takes the audience expectation and amplifies or twists it to an unexpected place. You can see this in the work of comedians such as Louis CK and Demetri Martin. Martin, for example, has a humorous bit about doorways that say “Exit Only.” The joke then involves his compulsive desire to tell store workers that they underestimate the potential of those doors by about 50%. The delivery of the punchline is true and logical, but it such a way that it humorously exceeds audience expectation.

Range 5: Ridiculous Humor

Opposite of Clever Humor, we have ridiculous humor. This is when the punchline of a humorous situation is so absurd that we can't help but laugh. And example of this is the Spongebob Squarepants episode where he and Squidward get lost while delivering a pizza. They become lost in the wilderness and spend the episode becoming more and more so. Then, right at the end, Spongebob exclaims that they are saved because he's found a big beautiful boulder, the likes of which the pioneers used to ride for miles. And, to make matters even more ridiculous, the boulder works—driving just like a car. We find humor because the punchline is simply so grandiosely absurd that we can't help but enjoy it. Note that both Clever and Ridiculous humor require a great amount of skill and thought to pull off successfully, it's just a matter of your preference and your target audience.

The Five Sources of Humor

Once we identify what type of humor we are employing by using the scales, the next thing to consider is what makes our stories funny. This is something of a challenge, because we don't generally put much thought into why humor makes us feel the way it does. The humor either hits or misses, and we laugh or we don't. Making matters even more complicated is that there are so many theories as to why and how humor works—with everyone from Aristotle to Freud interjecting an opinion. But if we look at the particular sorts of things that make people laugh, we can improve how we use humor in our stories.

Source 1: Misfortune

Whether a cartoon character is slipping on a banana peel, or a character in a romantic comedy finds themselves in an embarrassing situation, the misfortune of others seems to be the most popular form of humor. This is why slapstick and funny home videos have been so prevalent in modern humor. Plato and Aristotle seemed to believe that this was because such humor made the audience feel superior to the characters being ridiculed (Superiority Theory). This seems especially true when we see unlikable characters (like the villain in a children's cartoon) experience misfortune in a comical way.

Though Superiority Theory has its place, I would assert that there is an alternative way that people enjoy misfortune. Perhaps the experience of slipping on a banana peel or being in an embarrassing situation is funny because of our own memories of experiencing the same thing or something similar. Freud and others theorized that humor was a release of energy (Relief Theory). Maybe our camaraderie with the character, mixed with emotional distance from the scene we are watching, creates a safe space to release our own stored feelings of pain or embarrassment. Thus laughter really does become a healing force.

Source 2: Absurdity

In his essay “The Myth of Sisyphus”, Albert Camus defines and explains the absurd.

“It's absurd” means “It's impossible” but also “It's contradictory.” If I see a man armed with only a sword attack a group of machine guns, I shall consider his act to be absurd. But it is so solely by virtue of the disproportion between his interaction and the reality he will encounter. […] Likewise we shall deem a verdict absurd when we contrast it with the verdict the facts apparently dictated. (29)

Though Camus is not talking about humor (rather the existentialist question), I think that the absurd is a source of humor. Audiences are often entertained by the absurdity of a situation. And by looking at Camus' explanation, we can hypothesize that this form of humor comes from the disproportionate contrast of action and situation. An example of this might be one of the last battle-scenes in Braveheart. In this scene, victory looks unlikely, the dramatic tension is high, and it seems to be the most serious moment imaginable. Then, upon being signaled, the protagonist's soldiers pull up their kilts and reveal their bare asses to the enemy. It's so unexpected and so absurd, that many people cannot help but to keel over laughing.

This scene is completely disproportionate to what we would expect to see in this dramatic a moment. The action does not suit the situation, but in a strange way it also kind of does—with the action juxtaposing itself against the situation. Perhaps, just like with misfortune, absurd humor creates a needed release of energy, connected to our own sense of existentialist absurdism. The absurd could then serve to release our feelings of despair in a positive light. The show, Rick and Morty, seems to be built on this connection between absurd humor blended with existentialism and nihilism. Of course, this is just a theory. What you'll want to focus on when writing absurd humor is the relationship of your characters' actions to the situations that they find themselves in. Are they lost in the desert? Have them climb a boulder and ride it home. The stronger the contrast between action and situation, the higher you'll make the potential for absurdity.

