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cheesiedomino · 2 months

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Second chances ꙳ ੭ * ‧

synopsis: your old situationship from many years ago just moved back in town and of course, he has to text you. but it’s not just any normal text — he’s asking you out on a proper date this time. will you give a second chance to Cupid? or will you be left here feeling stupid?

genre: lee minho x fem!reader | exes (??) to lovers wc: 4.6k tags/warnings: fluff, some light angst, slightly suggestive but nothing srs, mild cursing, kissing, small mentions of crying T-T

now playing 🎧: from the start by laufey

[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]

“Why don’t you give Tinder a try already? I’m sick of hearing you nagging all day about being lonely!” Areum abruptly suggests mid-convo , resting her palm on the side of her face.

As you both casually wait for the food to arrive, you end up on the dreadful topic of dating again. You got into a real heated discussion with her, sitting in a booth at this new restaurant one of your coworker’s recommended. It wasn’t super well known but they wouldn’t stop raving about how delicious their breadsticks were. The place wasn’t too jam packed but definitely had a decent amount of people. What you weren’t anticipating on was seeing dozens of couples here, it kind of threw your whole vibe off since it only reminded you of your current sad relationship status. Maybe you were putting far too much thought into it but everything seemed so highly unfair. Glaring in envy while they all happily rub in your face that they’ve found their forever companion.

Life really can be cruel at times.

“You can’t be for real right now..” you instantly side eye your friend from across the table. Feeling personally triggered whenever she mentions online dating. You refuse to try it, never wanting to partake in such a vain concept where you swipe left and right based solely on looks. “That’s not the same as real romance. I want to meet someone naturally, wanna tell my kids when they grow up how I met their dreamy, hunk of a father in aisle 39 at Whole Foods.”

One could say it’s almost pathetic in a way— this burning desire you harbor within, longing for a pure, quaint, and beautiful love. Constantly catching yourself daydreaming about finding your life partner, the person you’re going to marry and possibly create an eternal family with. That day has yet to come unfortunately, but you still hold onto the thought of you someday meeting the one.

You thought you found them before, but thou shalt not speak thy names out into existence.

“Well, good luck finding ‘real romance’ in the big age of 2024-” Areum snorts in amusement, taking a pause to sip on her mango strawberry lemonade. “I need whatever drugs you’re on that’s making you this delulu so I can fantasize about my knight and shining armor that’s never coming!”

God you hate that word. Delulu. Why are you suddenly “delusional” for wanting a picture perfect romance? It doesn’t need to be perfect per se, but you want to feel adored, swept off your feet and embraced like the true queen you are. Was that too much to ask? Considering the current state of dating in this day and age, it might just be.

“I mean, let’s face it girl. You literally don’t know the first thing about love ___, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows like in the K-dramas y’know! Haven’t you only had like one boyfriend in high school? You barely even dated that guy for a month-”

“That’s because he dumped me to go move to LA and become a dumb YouTuber!” You snapped back, cutting her off to get all the facts straight.

It was hard not to grimace while thinking of such old memories. Dating a Minecraft streamer definitely had to be one of the most embarrassingly cringe choices you’ve ever made.

“Whatever that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to get at here is you don’t have the best track record when it comes to men. Remember that other guy you were seeing before we graduated? I thought y’all would’ve dated for sure but he turned out to be a dickhole just like the rest of ‘em…” Areum shakes her head in disbelief, recalling all those times you’d call in a frenzied panic about things not working out.

“What was his name again? Min… Minwoo? No, that’s not it.. it was definitely Min something.” She attempts on remembering but keeps drawing a blank.

“Minho.” You answer almost instantaneously. His name still rolled off the tongue smooth as velvet.

It felt weird though. Saying it out loud after so many years of blocking it from your immediate vocabulary. A name you thought would never escape your lips again.

“Damn, you really still think about him don’t you?” She dares to ask, knowing how difficult it is for you to even talk about this anymore.

You only respond by nodding slowly, unable to bring yourself to look at her. It was far too intense; bearing the emotions of hurt and guilt from a past fling that meant more to you but nothing to the other. That’s how most of your tragic stories end— always too overly into them while they barely reciprocate any of that energy towards you. The thing is, you thought Minho actually liked you, even so far as wanting to date in the near future. Considering he brought you over his parent’s house (to hook up of course), and though you didn’t meet them you still think that meant something. Most men don’t just bring any woman they’re seeing to their parent’s place without somewhat thinking a potential relationship could happen down the line.

“So that’s why you should download Tinder and start swipin’ on some other cuties! It’ll at least distract you for a bit and get your mind off that asswipe,” Areum pitches her idea once more, “there’s plenty other fish in the sea ___. Not everyone online is some crazy serial killer, plus you clearly don’t seem to be having much luck out in the real world.”

You wanted to jump up from the table and erase that smirk from her face but instead you roll your eyes at that last remark. “I don’t need those shitty dating apps. I’m very capable of finding someone in real life for your information!” You quickly retort as a means to defend yourself. Even though she did have a point, her delivery could’ve been a little bit nicer.

It’s not easy being a hopeless romantic, you can’t help but yearn for that special someone to enter your life and change it for the better. You won’t feel wholly satisfied nor complete until you do. The sad reality of the matter was that you are still painfully single. No one’s interesting enough to cease your attention, let alone go on any actual dates. Areum’s had enough of your bitching and whining though, there’s only so many rants and tirades she can keep listening to about your vicious hatred for men before she loses it completely. Your nonexistent love life has become more of a nuisance as that time of year approaches— Valentine’s Day. A god forsaken holiday you’ve always loathed with a passion. Wanting nothing more than to be one of those girls on the receiving end getting flowers and chocolates. A day full of the utmost joy and pleasant surprises from your loving significant other.

Must be nice..

Speaking of surprises.. The buzzing in your ear echoes from your phone pinging loudly, indefinitely startling you. Grabbing it to check the sudden notification, your eyes go absurdly wide at the contact name displayed on your screen. Blinking numerous times from shock, you stare at your phone in incredulity; making sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

Lee Minho. The Lee Minho?

What kind of sorcery is being conjured where the instant you bring him up, he somehow texts you after all these years of not speaking? This coincidence was more than unsettling to you. A part of your inner thoughts still believes this is all some elaborate joke being played on you, waiting for a cameraman to pop out of some curtain to announce you’ve just been pranked. But nothing happens, life proceeds as normal. Now you’re left with the most puzzling notification you might’ve ever received.

It was your last year of college and the pressure of your academics along with appeasing your family was getting to you immensely. You needed an escape from all of it, desperately. Which you found through none other than Lee Minho, the boy who worked as a barista at Cozmo’s; this coffee shop you used to frequent a lot. It was a cute, small family-owned establishment and they made the best matcha lattes— in your humble opinion. You’d pick one up almost every day along with a slice of freshly baked cinnamon bread. It started off as only playful banter with him in the beginning, then it lead to more as time went on. One day, as you reached out to pay he blocked your hand from moving any closer, letting you freely walk away without spending a dime. This soon became a regular occurrence, as you’d start seeing Minho outside of work, getting to know more and more about him. You remember so desperately wanting to date back then, pitying your past self for thinking there was even a chance.

‘Maybe he’s just texted the wrong person’ you psyche yourself into thinking, but when you unlock your phone to finally read the message — an uncomfortable lump forms in the pit of your throat.

Minho 🐈:

Hey is this still ___’s number?

You honestly don’t know why you still have his number saved, let alone allowing a whole emoji to be next to it. Though it never was like you to delete anything, no matter how painful it may have been. More lingering questions makes you want to seek out the possible solutions. Why would he text you of all people ? None of this adds up in your mind realistically. Furrowing your brows in concentration, you think of what to say as you draft out a response.

Yes… who’s this?

After a tedious struggle of typing out multiple paragraphs and immediately deleting them, you went over your words a few more times before sending a final reply. It would’ve been strange had you knew exactly who he was off the bat, that’ll just be dead giveaway you still had his contact info saved this whole time. But with that logic, doesn’t that make Minho just as odd for still keeping your number after all this time has passed?

Your phone dings again.

Minho 🐈:

Srsly -_-

Did you really delete my number??

Bet he didn’t see that one coming. He probably thought the moment he texts you, you were gonna kiss up to him like you’ve always done in the past. Mentally giggling to yourself at the image of him getting flustered by you not knowing who he was at first. Feels good to know you knocked his confidence down a peg.

Lol, chillax.. I know it’s you Minho :P

Not even a minute later, a flood of incoming messages appear. Biting your lip out of nervousness, your heart couldn’t stop beating so fast— anxiously checking your phone as the atmosphere around you suddenly gets stuffier.

Minho 🐈:

Better be lucky I didn’t block you after that ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

Guess who’s back in the city btw. Did ya miss me? ;)

No need to answer that, I already know you did. You should stop by at Cozmo’s again sometime!

Also what’re you up to this week? I need you to clear out all your plans because I’m taking you out on a date.

You always knew Minho was the bold type but this was on another level. The sheer audacity he has to even ask something like this after not reaching out for almost 3 years was more than ballsy on his part. It felt like a surge of butterflies erupting in your stomach, getting lightheaded as you think about seeing him again. He really had an effect on you like no other.

Glancing up from your screen to finally pay attention to Areum again, you assure her everything’s going to be just fine. “Looks like I won’t be needing to download Tinder after all.”

Later on that day you ended up going to Cozmo’s and meeting up with Minho. It never really took much convincing from him to get you to budge, though it was a hell of a lot worse back then. You used to blindly follow along with anything he said just to seek his approval, hoping that eventually he’ll see you as the girl he wants to settle down with. Alas, nothing ever blossomed into something more, and you knew deep down that this was headed nowhere— but that still didn’t stop you from fantasizing about a future with him. Getting lost into deep thought, head heavy in the clouds as you imagine the idea of Minho confessing his undying love for you. You’ll be so caught off guard as he gets down on one knee, looking at you with the entire solar system in eyes while he proposes in the most charming way. It really is pitiful how much you still daydream about a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend but would constantly act like he was, then up and leaves without mentioning a single word about it.

You convinced yourself he ran off with someone else to have a better life with, even hearing through town gossip that he’s moved to South Korea to pursue becoming an idol. Whatever the case may be it still weighed heavily on your mind that he never bothered to tell you anything, even a simple ‘goodbye’ would’ve sufficed the empty hole in your heart. The main reason you agreed on meeting up with Minho was to finally ask, why? Why did he pretend to like you? Why did he act like your boyfriend when he never had intentions on seriously dating? Why was he so good at making you fall so hard for him..?

“You look great.” You subconsciously blurt out, affixed in a daze as you stare in awe at the man in front of you.

It’s been a while since you came here— never able to fully bring yourself to try and go back. Though you knew this place first, and they really did have the best Mactha lattes in the universe. It reminded you too much of him and you sadly had to let it go.

You weren’t proud of it but you did go home quickly to change clothes and redo your makeup. Usually you wouldn’t care but this was the only guy you’ve been consistently crushing on for years, you had to feel good inside and out. Minho was just as gorgeous as you remembered, if not he looked even more ethereal — which seemed impossible in itself already. He’s grown up so beautifully, his facial features became more sharp, especially his jawline which looks so defined and sculpted by the Gods.

Minho lightly chuckles at your timidness, some things just never change. “You look way better.” His lips drew into a faint smirk as he admires your presence.

He meant every word of what he said, you looked really good, and it was making him even more frustrated that so much time has passed. Regretting the way he handled things so many years ago, wishing he could take it all back and do everything differently. Seeing you again made it easier for Minho to suppress the guilt he’s borne for so long. This moment feels like a second chance to make amends for his past mistakes.

You couldn’t help but blush when you hear his compliment, feeling your ears grow hot as you look at the ground. There was a silent pause between you that lasted for what seemed like ages. Weirdly enough the conversation flowed well after he finally broke the awkwardness, the chemistry was overall still there and were able to pick up right where it left off.

“I’m so glad you came ___, I’ve been dying to see you since I got here. I’m surprised you even still responded to my lame ass.”

Minho’s light confession puzzles you. If he really was dying to see you, why’d he wait so long to get in contact with you? To be fair, you don’t know the exact time he came back.

“Oh, is that so? When’d you come back? Also show me pics of Korea, I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like there.” You fondly inquire, leaning against the side of the wall as he’s still behind the counter. He mentioned to you he’s only working part time because his parents would rather mooch off their son for free labor than to hire and pay a new employee.

“Yesterday,” he quickly states before taking out his phone to scroll through his gallery, “guess my sister must’ve told you I went there huh?”

You shook your head, “Nah, I haven’t talked to Elle in a while. She’s tried hitting me up a few times though.. but I found out through Areum ‘cause she was seeing Hoseok back then.”

They were definitely “seeing” each other alright, but mostly in the bedroom. Areum didn’t want anything exclusive with Hoseok and neither did he, it was the perfect friends with benefits situation. Minho and Hoseok were good friends who’ve known each other for a while, so naturally he’d tell Areum everything and overshare at some point.

“Agh, there’s a customer gotta take this. One sec, sorry!” He briefly apologizes before bringing his attention to the new person heading inside. You nod, signaling he’s good to go. “I’ll be waiting over there,” you point to a small wooden table with 2 chairs in a corner.

Once Minho comes back you notice he’s no longer wearing his purple work apron; back in his regular attire now and sporting an oversized dark grey hoodie that was three times too big. He was holding a large cup with green liquid and a paper bag in his hand, that’s when it clicks for you— he still remembers your favorite meal.

He’s grinning the whole time he’s handing you the matcha latte and cinnamon pastry, smiling from ear to ear like a kid on Christmas Day. This was the most you’ve seen him be so enthusiastic about something, even back when you were “with” him you can’t recall him beaming with such energy like this.

“Awh, thank you. I haven’t had either one of these in years!” You wanted to give him the biggest hug but you refrained from doing so, feeling as though it may be too early for that.

“Of course dear, anything for you.”

Why does everything he says have to make you melt from the inside out? It’s not fair! >:(

Glancing down at your yummy beverage, you see a message written on the side of the glass with bold permanent sharpie. Tilting your head to read it, the words are bit jumbled together but you get the gist. You’re almost left speechless after it reads: ‘___, Will you be my valentine?’

