#fuck i put native language instead of another language
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Imagine reader singing in another language to Eddie <3
tell me why i keep thinking of you handing a music sheet to him and saying, "hey, could you learn that on your guitar for me?" and he just beams at you, because you didn't even need to ask that! 'cause he'd learn anything you want him to!!! so, of course, the answer is an enthusiastic yes. no hesitation, just plain excitement to be doing something for you.
so you'll do this as a little surprise for him. because he's never heard you sing before, and never heard you speak more than two words in your native language in front of him.
and when you decide to do it, oh boy, eddie will just gawk at you. absolutely mesmerized by how beautiful you sound – no matter if you actually know how to sing or if you have the most melodic voice ever, because no matter what you do, he'll think it's absolute perfection. and since he has never heard the lyrics to the song before, it's like you're opening the door to a whole new world to him; he has no idea of what you're singing about, but you just look so good doing it that he doesn't care.
you could be calling him the worst names ever and he'd still think you look hot, falling even more in love with you.
and, in the end, you stay up all night teaching him how to pronounce the words just so you can duet together <3
eddie masterlist | main masterlist | navigation
#fuck i put native language instead of another language#sorry anon#liv answers anon#liv writes#liv talks about eddie#eddie munson x reader#tagging this as#eddie x latina!reader#eddie munson x latina!reader
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pov: you’re scarlett johansson’s wife // sfw headcanons
scarlett knows you’re in love with New York and despite having drivers that can easily bring you to one side to another of the city, she knows you prefer taking the subway. you’re favourite is the Q train where you can see the best landscapes as it’s an open train space. your wife always makes sure to pick up a spot by the door, she always says “i want to see that beautiful smile on your face the whole ride” and as you watch the train going from Manhattan to Brooklyn, scarlett wraps an arm around your waist and looks up at you with pure love.
scarlett loves how you adore your county despite its bad sides. you’re here for work so you don’t go back home as much as you would want. the last time was at christmas two years ago with all the family. little pieces of your culture are spread in the house tho, through the food, the flag you hung in your home office, some products you buy at the authentic drug stores owned by people of your home-country. you also started to teach the kids your childhood traditions, your favourite meals, your native language even. sometimes you go out in typical restaurants, or the one that claims to be typical when they’re not, and your wife has to listen you ramble about how they couldn’t make a simple dish of your land and instead ruined it. “can you believe baby? they ruined it, look at this: chicken. why? there’s no chicken in the original recipe and yet i see chicken here, why you americans put chicken everywhere?” scarlett would laugh and sometimes record your little grumbles. the kids loves when you, their mama, cook home land dishes of a culture they’re starting to feel like theirs. your wife loves when your accent rolls off your tongue when you’re tired or pissed, sometimes even when you two fuck roughly; it send her over the edge in no time. however the thing she likes the most is when you speak in your native language giving her or the kids pet names or when you whisper “i love you.”
you’re the biggest supporter ever. the way your eyes shine when you stand beside scarlett at movies premiers, it’s unmatched. you always buzz around your wife when she’s being prepared by make-up and hair-stylists taking extra time to snap some phots of her proudly. you make sure her dress is always perfect and adjust it often during the carpet. you make sure scarlett is always hydrated, not only with alcohol but with water too!, and fed because these things are stressful and your lady has to be healthy. you step back when she poses for paparazzi photos even tho she insists to have you beside her, she would softly place her hand on your chest clothed by the black jacket and shares smiles and little whispers. “you’re so beautiful, baby” or “i can’t take my eyes off you” these are the words that you find to whisper to her in that moments when your eyes are glued to her form, your hand gently cradles her back. you in the end step back giving your wife the deserved moment in the shiny flashes of the photographer’s bulbs, she poses and you look at her, sometimes you would snap a few picture too of her beside the paparazzi. scarlett would peck your lips amidst the event, they reassure you like a warm blanket and she softly pass her slender fingers to wipe her lipstick off your lips. you watch the movie with rapt attention because despite everything, before meeting her, you were and are a fan of her movies. in the end you always hug her and pepper her lips and cheeks whispering “congratulations my love, you were brilliant!”, “i can feel the oscar baby, can i start your campaign now?”, “i’m so incredibly proud of you, you’re a movie star” or “look at that baby, they’re all clapping and cheering for you, you’re so inspiring.” at the after party you both dance, engage in conversation with people and sometimes only seat at the bar together. you make sure to drink only safe drinks and let your wife party as she deserve. you take care of her and by the end of the night she’s not much sober but you steady her holding by her waist, your suit jacket always ready to shield the woman from the cold gently rest on her shoulders and her heels accomodate your feet while she wears you’re much more comfortable shoes.
scarlett started a skin care brand line with her friend and co-founder, kate foster. you, despite not knowing a thing about skin care, started to be supportive since the first day. however you didn’t know your wife would make you be a tester. you forgot how many times you ran around the house to dodge her “c’mon baby let’s try this eye cream, i swear it will be good for your eyes!” or the times she would let you sit on the bathroom sink with a blue argyle mask on your face, a hand band with the brand logo that would definitely make your curls frizzy and messy. you would groan and grumble a lot but your wife is always quick to kiss you. in the end you fell into a routine of doing this pampering ritual every night. slowly you started to learn a lot about skin care and your wife’s work. you also would crash often at her office to just bring donuts and coffee or sneak to spend more time with your wife and the team. and much to your dismay, scarlett will never stop treating you like a tester, she’s already planning on dragging you at the offie to record some funny videos of her putting on your face brand new face creams.
talking about videos, you hate cameras and photos. oh you’re the opposite of your wife in this department. you’re a diplomat, an ambassador specifically, so you barely stand in front of cameras and address speeches, a safe way to do what you love without struggling with the media press. however since you got into a relationship with your wife and got married, you quickly became a target to paparazzi’s cameras. you awkwardly stand beside your wife when you’re taking photos at the event she has to attend, but scarlett is always there to calm you down with soft touches, whispers and little pecks. “it’s okay baby, focus on me, everything’s is alright”. when they catch you in the street you go protective over the kids and wife putting your discomfort aside. “little one it’s okay, look at mama, everything is okay. scarlett, baby, come closer to me. it’s okay”. when you’re alone, you just hide behind a hoodie hood. you rarely talk to the microphones and usually only offer politely smile and shield your anxious eyes.
scarlett never saw you crying in the years you’ve been together and probably she thought she would never. this until your wedding day arrived. oh, boy! the moment you saw her walking down the aisle you started crying for her endlessly beauty and the overwhelming love you have for her. after that you cried again, much harder, when your little girl was born. scarlett loves teasing you a lot about it. you blush rolling your eyes playfully and dismissing her with a groan.
you rarely fight but when you do, and it’s always for silly things, it doesn’t take much to crack the hard shell. one of you crawl in the arms of the other not much more than 1 hour later. you’re an ambassador so your job is to make peace, after toxic experiences in your past relationship, your communication level is high and you’re lucky enough to have found scarlett that is on the same page as yours. scarlett would hold you close and kiss the crown of your head. “i’m so sorry my love, i promise to work better on these things.” you would kiss her knuckles and whisper “i’m sorry too, baby, we’ll work on them together.”
at the end of the day it’s just you and your wife. you softly sway in the gold sunrise painting your skins. scarlett arms wrapped around your neck cradling the glass of wine between her hands while she leans to ghost your lips. your hand on her hip, the other hold your glass of wine close to the chest. you both hum the song that is putted on the background while behind you food cooks on the stove and mixes with the noises of the city. it’s peaceful, it’s a paradise, it’s you and the love of your life in a life that isn’t perfect, but has a glimpse of perfection shared together.
a/n: pt.2? nsfw part?
#lesbian#marvel#mcu#natasha romanoff#romanoffthereal#natasha romanov#the outset#wlw#headcanon#headcannons#scarlett johansson x colin jost#scarlett johansson x you#scarlett johansson x reader#scarlett johansson imagine#scarlett johansson smut#scarlett johansson#scarlett johansson x fem reader#natasha romanoff x fem reader#woman x woman
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How would Leon react if he found out his girlfriend got into a serious accident? (Ex: car accident, injured at work, school, etc)
Leon would have a heart attack. End. 😅
But let's be a little serious. I love headcanons, but I write full-fledged texts only in my native language. So here are some more headcanons on this topic.
Perhaps some angst. The reader suffered greatly and did not regain consciousness for a long time.
I just listening to "I Monster - who is she?" on repeat in a slow version. Now I associate her with Leon and his girlfriend from college. I love the excessive suffering of characters in fanfiction, so as my friends say: We eat glass!
Enjoy.
- "Anything can happen to me! You can't always be ready for something! I can go outside and any accident can happen: a car accident, a maniac! Yandere, a stone will fall on my head... anything, Leon!"