Source 3: Wit

Wit is the essence of Clever Humor; its the pithy intelligence that makes us laugh because of all the thought put into a situation. When we hear a witty joke or are part of a witty situation, we find ourselves moving in a forward humorous momentum, instead of the backwards and diagonal momentum of the absurd. But we don't stop at the expected location. For example my mother called me a few months ago, asking me if I was going to wish my brother a happy birthday. The expected response for this sort of set-up/situation is to answer “Yes” or “No”. But I went forward and beyond “No” by asking why she wanted me to congratulate my brother for being one year closer to death (I have an acidic sense of humor sometimes). This reply was much more thoughtful than what my mother expected, and pointlessly taken beyond the realm of reason. Therefore, she found it funny.

Perhaps there is an element of the absurd in any given amount of witty humor. It's as if we are taking extra steps to be as intelligent and rational as possible—ending with us standing somewhere close to the absurd. Using Camus' illustration of absurdity, the soldier with a sword wouldn't necessarily attack the machine guns, but instead go home, refusing to sacrifice his life to be a metaphor. You can see this sort of humor in Youtube series such as How it Should Have Ended. In this series, animators take a closer look at popular movies and then make efforts to enforce logic in worlds and characters that didn't have them. This includes having Severus Snape use his time-travel gizmo to go back in time and kill Voldemort before he became a problem—an action that is so logical that it erases the need for any of the Harry Potter stories to even happen. So when you create witty humor, look to take things beyond the realm of expectation—aiming for the absurdly reasonable.

Source 4: Anti-humor

Anti-humor is when something is so unfunny that it becomes funny, sort of like puns. As we find delight in the absurd and the unexpected, humor and jokes can begin to feel predictable. We begin to look for the solution in jokes, and we're usually smart enough to begin to be able to predict it. In this case, the expected becomes surprising. An example is the classic: “Why did the chicken cross the road? To get to the other side.” If you haven't heard it before, this anti-humor joke is actually kind of funny. A great example of this are the great collection anti-jokes found online.

You can take anti-jokes to the next level using extremely acidic humor. This is where you take serious, grievous, or tragic topics and use them as the punchline for your joke. For example, a joke about a fatal illness is not funny because the person making the joke finds that topic amusing (otherwise that person needs some counseling). A joke about fatal illness can be funny to some people for the exact opposite reason—because of how dark and unfunny it is. Again, I believe this ties into a release of negative energy while in a safe space, and the processing of difficult emotions. If you plan to use the extreme form of anti-humor, please note that many people have very legitimate reasons for not enjoying it. So be careful, and give your audience some sort of forewarning so that you do not spring something so emotionally charged on them without their consent.

Source 5: Familiarity and Value

When I was taking university writing classes, I had an extremely eccentric professor who had all sorts of mannerisms that were unique to him. In the moments when he was particularly eccentric and acting out of his true nature (which he was quite comfortable with), I would find myself laughing, even if the situation wasn't funny. I think others can relate to this, as we all love to talk about fun people that we used to know, and find ourselves laughing even when what we are remembering isn't particularly funny. We laugh because those people acting happily out of their own nature gave us joy, and so anything they do creates a laughter that feels akin to humor.

This mirth through familiarity can be accomplished in stories as well. In Bob's Burgers, for example, we really don't even begin to understand the humor until we develop an attachment and feelings for each individual character. Sure the situations are mildly amusing, but true laughter and humor doesn't begin until we know the characters, their likes, their dislikes, and who they are deep down inside. Once we know that, we laugh as each character acts out of their nature. When we see Louise (one of the protagonists) act with mischievous intent, we laugh even before we know what she's doing because we are happy that she is about to act out of who she really is. Note that this is a rather difficult sort of humor to pull off because you have to create a relationship between the characters and the audience before the humor will be possible.

