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#buys talent and doesn’t know what to actually do with it .
cinnajun · 10 months
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ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: zb1 when they get jealous
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a/n: this is my istj waiting room activity
notes: yujin is not included due to his age, jiwoong’s is set in the real world (aka he’s an idol), did not proofread
wc | 4.2k
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jiwoong
i don’t think jiwoong gets jealous often
it’s just not his first thought when it comes to certain things LOL
but, depending on the situation, he absolutely will get jealous, but not in the way most people do
many people digest jealousy/envy as a big emotion but i don’t think it’s very big for jiwoong
and he knows that his jealousy isn’t something you should have to deal with but he doesn’t want to deal with it either so he’ll do his best to get rid of the issue without you knowing, which means making up creative ways to squash the situation
they all incorporate wherever you are
so let’s say you’re at the mall, you’re waiting for him to get out of a store, and a guy walks up to you and starts chatting you up
jiwoong will walk up to you and smile at whatever guy is flirting with you, acting completely fine
and then he’ll dip down and whisper something into your ear, and it’s usually something super unserious
“there’s a 50% sale at the ice cream shop and you get a fun cup for free”
you’re gone, he’s happy, and whatever guy was chatting you up is completely out of the picture
things are different when it comes to his members though
he always knew you liked kids and was well aware that you often volunteered to help out with kids, and he knew that you tutored high school students throughout university
nevertheless, jiwoong never thought han yujin would be his worst enemy
JIWOONG IS NORMALLY the most patient person you know—he can sit with you in a shop for an hour, watching you debate over two different mugs to buy without voicing one complaint. However, for some reason, watching you cook Yujin’s lunch is the worst thing he’s ever had to experience.
You had insisted on it after finding out he was planning on going to school after how long they’d been promoting, saying that it would be hard for him to go to school without anyone to cook him lunch. Jiwoong insisted that Hanbin probably would’ve, but you brushed him off, saying it wouldn’t take you long.
An hour and a half later, he was still sitting there, watching you cut watermelon into flowers. It was nearly 8 o’clock, and the movie you were going to was due to start at 8:45—meaning you had to leave soon.
“Are you almost done?” he asked, putting his down on the counter. You scoffed, putting the lid onto the last section of Yujin’s lunch box.
“What’s up with you?” you asked, beginning to wrap it up. “You’ve asked three times in the last hour.”
“I’m jealous that you’re spending more time fussing over Yujin’s lunch than hanging out with your boyfriend, whom you haven’t seen in a long time.”
“You’re jealous over Yujin?” you asked, exasperated, turning around and putting your hands on your hips. “He’s your kid too! You should help out! What father is jealous of their own child?”
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zhang hao
there are 2 men in zb1 that don’t get jealous literally ever and hao is one of them
literally how could he be jealous when he’s zhang hao
most of the time, actually, you’re the one getting jealous (which makes sense, because he’s zhang hao)
and he always mocks you for it, which you hate
he’ll say something like “aw, do you think they’re going to steal me away from you?” and you have to resist the urge to punch him in the stomach
so when he actually gets jealous it is sooooo much fun for you
you milk it to no end. it is an opportunity you CANNOT waste
most of the time, it happens at his fancy violinist events, where you meet other people who are just as talented and impressive as him (and sometimes, they’re pretty attractive, too)
when he’s jealous, he sticks to your side and gets a little bit mean, especially towards whoever he’s jealous of
gets super touchy too
has a hand around your waist and drags you around with him just to make sure everyone gets the big picture
one day, he notices you and hanbin have been hanging out a lot all of a sudden, and it makes him really, really jealous
mostly because he can’t do his little flaunt routine, because he’s flaunted you to him enough
and then you realize he’s jealous that you and hanbin have been spending a lot of time together planning his birthday party
so obviously you capitalize on it immediately
it backfires on you
HAO WASN’T TRYING to be dramatic, but when he swung the door to Hanbin’s apartment open, having dug the spare key out from under the mat, he couldn’t help but march in like a soldier going to war.
You and Hanbin were sitting at his dining table, both of your laptops open. You had a cup of tea on the table, too, in a mug Hao knew he’d gifted Hanbin for his birthday a couple of years back.
“You let him make you tea?” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air like he was in some sort of drama. Both you and Hanbin stared at him in a mix of shock and confusion, wondering what in the world had caused him to barge in like that. Sure, you were beginning to pick up the fact that he was jealous of your business meetings with his best friend, but you weren’t exactly aware of how far you’d let it progress.
“Well, I made the tea—”
“You know where he keeps his tea?” he cut you off, staring at you while tapping his foot on the ground. “I am sick of this. How am I being left out by my partner and my best friend? What did I do to deserve this?”
“I think you’re getting the wrong idea,” Hanbin said, slowly closing his laptop. “We aren’t hanging out, per se, so we aren’t exactly leaving you out.”
“Then why have you spent hours upon hours together over the past week?”
You placed a hand over your mouth, trying to stop from laughing. “Hao, please be serious. What’s next week?”
His cheeks turned bright red, and you wished you could’ve got his big outburst on video.
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hanbin
i am a believer that hanbin get sooo jealous (have you seen him glare at people's interaction with hao LOL)
he’s like the nicest guy on earth so there has to be one negative emotion that he feels
and it’s quite literally only over his loved ones, nothing else
will get jealous if people spend too much time with hao
will get even more jealous if people steal your attention away from him
he doesn’t even get jealous over things he should be getting jealous over, it’s things he hallucinates
“that guy stared at you a little too weirdly…”
“he was just our waiter?”
“still he was too friendly…i got bad vibes”
when hanbin gets jealous, though, it’s not very serious and never causes a problem between you two
he might hold your hand a little tighter or not be very fond of leaving you alone, but otherwise it’s not an issue
there are instances where his jealousy can get serious, and most of the time it’s pretty warranted (and this is when hanbin leans towards protective)
you’ll be watching one of his performances among a bunch of his peers and someone will get a little too touchy with you
and dancers are very hot so he might get a little insecure too
he will stomp over to you, sweaty and tired, and drag you away without saying a word to whoever was chatting you up
other than that his jealousy is kind of cute
hanbin doesn’t view any of the boys as enemies but sometimes matthew can be super cute
and while he considers matthew one of his best friends sometimes he forgets that matthew is just like that and isn’t trying to woo you
matthew, however, is well versed in the art that is hanbinism and is immune to it
YOU KNOW HANBIN like the back of your hand. He’s sweet, pretty, and enjoys being around the people he loves. And, you know for a fact Matthew is one of the people he loves. Nevertheless, when he skips up to you two with a white rose he picked, Taerae in tow, you can practically see a vein pop out of Hanbin’s head.
“Look at how pretty this is!” he smiled, and you nodded, agreeing with him. “Taerae and I found a bush of them, and I figured I’d pick one to give to you.”
You hear Hanbin scoff, and, feeling panic rush up your throat, you turn to him with horror flowing through you. The look in his eyes is dangerous, and a sort of shallow smile appears on his face—you don’t like it one bit. You turn back to Matthew, who seems completely unphased, and instead keeps talking.
“Here,” he said, holding it out to Hanbin. He stares at it, raising his eyebrows in confusion.
“I thought you were giving it to [First]?”
“Huh? That would be weird,” Matthew replies, tilting his head. You hear Taerae begin to laugh, likely at Hanbin, and you have to hold back a little chuckle as well. “Wouldn’t you be the one to give a rose to them? Anyway, here you go.”
Hanbin, dumbfounded, takes the rose from Matthew’s hand, and he and Taerae disappear off into the distance.
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matthew
matthew is #2 of men in zb1 who don’t get jealous often
literally doesn’t have the brain capacity for it
he’s like a universal friend, and universal friends don’t get jealous of anybody, nor do they distrust their significant others
a more appropriate word to use would be uncomfortable
at least that’s what matthew says when he gets jealous LOL
he genuinely doesn’t think he feels jealous because he doesn’t have any worry that whoever is talking to you is going to “steal” you away from him, but he certainly doesn’t appreciate anybody hardcore flirting with you
he can handle a “you’re so pretty” or an “i love your outfit” but if someone is persisting and he can tell you’re uncomfortable (both factors have to be present, or he’ll just let you handle it yourself) he will do his best to shut it down
but in the matthew way
so he walks over to you with a big smile on his face and starts talking to you like he normally would
“hey, babe, i lost you for a second”
whoever’s talking to you literally can’t keep going because of how nice matthew is
“oh, who’s this? it’s nice to meet you! i’m [first]’s boyfriend, matthew”
they’re gone within 2 minutes and matthew is feeling successful
he’ll probably give you a kiss on the cheek afterwards just to hammer home his point
he will, however, admit that he gets jealous of the other members lol
it’s mostly because he considers them his friends, though, so the idea that you’d be into one of them is scary to him
as a result, he gets a little wary when he stumbles upon you chatting with jiwoong at a party
BEFORE MATTHEW LEFT to go get a drink, you were sitting on the couch, playing a game on your phone. He planned to tell you that you could leave after he finished the drink, but when he returned, Jiwoong was sitting across from you, speaking with you.
The smile on your face was genuine, and you seemed overjoyed that you weren’t bored anymore. And, subconsciously, Matthew took it as you being happy that Jiwoong was talking to you, and not because you were glad you wouldn’t have to drag Matthew away from his friends anymore (which was the truth).
He sat back down next to you, sitting on the edge of the seat and putting his cup down on the coffee table. You smiled at him, and Jiwoong said his hellos, to which Matthew replied less than enthusiastically.
“We were just chatting about the new art exhibit that opened up at the museum. You know, the one we went to last week?”
“Yeah, I remember,” he said, taking a long sip of the drink. You raised an eyebrow, finally picking up that Matthew was feeling a bit jealous. “You planning on going again, or something?”
“Nope,” Jiwoong cut in, leaning back in his chair. “Actually, [First] was just talking about how much she enjoyed going with you, as you seemed to like it a lot. She said your eyes were sparkling the entire time.”
Matthew shut up quick after that, and you didn’t mention it ever again.
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taerae
taerae’s jealousy is silent
you won’t know he’s jealous until well after the event has occurred
he might bring it up in passing weeks later and you’re absolutely dumbfounded
mostly because you had no clue
“you were jealous?”
“yeah, he kept staring at your lips and was getting super touchy with you. how would i not be jealous?”
you think about the interaction for hours afterward, you skim through all the memories, and you cannot figure out where he conveyed he was jealous
he’s so good at masking any negative emotion that when you manage to notice his jealousy it’s almost a little bit scary
you’ll be talking with someone, it doesn’t matter who, and you’ll look over at him for a second and notice this weird look in his eyes
and then you’ll be hyperaware of how everything he says has this sharp edge to it
little jabs that neither you or whoever you’re talking to would be able to pick up unless they were actively looking for hostility
lowkey it’s kind of attractive LOL
taerae’s usually the picture of “kind” so seeing him go into a lockdown mode is a bit fun for you, even if it’s barely noticeable
after the event that made him jealous he’s super touchy with you which is also fun for you
because taerae gives gooood hugs and is comfortable to lay on
so, long story short, if he’s ever jealous of the boys you don’t know until afterward
sometimes even weeks after the fact
and obviously when you were fawning over zhang hao after his violin recital, which taerae had taken you to, you weren’t exactly aware of the way he was staring at hao
WHEN TAERAE GRABS your hand about a minute into your drive, lacing all of your fingers together and pulling your hand onto his lap, your jaw drops. You turn to look at him with shock on your face, trying to find the words to say. “No way,” you gasped, putting your other hand over your mouth. 
He looks over at you for a brief second, confused as to why you’re suddenly making such a big deal that he was holding your hand. “What? I don’t understand.”
“You were jealous? Of Hao?” you exclaimed, letting your hand drop from your mouth. “Why? I mean, he did well, did he not? Was I too complimentary? Do I need to reel it back next time?”
“What? No, you were just being nice. Where did you get the idea I was jealous?”
“You say that, but in a month and a half, you’re going to be like, ‘You know what made me super jealous?’ and then you’re going to drop three bombs on me,” you replied. “And this is going to be included. So, just say it now, so we can get it over with.”
Taerae blinked a couple of times, tightening his grip on your hand. “Okay, maybe I was a little jealous—”
You wrenched your hand away from his, clapping excitedly. “Oh, I’m a genius! I have a degree in Taeraeology now, seriously.”
“What in the world is Taeraeology?”
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ricky
when ricky gets jealous it’s like not a competition
he just shuts the situation down
i mean he’s so tall and so gorgeous that anybody who tries anything with you is immediately so intimidated the moment he does anything, he barely even has to talk
he literally has a neck tattoo like that’s terrifying
as a result he does not have the time to get seriously jealous because anyone who’s flirting with you is sprinting away the moment they lay eyes on him approaching you
most of the time people don’t even try anything anyway because they see you with him before you’re separated
for the few that are willing to stand up to ricky, it’s pretty funny for you to watch
“[first], who’s this?” and you watch the competitor cartoon-gulp right in front of you
they maybe last about 15 seconds before they bid you goodbye out of pure intimidation like good for you ricky
if it’s one of the days where he looks incredibly cute and soft (you know what i’m talking about) things tend to go south because ricky is awkward and his strong suit is rbf
at which point you end up having to be the one to be like “okay, me and my boyfriend are going to head out now!” LOL
among the jebis the only one ricky is going to get jealous of is gyuvin and that’s because they’re the same age and very close
he knows gyuvin will never make a move on you but that doesn’t stop him from getting jealous when gyuvin is taking up too much of your attention
and he’ll straight up tell him to fuck off too LOL
riyangis i get you
GYUVIN LOOKS LIKE he’s about to burst into laughter as Ricky stands next to you, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He never takes Ricky’s jealousy seriously, which you understand why, given the fact that they’re best friends, and he has absolutely no interest in you whatsoever.
“You should go home now,” Ricky insists, motioning towards the front door. “I think we’ve hung out for long enough today.”
It was partially your fault for introducing a topic Ricky wasn’t versed in, but Gyuvin was the only other person you knew had watched the show you were watching, and you were itching to talk about it with somebody who understood. But, you’d pushed it too far, and he’d gotten a bit upset that you were focusing on Gyuvin when he had barged into your date.
“Aw, but [First] is my friend, too.”
“And, if we were both drowning, she’d choose me over you. What’s your point?”
Gyuvin burst into laughter, clutching his stomach as he wobbled towards the door. You held back your laughter as best you could, nearly losing it as Gyuvin struggled to put on the pair of bright yellow Crocs he decided to wear when he walked over. He opened the door and slammed it shut, yet you could still hear him laughing outside.
Then, you couldn’t hold it back anymore. You laughed so hard that you also had to hold your stomach, and Ricky marched away from you, ignoring the halfassed apologies that fell from your lips.
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gyuvin
gyuvin isn’t usually a jealous guy but he can get jealous, as opposed to hao and matthew who virtually never get jealous
when he gets jealous though it’s somewhat upsetting
it usually means something happened that wounded his pride or made him feel insecure, which you don’t enjoy obviously
so 99.9% of the time, if gyuvin is jealous, it’s because one of the members did something to/with you that he wasn’t super okay with
it’s never anything minute, like one of them liking an instagram post or something stupid, rather something happening under his nose
he loves and respects them a lot so the idea that they did something with his s/o without him knowing makes him super duper unhappy
and then he’ll start to think that there’s something they have that he didn’t, so he gets a bit insecure, too
but he absolutely will convince himself it’s not a big deal so then he’s just in an extra bad mood for the rest of the day
you usually have to squeeze whatever’s wrong out of him and, when you manage to, you feel really bad
because usually whatever happened to upset him was something you thought you’d addressed with him and/or thought he knew about
like ricky, he gets most jealous over things that happen between you and ricky
because you’re all close in age and gyuvin and ricky spend all of their time together, you’re obviously friends with him too
and, in ricky’s seasonal instagram wrap up post, he notices a selfie of you two in what he thinks was a hangout you had together without him knowing based on the background
it ruins his day so fast :( but you make sure to patch up the misunderstanding
GYUVIN HATES THE WAY HE FEELS as he gears up to speak, twiddling his thumbs while you sit across from him at the table, a frown painting your face. He doesn’t like it when you look sad, and he doesn’t like feeling this way or addressing that he feels it. So, when the time comes where he has to talk about it, it eats him up from the inside out.
“Did you hang out with Ricky? Without me?”
You immediately furrow your eyebrows, as if you’re confused. “Not that I know of? I barely even text Ricky outside of the group chat the three of us have. Where’d you get that idea?”
Embarrassed, Gyuvin decides to pull up the post, turning his phone to face you. You take it from his hands, bringing it closer to your face so that you can get a better look at it. Then, recognition floods your features, and your frown turns into a smile. “That was when we roadtripped to the beach. Not pictured here are you and Taerae, who were getting us coffee.”
Gyuvin snatches the phone back, feeling even more embarrassed. He zooms in on the background parts, ignoring you and Ricky, quickly realizing that the filter Ricky put on the picture made the water look much bluer than it actually had been, leading him to believe you’d gone on your own separate beach trip. Feeling the blood rush to his cheeks, Gyuvin smiled crookedly.
“My bad.”