Before the accident
Leon hates to think that something could happen to you. Sometimes he guards you too fiercely, trying to prevent any possible incident.
He asks you to be extremely careful, but you never take his words seriously because you did not see what he saw.
Do you like to tease him? "If I die, will I be the most beautiful dead person?" or "Will you sit on my grave when I die?"
If you tease him too much about this, he will raise his voice sharply and tell you to stop.
Leon will remind you to buckle up when you're sitting in the car. Even if you're sitting in the passenger seat! Just fasten the fucking seat belt and don't argue with him.
You don't take death seriously, considering that you are still too young to think about such things. Instead, you just enjoy life sometimes preferring the extreme. Bungee jumping? It would be better if Leon didn't know about it.
He had seen enough pain and death because of his work. Raccoon City has left a scar on him forever, so he wants you to spend your time safe and careful (no matter with people, transport or anything else)
Perhaps luck decided to turn away from you when a truck drove into you while you were sitting in the passenger seat of a car. You were turned over twice with the driver (he died).
Before you fell into the darkness, you were in pain. Very. It seems that a couple of moments before the accident, you wrote another stupid message to Leon, but now your phone is smashed to pieces, and blood flows from your head and runs down your face.
In the hospital (If reader survived)
Leon will be rant and rave to be allowed into your hospital room. This person will literally go crazy until they tell him about your condition, and God save the doctor if he tells him that there is little chance of survival.
If he saw you covered in blood and unconscious while the doctors were taking you to the operating table, then his heart will definitely stop for a couple of seconds. Leon will run after you until the paramedics stop him.
He'll remember all your fucking jokes about your death, which will put him on edge. He probably would have been sent home, but damn it, he won't leave until he sees you awake.
You can't die! You can't leave him alone in this world! He loves you so much and needs you.
Leon feels his arms and legs tremble with uncertainty. He is afraid that at any moment they will come to him and say that his beloved is gone.
Before his eyes, you are still in bloodstained clothes and a broken head.
He had deep bags under his eyes again.
Leon is ready to give anything just to keep you alive.
When a nurse comes up to him and says that you can be visited (have pity on him) Leon will jump out of his seat just to see and hear your voice.
Are you worried about your appearance after the accident? Bruises, stitches on the face, a split lower lip? Believe me, the last thing Leon will care about is your beauty and the condition of a broken manicure. He almost died when he found out about the accident, so he's only afraid that you're still in pain.
Don't even think about turning your back on him! Leon won't let you do it anyway. Kennedy does not know how to touch you properly so as not to harm you after all the injuries, but he will seek the help of a nurse so that she shows him how to take care of you properly.
He will take a leave of absence to take care of you while you are in the hospital.
Absolutely you will not be able to dissuade him from doing this. You hate feeling so weak in front of him, but Leon, on the contrary, does not understand your resistance. His loved one needs help and he will provide it!
If necessary, he will carry you to the toilet on his hands.
"There's nothing to be ashamed of!" - be embarrassed as much as you want, but your boyfriend will not leave you alone. You, like any living person, have the basic needs of the body, so Leon does not feel any disgust. Baby, I'm sure he'll wash you without a problem if you need help with this.
He will scold you if you don't rest enough or try to do something yourself despite injuries.
Leon S.Kennedy is not a hairdresser (but I'm sure he spends at least 30 minutes in the morning styling his hairstyle), however, he will try to put your hair in order. Make a ponytail or a bun? He really tries, in the end you can always turn on the video how to do it correctly and accurately.
Flowers and gifts are constantly lying by the hospital bed.
When you are finally discharged, then get ready for an hour-long safety lecture from Leon S. Kennedy, and no escape will not work. You will obediently sit and listen.
No more jokes about death!
Leon doesn't care about your scars. He will gently take your face in his palms and kiss each of them, but if you are very complex because of them, then after full recovery and rehabilitation, you can think about how to fix this matter with the help of cosmetology.
He will pay for everything, just smile again.
After the accident, this person will take even more care of you. He's had enough shocks! You almost left him alone in this fucking world, so he needs to know that his woman is okay and safe.
I think there will be at least one night when Leon will turn you around to face him when you are lying in bed trying to fall asleep and just hold you with all his strength to himself for a couple of moments forgetting about all the bruises. He will bury his nose in your neck, and it will last so long until you feel the moisture from his tears on your skin. Leon will cry, probably quietly, because he almost lost you and the worst thing is that nothing depended on him. Just let him do it. Tell him how much you love him and stroke his head while his fingers hold you tightly by the waist pressing you to the mattress.
Don't you dare leave me, angel! God, I thought I'd never be able to see you again… I love you so much if you would leave…I couldn't go on living. I need you so much.
Your his shirt was wet from his tears.
If the reader is dead
The first thing you need to know is that his world collapsed with your death.
Hannigan or one of your relatives could have called him to tell him about the accident.
If you were alive when you arrived at the hospital, then Leon would have rushed there to you right away. The scenario of his anxiety has not changed much.
However, if due to a traumatic brain injury you fell into a coma (from which you subsequently went straight to the next world), then some part of Leon was still hoping for a favorable outcome.
When he would have been allowed to see you, he would have looked at your scars and abrasions endlessly holding your hand. "God definitely hates me," he might have thought, quietly shedding tears knowing that you might not wake up.
While you were in a serious condition, he brought you fresh flowers, read your favorite novels, even if he thought they were really stupid, and put headphones on you with a quiet melody from your playlist. Leon hoped to the last that you would open your eyes.
But on the fifth day, you still died without regaining consciousness despite all the attempts of doctors to save your life.
Life is not a book or a movie. Leon didn't hear your last "I love you" or any of your words. He was left with only the messages that you wrote to him that night in the car before you were hit.
Which he didn't have time to answer.
A huge part of him is irretrievably dead. The loss of a loved one is not like everything he felt before. He really went to hell.
Why did this happen? He so protected you from any misfortune, but evil fate still overtook the one he loved.
Leon drowns his pain from loss in alcohol. The endless bottles all over the apartment would have made Claire stumble when she came to visit him.
For God's sake, he doesn't want to go to your funeral! He just can't stand it, because right now he wants to shoot himself, just not to live without your voice.
Claire noticed a loaded pistol on the table next to him.
It was a fucking accident. A drunk driver who crashed into a passenger car (taxi) in which you were sitting.
-"Why her? Out of a billion people, why her?!"
It is unknown how, but Leon was able to find the strength to come to your funeral after all. Your coffin is open to those who want to say goodbye to you one last time, but all Leon wants is to lie down there next to you. He just wants to hug you and kiss you with the hope that you will reciprocate, although he knows that this will never happen.
Tears run down his cheeks when he looks at you dead: really beautiful. Your relatives took care to hide the traces of a car accident. Leon touches your cold hand to remember for the last time what your skin feels like.
No, he doesn't have the strength to sit on your grave. However, Leon will regularly bring flowers there and brush away fallen leaves from the tombstone.
You 're gone forever.
"Is the little teaser happy with herself?" - He asks you, knowing he won't get an answer. He just stares blankly at the sky, hoping that you can hear him. - "I hope you have a good time there, because I miss you. You can't even imagine how much I miss you."
He won't be able to remove your things from his apartment for a long time.
You have to become an angel. Leon wants to think that's how you're still looking out for him. He is not a religious person and does not believe in God, but he loved you and continues to love you.
Sometimes he hears your voice, which puts him in a stupor. What if everything that happened before turns out to be just a long nightmare, and now he wakes up in the same bed with you? But he looks around and sees only an empty apartment that has been in need of cleaning for a long time.
When his longing becomes too strong, he takes out your things, trying to remember the scent of your body. He doesn't want to forget you so much.
Your picture is still on his bedside table. Even after many years.
Just know that your death means years of depression and alcohol for Leon. He hates himself that you died leaving him and he's alive.
"Just take me to your place, princess. I'm tired."
You are definitely a little scoundrel! Sometimes when Leon is too drunk, he thinks that you could have done it on purpose to hurt him. Just so those stupid jokes about death turn out to be true.
But he doesn't hate you. you will always remain his love.
However, now his desire to die is stronger than ever before, and he really hopes to see you alive, and not just in his drunken stupor
#leon scott kennedy#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x you#leon x reader#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#resident evil#resident evil x reader#dead and life#reader#resident evil fanfiction
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Normally, traitors aren’t frog-marched to the Emperors themselves, regardless of what rank of information they had. These aren’t normal circumstances, though, Techno bemoans to himself. For one, the man is refusing to speak anything but French and a tiny amount of broken Bayesh. For another, on being made, he immediately handed over about three folders of classified information then loudly waited for handcuffs to be put on him.