General Tips for Humor

Tip 1: Create a patterned and uniform blend of humor for your story.

When you choose what sort of humor you plan to use in your story, the best way of maintaining audience enjoyment is to keep it constant. Just like when we watch a stand-up comedian, we begin to develop a taste and sense of expectation for whatever we are watching or reading. Over time, your audience will begin to really appreciate the flavor of your humor, and that appreciation will make your jokes increasingly funny (so long as they are creative and continue to be intelligently crafted). The pattern will also make all of your jokes seem, feel, and become purposeful. Your audience will enjoy this much more than if you seem like you are desperately trying to milk the humor from anything you can get your hands on (you perv).

I recommend you begin by analyzing the origins of humor in your story's world. Is the world simply absurd, with unseen gods of chaos just dropping coconuts on people's heads for pure amusement? Does the humor come from a specific character? A group of funny people living in a serious world that they must learn to cope with through humor? A funny narrator with a unique perspective on life? Once you figure out the origins, determine where your humor will fit on the scales (it doesn't have to be on any extreme, you can stay in the middle of the scales and still be hilarious); and then figure out the source.

Tip 2: Create a genuine story with genuine characters, in order for humor to gain the most power.

If we value stories in terms of how much people enjoy and remember them, the best humor stories are those with good plots and characters. This may seem counter-intuitive when your intent is to make your audience laugh, but think of it this way. If an audience wants just concentrated jokes, they will read a joke-book. Your audience is choosing to dredge through the murky waters of story in order to find the humor with more difficulty because they want a blend of story and humor.

An example of this is the movie,“Austin Powers.” Many people, myself included, watched these movies before we ever watched the James Bond movies that they were making fun of. And we enjoyed them greatly, and laughed the entire way through. Why? Because the characters and story, ridiculous as they were, were good enough that we actually invested our interest and emotions into them. As an added bonus, the story has become timeless and respected in its own right. Even if we face a future where nobody knows who James Bond is, the Austin Powers movies will be able to stand on their own merit because they are more than just jokes.

Tip 3: Be careful about dating yourself.

Speaking of parody and humor losing its ability to be funny, let's talk about references that date our stories. Humor at the expense of popular culture (movies, politicians, celebrities) is a fun ploy of high-humor. It's especially useful for nighttime comedy shows that will be lost to time anyways, within a couple years. When you are writing a novel, however, you are trying to create something that will last a bit longer than that. Additionally, novels take a lot longer to write than an episode of a late night comedy show. This means that by the time you publish and people begin to discover your book, they may not know who the vapid pop star you're making fun of is. Your humor will be lost to time, and your book quite possibly forgotten. Of course, I'm not telling you that you can't use this sort of humor, just that you should be aware of the risks it holds.

Tip 4: Mark every line that is supposed to be funny, and make sure that it is.

Nothing detracts from a story or from a spirit of jovial humor so much as an obvious joke that falls flat. It's like watching an acrobatics show. If the acrobat falls on their face too many times you'll either be embarrassed for them or you'll empathize and start worrying for their safety. Either way, you won't find the situation amusing. In your own personal copy of the manuscript, mark every joke for analysis of whether it actually succeeds and whether it serves to empower the story. Then, ask your editors, test-readers, and writing partner to circle every point that they genuinely found funny. Be sure to pick test-readers who fall into the niche you are writing for, as well as those who do not. If nobody but you marked a specific joke, then you need to either get feedback for how to make it funnier, or else cut it.

Tip 5: Write within your own expertise and authority.

This does not mean that you can't laugh at things, and poke fun at things that are outside your realm of expertise, so long as you have done your research. But consider the power of an insider making a joke about something that you are a part of vs an outsider doing the same. It would be like the difference between me calling most writers narcissists (as I am one, and know that it is pretty true in most instances) and a politician making a joke and calling writers narcissists. I mean, what right does that asshole have to judge us, even if it is true? The point is that your jokes gain power when you can tell them with the confidence of an insider. Not only that, but your audience who is a part of the group at the butt of the joke, will be much more gracious and feel far less attacked when the joke comes from one of their own.