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gunwook
i actually struggled with this
on one hand i don’t think gunwook would get jealous easily
he’s a very reasonable boyfriend and has quite literally never wronged you
on the other hand i do think he would get jealous somewhat frequently
in the same way as taerae, it’s very quiet jealousy, but you will literally never know with him
he won’t ever bring it up after it happens and will just. move on
he also might get a little snarky with whoever approached you afterwards, but never when you’re around, so you are none the wiser
if you find out gunwook got jealous, you are finding out from other people, which you think is absolutely insane
one day you’ll be like cordially chatting with gyuvin and he’ll bring up this one time gunwook got super mega jealous over one of your guy friends and how it haunted him for months and you’re like ??? what
gyuvin is like you DIDN’T know? and then you learn about every single time gunwook has gotten jealous and then told him + yujin + ricky about it
apparently it was so obvious to the boys that hanbin literally asked him about it
you’re flabbergasted 
so then you approach gunwook like “wtf is this?” and he’s like
“oh yeah”
what do you mean OH YEAH?
you’re actually so shocked
gunwook isn’t the type to get jealous of the boys though like that just straight up won’t happen
doesn’t matter who you’re talking to, how much time you spend with them, etc
he knows they’d never pull something with you ever so you could literally go on a remote vacation to the amazon rainforest with NO cell service with like hanbin and he wouldn’t give a shit
TAERAE WAS BUSY, which meant you’d dragged Hanbin along with you to go shopping for Christmas presents for the boys. You’d been dating Gunwook long enough that you felt like it was a good way to show gratitude for them, and Hanbin agreed to take you to the mall to get the gifts.
Of course, you couldn’t take Gunwook, because you were planning on buying a good chunk of his gift, too, which meant you hadn’t told him where you were going. So, when he called, you were somewhat apprehensive to pick up.
Hanbin, on the other hand, looked terrified.
“Can I come over? I’m bored,” he asked, and you held back the urge to laugh as you stared at Hanbin, who looked like he’d seen a ghost.
“I’m Christmas-present shopping with Hanbin, actually. Sorry.”
Hanbin’s jaw dropped, likely at the fact that you just came right out with it, but you weren’t worried in the slightest. “Oh, okay. That’s cool. Have fun. Tell Hanbin I said hello.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too. Bye.”
He hung up, and Hanbin’s jaw dropped farther. “He just…doesn’t care? Like at all?”
You gave him an inquisitive look, as if you didn’t understand what he was implying. “Is he supposed to?"
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thank you for reading !
tags: @happysmileybee
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mactavishsgfandwife · 2 months
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Simon Riley x Curly Haired Reader
universally applicable to any curly girly (who wears her hair natural) 😋 pure fluff beautiful beautiful image from @ave661
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When you and Simon first started going out, he only ever saw you with straight hair - you were worried about spending the night with him in case he would see your natural hair after a shower, and find it ‘ugly’. It was silly, but it felt like your curls didn’t look like other curls, they were just… a mess. The first time Si saw your natural hair, he was immediately all over you, even though he’d only come round to pick up his phone. He got so distracted by you that he completely ‘forgot’ about the phone, and just had to visit you again the next day to get it.
Simon Riley who loves to sit and watch you doing your hair. If you two have to stay at a hotel for a special event, and he’s ready way before you (his military efficiency), he is very happy to sit on the bed and watch as you try to fix that one curl that won’t curl like the rest of your head. He has NO idea what you’re doing, like, completely clueless, but you look pretty doing it.
Simon Riley who genuinely thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. You’re hot with curly hair, with straight hair, you’d be hot with no hair - he really doesn’t care, he just loves you. That said, he does secretly have a soft spot for your curly hair. Something about the volume and the aura it gives you is so perfect. That’s his girl.
Simon Riley who lets you buy hair products with his money. He doesn’t care, he likes to spoil you, and he doesn’t understand what’s wrong with his 3-in-1 shampoo but he’s happy to indulge his pretty girl if it makes her happy.
Simon Riley who is GREAT at messing up your hair. It feels so nice and he always has to touch it, playing with a strand when you’re sitting on the sofa together or full on gripping it while you’re making out. He’s finally learnt that he can’t just rake his hands through it (once they actually got stuck) but that doesn’t stop him from constantly tucking your hair behind your ear or patting it when he has an arm around you .
Simon Riley who, failing that, loves to smell your hair. You tell him it’s weird but your products just smell so good!!! And they smell like you!! If you’re in the kitchen, he’ll hug you from behind, and (not so) secretly smell your hair as he mumbles something to you about something totally random or about how much he loves you. One or the other.
Simon Riley who hopes that your kids have curly hair just like their mummy. The idea of his girl carrying around a toddler with identical curly hair, in little pigtails or tiny braids, melts his heart. He’s a tough guy almost all of the time, he’d probably intimidate any other guy on the street by his size and general rough attitude but if you gave him a baby girl that looked just like you, he would be totally devoted. He’d even let her try to put pink hair clips in his short hair, or draw on his tattooed arms. The idea of watching you do your baby’s hair for them melts his heart.
Simon Riley with whom you once tried to do that cute couple thing where you draw each other, and though you did your best to make a realistic drawing of him, he drew you as a stick figure with loopy squiggles for hair and little hearts around you. He was really proud of it, too. Says he hopes your kids don’t inherit his artistic talent.
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i don’t know how many cod girlies have curly hair but i do!!! i wish i had a man to buy me nice products tbh
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sophiethewitch1 · 3 months
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What We Want - Chpt. 4 - Nightmares Too
In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe
(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!
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SUMMARY
Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.
Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?
As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.
And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.
Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?
(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)
PREV - NEXT
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“You wanna get out from under there?”
What sort of question is that? Of course, you don’t. You’re going to live here now. You’re never leaving this tiny, cramped space till you rot away and die. The stained underside of some IKEA desk was your new home.
Well, since your actual home was seeming less and less like an option. Which kinda sucks, because you’re feeling surprisingly possessive of your stuff. You don’t want fancy dresses or bubbly champagne, you want your ratty couch and the neighbour’s cat that liked to visit in the middle of the night. Your mother was right, you were the type of person to never be happy no matter what. You could appreciate the food, though.
Shaking, trembling, knees clutched to your chest, you look up. Slowly, because you’ll probably piss yourself if you don’t.
Now that you weren’t holding his hand, the vigilante known as Red Hood was much, much scarier. He was sitting on the carpeted floor with you, but he still somehow looked incredibly menacing. You preferred his old look, honestly. The helmet had less ‘grim reaper’ vibes. The hood and metal face mask made him seem like a cyborg assassin, or something equally terrifying. He was terrifying.
Still, you could appreciate the insane sort of hilarity of this situation. The notorious crime fighter and crime committer was sitting here with you, crossed legs, twiddling his thumbs away. You press your face into your hands, laugh, and then scream. The sound is muffled, but he probably still hears the exciting new phase of your breakdown.
“Don’t…” your voice cuts off, you have to think before you can manage to speak again, “Don’t you have something better to be doing?”
His giant shoulders shrug.
“I’ve got time.”
Did he? You don’t know how long you’d been up here, how long you’d been sitting here either. You’d fallen asleep, despite your desperate fight not to, so it could be anywhere between 10 to the next day. Had you missed midnight? God, you hoped not.
That stupid little ritual is what convinces you to leave. Not common sense, not the Hood, not your desperate desire to get home and sleep. No, it’s the image of your mother’s tired smile, the city in the background as you wish her another happy birthday after a long day of work. It’s a memory you’re not willing to give up, even if you technically already made your wish.
You’d lived this awful day twice. You got to blow out your candles twice, too.
Slowly, surely, you climb out from under the desk. Red Hood is quiet, careful. He doesn’t move apart from a subtle shift in his hood, suggesting he’s watching you. He’s acting like you’re a wild animal or something, like he might scare you off, or might prompt you to attack.
If he tries anything, you will. It doesn’t matter that he could snap your neck like a twig. Maybe he’s right to act that way, you’re feeling pretty feral right now. Half giving him your back, you turn the monitor for the computer on. It’s Wayne property, so you think you technically have some right to it. It’s not like you’re going to hack it or anything, you just need it to-
11:48.
“Thank god,” you sigh, relieved. Still, you’re not out of the woods yet. You needed at least a lighter, hopefully, a candle and a desert of some kind too. There were lots of cakes downstairs, if you felt you could do it. Big ‘if’ there. The mental breakdown was still well underway. And not everyone could dodge a punch like Red Hood could. Knowing you, you’d probably get sued for millions if you accidentally snapped at some poor rando.
Let’s start small. You wrench open the office’s drawer and start rooting around. You find lots of things, a Wayne Enterprises-themed stress toy, a kid’s drawing of them and their parent holding hands, and a surprising amount of hand cream, but no lighter. You slam the drawer closed and move to the next one.
“Hey, what are you doing?” his voice rumbles out, and your head snaps around.
You look down. Right. This is probably illegal. You were rooting through someone else’s private property. Of course, it wasn’t the first time you’d done something like this, but it was definitely the first time you’d done it in plain view of a vigilante.
Crap. You hadn’t thought. That was your entire night, summarised.
“Uh, this is… Do you have a lighter?” you ask, wincing. You don’t really like the mask he’s wearing. Apart from being so intimidating, you’re shaking like a wet chihuahua, it’s also impossible to tell what he’s thinking through it. The domino mask, the metal face mask and the voice changer completely hid any emotion. Full coverage and all.
The helmet probably would’ve made that even harder. You’d still prefer it. This guy's creepy.
“You smoke?” he responds, slowly but surely getting to his feet. You back up quickly, pressing yourself to the wall of the cubicle. Red Hood pauses and then moves even slower. He’s careful not to frighten you any more than already.
This was all really strange. One of the strangest things that had ever happened to you. And you might’ve woken up this morning in an alternate dimension. Or something, you had zero clue what was going on. God, you really wished you’d paid more attention in science class. You’d thought Mr Gregory was crazy, but he’d gotten the last laugh.
“I don’t,” you clench your sweaty fists tight, “Maybe I should.”
“Don’t get started, it’s impossible to stop,” Red Hood says, digging into his pocket for something. You freeze, but relax again when he hands you a scuffed metal lighter.
Holding it close to your chest, you whisper a thank you to him. He nods his head in acknowledgement.
This was really weird. You couldn’t say it enough.
“I hate you,” you state because you sort of have to. Even when he’s being nice to you, helping you. It’s an obligation. You have to make sure that despite the show of good faith he was offering, you were certainly feeling no such thing.
“I figured,” he replies, which like- What the fuck? Does this make absolutely zero sense to anybody else? You’re not sure what about your panic-stricken tears and desperate hand-holding made you seem hateful, but you could work with it.
Maybe all the feelings you push down are starting to show. You ignore how worried that makes you because you’ve had enough for today. Today was more than e-fucking-nough.
You were going to find a cake and a candle, and you were going to make your wish. Again, because life sucks. You were going to finish this horrible day again because life sucks. And hopefully, you’d wake up tomorrow… tomorrow, not today.
You weren’t sure if you would. Life sucks, right?
You look the Red Hood in his creepy glowing red eyes and say, “I think I’m losing my fucking mind.”
“That’s not good.”
“No, I don’t think it is.”
There’s quiet between you two for a moment. You think he’s staring at you, trying to figure you out. He knows you hate him, but you’re… well, you’re too tired to be angry right now. You just want to go to sleep. You just want this damn day to end. Tomorrow you’d go back to hating all the vigilantes of Gotham with a fiery passion, but today…
Well, you wouldn’t call it peaceful, whatever this situation is. Maybe it’s understanding. He seems understanding, for some reason. You don’t really want to think about that.
You just wanted to hate him. It was easier that way. Then you didn’t have to hate yourself so much.
“I’m going to go find some cake and a candle. It’s my birthday and I haven’t made a wish.”
Red Hood nods, “I could eat.”
That wasn’t an invitation, but whatever. Guess you’re blowing out your candles for your twenty-first with… this guy. Better than yesterday, which was with nobody but yourself and your trashy TV. Or, well, the first today.
You really think you are losing your mind. Whatever, whatever, let’s worry about it later.
After one of the most awkward and uncomfortable elevator rides of your life, squished into a corner as Red Hood took up the lion’s share of space, you find yourself back on the first floor. It’s chaos. The gorgeously decorated gala is now in rubble, and people are rushing around with the sort of fear you’d expect after the fucking Joker showed up.
He wasn’t here, which was good. It was important to focus on the good.
First responders flit around the space, checking the people who seem worse for wear and the rich bastards who think they’re more important than the service workers who are cut or bruised. All the food tables have been knocked over, the waste of it making you upset. Of course the Joker wastes food, he’s gotta be the evilest man on earth or something. It’s not just the interior that’s been destroyed, either. The giant gothic windows have been shattered inward, and broken glass covers the entire floor space. Red and blue lights flash through the gaping holes, bits of glass still attached to the stone sending it cascading across the walls.
You look down. You’re missing your shoes.
“You can’t walk on that,” Big Red says, which like, duh.
“I know that,” you mutter, looking around for another way. Ah, good, there’s a staff entrance over there, which you think probably leads to the kitchen-
“I could carry you.”
You give him a disturbed look and he shrugs. Pointing to the ‘staff only’ door, you wish you had the strength to tell the guy to fuck off. He feels like a babysitter or something.
“I’m going in there.” ‘Please don’t follow me.’
He follows you, because of course, he does.
Lucky for you, the staff entrance leads straight to the kitchen. Even luckier, there’s absolutely nobody here to witness you lose your mind. There are also lots of dishes waiting to be served, already plated and perfect. This is a professional kitchen, but it was your birthday so you have to assume they’d have had candles or a cake prepared.
You walk through the giant kitchen, and Red Hood hangs back. He leans against the doorway, crossing his tree-tunk-esque arms and glowering. Nowhere can do a scary hero like Gotham can. He was really messing with your vibe, which wasn’t all that great in the first place.
Your eyes rove over the platters, head snapping back when you spot a tiny set of confectionaries at the back. Cupcakes, three in total. They don’t match the rest of the other high-quality foods, but you know they’re the ones you want anyway. You hope this didn’t belong to someone else, and promise to pay them back… somehow. You’d write a note or something, leave your number behind.
You were rich now. You’d have preferred the lottery instead of all this. What’s the saying, ‘beggars can’t be choosers?’ You’d certainly been begging.
It’s a struggle to reach the back of the counter without knocking any of the other food. You grab the plate, lift it up and over, and then set it back down on an empty stretch of countertop.
You look over the three cupcakes, trying to pick one. There’s one that’s a dark raspberry pink. A pink that’s a little too dark, actually. Almost… reddish. You glance over your shoulder at the devil lurking behind you, wince, and decide you’re going for the blue cupcake. You think this might’ve also been one of Sam’s favourite colours. It would’ve been at some point, at least.
Now, candles. This might be the hard part, but it’s the most important one. Again you start rooting through some stranger’s property, and Red Hood just watches silently. It’s weird. This whole situation is weird. You’re tired and confused and you’re half convinced you’re dreaming it all, but… but you’re definitely starting to think this might be real.
And that’s fucking scary. So, back to candle hunting. They had to have some, it was your birthday. Maybe, you were pretty sure. Somehow the worst day of the year had happened twice because God knows you had some shit luck. You’d really like some solid answers, instead of just ‘maybe!’. And for some reason, you really didn’t think you’d be getting them anytime soon.
Ah, shoot. You found your candle. It’s one of those giant ‘Happy Birthday’ cake toppers, all loopy and connected words. Your cupcake is way too small, and your candle is way too big. Well, you’re nothing if not resourceful. When you bend the candle, the wax snaps easily under your grip. You’re left with a capital ‘H’ and under that the ‘B’ and little ‘i’ and ‘r’ from the beginning of birthday. Good enough, you suppose.
You stick the crumbly, glittery monstrosity on top of the stolen cupcake, and swipe the lighter again. The letters sag to the side, and you nudge them back into balance.
You glance down at the ovens, reading the bright neon numbers. 11:57.
You wait, flicking the lighter open and closed. The metallic click, the rhythm of the movement, it settles you a bit.
“Why are you waiting?” Red Hood pipes up, breaking that comfortable silence. At least he doesn’t come any closer, still lingering half in the room, half not.
“It has to be midnight,” you answer, wishing him away. This is your thing. You didn’t want anybody here for it, didn’t want anybody else’s presence tainting this piece of your mother’s memory. You were greedy for it, not eager to share.
You were sharing today. There’s a part of you that wants to scream and rant at the man who for some unknown reason simply will not leave, but you imagine your mother’s frowning face, and you can’t do it. She’s the angel on your shoulder (nagging, nagging, nagging) compared to your usual devil-inclined self. She was always insisting you needed to be a better host, be nicer to people. Maybe make more friends. And after she’d gone, you’d tried, you really, really had.
But Red Hood was an altogether different matter. Everything they were, everything they represented, was an altogether different matter.
You were obsessed with the Waynes. And in a different, more bitter, spiteful, malicious way, you were obsessed with the Bats, too.
You weren’t going to be friends with Red Hood. You hated him, despised him. Mum always said you needed to get better at forgiving people. You disagreed, but just… maybe just for today, you wouldn’t make him leave.
You could glare at him, though. You felt that was fair enough. He ignores your narrowed eyes like a seasoned professional. Bet he’s had a lot of people hate him. Bet he deserves it.
“It’s 11:59,” he tells you, and you stop glaring at him to light the candle.
The light is weak, barely able to touch you. Still, it’s strong enough to get rid of those tiny glimpses of red and blue police lights, to keep away the darkness for just long enough. You sigh into the light, absorbing it into yourself. You’d always thought the world was too dark, and you hated winter when you’d lose the sun. So like you had to hate the dark, you had to love this light. This tiny little candle, burning away.
“What’re you gonna wish for?”
You stare at the flickering flame. It twitches back and forth. Casts light into the kitchen. Mesmerises you. It’s barely alive, and you’re about to put it out before it can even start. It could’ve been some great fire, some city-destroying blaze. And you’re going to kill it. Kill it before it can kill you, can kill everyone here. Kill it before it could have ever hoped to live, to thrive.
Just a baby. Just a little, little baby.
It doesn’t deserve it. That never seems to matter. It never mattered before.
“The Joker to die.”
You exhale, blowing the light out and sending the kitchen into darkness. When you manage to find the light switch and turn it on, the room is empty. It’s just you, your cake, and your tears. Your hands clench, and then you realise you’re still holding it.
You still have the Red Hood’s lighter. He left without it.
Well, finder’s keepers, right?