Phil is lounging in his throne; he’d never been one for propriety. This leaves Techno to be, uh, the actually serious one. The one adorned in uniform, sitting and glowering down. It’s lucky that the traitor isn’t a pigman, because Techno isn’t actually great at glowering, but humans are weird about pigman facial expressions so he should be fine?
The traitor stands before them and grins. In perfect Bayesh, he says: “Finally. It took way too long for you to catch me, bitch.”
Techno pauses. He stares. In Piglish, he barks to his guards: “Everyone out. It’s Leader business.”
They file out. They’ll be waiting outside. Phil straightens in his seat and reaches for his own sword.
Techno, laboriously, drags his hand across his face. He switches back to Bayesh. God, does he regret being fluent in multiple languages sometimes. “What are you doing here, Tommy.”
“Showing you your intelligence weak points, fucker. Do you know how easy it is to slip Bayesh spies in here? I was smooth. A smooth customer. I was hearing classified milkitary secrets—”
“You were caught within two hours,” Techno says.
“That’s—that’s just what you think, innit?” Tommy says. Phil laughs. He’s the real traitor here.
“Tommy. I don’t wanna have to cause an international incident, but I’ve had a really long day, so if you just tell me who hired you to run a spy op, and why you decided it was a good idea to run it yourself, instead of sending one of your experts…”
“No one,” Tommy says.
“Hey, don’t lie you little shit. Techno might not want to start an incident but I don’t care,” Phil says. He grins and holds up his sword. “You wanna wake up in a jail cell and reveal some secrets? We may all be Leaders but it won’t stop torture from hurting.”
“What the fuck, Phil,” Tommy says.
“No one’s torturing anyone. We’ll just bomb them later if we must,” Techno says.
“And I wasn’t lying. It’s—can I take the wig off by the way? It fucking itches.”
“I despise you.”
Tommy takes off the black wig, revealing his blonde hair. “Anyway, I don’t want to work with you guys either, so I figured I’d get your attention by like, acting like we’re enemies and stuff. Got hired for espionage enough back in the day to pick up that much.”
“Who the fuck wanted you as a spy?” Phil asks.
“Fuck you,” Tommy says and doesn’t elaborate.
“Please just tell us what you want,” Techno says. “Please. I can’t handle this much you at any given time.”
“This needs to be Leader to Leader,” Tommy says, and something heavy laces his words. The hairs on Techno’s arms stand up.
“You coulda asked,” he says, in one final desperate bid for normality.
“No, I couldn’t have,” Tommy says. “I think Chip’s dead.”
Techno doesn’t notice that he’s standing until he is.
“What?”
“Yeah,” Tommy says. “Yeah. And, uh, I fucking. Need your help to figure out what happened. Before we get blamed. And I know, politically, you’ve got no reason, but if we don’t figure out—”
Techno sits back down, heavy.
“I know you understand Piglish. Let me talk in my native language. Phil.”
“Yeah, mate?”
“Go get the stuff.”
Phil’s eyes darken. “Right. That. Well, I’ll be back.”
Tommy’s voice, for the first time since Techno met him as a newly-minted Leader, standing on a wooden bench and yelling about executions, is small.
“You believe me?” he says.
“Why else would you come here?” Techno asks. “Not like we like you.”
“Good, because I’m shit at infiltrations. Would have been embarrassing if you, like, didn’t know your enemy well enough to know that,” Tommy says. He’s saying something else underneath it. Techno is neither good enough at Bayesh or at Tommy to guess what.
“Let’s work out an excuse to make a treaty. And you tell me everything.”
#smp earth#WELL THAT'S A TAG I HAVEN'T HAD TO USE IN A WHILE.#a bee fic#anyway have you ever had to excise a story hook that's appeared in your head?#anyway: in which business bay gets framed for murdering chip and unfortunately as much as tommy would like the notoriety#he can't afford to let a guy who could kill chip just run around. also no one believes him.#so he goes to the antarctic empire hoping to ruffle enough feathers to at least get them out of the way#and technoblade immediately goes 'oh god something that incredibly stupid WOULD happen to you. oh no.'#AND THEN THEY ARE FORCED TO WORK TOGETHER TO CATCH THE GODKILLER#for the record. i probably won't write this.#if you're in a certain server with me please ignore how much i've been going 'but i COULD write bedrock bros' recently i PROBABLY WONT#anyway. i thought maybe you all would like this. the worldbuilding is like. ADJACENT to empires earth? with a lot of months in-between#like it definitely has influences from when i was doing the empires earth stuff.
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hello♡
I just want more louis just like you.. so how about something gentle with him, like caring for this cutie after a hard day when he just wants to be in the arms of his beloved?
if the order is bad or not interesting, just ignore
and sorry for my english, it's not my native language, heh
hi!! your english is just fine bae, let's see what's brewin' in the pot for you!
【 summary!! luis comes home not his usual self, his sweet spouse cheers him up. 】
【 content warning!! gn!agent!reader, mentions of workplace bullying/discrimination, mentions of death, slight angst, post-canon RE4 + possible spoilers, canon divergence, kissing, cuddling. a very sad luis :( 】
He didn't know how much more of it he could take.
The staring, the whispers, the dirty looks. .
What else was he supposed to do?
After Ashley's rescue, things seemed to take a turn for the better. He was granted immunity, along with a job as a researcher for the government. He was a proper researcher now, he was going to help save lives instead of standing aside as they were being destroyed.
He wanted to change, he wanted to be a better person. He wanted to try everything to atone for the past, the pain and chaos he's helped cause.
People can change, can't they?
Everyday, he'd walk into the office to make his way down to the lab. He'd catch the stares, hearing the whispers about him made the hairs on the back of his neck stand, and those looks. . those fucking looks.
"Wait- isn't that the guy who was apart of that cult?"
"What if he took out that Saddler creep so he could be boss. .?"
"What's he doin' in that lab? Bet he's making more of those sick parasites. ."
"He's probably the reason the president's daughter almost died."
He thought they'd eventually pass, that it wouldn't matter anymore. He tried his best, he really did. He just wanted to prove them wrong, that he wasn't the cultist monster they thought he was. But, he couldn't help but feel guilty.
He helped create Las Plagas, and by the time he realized his mistake it was too late. He just hoped- no, prayed that it wasn't too late for forgiveness, to pay his retribution.
He sighed, fiddling with his house key. He never talked to you about what was going on, he never wanted you to worry about him, especially about something so trivial. So, he shook it off, took a deep breath, and put on his poker face.
"I'm home, mi corazón!"
A smile on his face, he chuckles as you leap into his arms. Your arms and legs wrapped around him tight, like you were afraid to let him go.
"Ay! Where's all this coming from, eh? I'm sure I wasn't gone that long, cariño." He smirked, pressing a sweet kiss against your lips as he gently sets you on the floor, but his arms never leaving you.
God, he missed you. After another long day, he just wanted to be in your arms, just wanted to be near you. You were his home, his sweet paradise.
"I made your favorite for dinner. Go ahead and get comfortable, I'll make you a plate, babe." You say, pressing a kiss against his cheek before making your way back to the kitchen, so excited to spend the rest of the evening with your boyfriend.
He smiles as he watches you return to the kitchen before sighing as he crashed onto the couch, his hand combing through his dark locks as he finally got a moment to just be. . in peace. He was safe within the walls of your shared apartment, with such a sweet and loving partner like you here waiting for him.
He didn't deserve you. Of all people, why him?
"Luis. . you okay, baby?"
He quickly lifts his head to face you, you looked so worried. Fuck, he didn't want that to happen. How was he supposed to play this off?
He chuckled nervously, nodding, "Yes, yes, of course I am. Why wouldn't I be? I'm here, in this wonderful city with a wonderful partner and using this brain of mine to help people. I'm doing just fine, mi vida." He said, pressing a soft kiss against your knuckles after you set your plates down on the coffee table.
"Lu, honey. . I know something's wrong. You look so tired and. . over it, honestly. Are you sure that you're okay? You know that you can tell me anything, sweet baby." You assure him, caressing his cheek.
He couldn't contain it anymore. He just couldn't.
He sighed, resting his back against the couch. He finally shook his head, "It's. . been a rough few weeks, cariño. I feel like I'm barely keeping it together, if I'm being honest." He said, beginning to fiddle with his trusted lighter.
"Ever since. . you know, my co-workers look at me strange. While I'm on the way to the lab, I hear whispers and rumors, seeing those dirty looks they shoot at me. At first, I understood why. I mean, how would you react if your new co-worker used to work under a cult leader? That I stood by and let it all happen? I don't blame them. ." He sighed, flicking the lighter closed.
"I've been trying to atone for my sins, amor, I really have been. I feel. . horrible for what happened. All I wanted was to get out of that village, somehow, and I thought maybe that would be my chance. . obviously, I was wrong. I want to change, to be a better person. Ever since I was granted immunity, I've made that my mission. So far? It's going pretty damn poorly."