Your most dreaded and least favorite holiday is here, yippee! But, there’s a twist on this year’s turn of events; you actually have someone to celebrate this wretched tradition with. You should be excited but all you’re feeling is the sudden urge to vomit as you were nervous out of your mind. This was kind of weird to you, going on a date with your ex boyfriend who was never even your real boyfriend. Looking back on it now you shouldn’t have tolerated a relationship dynamic like that, Minho was clearly taking advantage of your passiveness by not explicitly saying what he wanted. On the contrary, you had no one to blame but yourself, you never spoke up or criticized anything even if it didn’t coincide with your personal morals.

The fact he never took you on an actual date until now speaks volumes, you obviously didn’t have enough self worth back to demand better treatment. It took you years of figuring out what a real, healthy relationship is supposed to be like through trials of therapy and that was an emotional rollercoaster in itself. All your uncertainties soon faded away once you became more secure and knew exactly what you wanted for yourself. It took every ounce of patience and acceptance to unlearn all your bad coping mechanisms and other toxic behaviors that were only stunting your inner growth. You’re happy to be in a position now where you’re able to express wholeheartedly what you deserve, it’s the best feeling ever to feel like you’re in control of your own life.

You spent almost 3 hours getting ready and your bedroom now looked like a war zone. The outfit you chose was super girly, a frilly white dress with pink platform heels— Minho’s going to drool in amazement when he sees you. When you sent Areum photos of you before heading out, she responds right way with a series of hearts and other sweet comments— hyping you up to no end like the best friend she is. She’s also able to help pull you out of your doubtful headspace, when you felt unsure if you could really go through with this she quickly psyched you out of it. Reminding you exactly who you are and why you are the prize, not him. ‘He should be the one who’s nervous, not the other way around’ you assure yourself over and over as a mini ego boost.

His jaw dropped when he spotted you walking up to his car, infatuated by how pretty and perfect you looked in every way possible. It angers him so much to know he took all this for granted, he didn’t appreciate all of you the way he should’ve but now he gets another chance to redo everything and right his wrongs. It’s a lot of pressure but he bravely accepts it, he could never mess up another opportunity like this again. The car ride was fairly silent in the beginning, you were vibing in peace as the only thing you could hear was Minho’s soft indie playlist as background music.

You ultimately chose to be the one to speak first, breaking the ice with a simple inquiry about the date. “So where are we going?” Looking out at the scenery from the window, all you is trees and more trees. If it’s something to do with nature you surely don’t want any parts of it, you’ve never been too fond of the wilderness.

“It’s a surprise, I can’t tell you.” He keeps a tight seal on today’s destination without dropping a single hint, forcing you to go completely blind into this. As he goes back to focus on the road, you sigh anxiously after hearing him refuse to disclose anything.

Did he seriously forget what kind of person you are? Anyone who’s close to you at all knows you’ve never been into those types of things. Ever.

“You know I hate surprises Minho,” you remind him, attempting to pry for more information. Even shooting him a doe eyed look along with poking out your bottom lip, but he doesn’t falter.

He simply nods, “I know but you’ll like this one, just have a little bit of faith me.” Flashing an innocent smile at you, he seems to be overly confident in whatever his plan consists of.

After almost half an hour passes the car finally comes to a stop, you scan the area and instantly notice a sense of familiarity among the place. Across from you was an ice cream parlor you thought didn’t exist anymore. But there it is, still standing with dozens of customers waiting in line. The small shop was famously known for its fish-shaped ice cream cones, you’ve always wanted to visit the place and try it when you were a little from seeing it on TV all the time. When you told Minho about it, you said how your parents would say it was too far but it actually closed down and they didn’t know how to tell you. From time to time you’d still think about that place, but you would’ve never thought they relocated. Being here with Minho brings an indescribable amount of happiness to your spirit.

“I mentioned this place like one time in passing, how’d you even remember?” You wonder in amazement, after all these years he still remembers something as minuscule as this.

“It may not have seemed like it but I paid attention to every little detail you told me ___, all it. Of course I know you don’t like surprises but how else would I have been able to take you here?” He sweetly expresses to you, not wanting to hold back anymore.

You wanted to cry right here, right now. All your emotions came crashing down at once and it’s hard to keep them concealed. A lot has changed within these years, things feel so different with him now, especially with how much he’s matured. You notice how he doesn’t act like the typical fuckboy in his early 20’s anymore, he’s much more interested in getting to know only person — that being you.

“I’ve rehearsed this in my head like a million times and I don’t think I’ll ever say it the right way I want but it’s time I start being as transparent as possible with you…” Minho takes a deep breath before continuing, “I’ve always liked you ___, from the start actually,” he keeps going, “I was just scared, of what I don’t know.. Commitment maybe?”

Slightly looking in another direction, your vision faintly blurs from tears welling up, “I- I honestly don’t know what to say..”

“Then don’t say anything at all, I don’t need you to. I may not know the first thing about how to love someone, but I want to learn all of it with you.” He feels all the remorse of leaving you alone for all these years, unable to process the pain you must’ve endured at him not getting into contact with you. “I’m so sorry ___. For everything, I’m going to make it all better I promise.”

Your eyes subconsciously flutter shut when he comes in contact with you. Connecting in perfect symmetry with your lips to sync together in motion. His gentle hands cupped your face delicately; his touch was so warm and inviting. Your fingers were deeply tangled in his brunette locks, relishing every minute as he tilts his head to capture more of you. He genuinely couldn’t believe he went this long without kissing these luscious lips again. His tongue grazed the bottom of your lip to subtly ask for entry and you comply. Dopamine floods both your senses like a series of fireworks going off, feeling intoxicated by each other’s taste. It was probably that vanilla bean chapstick you always wore— an old favorite of his and is still your go-to flavor of choice. He wanted to savor you in this moment for as long as he could, cherish the fact he has you in his hold again.

“Want to know something funny?” He asks out of nowhere, still smirking from that heated kiss that just happened seconds ago.

“Hm?”

“You’re the reason I ended up coming back here.” Minho states bluntly, no hesitation detected in his voice whatsoever.

You struggle to comprehend anything, overwhelmed by all his sudden confessions. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I never want to leave your side ever again ___. I’m staying here with you, I already made the biggest mistake of losing you once I can’t let the same thing happen twice.” He spoke tenderly from the bottom of his heart, it felt so genuine you couldn’t not believe him.

Going back to rewind time isn’t possible, but “do-over’s” are, and sometimes we’re able to get those second chances to make things right when we get them wrong the first time.

[End <3].

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lyn-1225 · 1 year

Text

Tough days

Pairing: Carl Gallagher x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, depression, self harm, anxiety (a little bit), blood, panic attack, sexual reference. I think that’s about it.

Word count: 2000-3000

A/n: I’ve been absolutely obsessed with shameless lately and Carl is my favorite by far. Of course I had to stay up till 2 AM to write this. I’m currently working on a request sent but if you have a request please don’t hesitate to let me know :) enjoy my bad writing.

⚠️ if you are sensitive to topics of mental health please don’t read this. Your safety and mental health is a top priority. ⚠️

This gif of Carl makes me want to scream 😆

——————————————————————

Your POV:

It was known that life wasn’t fair.

It never was and it never would be.

It seemed like I could never catch a break.

Once life actually seemed good, something would come and fuck it up.

This time depression decided to fuck it up.

I’ve always suffered with it, but this time it was different. It was always manageable and short before but now, it was longer and harder to deal with.

The overwhelming fear that I wasn’t good enough and that everyone around me hated me was way stronger than it’s ever been.

Normally reading, writing, painting, or listening to music would help but I was too in my head this time.

I couldn’t get out.

Thought after thought filled my head as I held the small cold razor in my right hand.

It wasn’t the first time unfortunately.

It was some sort of relief. At the time that is.

Small droplets of blood run down my left forearm, the pain allowing for a small relief that I’ve been needing.

That relief is short lived when the thoughts come swarming back to my head.

Oh no not again.

No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t manage to get rid of the nasty thoughts.

Just one more.

One turned into two which then turned into three.

At that point I gave up. Not on life but on that form of relief.

It was only harming me not helping me.

I stand up from the toilet seat washing off the razor and my arm being careful of the fresh cuts.

The sting makes me wince as the water runs over my skin.

I turn the water off heading back to my room to change and hide the razor.

Spotting a grey long sleeve shirt I swap it out for my current t- shirt. Finding a pair of black, pink sweatpants I put them on taking my shorts off beforehand.

The heat from the shirt and pants envelops me making me feel happy.

I was no longer cold due to the weather that somehow only happens at night around here.

Lately things at home haven’t been the best. My parents are almost never home anymore. They never really cared about me in the first place.

I pick up my phone checking the time that shows up in big font.

11:43 PM.

My mind still runs as I check my recent notifications hoping and praying that Carl texted.

He didn’t.

Carl and I have been best friends for years. We met in school of course.

To be honest I have no idea why he wanted to be friends with me. I’m the complete opposite of him.

He doesn’t seem to care though.

Yes he does he thinks you’re annoying that mean voice in my head sneers.

That’s not true.. right?

Those thoughts plague my mind sending me into a whirlwind of emotions. How pathetic am I to be easily persuaded by a single thought in my head?

The panic in my chest starts to rise signaling the worst thing that could be happening right now.

Fuck.

Immediately I find Carl’s contact, pressing the call button.

Placing the phone to my ear with a shaky hand, I try to take deep breaths.

After the fourth ring he picks up.

“Hello?” He says in a groggy voice.

Shit. I woke him up.

“Hi um” I start before stopping my sentence as I feel a lump form in my throat.

“Hey you okay?” Carl asks on the other side picking up on my hesitation.

“I um. I-is it okay if I um. Come over” I stutter pinching my eyes together trying not to break down.

“Yeah of course, I’ll wait for you outside” he says, shuffling being heard from his side of the phone.

“T-thank you” I say starting to head for my front door.

“I’ll be here” he reassures before hanging up.

I place my phone in my pocket opening the front door. Shutting the door behind me I start for the Gallagher house.

It’s probably a good thing I live a few houses down from him.

The dark cold outside fills around me. The cold somehow creeping through my warm clothes.

Walking fast down the sidewalk, the panic in my chest starts to worsen making my head fog up and my heart rate pick up.

Carls figure appears a few houses away. His body sitting on the steps to his house as he looks out at the road the street light illuminating his face just the right way.

Without even realizing it my pace quickens hoping that I wouldn’t start breaking down in the middle of the neighborhood.

As I get closer and closer the tightness in my lungs starts making it harder for me to breathe.

Shit.

Tears sting my eyes when I reach his calm yet slightly worried appearance.

He immediately gets up noticing me standing in front of him.

Without a word he leads me up the stairs and into his warm and cozy home.

Home.

This felt like home.

The tears in my eyes start to fall as the panic attack starts to take control. Normally I’d be able to stop an upcoming attack before it starts but this one was way to strong.

“Shit y/n” Carl whispers shocked at my sudden emotions. He quickly pulls my body towards the couch as tears run down my cheeks.

It was embarrassing to have him see me like this. Even though we’ve been friends for years, I’ve never been the type to express my feelings openly. I’ve never cried in front of him before.

There’s a first for everything right?

He holds my face in his hands, worry lacing over his beautiful features.

Sobs rack through my body as it gets harder and harder to breathe.

“I can’t b-breathe” I hiccup placing a shaky hand on my rapidly beating heart.

Fear starts to push into my mind.

Not the typical fears.

The tightness in my chest and the lack of air going into my lungs was starting to scare me.

Was I dying?

“Look at me” Carl says trying to get my focus on him. His hand taps my leg enough to get my attention but not enough to scare me.

Everything around me starts to spin making it extremely difficult to focus.

“Y/n look at me” he tries again this time moving my head in his direction griping my chin slightly.

My eyes lock with his, my entire body feeling like it’s gonna give out any second. “Follow my breathing” he says moving my hands to his stomach so that I could feel the rhythm of his breathing.

The rise and fall of his stomach underneath my hands calms me the slightest bit. It’s not enough to stop my internal and external freak out though.

He takes a few deep breaths keeping his hands on mine. His eyes hold contact with mine the entire time. Not in a creepy way of course but more in a concerned way.

Inhale

Exhale

I try to do what he’s doing, failing a few times.

Inhale

Exhale

My heart beats a mile per minute, my mind still racing.

Inhale

Exhale

My breathing starts to get better as I follow his lead.

Inhale

Exhale

I open my eyes for what felt like the first time. No more cloudy eyes filled with tears.

Inhale

Exhale

My heart beat starts to slow down the more I match my breathing.

Inhale

Exhale

The panic attack comes to a slow close, my body feeling drained of any stamina it originally had.

That was the worst panic attack I’ve ever had.

“Good” Carl comments making it known to me that he’s relieved that I’m no longer freaking out. Squeezing my hands in his slowly taking them away from his stomach he gives me a small yet sad smile.

I could tell he wanted to ask me about it but I know he didn’t want to push. Considering the fact that this was the first time I’ve cried in front of him, he was smart enough to know that I wouldn’t immediately talk about it.

My mind starts to clear giving me that much needed silence in my head. The silence I only seem to get with him.

I bow my head a few stray tears falling from my eyes.

“I’m sorry” I whisper, the embarrassment starting to show through.

Everything I’ve bottled up has presented itself to the one person I didn’t think would be there to see it.

“Hey, hey” he says lifting my head wiping the tears from my face.

“Don’t ever be sorry for something you can’t control” he frowned looking into my slightly glossy eyes.

His green eyes stare deeply into mine with an emotion I didn’t quite know. His face shows so many emotions that tell me exactly how he feels about the situation. He seems more shocked and worried than anything.

I nod my head silently saying okay even though I was gonna continue saying sorry even in times where I did nothing wrong. That’s just me though.

After a few seconds of us sitting in silence, he reaches over to the coffee table grabbing the remote before turning the tv on. He slightly lays down urging me to lay down as well.

Grateful that he decided to leave it, I lean down next to him making sure I don’t get in his way.

“Want to watch something specific?” He asks turning to me pointing the remote towards me.

“Um. I don’t know” I answer looking down at my arms. My left sleeve had risen to the point where the fresh cuts underneath where showing. I pull my sleeve further down my arm quickly enough to make sure Carl didn’t see.

I was to busy worrying about my sleeve that I didn’t notice the fact that Carl was starting at me the entire time. With him staring at me meant him also starting at my exposed arm.