-
You’re shaking in the back of the ambulance, the blanket wrapped around your shoulders not enough to keep out the Gotham night’s chill. You don’t really remember how you got here, to be honest. Everything’s pretty goddamn blurry. You were talking to a vigilante, a red one. Not down here, staring up at the Wayne Tower. You remember his face in the shifting candlelight. Did you blow out your candles with him? That was a fucking crazy thought.
And now the Bruce Wayne has a hand on your shoulder. You don’t remember when he arrived. He’s talking with the paramedic, chatting over the top of your head. There words are going in one ear and out the other, it’s alien for as much as you can understand. You want to shake his hand off, you don’t want anyone touching you right now. Especially not a stranger.
Even if it was a guy you had owned a fan Twitter for. Those were the darkest days of your past. Even more so than the time you’d totally thought about jumping in front of the Gotham subway. You’d only not done it because you’d have felt bad for wasting other commuters' time. What were you doing? Ah, right.
In the end, you don’t shove him off, because you don’t know if you can move other than blink. Even that’s against your will. Your eyelashes are fluttering randomly, eyes flicking around the interior of the ambulance. You’re barely conscious. And you doubt you’ll remember any of this later, either. You can feel the memories slipping away, the drain at the back of your mind sucking up the fear and bad thoughts and leaving you blank and empty. Numb, safe, but numb.
The paramedic’s mouth moves. You don’t think she’s talking to you, which is good. You can’t hear her over the ringing in your ears. She does some final checks, and then she’s off to the next person.
The two of you are left to silence, to watch the rest of the world in its chaos. You feel like there’s a barrier, a pane of glass, between you and the other people here. Like your TV screen, really. The paramedic goes to a woman and her son. The woman seems fine, but the son has a long gash on his arm. She’s screaming, he’s crying, and the paramedic is handling it all with calm professionalism. You wanted to start screaming too.
You glance at a man in a suit yelling at another first responder, spittle flying into the air with his rage. You think he’s one of the ones you saw earlier in the ballroom. His suit is still perfect, and he doesn’t have a speck of blood on him. Even his hair is still perfectly brushed and coiled.
You looked like a drowned rat in comparison.
“…Are you alright?” The question breaks the silence, and you slowly turn to look up at Bruce.
Well, that’s the dumbest question you’ve ever heard. You thought Bruce Wayne was supposed to be brilliant. Maybe he’s just feeling bad because of the new trauma he’s gifted you tonight? It wasn’t his fault. As most of your mental health issues stemmed from, it was the Joker’s fault.
“No,” you answer, and he nods stiffly. Great chat.
He huffs out a sound of frustration, lifting the hand on your shoulder. Immediately, some of the tension in you seeps out. You hope he doesn’t notice. You think he probably does.
Someone calls out your name. Your head turns to the crowd. They call out your name again, this time closer, and you call back. You’re sort of surprised when a crying Jeanine pushes out of the throng of people. She’s a mess, her hair out of her pristine bun, her suit missing its jacket, and her glasses cracked. Seems she didn’t have a very nice time either.
You look down. She’s also missing her shoes. It’d be kind of gross, walking around on Gotham’s streets barefoot, if you could manage to give a shit. You’re still restarting, however, and all energy is going towards not crying again. You’re failing. Awfully bad, at that.
Whatever. Gotta try.
Panting, Jeanine places her hands on her knees, “I’m so, so sorry.”
It takes a moment for you to load the words through your Windows XP brain, but when you do, you’re more confused than you were a second ago.
“What? Why are you sorry?” you say, for a second imagining Jeanine as one of the people that attacked you.
“Because you wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t… hadn’t forced you to come…” Jeanine’s voice trails off, a look of horror on her face. Ah, she’s noticed Bruce. Apparently, she’s quite afraid of the man. You feel a sense of camaraderie towards the woman. God knows how many times you’d worn the exact same expression talking to one of your own bosses.
And then, well, then you usually got fired. It’s not looking good for her.
“Mister Wayne! I didn’t see you there, apologies!” she says, straightening her shoulders.
“Jeanine, it’s good to see you. Are you well, have you checked with the paramedics yet?”
“I have, Sir. Thank you for worrying about me,” Jeanine answers, with a healthy dose of hero-worship in her voice. You can’t judge, you’d be staring all starry-eyed at Bruce if you weren’t falling asleep where you sat. Apparently, traumatic experiences make you sleep. Who would’ve thought?
Like you hadn’t experienced this scenario a thousand times before. First time with fucking Bruce Wayne standing right next to you, though.
“Of course, I would. You’re one of my people,” he says, giving her a warm smile. Jeanine physically sags with relief at his words, because it sounds like she’s probably not getting fired tonight.
Bruce gets a notification on his phone, hums, and then slides it back into his pant pocket.
“Jeanine, we’re going back together to the manor tonight,” Bruce continues. Also, you were? Nobody mentioned that to you, and certainly nobody asked you about it. Well, fuck what you want, right? Who cares if you desperately want your cramped apartment in the Narrows, you’re getting shipped off to the fucking Wayne Manor of all places.
You just go along with it. Just go along with it. Wayne Manor probably has lots of nice, plush beds, and you’d kill for a pillow and some ambient rain sounds right now.
Bruce looks off to the side, where Tim is on the phone. They make eye contact, Bruce nods, and then turns back to the two of you.
“I’ll be right back. You two stay here, do not go anywhere,” he commands, king of the castle.
There’s quiet between the two of you. Jeanine squirms under your gaze, obviously guilty. You think back over her words, and then you groan.
“Jeanine. Jeanine, did I not have to go to this fucking party?”
Jeanine is quiet. She’s too fucking quiet.
“Jeanine?” your voice is shaky, and you have to bite the inside of your lip to force yourself not to tear up again. It was getting kind of embarrassing, honestly. You did not cry this much. Usually. This was not a usual day, of course. You’d been Ground Hog Day-ed into another reality… you think.
“No, Ma’am, you didn’t need to go. You’re… you used to be a Wayne, and even if you’ve parted from the name, you still have the power that comes with that. You did not have to come tonight,” she says, sounding remorseful and afraid. And maybe she should be.
If you had as much power as she said, you could probably fire her. You press your hands into your face.
“I thought you said you’d quit if I didn’t go,” you grind out, digging your fingers into your eyes, clawing into your already ruined makeup.
“I was lying, Ma’am. As I always do. I’m sorry,” she apologises. None of this makes any sense, and neither does she. Why would she lie? Why is this normal? What is the new normal, and how are you supposed to hide if you don’t know how to blend in?
You realise that you’re falling into old habits instinctively. That maybe you should say something about all this, or at least that you have some weird form of amnesia. You don’t, though. You’re scared, you’re far too scared.
“Well how- I thought you were serious this time!” you cry out, stuttering over your own lies, flinging your hands from your face. Jeanine winces at you. It’s probably the dried mascara running down your face in black rivulets, making you look like an odd mix between a raccoon and a banshee.
You’d seen your reflection in the ambulance’s side mirror. It had almost been as scary as the Joker’s goons. Almost.
“…Please, please don’t fire me,” she begs, her hands clasped tight in front of her.
You realise you probably should for an admittance like that. This was too complicated, this woman and her non-existent relationship with you was far too complicated. You also realise that whoever ran this stupid body before was very used to Jeanine’s baseless threats, and it wouldn’t be at all fair to her. And she seems quite desperate for this job. Which really doesn’t make much sense, because she seems quite important, and she’s working for you, someone else who seems quite important.
God if you fucking knew. You were quickly discovering you didn’t know shit.
“I won’t, just… just don’t say anything about this to anyone, okay? I’m…” you sigh, uncertain what to do, what to say, “I’m having a hard time.”
“Thank you, thank you so, so, so much. I’ll pay you back, I won’t do it again, I’ll do whatever you ask me to-”
“That’s enough, please. I just… I’d like some quiet,” you cut her off, closing your eyes and shuffling back in the ambulance. You cut yourself off from the rest of the world, hide your head behind your knees, and try to ignore the flashing lights and yelling voices. The ambulance shifts weight slightly as Jeanine sits beside you. She’s not too close to feel uncomfortable, just toeing the line.
Bruce comes back, looking over the two of you. He seems sombre, but you’re not sure why. Is it the entire night? Did something bad happen again? Is it just how miserable the two of you look? You don’t care enough to ask.
You just don’t care.
You tune out of their conversation again, even knowing it might be important. When Jeanine leaves, and Bruce invites you to a black car, you follow silently. He opens the door, and after a moment’s hesitation, you follow him in.
He knocks on the panel separating the two of you from whoever’s driving the car, and like a well-oiled machine, the car pulls out of the traffic and the paparazzi and out onto the street. Must be nice. You bet Jeanine is going to have to walk home.
Ah, wait, you’re one of them now. You’re one of those ‘must be nice’ types. Weird. You kept forgetting, somehow. Even with Gotham’s prince sitting next to you. Weird.
“I want you to stay at the manor for the night,” Bruce says, and you nod, barely listening. You’re barely conscious, far too tired to understand the implications of the words he was saying. If there were any, like you said, you couldn’t tell.
You’re watching the city go by, the light streaming past in a blur of colours. You rest your head in your hand, your elbow on the armrest. Even with you pressing your face to the glass, you can’t see the sky. The buildings stretch too high. And even if you could, it wasn’t like you’d see anything aside from some late-night flights. The Gotham light pollution and the smoke-filled sky would see to that.
Bruce doesn’t say anything else after that. You’re grateful for the quiet.
You squeeze your eyes shut, and maybe in some act of self-harm, try to remember what happened tonight. Try to pick through your thoughts, and understand whatever happened. That man… that horrible man. He disappeared into thin air. Gone, just gone.
And your world had changed. You’d gotten richer, more powerful. And yet, and yet… you knew this feeling. You knew this weakness. You knew what it meant when you looked in the mirror and you saw something barely alive.
You knew what grief looked like.
You want to rip out your own hair and chew off your own skin. It didn’t make any sense, and you felt crazier and crazier by the second. And none of it made sense, and yet, you had the worst feeling. An omen, a dark cloud. Something worse than the Joker, something that made even less sense.
Even in this life, were you alone? That wasn’t fair. That didn’t make any sense. That didn’t make any sense at all.
Your voice is quiet in the car. Her voice is quiet in the car.
“Do you know where my Mum is?” a little girl asks the big, strong man, her tiny body dwarfed by the black leather of the car. She’s out of place, out of time. She doesn’t fit here.
She doesn’t think she ever has.
The big, strong man, the hero, stays silent, his face hidden by the darkness. The little girl sobs, cries, wails. She wants her mum back. She wants her family back. And now, she wants her life back.
All have been stolen from her.
Maybe she was dreaming. Maybe she was dead. Maybe you were dreaming. Maybe you were dead. Maybe this was another world, and both you and her now have to navigate another lonely place. At least you’d do it together, hand in hand.
It didn’t matter. You knew where you needed to be.
“I want to see it.”
You need to see it. You grasp desperately at Bruce’s arm, nails digging into his expensive and ruined suit. Begging him, pleading him.
He says something. You think it’s a ‘what?’
“I want to see their graves. I want to see my mother’s grave.”
Bruce’s face darkens, and you’re too tired, too exhausted to tell what emotion flits across it. You wonder if it’s the same desperation you feel. But it confirms it. They’re dead. They’re still dead. Despite everything, despite the entire world changing for you, the most important part had been forgotten.
They were still dead. And you were still here. Alone.
“Tomorrow. Tomorrow, but for tonight, you need to rest,” he promises you, and your hand releases. You watch your palm hang limply in your lap, and for a second, it doesn’t seem like your hand. Bruce starts speaking again, this apologetic, pitying tone. You can’t stand it. You can’t stand it one bit.
And in the rudest, most cowardly thing you’ve ever done, you cover your ears like a child.
The rest of the car ride passes in a blur of colour and sound. You’re in Gotham, driving away from the Tower, you’re at the edges of town, passing over one of the bridges, you’re driving through New Jersey’s countryside, passing green fields and old buildings. You go by the iron-wrought gates of Wayne Manor, up the alley’s winding entryway, and finally, the car rolls to a stop in front of the stairs.
To Mr. Wayne’s credit, he doesn’t open the fucking door for you again. You get to stumble your way out on your own two stubborn legs, swaying drunkenly, sickly. He waits for you at the stairs, and you ignore the arm he offers you. He’s just as blindingly irritating as his son.
Didn’t you like these people? You would again in the morning, you just needed your hate. It was the only thing keeping you going at this point. Pure rage was fueling you as you climbed those steps. You’re panting, but you don’t really know why. They’re not that tall.
You feel weak. You feel so, so weak. And you hate it. You’d worked so hard to be free of it, even when you longed for it like a toxic ex-lover, you’d pushed it away. And now it had it’s fangs wrapped around you again, and again, you’d have to climb out of hell.
Today, it was more literal. Tomorrow? God fucking knows. People were literally vanishing from thin air, Pete’s sake. You’ll try, of course. But god fucking knows.
A butler opens the door, and Bruce enters. Once you follow in, the butler closes the door behind him. This time, you really do try to hear what they say. It’s impossible. You concentrate, but all you get for your hard work is a headache. Tomorrow, you’ll try again tomorrow.
The butler rushes off, something important and butler-y to be done. You really didn’t know what butlers did. You couldn’t imagine what their jobs were other than cleaning and cooking. Accounting? Did butlers do accounting?
“I need to handle some things. Will you be able to find your old room alright?” Bruce asks, interrupting your increasingly inane thoughts.
You blink, at him stupidly. Because you were stupid. You had a brand to keep.
“Yes,” you lie. You don’t really know why you do. Some odd mix of self-protective instincts, exhaustion-induced delirium, and also a deep desire to be alone. You really, really wanted to be fucking alone.
“Goodnight then,” Bruce says, he pauses like he’s going to say something else, but he doesn’t. He’s done that twice now, you think. Maybe he just doesn’t think you’re worth the effort. He’d be right.
You watch his back as he strides off into the darkness of the manor, leaving you shivering in the empty foyer. Your expensive ballgown is tattered, grimy, and worst of all, bloody. You want to get out of it. And then you want to sleep.
The click of his dress shoes fades, and you’re left wondering what the fuck you’re going to do next. Could you just start storming into random empty rooms? Where would you find any clothes? You were not going to sleep in this dress, no way.
So, you start up the grand staircase and start storming into random empty rooms. You find studies, bathrooms, and bedrooms. None that seem like anyone lives in them, of course. They feel like fancy hotel stays, the type you see online and sigh about.
The house, no, the manor, is quiet. Empty. It feels haunted, honestly. It probably was, a building this old and important. And it wasn’t like you didn’t know about Martha and Thomas Wayne. You didn’t think any Gotham native didn’t know about them, about the tragedy that had struck them.
It made Bruce seem like someone real, someone like you. Because if even the billionaires could get shot in alleys in Gotham City, it made more sense when the poor folks died. Like you were all human like God didn’t play favourites.
But, let’s be honest, you’d prefer to be an orphan in a mansion than the Narrows. Bruce Wayne had time to heal after what happened to him, for you it was from the frying pan to the fire.
The orphanage you’d been in for two years before you’d turned eighteen and been kicked out had had a very strict hierarchy. Probably still did, you never went back to check. It was technically a foster home, but the ancient sign beside the front door spoke differently. ‘Gotham Orphanage - Founded by Alan Wayne 1878’, the mark of the Waynes even found there. You used to touch the sign every time you went past it like it was some odd good luck charm. You still owe that sign your first successful job interview. Like you didn’t touch the copper plate every damn day, including every day you’d failed another interview.
And, well, it was Gotham. It wasn’t a good place. It had long been cemented in your mind that those theories that Gotham was cursed were true. That there wasn’t any other explanation.
You pause in your musings when you find a room that actually looks like it might be lived in. A long time ago, you think, from the dust covering the shelves. When you check the closet, you find men’s clothes, also untouched. You hope whoever lives here doesn’t care if you steal their shit, because you certainly don’t. Oh wow, this bathroom is gorgeous. The tub is gigantic, easily able to fit a group of at least six, maybe more. Still, you want to go to sleep more than you want a nice soak, so you go for a quick shower where you get rid of all… all the blood.
You watch the red run down the drain and are brought back to much simpler times.
Even as one of the older kids, you were still new blood. You hadn’t made any friends when you tried to defend the younger, weaker kids, either. The foster ‘parents’ who didn’t let you call them anything other than Mrs and Mr Hemming didn’t care about any abuse that happened under the house, as long as it wasn’t visible. You’d done this ritual before, but it actually had been your blood. It hadn’t hurt as much as this did, for some unknowable reason.
You weren’t a fighter. The very few punches you did take, you never hit back. Not like you had tonight. You’d been terrified the Hemmings would kick you out, stop feeding you. Still, you never moved, either. Never let the others take their anger out on the younger kids. You couldn’t do it. And now, looking back on it, your fear of the Hemmings retaliating was stupid. They’d needed the funds the foster caring gave them, and they were always trying to take in more and more kids.
They were empty threats. You were a terrified child. The what-ifs didn’t really matter anymore.
And maybe you were a bleeding heart type, like the other kids had said. Maybe you were gullible, naive, and a pushover. Like you hadn’t been through all the bullshit everyone else had. Like you being nice and hopeful and all those things that got you picked on weren’t all deliberate choices. One day, all the anger and rage you had would bubble over. It would destroy you and your life in a catastrophe, not unlike the one that took your family.
You’d already pushed it down so many times. Waking up today, in a different, unfamiliar world, had probably just made it worse. As always, you ignore it. It’s not worth worrying about.
Getting out of the shower, you do a very lazy towel off and then grab that mystery man’s clothes. They’re mostly dress suits, but you find a few old T-shirts. It hangs off you like a curtain, but it’s warm and it smells nice. Minty and earthy and… oddly free. Bouncy, alive, but still calming and relaxing. It’s a nice counter to the corpse vibes you’re rocking right now, which is decidedly un-alive and un-calm.