You could feel your heart break as you listened to him, you felt so bad. How could they? How could they just. . make those assumptions and accusations about him without actually asking for his side of events?
Luis was a brilliant man, an amazing boyfriend to you. Sure, he's done some major fuck-ups in the past, but he regrets every last thing. He just wanted to make-up for it all. He looked so sad, he never meant any harm, especially to the president and his daughter. That's why he helped when he did.
"I just. . I just want to help. I've lived a shitty life, and the moment I get a do-over. . more shit comes my way." He sighed, trying to keep his tears. They didn't deserve them, he had to be strong. But, he felt like he was reaching a breaking point.
"Lu. . whatever they say, it's not true. You and I both know that. Yes, you fucked up then, but you're making up for it now, and if they can't see that then they better not ask for your help when shit hits the fan." You said, getting a little pissed about it now. If you could, you'd kick every one of their uppity, government asses.
"You're a wonderful man, you've showed me that during that mission and you continue to show me that. If you truly were the ruthless bastard that they say you are, then you would've let Ashley die, you would've let all of us die." You say, wiping his tear away with your thumb as he looked so lovingly at you.
"Luis, I love you. You're going to help make this sick world a better place, and I'm so fucking proud of you." You say with a smile.
"I-I. . I don't deserve you, amor. Mi vida, la luz de mis ojos. What has this bastard done to deserve such love?" He whispered, finally being able to let go of his tears as he holds you close. You wrap your arms around each other in a warm embrace. He was so happy that you chose him.
"You're you, and that's all that matters, Lu." You murmur, holding him so close to you, wanting to squeeze out all those doubts and thoughts from him.
You loved him for him, and that was never going to change.
"Now, how about we enjoy dinner and some mind-numbing television? Then a nice, warm bubble bath and a movie with yours truly?" You ask, booping his nose.
He chuckled, sighing as he shook his head.
"That would be wonderful, my darling. . how can I repay such kindness and love? Would a massage suffice?" He spoke, smirking as he bounces his eyebrows, possibly hinting to something more.
You giggle, "I'm sure that'll do just fine as payment for my services."
He didn't deserve you. But, he damned sure wasn't going to fuck this up. No. . this was his second chance, and he was going to cherish every minute of it.
【 REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! 】
#x black!reader#resident evil x black!reader#resident evil x reader#luis sera#luis sera x black!reader#luis sera x reader#luis sera headcanons#re4#resident evil fanfiction#resident evil
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What type of lover they are pt.2
A/n:i hope everyone is having a wonderfull day this is the part 2 of the previous fic,i just realized that i put diluc and dottore in the same fic....if you know you know.as always english is not my native language if there are any mistakes let me know.
warnings:overstim,bondage,edging,bj,threesome,c*m swallowing,exhibitionism, fingering,!afab reader
A/n:im not responsible for what people read,ageless blogs and under 18 do not interact.
💧Ayato
💧Ayato will spoil you,whatever you ask for it will be at you disposal.from expensive clothes to home decor,he can get anything you ask for.
💧he takes you to expensive restaurants for dates and buy you gifts,when he has free time to make up for neglecting you.
💧He told Ayaka to keep an eye on you when he was away for bussiness,and you ended up becoming best friends,Ayato is extremely happy to see you both having a great relationship with eachother.
💧showing you off to people with expensive clothing he has bought you,that hug your curves perfectly,he cant help but always place a hand around your waist to show to people who you are married to.
nsfw
💧He is a fan of bondage,he will tie you hands behind your back just to see you beg for him to touch you.
💧His teasing continues to the bedroom activities too,he loves edging you,he wants to hear you whimper and whine as you get denied of your orgasm over and over again.Its music to his ears
💧finally giving you the sweet realise you were chasing after hours of edging you,what you didnt know was that this was not going to be the only orgasm that you would have for the night.
‘‘Ayato~please i cant do this anymore~’‘you beg desperetly feeling your body tired as you feel your what would be your 4th orgasm for the night
‘‘Oh come on darling,i know you have another one for me’‘he cooed ,his finger moving mercilesly in and out of you.
‘‘Ayato~,im close again~’‘you cried out,as your bosy started to tremble,feeling yourself close again.
Your body shaking as Ayato continued to finger fuck you,your walls squeezing his fingers,your mind going hazy as you reach your yet another climax.
💉Dottore
💉hes not the best person when it comes to relationships,He might be the worst out of everyone on this list,this man is mostly busy making new machinery and doing experiments,some could say hes married to his job instead of you
💉he will make small mechanisms for you to put on your desk,like small ruin guards that can move things around to help you with your chores and also remind you of his presence that a part of him will always be there watching you.
💉He likes talking to you about his experiments and asks for your opinion if you find possible mistakes that have been made or going to be made during his experiment.He always asks you for a second observasions.
nsfw
💉Dottore will make toys for you ,to occupy yourself when hes busy with work or gone in other nations for long period of time.He will also use them on you while he is fucking you too.
💉He has both taken and given you aphrodisiacs,just to see how it will affect the two of you during your spicy time.
💉He is merciless when it comes to intercourse,he refuses to go easy on you,you will be a moaning shaking mess by the end hes done with you.
💉He has let one of his segments fuck you right infront of him,while he watches.
Holding the bedsheets for dear life,the segment pounding into your cunt while the real one was stationed a few meters away from you his legs spread stroking his cock.His eyes glued at your face watching your reactions closesly.
‘‘Ah~hmph~i’m cumming’‘you moaned loudly
You could see that he picked up the speed of his hand to match the pace of his segment,strocking his cock rapidly,his eyes never breaking eye contact from yours
Both of you reaching your orgasms,with one last pump dottore spilled all over his hand while you collapse tired on the matress.
Getting up from his chair he marched closer to you,lifting your head with his hand,softly squeezing your cheeks to open you mouth.
‘‘lick my fingers clean’‘he commanded,forcing his fingers inside your mouth,your tongue twirling around them cleaning his mess.
🔥Diluc
🔥The best out of everyone,hes loving and caring towards you at all times.Though grumpy at times,he cant help but melt at your presence.
🔥he invites you to the tavern to keep him company and help him with the customers,He loves seeing you happy interacting with everyone and how they are coming just to chat with you.
🔥late night horse backriding where the both of you get to clear your head after long hours at work,you two get to open up and chat about your problems without getting interupted.Thats when he confessed to you.
nsfw
🔥He puts your pleasure over his,he doesnt care if he hasnt finished as long as you are satisfied,he is satisfied.
🔥He is always taking things slow and gentle,taking his time with you.Touching your body softly like its made out of glass that is about to break at the simplest touch.The only time hes is being rough with you is when he has had a bad day at the tavern but still he will ask you at the end if you are ok and bring you anything you need.
🔥So you decided to repay him back after taking such good care of you in the bedroom.Kneeling before him,your hands moved to his belt unbuckling it.
‘‘You dont have to do this,i will be fi...’‘He said
‘‘shhh....let me take care of you diluc’‘you cut him off and reasured him
Pulling out his cock,you wrapped your lips around the head before you started taking him slowly deeper in your mouth,as he hit the back of your throat,earning a few goans from the man above you.
‘‘fuck~ your mouth is so warm’‘you heard diluc grunting,holding his hips still so he doesnt make you gag.
Looking in eachothers eyes you saw the lust that formed in dilucs eyes.Starting to bop your head up and down into a steady pace.
‘‘Ah~ngh~’‘diluc let out low breathy moans at your actions.
Picking up your your speed into a faster one,one of your hands,moved to massage his balls,making him throw his head back from the pleasure
‘‘fuck~i’m close love’‘Diluc choked,feeling him pulse inside you mouth before realising,you removed his cock from your mouth,swallowing his orgasm.
#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact#genshin fanfic#genshin impact x you#genshin impact x y/n#genshin imagines#genshin impact headcanons#diluc ragnivindr x reader#diluc x reader#diluc headcanons#diluc smut#dottore smut#dottore x reader#ayato headcanons#ayato x reader#ayato x afab!reader#ayato smut#ayato kamisato imagines
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hey multilingual people. here's something i've wondered about in tv and movies. so like in english language media, a common joke is for an english speaker to try to say something in another language, and then instead they say something humorously wrong/offensive. for example, if you don't know how spanish phonetics works, you could fuck up saying "my name is" (yo me llamo) as "i lick myself" (yo me lamo).
so my question is: how often is actual thought put into the "mistake"? like is it a mistake a non-native speaker might make (mispronunciation, picking the wrong word, misusing an idiom, etc)? or is it just straight up nonsense?
EDIT: For clarity, I mean in TV/movie writing, how often is "bad at other language" actually written realistically versus the actor just being handed weird nonsense. Like is accidentally saying "I will slap your mother" (or whatever) a realistic thing that could happen.