Tip 6: Humor is personal

Humor is something that is highly individual to specific groups and people. For example, I do not understand, nor am I really able to appreciate most British or Spanish comedies. This is not because they aren't funny; they are just as valid and hilarious as every form of comedy that I do enjoy. The reason is simply that because of either how I was raised, my life experiences or because of who I am by nature, I can't enjoy them any more than I can enjoy olives on my pizza (seriously, I hate them). It doesn't matter how artfully these types of humor are composed, there is simply no effect akin to joy, amusement, or laughter when I come across them. In other words, the problem is me and not them.

All this is to make three points. First, it may be more difficult to find test-readers and worthwhile criticism for humorous work. Even if I'm really good at critiquing stories, I will not be able to give you any helpful feedback if your humor doesn't match with mine. And that isn't your fault any more than it's my fault. It's just a difference in taste. Second, humor is as personal and close to the heart as any other story or craft. When you create a joke, you are channeling whatever emotions and mixes of experiences have led you to the type of humor you have. So recognize the emotional bond between yourself and your humor.

The third piece of advice is for those on the other end of the spectrum, those experiencing the humor of others and perhaps trying to give advice. Please recognize that others' sense of humor is just as valid as yours. Whether their sense of humor is simple, complex, dry, witty, dark, acidic, sweet, or anything in between, it is their sense of humor and not yours. Be careful in how you voice any attempts at criticism, as there are few ways to break your friends' trust and confidence as completely as when you tell them, “That's not funny.” You might as well be telling them that their heart sucks, and they are a sucky person.

Instead, acknowledge the differences in people's humor, value it even if that humor makes you uncomfortable, and voice your criticisms accordingly. Try: “This joke wasn't successful with me, and might be perceived as racist/bullying/insensitive to some readers; so seek other feedback to see if it's just me.” You will voicing just as honest an opinion, without formulating a direct attack against the person who has trusted you with something so delicate to them.

Weekly Recommended Watching: Doraleous and Associates by Hank and Jed. (A free animated fantasy Youtube series that manages to successfully mesh several humor types with an over-arching plot. Examine how even there are plot elements that are serious and even sad, the series maintains its humor through well-balanced distance and wit. And if this form of humor does not amuse you, that is perfectly valid and your own unique sense of humor is still a valuable thing.)

#81scorp #21 tips for writing humor #comedy

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dilxc · 3 years

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Here’s my C0 LVL 90 Ganyu Build!

For her weapon, you could go with the Prototype (i use it, it’s vv nice for f2p/low spenders), the viridescent bow, and the bow from the monthly shop I have all heard work the best for like I said, f2p/low spenders. However if you have acquired Amos Bow i’d suggest using it because it’s meant for her!

I went with the 4 piece Blizzard Strayer Set because it gives an extra 40% crit rate another insanely good set on her is the 4 piece Wanderer’s Troupe Set!

For each and every single artifact I got at least 12% crit damage and 5-7% crit rate, i know that’s hard to do since substats are basically gacha, but try to get those two! HP substats, and atk/atk% are also really good as substats which is what I managed to get for the rest.

For my cup I went with Cryo Damage Bonus, The Crown I went with ATK% since I was able to reach 140%+ crit damage with the extra from substats, ATK% for the hourglass as well :)

Her Charged shots are definitely the meat of her, allowing you to do AOE cryo damage every time you charge the arrows to +2! They not only do massive damage, but they’ve made Ganyu a new slice of life character as she makes it extremely easy to farm fish, ducks, boars, and most importantly Timmie’s Birds 😈. It’s the one I would focus the most with when leveling talents, since you’re using it the most

Her E’ is the second photo I have up, which shuns away all impurity and plops out a Lotus. The Lotus itself is made out of Ice and is capable of receiving white damage, this is because it scales with Ganyu’s HP! It’s a taunt that doesn’t do AOE damage but instead explodes.