You wonder what it would’ve been like to mourn in safety. Where you didn’t have to worry if someone would steal your portion of food or the few funds you could hide in the garden. Where the glares of others didn’t constantly dig into your skin, reminding you that you weren’t wanted there. That you never would be.
That was alright. The place had stunk of mould and rat shit anyway. And maybe you had in this life. It didn't look like you were doing much better, anyway. No, this version of you somehow looked worse. You didn't know how it was possible, and then you remind yourself that none of this is possible, and you really ought to let go of that word.
Still, you lived in Gotham. You would always live in Gotham. You couldn’t leave, it was your home. It was a part of you, like every other sorry idiot who still lived here. School shootings, bomb threats, the city’s regular ol’ disasters. Even if you had been put in a good foster home, even if you had lived... here, you doubted your life would’ve been that much better. Of course, you were still bitter about it. Couldn’t the world just take a little bit off your plate? Maybe it was now, maybe this was the universe's way of saying sorry. A fancy, but empty house, with a still dead family. Maybe you were a little too greedy, a little too jealous.
You slide the duvet covers to the side, untucking them just like you do whenever you do stay in a crappy motel. When all the sides are thoroughly untucked, you slide underneath the covers. When your face lands on the pillow, you sigh in relief. Despite all the bullshit you’d suffered tonight, you had silk pillows, and this phone had youtube premium, so you could listen to rain sounds on it.
Safe. Sort of. Happy. Sort of. Alive. Sort of.
You told yourself it could be worse. And it could’ve been, so you kept on. Today, even after the night you’d had, you tell yourself it could be worse, again. At least the goon didn’t capture you, at least you didn’t actually see the Joker, at least you had a safe bed for the night, at least…
At least the Batman didn’t rescue you. You know it’s silly, but you can’t help but think it.
You hated him almost as much as the Joker, which was saying something since you regularly daydreamed about ripping that man limb from limb. Because the Bat refused to do anything about the supervillain, to finally put the mad dog down, you would always hate him. There wasn’t any other option. You sort of hated his entire entourage. Even Red Hood a bit, since even if they constantly fought, it was obvious both of them held back when dealing with each other. Still, you hated Red Hood and Robin a little less, after tonight. You kind of owed it to them.
You didn’t want to. You wanted to hate them and keep hating them till you died. It was one of your little things, the little things you couldn’t let go of. The little things that hinted at your less-than-perfect sanity. You felt that if you ever forgot what they’d done, what they kept doing every day, that you’d be disrespecting your family, forgetting some part of them. Some part of their memory, which you greedily hoarded away. Not a single precious recollection was to be lost, not ever.
You weren’t allowed to move on. Weren’t supposed to. Sometimes the many little rules you’d made for yourself felt like they were going to eat you alive. A swarm devouring its master. Swallowing you down bit by bit. Up and up, eating all the parts of you pushed down.
You wrap the blanket tighter around you, closing your eyes tight. Like if you tuck your feet inside the duvet, the monsters can’t get you. Your monsters can’t get you. Sometimes it felt like they were already feasting, and you just refused to feel it.
But only sometimes, right?
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MASTERLIST - NEXT
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steddielations · 6 months
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Flight of Icarus lore dump part 2:
Part 1 | Character List
- Wayne has a green thumb. He reads Gardener’s Weekly magazine. It doesn’t say what he grows, but it says he buys vegetables from the store so I’m going to say that gruff old man Wayne has the prettiest petunias in the whole trailer park.
- Eddie sneaks into the Hawk with his best friend Ronnie to watch action movies and thinks Snake Plissken, Han Solo and Conan the Barbarian are cool.
- Eddie talks for hours about the intricacies of Elven politics in Tolkien.
- Eddie read comics as a kid and hid them all over the house "like a little squirrel" under the bed, behind the nightstand, under the rug. Wayne found his Uncanny X-Men in the freezer between stacks of tv dinners. Also, "Hellfire Club" comes from these X-Men comics.
- Floor time! There's a part where Eddie is literally just lying on his back on his bedroom floor counting down from a million. When Wayne comes home, Eddie army crawls on his belly to the doorway to see him.
- Eddie reads Gormenghast paperbacks, gothic fantasy novels. It mentions that Wayne saved them from the house fire along with Eddie’s guitar. It never says how/when Eddie originally got his guitar.
- Eddie says lots of cc’s original songs have D&D references. It's implied that he writes them. One is called “Fire Shroud” after a spell
- Eddie is called Freak King at school and Munson Junior or just Junior around town and he hates all of it
- Eddie talks about having anxiety a lot and it's implied he has had panic attacks in the past
- Eddie is the lead singer and guitarist of cc. He started the band with Ronnie specifically because it was required to participate in the school talent show.
- Neither Wayne or Al graduated high school. When Eddie (temporarily) drops out, Al celebrates.
- Eddie doesn't cook. He doesn't even own a spatula. The smell of cooking in their house actually shocks him and gives him a deep longing for family meals, which Al uses to manipulate him
- Eddie jokes about being into Saturday Night Fever and strikes the pose a couple times.
- Eddie knows how to hotwire and how to pick locks. Al taught him this at the age of ten. Eddie is "disgusted" with himself any time he does either of those things.
- Eddie "drives like a monster" when he's upset about something.
- Eddie smokes cigarettes occasionally. Weed is mentioned a lot in the book but it never says anything about Eddie smoking it or doing any drugs. He either doesn't smoke much or he hasn't tried anything yet in the book. Also, he’s just now meeting Rick. But It’s pretty clear after everything he went through why he would start
- There's lots of mentions of PBR and Bud Light. Though Eddie says he doesn't like to drink after his shifts at the Hideout (where he's a barback). He mostly drinks off-brand Big Buy soda in the book (he calls it "pop")
- Eddie's parents were married on March 12th, 1966. The date is inscribed on the bottle of their wedding wine. Eddie asks what kind it is and Al says they only had 'red or white' kind of money
- Al breaks out the wedding wine (to manipulate Eddie, you guessed it) it's red wine and Eddie really, really likes it
- Eddie went to War Zone with his dad for supplies for the truck heist (spike strips, coveralls, etc)
- Eddie's band played Exciter by Judas Priest at the talent show. The song was only approved because they emphasized the "priest"
- There was another (?) talent show in Winter of 1981 where Eddie's band played "Prowler" and they were kicked off stage halfway through because the song was considered Satanic, and the PTA visited all their parents for trying to convert everyone to Satanism.
- Eddie imagines hitting his dad twice. Once with a glass bottle and once with a metal wrench. (He should've- oops who said that)
- The only hug Eddie gets in the book is when his dad first comes back, Eddie knows it's the first step in his cycle of showing up, using Eddie and leaving, but Eddie still accepts the hug and feels guilty for enjoying it.
- It's implied Eddie gets close to tears a couple times in the book, but the only time they actually spring up is when his mom's favorite song (from Muddy Waters) comes on in the truck radio while Eddie is doing the heist with his dad and feeling awful about it. Eddie has several flashbacks of dancing with her to this song, it seems like his happiest memory that he always returns to.
- Whenever Eddie is doing what his dad wants (hotwiring, charming a person into their plans) he puts on what he calls his "best Al Munson smile" and he's terrified that it will eventually take over his whole face. There's a part at the end where Eddie is sitting in a jail cell and says "All I want to do is tear my face off. If a new one grows in it's place, maybe it'll make me a different person. Someone who isn't such a complete fuckup."
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shiorilizzy · 27 days
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My thought about yandere Wriothesley
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My thought about yandere Wriothesley
I swear he has SO MUCH POTENTIAL!!
He may look like a gentleman, you can see him as a gentleman and he can even be a gentlemen
But be aware of how far he took to get revenge on his foster parents. He will do anything to get what he wants.
Well at least to you, he will be gentle and easy, not that brutal and bloody.
I have a feeling that Wriothesley will have eyes on good girls. You may be noisy or sassy, you may be silent and shy, but your eyes, your heart… They are so innocent… So pure… It’s utterly beautiful like crystal to him. The way you help others, the way you are not scared of his appearance.
He may notice you when you two are in the shop, both buying a big bag of tea, milk and sugar. He is surprised at that amount of tea and your shining aura.
His heart goes BANG when he sees you help a homeless boy, you defend him against those bad people.
You’re… kind… and brave. He loves your slight tremble, trying to act tough.
He is jealous of that boy. He is so lucky to have you protect him. Wriothesley wishes he had someone like you in the past, maybe his life would be a little sweeter.
Like a hunter set his eyes on the prey. He will find a way to approach you.
Even if you have a boyfriend or husband already, it doesn’t matter to him. Remember his material for talent upgrade? He need “Order”, not “Equity” (or Justice to me). And it’s right for you to become his lovely and only treasure.
Wriothesley is actually very human. He will not just snatch you into his place.
At least, he tried to be a normal boyfriend, a perfect lover to you. After all, he really wants an ordinary life like everyone else.
But later, things got ugly. He struggled so much to believe you or everyone, everything around you.
He suspected the man talked to you on the street that day. He thought your family, your friends were trying to separate you from him. He is scared that you’ll leave him someday, that he will lose something he treasured so much again.
That’s when he decided: You need to be placed somewhere he can watch, always.
Things got even worse if you wanted to break up with him. You’re done. There is a high chance that you will wake up with your leg broken, or cuff, depending on how bratty and cold-heart you were.
Well, he will bring you down with him no matter what.
If I have to describe Yandere Wriothesley in one word, I will say: manipulation.
I believe Wriothesley is hella good at manipulating. Do you see how he cornered Lyney till he lost control? This big shit will gaslight you to believe fish can walk.
He did say that he would feel bad if he kept a pet in the fortress because they could not see the sunlight. But he could train you to accommodate to the environment. That’s much easier.
He will act like he was not the one who kidnapped you but “just a little bit forceful invitation to live with him”.
He will be a gentleman, respect you, listen to you, even argue with you if you are too “fussy”, told you that you can be nicer to him.
Why he is doing those? Because he knows you’re a “good girl”
Sooner or later, your kind heart will make you doubt yourself that maybe you were too harsh on him.
Your innocent soul will soon feel guilty because every “hassle” you cause others to deal with.
Wriothesley, unlike most of yandere who just lock his darling in a room the whole day, he makes you busy all day, let you roam around the Fortress on your own. You’re his darling, his cute little pet, not his prisoner.
He needs to create a playground for you, so you don’t have time to be sad, angry, miss the upper world, or even think about escaping.
Luckily, he is the Duke, the Warden, and the fortress is out of Fontaine’s control. So technically, he is the King down here.
So darling, what do you want to do? Just name it and he will give you.
A baker? Prisoners will smile happily when receive your delicious food every day. A teacher? Those people will express how grateful they are to gain more knowledge thanks to you. An accountant or secretary? Wriothesley himself will gladly have you on his side, helping him with paperwork.
Even if you want to be a slut. You will be promoted from part-time slut to full-time slut. But only for him.
Whatever you want, name it and he will find a way.
See? Life is really good down here, right? You have a dream job, delicious food, pretty clothes, lovely people, and especially, a man who is loyal and loves you unconditionally. What could you ask more?
Slowly, even if you can escape, you will not do that because you’re having so much fun and peace in here.
After all, the Duke really wants to be loved, as much as he loves you. But being a skeptical person because of his trauma, he needs you to stay where he can watch you.
Sometimes, he will show you his weak side. That will kick your mother hen instinct, just like that day when you protect that weak boy.
Oh this sly wolf, he will do everything to get you.
But do not think you can get away with everything. You definitely don’t want to see him get mad ever again.
Let’s say, you escaped and got caught by him.
That man will let you sit and watch he torturing your partner in crime (of course you cannot do all the work yourself), let you hear their loud agony, see their body slammed hard on the ground.
The more you beg for them, the more torturing he will give them. Until you are trembling in fear and tears and whimpering.
Does the guiltiness eat you? That’s his intention. He just knows you too well.
That is just one of his tricks. He has plenty to use. After all, he lived for quite some time, and most of them were in the Fortress.
He usually hugs you in sleep. Don’t hesitate to put your head on his arm or sleep on his body. He LOVES those pressures.
I have a feeling he will hug you like a teddy bear. And when he needs to switch to the other side, he will just “move” you along with him.
Even when you guys are in a “bad term”, he will sleep and hug you no matter what. Wriothesley even snug his head in your neck, like a poor boy.
As if you WERE the one at fault!
Overall, Wriothesley will make your relationship become “normal” sooner or later. You will think that this is just a little “special”, a little extraordinary, a bit of spice in love that everyone has.
That staying here forever is normal
That his love is totally normal
That you love him
That you want to have a family with him.
Wriothesley is smart, he knows what he wants, and doesn’t really care about morals.
So it is impossible for you to escape since he set his eyes on you.
I would write about him in bed another day
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shadesoflsk · 2 months
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Hiiii!!!! I have an idea! Imagine like getting married to leon/going through the whole process of wedding shopping etc with him. Also do you think he would cry at a wedding? I love your works sm you're so talented I hope you have a great day/night! 💗
leon kennedy x gn reader
Anon... You don't know how much I enjoy thinking about Leon getting married and all those sappy things. It's like you read my mind. And thank you so much ueueue. I'm glad you like my works. <3
I feel like Leon would act really calm and collected in front of you. Even cracking some jokes about not having anything planned out for the wedding. But Dear God that is far from the truth. 
But first, let’s talk about everything before the whole preparation. Leon would definitely struggle to get the right ring size for you. Acting smooth? Not in his dictionary. At first, he’d try it when both of you are ‘sleeping.’ He once read someone could get the exact size by wrapping a string around his partner’s finger.
He tried.
It was unsuccessful. 
You either shifted in your sleep or he couldn’t get the right angle to wrap the thin string.
Ultimately, he just asked you to try some rings, just for funsies… Of course. 
Now, after the exhausting task of buying the ring and actually asking you to marry him, he'd be delighted to start organizing the wedding.
At first, he'd try to brush it off by saying that both of you should go with the flow, not to stress over the wedding. But his old-ass would discover Pinterest and a new world was presented for him. His favorite late-night activity would be searching for wedding ideas and he takes his job very seriously.
Glasses and all, he’d hold his cell phone so close to his face for you not to notice him. Poor guy doesn’t know that you can see through the reflection of them. Usually, he’d leave all the decorations to you, even when you two decided to move in together since he lacks creativity. But a wedding involves two people, and that day is just as special for him as it is for you.
Eventually, he understands he doesn’t need to feel bashful. All of his life has been surrounded by destruction and violence, he may as well indulge in the domesticity and the tranquility of finally settling down with someone he loves.
Leon is a foodie, so his favorite appointments are the ones in which both of you have to try the dishes you want to serve at your wedding. Growing up, he didn’t get to eat home meals, and even when he first started the Police Academy most of his meals consisted of takeouts or food he’d prepare himself. So the mere task of devouring those plates for the sake of the wedding was a great excuse.
He wouldn’t wear a suit and you wouldn’t force him either. However, that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t put some effort into how he looks. Part of the wedding planning included a visit to his most trusted barber! He’d definitely shave to look clean in the pictures, but his hair would remain the same.
Leon talks to you and shares his thoughts about the wedding reception. Flashy and showy types of settings aren’t his thing so he suggests going for a beach wedding. The suggestion soon turns into persuasion. He’d show you videos of people getting married on the beautiful Caribbean beaches, or some perfect attires for the beach.
“Oh, it seems that my phone is spying on me or something.” He glances a subtle look at you to see if you’re listening to him. By the tone of his voice, you already know what he is implying.
“Why is that?” And when you finally look at him, you see how his smiles get wider. Of course he got you.
“Because… YouTube won’t stop showing me beach wedding videos. How crazy it is, right?”
So, Leon’s pleas are heard and you decide to go for it. Although, something you both agree on is the fact that it needs to be private, just friends and family.
And yes, he definitely cries at the wedding. One thing he kept from his religious past is the vows, he promises you a future in which he is going to be next to you no matter what. So, in the middle of his speech, his voice would crack, a tiny bit. Clearing his throat he acts like nothing happened but everyone could notice how emotional he is.
Overall, Leon would be delighted to take this next step with you. The last thing he expected in his life was to find love in this messed-up world. And don’t get me started on how Leon would be as a husband because that man is husband material through and through! I’d write a whole essay just for him.
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whoistartaglia · 10 months
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Hi I’m kinda a boomer on tumblr so srry if I do this wrong or something
can I request a diluc taking care of injured reader (broken ribs, bones, yk the usual). He spends more time w/ you, buys you things to make u feel better, just him being the gentleman that he is ^^. And then when your injuries heal more, he helps you get used to physical activities and stuff like that.