#i just looked up peggy hill speaking spanish and a lot of it IS normal/reasonable mistakes (for a new speaker. not a TEACHER lmao)#like saying embarazada for embarrassed or oso instead of ojo#or apparently she repeatedly says ESCÚCHAME for excuse me?#but also for a lot of it i just plain don't know what she's saying???
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Okay I cant -- I need to say it out loud.
I am 100% sure, at this point, you are my favourite artist so far.
And I have to honestly thank you for a lot of stuff so let me get to the point before my anxiety takes me back --
I came across you less than a month ago. I don't remember if I saw your art before reading your fictions (Mon Horrible Cherì was my first) or the other way around, but both inspired me so much I can't describe it properly.
Art itself is my absolute weak spot. In my past years I always struggled working on that, I was never happy with my results, and mostly had drawn to pay bills than for my own happyness. In the end I hated it at the point that every line I drew was a cut on my hand instead of a moment of joy. And that was horrendous.
But then I came across your art, at some point - and I was amazed. Your style is something I wished to achieve years ago, or very similar to that at least, so I was totally into looking for more, and more, and more. I can't produce art of that quality, but for the first time I wasn't envious of another artist's ability and talent, I was just... Amazed.
I felt very happy, can't say why, but your style totally fascinated me. It still do. Anytime you post something new it gives me a shot of serotonine, it makes me feel happy and inspires me to get back on my Huion and draw something too.
I started to push it through everyday, and in less than a month I grew a lot. You don't know that, but you pushed me into art with a passion I didn't had since I was 16, and I turned 30 couple months ago. Now it gives me joy everytime I draw. It doesn't matter if the art I produce is no good, or if I change my style everytime (I'm trying a lot of styles right now), the only thing that matter is the way I feel when I sit here and just let my inspiration go. And I feel happy.
Happy to draw. Happy to experiment. Happy to share. Somehow I don't feel ashamed of my art anymore, and I was for a long time. I improved so much in these weeks. I watched carefully almost all of your timelapses (I am in love with all of them btw) and followed your tutorials more than once. Your examples, the way you work, is just inspirational for me. I've seen someone was thankful to you for the way you use references and says people out there to do it too: I want to thank you for that too. References was a taboo until last month for me, and I was SO wrong! Those helps so much!
So, well. I am not sure I wrote this all correctly, english is not my native language (I'm italian) and I may have done some mistakes, well, I do not care. I just hope I was able to express you my gratitude for all you did for me - I had to let you know how much this means to me everyday.
Oh also: I love every part of your art, but I could stare at your linearts for days and never get bored by that. And the way you color! Don't make me start on that. I could speak for hours. Not sure you'll want that, believe me.
So, thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Thank you for making me believe in myself again. Thank you for giving me back my passion. Thank you for reminding me everyday I can draw for myself, for my own happyness. And thank you for making me happy.
You are a great artist.
Thank you! <3
i put off replying to this because i wanted to draw you something, but i just haven't had the energy after work and dont want u to think im ignoring you 😭
but i dont have WORDS. i'm so fucking proud of you. i'm so happy for you. browsing your blog and seeing the sheer amount of art and AUs you're making is so inspiring. your happiness is contagious and i hope you only continue to grow, and continue to foster all that joy for art.
thank you <3
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Your sick s/o headcannons were adorable, Can you do one for a read who had chronic migraines?
The Black Phone's characters with a s/o who has chronic migraines:
Including: Vance Hopper, Bruce Yamada, Robin Arellano, Finney Blake
Tw: none except that reader has migraines
Author's note: Hii! Just a quick reminder that English isn't my native language!! Thank you so much, I thought the sick s/o headcanons were kinda bad tbh 🥲
Vance Hopper:
- Okay so we know Vance can be easily pissed and yells/screams whenever someone mess with him and that's a migraine trigger for you
- Like one time, you were arguing with him and because of the fact that he's loud when he argues, your migraine started kicking in 😔
- Vance obviously knows about your migraine, and always tells you to stop being so "sensitive" at first, but he always end up realizing that you can't--
- He secretly did researches on your headaches and found some tips that could ease your pain!
- So he would always end up turning the lights off and will bring you cold or hot compresses, placing it ever so gently on your forehead<3
- But don't get him wrong he would still argue with you by whispering 💀
- "- ʰᵒʷ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵈᵒ ⁱ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵈⁱᶜᵏʰᵉᵃᵈ? "
Bruce Yamada:
- Honestly he's good at sensing when you'll have a migraine 🤝
- He doesn't know much about your migraines, but he noticed some things that triggers them, so whenever it's very sunny he'll put his baseball cap on your head 😔✨
- If stress is one of your migraine trigger, he will force you to take a break from what you're doing and will hug you for as long as it takes for your headache to go away <33
- ohh and when you're at his baseball game, he knows the crowd can go wild sometimes so he bought you headphones with canceling sound mode
- At first you didn't wanted to wear them in public but he reassured you by saying that it's for your own good 🥺
Robin Arellano:
- HE IS SO GENTLE I CAN'T--
- Like I said in another post, he is organized af. Like when you're at school, instead of spending your time on the playground, he will stay with you in the hallways or in the library because it's calm yk
- Before the bell rings, he will drag you to your next class, avoiding all the mess people make when they are rushing to go to their next classes 😔
- He always has a cold bottle of water in his bag if you need one to calm your temperature or when you need to take some medicine <3
- And eventually when he has to fight someone because they fucked with Finn, he'll tell you to wait for him at your secret spot 😭 It's basically an empty classroom which is never used
Finney Blake:
- Will litteraly start a migraine diary just for you 🤌
- It contains all of the things that causes your migraines, with the frequencies of each one of them and all--
- So believe me when I say that Finn is prepared for any situation 💀
- Too much light? He'll give you sunglasses. Too much noise? He will bring you to a calm place. Feeling stressed? He'll distract you from what you're doing by playing baseball with you!
- He became kinda protective because of it because he thinks that he's the only one who knows what's good for you and what is not. Like for example he will distance you from someone who's talking a bit loudly 😔
- Like idk how to describe it, but I think Finn thinks that everyone could harm you without knowing it 💀
#billy showalter#billy tbp#billy x reader#bruce x reader#bruce yamada#finney blake#finney shaw#finney x reader#griffin x reader#miguel x reader#vance x reader#vance hopper#vance the black phone#robin the black phone#robin arellano x reader#robin arellano#finney the black phone#tbp fanfic#tbp finney#robin tbp#tbp vance#tbp x reader#bruce the black phone#griffin the black phone#billy the black phone#the grabber#the black phone 2022#the black phone headcanons#the black phone#the black phone finney
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for the fic title thing i'm roughly translating part of an italian indie song
"where i'm from a kiss and a goodbye are the same thing"
in Italian: "da dove vengo io un bacio ed un addio sono la stessa cosa"
brocedes? rosquez? it's your pick, i'm in a angsty mood 😃
so. i know im half a year late. but. i hope this little ficlet i got for you will be worth it. all the angst and all that. i took the kiss part and ran away with it. inspiration suddenly arrived after ghosting me for months. also, this snippet is part of a bigger universe, set in the 5+1 au (the fabio fic on my ao3), sometime in the future.
Marc goes looking for Fabio, but he finds Valentino Rossi. Draped across the couch like he owns the place, Valentino looks up when Marc enters the motorhome as if he expected this all along. He merely blinks in Marc's direction before his focus shifts back to scrolling on his phone.
The door closes behind Marc with a soft sound. Fabio is nowhere in sight. Neither is Tom. No one enters Fabio's place without Tom's approval, but with Valentino here, Marc guesses Tom has been updated on the latest arrangements.
Marc stalls, unsure what to do. He planned this with Fabio a weekend ago. The time, the place. Did he forget? The idea sits wrong in the pit of his stomach. Marc could leave, try another time, but he has an interview in thirty minutes, a meeting with his team right after. Training and physio later in the evening. Beauty sleep at nine if he wants a decent race tomorrow.
Fabio wouldn't stand him up unless it was important.
Marc could leave. "Do you know where he is?" He asks instead, choosing English as his language, even if he speaks Italian as well. Neither here nor there, but meeting on neutral ground. They always yelled at each other in Italian. Valentino shrugs. "Do you know when he will be back?"
Valentino shrugs again. Doesn't even look up. Marc grits his teeth. He breathes in and remembers his agreement with Fabio, his love not finite, but so abundant he feels the need to share. At the end of the day, Fabio returns to him no matter what, but as Marc looks at Valentino, he is not so sure anymore.
Marc tries again. He always did. For Fabio he will always try. "Can you tell Fabio I looked for him? We had something planned. He…he knows why."
Valentino looks up at that, finally putting his phone away.