Her Q is a cryo orb she releases above her, that then does constant AOE cryo damage to anything and everyone standing inside of it. The Q as well as her charged shots do a great amount of damage.

I really hope this was a decent, cohesive, rundown of Ganyu! If there was anything I missed, don’t feel afraid to send me a question! Enjoy!

#genshin impact #genshin impact ganyu #ganyu #keqing #zhongli #diluc #mona genshin impact #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact keqing

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spicyspencerreid · 4 years

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Just Friends| Part Two

A Timothée Chalamet Imagine: Part One Part Three Part Four Part Five

Female!Reader, Dancer/Actress!Reader, CoStar!Reader, FrenchSpeaking!Reader//2800 Words

Summary of part one// Reader and Timothée are best friends. They are going to be costars on a new movie where Y/n plays a dancer and has a small, but still important, role, and Timothée’s a lead. There’s a storm and Y/n’s hotel is having issues, so she has to stay in Timothée’s apartment.

Warnings// Grammar/spelling and lack of proofreading//Extra soft Timmy; Cursing; Really soft fluff: y/n’s side of it is romantic, but Timothée just sees it in a platonic way, it’s really beautiful in a sad way. IM SORRY ITS SO FUCKING SLOW AND LITERAL SHIT, i like kinda know where I’m going with it, but like I don’t. Just send me a request with how you want it to go please...let me know!

Key: French writing (english translation), Y/n/n-Your nickname, Y/f/n-Your first name, Y/l/n-Your last name

(Added July 2020) Note: this whole series was written before Ansel Elgort’s allegations arose, and honestly, in the most disrespectful way possible: I hope he rots in hell. I ALWAYS stand with the victim, and if that’s going to be a problem, find another series to read. If the mention of his name is triggering to you, PLEASE do not read. If you or anyone you know has been sexually assaulted or abused, do not be afraid to speak up, but if that’s not the route you personally want to take: you can call 1-800-656-4673, available 24 hours every day and 100% confidential.

this is the apartment I used for inspiration//I put links in the specific rooms when they were mentioned so it would feel more ~real~ lol.

You knocked on the door. It was almost 4:00, but it felt like 2:00AM with the time difference combined with your lack of sleep. You glanced a peak at yourself in the reflection of the door, and your face dropped as you saw yourself, instantly becoming extra conscious of the way you looked. You eyes were still a little a little watery, but it didn’t look like you were crying too much. The rain had wet your hair, and your face, and your mascara stained your under-eyes. You sighed realizing you’d already knocked and didn’t have any time to fix yourself.

The door opened. You put on a soft smile and let out a weak little hi. Timothée took one look at your mascara-stained face and pulled you into his apartment. His arms wrapped around your waist as you rested your head in the crook of his neck. You peeked your eyes up to look into the apartment. You were both in the small sitting room, but you caught a glimpse of the kitchen. It was beautiful. White, clean, cozy, and perfect.

“I’m getting your hoodie all wet.” You laughed into his neck, feeling more comfortable in his arms than you had felt in a very long time. You smiled as you pulled away, a tired, but genuine smile.

“I don’t mind,” he looked into your eyes as you suddenly became super aware of his hands lingering on your waist, “let me show you to your room, Mademoiselle.”

“Si vous insistez, mon ami.” (If you insist, my friend.) You reached for your bags, but Timothée practically slapped your hand out of the way, insisting he’d bring them to your room while you were in the shower. He led you down a short hallway, right by the entrance, adjacent to a bookcase.

“Well this is it,” he motioned to the room, it was blue, your favorite, which made you smile. You admired the pattern on the walls as he continued to talk about the room, “And this is the bathroom, the storm shut off the power a couple hours ago, so the heat still isn’t back on, but the hot water heater should be good. I’ll bring your stuff in while you shower...and extra blankets,” he giggled as his mind brought him back to your apartment in New York. You had the largest collection of blankets he’d ever seen.