I didn’t pull my sleeve down fast enough.

He saw my arm before I could even blink.

His expression changed when I turned back towards him. This time he was more sad and discouraged.

“Oh y/n/n” he sighed leaning up so that he was closer to me.

He takes my arms in his hands slowly lifting both my sleeves up.

The right arm only had a few scattered scars from a while ago, but the fresh cuts on my left arm show in full display, a few of them still slightly bleeding.

He runs the tips of his middle and pointer finger around the cuts focusing on the sight in front of him. The small action causes goosebumps to rise on my arms.

“Why?” He questions lightly going over the cuts now. He was hesitant when asking one of the questions that I’ve been dreading since my depression started.

I’ve been hiding my emotions and my thoughts for so long that everything that should be let out is bottling up in my mind.

I trusted Carl with everything in me. I’ve always been scared to share my thoughts in fear that no one would care or they’d say that I’m an attention seeker. All of this comes from past trauma that has kicked my ass in the past and still does now.

It was time for me to tell him. He’s come to me in the worst times of his life crying at my shoulder. It was time to allow myself to do the same.

“I needed a release” I start, clearing the silence in the air.

He looks up at me a mixture of surprise and sadness knowing that I was about to open up about everything going on.

“My mind won’t shut up. I have these overwhelming fears that everyone around me hates me. That you find me annoying. That I’m not good enough” I explain looking at him for his reaction.

“There’s a lot more shit that I still need to talk about but I think for right now this is a good start” I say showing a tight lipped smile.

His eyes soften at my explanation.

“I don’t find you annoying at all. You are the only person I like talking to other than my family” he says moving his hands back down to mine.

“Truth is. I’ve had a crush on you since we met. I just never had the guts to admit it” he says rubbing small circles into my hands.

Relief and delight fills my body at his sudden confession. Relief that he wasn’t judging me for my thoughts and delight because the crush I’ve had on him for years was reciprocated.

I smile at him squeezing his hand “I’ve had a crush on you too.”

A smile graces his face now at my confession. He wraps his arms around my upper body pulling me towards his chest.

I feel myself melt at his touch as the sensation of calm runs through my veins.

I wrap my arms around his neck, my head finding it way to his chest. Our heartbeats quickens a bit at the interaction.

He kisses the top of my head making sure that I know he’s sincere about his confession before pulling back from the embrace.

“Let’s get you cleaned up” he says standing up from the couch. He reaches his hand out to me wanting me to take it.

“Okay” I smile taking his hand, standing up with a little bit of his help.

My body is still shaky which means my legs feel like jelly underneath me. Exhaustion still evident within me.

He leads me to the kitchen taking his hand out from mine when we reach the counter top and the sink.

I clear a spot on the counter before I hop up on it, waving my legs back and forth like a child.

He grabs a cup filling it with water handing it to me.

“Drink this” he demands handing me the cup while trying to sound stern even though he’s gone soft for me.

“Don’t go acting all mean on me now” I chuckle taking a sip of the cool water.

“I’ll be back” he laughs shaking his head at my statement. He walks up the stairs and out of my sight leaving me to sit with my almost clear mind.

I take a few more sips of my drink as I wait for him to get back.

A few minutes later he walks back down the stairs holding a first aid kit.

“Sorry I took so long, I couldn’t find it at first. There’s so much shit in this house that everything I see is lost the next day” he snickers examining the box in his hands.

I laugh as he sets it on the counter to the left of my body. He opens the box searching through the contents to find the things he needed.

He grabs some ointment and some alcohol spray, placing them off to the side. He then grabs bandage wrap placing that to the side as well.

Walking over to the laundry he picks out a dish rag walking it back over to the sink. He runs the water over half the rag making sure that that water is rung out.

“Ready?” He asks moving to my left side.

“Your not doing surgery on me right?” I ask trying my best to sound concerned for my safety.

I laugh a little to try and lighten the mood considering the circumstances i got him involved in.

He laughs as well placing the cold wet rag on my forearm. Focusing on what he’s doing he gently runs the rag along my arm making sure to clean up any blood or dirt that has built up around the cuts.

The more he looks at it the more I can tell it’s starting to affect him. His once smiley face turned serious as time went on.

“Promise me you won’t do this again” he pleads taking his eyes off my arm. He looks up at me with pleading eyes.

“I promise” I say giving him a genuine reassuring look that both me and him need.

It’s hard to make a promise that you don’t know if you’ll keep, but I know that if I do break the promise he would understand. Of course I’m gonna do everything in my power to never do this again.

His eyes light up at my promise making him smile. Seeing him happy about my promise makes me even more determined to not break it.

Using the dry side of the rag he dries up my arm, placing the rag into the sink for someone else in the house to take care of it.

He grabs the spray from off the counter uncapping it and pointing it towards my arm.

“This is gonna sting” he says spraying it onto the fresh cuts. The stinging sensation flows through my arm making me wince slightly.

It wasn’t the worst pain in the world but you could definitely feel it.

He quickly finished up with the spray giving me a sympathetic look as he caps the spray and puts it back onto the counter.

He looks back down at my arm grabbing the ointment unscrewing the lid.

He applies small amounts on my arm before rubbing it over the cuts with a gentle touch I never thought he’d have.

That alone makes my heart flutter.

I stare at him with loving eyes as he cleans his fingers off and grabs the bandage wrap. He starts to wrap my arm with the bandage making sure that it’s tight enough that It won’t fall off but not tight enough for it to cut off my circulation.

“There, all done” he smiles placing everything back into the kit shutting it closed.

I smile before looking down at my bandage wrapped arm. The white wrap goes around almost my entire forearm. The sight makes it look like I belong in a psych ward.

That thought makes me frown knowing what I did to myself.

I didn’t deserve that.

He didn’t deserve that.

“Hey” Carl says gaining my attention. I look up in his direction as he moves in between my legs.

“It’s okay” he says placing his hands on my hips. He looks at me with soft eyes.

The tears in my eyes start to fall down my face again. I quickly wipe them away trying to make it seem like I wasn’t just crying in front of him.

Carl takes my face in his hands rubbing my cheeks with each of his thumbs. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you can’t open up to me” he says keeping his eyes trained on mine.

“I know you don’t like talking about your feelings but it’s obvious whatever’s going on is hurting you. I don’t want you feeling hurt” he whispers the last part tears of his own starting to form.

“Carl please don’t cry” I say lifting my hands to his face so that I could wipe underneath his eyes. He moves his hands from my face down to my hips again lightly squeezing the fat that is there.

“Things at home haven’t been the greatest” I start about to tell my whole life story to him.

He stares at me intently urging me to continue my words as he rubs my hip bones with his thumbs.

“My parents were never around. I practically raised myself my entire life. Anytime they were home they would constantly yell at each other” I say looking at him then looking around the room.

“I’ve been dealing with depression and anxiety ever since I was 9 or 10” I confess. His eyebrows furrow at the age I said. That was a year or so before me and him met.

“It hasn’t been to bad to deal with. I can deal with it on my own, but this time it was worse” I bow my head feeling slightly ashamed at the fact that I couldn’t control it.

“I didn’t think I could go through this one alone so I came here” i finish as I look around the house. The safe proximity helping me feel okay.

I look back to him waiting to hear a response. He looks at me with big eyes and a small sad smile.

Out of nowhere he leans his head forward capturing my lips in a passionate and sweet kiss.

The kiss is soft and filled with the emotions running through his head.

My stomach explodes with butterflies, our lips move in sync with each other.

He keeps his hands on my hips this time squeezing them a little bit more than before.

A little out of breath we pull away our foreheads leaning against each other.

“Im so sorry if I gave you a reason to not trust me with everything you’ve gone through” he whispers to me touching his nose to mine.

“Carl” I start looking into his eyes. “Please don’t let yourself think that I don’t trust you. I trust you more than I trust anyone else in my life” I say.

“From now on I will talk to you anytime something happens. I won’t bottle things up anymore” I promise him taking my forehead away from his.

He smiles at me before wrapping his arms around my shoulders while mine wrap around his waist.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to kiss you” he chuckles resting his head on top of mine.

“Trust me. Me too” I smile leaning my head up to kiss the side of his jaw. He looks down at me a huge smile crossing his face.

“This definitely isn’t the right time but is it wrong for me to say that you kissing my jaw is a huge turn on” he says pulling away from our hug.

“Oh really” I smirk purposefully moving my hands to his waist so that I could pull him closer.

“Want me to prove it” he asks maneuvering his hands along my thighs dangerously close to where he wanted to be the most.

I would be lying if I said this wasn’t turning me on as well but instead of giving in I decided to be a tease.

“Nah I’m good thanks though” I say nonchalantly jumping down from the counter grabbing my glass that previously had water in it.

“You son of a bitch” Carl says looking at me as if I spit at him. Putting my glass under the faucet I turn it on filling the glass back up with water.

I point my left middle finger at him while I take a large sip of the water.

He looks at me in disbelief his eyes slightly wide.

I’ve never been like this before but I guess now I’m gonna show every part of me that he never knew.

“So that’s how you want to play huh?” He asks moving closer to me. He has a smug look on his face like he’s about to pounce at any moment.

“Don’t you dare” I say placing my glass down before backing away from him slowly.

He continues moving forward trapping me in the corner of the sink and the refrigerator.

Suddenly running towards me he picks me up making me squeal.

I wrap my legs around his waist while my arms wrap around his neck trying to make sure I don’t fall.

He laughs placing his hands around my back. He spins me around in a circle keeping a strong grip around me.

“I like this position” he comments earning a slap to the side of the head from me. “Stop it” I laugh wrapping my arms around his neck again.

He walks us to the living room lightly throwing me down onto the couch before landing on top of me.

He leans up to place a short kiss to my lips before turning the tv back on to a random channel.

He switches through a few channels before giving up. There wasn’t anything good on since it was practically the middle of the night.

It was some sort of animal channel but we didn’t care.

We only cared about each other.

He cuddled up to my chest pulling my sleeves back down my arms to my hands knowing it was annoying me.

I play with his hair as both of us start to loose touch of reality and start to blink back sleep.

Tonight’s actions run through my head one last time before I fall asleep with him cuddled up to me.

I hope every day includes special moments like what we had tonight.

——————————————————————

A/n: Every imagine I see they say Carl has blue eyes. When I looked it up on google it said that he had green eyes. So that’s what I went with. Hope you liked the imagine :) I had a great time writing it.

#carl gallagher #imagine #carl gallagher x reader #shameless #mental health #sh trigger warning #fluff

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onceuponastory · 10 months

Text

a perfect fit - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: After fleeing the Royal Ball, Y/N knew she had no chance of ever seeing the Prince again. But Prince Bucky is determined to find her. Pairing: Prince!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of abuse and violence, blood, being cut by glass, Y/N’s stepfamily belittling and degrading her, Y/N doubting herself, and her parents dying. Also the cheesy fairytale love at first sight tropes and all that good stuff I love so much, hahaha. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: This is part two of my Cinderella AU, because I’m a sucker for a happy ending... and writing PrinceCharming!Bucky, as it turns out. You can read part one here if you haven’t already.

Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

When she awakens the next morning, for a moment Y/N thinks the night before was little more than a dream. It’s only when she sees the glass slipper beside her bed, shining in the early morning light, that she remembers how real it all was. The memories come flooding back. She really did dance with Prince Bucky, and spent the whole night with him. Unfortunately, now she has to go back to her regular life. But that doesn’t mean she can’t hold onto the memories a little while longer. After hiding the slipper, she soon busies herself making breakfast for her stepfamily, whilst pretending like nothing happened at all.

Inside, though, she’s so happy that she wants to burst.

“Good morning.” She smiles, placing down each plate and teacup in front of her stepmother and stepsisters. “How was the ball?” She asks, trying to hide her grin. All she can think of is Prince Bucky, and the warmth of his smile. The way he looked at her still makes her heart beat that much faster.

“It was awful.” One of her stepsisters huffs, and Y/N raises a brow.

“Really? How so? You were dressed so beautifully. I thought Prince James would’ve been enthralled by you.” It still feels odd to call him Prince James, rather than Bucky. In the few hours they spent together, the pair really connected, as if they were close friends. But that only reminds Y/N of how she’s never going to see him again.

“Prince James didn’t even look at us! Some other princess caught his attention, and he spent the WHOLE NIGHT WITH HER!” she whines.

“And then she just ran away from him!” The other gasps. “Imagine running away from Prince James! She doesn’t even know how lucky she was!” As her stepsisters continue to wail about how unfair everything is, Y/N nods along, feigning shock. Although, all she wants to do is laugh. Her stepmother and stepsisters have tormented her for so long, yet they couldn’t even remember what she looks like, too ignorant to realise it was her that Prince Bucky wanted. The mystery princess they’re talking about is right under their noses.

“Didn’t you hear? She left one of her shoes behind. The Prince is searching for her now.” When she hears that, Y/N almost drops the plate she’s holding in shock. He’s looking for her. Maybe she has a chance after all. A part of her wants to tell the three of them the truth right there and then and rush out to find Bucky. But she can’t. Not now. She has to wait for the opportunity to present itself. But she can’t stop a little happiness from peeking through. As her stepfamily eats, Y/N refills their tea and fetches more food for them, humming a happy tune to herself.

“You seem rather… happy this morning.” Her stepmother frowns. “More so than usual, anyway.”

“Do I, stepmother? I hadn’t noticed. I suppose it’s just such a wonderful sunny day that I guess I’m in a sunny mood.” She chuckles, paying no mind to her words. Yet, it’s enough to get her stepmother thinking. The tune Y/N is humming seems so familiar, and she’s never seen her so happy before. Something must have happened whilst they were gone.

“How about you? What did you do while we were gone?” For a moment, Y/N’s eyes widen slightly, only adding to her stepmother’s suspicion.

“Well, I finished my chores and then… I read my book for a while before bed. Nothing too exciting.” Y/N replies. Yet, her stepmother remains unconvinced. She knows she’s hiding something, she just doesn’t know how to prove it.

But she’ll find out what it is. One way or another.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When she finally has a free moment, Y/N rushes back upstairs, ready to think about the night before. She closes the door, finally letting out a small, happy squeal.