Thank you! Have a great day
in sickness and in health
genshin men helping you recovery after an injury
diluc had to fight the urge to tell you he “told you so” after you returned home from a particularly dangerous adventure with quite a few bruises and fractures. he went white as a ghost when he saw you drag yourself back to the dawn winery, and even paler so when you nearly collasped in the doorway. needless to say, he spent the next few days right at your bedside—dressing your wounds, helping you take your medicines and healing salves. during this time, if you ask him if he’s been sleeping, he’ll look you dead in the eyes and tell you “you don’t want to know the answer.” when you do start to improve, diluc will actually leave your bedside for more than an hour. you’ll take a nap and wake up to an abundance of gifts and presents, and a bashful diluc explaining what each one is for. he’ll help you get back on your feet too, but is naturally weary if you want to go on another adventure right away—you just got better! what do you mean you want to go back out fighting and exploring? protest against this, and he might just need to drop the “i told you so” bomb.
childe makes himself nurse you back to health before hunting down the poor souls that did this to you. if you think you feel extra bloodlust radiating off of him at this time, you’d be right. he’s livid, truthfully, but he’s pushing that aside to be a good and caring partner to you. he’s unsurprisingly talented at bandaging your cuts and applying creams and salves—after all, he’s had a plethora of injuries of his own of which to take care. childe will feed you meals in bed and act as a crutch should you have difficulty moving about. growing up with siblings, he’s naturally adept at feeding you in bed and taking care of you in general. once you are back on your feet and kicking, and childe deems you can, in his words, “survive a couple days without his illustrious care,” he’s going to go out and find whoever did this to you. there’s a glint in his eyes that spells trouble, but he did just help you recover some rather nasty injuries, so you give him a pass.
kazuha will halt all his travels, cancel all his plans, stop anything and everything, when you get injured. it doesn’t really matter if it’s a papercut or broken bones; his care is always attentive and efficient. having traveled around the world, kazuha is rather knowledgeable about natural medicine and different healing practices from different cultures. he has an innate ability to care for you, and you’ll find yourself getting better within days, if not hours, depending on the injury. during this time, kazuha will remain at one location, and regale you with tales and stories of his previous travels as you recover. what helps is that he’s so gentle when tending to you and your wounds. this calm nature is even more reassuring once you do start to get moving again; his soft encouragement does wonders for sore muscles and lingering doubts. kazuha will never push you too hard, and for that your grateful. when you are fully recovered, you’ll resume your travels, though may hear kazuha call “be careful dear!” every so often.
dottore might groan and grumble when you show up at his office, scratches and bruised and broken, but he’s truly worried in his own way. he’ll take care of you by the books—medicine at this time every day, bandages changed every hour, three meals on rotation. if you ever complain about bitter medicine or him insiting you need rest, the most you’ll get out of him is a pointed glare and raised eyebrow. he’s basically telling you to suck it up without outright telling you (though he’s not terribly opposed to the idea). if you really don’t like it, he’ll experiment with trying to make it better, or at the very least, mix it with sweet tea or honey. as for rest, dottore won’t budge. he’ll explain in medicinal terms you can’t quite wrap your head around why you need sleep and use big words about why your body heals more when you’re asleep. when he finishes this lengthy explanation, he’ll find you actually fell asleep, which hurt his feelings, but got the job done, at least. the only practice not by the books is dottore laying down next to you and pulling you in his arms, but looking back on it, you think this made you feel best most of all.
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midnight-pluto · 4 months
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SPOILED!MEGUMI — headcanons
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megumi was raised by gojo, he’s bound to be spoiled one way or another
CHAR: megumi fushiguro, satoru gojo
PAIRING(S): megumi fushiguro x gn!reader (can be read as platonic)
A/N: this is a topic that isn’t discussed enough, so I’m writing it and potentially going to elaborate on some more later
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i would like to start off by saying i do not intend to paint megumi in a negative light by saying he’s spoiled — but i do intend on putting him in a goofy one
to be honest, megumi isn't that self-aware as he seems
y'all seen that one episode that inspired this post where yuji and nobara freak out over the price of gojo's shirt and question whether it's with tax or not and megumi deadass asks if tax matters? yea interpret that as you will
there is a decent chance that he doesn’t necessarily understand the value of money very well, which probably has something to do with the Gojo effect™️
ngl he probably said ‘print more money’ once and got attacked for it so he never said it again
but he's also so lowkey about it too like you would have never guessed that this boy would be as materialistic as gojo is
like he wears the same shit gojo does that's really expensive quality but doesn't have the brand name plastered onto it since he finds it tacky so you'll just never know unless he exclusively tells you
he also does have a talent of knowing what is good quality and what isn't; he would do great for those cheap vs. expensive videos
can also spot knock-offs from a mile away but never says anything about it since he doesn't have enough in him to care about that kind of stuff
so the first time both of you — including yuji and nobara — hangout at the mall and when you ask what he plans on getting and he just replies with something along the lines of new shoes so just imagine the collective shock between you all when he makes a beeline towards prada
"My boots got ruined last mission so I plan on getting a new pair."
"Okay, what store are you gonna be in so we can find you later?"
"Prada."
"Bitch what the fuck did you just say."
you didn't know what hurt more, megumi not telling any of you about the fact that he was loaded or his absolute nonchalance about the situation
and due to the amount of shock all of you were in, you all followed megumi like little ducklings bcuz his casual nonchalance about it was concerning
he was slightly embarrassed but found it easier to just pretend the rest of you weren't there during his hunt for new boots
it was also quite nerve wracking for you all since yuji only buys things from walmart and though nobara has expensive taste, she knows how to budget while you stay away from all things worth more than rent out of fear of damaging anything and having to pay for it
so it was safe to assume that it looked liked a bunch of kindergarteners in a line following their chaperone during a school field trip — just a lot more quieter and careful which cannot be said for every outing much to megumi’s dismay
megumi didn't take that long before picking out a pair that he liked and began to pay for under three pairs of wide eyes due to the sole fact that he pulled out a black card in order to pay for it
"Don't worry, it's Gojo's."
that statement did not help the situation at all
it also caused the three of you to demand why he isn't spending that money on you all to which his reply is just a deadpan: 'you never asked.'
i feel like this also extends to his taste in food as well
like when you suggest to head to the food court in the mall since yuji was getting hungry; this man has the audacity to disaprove since he doesn't like the taste
now that reasoning isn't the problem, the problem is that he suggests to eat at some expensive ass place an hour away because he was craving it and it was one of the only places gojo introduced to him as a kid which he actually liked
though he was forced to toss the idea aside due to the fact that there was no way you all could split the bill that way and you all weren’t that patient enough to walk an hour all the way to a restaurant you couldn’t even afford
it’s not that megumi didn’t offer to pay, he did, nobara just didn’t like the feeling of having to owe someone
that is until Gojo stumbles across his students and decides to get them food at the same exact place megumi suggested
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A/N: writing this made me hungry
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fictionalmenxyn · 1 year
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What it’s like to Date, ¡Price!
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He is very open to things, he is an open minded man in relationships. You got questions he’ll answer them.
If your nervous, he’ll reassure you and tell you that you can take this relationship slow.
Once it’s been a while he is a gentleman. He’ll open doors, pull your seat out and push the chair in he will help you whenever he can see you need it.
His type of love language would probably be gift giving and words of affirmation sometimes quality time; it just depends how long he’s been gone. He likes to vocalise the relationship (take that comment as whatever you want/think of😉). But he likes to know how your feeling and if you need to talk.
If he has to leave for the military, he’ll give you one of his hoodies and he’ll buy a extra bottle of his after shave or his cologne so if he’s gone longer than expected you can still make his clothes smell like him.
He loves buying small things that remind him of you or things he knows will light up your face or make your day. Like if he went shopping to grab some small things like snacks or stock up of water; he’ll grab you a small cake for you or something you enjoy.
Although he loves firing you things he does love when you get him a box full of new cigars. His knees are weak when you buy them, he loves how you know the exact brand even if you don’t smoke or know much about cigars. It’s even better if you didn’t ask him what brand he used or likes most.
Like Soap and gets you to give him a trim. But he gets you to do his beard cause to him you are thee only person to ever get his mutton chop style to a perfection that he likes. It’s like you have a talent not even a professional barber has. You think it’s because your his partner but it’s not that, it’s because your actual good at it.
He may be your partner but he is definitely a role model in your life as of other lives too. Even if your not in the army he is still a role model and he is proud of it.
He enjoys it when you go and sit in his office. You would be on your phone or talking to him, it didn’t matter what you did but your presence being there as he write away with military paper work he enjoys it. He gets through the paperwork quicker when your there.
He likes to take you out, wherever whenever he doesn’t mind. If it’s shopping it’s fine, wherever as long as it puts a smile on your face it puts a smile on his face.
Price loves giving you nicknames. He’s a bit old fashioned with them though but it’s not bad. He tends to use “dove, love, darling, flower” and such. But if you prefer to be called something else he’ll call you it.
Every morning if he’s up before you, he knows you won’t be too far behind. So he’ll go downstairs put on the kettle and puts the news on for a quick reminder of what’s going on in life. Then as the kettle finishes he’ll make you and him either a coffee or tea. Then when your downstairs he’s sat on the sofa watching tv with a brew in hand and eating for you to join him.
In the mornings when he feels like staying in bed a little longer though; he gives your forehead a kiss and feels you snuggles your face towards his neck. He smiles to himself knowing your safe in his arms.
In the night, every so often he likes to watch a documentary on animals especially David Attenborough’s shows; or he’ll watch a bit of crime watch (idk why he just comes of as the type 😂)
Hope you enjoyed!
Make sure to request/message me if you want
Have a good day/night!🫶
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leossmoonn · 5 months
Note
Could you maybe do some head canons for like goth or alternative!reader x mike? Maybe he was intimidated when he first saw her or like Abby really likes the way she dresses and wants to borrow accessories from her and stuff? Idk this idea popped in my head you are such a good writer! 😺
yes! i’m not goth but i looked up some outfits and makeup and stuff. i know the media waters down goth style, but i hope this is what you had in mind!! this is also kind of all over the place sorry 😅
includes / warnings - reader fem, has piercings :D. hc format. after freddy’s.
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first time mike sees you hearts shoot out his eyes like he’s in a cartoon
“what’re you staring at?” abby asks.
“uh,” mike trails off, not being able to answer as he literally locked on you. it’s when you glance over at him when his face get all red and he looks away and goes back to grocery shopping.
abby walks up to you after seeing mike’s interest and starts a conversation with you
mike tries to steer her away, but he can’t get to her before she says:
“my brother thinks you’re pretty.”
lmao if mike didn’t want to die before this, he definitely wanted to now
“oh, he does?” you grin at him.
mike visibly gulps. but he’s glad he’s closer to you and he can really see how hot you are lmao
“yeah,” he nods. “i-i really like your piercing,” he points to his own eyebrow where you have a piercing on your face.
“thank you. it’s new, actually.”
although mike was a little worried about abby running off to talk to you, in the end it was a good thing 😸
mike loves watching you do your makeup. he’ll sit there for hours staring at you for hours if he could
he loves watching your skilled hands paint eyeliner over your eyes. he likes watching you mix lipstick shades together to create the perfect shade you lay desire that day
“don’t you have to go to work?” you ask.
“i can be late if that means i get to stare at your pretty face.”
also, he’s just so impressed with how talented you are at doing makeup and will literally tell you how artistic you are just bc you know how to make a straight wing
mike loves the chunky heels and boots you wear. he likes when you tower over him 😼
not to mention, when the boots go up your thigh he lowk gets all hot and bothered by it lol
he also loves buying you new accessories to put in your piercings. the first holiday you spent together, he bought you a shit tone of necklaces and new pieces to put in your septum
mike loves taking you out. not only bc he loves showing you off in general. in his head he’s definitely walking around like “yeah i know i bagged the most beautiful woman in the world. all you other guys suck.”
but in all seriousness, he loves the dresses you put on. he always says you look like a vampire princess, and he’s not entirely wrong
the dresses you have are fabulous omg. there’s one where it all connects form a choker-like strap around your neck and has straps connecting to the sweetheart neckline of the dress (soz if this doesn’t make any sense lmfao). the dress is textured on the skirt and stops a little bit above your knees. and fuck if mike doesn’t just want to rip it off of you after also wanting to stare at you in it for all of eternity.
you also have this sleek, black, satin dress that has like a straight neckline and long sleeves and goes down to your feet.
everytime mike sees you wearing that he mouths literally waters
now, just to go back to the fact that he is super intimated when first dating you
he was so afraid he was going to be too boring for you or basic. and also just not the type guy you were looking for
but just to his luck, you think he is perfect for you
omg but in the first month or two do you two dating, i just imagine him finding out what music you like and trying to learn every word of every song to siouxsie and the banshees, specimen, sisters of mercy
it definitely does impress you and you think it’s so sweet
for your bday he definitely tries to take you to any concert he can get tickets to
now on the subject of abby, she is definitely obsessed with you
she’s always asking you to do her makeup for school, and you happily oblige!
mike always looking out for abby in his own way, so he was worried if she went to school caked with eyeliner, she would face some backlash, but he knows how happy it makes her — and you — to play with makeup
abby’s always asking mike she can get a tattoo and piercings
“abby, you just turned 11. you won’t be able to drive anytime soon, so no tattoos anytime soon.”
she’s always trying to have you convince him, but unfortunately you have to agree with mike
buuuuttt you do paint and draw designs on abby sometimes and she acts like their tattoos and that’s close enough for her until she’s older
you also buy her face piercings that hook on her nose and lip
mike does let her get her ears pierced once she promises she can handle the little needle poke and she proceeds to try and steal all your earrings lmao
luckily, you buy her copy cats of them so she can have her own
other random things:
mike definitely lets you paints his nails. this is not at all that crazy of an idea, but, it’s smth new he’s never done but he loves watching you get so excited. you can even practice nail art on him too
you have a couple of tattoos, specifically one that goes around the side of your thigh and it just makes him fall to his knees!!
Halloween you guys dress up as the Addams family !!!
so fitting cuz you’re a hot, powerful woman and mike’s like gomez: unwaveringly obsessed with you. and of course abby is wednesday hehe
————
taglist
@celestbarnes
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Note
hey! hc questions for Astarion & ace! Tav (sorry if some of those have already been answered):
- Who picks flowers for the other?
- Who has a hobby only the other knows about?
- How do they hype each other up?
- How do they express their feelings?
- Who's more protective?
- Who gets jealous easier?
thank you for your work! I always get excited when I see you have posted something new about this ship ^^
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Who picks flowers for the other?
Tav does it for Astarion. I know there is some dialogue about him not liking flowers, but it’s different when they’re a gift from his love.
Tav never buy them. They just collect a small bundle as their walking. They then arrange them in a vase or spare cup, accompanied by a story; some local legend or tale about the flowers or just something they make up on the spot, Astarion can never be sure. Still he listens attentively as the story is just as much part of the gift as the flowers themselves.
Who has a hobby only the other knows about?
Tav knows about Astarion’s many tries at different hobbies.
Post game Astarion finally has the time to figure out what exactly he likes to do. Yes, there’s reading, but he figures out he genuinely enjoys embroidering and sewing. Making something with his own two hands and having something tangible at the end is extremely satisfying. Plus, it helps him clear his mind of anything besides the task in front of him. He’s since expanded this to jewelry making and knitting. Although he’ll die before he admits the knitting part.
How do they hype each other up?
Compliments. Compliments all around.
Astarion specifically goes on and on about Tav’s immense musical talent. Tav is already fairly secure in their abilities, but having somebody in the audience they know truly loves their work is heartening.
As for Tav, they know Astarion has his vanity and is willing to indulge him, complimenting him on his looks and choice of clothing. And if they throw an “I love you” at the end of it, he won’t say no.
How do they express their feelings?
I’m going to just assume you mean their feelings toward each other since if I went through all the emotions we’d be here all day.
Tav is actually a very physically affectionate person who has been denied it for years. Once they get permission to show their love that way, they don’t stop. Hugs for certain, leaning against him, hand kisses, cuddling, they’re all in. Quality time is next on the list. They don’t care what they’re doing so long as they’re doing it together.
Astarion is more verbal in his affections. He’ll just tell Tav how beautiful, talented, and amazing he finds them. He teases and tries to make them laugh. He can be quite the poet when he puts his mind to it. I’ll also add physical affection to the list. It takes him time, but once he understands he’s safe, he doesn’t want to loses the feeling of having them close.
Who’s more protective?
Astarion.
Not to say Tav isn’t, because they are, but it’s less visceral than Astarion. He spent so much of his life afraid that even when he does get together with Tav, it doesn’t lessen his fear. If anything his more afraid because he has somebody to lose for the first time in centuries. He considers ascending not just to keep himself safe, but to ensure he can protect Tav, forever. He’s never felt this way before about anyone. There’s no telling what he’d be willing to do for them.
Who gets jealous easier?
Hard to say. They both have their moments. I’d say Astarion is more vocal while Tav let’s it build up over time.
If somebody is flirting with Tav at a tavern, he’s by their side the next second with an arm around their waist and a smile that’s all fangs. He can also get real petty if he feels like they’re giving other people too much attention over him.
If somebody flirts with Astarion, Tav doesn’t say anything because they don’t want Astarion thinking he’s trying to control him or “too much”. But it hurts and if it happens too many times they’ll crack and ask if Astarion is getting bored of them. It would’ve be the first time. It’d take a lot for Tav to admit they’re jealous, but once they do, Astarion would have a field day.
They’re both working on getting better about it. It’s not a pretty thing.
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Text
Sunshine and Flowers
Logan Howlett x plus size reader
Logan has had a great many loves in his long life and he’s over it. He doesn’t want to lose anyone else yet somehow, the annoying and very much younger art teacher at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, wormed her way into his heart.
Warnings: grumpy and sunshine, jealousy, Logan is a dick but we been knew, reader is kind of oblivious and touch starved, age-gap (reader is mid 20s and Logan is old as shit), Logan POV, bit of a slow burn, reader and Logan are Keely and Roy coded
WC: 3.8k
Minors DNI
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
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“Yo Logan!” The seemingly ever present pounding in the older mutant’s temples suddenly got worse, the band around his forehead tightening as the young woman cheerfully skipped up to him without a care in the world. Her arm looped through his own, tucking herself into his side, like she always did. 
“What d’ya want?” He grumbled. It was easier to just ask her outright than stay silent and her chatter away at him for an hour before she finally got to her point. Y/N beamed up at him, her e/c eyes sparkling. “Wellllll… I was wondering if you wanted to come with me on a little field trip with the kids! I was thinking of bringing them to the MET, you know because art.” She waved her right hand around as if to emphasise her point. 
“No.” Logan said firmly. 
“Aw please! Please Logan! Please! Please! Please!” He could practically feel his blood pressure rising as Y/N pleaded with him, pulling on his arm, acting like a complete child. Dear god, what had he done to deserve this?