“Thank you, I swear I’ll be out of here by tomorrow, I’ll call the hotel tomorrow morning to check on their status, but I think the system should be up by-” “Stop. Please tell me you’re kidding, you’re staying here as long as you need to.” He stood in the doorway of the room, resting his head against the wall. “Timothée...I couldn’t-” your fear of imposing was crawling back into your system, but to be honest, that wasn’t the biggest issue you had with this. You’re main problem was the idea of being stuck in a small, romantic apartment, in what happened to be the most romantic city on earth, with the last guy you wanted to feel romantic about at the moment.

“How long do they need you on set?” you sighed, knowing where this was going.

“Four weeks, then I have interviews and cameos lined up for two weeks after, then I’m flying back to New York, so technically six weeks-”

“Okay, well they need me here for two months and a half, that’s...” you giggled as he did the simple math in his head, “Ten weeks. So you are staying here, with me, in this apartment for the six weeks you need to be here.”

“Timothée...” the exhaustion was starting to really hit you.

“I’m not taking no for an answer, now go shower.” you caved.

“TMZ is going to LOVE this one,” you waved your hands in the air as you walked into the bathroom.

“I’m already expecting a very angry call from Celine once Kelsey lets her know,” you giggled as he mentioned his publicist, who always seemed to have an issue with something. You closed the door of the bathroom and sighed as you undressed.

After showering you dried your hair and picked up your phone, you hadn’t checked it since you were at the hotel. There was a missed call from your mom, so you left her a voicemail and quickly updated her on your situation. Kelsey had called about fifteen times in the past hour, and you did not plan on calling her back.

You stared at yourself in the mirror as you dried your hair until was at least damp. You put some blush over your cheeks once you realized it was only a little past 4:30. You put on leggings and a cropped-sweatshirt and you left your cozy room. You walked into the living room and spotted Timothée eating off of a plate of fruit at the kitchen counter while talking to his phone, you admired his outfit. He was wearing a dark green hoodie, simple, but the way it brought out his eyes made the butterflies in your stomach do flips.

“And there she is...” you heard him say to his screen, “I’m live on instagram. I was telling our fans the situation you’d gotten yourself into...” You rolled your eyes as you grabbed a strawberry and bit into it. He turned around the phone to show you to the camera, you waved and his fans went crazy, of course, “A situation, that wouldn’t have occurred, if you’d agreed to stay with me in the first place,” “Whatever, Timothée,” you laughed.

“Okay guys I’m gonna sign off...uh...how do I end this thing?” Timothée was probably the most intelligent man you knew, but his lack of energy on social media did not leave him particularly knowledgeable in moments like these.

“You have to click the ‘end live’ button.”

“Where’s that?”

“C'est dans le coin,” (it’s in the corner)

“Non, c'est ma photo de profil,” (no, that’s my profile picture)

“Ugh, laisse-moi le faire.” (let me do it) You grabbed his phone and waved goodbye to his fans as you ended the live. You laughed with him as you placed a bet on who would get the most calls from your publicists.

“Tu as faim? (are you hungry?) We could go out to a cafe a couple blocks away if you want.” He smiled as he popped a blueberry into his mouth and went to the refrigerator, grabbing whipped cream, your favorite, and a plate, where he put some whipped cream on it. You thanked him while you picked up another strawberry and dipped it in the whipped cream, melting over the fact that you didn’t have to ask.

“You know, I’m kinda hungry, mais je suis très, très fatigué... (but I am very, very tired)” you usually would’ve toughed it out and gone to dinner, having been pretty good at faking your way through a dinner at this point, but you were at a whole new level of sleep-deprived.

“Okay, so how about we get a couple margarita pizzas delivered and watch a movie. Sonne bien? (Sound good?)”

“That sounds amazing.” you sighed out of relief.