“I believe this is yours, isn’t it?” A voice speaks from behind her, the sudden noise making her jump. When Y/N turns, she sees her stepmother standing there. As soon as she sees what she’s holding, Y/N’s stomach drops. Gripped tightly in her stepmother’s hands… is her remaining glass slipper. “Imagine that. A glass slipper. Just like the one belonging to the mystery girl Prince James is so desperately looking for.” She gets up, stalking towards Y/N. “And yet, I found it in my stepdaughter’s bedroom. When she was under explicit instructions not to attend the ball.” The entire time, her voice remains eerily calm and monotone. With each step she takes, getting closer and closer to her each time, Y/N’s heart pounds so strongly it could break through her ribcage. “It is yours, isn’t it?” She hisses, and Y/N nods, deciding it would be best to accept whatever’s coming her way than to lie.

“Yes, it’s mine. And Prince Bucky’s looking for me now.”

“Oh, Prince Bucky, is it?” Her stepmother scoffs. “Searching for you or not, do you really think he’d want you when he realises what you truly are? Just a pitiful, lonely and dirty servant girl with no money or dowry to her name?” Her words register something deep within Y/N. The same shame she felt when she fled the ball. When she ran from the kindest man she ever met, and the best chance she ever had. Y/N’s stomach twists, and she registers tears pricking at her eyes. Yet, she remains strong.

“I cannot trust that he will want me. But that is my slipper, and you said yourself that he’s looking for me. I still deserve the chance to win his hand.”

“Very well. How about a deal?” Her stepmother suggests, and Y/N raises a brow. “When the Prince arrives, we tell him the truth. And I’ll help support you in your new role and life.” Y/N listens intently, waiting for the catch. She’s been living here for long enough that she knows better than to trust her stepmother. “But of course, I’ll need to help your new husband too, no doubt. After all, he’s foolish enough to want you as his wife. So you will make me your royal advisor. All decisions go through me. Deal?”

“No.” The word causes Y/N’s stepmother to blink in surprise for a moment. Quickly, she regains her composure, yet her brows remain furrowed in confusion.

“I’m sorry?”

“No.” Y/N repeats. “I want the Prince to find me more than anything… but not with your ‘help’. He is the most wonderful person I have ever met, and I refuse to let you treat him as cruelly as you treat me. So.” She takes a breath. Despite the courage flowing through her veins, she can already feel the sick taste of regret, and the worry that she’s throwing her last chance away is beginning to build. But she’d rather be stuck here for the rest of her life if it meant Bucky and the others in the kingdom were safe. “My answer is no.”

She expects her stepmother to start sputtering or yelling, to call her all the names she’s accustomed to hearing by this point. Because that’s what she always does. But that’s not what happens. Instead, her stepmother simply stands up straighter and walks towards her, completely silent. With each step she takes, Y/N feels her heart pounding faster and louder. She considers running, but she can’t even take a step. She’s frozen, waiting for what’s coming.

“You ungrateful brat.” Her stepmother hisses, finally reaching her. As she backs Y/N up against the wall, she towers over her. Despite the stones digging into her back, Y/N stands firm, showing her stepmother that she isn't scared of her anymore. “After your fool of a father died and left us with next to nothing, I made sure you still had a home! And when I ask for something in return, for a moment of thanks, you throw it back in my face.”

“Don’t speak about my father like that!” Y/N demands. “He may not have had a lot, but he still loved me. He loved us. All you have done is treat me awfully. I have nothing to thank you for.” A harsh slap suddenly hits her cheek, stunning Y/N into silence for a moment. Her stepmother has only ever called her cruel names, and treated her like a servant. She’s never hit her before.

“How dare you disobey me! What on earth makes you think that a servant girl like you deserves this over my daughters?!” Her stepmother hisses, her breath hot against Y/N’s cheek.

“Because that is my slipper. I am the one who danced with him.” Y/N repeats. Fully aware of the potential consequences, she looks her stepmother right in the face once more. “It proves that I’m the one he is looking for. He wants me.” Suddenly, her stepmother smirks, standing up a little straighter.

“Oh yes. So it is.”

And without another word, she raises the slipper into the air, and then smashes it against the wall. When the slipper hits the wall, it shatters, spraying glass everywhere. Although, the sound of Y/N’s cry blocks most of it out. She sinks to the floor, desperately trying to salvage what pieces she can before her stepmother can crunch them under her heel. Her vision blurred by tears, Y/N registers pieces of glass slicing into her palm and fingers, but she doesn’t care. She has to get these to show Bucky the truth. That it was her he danced with all night. Although she already feels like it’s hopeless. These are simply just smashed pieces of glass… they mean nothing. Especially not that they used to be a glass slipper. As the last shred of her hopes and dreams fade, Y/N sniffles, breaking down in silent tears.

“Clean this up.” Her stepmother orders, her voice back to the scarily calm, monotonous tone from only a few minutes ago. “And do not fill your head with such ridiculous fantasies again.” Then she slams the door shut, the sound ricocheting across the room. Y/N jumps up, ready to run out of the room after her, to fight for her future, her and Bucky’s future.

“Let me out! Please!” She begs, pounding on the door and trying to pull it open. But it doesn’t budge. Her stepmother must have locked it, trapping her inside. Her chance to get out of here is just as shattered as her glass slipper. Breaking down in tears, Y/N sinks to the floor once more, too tired to fight it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Still no luck finding the mystery woman, Your Highness.” The Captain informs Prince Bucky, and he sighs.

“How many houses are left?”

“Just one.” Bucky nods. Although he still has some hope left that they will find his mystery princess, he’s been losing hope with every failed house search there is. He glances down at the slipper.

“Let’s hope the last house gives us some more luck, then.” Mounting his horse once more, they set off.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sometime later, Y/N sits up, her body aching from laying on the cold and wooden attic floor. Her cheek throbs from where her stepmother slapped her, and her eyes are red and raw from crying. She doesn’t even know how long it’s been since her stepmother locked her in here. Bucky could’ve been and gone already. As the beams from the setting sun fill the room, the shards of her glass slipper sparkle, a cruel reminder of the happy ending she could’ve had. Now, it’s just as shattered as her slipper.

Y/N goes to the window, hoping that the sunset will at least cheer her up. As she gazes out of the window, she suddenly notices something. Men atop horses. She has no idea exactly how many, but there must be at least thirty. And they’re all outside the house. Y/N’s up too high to see everything clearly, but she recognises the deep blue of their uniforms.

It’s the Royal Guard. They’re here. She’s not too late. She still has a chance.

But how is she going to get their attention? Her stepmother locked her in, and she’s not strong enough to pull open the door or to break it down. She could try screaming or stomping her feet to prove someone is upstairs, but her stepmother would probably find her before they did. Y/N paces the room anxiously, muttering to herself, trying to think of a way to get their attention.

And then, something crunches under her foot. Glass. And then, she knows what she has to do. The walls of this attic room have been falling apart for decades, leaving stone pieces scattered around the room. If she breaks the window, she could alert them that way. Quickly, she grabs the biggest piece of stone that she can, rushing back to the window. Of course, hitting a member of the Royal Guard with a stone or raining broken glass down on them is not ideal, but it’s her only hope to get their attention. Bracing herself, Y/N raises her hand… and throws the stone at the window.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Thank you again for your time, ma’am.” The Captain nods.

“Of course.” Y/N’s stepmother replies. “I am sorry that your search wasn’t successful.” She smirks. Even if her daughters don’t get to marry the Prince, the fact that Y/N won’t either is more than enough solace for her.

Bucky walks back to his horse, unable to hide his disappointment. Maybe he’s destined never to find his mystery girl again.

“Wait! Stop!” a distant voice calls, stopping him in his tracks. “I’m up here! Wait!” The words send a jolt of hope through his body. Immediately, he turns around, marching back towards the house.

“Ma’am. You said there were no other eligible women in your household aside from your daughters, did you not?” Her eyes widen, and she stammers.

“Well, there’s only my stepdaughter, but it can’t be her, she’s just a servant girl, nobody important.” Bucky hates the way she talks about her stepdaughter, as if she’s not a valid member of this household because she’s not related to her by blood. He remembers the mystery woman’s apprehension, and how afraid she was to let him help. And things suddenly make sense. If someone who speaks so terribly about her is 'taking care' of her, it's no surprise she didn't want him too close. Although, this only spurs on his desire to find and help her.

“Her status does not matter. What matters is you lied to the Royal Guard, and to your Prince.” He states. “Now, let us pass.” He orders.

Upstairs, Y/N nervously wrings her hands. Ever since she broke the window, she’s been waiting for her stepmother to burst into the room and punish her. She’s spent the last few minutes trying to think of an explanation that will save herself, but her brain has turned up empty each time. And that’s why she’s also considering making a break for it. When she registers the sound of the key in the lock turning, she sighs.

“Stepmother, I just wanted-”

“Hello again.” Prince Bucky smiles. Y/N gasps. As the fear leaves her body, she takes an enormous sigh of relief. It feels like an immense weight has just been lifted off her shoulders.

“Am I dreaming?” She asks, and he chuckles.

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” He steps closer, taking in every inch of her. “It is you.” He whispers, still grinning. And something deep in Y/N’s stomach flutters. Suddenly, he notices the mark on her cheek. Immediately, his face hardens. “Who did this to you?”

“It was my stepmother. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth, I was afraid she’d find me, and-” He takes her hand, cutting her off. He grips it tightly and protectively.

“There is no need to apologise, my love. She will never hurt you ever again. She won’t even be allowed near you again. You have my word.” Y/N nods. Even now, when he holds her hand, she can feel the same care and love from the night before. “Now. If you’ll allow me, my lady…” Bucky smiles. He holds out the remaining glass slipper, ready to slip it onto her foot. But first, Y/N knows she has to tell him the truth.

“Prince Bucky, my name is Y/N. I’m not a Princess, or a noblewoman. I’m more of a servant than anything. In fact, that’s why my stepfamily calls me Cinderella. I don’t have any family, or dowry I can offer. Even though I am the person who danced with you at the ball… I still don’t know what will happen once that slipper fits, or if you’ll even want me afterwards.” She can feel tears rolling down her cheeks, but she doesn’t stop. “But I love you. And I hope you will take me as I am.”

Bucky smiles, gazing at her like she hung the moon. “Of course I will. I don’t care about your title or what dowry you can bring. All I care about is the person behind it. And I love you… Y/N.” He whispers her name, almost as if he still cannot believe he finally gets to know it, or that he’s finally found her. Her name leaving his lips sounds so sweet, so loving. It’s been so long since she heard anyone say her name, let alone with no hostility in it. For the first time in a long time, she feels loved. “Now. Despite knowing the truth, every maiden in the kingdom has to try this slipper. Prince’s orders.” He reminds her, and she giggles.

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Y/N slips her boot off, and Bucky slides the slipper onto her foot. “It’s a perfect fit.” He beams. He takes her hand, running his thumb along her knuckles. “My princess.” He whispers.

Slowly, he leans in closer, tilting his head towards hers, and Y/N rises to meet it. The kiss is soft, yet passionate. In fact, it’s everything she could’ve dreamt of. He holds her in his arms again, keeping her safe from everything in the world. Soon, Bucky leads her downstairs, keeping a tight, protective grasp on her hand.

“In a way, I’m going to miss this place. Well, I enjoyed living here when it was just my parents and I.”

“Don’t worry, my love.” His nickname for her makes her smile, light heat settling on her cheeks. It’s a nice change from Cinderella. “We’ll both make sure nothing happens to it, and you can come visit whenever you want. I’m sure your stepfamily won’t be here for much longer.”

“And if they do stay?” Bucky chuckles.

“Trust me. My guards and I will make sure they don’t.” Y/N smiles, squeezing his hand.

“Thank you.”

When they reach the bottom of the stairs, her stepmother stands there, flanked by two guards. Reflexively, Y/N tenses. “It’s alright.” Bucky soothes. “I won’t let her hurt you ever again.” As they pass by her, Y/N can feel her stepmother’s glare burning through. As she begins to panic, Y/N registers Bucky squeezing her hand once more. Keeping her head held high, Y/N and Prince Bucky walk through the door, ready to start their new life.

Together.

The End.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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soberrsoon · 10 months

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Can you do a fic about Bill or Tom (doesn’t matter who because atp I can’t decide whether I’m a Bill girl or a Tom girl 😭) where both him and reader have been dreaming of eachother, but they’ve never met like ever. Like randomly they started having dreams of eachother, but the catch is, they’ve been dreaming WITH eachother. Then maybe one day they see eachother irl and both are in shock to find out that they’ve been dreaming with eachother

(Sorry if this doesn’t make sense 😭)

T. KAULITZ x READER

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you haven’t gotten much sleep lately since you’ve been dreaming about a mysterious boy.

★ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: alcohol, swearing

★ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: LOL i am definitely a tom girl but anyways sorry i’ve been busy y’all 😻 i have to do band stuff (yes im in band) speaking of which though… band camp is starting soon so im gonna be really busy unfortunately 😭 but send reqs and i’ll try to write as much as i can and get a lot posted before i leave and i also try to post during it as well!! ALSOOOO my birthday is tomorrow yippee 🥳

you haven’t been able to sleep much recently, not ever since a mysterious bit appeared in your dreams. it was strange since you’ve never seen him before but you weren’t complaining since damn he was hot. your dreams with the boy were all very vivid, almost like they were real and you feel in control in those dreams, like it’s real life. you and the mysterious boy never speak in the dreams, usually you two would just enjoy each others company, amused by one another.

you wondered if that boy was real person dreaming just like you.

before you could overthink it though, you got up to get ready. you brushed you teeth, got changed and started making breakfast. you placed your food on the kitchen table before taking a seat and calling your friend liz. “can i come over later?” you asked her through the phone. “sure. i’m just picking breakfast right now, want some?” she asked. you looked down at your plate, deciding whether to eat at your place or abbi’s. “i’ll have some, see you later,” you said.

you packed your breakfast up put it in the fridge, making your way out the door to abbi’s house. since her place wasn’t that far, you would always walk over which took less that 15 minutes. when you finally got to her house, you decided to tell her all about your dreams with the mysterious hot boy. “okay so like the dreams are super vivid, but they’re just dreams,” you explained. “and the boy? do you know him?” she asked. “that’s the thing! i don’t know him, he’s like super mysterious,” you replied.