With the huge throngs of students constantly being enrolled in the school, Charles had come up with the bright idea to introduce an art program to the children as a way of “expressing their creativity”. But what that actually meant was hiring a new teacher specifically for this class since no adult in the school had even an ounce of artistic talent.
And so six months ago, Y/N Y/L/N, a recent college graduate, strolled into the mansion and never left. Her gift to generate small stars gave her the remarkable ability to light her classroom in any way she wished, allowing her students the perfect lighting to create absolute masterpieces. And like her gift, she herself was a big ball of endless energy that constantly bounced around, latching onto whoever she came across, and more often than not, that person was Logan.
For some inexplicable reason, she gravitated to him, always seeking his approval, trying to get him to engage in activities with their students, among many many other things that made the older man truly resent when the final bell of the school day rang and she would float into his classroom, ranting about something or another. The only way he could get her to stop was by distracting her, usually by shoving her in the general direction of her best friend, Alex Summers.
But Havok was on a road trip with Sean and Peter for the next month, so he had been abandoned. Logan sighed as her grating voice made his sensitive ears ring, and the overpowering smell of her flowery perfume was a downright assault on his senses. “Logan, come on! It’ll be soooooo much fun! I’ll even buy you lunch after!” 
While the temptation of free food was great, Logan knew it wouldn’t be worth spending the entire day with Y/N glued to his side, forcing him to do whatever she wanted. Taking a deep breath, prepared to let her down as gently as he could, given that his patience was hanging on by a thread, he would probably be more rude than he wanted to be, when he paused, really taking in the young woman.
“Is that my shirt?” He drawled, his dark eyes flicking over her plump body. She was wearing one of her typical outfits, white converse splashed with paint, shorts that very well could be called Daisy dukes, they were that short, with little flowers embroidered on them. Her chubby thighs almost entirely on view with one of his favourite red plaids on top of a black tank top instead of her usual blouse, making her sizeable cleavage pop. Y/N looked away bashfully. 
“Yeah, I um found it in the movie room and it looked so warm so I took it and it’s super comfy like seriously how do you get your shirts so soft it’s really weird but they always smell like cigars so I guess that’s the downside. That’s not to say you smell bad! I’m just saying that it’s like your trademark-“
There she went again. “It’s fine kid, just wash it before you give it back.” 
“What about the MET!” She called after him.
“Maybe.” He grumbled and with that he walked away, be-lining for the kitchen where he stashed his Vodka, losing her in the sea of students just getting out of class.
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“Now, for today’s class, we’re going to go over some art history!” A collective groan resonated through the room but Y/N’s bright smile never faltered, it actually got bigger as she looked over her small group of students sitting around the art-filled room. “I know, I know but this stuff is important! Art plays such a big role in human evolution. Actually, the argument can be made that our ability to create art is what truly sets us apart from other animal species-“
There was no denying that Miss Y/L/N’s class was a favourite among the young mutants. Her rants not only served to brighten up their day but they also prevented her from giving out any actual work. It especially helped when most of them came from Logan’s class the period before. He was quite well known to be, well there’s no delicate way to put this, a hard ass. 
So when, during this spring afternoon, with just a month left before summer break, Logan strode into the art class, his heavy boots thundering loudly against the hardwood floors, everyone was shocked. Y/N was pacing the room now, well and truly absorbed in her own thoughts, which became an impassioned speech as soon as the words formed in her mind. Logan cleared his throat as he leaned against the door jam, his jaw cleaned tightly when she didn’t answer or look at him.
The collection of children were now starting to get nervous as the seconds ticked by, Logan’s eyes getting steadily darker with anger, the muscle in his lower jaw working over under his mutton chops. They could all see his famous tempter growing and none of them wanted to be on the receiving end. “Um Miss?” A young girl spoke up, trying to break her train of thought. But nope, that couldn’t stop her.
Logan was getting fed up now. How in the hell did these kids even learn anything with the way she was carrying on? “Kid.” He growled, immediately making the entire class freeze, including the young teacher. 
“Oh Logan! Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” She laughed nervously, pulling on the edge of her sheer pink sleeve. He noted she was wearing a dress today, it was frilly and absolutely drowning in flower print, with translucent sleeves that went all the way down to her wrists.
“Right, Wheels needs us in his office. Now.” He pressed as she opened her mouth to point out she was in the middle of a lecture. Y/N nodded then addressed the class. “All right, students. I guess you’re getting out early today. No homework!” She was quick to jog out of the room before the kids were able to leave their seats, effectively avoiding the clambering mass of them trying to practically sprint out. 
Her smaller hand easily slipped into Logan’s bigger one, intertwining their fingers as her left hand came up to rest on his exposed forearm. He felt the cool of her metal rings against his skin. Unconsciously, he noted that he had never seen her wear any kind of jewellery before. “Did Charles say what he wanted?” Her eyes caught his brown ones, falling into step with the older mutant through the quiet halls. Logan just shrugged, fishing a half used cigar from his breast pocket and sticking the thoroughly chewed end in his mouth, a sharp canine slicing into it.
“Hmm.” She hummed, her gaze shifting down to her feet, trusting Logan to guide them to the headmaster’s office. “Do you think it’s a mission?” 
“He doesn’t send you on missions.” Logan said firmly. 
“Yeah I know but it could be! Stranger things have happened.” 
“Like what?” He humoured her.  
“How about Peter actually scoring a date~” She teased, making the Wolverine’s lip turn up briefly in a smile then dropped again into a frown before she could see. 
“You do have a point.” He conceded. They rounded the last corner and came to a stop outside the solid door of Charles’ office. Logan went to knock, a muffled ‘please come in’ sounded before his permanently bruised knuckles could meet the stained wood.
Charles sat behind his grand desk, glasses perched on the end of his nose as he looked over a mountain of paperwork that gave Y/N a headache just from looking at it. She pulled her hand from Logan’s and bounced over to one of the two chairs in front of the headmaster, immediately making herself comfortable. 
Clasping her hands on her lap with her back up straight, Y/N focused on the older mutant as he took off his reading glasses and laid them on what looked to be his grade book. Logan himself leaned against the doorjamb, much like he did in the young woman’s classroom, crossing his muscular arms over his broad chest. 
Charles sighed deeply as he looked at his teachers. “There really is no way to say this delicately so I suppose I’ll just say it: Erik’s come home.” Logan’s entire body seized with an emotion akin to fear.
“Fuck.” He snarled. But Y/N had an entirely different reaction. Her face visibly lit up but not with excitement but instead with the joy of someone who didn’t have to lie anymore. Charles raised an eyebrow at the young woman, prompting her to explain herself.
“He slept in my room last night, there was no other free space.” She said casually as if she hadn’t just dropped the bomb that she spent the night with a dangerous mutant who hadn’t hesitated to kill before. “Don’t worry! I was being safe. He slept on my couch.”
“Like that makes this whole thing any better.” Logan muttered under his breath but only Charles heard him. The telepath gave him a strange but knowing look before turning back to the young art teacher.
Her smile wavered only for a moment before returning with full force. “He was super nice to me! He even picked out my jewellery today.” She flashed her hands towards the headmaster, showing off the various silver rings that adorned her fingers. Logan huffed at her naivety but Charles had an entirely different reaction. He took her hands into his own, delicately tracing the metal with a soft touch.
“Erik did a good job, they look wonderful. But Y/N, I still want you to be wary. Erik can be very volatile and unpredictable and his abilities far outmatch your own. Just be careful.” She gave a firm nod. “Although, I believe you could do him some kind of good to be around someone who finds him tolerable.” Charles gave a not so subtle glance toward the Wolverine who scoffed and rolled his eyes.
An awkward and tense silence fell over the trio. Y/N cleared her throat, tugging on the hem of her dress which lay only an inch above her knees. “Is that all you wanted to tell us?”
“Well, I do need to speak to you about this art trip you have planned. Logan, you’re welcome to stay, you might find this information useful.” 
“Fuck no, I have better things to do with my time.” He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips. She visibly flinched at his words and her smile became so fake it made him ache. Charles’s own expression fell as he sat back in his high-back chair.
“Then if you’ll please excuse us, we have some things to discuss.” He said sternly, quite obviously not pleased with Logan’s rudeness. “Close the door on your way out.” 
As the door swung shut behind him, Logan caught the smallest whimper escaping her lips and the muffled words of his old friend consoling her.
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The manor was almost dead silent as Logan emerged from the cave that was his room. There were no sounds of footsteps (save for his own), or screaming or chatter, there wasn’t even the ever present clatter of utensils from the kitchen. 
Curiously, he wandered through the empty halls, occasionally glancing into the empty rooms he passed. Just as his dark brows began to furrow with concern, Ororo turned the corner, nose buried in a book. “Hey Storm.” Her dark eyes met his own.
“Logan?” She replied with a curious head tilt before returning to her book. Logan huffed through his nose.
“Where is everyone?” She gave him a strange look and glanced over her shoulder as if the answer to his question was just behind her. The young mutant snapped her book shut.
“At the MET? You know the big field trip that Y/N organised. I thought you were going with them. She has been talking about it for weeks.”  Logan’s frown deepened. That was today? Storm seemed to pause as she took in his stormy expression. “Oh, I guess you forgot. No wonder she was so upset when they left. I guess it’s a good thing Erik went with her then.”
Just then, noise exploded through the halls once more as dozens of feet stomped on the expensive hardwood. Ororo sighed heavily through her nose, upset at not being able to have a little more quiet to finish off her chapter. But Logan remained frozen in place, his veins filled with icy terror. “Repeat that last part?”
She glanced at him with a devastating side eye. “Evidently, Erik saw how upset she was this morning when you didn’t get on the bus so he decided to go with her to take care of the kids.”  She shrugged and tucked the leather-bound volume under her arm. “She looked like she was going to cry before he stepped up.”
Poison curled in his gut but he quickly stamped it down. Just then, kids and teens stampeded around the corner, hyped up on what Logan guessed to be sugar and excitement. And right smack dab in the middle was Magneto, his head thrown back in laughter, the corded muscles in his neck and shoulders rippling with the movement. His right arm was bent allowing for the soft hand of the younger woman to rest on his forearm. Y/N was smiling shyly at him, not used to the undivided attention he was giving her.
As they passed him, Logan caught her eye. She barely even gave him a glance but he saw the sadness deep within those e/cs and he knew it was because of him. She quickly looked away, drawing her gaze back to the dangerous mutant who was speaking once more, his laughter fading. But Logan couldn’t hear what he was saying over the roaring in his ears. 
He watched them until they disappeared into one of the many living rooms of the manor. “At least he got her smiling again.” He barely registered Ororo’s words before she too left him.
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This went on for weeks. It seemed that everywhere he turned, Logan would see the unlikely pair together. Whether that be baking in the middle of the night, reading quietly in the library, working on lesson plans, he even saw them training together! 
He watched them from afar as they grew closer and her pull away from himself until one day he was walking out of his classroom after a long day. “Wait up!” Unconsciously, Logan slowed his pace , a smile crawling upon his face. He expected the familiar weight of her touch against his arm, the smell of her floral perfume and the bright sound of her laughter but when a blur raced by him, his heart dropped.
Y/N flung herself at Erik who was just a few paces in front of him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug too tight to be just friendly. He caught her easily, his arms winding around her thick waist and tugged her closer. 
Logan forced himself to turn away, missing the sad look she cast him, heartbreak clear in her eyes.
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The end-of-school party was alive with laughter and music. Lights floated over the small dance floor that had been assembled in the gardens. Professors mingled on the wooden stage, swaying to the smooth acoustic guitar Kurt was strumming. But Logan’s attention was trapped on the centre of the crowd where a small circle of space had been formed and trying as hard as he might, he couldn’t look away. 
Y/N twirled in time with the music, her eyes shut as she let it wash over her. Her skin glowed in the golden sunset, the sweat along her brow sparkled like glitter as she moved. Pale green tulle embroidered with dozens of sunflowers floated around her, her dress fluttering in the light breeze. She was absolutely breath-taking. No weight rested on her shoulders nor anxiety in her face. She was serene, she was like a goddess in human form, dancing and delighting with mere mortals. 
How badly he wanted to stride across the gardens and take her into his arms, to feel her curves beneath his palms as they moved together. Logan shook himself from those thoughts and took another sip of whiskey. The alcohol burned as it slid down his throat but that was nothing compared to the burning rage in his stomach as another man approached her.
Erik, dressed in a matching dark green suit, caught her mid-twirl, his left hand holding her hips in place as he captured her left hand in his right. She fell easily into step with him, her once fluid movements becoming a slow waltz. 
Logan was so consumed in his anger that he hadn’t noticed another person walking to his side until they were right next to him.
“Why are you so worked up about this? You’ve made it very clear that you can barely even tolerate her.” Logan’s scowl deepened, his eyes growing even darker with rage as Hank spoke to him. “I mean even I’ve heard about the things you’ve said to her and I barely leave the lab.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Beast.” He didn’t bother to hide the way he was glaring at the pair. Almost as if in slow motion, Erik pressed his lips to her ear, speaking in a whisper so quiet, even Logan’s powerful hearing couldn’t pick it up. She pulled away from him for just a moment and hope bloomed in his chest. But it quickly died as she nodded in response.
Erik took her hand, their fingers intertwining as he led her away. Logan slammed his now empty glass down on the temporary bar behind him and stormed off towards the couple. The music faded away as he ran. 
Her laugh carried on the breeze, the skirt of her dress fluttering behind her. Logan ran faster, now regretting the tight suit pants and button-up he donned for the evening as they got steadily further and further away.
Without thinking, he made a sharp left, launching himself over the perfectly pruned flower beds Charles loved so much and tore through the gardens. Then suddenly, she was within sight. One heeled foot was over the threshold but he still had a chance.
With a final burst of speed he grabbed Y/N’s wrist before she could enter the manor, forcing her to let go of the other man. “Don’t go with him. Please.” 
“Logan, what are you doing?”
“I can’t let you go with him. Y/N, I-“ He swallowed harshly, his grip tightening ever-so-slightly. Y/N looked over her shoulder to the other mutant only to find him gone. “Fuck why can’t I just say it.”
Her body was fully turned to him now. “Say what?”
Taking in a deep breath, he looked into her eyes. “I love you.” The slap came out of nowhere, knocking the breath from his lungs. Y/N’s jaw was dropped in shock as if she didn’t see it coming either even though it was her hand that now burned with the sting of meeting his unshaven cheek.
“Let me go, who-who put you up to this?” She attempted to pull away from his hold but he wouldn’t let her go. 
“Y/N-“ He started but was quickly interrupted when she spoke again, tears spilling down her full cheeks and voice wavering.
“No. You can’t feel that towards me, you barely even like me. You’ve made that very clear over the past couple weeks, no the past year! You brush me off! You make me feel like an idiot! You ignored my blatantly obvious feelings for months and now you say something?!” 
“You feel the same?” He asked in disbelief. 
“Of course I do! That’s why I asked you to go to the MET with me. I was gonna bring you to the American wing where all the native art was because I know you love it so much and then I was going to tell you. But then you were just so awful to me when Erik got here and you forgot about the trip!” Once again, she tried to break his grip but Logan instead tugged her back and right into his broad chest.
With a massive paw, he cupped her soft jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Can you just let me explain?” Her bottom lip popped out in a pout but she didn’t object. “I have lost so much, too much. Every woman I have ever loved has died because I loved them. And you, you are so young and so beautiful and way too kind for your own good. I love you more than anyone else and I guess that scared me. I pushed you away. But I can’t do it anymore, I can’t watch you fall for someone else.” 
“Goddamnit.” She growled before her arms shot out and wrapped around the back of his neck so she could yank his face down to her level, and then she kissed him.
Stars burst around them like little fireworks as he pulled her closer by the small of her back. Her hands travelled from his neck downwards so her fingers could curl into his shirt like she was terrified that this was all just some dream. 
“You do anything even remotely close to that whole fiasco again and I will let Erik do whatever he wants to you.” She murmured against his lips.
“Just kiss me again, sunshine.” And she did.
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spotsandsocks · 1 month
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WIP WEDNESDAY
Tagged by @tizniz @hoodie-buck @eddiebabygirldiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @elvensorceress @heartshapedvows @jesuisici33 @honestlydarkprincess @exhuastedpigeon @diazsdimples @wikiangela you’re all so talented 💜
Who knows when this will be released into the world so have a generous snippet of the only thing I’ve managed to write this week
He can’t help feeling this is a stupid idea even if it was his own in the first place. Getting Buck back out there and getting the inevitable over with had seemed like a good idea until he had to actually witness Buck in action. He’s been watching surreptitiously and how any one can resist the blue eyes and cute smile is beyond him and that’s just the outside of Buck. The inside, his true self is so much better. The man has it all going for him. Chim has no chance of being right about Buck having “lost it” in Eddie’s opinion he’s getting better looking, more attractive every year.
A grin lights up Buck’s face and his eyes flash over to where Eddie’s standing. Eddie looks away quickly, maybe Buck didn’t notice him staring. Lifting the empty bottle to his lips again for something to do he reminds himself this is his own fault and he can’t complain but maybe shouldn’t complain would be a better phrase because that’s what he’s doing, completely silently but very very fiercely.
*
For some reason Eddie’s swigging from an empty bottle. If he needs a drink Buck ought to wrap things up here and get back to him. He makes his excuses to Siobhan who’s nice enough but no Eddie and escapes. He can’t say he’s not a little gratified by the flash of disappointment on her face as he leaves but he’s much more pleased by the smile that lights up Eddie’s face when he taps him on the arm to gain his attention.
“You need a beer?” Buck nods towards the empty bottle. “Or..” he tells himself the next sentence doesn’t have to mean anything “ would you like to dance for a bit?”
Eddie blinks in surprise and Buck holds his breath.
“Dancing sounds fun.”
“Yeah?”
A warm hand grabs his forearm, “yeah, let’s go, you can buy me a beer after I show you my moves.”