"I speak Spanish, you know?" He smiles, Spanish words rolling easily on his tongue. "I'm not sure when blondie will be back, but--" His eyes glint, and Marc bites his tongue to keep himself from snapping at Valentino. Valentino smiles like he knows this. "Can I help you with something?"
"It's fine," Marc replies in stilted English. He needs to get out of here. "I'll talk to him later." He needs to go before--
"I can help you with the arm."
Marc wants to scream.
"No, thank you." Marc had enough. He turns to leave before--
"Marc."
Before something happens. Something like this.
Marc freezes, ignores the stirring in his veins. Valentino hasn't called him by his name in so long. For fuck's sake.
"What?" Marc's Italian has always been harsher than his native tongue, than English. It's a blade sharpened to cut. He spins on his heels, feels his nostrils flare as he looks at Valentino, at the unreadable expression on his face. "What do you think you can do?"
Valentino gets up from the couch, hands raised slightly as if he is facing a rabid dog. Marc feels like one, heart pulsing on his ears, in the back of his throat. He searches Valentino's eyes and doesn't find hostility, nor mockery.
"Fabio has told me he massages your arm sometimes," Valentino continues in Spanish. "Whenever the weather changes. When it gets cold. Whenever you injure it." He doesn't mention the accident in Sachsenring.
"The Netherlands have always been cold."
Valentino sighs and stops a few feet away from Marc. "I'm trying," he says, still in Spanish. It grates on Marc's nerves. "We--"
"You don't need to do anything," Marc says. "I don't care what you do with Fabio as long as he's happy. Just leave me out of it." Marc pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to calm down. He doesn't want to yell. He did that enough when they still told each other i love you in Spanish. Now, they're strangers, and Marc wants to keep it that way. "It's not like you can change anything."
"For Fabio," Valentino continues as if he didn't hear Marc. "We should at least try for him. At some point we're all going to be in the same room. He deserves more than-"
Marc raises an eyebrow.
"This." He gestures between them. "More than us yelling at each other."
Marc raises the other eyebrow too.
"We won't be friends again, Rossi."
"We don't need to," Valentino says. "Just let me massage your arm. You have to race tomorrow."
Marc keeps close to the door as he watches Valentino, waiting. They both know the massage won't do jack shit for him. That's not why he asks Fabio to do it. But Valentino wants something and uses Fabio as an excuse. Marc can ignore everything but that. So he nods, smiles, and closes the distance between them, brushes against Valentino as he sits down on the couch and unzips his jacket, revealing his arm. Indulging, inviting. Holding his breath. Valentino follows.
Valentino's hands are cold on Marc's skin. He tenses his whole body, forbids himself to give even the smallest of tremors as Valentino's callused fingertips run down his biceps, pressing into the ridges slowly, as if Marc is made of glass. As if Valentino cares.
Marc scoffs. Side by side on the couch, he sees Valentino looking up from the corner of his eye. "You can press harder," Marc says. "I won't break. The scar tissue is dead anyway."
Valentino doesn't say anything. He keeps working the muscles, prodding and kneading the arm, breath warm against Marc's skin. If Fabio or Tom came, Marc doesn't know what his explanation is going to be. He mulls over words inside his mind, willing time to go faster, willing his heart to beat slower. Treacherous body, always acting erratically around Valentino. Marc focuses on keeping a steady hold on himself, so he doesn't notice when the air around him shifts, when the couch dips next to him. He snaps back to attention when Valentino presses his lips against Marc's scar, where healthy skin meets the dead tissue.
Marc's breath hitches.
"Vale--"
Valentino kisses down his arm. Slowly, reverence held in the corner of his mouth. He shifts closer, fingers closing around Marc's wrist, around Marc's thigh, caging him in, as if he is afraid Marc will spurt wings and take flight.
"Vale, what are you doing?" His voice breaks, a strange tune he doesn't recognise. Or one Marc chose to forget, reserved only for the nights when Valentino took him apart in the humid Spanish nights.
Valentino's mouth slips down his arm like silk, dry lips catching around Marc's scar, hot breath living goose flesh in its wake.
Marc shivers, leans towards the heat, head turning to see where Valentino is kissing his skin, so strange, so familiar. Valentino looks up at him through his eyelashes, the blue of his irises a whisper around his blown-out pupils. They breath in unison. Valentino leans back, reaches up, and Marc tilts his head down, thinking, thinking-- They haven't kissed since 2015. They haven't touched since 2016. Valentino caresses the edge of Marc's jaw, careful, careful. Marc pushes his cheek against his fingers, thinking, thinking-- is Valentino the same with Fabio? Careful, because he could break? Or rough, the way sometimes Marc is, pushing Fabio against walls, biting under his ear to get him to shiver, because that's how Fabio likes it, because Marc loves--
Marc wrenches himself away before Valentino can kiss him. He pushes himself to the other end of the couch, almost heaving, still looking at Valentino, at the flush on his face that probably matches Marc's own.
"Marc--"
"I'm done here," Marc says in English. "We're done." He leaves without looking back, door almost slamming behind him.
Marc announces he won't race after he leaves Assen early morning on Sunday, and doesn't see Fabio before that. Not in the morning, not the night before, after his duties are done. The only thing Marc gets from him is a text.
Valentino is here. I'm spending the night with him. Fabio doesn't ask for permission. Marc is not his keeper. He's just his boyfriend. So he texts back, Ok, take care. He doesn't text, I know. I almost kissed him. Marc puts his phone on silent and sleeps alone that night.
#luna.writes#so this happened#rosquez#marc marquez#valentino rossi#fabio quartararo#mabio#moto gp rpf#moto gp fanfic#this series is a mess and im figuring it out as i write#but it feels so good to write after so long#i hope you enjoooooy#maina this one is for you too hehe#it's a three-way street au
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Kintsugi: the beauty of broken things || MYG
Summary: Yoongi and Minnie have been friends for quite some time now, almost... 15 years? 15 years since they ran into each other in that music classroom by an unlucky (or not) mistake. They've grown close, but both of them have strong characters and insecurities that will have to be put aside when Minnie falls into her own lie, risking her job in the process. They have 3 days to feel comfortable and make everyone believe their role as the young engaged couple or she is fucked :[
Pairing: musical producer! Yoongi x lab tech/science nerdy! f reader au; non-idol! BTS members make a brief appearance
Genre: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn (?), best friends to fake couple au, constant unresolved sexual tension, two idiots too proud to openly speak but pinning each other
Word count: so far, almost 25k but still unfinished
Warnings: use of bad language, mentions of insecurities/low self-esteem, anxiety, trauma; light use of weed, little smut if you scrutinize, SFW
Masterlist: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // ...
A/N: hi there! this one it's my first story to be uploaded, a way for me to de-stress from uni exams. I'm not a native English speaker, so please forgive any grammatical mistakes :/
As Yoongi said, you have to put your work out there to learn about it, so... feel free to give some feedback (as positive as you can, please). The story is halfway done, but as I have to proofread most of it and apply the holy Grammarly, uploading will have a normal pace
I'm not fully confident of my writing abilities or English use, but it is what it is, I guess
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CHAPTER 1: Surprises and planning
Word count: 7'1K
-Sup, loser.
-Hi
I roll my eyes while I flop into the sofa.
-I mean... I'm not asking for big parties but, you know, a little more enthusiasm when seeing your bestie wouldn’t hurt. Don’t you think?
The only answer I get is a loud exhale of air.
-Someone is susceptible today…
Min Yoongi.
We’ve been friends for maybe… 15 years? And what a ride.
We first met in high school, at the sweet age of 12/13. With all the hormonal stuff and changes going around… such a happy stage of life to remember, yikes.
We didn't have anything in common; he was an artistic soul while I considered, or I would like to consider myself, as a science girl. But little me saw too many talent shows with great singers and decided to give it a shot.
-Hi! It’s here where the choir practices?
-Yeah, here is where all the magic happens -I would’ve never expected such an ironic answer from such a cute-looking girl- Are you new or lost on your way to another place?
-New or that’s what I intend to be. I signed the paper in the hall and someone emailed me the instructions. Told me to come to Mrs Lars's classroom.
-Oh, then you are in the right place. She is in the storage room looking for the materials we’ll be needing today.
-Okay class -a sweet voice fills the room interrupting our conversation- please take a seat.
I signal the seat next to the girl asking nonverbally if it’s taken, and she answers that it's not occupied.
-So… today we have lots of new faces. Instead of having personal interviews with each of you, I thought that maybe it would be better and easier to have you join us for today’s lesson. That way you’ll see how we work, a light version of course. After I dismiss the class, as I told you in the email, please stay a little longer and perform a song of your liking. Any questions?
A boy asks if they have to stay at the auditions if they aren't new.
-If you want to, you can stay but if you prefer to leave, that's okay too. That reminds me: for the ones that aren’t new, welcome back; I'm happy to see you again. To y'all my pupils, I wish for a good and healthy year. Any other doubts?