“well what does he look like?” she asked. you though about it entire giving your response. “well he has like dreadlocks, he wears baggy clothes and he has a lip piercing right here,” you explained, pointing to your lip. “he sounds totally hot,” abbi said sarcastically. “ugh you don’t get, i wud you could see him because he is totally hot,” you said. “yeah whatever,” she said.

you guys continued eating your food before abbi started talking. “do you wanna go out tonight?” she asked. “i don’t know… i’m not really i’m the mood,” you replied. “well maybe you’ll find your dream boy,” she said. “oh you’re right, fine i’ll go but you’re paying for first round of shots,” you said laughing as abbi rolled her eyes. you guys decided to go out to run some errands before going back to your place to get ready.

you guys first went to the post office since abbi had to mail something. you waited outside since she’d be awhile and as you waited you noticed someone that caught your eye. it was a boy who looked exactly the one in your dreams but… different? you thought. this boy had spiky black hair instead of dirty blonde dreadlocks. he was inside a gift shop across from the post office. you quickly rushed into the post office to grab abbi’s attention.

“abbi! look! across the street, that boy with black hair, do you see him?” you asked. “yeah…? what’s wrong with him?” she asked. “he looks exactly like the boy in my dreams,” you said. abbi didn’t speak for a second. “wow, i’m sorry i doubted you then, that boy is hot,” she said. “i know right?!” you replied. “well what are you going to do?” she asked. “nothing i guess, i mean what can i do?” you replied. “you’re right, let’s just go back to your place now,” she replied.

you two took a taxi back to yours since it would’ve been a 30 minute walk. “maybe we will fine your dream boy tonight, i mean we basically saw his twin today,” abbi said. “maybe,” you replied, focused on your mascara. abbi was curling her hair and you were doing your makeup as you waited for her to finish. you two switched before both finishing. “you done?” she asked. “almost,” you said, putting your hoop earring in. “okay! now i’m done,”

you guys took get another taxi to the club for a night out, hoping to find your dream boy or at least get drunk. the club was packed today, it’s not like it was the weekend so you weren’t sure why. as you two walked in you could tell the club was filed with girls, all in a crowd surrounding someone. you and abbi tried looking to see who it was but couldn’t push through the other girls. “is there a celebrity or something?” abbi asked. “i don’t know but let’s just go to the bar,” you replied. as you two left the crowd, you didn’t realize a pair of eyes following you.

you ordered your drink along with abbi and you guys started talking as you waited. “look around, do you see him?” you asked abbi. “i can’t tell this club is filled with girls,” she said. “yeah i wonder what that’s about,” you said as you looked at the crowd. your drinks arrived and you two started drinking, you both got shots. even though abbi could not hold alcohol she always insists on drinking and she was already drunk after her third shot.

she decided to walk around now, searching for a hookup and you decided to follow her. she laid eyes on a boy with curly brown hair and started making a move, you decided to leave her and go sit on a sofa. you sat around awkwardly now not knowing what to do until you locked eyes with familiar face. you couldn’t believe what you were seeing, it was the boy from your dreams. he had the dreadlocks and everything and he looked shocked to see you as well. you didn’t know if you should approach him or just leave it because what if he thinks you’re crazy?

you convinced yourself that you were seeing things and that the alcohol was kicking in so you went to the nearest bathroom you could find. you splashed your face with water before getting your phone out to text abbi about the encounter. you then prepared yourself and walked out.

“hey,” you heard a male voice call from behind you as you slowly turned around. “hello?” you asked. it was the same boy you saw a few minutes ago. “this may sound weird but i’ve been seeing you in my dreams lately and i haven’t been able to sleep. i knew i had to approach y since this was such a coincidence,” he said and you were surprised that he was dreaming about you as well. “wow, oh my gosh. i’ve been dreaming about you too, i wasn’t sure you were real when i saw you but i haven’t been able to sleep recently either,” you replied.

“let me buy you a drink,” he said. you nodded and followed him to the bar. you guys got to talking more and you both realized you’ve been dreaming about the same thing. “do you think we’ve been dreaming together? i mean my dreams feel pretty vivid,” you said. “surprisingly this makes sense,” he replied. you guys instantly clicked after that. you found out that his name was tom and you told him about your encounter with his “look-a-like” which you now know as his twin bill.

once you both left the bar you started texting instead and of course you had to tell abbi all about it.

#no proofreading we die like men #tokio hotel #fan fiction #tom kaulitz fanfic #tom kaulitz x reader

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where-theres-smoak-2 · 1 year

Text

Ok I am in rant mode again, sorry, this blog just happens to be a place where I dump all my thoughts negative and positive both, unfortunately for all who follow me. But I have seen some bad and incorrect takes from anti darkling/darklinas. So here’s just a few things I want to say.

Firstly LB has never stated that she based the darkling on her ab*sive ex. This is misinformation that was spread by antis. The only thing she has ever said about an ab*sive relationship was that she wrote the first book, Shadow and Bone, at a dark time in her life right after she had got out of a bad relationship. She has said in the past that the darkling was inspired by every bad boy she’s had a crush on in fiction including david bowie’s the goblin king.

So it seems from these comments like the character was supposed to emulate those types of characters that woman find attractive, the ones you would fall for.

I’ve also seen the argument that LB clearly wrote the darkling as a villain, well LB might disagree with you there as she herself has said on multiple occasions that she doesn’t write villains:

LB says that the darkling believes he is doing the right thing and that ‘you can make a case for most of the choices he makes, even the despicable ones.’ So if LB says that she doesn’t write villains and that you can make a case for his actions you can’t really blame darkling fans for doing the same.

The truth is LB promoted the heck out of both the darkling and darklina (or as it was known back then Darlina and Alarkling) when she was writing the og trilogy, even admitting to ‘fanning the flames’ when talking about people shipping m*lina and darklina and was clearly encouraging the shipping of both ships:

She also put out teases for the darkling and darklina:

And promoted darklina fan edits even using the ship tags:

It was only post the release of book three that she changed her tune, likely because of all the backlash she got about the ending of the books. So no LB wasn’t always against fans shipping darklina or liking the darkling. All of this information is easily found with a simple google search, I wasn’t even in the fandom back then being a show watcher first and yet I was still able to learn all of this with minimal difficulty.

Which brings me to the whole darklina being an allegory for a older man manipulating a younger girl and how the darklina fans ‘missed this’. Well if they did miss it then it was for a very good reason, but the truth is darklina’s didn’t miss it, we just didn’t think it made sense within the narrative, the darklina fandom have talked about it, myself included, in fact I’ve already posted a whole pretty much essay on the topic. But let me explain why some people may have ‘missed it’ and why it doesn’t work in the story or with darklina as the allegory. The first is because LB chose to use an immortal/immortal couple for this allegory. The thing with immortality in fiction, especially as love interests, is it makes age pretty much meaningless. The whole point of immortals is that they are ageless. Immortal ships have always been accepted within fiction and this whole age gap issue has never come up before. Nobody was going omg but the age gap yuck with Bella and Edward when twilight came out, or when Magnus and Alec got together in Shadowhunters or with any of the ships in Vampire Diaries. Yet now anti’s are trying to use the argument that the darkling is 100s of years older than Alina and that’s creepy all of a sudden. Sorry but not in my book, an immortal is always going to be significantly older than anyone else what’s the alternative they spend eternity alone, never knowing love? At least with darklina they are both immortal. Another reason why it doesn’t work is because of how the darkling is described in the book, he is said to not look much older than Alina, so in the books he looks like a teenager. So of course people weren’t going to pick up on the older guy/younger girl allegory because the darkling isn’t presented in the books as an older guy. He’s described the same way every other immortal being in every YA book at that time was. It’s also worth noting that I am not sure if LB ever actually said that darklina were supposed to represent a older guy with a younger girl or whether that was something the fandom came up with. I’m not saying she didn’t just that I myself have never seen a direct quote from her that I recall and I wasn’t able to find one. I think the first time I heard of it was when someone sent me an ask about the topic. I know that she has said it was meant to serve as a warning of attractive and charismatic men being able to manipulate young girls but I don’t know that she herself has ever talked about an age gap or specifically mentioned older men?

Another thing that I have been seeing alot of are comments like darkling/darklina fans only like him because he is hot. What bothers me about this is firstly even if that were true and the only reason people liked him was because he is hot, so what? There’s nothing wrong with that, its fiction and fiction is used to escape for a bit, its for enjoyment and entertainment, so if that enjoyment and entertainment comes in the form of staring at the hot guy irregardless of whether they are the hero or villain, let them be. Why are you criticising the way someone enjoys fiction? Sometimes a gal just wants to look at the hot guy. Secondly its just a really irrelevant argument because the darkling is not the only hot, charismatic character in the books or show. M*l is also described as being attractive and charismatic with no shortage of friends and girls, Nikolai is another character that fits that description, so by this argument the only reason M*l fans like him is because he is hot, and the only reason Nikolai fans like him is because he is hot. Thirdly its just plainly not true, whilst I am sure there may be some fans who only like him because he is hot, again nothing wrong with that, most fans like him for a variety of different reasons because he is an interesting and complicated character. As someone who spends a fair bit of time in the darkling/darklina tags the most common reason I have seen for fans liking him is because of his dedication to the grisha, his willingness to fight for the grisha something that he has dedicated 100′s of years of his life too. Personally I like Aleksander/the darkling because he has a sympathetic backstory, because he is fighting for the grisha and when seeing that they had no place to go where they could be free from fear he vowed to make them a safe place, a sanctuary, of course I am going to root for that goal too. I like him because he is complicated and complex and despite being an immortal being who has become deeply effected by past traumas there is still something beautifully human about him, particularly in the show. I also like the connection he has with Alina, the whole yin/yang of it and them being each others balance. I love the complexity and angst of them having this deep connection and pull to each other but also having this anger and sense of betrayal, how they have to try and navigate around having different points of view and seeing the world in a different ways, it makes for a very compelling story and their chemistry in the show is electric. The fact that he is hot is merely a bonus, but even if he wasn’t a conventionally attractive person I would still like his character because of those complexities, because of that connection he has with Alina. But one thing this rant has done is make me curious as to what my other fellow darkling/darklina fans like about the darkling? What drew you to the character? Anyway that’s enough ranting for one day, again my apologies, I am going to go and rewatch season 1 of shadow and bone in preparation for season 2′s release tomorrow...sheepishly shuffles off my soapbox, waving awkwardly.

#darklina #the darkling #anti leigh bardugo

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punkeccentricenigma · 7 months

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Hello, I saw your requests are open. So I decided to send something.

Could you write a few headcanons for the rise boys with a reader that’s from another country. And could you leave it open from where? And reader has a different native language, English would be their second language. It would be kinda funny if the turtles (or one of them) doesn’t realize reader is a foreigner at first.

I‘m not from the USA and would love to see something with a foreign reader.

Thank you and have a nice rest of your day. :3

Rise!Boys with Reader from different country

Relationship status: platonic/romantic

Reader prounouns: They/Them

TW: Some grammatical errors because english is not my first language.

Author's note: I apologize for the long wait for this order; a lot has happened in my life. Not only did many of my childhood idols turn out to be bad people, but also my mom told me to leave home after we argued, and I poured out all my grievances to her. So, well, soon I probably won't have a place to live because my savings are too small to even rent a room. Plus, my mom took away all my painkillers, and the migraines haven't disappeared, so I'm in pain all the time.

But on the bright side, with the help of my friend, I managed to create a CV, and tomorrow I'm going to submit it to a company where I can work :D Unfortunately, I'll have to wait over a month for the tests, but it will be the first step in overcoming my fear of people.

But anyway, thank you anon, have a nice day/night too!! :D

Leonardo

◇Do I really have to state the obvious as if it weren't clear? Leo is a goof; not a single thought crossed his mind that you might be even more different than him.

◇Even if April dropped subtle hints about your nationality, it just didn't register. Comics with Jupiter Jim are too captivating for him to bother with trivial facts.

◇It only hit him when your phone rang during a shared skateboarding session. When you answered and started speaking in your language, the guy literally had a Pikachu's surprised face.

◇After that, brace yourself for a million questions from the curious turtle. You'll be happy to answer.

◇Leonardo has a knack for learning languages, even if it's just basic words.

◇Thanks to Sr Hueso in his life, he's picking up Spanish. So, what's stopping him from learning your language too?

◇Btw, praise him every time he says something right; he needs that.

◇He'll also be eager to learn about cultural differences between you two. You might not seem very different, but a deeper look might reveal significant distinctions.

◇Ohohoho! National costumes? He'd gladly try them on.

◇But expect him to tease you by intentionally mispronouncing a few words or judging you based on stereotypes about people from your country.

◇If it makes you cry or get angry, he'll make sure never to do it again.

◇He likes food from your country but more as an occasional thing. If he could, he'd probably just eat pizza all the time.

Raphael

◇Raph, despite not being as dumb as Leo, suspected from the start that something was up with you that you hadn't mentioned.

◇But it never occurred to him to ask.

◇He ultimately found out from his father. Indirect, but still.

Raphael sighed throatily, rummaging through his kitchen cabinets. Your ears lightly twitched at each muffled or not-so-muffled clatter of things in those cabinets.

"What are you looking for?" Their voice carried both curiosity and a hint of irritation as she added more pepperoni slices to the light pizza dough. The turtle sighed again, this time softer, closing another cabinet to look at Their.

"I can't find any cups or glasses anywhere," his gaze expressed annoyance. "Probably those idiots kept taking new dishes instead of washing theirs, and now they're hoarding a mountain of dirty ones like hamsters."

"You complain about them, but guess whose kitchen I found a bunch of dirty plates breeding a new species in?" Their laughter started to grate on his head, but despite his efforts, a smile appeared on his rough lips.

"That's different; I, um... I'm the oldest, I'm allowed!"

"Ohohoho! [Y.N], my dear!" Splinter entered the red kitchen excitedly, appearing right behind the teenager using his ninja skills. "Are you making your delicious [Most popular dish in your country] again? My mouth waters at the mere thought!"

"Er, what?" Raph had a slightly puzzled expression, hearing about such a dish for the first time. What is that even?

"Oh, unfortunately no, just regular pizza," [Y.N] replied with an apologetic look, placing the last slice of meat. "But don't worry, maybe I'll bring that tomorrow, sounds good?"

"Oh, yes, definitely!"

◇Shortly after that incident, he asked about that dish.

"Oh? That's one of the dishes from my country."

"From your country? I didn't think America had such food to offer."