Tagging anyone who would like to share @thekristen999 @hippolotamus @loserdiaz @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @daffi-990 @shortsighted-owl @buddierights @bekkachaos @underwater-ninja-13 @spaceprincessem @stagefoureddiediaz @thewolvesof1998 @wildlife4life @weewootruck @giddyupbuck @pirrusstuff @steadfastsaturnsrings @rainbow-nerdss @lover-of-mine @fortheloveofbuddie @watchyourbuck @loveyouanyway @actualalligator
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ncteez · 10 months
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beloved🥹 for ur sleepover could you perhaps consider #96 from that list (“I had this dream and- fuck- you couldn’t keep your hands of me.”) & vernon🫶 congrats on the 6k again you’re so talented and deserve the world and i’m so glad ur here🫶 - 🍿 x
Vernon + “I had this dream and- fuck- you couldn’t keep your hands off me.” 
wordcount: 3.1k
tags: stoner!vernon, stoner!afab reader, clearly the use of smoking weed, awkward best friends who only share their attractions to each other when they’re zooted as fuck, no joke– weed is a personality trait in this. 
warnings: mentions of anxiety and panic attacks. 
note: hi my popped p(ussy)opcorn anon! i was rly excited to write this so i hope you like it even tho i went kinda overboard. not proof read, as you know. 
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You’re not entirely sure how you became so close with Vernon, the guy in highschool who definitely carried his lunch back to class in his pockets. Maybe it’s because college is hard, and Vernon is easy to be around. Kind of like a breath of fresh air except all the air you breathe in with him happens to be incredibly thick with smoke.
Never in your life did you consider weed as a personality trait. Not yours, anyway, until Vernon is around you. Honestly, it’s like being a burn-out during your down time is actually quite relaxing, as long as you keep up with your GPA and assignments, there’s nothing wrong with wake n’ baking. Or like, taking a few hits before a big exam to calm the anxious energy inside of you, right? 
The thing is, it’s gotten to the point that you’ve smoked in all sorts of scenarios and find the least anxiety ridden experience to be the one where it’s just you and him, sitting outside of his shitty apartment and pretending like every college kid within a six mile radius can’t sniff the two of you out.
Peer pressure be damned, Vernon was the first one to ever pass you a joint at a random party you both happened to attend. You didn’t really know why you grabbed it because you swore to yourself that you’d be straight edge until you get a degree, and then you’d maybe try buying a bottle of vodka and a sack of weed just to see what you missed out on. It was something about that night, your first college party, the first familiar face at a party, and the urge to say fuck it. 
You didn’t mean to actually inhale it, but somehow it was a natural thing your body did and Vernon didn’t even laugh at you for choking. That’s when you became friends with him, and ultimately over the months the two of you would often run into the other. 
Your first weed-induced panic attack was at a party with him, and he was honestly so fast to get you out of there without so much as knowing where you needed to go. Calming you down and very aware that you probably smoked too much, and had a little too much to drink as well. The weed wasn’t laced, he said, the alcohol wasn’t spiked, he assured. Somehow, and someway, his fried ass got you through it and the night ended much better as the two of you sat in a random person’s back yard picking their grass and talking about gods, and universes, and the theory of giants roaming the earth in ancient times. 
By now, he should know you don’t prefer the parties. It doesn’t stop him from trying to include you every single time though. Tonight was just another invitation, one in which you declined. 
Why? Smoking around other people isn’t fun. It makes you paranoid and uncomfortable. Being hit on ruins the fun too. Plus, the music is almost always trash. 
Vernon: why won’t you come?
You: you know i don’t like smoking in groups
Vernon: but free weed :( 
You: just bring some over when you’re done doing whatever you wanna do.
The way he does just that. Appearing at your door a mere four hours after he told you he was leaving for the party and smiling at you with already reddened eyes. 
“Free weed,” He starts, patting his jacket pocket and then stepping inside. “And snacks.” He adds, revealing a bag from behind him that contains the majority of snacks the two of you tend to gravitate toward. 
“God, just how much did you spend on the food?” You laugh, reaching for the bag and peeking inside. “Wait, why are you trying to butter me up?”
He scratches his ankle with his socked feet for a moment, avoiding eye contact with you and then shrugs again. 
“Because you’re my best friend?”
“Vernon, you never buy the snacks.” You narrow your eyes at him.
Another shrug before he defensively pulls the bag back, only to immediately toss it onto your counter and make himself at home in your living room. 
“Seungcheol disappeared with someone for a while and forgot that I know where his stash is.” He says, pulling out the little bag of definitely stolen weed. “I’ll pay him back later.”
You make your way next to him, immediately smelling the scent.
“How does he always manage to find the good stuff?” You ask with a chuckle, reaching forward to grab the candle lighter from your coffee table. 
“Fuck if I know.” Vernon is too focused on inspecting the buds he managed to pluck out of the original stash then turns to you. “Bong or blunt?” 
You look around. 
“Well, we aren’t at your place so unless you want to get kicked out of school I suggest we just roll a blunt and step out on the patio.”
Obviously, he’s already high and probably forgot that your place isn’t his, or that his place isn’t also yours.
“Smart girl. Always keeping me on the right path.” He compliments with a nod and a smile. “Do you have any wraps?”
That, you do. Because of course you do.
“Mango good?”
A nod. 
And you know, Vernon never was good at rolling blunts but they all smoked the same anyway. You didn’t mind the small bud leaves sticking to your lips by the time half of the blunt was smoked and you’re all curled up on the patio with your best friend beside you. 
It’s kind of weird, actually, how many times you’ve been high out of your mind and looked at him like this. It’s probably because the two of you always smoke together in the early morning or when the moon is out. You still remember the first time you looked at him this way. 
You crashed at his house after a particularly bad party and he woke you up from the couch that next morning offering a parting gift before he walked you home. After all, it was only a few streets away. His hair was a fucking mess, and his eyes were so drowsy with sleep that you could tell that he was even more groggy than you were to be awake. The morning sun burned his eyes, and likewise for you. You could see them glisten through the pain of light penetrating his pupils, and you could hear the way his nails scratched at his bed head after a winded stretch. His oversized hoodie offering the look of a particularly comfortably, but pissed off best friend for waking up so early. 
The smoke inhaled more smoothly that morning, and his smile seemed a little brighter than usual too. 
Right now, as you look at him, he’s in that exact same oversized hoodie with a beanie covering the hair he likely decided not to brush today. Despite a party, despite being out and about, he’s just….Vernon. With his febreze scented everything to hide the smell of his burn-out ways, and his stupid eyes that are always glassy and offering a watery, sparkly look. 
“What the fuck are you looking at?” He half-giggles under the discomfort of your gaze. Feeling a little insecure, in all honesty. 
“Oh, sorry.” You shake your head in a way to shake your thoughts of the constant fondness you feel for him. You’re not entirely comprehending that you admire him, you just happen to like noticing things. “I zoned out.”
“I can see that.” He smiles, turning away from you and facing the night sky. “It’s muggy out here, we should go back inside. We can finish the rest of this later?”
You nod, staring him down. Only he would wear a fucking hoodie in humid ass weather like this summer offers. He should know by now that even at night, it feels disgusting outside. 
It’s silent save for a few laughs as the two of you make your way back inside. The air conditioner hits your skin in a wonderful way, bringing goose bumps and causing you to let out a small shiver. 
“So much better,” You nearly sing-song out as you flop yourself down on the couch, your body feeling that familiar heavy feeling. “Do you think Seungcheol has noticed by now that you stole his weed?”
“Nah, he usually gives me some anyway since I’m always sharing with him.”
That’s fair. Still, the whole idea of stealing it felt dangerously funny and weirdly attractive. 
“Thanks for coming over by the way, I’m glad you weren’t too tired.” You smile, zoning out entirely by now.
Vernon hums out a response, now flopping down next to you and just lying there to feel the high he’s always chasing. 
The silence is short lived though, as he starts laughing out at nothing. You turn to look at him, waiting for some sort of joke or explanation of what he’s thinking about. 
“What’re you thinking about?” You say, almost laughing with him because it’s kind of contagious. 
“I just, like, it’s so stupid actually–” He starts, laughing out a breathy type of laugh and then taking in a breath to be able to speak again. “I was just thinking about how like, I had this dream the other day and it was literally just my old communications professor running away on stilts.”
Okay, now, hold on. That image is actually hilarious and it kind of sends you into a laughing fit too.
“What the fuck?” You laugh, wondering what he must be thinking about all the time to have dreams like that. “I never have funny dreams, mine are always scary or like…”
You trail off in a very obvious way, but thankfully Vernon isn’t amazing at finishing your thoughts or picking up on hints as to what you may have been about to say. 
Until like, fucking now apparently. 
“Oooooh,” He laughs, looking away from you. “You got a spicy dream to share?”
Man, you’ve got plenty but probably none that he’d be too interested to hear about. 
“Nah, nothing of note to really mention.” You say back, the laughing fit calming itself within you. 
“Well, that’s some bullshit. I have some pretty wild dreams, the sex ones can be kind of funny too.” 
Oh, your ears perk up. 
“What’s the funniest one you’ve ever had?” You ask, narrowing your eyes at him. 
“There was this one time I had a dream about Mingyu’s cousin.” 
You dead-pan stare at him in shock.
“I’m gonna tell on you.” You say, but he completely brushes you off.
“No! I mean, it’s not like I enjoyed it actively, but whoever I was in that dream was really going to town. I mean I was like, man–” He pauses, remembering the dream. “I’m pretty sure my dick was crying when I woke up because if I remember correctly, she was gnawing on it like a piece of beef jerky.” 
You snort and roll your eyes. 
“You’re totally the type to get off on some weird shit like that. Oh my god. Do you ever have a normal dream? Or like, a normal thought for that matter?”
He stares at you and you swear you can see his cheeks fan over with a blush. 
“Well….” He says, trailing off. “I mean, yeah. Of course I do, but you seem to like the funny ones the most.”
“Okay, then try and tell me a normal one and let’s see how it goes.”
Normal to Vernon may not be normal to you, but also he can’t tell if you’re referring to a sex dream or not. He’s not entirely the type to shy away despite feeling a little shy. 
“Sex dream or non sex dream?”
You think hard about which type of dream you want him to describe to you (no you don’t.)
“Sex dream.” 
He smiles, flicking his eyes to the bag of snacks on the table but opting to give it some more time before he starts eating like a damn goblin. 
“Let me think of one, hold on.” 
You sit there patiently, which probably doesn’t look very patient considering you quite literally turn your entire body to face him and rest your chin on your palm as if you’re expecting some inception styled sex or something. 
“Um…” He trials off, remembering very little of most of his sex dreams besides, well, the one he had of you. But to be fair most of them are about you, and he sees you so often that they’re kind of hard to forget. 
He can’t just tell you that though. He might be fucking zooted but he’s not an idiot. 
“Last week I had this dream about you.” 
Okay, maybe he’s an idiot. 
“Oh? Me?” You adjust your posture even more to that of interest, for no reason other than curiosity. You’re a bit flattered. 
“Yeah but that’s probably not one you wanna hear. There’s also one I had about–” Right, that one was about you too. “Or maybe…” Still about you.
You narrow your eyes.
“Just tell me the damn dream. I wanna know if I was any good.”
Vernon, for the first time in what feels like years, is experiencing extreme awkwardness. Nervousness. Dare he say, anxiety. Probably because of the way you blink at him with some type of expectation for this to be totally normal. Definitely a situation where he shouldn’t be feeling shy or even slightly turned on simply for thinking about all of those dreams he pretended he never had when you were with him.
Why did he have to tell you about this? Because now he has to actually tell you about it.
You watch him and the way he’s acting, noting that glimpse of nervousness and reaching forward to clap your hand on his knee. 
“Vernon, it was a dream, it’s not that big of a deal. You’ve been in a few of mine too.”
Well, that’s both comforting to him and terrifying because if he was in your dreams, the vernon in your head probably couldn’t even get you off. Which is fucked up of him. 
“If I tell you, you gotta tell me one of yours then.” 
You nod, resuming a more slouched posture and preparing to listen to him and his god awful story telling.
Except, it’s not awful. In fact, you can see him physically react to the images in his head as he re-tells the story. Those little movements in his legs? They don’t go unnoticed. 
“Last week, I had this dream and–” His eyes closed as he leaned himself against the couch, bouncing one leg up and down as if to calm his energy. He remembers it so clearly, and it’s kind of hard to admit with you right next to him. “Fuck,” He sighs out, ultimately choosing to leave the real life situation and instead live in his head for a few moments. 
Then, he opens his eyes and looks at you. 
“You couldn’t keep your hands off of me.” 
There’s a swirling inside of your belly at the way he is telling you this dream. One that makes you feel as though your initial reaction to his reaction isn’t so wrong after all. The dream turned him on. 
He liked it. 
He probably wanted it to happen after he woke up. 
“Then what happened?” You ask in a voice much smaller than you intended. 
Another sigh comes from him as he closes his eyes again, thinking hard about how detailed he should be about it. 
“Are you really wanting me to go into detail about how I dreamed about us fucking?”
You nod immediately, and then try to offer some form or relief. 
“If you don’t want to, that’s okay. Can you at least tell me if I was any good?” 
The way his eyes stay closed as he hums out. He is thinking. Very hard. 
“Well, it’s the only thing I’ve been jerking off to since it happened so I could argue that, yeah, you were pretty good.” 
You weren’t expecting him to admit how real he made the dream in his waking life. It’s an image he seemed to cling onto, and now, it’s an image you kind of want to cling onto as well. 
“Then tell me what happened.”
“I think I’ve admitted enough, it’s your turn now.”
Suddenly you feel shy. Yeah, it’s just a dream and all of that but now, seeing the way he seemed to really enjoy fucking you while being asleep, maybe you can admit to have liked the dream you had about him too. 
“We were in your living room and you went down on me. Absolutely rubbed one out when I woke up. Now, continue with yours.”
The fucking whiplash he gets from those string of words only drives him to continue.
“Oh how funny, I also went down on you in my dream too.” He tries to be normal about it, you can tell. “Would’ve been nice if I could actually taste it but as you know, I was like, asleep, and you’d probably never let me do that anyway.”
The side eye he gives you after saying that is almost hilarious. Almost.
“Well, were you any good at it?” You ask, leaning back against the arm of the couch and also pretending to be very normal about this sudden shift in friendship. 
“I’d say I was. Are you as vocal as you were in my dream?” He prods, still side-eyeing you. 
“Oh, most definitely.” 
He watches the way you lean back, the way you squeeze your thighs, the way you look a little flushed and he’s sure it’s not just the high doing it. 
“In my dream, you were also really wet for me.”
That, you can believe. 
“I’m really wet right now.” You admit in a monotone voice, staring straight at him and the way he turns his face away from you. 
���I’m also really hard,” He whispers out, not at all hiding the fact that his length is showing blatantly through his jeans. “We could, um, maybe…”
He didn’t even have to finish the sentence before you move yourself directly next to him, almost on him. You lean your head on his shoulder, feeling how warm he still is in this hoodie. You reach your arm up, pull off his beanie, and ruffle his hair once before smiling. 
“Are you going to eat me out first?”
It’s the way he nearly chokes, drowsy eyes no longer staring into space but staring directly at the way his cock twitches as your voice asks him such a thing. 
He nods.
“Yeah, yeah.” A cough. “Yes.” 
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where-dreams-dwell · 6 months
Text
It’s almost like the Usher children *knew* they weren’t going to live long and so they intentially left no marks upon the world.
Camille’s speech about how none of the kids actually makes or does anything is so startling: here is a group of people given all the opportunities and access money can buy, all of whom have had this their entire adult life, and they haven’t used it to create or build anything.
You can almost sense Roderiks disappointment in them, in his speech to Perry. He has this hyper focus on what his ‘investment’ money will fund, and says that ‘Ushers change the world’. But outside of himself and Madeline, not one of them has.
Frederick took the money, if he ever got any, and probably funnelled it back into his house or the company. By the looks of it he doesn’t have anything other than his family and his job, so there’s nothing for Roderick to invest in.
Tammy funnelled the money into a lifestyle brand, but one that wouldn’t have her at the front and centre. She scathingly reveals to Bill that she selected him to be her husband based upon his brand and marketability, showing she was ready to create this new empire but with her pulling strings in the shadows. From the outside it probably looks like she hasn’t created anything at all and that it’s all Bill, using his wife’s money. On top of this, the running gag of her storyline is that her brand and ideas aren’t even original, but are ripped off of Goop. So she hasn’t made anything new, and if Goldbug has any impact at all it will be no different to another more successful, more well know product. Hardly ‘changing the world’.
Victorine has some medial training but she looks to be a supporting role to her partner within their clinic, in which Al is the talented surgeon who people come to see and Victorine is a kind of silent partner. So she decided to go into medical devices or smart medical tech, but she relies upon the ideas and skills of others. As Camille said ‘the mesh is the surgeons, that’s why she’s fucking the surgeon’. And her medical knowledge seems to be limited if she thinks just her word and some money will move their experiments into human trials. So she also hasn’t ‘changed the world’ she’s just found someone else who was trying to and co-op-ed their ideas. You could even argue she poisoned those ideas, as Al mentions that the pain medication Victorine has been supplying looks like street drugs and wouldn’t stand up in any medical paper or research study.
Camille is, like she said, spinning furiously and going nowhere. She looks skilled in her field (from the analysis scenes we get, and Madeleine’s signing off on her PR analysis post Perry’s death) but she works from the shadows and hasn’t ‘created’ anything that wasn’t there before. There have been PR spin doctors before and there will be more to come; Camille offers nothing new ans hasn’t ‘changed the world’ in any measurable way. From what little we see of her work she hasn’t recreated a PR agency, hasn’t trained up other spin doctors under her, hasn’t created a brand or company which will outlast her. She leaves nothing behind to show what her skills or talents were.