“The menu on my nightstand has the number on it, I’ll go call.” he squeezed your shoulder and walked into his room. You walked around, running your fingers over the bookshelves throughout the apartment. You smiled as your eyes laid on Call Me By Your Name, the book cover having the picture of him and Armie on it. You thought back to the night you’d met, and how nervous you were. You pulled the book out from the bookshelves, running your fingers over the cover. You thought about that little crush you’d had on him, how sweet he’d been to you, how he remained to be the same easy to talk to guy no matter how many more lead roles he booked. You felt your face heating up as you realized how it’d already felt too long since Ansel had teased you about it. You skimmed through the book, trying to find your moments, but you shut it as fast as you could once you found yourself imagining Timothée kissing you instead of Armie.

“L'avez-vous lu?” (Have you read it?) you jumped, dropping the book on the ground. Timothée was once again resting in the doorway of yet another room, he laughed once he realized he’d scared you.

“Yeah, actually, I read it the night after the premiere, wanted to see if it was as good as the move.” you giggled as you picked up the book and put it back in the bookcase while collecting yourself.

“What was the verdict?”

“I still think the movie was better, but if I anyone asks, I never said that...”

“Alright, I won’t say anything, I appreciate it though.” he laughed when he spoke. That smile was killing you. The doorbell rang and Timothée went to grab the pizza. You two ate and talked for a while, discussing the upcoming movie. You talked about how excited you were, you hadn’t danced in a movie since the one you were in with Zendaya. After you finished eating Timothée cleaned up and you argued over a movie to watch in his room.

“Y/n. You’ve never seen Pride and Prejudice? That has to be illegal in some countries. Everyone’s seen Pride And Prejudice!” You think this might’ve been the maddest you’d ever seen him before.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, the opportunity’s never presented itself. Let’s watch Marriage Story, we can watch Pride And Prejudice tomorrow? When I’m not about pass out from exhaustion...?”

“D’accord, d’accord, (okay, okay) fine. Marriage Story it is...” you let out a silent yes as you both walked into his room. He pulled back the closet doors to reveal a rather nice TV.

“Yay!” you giggled flopping down onto the right side of his bed, “This is the first time I’ve officially laid on a bed in about 40 hours.”

He smiled, typing in Marriage Story on Netflix before laying down on the opposite side of the bed.

About an hour and a half into the movie, about the fifth time you’d almost drifted off into sleep, you’d noticed Timothée had practically covered his whole body except for his eyes in a blanket. You took one look at him and bursted into laughter.

“Fuck off, I don’t understand how you’re not freezing right now.” he was right, it was pretty cold in the apartment, since the heat still wasn’t up yet.

“I like the cold...and the sound of the rain, this is all pretty relaxing to me...” you laughed.

“Okay fine then, come here.” he opened his arm towards you and your eyes snapped to meet his.

“What?”

“Come here, I’m cold, I need your body heat.” You’d cuddled with Timothée on multiple occasions, but all of them led to you stuck in your thoughts at night as feelings resurfaced, and most of them led to you realizing you never wanted to leave his arms. You looked into his pleading green eyes and melted, moving over and shifting yourself so you were right up against him. His arm reached around you and you laid your head on his chest. A couple minutes later, he spoke again.

“You know, you can go to sleep if you want.” he whispered as he started to lightly drag his hand up and down your back, you felt lucky you were way too tired to give it a second thought. You looked over to the clock on the nightstand, it was only 6:00.

“Non, je ne peux pas. (no, I can’t) I have to wake up early tomorrow and start learning a turn sequence for rehearsal. I can’t really risk my sleep schedule right now, you know that.” you muttered into his chest. You knew if you went to sleep now, you’d wake up at midnight and not be able to sleep, then fall into a schedule of going to bed at dinner time, which wouldn’t work out well with your schedule for the movie.

“There’s only a half hour or so left in the movie, go to sleep and I promise I’ll wake you up when it ends, you haven’t slept in so long,” he started to draw circles on the exposed space between your leggings and your sweatshirt, his cold, soft, fingers giving you goosebumps, “détends-toi.” (just relax) You sighed into his chest as his hands started to lull you to sleep.

“Y/n, the movie’s over,” You awoke to Timothée lightly whispering in your ear. You leaned up and rubbed your eyes.