"Raph, I'm not from America."

"... What?"

◇Less surprised than Leo, but still.

◇Since then, you've been explaining everything about yourself and your country to him.

◇The biggest fan of dishes from your country, especially the way you make them.

◇Raph has a simple mind, so it will take a long time before he grasps the basics of your language, but he remembers many words that he tries to use at the nearest opportunity.

◇He loves it when he says a word correctly, and you pat him on the head as a reward.

◇As for clothing... sorry, but he's too big for that.

◇BUT, you'll make him bracelets in the colors of the flag if he insists.

◇There won't be jokes about your origin; Raph is too respectful turtle for that.

Donatello

◇He's not dumb (usually), and I think he'll be the first to ask if there's anything you haven't told him.

◇Of course, what is life without a bit of fun? You denied it.

◇Thanks to that, it was a game of cat and mouse for two weeks.

◇Eventually, Donnie hacked into one of your social media accounts where you clearly stated which country you're from. If not, he just had to check the login history in different countries.

◇Of course, he got a smack on the back of the head.

(And it's very possible his brothers put him in isolation overnight, you know, that place when Splinter had a fever? Who knows.)

◇You think he won't quickly learn the basics of your language? Dude, he taught a squirrels sign language, what can't he do?

◇Thanks to that, you can talk about various topics that shouldn't be brought up around his family in your native language.

◇And as a fun fact, wanting to surprise him, you asked Shelldon to teach you binary code. The guy was amazed, and Leo wanted to perform exorcisms on you.

◇Maybe he's not as intrigued by your culture, but he wouldn't want to offend you, so if you start talking about it, he won't stop you.

◇On the other hand, he really appreciates national costumes, maybe even doing that scene with you like they were hypnotized? You won't have to ask him for long.

◇Not a big fan of your national dishes, maybe because of the consistency? Or the unusual taste?

◇He'll likely tease you about your origin, but they'll be harmless jokes.

Michelangelo

◇Silly kid. Just a silly kid.

◇Nah, kidding, it just never crossed his mind that his friend is from a different country.

◇And you found it amusing to some extent.

◇Eventually, you told him about it when he got fascinated by a painting from your country.

◇Surprised Pikachu face ver.2

◇Probably the most excited about learning your culture, even if he doesn't understand it and it differs significantly from what's prevalent in America.

◇If your country has an unusual drawing style, he'll beg you to try it together. How can you refuse such an angel? (Not really an angel, especially when Dr. Rude comes into play)

◇He'll be the first to want to try on national costumes, both male and female.

◇He'll also want to, this time by himself, cook some dishes from your country.

◇He burned the kitchen.

◇A total failure when it comes to learning languages, so either you give up on teaching him, or you'll need a lot of patience.

◇Relatively supportive turtle, but he won't be as mindful of your origin afterward; it'll be like it used to be with the extra toppings.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise donnie x reader #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x y/n #rottmnt x you #rise leo x reader #rise mikey x reader #rise raph x reader #rottmnt x reader

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eoieopda · 1 year

Note

hello, jade! 👋 congratulations on 2k followers 👏 👏 you deserve it sm!!! I'm so proud of you! 🫶 if it's okay, I would like to request something for your 2k drabblepalooza event, please. it would be a JungKook x reader e2l drabble with the trope "cuddling for warmth", please. :) (it's been hard for me to find some great fluffy fics with jk and I love everything you write, so I know it'll be good if you decide to write it ♡) thank you in advance, take care! 💕

tysm, sweet bean! as i am wont to do, i went a bit left field. hope that’s okay 😵‍💫 tbh, this one was actually really difficult for me to attempt in drabble format because those things feel so opposite to me and would normally justify a lot more backstory, i think?? but i loved the challenge!! i went more with a “life decided we are enemies” kind of thing.

pairing: jeon jungkook x gn!reader type: drabble | wc: 811 | 18+ genre: hurt/comfort, angst au: enemies to lovers(ish), organized crime summary: you didn’t plan this far ahead. you should have. cw: implied gunshot wound & blood (after the fact, not described in detail) / implied criminal enterprise / reference to threats (a hit) / a plot twist? in this economy? / ambiguous ending

Jungkook hisses as he tightens the belt around his bicep. Not far below it, invisible with the deep black of his jacket, is proof that he isn’t invincible after all. In fact, he bleeds much more freely than anyone else you’d ever met — or, more specifically, anyone else you’d ever shot.

Clipped, rather. The bullet barely grazed him.

He sits two meters away, half-slumped and wholly displeased. Between you, there’s a spent shell casing — your last — that had previously been sitting pretty in a magazine, itself nestled in a pistol once strapped snugly against your right thigh. The gun was confiscated and that thigh strap is useless now, just like the black denim underneath it; the turtleneck sweater above it; and the radiator behind you that likely hasn’t worked at any point in your lifetime.

Cold concrete nips at your ass despite your jeans and you shiver. As it saps what’s left of your body heat, makes the back of your thighs tingle until they’re numb, you do your best to squeeze yourself tighter. You can’t reduce your surface area to zero, but if you shrink as much as is physically possible, you can try your best to keep warm.

For the same reason, you can’t lean your exhausted body against the stone wall behind you, but you can crumple forward and rest against the bent knees you clutch to your chest. You can’t stop glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, either, but you can use the fallout from your ponytail as cover and pretend that you aren’t.

Suffice to say, this was not how your night was supposed to go.

“Worst fucking shot I’ve ever seen in my life,” Jungkook mutters through gritted teeth for what you imagine to be the hundredth time. His scoff is visible when it hits the air; his rage doesn’t dissipate the way his breath does. “Kim was right there and you hit me instead? Unbelievable.”

You don’t respond.

If you unclench your jaw to do so, the chattering of your teeth might reduce them to dust in your mouth.

Without your cell phone, you can’t tell how much time passes while you sit in silence. You can’t confirm your suspicion that the temperature outside has, in fact, dipped far below zero. Similarly, you can’t tell if anyone stuck around after locking you in this basement to see how long it would take for the cold to take you out — or to finish the job themselves if you beat the odds.

Jungkook huffs as he shifts in place. Now, with his back resting uncomfortably against the wall, he glares headlong at you. Unfortunately for him, looks can’t kill.

If they could, you wouldn’t be in this mess.

Against your better judgment — again — you give in to the primal part of your brain that begs for self-preservation. Your muscles are stiff after so much time spent in knots, and they ache as you push yourself off the ground. Your joints protest too, clicking uncomfortably as they resettle. Wordlessly, you ignore the confusion knitting Jungkook’s brows together and cross over to him.

When you reach him, you drop into the space at his side — his good side — and lean against the arm that isn’t trying hard to clot. He doesn’t flinch or attempt to move away, either because he doesn’t have the energy or because he wants to live, too. So, you rest your head against his shoulder and your eyes drift shut as your combined warmth starts to soothe. Eventually, his cheek claims the top of your head. You have to glance up at him to confirm that this is a choice and not a sign.

Still breathing.

For now.

“Boss know how bad your aim is?”

He doesn’t because it isn’t.

You’re an expert marksman — the best of the best — and you don’t miss. Because he knows that, he now knows that your failure to take down the target wasn’t an accident; it was an illusion. Worse, it was a blatant refusal to carry out a direct order. One he gave to you because he’d wholeheartedly believed that you, more than anyone else, could be trusted.

Not like Jungkook, who isn’t the surreptitious infiltrator he thinks he is; and who still doesn’t grasp the rules or the stakes of the game he’s playing.

Who doesn’t know that the purpose of this errand wasn’t to kill a member of the Kim family; or that he was never meant to leave this warehouse with you.

Who will likely die regardless of your subtle attempt to dodge that outcome; and who — like you — didn’t plan more than two steps ahead.

Whose hatred for you and all you stood for was predetermined by circumstance; and who doesn’t know that you know.

It’s not a question when you reply.

“Boss knows you’re a badge, agent.”

#jade’s requests #jade’s drabbles #2k drabblepalooza #jjk #jeong jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #bts #bts drabble #bts imagine #bts scenarios #btshoneyhive #micdropnet #btsafterdarknet #re: the one with jungkook and the sharpshooter

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angelst4re · 2 years

Note

Protective Jace please???? Maybe someone hits on reader and Jace gets super possessive or something???? Maybe with a really soft and snuggly reader next to Jace’s hard stoic-ness???

possessive jace possessive jace possessive jace!!!!! <33

Hands Off- Jace (Wayland? Lightwood? Herondale?) x Reader

warnings: none?

note: i need to write more for jace, he's just so <33 and i'm still only on the 4th book rn i need to keep reading!!

Jace had decided it would be safest if you stuck by his side tonight. Him, Alec and Isabelle were out doing what they do best, demon hunting. This had led them into Pandemonium, a place you had never been before. The lights and the music was enough to give you a headache.

As Izzy and Alec parted from you and Jace into another room, Jace had told you to stay at the bar and to not talk to anybody until he’s back. You told him how it would be quite mean if someone had started a conversation with you and you had to just sit there and ignore them, but Jace didn’t care. He didn’t want anyone thinking they could take what was his.

You stood by the bar, looking around at all the people with very unique styles. You then took your phone out, checking to see if there were any texts to reply to, anything to keep you from this boredom that had been thrown upon you.

“Hey, I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before.” A man said, appearing at your side. He was around the same height as Jace but had short, brown hair with matching brown eyes. “I’m Will, by the way.” He added with a smile. You knew Jace would be mad if you spoke to him, but he seemed nice, what’s the worst that could happen?

“I’m y/n, and you’re right, I’ve never been here before. I’m waiting for my boyf-”

“Can I get you a drink, y/n?” He asked, testing out your name.

“No, it’s okay, I won’t be here long-”

“Please, I insist!” He said, his voice almost demanding.

“Okay,” you chuckled uncomfortably, “well, I’ll just have a lemonade then, please.”

“Pfft, really? Nothing stronger?” He pushed, his hand playing with the strap of your black cami top.

“No, I don’t want-”

“Hey!” A familiar voice shouted from across the room, causing a few eyes to be drawn to your boyfriend, “hands off my girlfriend!”

Will removed his hand and looked around, spotting a slightly sweaty, dirty Jace heading this way.

“I told you I have a boyfriend.” You said softly.

“Y/n, what the fuck, I told you not to talk to anybody!” He threw his hands in the air.

“I didn’t mean to, Jace. I just-”

“I’ll admit it was entirely my fault.” Will said, stepping away from the bar as you now stood by Jace’s side, snuggling into his shoulder.

“I know it was.” Jace said, pulling you closer to his side, his arm wrapping around your waist, “my girl wouldn’t even look at you twice otherwise.”

“Jace, he was only offering to buy me a drink…” You attempt to stand up for Will, but Jace doesn’t have it.

“Yeah, and then what about after that? Get her drunk and take her home with you?” He laughed, “I don’t think so.” He gently let go of you and stepped forwards towards the other man.

And at that, Jace threw the first punch.

... ... ...

Back at the institute, you refused to draw a healing rune on your boyfriend, telling him to heal like a mundane, it may teach him a lesson, to calm his anger and possessiveness. However, you didn’t let him suffer completely, you did clean up his bruised, bloody knuckles.

“I can’t believe you, Jace.” You sigh, wiping the blood from his hand.

“What? Did you just expect me to stand and watch his terrible attempt at flirting with you?” Jace chuckles, “I don’t think so.”

“He wasn’t flirting with me!”

“He was.”

“He wasn’t!” You insist.

“Darling, he was.”

As you gently wrap the bandage over his hand, you can’t help but take in how beautiful his hands were. They held quite a few scars, telling a story of his unfortunate, troubled life. After wrapping him up, you place a kiss over the bandage.

“Baby,” you say, standing up from the bed, “I think our ideas of flirting are very different.”

“I know,” Jace says, looking at his bandaged hand. You put away your mini medical box and come back, standing in front of Jace as he was still sat on your bed, “but he was still flirting with you.”

You sigh and turn to walk away, but Jace quickly pulls you by the waist so you fall onto the bed with him. You giggle as he places light kisses on your neck, attempting to push him away as it tickled.

“He was flirting. And only I can flirt with you, okay?” He whispers against you, his teeth lightly grazing your skin. “Everyone else can get fucked, you’re mine,” he says between kisses, “only mine!”

#jace wayland #jace herondale #jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie campbell bower #jamie bower #jamie bower x reader #jace wayland x reader #jace herondale x reader #the mortal instruments #shadowhunters #jace lightwood #jace morgenstern

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vineofroses · 12 days

Text

Fic Pride Friday

thanks for the tag @liminalmemories21 !

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

large popcorn with a bag of m&ms (in terms of theme and pulling the theme throughout the fic, this is probably still my favorite fic i've written, and i wrote it three years ago! lol. the old guard.)

The screen in front of her blurs, and she’s in another theater, in another time. Andy, Nicky, Joe, they drop away. In their place is ... she glances to her left, and he’s there. Laughing at whatever is on screen as he eats his popcorn. They snuck into Bridesmaids. Is this then? Nile can’t look away, transfixed on this memory of her brother. She knows it’s a memory but it feels so real; the smell of buttery popcorn fills her nose. The lights from the screen dance across her brother’s face. He leans toward her. She knows what he’s going to say before he says it.

“Can you pass me the m&ms?” the memory whispers. It echoes through her. She holds onto it, traps it inside the very deepest parts of her and doesn’t let go. He fades away just as quickly as he appeared. Where he just was, Andy still is. She catches her eye, but Nile turns back toward the screen, ready to get lost in someone else’s adventure for a while.

peace (second Lone Star fic, where poetry was my focus. this part was absolutely my favorite section. Lone Star.)

Slowly but surely new life sprouted from the ground right at their feet. The embers of yesterday faded as he grasped for the ever growing vines. He latched onto the first signs of life so quickly he never realized his hand was the only one reaching out.

a call (with anything i write i always want the end to have a punch and i really liked how this one turned out. shadowhunters.)

“Forgive me for being so forward, Alexander, but you don’t strike me as someone who receives compliments very well,” Magnus says.

Alec raises his eyebrow. A challenge.

Magnus huffs, shaking his head. “I was going to tell you that you have a lovely laugh.”

Alec ducks his dead, smiling into his coke. He can feel the blush rising in his cheeks.

Magnus laughs, delighted by being right. “You’re going to have to get used to compliments, Alexander.”