Leo is shot down quickly when he claims he makes games: he doesn’t, he gives money to people who do. So he too will leave little to nothing behind when he’s gone. His references to past boyfriends show no long lasting relationships in his life and he has no other hobbies or pursuits we know of. Like Camille he hasn’t created a company to help with game design, hasn’t trained up others within this field he claims as his own. Even with the gaming ‘world’ it sounds like he changed very little. Fredrick’s throw away comments about Leo’s flat reveal that Leo hadn’t even had input in the decoration or style of his own home: he just latches onto the styles, ideas, aesthetic of his current boyfriend and goes with their ideas and plans. It’s such a small tiny thing but he truly has no original ideas in any aspect of his life.
And finally Perry, who’s desperate for that start up money but clearly has no plans or ideas on how to use it. He’s had a year and his main idea is an exclusive whisky bar. Even this idea, for all its crude intentions, shows his lack of vision: he doesn’t understand that to get the reputation he claims his bars would have will take time. You don’t just ‘create’ a consequent free bar celebrating decadence and privilege overnight. Reputations take time and as Madeline asks ‘what will be different about this one’ to draw people in to begin with? Studio 54 (which he compares his club to). only operated for 3 years before closing: not the smartest inclusion in an investment pitch.
To be fair to Perry though, looking at what the other siblings did or didn’t do with their loan money it seems a bit unfair that his ‘Blow job whiskey bar’ was shot down so decisively and cruelty. Assuredly Leo’s ‘video game studio for just myself’, Camille’s ‘PR agency just for me with my two assistants’, Victorines ‘medical training and clinic where I help out other surgeons’, Tammys ‘subscription lifestyle brand ripped off from a celebrity’ and Fredrick’s ‘I’d just like to work with you Dad’ were all clearly given the green light. But Perry apparently wasn’t good enough. Maybe this was a reaction to Roderick getting the news he was dying as so he wanted Perrys investment at least to actually change something, but still. He might as well give him the money either way at that point.
And I think it’s probably intended as a commentary on the ultra wealthy. Like of course people with more money than most counties have no plans to leave anything for the next generation. They have achieved their high levels of success by being solely focused upon themselves and so are honestly incapable of considering others. They are solely interested in enjoying the life they are currently living and why strain themselves to fight and build something when they don’t have to?
But it also works so well as a supernatural legacy and ironic conclusion to Roderick’s deal: he agreed that none of his bloodline would outlive him, and so none of them built anything that would.
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goldsainz · 2 years
Text
masterlist.
a/n: this was going to be longer, but i just couldn’t get myself to do such a long piece. honestly, there’s not a lot of harry mentioning, but it’s still a fun piece, i’m just giving you crumbs. this isn’t the peak of my writing, especially since this is my first time doing second person POV, tumblr is making me try things id never thought i’d do!!
word count: 3,4k
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Y/N Y/LN Keeps A Straight Face While Eating Spicy Wings | Hot Ones 
The interview begins with you sat across Sean Evans, the line up of sauces making your heart beat a little faster, not sure how much spice you were actually able to bear.
“Hey everybody! Today we are joined by Y/N Y/L/N, who you may recognise from too many movies and shows to name! She is an Oscar nominated actress, Emmy Award Winner, and an overall talented person. Her most recent project, Don’t Worry Darling which comes out this September 23rd, is coming in no time, so don’t forget to buy your tickets.” Sean introduces you, a stifled laugh leaving your lips. “Y/N welcome to the show!”
“Thank you very much! I’m quite nervous right now, my manager said this could get spicy really quick, but I’m not sure what she meant by that.” You grinned, that signature, award winning smile plastered on your face.
“That depends on how good you are with spicy food, do you have a high tolerance?”
“I think so? It’s not something that scares me while ordering food, but I’m not actively seeking it. But seeing all of these hot sauces is making me sweat just a tad bit much right now.”
━━━━━━
“I’ve actually watched a couple of the Hot Ones interviews.” You confess, making Sean look impressed that you watched that sort of content.
“Now I have to know more, this is one of the best compliments I’ll get in a lifetime.” He then mutters something you didn’t quite get, but it seemed like a praise towards you.
“Well yeah, I sometimes scroll through Youtube, see it pop up, and someone I like is on the cover and I just click it. I used to go ‘Wow, thank god my manager would never make me go on that, don’t think my spice tolerance is that good’, but now I’m here so it seems like the tables have turned for me!” 
“I guess I don’t have to tell you how this works, or which sauces go first then.”
“I’ve taken some work off your hands!” You say with a laugh. 
“Let’s take a bite then, shall we?” Sean asks, while you nod your head and grab the first wing.
You take a bite, realising it wasn’t all that bad. In fact, it wasn’t bad at all, there was a hint of spice but nothing you couldn’t handle.
“Okay so how are we feeling with wing number one?”
“Pretty good, my confidence level is on a solid 8 for now.” You just knew you would take your words back a couple of wings later, but maybe if you lied to yourself a little it wouldn’t be that hard.
“You said in an interview a while back that you enjoyed cooking, especially spicy food because it was funny seeing how some people crumbled when eating certain dishes. Who would you say had the funniest reaction?” 
“I once cooked for Taylor Swift, she’s a good friend of mine who I’ve learnt doesn’t take spice as well as she says she does.” You admit, and if anyone wasn’t watching the interview and just hearing it, they’d almost be able to hear your smile. “I made a dish, I might’ve messed up the amount of chillies I put on it, and I didn’t realise it was that bad until she had tears in her eyes, I felt horrible about it!”
“Did she tell you it was too spicy?”
“She was trying to be nice about it, she was full on coughing, and her words were of comfort because she didn’t want me to feel bad!” Everyone in the room lets out a laugh at your words, nobody was really surprised to know that Taylor was just that sweet.
“Would you say Taylor is one of your closest friends in the industry?” It was a tough question, because being a close friend was such a different question for someone like you, someone who did what you did.
“She’s been through a lot with me, I’ve been through a lot with her. Sometimes we don’t talk as often as we would like, but when we do it’s like we had talked everyday.” 
“You met all the way back in 2014, right?” 
“At the Met Gala, it was my first one, it wasn’t hers though. We sat at the same table, we talked all throughout it, and the rest is history.”
━━━━━━
The second wing had proven to still be bearable. You weren’t quite sure when you would get hit with all the heat, but you were enjoying your time so far.
“Don’t Worry Darling was a process that took a while to make because of Covid. In fact, filming had to stop because a crew member tested positive, making you have to go through a quarantining process. What was it like filming with such heavy health regulations?” 
“It was hard, nothing was really like it used to be. Filming was still fun, but there were many things I hadn’t actually taken notice of until Covid started.” Your brows furrowed, a crease on your forehead present. “Kissing scenes were different, probably the ones we had to be the most precise while filming. They had us take a disinfectant mouthwash, which was very minty, at least it ensured your partner wouldn’t have bad breath!” You joked, lightening the mood of a heavy question.
“Was there a limit for the amount of times you could film such scenes?”
“For sure, we tried to make them work each time, there really wasn’t a lot of goofing around because it was a health risk just to film them. You couldn’t just improvise a kiss, you would have to consult with your partner if they were comfortable with the possibility of you doing that. Harry was always very respectful of boundaries, he never tried to do anything that crossed a line or could just be awkward in general.”
“Would you say that there had to be a lot of trust involved, more than the usual amount?” 
“Of course! Before Covid if you didn’t really like your partner you’d just film the scenes, talk with your intimacy coordinator about what crossed a boundary, what didn’t, and then you would just go on with your day. Now, you need to build a certain trust, like the one you’d have with a friend just to make the experience of filming a good one, and not have to shoot a million times because you can’t get the right look of love, or whatever you’re supposed to convey.” 
“That seems like a very exhausting process.” Sean says, and you just nod at his words, knowing that it was exhausting but also made you get to know the love of your life a lot sooner in the process. 
“I’m eyeing the third wing very hard right now, I didn’t eat a lot today so this is kind of my lunch.” 
“Let’s dig in then!” And that you do.
“Oh! This one hits you instantly, I wasn't really expecting it.” He laughs at your comment, but mostly at the straight face you had while eating your wing.
“It just keeps on hitting from now on!” You just throw your head back with a laugh, a groan slipping from your lips.
━━━━━━
“I’m gonna ask you a question, is that okay?” Many interviewers didn’t take it very well when you asked them questions, they felt as though you were taking up their job. So you had learnt it was better to ask and be turned down, than asking right away and having someone be mad backstage.
“Go for it!”
“If at some point I drink some milk, is that a sign of me starting to give up?” 
“No, definitely not. Most people drink milk to cleanse their palate, we are not gonna shame you on how well you are doing based on if you drink something or not.”
“Alright, I’m not gonna drink anything yet, but good to know.”
“If you don’t drink anything, then I won’t either.” He decided, making you laugh in response, you probably hadn’t laughed so much in an interview in a very long time.
“You are a very private person, do you find it difficult to manage your public life, your work life, from the private one?”
“I’ve gotten better over the years, when I didn’t have the exposure I had now, I didn’t worry about paparazzi catching moments I wanted to keep for myself.”
“Are relationships the hardest part?” There it was, the relationship question, at least it wasn’t a speculation over who it was. That much was appreciated.
“Maybe? If your partner is famous then it probably is, you don’t only have to balance the image you give for yourself but theirs too. If they’re not famous, then people will start spreading rumours over who they are, what they are doing with someone famous, it can become overwhelming very quickly.”
“But you don’t hide your relationships like some do, you just keep them private, is that correct?”
“Yeah, being someone’s secret isn’t nice. I keep the first months private just because you’re still getting to know each other, and having those moments ruined by the public is not what I want.” 
“I’m sure that what you do want is this fourth wing!” You were grateful for Sean’s ability to make his guests comfortable, to make the awkwardness not so overbearing. 
“I sure do, Sean!”
You both take a bite, the flavours are good and you remain with a straight face, even when the heat does creep up.
“I’m loving the composure you’re maintaining.” You giggle at his words, making him laugh along with you.
“I’ve done years of acting, some things I’ve taken with me.”
━━━━━━
“Are your eyes glossy?” Sean asks, his voice holding a shocked tone.
“What? No!” You respond, your hand over your mouth as you still had food in it.
“Just wondering if the heat is catching up to you, that’s all.”
“I promise, the fifth wing has not gotten to me.” 
“You are known to never take things personally, even when asked rude questions you are never rude in return. Does it get tiring to maintain your composure at times?”
“There definitely have been times in which I want to snap at someone, mainly because they’re being rude, but I feel that if you don’t give them the attention they seek they won’t continue their behavior. I mean, most of them catch the hint, some of them are persistent though.”
“That’s a very interesting thought process, is there someone who taught you to do that?”
“Nope! That’s just been me learning over the years, the industry will make you learn things you never thought you’d need to know.” You say with a sigh, looking at the backstage of the set, not at anyone in particular.
“Talking of the industry, what has been the best piece of advice a celebrity has given you?”
“Do not search your name on social media unless your manager says so.” You confess, the tightness in your voice evident.
“Wow, that’s powerful, can you tell us why?” 
“Because people are mean, and I know that they say with fame comes hate, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. I sometimes have the urge to go on twitter, see what people are saying about me at the moment, yet you never know what you might see.”
“I can understand that. I can definitely say I’ve looked up my own name, not much has come up as I’d imagine it would for someone with your influence.” Sean praises, your cheeks heating up at the compliment.
“You never know what to expect from the internet. After I did the reading thirst tweets interview, I for sure won’t look up my name.” An uncomfortable laugh is let out, and he just joins in.
━━━━━━
You were just two wings away from finishing the interview. Your cheeks were definitely a redder than they were at the start, sweat was evident on the top of your brows, but you were still taking the challenge like a champ. Or as best as you could, the heat definitely wasn’t really helping with your perception of things.
“You said your confidence level was 8 at the start, what are you at now?”
“Maybe five, five’s good, I feel like sipping some milk but I can still do this.” You say with slight raspiness to your voice.
“You always say fashion is your passion, and with your collaborations over the years with different brands, what was your overall favourite outfit in ‘Don’t Worry Darling’?” 
“Tough question, there are many answers, but I’d have to say the fuchsia dress was one of my favourites. It was so beautiful I wanted to take it home with me, but I couldn’t!”
“They wouldn’t let Y/N Y/L/N take a dress?”
“No, they didn’t! Genuinely can’t be mad though, they take time to make, so I completely understand not wanting to ruin a piece someone could’ve spent weeks working on.”
“Did you ever take anything from the set at any point?”
“You’re trying to get me in trouble, aren’t you?” You tease him, which just makes him laugh while shaking his head, “I did take something, yes. Can’t really confess what, but there is one person who knows what it was, and it’s just because they were my partner in crime.”
“So that secret is going right to the grave of two people?”
“That it will!”
“You only have two wings left, so let’s make it one!”
“This sounds so rude, but I cannot wait for this to be over. I’m loving everything about this, but the spice? Fuck no.”
You grab your wing and make a cheering motion, and just take a bite out of it. Maybe you should’ve gone a bit softer on the bite, because the heat kicks you instantly. It feels like a volcano eruption, which makes you feel uneasy about how the last wing will truly be.
“It’s kicking in, isn’t it?” Sean asks 
“It is! I don’t know why you’re eating this so willingly, you do this every other day, mate! You don’t have to prove anything to me, I promise.��� 
“I know I don’t, this is just my job at this point, eating hot wings for a living!”
“You could not pay me enough to do that. Mad respect, truly, if anyone needs a pat in the back, it’s you!” Your voice is nasally, and you’re sure you have a somewhat runny nose by now.
“You seem like a very sweet person, being respectful to those around you is something not all celebrities engage in. Is that something that can become hard to leave behind when filming scenes for characters which aren’t nice at all?”
“It can get hard sometimes. I don’t particularly engage with the whole ‘Method Acting’ thing many people seem to do, I find it to be unnecessary, and it doesn’t look like a fun experience.” You were trying your hardest to not start any drama with your words, but you could just see the headlines twisting your words.
“So you’d say that filming should be fun?”
“Maybe not so much the filming, but the portraying a character. I’ve seen it firsthand when an actor loses who they are because they went too far with the creative process of being a character. We’re all free to do what we please, but if it harms you or others? I draw the line there.” 
“Has there ever been a moment where being a character took a toll on you?”
“There have been quite a few, it’s not the nicest experience to be honest. I couldn’t go to work because I just couldn’t bear being called my character’s name. I obviously got over it fairly quickly because there’s not much time for tears when you’re more than halfway into a project.” You gulp, your eyes become glossy all of a sudden, evidently not because of any wing. “This got very emotional quickly, don’t know how that happened.”
This time when you looked backstage, there was a certain someone with his thumbs up looking right at you. A small smile, a fond one, formed right on your lips. 
“It’s okay, heavy questions have heavy answers.”
“Something that’s looking quite heavy is this last wing.” Sean laughs at your comment, making the small smile overtake your face in a split second.
“Now you don’t have to do this, but I sometimes add more sauce on the last wing to end it with a bang. Are you willing to join in?”
“I’m gonna regret saying yes, but why not, can’t let you do it alone now.”
The moment you say that he opens the bottle in front of him, and pours some sauce on it. You eye your bottle skeptically, the overwhelming smell of it hitting your nostrils in a split second. You don’t drench your wing like he does, just place a drop of it.
“Cheers!” 
“Cheers!” 
You are more cautious with your bite this time, you don't jump in for such a big bite. You're sure it looks like a bird is biting the wing, but you're not about to risk your tongue being burnt off. 
Your face is still stoic, and honestly, youre just doing it so your pride is not as hurt when your friends and family watch the interview. You’re sure Harry will be the first one to tease you about something, yet you can’t wait to hear everything he says, especially since he’s getting every single bit of it.
“Your face is not saying much, so how are you?” You can only respond with a cough, which makes Sean laugh.
“Not good over here! I think I’m gonna have to cave in, and drink some milk.” You’re not quite sure why your voice is so hoarse, but it’s a little funny to hear.
“Go for it!”
You gulp the glass of coconut milk, grateful that it’s not cow milk. You never liked the taste of cow milk by itself.
“Fuck’s sake, that’s lovely, best feeling ever!” You breathe out through a quiet laugh, the slightest drops of milk dripping down your face. Someone off-camera gives you a couple of tissues, and you thank them.
“Everything better now?”
“I’m not sure!”
“The good thing is this is over!”
“No more wings?” 
“No more wings.”
“I genuinely can’t believe I made it through this, especially after the 8th wing.” You say with a shudder, remembering how it burnt 
━━━━━━
“We are finally done!” Sean says, making you know that there’s practically only the credits left.
“Woo!” You cheer, pumping your fists in their air.
“Y/N Y/L/N you’ve conquered this challenge! Anything left you have to say?”
“But your tickets for ‘Don’t Worry Darling’ because it’s a great movie, and I’m so excited for all of you to see it!”
“That’s it for today, thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for having me.” You say, blowing some kisses to the cameras around you. 
The interview ends with a couple of claps, and one of the biggest smiles on your face as you try to hide your face to dissolve the attention from you.
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Comments 31K
username1: she’s my fave celebrity, if anyone asks why, i’m sending them this video 
👍 76K
username2: she kept looking at someone behind the scenes, i have the biggest feeling it’s harry
👍 24K
82 REPLIES
username3: SAME
username2: especially since they’ve both been spotted a lot together recently…
username4: props to her for being able to conceal her emotions so well, i could never tbh 
👍 19K
username5: the way sean didn’t even have to introduce her as much because she’s such a big household name
👍 59K
username6: Her outfit looks so good, Rebecca is definitely one of the best stylist’s she’s ever had 
👍 16K
37 REPLIES
username7: literally so true 
username8: top 3 hot ones interviews for sure
👍 9K
username9: whoever she was looking at, is lucky fr, she looked at them like they were holding the entire world in their hands
👍 12K
username10: her and taylor’s friendship is everything to me rn
👍 5K
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