Silence is the answer.
-Then, we’ll start.
The 60 minutes pass fast. The teacher is really fun and makes all the music technicalities more approachable to everyone in the room. We play some games to get to know each other's names while learning a little bit about music structure.
-Well done. That’s all for today. See you next day.
A lot of students start picking up their books and bags, and I bid goodbye to Nelly, the one with a loving face and a smart mouth. She is… interesting to say the least, but also nicer than expected.
And friendly enough to ask my dubitative ass to exchange numbers…
Now, the moment of truth: the audition. Not gonna lie, nobody here will be the next Céline Dion but they are okay. That makes me even more nervous, and it shows when my turn comes. Luckily (ironically) I'm the last one. My voice is shaky and even if I am doing terribly, they all keep a smile on their face, which I thank deeply.
Like everyone else, I don't receive any type of feedback from Mrs Lars. She just tells us the following.
-Thanks to any single one of you for showing interest in my subject. Everyone will be accepted in this class; the “audition” was just a formality to classify you in the range that fits you the best. Music is a language that unifies all humans, and even if most of them haven’t been gifted with an incredible voice or the ability to play an instrument, I won't deny the chance to learn it anyways. There’s always a role that fits you the best and I’m sure that while communication runs in both directions, we’ll have a good year. Today you saw how my class works; if you still want to join me and your classmates, the only thing needed is to send me an email by the end of the weekday to confirm it. I will reply with indications, information and advice to improve your natural talent and I want you to practise for a couple of weeks to get used to that routine and the work method. Then, you’ll be divided into groups with people who share your characteristics to work together with the things in common and have healthy feedback. Also, you can ask me when needed or use the music studios to train. I’m sure your parents will thank me -she laughs- Does that sound good?
-Yes Mrs Lars -we answer in unison.
-Ah, and also, if you don't think this is your thing and want to choose another activity, that’s okay. Not receiving the mail of confirmation I previously had talked about, will be understood as the desire to not continue. Feel free to do it if you want to; no hard feelings. This will take a lot of energy and free time, so… make sure that all the effort goes to something you like or you’ll end up despising me and music itself. Any questions or doubts?
As nobody speaks, she dismisses the class.
It took me a couple of days to decide whether I should join music or look for another option, but animated by my parents and the possibility of this helping me with my scenic fear, I choose to keep going with the idea.
Apparently, my vocal range is mezzo-soprano-contralto, which is why I have a difficult time in a higher register. Once I knew that, everything changed for me. Singing was easier and less damaging; just better. I wasn’t that good but for once I felt like my efforts were taking me somewhere.
I still needed a lot of practice, so I would usually spend some time during lunchtime (with the teacher’s permission) doing so in the rehearsal room. Unluckily, one day when I went to my usual spot, the class was already occupied by another person, so I met with my teacher to know what had happened.
-I’m sorry sweetheart, it’s my fault. I have such a big cold that the headache is making my head pound and I can’t even think straight. Would it be inopportune if I reserve the room after class so you don’t have to skip today’s practice?
-That sounds good too.
-Okay, then I will write your name in the folder -she says reaching for it hung on the wall. She seems a little confused when looking at today’s schedule
-Isn’t it possible? -I ask her.
-Oh no, everything is fine. Seems like I’ve already written the reservation in your name earlier. Must’ve forgotten to tell you when I did that, I guess that just in case, to offer you a resolution to this problem.
-Then, I’m noted to the main classroom after class?
-Yeah, you are good to go.
-Thank you.
As told, I went to the said place and started my warming exercises. After some scales, I tried “Million Reasons” by Lady Gaga, struggling with the highness of the bridge. I was stuck with that part for some days by then, and my frustration was almost visible in the form of smoke outing my ears.
I was on my…¿20th try? When an unknown voice scared me when the song finished.
-Well… that was…interesting.
-Fucking hell, you scared me.
-Not more than you did to me with your vocals.
-Excuse me?
-Apologies accepted.
Is a boy around my age and size. He wears rectangular glasses and a mostly black outfit, which contrasts with his pale skin perfectly. His eyes are quite small but ooze tons of coldness. He impassively walks to the piano in the corner and starts to get things out of his backpack.
-Mmm… What are you doing?
His dark orbs peer at me with a pensive aura, but he dismisses those thoughts and gives me rolling eyes.
-Practising.
-Yeah, I could have guessed that.
-I am not the one asking the stupid questions here.
-What I meant -he interrupts me by playing some notes- As I was saying -he does it again.
I approach the instrument he is in and put down the keyboard cover, giving him enough time to retract his hands. Ups his sight and boy, is a furious one.
-Are you crazy? -he shouts- You could have harmed me!
-Chst, nobody with two functional cells doing synapsis would have that bad reflexes so please, stop crying, you little baby.
-Excuse me?
-Apologies accepted -I deliver the sentence the same way he did to me, with a pompous smile on my face while I sit proudly in a nearby chair- Also, you deserve it. That’s what you get when trying to mess with me.
-Oh, was I disturbing you? Sorry, I didn't want to. I’m so distracted -what he says in a pitying tone doesn’t match the challenging look in his eyes and the smirk he isn’t even trying to hide.
-I can tell -I bark back the same way- Anyway, as I was saying before you decided to be a cretin, what are you doing here?
-Judging based on your singing skills maybe…you aren't aware that this is a music classroom? You know, where musicians do their thing -speaks ironically
-Of course I know where I am. My doubt is what are YOU doing here at this time. I made a reservation with Mrs Lars.
-Me too.
-That’s impossible.
-No, it’s not. Since I did. You must be wrong.
-No, you are -I fight a little offended.
He rolls his eyes.
-Okay. Let’s search the classroom schedule Mrs Lars keeps in her office and you’ll see your mistake -decides while clapping his hands together and getting up.
-You must mean YOUR mistake -I clarify while imitating his gestures.
I follow him to said office, where he signals to a folder hanging on the wall. He goes through it while searching for today’s schedule and once he finds it, aggressively puts his finger in the initials “M.Y”
-As I was saying, you are the one wrong -he says proudly.
-What? Those are my initials!
-No, they are not. They are M.Y. as in Min Yoongi.
-No, they are M.Y as Min Young Mi.
We look at each other kinda confused.
-I guess Mrs Lars must have committed a mistake while writing our names because of the similarities -he thinks out loud.
-You think so? -I reply as ironically as I can. He rolls his eyes.
That evening was the beginning of what we like to call “The Valerian War”. As stubborn as we were, any of us was willing to give in to the other. None offered to leave or neither changed the reservation for the evenings that followed, so we played mental resistance war, and it got so bad that we needed some valerian infusion to support the evils that we did to each other so that the other would surrender.
Some favourites were him cutting my microphone wires or playing a recording of my voice on the school’s radio for everyone to listen to. I gave back by making good use of a 2x3 glue thrift offer. I was almost sent to the other world when he had to walk back home with the piano’s bench cushion glued to his butt or with music sheets united to his hand.
Eventually, with little acts of kindness by both sides, we started to open up and help each other (he assisted me in musical stuff while I improved his anger management) and we reached the point where we were looking all day to that moment of the evening. It took almost a year and a lot of Nelly’s talks to finally admit that we enjoyed spending time together. Slowly but surely, we started meeting out of school till becoming besties. We had a lot more in common than we thought.
-Call me stupid but-
-Stupid -he interrupts me without hesitance.
-Min Yoongi, be careful with your words, I have your mom on quick dial.
-So childish that is almost sad.
-Would she think as childish that you signed a big contract with an important company and didn’t say a word to your family? I guess I can just ask her -my tone is a mockery one.
The keyboard typing stops followed by a dry laugh.
-You dirty bitch. Must be desperate to threaten me with that.
-It’s just that… I’m frustrated.
-Sexually?
-No. Well… That too. But no.
He quietly laughs.
-Maybe I can lend you a hand.
-Yeah, in my neck to cut the flow of air? -I ask acidly but then my black humour needs to make an appearance- Actually, that’s not that much of a bad idea. One lifetime occasion where I would let you commit the desire of killing me without getting angry about it; I promise.
-Mmm, kinky. If that’s what you want… -he spouts with a teasing tone and a smirk.
-What?
I’m no stranger to letting my intrusive thoughts win over me and make it aaaall the way to my mouth without realising it, so when he answers I have to replay the last section of our conversation to understand what he means.
-Ugh, you are disgusting.
-Yeah. I think how disgusting it is that I know you so well, that I am genuinely not surprised about you having a choking kink.
-I… I don’t have a choking kink -I defend myself by putting a brave face on when I actually kind of like that stuff.
-Yeah, right -he answers in a disinterested way, turning back to his computer- Just so you know…next time you try to lie as much as you are doing, tell your red cheeks to not make an appearance. It gives it away.