“Oh, why is that?”

“Because you deserve to hear them,” Magnus says, like it’s a simple truth.

Alec stares at Magnus, the light, fluttery feeling returning. Magnus stares back, and in his eyes Alec sees all his potential, waiting for him to answer back.

echoes (im not very confident about detailing atmosphere and blocking character movements but this part i thought i did pretty well. Lone Star.)

It’s quiet right now. A clock ticks on the wall above his head. An occasional shuffle of someone adjusting their sitting position in the hospital’s unfortunate chairs. Across from him the scratches of Marjan’s pen almost lull him to sleep. But then Mateo’s tapping foot drags him back to wakefullness. Every once in a while, the crinkle of a turned page tunes him into Judd and the magazine he’s pretending to read. Next to Judd, Paul sits unmoving, except for his eyes, silently checking in with Carlos. Each time Carlos nods, but he’s not sure what he means by it. Thank you for calling me. Yes, I’m still here. Yes, I’m scared too.

halted beginnings (really just the last line of this paragraph is my absolute fave. Lone Star.)

Huh. He thinks that seems like something one should remember. The anxious pacing throughout the courtroom, the bored looking witness, plucked randomly from the staff milling about their day. The weeds they pulled from the ground and fashioned into make-shift rings. And the look on his parents’ faces when they showed up to dinner that evening and told them. How a moment’s piercing silence was almost enough for Carlos to doubt that this was what his parents wanted, until cheers and congratulations rang out, engulfing them in a joyous cocoon of happily ever after. The doubt slithered away, defeated. Carlos hugged his parents. In his father’s embrace, he closed his eyes to the look his sisters shared between them, and thought, this is what pride feels like.

why (carlos being fucking dramatic about doing something nice for TK just because it involves Lou II. crack fic! Lone Star)

"Tada," Carlos says with as much cheer as he can muster. This was his idea but he's ready to be out of ideas and never follow through on them ever again. He will obviously accept the award for best husband of century but he will also let it be known that this has been torture.

TK reaches for Lou II and Carlos is happy to hand him over. Lou II agrees if his wiggling body is any indication of how happy he is to see TK. Carlos scoffs. He just bought him pajamas, but okay.

fundamental (there are actually so many parts to this one that i love that it's hard to choose. i was truly in my unhinged writing phase a couple of weeks ago lollllllll. this fic is also one im just super proud of because of the writing process of it thanks in large part to @goldenskykaysani for making the editing process so much fun and thoughtful and yes i will keep tagging you every time i mention this fic because it really would not exist without your help so deal with it!!! lol. this fic also one where every time i think about it im just like, yeah! i fucking did that!)

Iris, I said, Iris, Iris, Iris. I started giggling because wouldn’t that be funny, Dad, that I could find a way to make you proud of me even if it meant dying? Iris, I said again. Would you ever marry me? And she fell back laughing, her beer sloshing over the rim, and I followed her down, sprawled out on her bedroom floor, watching the ceiling fan spin. I took another sip, and filed the question away.

no pressure tagging: @paperstorm @lemonlyman-dotcom @alrightbuckaroo @bonheur-cafe @sznofthesticks

@ladytessa74 @theghostofashton

#the old guard #shadowhunters #911 lone star #pride fic friday

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teacuptoast · 2 years

Text

Watching You Without Me

Relation: Dick Grayson x GN!Reader

Warnings: Hardcore angst, death, potential to make you cry, idk I just got really sad writing this.

Words: 0.6K

Summary: "I think the worst part of me dying was watching you live on without me."

A/N: Short and sweet little blurb. Also, requests are open now so feel free to send stuff in or just chat. Anyway, feedback is always appreciated so let me know how you like the story.

Navigation

I think the worst part of me dying was watching you live on without me.

Watching your first kiss after I had left and seeing the guilt you felt once you’d done it. Running home you locked yourself in the bathroom where you cried for hours. You were suffocating without warm arms to hold you, to hush your broken sobs.

Her lips weren't my lips, but you pretended they were. You pretended and you shouldn’t have. Now I have to watch you helplessly drown in a puddle of your own sorrows.

Watching your first date after I had left was refreshing. A part of you was trying not to smile, almost as if your conscious could see me looking over your shoulder. After a while though, you couldn’t hide it anymore, and neither could I.

You took her to the same place I first showed you. A small pier looking over the harbor, in sight, was the place we first met. Young love was idealistic and quick, naive but strong. That's what we were when we met.

Neither of you could sit down as the sun set over the horizon. You were both captivated by the scene and by each other. Bright hues of pink, orange, and yellow painted the sky I didn’t dare look up. I knew if I looked, I would be right back to that night, all those years ago.

The night you told me you’d love me till the day you’d die. Unfortunately, I died first.

Watching your first ‘I Love You’ after I had left was like salt in my bullet wounds. I tried to be happy for you, I really did, but now the memory of my voice grew hazy. The picture of us on your nightstand now lay refuge deep in your closet, along with the rest of the things that reminded you of me. You weren’t ashamed of me. Were you?

Echos of apologies left my mouth, though no one was there to hear me. I could scream, cry and thrash around, but no one could see me. All alone, no one could love me.

I was lost in the living man's word, forever tied to something I couldn’t have. Is this what I get for leaving you? Forever cursed to follow something I couldn’t have? Was this the price for giving you a second chance at life? For letting you learn to love without me?

Watching your first proposal brought tears to my eyes. Empty streams poured down my face and I couldn’t stop them. I wasn’t sad, nor was I jealous.

At the end of the pier where you'd shared your second kiss with her long ago. Now you were down on one knee, stars in your eyes when you saw the blush rise to her face. The waves crashed against the beach as your lips crashed together.

You were going to marry the love of your life.

Watching your wedding I looked down on you with a proud smile. Grinning ear to ear you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, staring at your soon-to-be wife walking down the aisle. You looked at her with the same love you used to look at me with. I would be lying but your eyes were brighter now, a new type of sparkle within them.

‘Young love’ doesn’t last, they say, and they are always right. I know I was just a stepping stone on your path to get to today, but I’m happy I could be a part of your journey. As you said your vows, I could feel my grip on our story loosen.

I never stayed because you needed me. I stayed because I needed you, even if I had to watch you fall in love with someone else.

I taught you how to love, and you taught me to let go.

A/N: Please let me know how you liked the piece. Constructive criticism is always appreciated!

#nightwing #dick grayson x reader #young justice x reader #nightwing x reader #young justice #teen titans #teen titans x reader #dc #dc x reader #young justice imagines

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daechwitatamic · 2 years

Text

Clingy || MYG

(banner by my lovely lovely @itaeewon)

Clingy - MYG drabble by daechwitatamic

Pairing: MYG x reader

Genre: established relationship, fluff and love, slice of life

WC: 1k

Warnings: one (1) curse, this is also not my wheelhouse to write so I’m nervous eager to see what you think :)

Note: thank you a billion times for all the sobbing emojis during your beta job, @/kookstempo!!! ilu pumpkin

You’re comfy – so comfy: blanket over your legs holding in your body heat, coffee cup between your hands still steaming as you wait for it to cool enough to drink, throw-pillows behind you in just the right spots.

Unfortunately, you have to get up. Why? Because you hear Yoongi’s electric toothbrush in the bathroom, and that means he’s getting ready to leave.

You must make your displeasure known.

You set your coffee cup on the table and reach for the remote, pausing the nonsense you were half-watching as you woke up. You pad through the living room sleepily, heading towards the bathroom light down the hallway.

He’s fresh out of the shower, standing before the bathroom sink in only a clean pair of boxer briefs. In the sink below him, cold water is running. You eye his bare back, still covered in water droplets. He never dries his shoulders properly. He turns to look at you as you come into view in the doorway, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth.

“Uh-oh,” he says, around a mouthful of toothpaste. You can’t help it - you smile deviously.

You come to stand behind him and wrap your arms around his torso, holding on to your own forearms to lock him in place. You rest your cheek against the flat of his shoulder blade for a second – he’s still so warm from the shower – but then face front to look at him in the mirror. In your reflections, you can only see yourself from your eyes up, peering over his shoulder, the rest of you hidden behind the love of your life.

He meets your eyes in the mirror and gives you a look that’s somehow both indulgent and warning. The duality with this guy, you swear.

He leans forward to spit and rinse, and you keep your arms locked tight around his middle, giggling a little when the action causes you to have to stretch onto your tippytoes. You keep your grip tight as he turns to reach for a face-towel, and swivel together with him when he turns back to turn the faucet off.

“Are we really doing this?” he asks you, the barest hint of a laugh in his voice.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say lightly, feigning innocence.

He rolls his eyes at you, but you can see the corners of his mouth fighting twitches. He doesn’t want to laugh; he knows laughing will only encourage your shenanigans.

He turns and heads back into your shared bedroom, and you keep your arms in place, hopping quickly from one foot to another in an effort to not step on him or accidentally let go. He huffs out a laugh as your front bumps into his back over and over in your efforts to keep up.

“Did you know,” he says, stopping in front of his closet, eyes searching for what he wants to wear, “that you only do this when I’m trying to get ready to go?”

“Do what?” you demand innocently.

He cocks an eyebrow at you over his shoulder. You squeeze him just a little tighter. “Get clingy,” he clarifies, even though you both knew what he meant.

“It’s not the only time I get clingy,” you muse, happy to keep the conversation going. As long as he’s still in your grasp, as long as he’s still talking to you, then you’re successfully delaying his departure. “I get clingy when I’m sleepy, too. Or when I’m sad. Or when I just want a hug.”

He’s digging through the closet now, hands going for the hangers he wants. “That’s a long list. How do I put up with you?”

“Good question,” you deadpan. “How do you put up with me?”

He’s been trying to get ready despite your iron grip around his middle – this is such a familiar song-and-dance he’s not sure he can get dressed without you attached to his back – but now he stops. His instinctual reaction, sassy shit that he is, is to quip, “It’s a challenge, for sure,” but something halts him today.

He turns within your little prison, and you allow it. He bends down and kisses your forehead, one lock of black hair falling over his forehead with the motion, and your eyes widen. You obstructing his getting-ready process is commonplace – him being sweet instead of playfully annoyed is not.

But there’s something Yoongi learned the hard way over a year ago when you two started getting serious: while his love language is acts of service, yours is words of affirmation. You both had to learn this about each other and adjust. For you that meant remembering to ask yourself what you could do for him when you weren’t used to having someone else to think about. For him it meant making an effort to put his feelings into words for you, even when it didn’t come easily or naturally.

“Putting up with you,” he says, voice low, “is one of my favorite things to do.”

You go absolutely silent, but you squeeze him a little tighter. You know it doesn’t come effortlessly for Yoongi to be verbally sentimental – he shows his love in a million little ways every day, but this kind of thing means he put in a concentrated effort, made a choice to try and give you what you need. You’re flooded with gratitude, overcome with appreciation for his willingness to try for you.

“Well, now I really don’t want you to leave,” you grumble into his chest. He laughs fully, shoulders shaking and smile showing his gums.

“The sooner you let me go,” he reasons, “the sooner I can come home again.”

“I’d rather you not go at all,” you say. He glances at the clock and gives your arms two quick pats, indicating that he really needs to make some moves now, and your allotted bothering time is up. Sighing, you release your hold on him, making to go back to your spot on the couch. Your coffee has probably cooled by now.

You’re about to step away when Yoongi reaches and pulls you back, wrapping you in one last hug before he has to start hustling to get out the door on time. You sink against him, eyes closing. You’re back to being comfy – so comfy.

#yoongi drabble #myg drabble #dailydaegu #yoongi fluff #myg fluff #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #established relationship #one shot #daechwitatamic drabbles #1k

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ambrossart · 30 days

Note

good morning!!! I hope this week is better than your last, I’m looking forward to the next chapter of Paper Men! I was rereading and noticed that it seems, of all her love interests, Patrick is the only one who doesn’t hold her to this impossibly high standard. I was wondering if you did this intentionally (because I can tell everything you’ve written so far has been) or if this could change? I feel like this is partially why I root for Patrick even though he’s bad news, he’s different than Henry and Vic… he’s openly interested in Evelyn and seems to admire her (admire might be a strong word for him) differently than the other guys have been. idk if any of this makes sense lol. just seems unlike Vic and Henry, he doesn’t need Evelyn to be perfect.

Well, tomorrow (or uh… today, technically) is my birthday, so this week is already gonna be better than the last lol. I was just really busy with work last week, and I'm still getting used to my new writing schedule. Normally, I have a little free time during the afternoon to write, but not anymore. Now I have to do all my writing late at night. I don't love that, but I don’t really have a choice.

Anyway, it absolutely was intentional to have Patrick treat Evelyn differently because I want people to understand why someone like Patrick (who, at first glance, probably doesn't seem like Evelyn's type) might appeal to her, especially at this point in her life.

When it comes to relationships, Evelyn is very direct. If she likes someone, either romantically or platonically, it's pretty obvious that she likes them. Evelyn's not good at holding in her emotions, and that, unfortunately, can be overwhelming for a lot of people. We saw that with Victor when they were kids. Evelyn came on very strong right out of the gate and Victor couldn't handle it, so he kept pushing her away until Evelyn eventually gave up and moved on. Then she got “involved” with Henry, which was a slight improvement but came with all kinds of other problems. And you’re right, he does hold her to an impossible standard. Henry demands perfection and absolute loyalty from his partner; otherwise he doesn’t feel safe. That’s all well and good for Henry, but it’s not exactly fair to Evelyn.

Frankly, Evelyn’s exhausted right now. She’s tired of putting all her time and energy into one-sided relationships. She wants to be wanted. She wants to be desired. So now here comes Patrick, who is very consistent and clear about what he wants: he wants her, that’s all. He doesn’t play hard to get. He doesn’t pull away. And he doesn’t place any expectations or restrictions on her. With Patrick, Evelyn can do whatever she wants. She can be clingy and emotional. (In fact, Patrick wants her to be emotional. The guy’s a leech; he feeds off that shit.) She can’t cross a line because Patrick has no boundaries. It’s basically impossible to make that man uncomfortable. That’s gotta be pretty liberating for someone who’s used to walking on eggshells.