“Hi.” your eyes met his.

“Hi sleeping beauty.” He smiled and you blushed at the nickname. He knew it reminded of you the ballet, making your eyes light up every time you spoke about it. You realized how close his face was to yours. You became strongly aware of how close his lips were to yours, how easy it would be to just inch a little closer, and meet them with yours, and more importantly, how bad you wanted to. How bad you wanted to make that tiny little space vanish. You snapped out of it once you’d realized you were staring, hoping he didn’t notice too, but he did, he always did, you just didn’t know it. It was a quarter till seven, you sat up on the bed, and he did with you, needing to keep yourself busy so you wouldn’t fall asleep again. He kept his arm around you, and you two started to talk. You loved the late night talks you had, wether it was at midnight or just after lunch. You eventually made your way to the living room, and Timothée poured you both glasses of wine as you took your seat on the couch.

“So, are you nervous for your first day of rehearsals?” He handed you your glass and put his arm back around you. It was a stupid question, of course you were nervous, you were always nervous, about every new opportunity that came your way.

“Yeah, I’ve gotta a couple turn sequences to memorize tomorrow. I just hope I don’t embarrass myself too much.” you were beyond nervous to work with the choreographer on this movie.

“Stop, you’ll be fine, they didn’t even audition you. They practically begged you to be in this film.” he wasn’t wrong, the director had reached out himself, saying he didn’t even need to see you, he’d just send you the script and wait for your response.

“Doesn’t mean I’m good enough for the role though, you know? They haven’t even seen me in the choreography, or how I fit with the other dancers, or any of it. I could be a total mess and they couldn’t do anything about it.”

“You’ve got to stop doubting yourself, do I have to remind you who you are?” He playfully shoved you, “I’ll never understand how you flawlessly played Sleeping Beauty in front of 3,800 people once a week for six months, but you somehow still doubt yourself when you’re just going to be in a room with a couple people?” he had a good point, but you didn’t see it like that.

“First of all, and you know this better than I do, the lights block out the audience when you’re on stage. And second of all, doing that show every day is ten million times less scary than being judged in a small room with people that matter.” “I know what you mean..., but I still think you’re too good to doubt yourself...”

“Oh really Mr. Hotshot?” it was you shoving him this time.

“One day...y/n/n...,” he took a sip of his wine, “...one day I’m gonna get you to realize how amazing you are.” You looked at him and sighed.

“One day...,” you took a sip of your wine before sitting in down on the coffee table, it was finally past ten, you’d been talking for hours and barely realized. You could finally go to bed without ruining your sleep schedule, “I should probably head to bed.”

“I’ll get your glass, goodnight Y/n.”

“Goodnight Timothée.”

And there it was again, there you were again. You were doing what you knew you’d be doing the second you caved and allowed yourself to fall into his arms during the movie. The same as you did any time the two of you had gotten remotely close to each other. Every time you sat together on the couch in Z’s apartment. Every time Ansel had made a joke about your little crush, the one that was beginning to grow larger and larger. Damn. You were in for a long night of over-thinking.

Some of you asked to be tagged holy shit you guys have no idea how happy that makes me oh my god, I’m still tagging ppl btw, my phone’s dead lol so I’m on my mac:

@sspidermanss @fandom-food-fire @gigi-maria-argu @meaganl124 @danidomm

I DONT LIKE THIS NEARLY AS MUCH AS I LIKE THE FIRST PART IM SORRY :(( I LOVE YOU GUYS THOUGH THANK YOU FOR THE LOVE ON THE FIRST PART. IDK WHAT IM GONNA DO FOR PART THREE. I wanted to like make him start dating Lily and then y/n like cries to Zendaya and I had a lot of thought about that...please let me know about part 3!!!!!!

#timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet imagine #timothée chalamet #timothée smut #timothée x reader #armie x timothee #zendaya #ansel elgort #timothee fanfic #timothee x reader #timothee x you #timothee red carpet #timotheetea #timothée #just friends

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