Most importantly, Patrick displays a genuine (or at least a seemingly genuine) interest in her, her life, her hobbies. He asks questions. He listens. He remembers. Does he have an ulterior motive? Of course he does, but does that really matter? Eh, I’ll leave that up to you. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Right now, Patrick is exactly what Evelyn needs, and I think if she ever lets her guard down, she’ll be surprised by how attracted to him she really is.

… which is what Patrick is counting on. 😂

#the man is trash #but we like trash here #answered asks #thanks for the ask!#paper men #ambrossart

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writingwell · 6 months

Text

20 13 fanfic questions

Thanks to @randomfoggytiger for the tag. I didn’t do all of them, just the pertinent ones, and I modified those just to include ffnet as well.

1. How many works do you have? 26 on AO3 (for my mature rated Spy Castle stuff); fanfiction.net has 278 Castle fics;and about 300ish archived at Gossamer for X-Files.

4. What are your top fics by kudos/reviews? The Return of Vulcan Simmons, Tempest (not a spy work!) on AO3; ffnet would be One Hundred Days of Summer (co-authored with SandianeCarter) and Dash It All.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yeah, I think if you take the time to contact me, you deserve the respect of hearing from me. It might not be a full-blown conversation, but I’ll do what I can with a full-time profession and a writing one as well. Also, suuuuper sorry, just discovered AO3 has an inbox. 300 days ago, some of you messaged me and I am just now seeing those. Lol.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I have a spy fic where the two of them are just so at odds, so grieving with and over each other… okay that’s most of them. But I try not to end on angst, as it’s supposed to be the journey not the destination. (Angst is a twisting of the heart, not a place where you stay. According to me.)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Dash series has the ‘happiest’ endings. Not because life is happy, but because they figured out how to create contentment within what they’d been given/dealt in life. And in ways other versions of the Castle characters hadn’t accomplished. They did the work.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Oh definitely. A while back, I turned off comments on tumblr for about a year as I processed and healed from some targeted attacks, and I can say that I came out more certain of myself and my writing. But I was also an adult who had not been forced to weather these attacks as a vulnerable 13 y-o on social media (as so many of you are unfortunately dealing with). I was able to detach, center myself once more, and rise above because I’d grown up IRL, so to speak. I have a faith in something bigger than me which, while it doesn’t look like what it did, has sustained me and given me the confidence to know my worth even as it spurs me to be/do better.

9. Do you write smut. If so what kind? Oh definitely, lol. It’s on AO3. Usually I like to explore M/F with a third in there for kicks, as the concept of generosity and giving within the sexual relationship/experience is intriguing to me.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I objected to the term ‘stolen.’ I’ve had my fics, without my knowledge, posted elsewhere, translated without my knowledge, and changed to other fandom characters to be posted elsewhere. However! I’ve had loads of people ask me too, and I really appreciate being able to go visit them. (Stolen would indicate I somehow own these fanfictions, and I do not, as that would be a legally difficult hill to stand on. I also do not perceive collective fan art in this manner, because the world is all of ours.)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? Oh there’s a co-written story that me, carto, and muppet47 started and have NEVER finished. We all know Castle has to go to jail, but we can’t write it.

16. What are your writing strengths? Writing it the first time. Correctly. As in, it comes out the way it should or ought to or how I am seeing it in the moment. I have the right rhythm, I can spell and I have the grammar skills. My first draft is fast and good enough for submission. Of course, I go back and edit, and I have to, but I’m very blessed in not ever going through anything like writer’s block.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Secondary characters. I have a tendency for tunnel vision, where all I want to do is talk about and to and for the main characters. If they have friends or family, I barely include them. I can’t manage to care that they exist. But all of us live in a complex web of relationships and community; no one is alone. My last novel, Taste of Salt, was an concentrated effort to include as many other perspectives as possible, so it was told through the POVs of the two main characters and interspersed with flashback chapters from the POVs of their friends, family, coworkers, chance encounters, medical personnel, kids, support networks… there you go.You have to do the thing that’s hard. Write it out, over and over, keep practicing.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? Yeah, sometimes it becomes necessary for the character. But please keep it to a minimum (imo) as it detracts from the reader’s understanding and experience of reading. It ought to be rather easy to understand what the person is saying due to context or just the flow of the scene. If you’re writing in English, and you have a character visiting France, then obviously some of that ought to be in French, but after a while, you can indicate that the language is being used while writing it in English. I say this because most of you are fandom writers who are not writing for literary audiences; therefore, don’t ruin everyone’s fun my making it incomprehensible or inaccessible. Please.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? Don’t ask me to choose between my children! I can tell you that Dash holds a special place in my heart due to the amount of readers who said it gave them understanding of their own sensory issues or their child’s autism, etc. Spy gave me one of my greatest friends, carto, who continues to love and support me and my writing.

I won't tag anyone, because I deleted so many of these questions, but feel free to answer or share or talk with me about them!

#chezchuckles #writingwell #castle fanfiction #writing advice

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longing-for-rain · 28 days

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On sexual abuse, trauma, and recovery

I’ve wanted to post something like this for a long time, because of things people have said directly to me and other things I’ve seen. It strikes me how people who haven’t experienced this really don’t understand how it feels, both in the moment and in the aftermath.

The reason I finally decided to make this post is actually on a more positive note—I’m writing this just after I’ve had my first real date in years. My first real date I’ve had the courage to go on after escaping a sexually abusive situation I endured for nearly a year during the COVID pandemic. I’m writing this to say that even though what I’m talking about it going to sound bleak and disturbing, it doesn’t end there. We can still move on. I used to think I would rather die than be looked at sexually again. I didn’t even want to go out in public. But I’m sharing because no matter how bleak what I’m about to say sounds, I’m still here. We don’t have to stay trapped; we don’t have to stay silent.

I’ll put the rest below, and please, read at your own risk because I will be discussing heavy topics such as sexual abuse and the aftermath of that.

I’ve learned a lot over the past few years, but probably the most important thing I’ve learned is that the idea that recovery is quick and easy is a myth. The idea that it’s easy to get justice when you’re abused is a myth. Some people will probably get angry at me for saying this, but in all honesty, I wish I’d been warned. That’s the part I truly wasn’t prepared for—how isolated I would feel in the aftermath, and how the people and systems that promised to always support victims failed me. I’m tired of being told that it’s easy to simply report and move on. It’s never that simple.

The first time it happened, I was naïve and drunk and blamed myself. I just blocked it out. By the time it fully hit home that I’d been assaulted, it was too late. I had no evidence of the event and knew nothing would come of it if I reported it. So I didn’t. It was painful enough that it happened. I couldn’t handle also being accused of being a lying whore trying to ruin an “innocent” man’s life for no reason. That’s how women like me are treated when we try to say anything.

That was right before COVID. During COVID, I was mostly online and that’s how I got into fandom again. I found comfort there, especially after what I’d been through, but unfortunately I repeated the same mistake I’d made the first time—I was naïve, I was somewhere unfamiliar, and way too vulnerable. Someone took advantage of that.

I don’t really want to go into details, but I was sexually groomed and abused over the course of about a year. I didn’t realize it at first, because that’s the cruel thing about grooming. When it starts slowly, you don’t realize what’s happening to you until it’s too late. I spent hours a day at times on the phone with this person. What I thought was “advice” was really just her pushing me into places (sexually) that she knew I wasn’t comfortable with. To this day I still don’t know if it was because she was interested in my sexually or if she just liked the idea of “corrupting” a much younger woman into destroying herself just like she had.

But at the time, I was blind to it. I thought it was just a toxic friendship. I felt hurt and traumatized but didn’t understand how to express why I was feeling the way I was. I didn’t yet recognize it as abuse, and even the slightest hint of that was crushed by my abuser and her friends. She knew the community better than me and how to manipulate it—how to make me look crazy for trying to come to terms with what happened. So ultimately, I simply blocked her, deleted every account I’d been associated with her on, and thought it would end there.

At the time it seemed like the best option. But later, I realized what I’d done. Those conversations were evidence, and I’d gotten rid of them all. So now I’m suffering the same fate I did the first time. I have no evidence. I have to deal with what happened, and I can’t prove it.

I did try to speak up, eventually, as many abused women do. I got a taste of why rape has a 2% conviction rate, why this is a crime that goes so often unpunished. People who barely knew the situation got involved, because they were friends of friends of the abuser. I was called things like “shit stirrer” and accused of “disrupting the community” for trying to say something. I lost friends I thought I could trust, either because they sided with my abuser or because they were too cowardly to say anything. And nobody has ever apologized for anything—not one. I’ll be honest. I seriously considered suicide multiple times and attempted once. The aftermath was even worse for me than the abuse in some ways. I was still living under the lie that as a victim, I’d have support and understanding from my community when in reality it was the opposite. Sometimes I feel like if it ever happened to me again, I would actually end my life. I don’t know if I could go through this whole process again.

So yes, that’s why it’s isolating. That’s why it’s so painful; why “just report it” is bullshit. If you haven’t been through something like this, don’t even pretend to understand. You will lose friends. You will be isolated and ostracized from communities you thought could support you. You will watch people repost essays about supporting victims on their social media turn around and blame you for your own abuse. You will watch people use sexual harassment and abuse in ship wars about fictional characters and then participate in your real life abuse. People will make fun of your sexual abuse. People will tell you your sexual abuse is hot. People will tell you that they understand, then side with your abuser anyway, after you’ve already opened up to them.

That’s the reality. Why is it this way? I don’t know. I think a lot of it is deeply ingrained misogyny, which is why I think it’s so so important to recognize and call out the misogyny intertwined in our culture and communities. It’s what creates the environment that allows this to happen and isolated victims from each other.

This is rambling, I know, but I’m getting frustrated by some of these anons spouting off about something they clearly know nothing about. Stop treating it like some easy thing that just goes away and that people actually care about sexual trauma and victims. They don’t.

#tw sa vent #tw sa #personal #tw suicide mention #tw misogyny #feminism

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broomsick · 8 months

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Is it alright if I ask you for some guidance on connecting with the Norse pantheon? I'm entering into a really scary time in my life, grappling with going to college in the city despite being (up until now) a lifelong country bumpkin and possibly even moving out for the first time, all while being a timid autistic person with a terrible anxiety disorder.

Basically if there's ever a time I'd need the gods to be present in my life it's now, but I still struggle to feel connected with them sometimes. I still connect with them, I've had dreams where I talk with Odin and Thor and Freyr, but I can't say they're a completely consistent part of my life. Sometimes I even question if they're really protecting me, even though I know that's almost certainly the anxiety talking.

Is there anything you'd recommend doing to connect with the gods during a really stressful time? I have a very small and honestly not very impressive altar so maybe I should work to spruce that up more. Any guidance would be appreciated, sorry for bothering you 🙏 Thanks!

Hi there! First of all, I want to tell you that moving out is indeed scary, and it's very brave of you to consider moving so far! I definitely understand your situation, as I haved struggled with anxiety pretty much forever. Unfortunately, being a pagan with this sort of mental health challenge can bring about a lot of insecurity. And I find that sometimes, it can also make us feel disconnected from our spirituality. I don't think that this is something we can completely overcome. As a matter of fact, I find that it's better to ask yourself "why do I feel this way right now?", rather than say "I should be feeling this way, so why don't I?". What I learned with time is that our day-to-day circumstances affect our spirituality more than we think. For example, I often start to feel disconnected from my spiritual life when I've had a stressful week at work, or even just when I try too long and too hard to connect with the Gods. And on top of that, with social media being the way it is, people cant help but compare themselves with pagans who have more time and money on their hands. Now, I'm no expert on all things psychology, but I do know about spirituality. And I know that it comes and goes in waves: every single polytheist I've met experiences moments when they don't feel as connected to their Gods as they used to. Even those whose very career was tied to their spiritual practices. But those are not bad news! It only means that you have a healthy relationship with spirituality, and that you're not letting it overshadow the other important aspects of your life.

But more on the tips to stay connected to the Gods. What I know for certain is that sometimes, we have no control over how connected we feel to them. But there are a lot ways for you to keep them close to your heart. The first, in my opinion, is to make your spirituality into a safe and happy place. Find ways to make it fun! By listening to music that feels spiritual to you, writing down prayers or devotional poems when you’re inspired, wearing a piece of jewelry in their honor, making a Pinterest board into a little online shrine, drawing a rune or sigil which represents them on your skin, making art of the deities you love… In other words, don’t be afraid to mix your passions and your faith. No matter how “casual” it may feel! Sometimes, “casual” is what we can manage given our busy lives (which is why the size of your altar does not matter, it’s the love you pour into tending it that makes all the difference). It’s both perfectly normal and healthy. And if something about your practice/belief doesn’t feel right anymore, simply let go of it. Same goes if you don’t resonate with something that every other pagan seem to do.

Another tip I can give you is to simply try (don’t worry, I will elaborate). By this, I mean adopt simple gestures to honor them, even if there might not necessarily be a response. I find that this is especially important in moments when you struggle to feel the presence of your Gods. Leave them a small portion of your dinner every now and then. Do a little bit of research on this or that deity when you can. And if you’ve got the time, offer them a fruit, or a cup of coffee! Anything will do, no matter how small. Light a candle for them every night (routine helps a lot), and pray if you’ve got something on your mind. It’s normal not to see some sort of immediate response. But if you look around yourself during the day— if you look at the sunset on your way home from work, at the trees that rustle with the wind, or at the rain pouring outside your window—, and if you listen carefully to what people tell you, you might start to notice some signs. Recurring patterns and omens are a typical example of signs that a deity might send. It’s also fun to draw parallels between every day things and your deities. For example, to think of Freyr when you tend a cute new house plant. Or to pray to Skaði during a snowstorm! I have always loved “inviting” deities to witness certain events, so as to share the joy with them. I simply close my eyes, focus of the deity I want to call out to, and speak their name aloud, or murmur it. Actually, if you’re interested in this topic, I have written this post, which could be helpful to you!

Don’t be afraid to keep trying, that’s my most important tip. There’s really not much else we can do when we feel disconnected from our faith. Make your belief into something that feels right. Spirituality should be a happy place for you, and not a reason for worry. You deserve for your practice as a norse pagan to feel joyful and fulfilling. Above all, don’t force anything: these sorts of moments are inevitable. I’ve known them myself, and so has every other pagan. But things will get better soon, that I guarantee!

#norse paganism #norse gods #deities #paganism #deity work #polytheism #heathenry #spirituality #ask #asks

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