I take advantage of him not looking at me to raise my hands and check if they are matter-of-factly red, which are. I clear my throat in the need of changing the subject.
-Till now all you said has been really helpful, you know? -I say rolling my eyes
-Till now you still haven’t said a word about your problem, apart from your need to get laid, of course.
-The thing is that I messed badly with my boss -I purposely ignore the last sentence and he lets out a little laugh because of it.
-What makes you think that?
-It’s not something she said or did. Actually… It's my fault.
-I doubt it… but would you mind explaining? -he still has his back facing me while clicking the unwired mouse, something that will make the next thing I have to say a lot easier.
-Do you remember when you got appendicitis and had to stay at the hospital? And then when you needed help when sent home?
-How would I not remember?
-Well… The thing is that to convince my boss, which I already told you, is a hard one… I had to lie. A lot.
That seems to catch his attention because finally turns to face me.
-When you mean a lot, how much are we talking about? You said everything was okay with you taking those days off.
-I think we have already established the point that I am a ‘liar, liar, pants on fire’.
-So… What did you tell her?
-Mmmm… I knew some of my coworkers asked her for some days off because of a friend or a relative being sick, and she always rejected them except when they talked about fiancés, husbands or sons; that kind of stuff. So to make her accept my petition, I made her believe it was about my fiancé.
-You said what?
-I basically said all the truth but omitted that you are only my friend. I completely made up a story about my hardworking fiancé, who fell sick, and has no other family around than me to take care of him… It was a little white lie, but when I was back to work everyone was nice to me, even my boss.
-Why don’t you tell them that you broke up?
-That was my plan, I swear. Buuuut, I started to talk a little bit here and there about him being an asshole, like getting ready to break the news, you know? Buuuuut that made them even nicer to me! Never knew criticising a partner would unite us that much.
-My surgery was last year…have you been lying to them for that long?
-Yeah…
-And didn’t they suspect anything when a year passed and still no wedding was in sight?
-Yes, but I explained how as we were both busy with our respective jobs, trying to save money for it, and having some trouble in our relationship… had decided to take it easy.
He seems lost in thought, with the elbows resting on the armrests of his chair and fingers brushing his chin. Then laughs, crossing his arms over his chest.
-Well, well, well. When I think that you cannot surprise me anymore, here you come.
-Yeah, really funny how this will end with me getting fired.
-Don’t be silly. They’ll never know.
-That’s what I thought till my company decided to celebrate a ball to raise funds for their project about breast cancer. And everyone expects me to bring my said fiancé to meet them.
-OMG you are such a loser.
-I don’t know why I came here expecting some support. Seems like today is not the day you want to deal with my stuff -I get a little angry because he doesn't understand how bad this is and how much I’ve been stressing the last few weeks trying to find a solution.
-Minnie, you know that’s not it -he quickly answers.
-Don’t worry. It’s my fault. By now I must have put in my mind that while you are working don’t wanna be bothered by others' banal stuff -I recollect my bag and start my way to the door.
I feel his hand wrapping around my wrist, trying to stop me.
-Stop it. I don’t wanna bother you.
He sighs and uses that hitch as a way to put me closer to him and after that, sit me again on the couch.
-Yeah, you are a pain in the ass, but even like that… you’ll never bother me when it’s about struggling with something, so… don’t say that.
-That’s how you made me feel.
-And I’m sorry about it. When it comes to words, we both know that I’m not the best to be sensitive.
-Except with your lyrics -I half-joke to reassure him.
I feel bad to react this way because he has a life too and here I am burdening him with my problems; all because I am so weak that I drown in a cup of water.
-Yeah, except for my lyrics -says way softer.
-Ugh, I’m so messed up -I groan while hiding my face between my hands and laying back.
-Yeah, a little bit but, what are you going to do?
-What do you mean?
-I know you, so I expect you to have something in mind already -he says palming one of my knees while still sitting in his chair.
I drop my arms to my sides, tired.
-No. Well, technically yes, but not anymore.
-What?
-I had a plan but not anymore because things didn’t go the way I expected.
-How is that?
-Don’t wanna hear you say anything about “I warned you”.
-This is going to be good -he whispers loud enough for me to hear it, but after giving him a death stare, motions his mouth getting zipped and throws the key away.
-The obvious solution is to have someone pretending to be my fianceé. After wondering who would be the best option I asked Jim to fill that role because, you know, we were kinda hooking up.
-What did he say?
-Like cartoons. I was almost able to see smoke in his dashing foot.
-Told you so -whispers again with a smirk.
I want to save energy, so my only answer is to roll my eyes. It's not like I could deny it because he, in effect, told me that.
When I started to meet Jim, equally scared of commitment as me, Yoongi warned me about how he would never be the one for me. How under the sweet gestures and amazing chemistry, we were only two people wasting time. How he could, maybe, let me down when I truly needed him. He wasn’t wrong. While explaining this whole issue to Jim, he was losing all the colour on his face because I told him that he would have to pretend to be in love. Pretend. I didn’t love him either but I was expecting the both of us to put on a little show of it.
But Yoongi knows that behind the façade I put saying that I don't want serious business, the reality is that I'm just searching for the right person to let my defences down. But to find it and as a scientist, I must do trial and error. Right?
-Then I contacted everyone in our group but all of them are occupied with close notice, and since my family is away, I can’t ask a cousin or something. Not to mention how weird it would have been -I shake my shoulders trying to shake the disgusting image of my mind.
-What about a random person or a gigolo?
-I don’t have enough time to teach somebody the full ass history of how we fell in love or the money to pay for it. Also, I'm trying to avoid paying for another human till I'm 70 and alone, with the only company of my 5 cats. Thanks.
-That’s all?
-I started to pretend that I’m falling sick to have an excuse, but everyone seems suspicious of me. If that doesn’t work, I’m fucked up. For real. That’s my last chance.
-As I see it, that’s not your last chance. You forgot about something.
-I did?
To say that I am confused is an understatement.
-Yeah you fool -he smiles widely and reclines in his chair with crossed arms.
-I…don’t…follow you.
-Me.
-You what? -My confusion is at the ceiling level.
-Me -He repeats with open arms- You forgot me.
Is this what I think it is?
-Stop frowning -and I do at his call- I can't believe you didn’t try to ask me.
-You are joking, aren’t you?
-No -he turns to the computer shrugging.
-Wait, wait, wait -I turn him to face me by the armrest- You, Min Yoongi, THE Min Yoongi, are offering to be my ‘date’ for an event at my workplace?
-God, don’t put it like that. But yeah, the answer is yes. I don’t know why it seems so unbelievable to you.
-I didn't ask you because: 1) I was ashamed, 2) you and I aren't precisely the most comfortable with touching or sweet words, and 3) and the main: aren’t you visiting your hometown this weekend? I know how much you’ve been looking forward to it.
-Yes, I was. But you are crazy if you think that I would let you lose your job for it.
-But you’ve worked so hard… you deserve that break.
-Listen and stop being stubborn. I know that your job is as important to you as mine is to me, not to mention that if you are in this position it is because of me. So… the fair thing is to be the one helping you out of this situation.
-You realise that we will have to pretend that we are in love, right? -I say carefully.
-I pretend that I like you every day so, I don’t think it will be that hard.
I know he says it to make me laugh and take the iron off the matter, but I can’t help smacking his thigh while giggling.
-What preoccupies me is you; would you be able not to fall in love with me?
We both laugh, knowing that it’s impossible.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I’m completing my look with sparkling earrings and I look at myself in the mirror. Not bad.
I’m wearing what I consider my slutiest outfit: a baggy long-sleeve dress with a deep v-neck and which long is mid-thigh. The cloth resembles black silk but falls beautifully around my curved body, adjusting in the places it should to remark my features. I added all the sparkly accessories because they contrast greatly with my tanned skin and the dress itself, but I guess all seems blurred compared to my boobs. Those girls are looking great tonight.
My hairstyle and makeup are a little basic, but enough to make me feel pretty.
While applying perfume someone rings the doorbell. I’m ready on time, so taking all my stuff and a false pink fur coat, I open the door.
I have to admit it, he looks stunning. Yoongi is wearing black skinny jeans with a white t-shirt tucked in, black combat boots and a green bomber jacket. All prettily completed with silver accessories and his long ginger hair slightly gelled back on the sides. My favourite look on him.
-Why aren’t you wearing high heels?
That comment is enough to get me out of my trance, but I understand it; that’s the only part of my outfit on display.
-Is bad enough to be wearing ones for the ball, so yes, thank you, I won’t be torturing myself tonight -I explain as I close my house with the key.
-You were the one who had the idea of dressing in the clothes the other likes most.
-I’m wearing everything you asked for except for the heels. Relax.
-Let me see.
-Hell no, it is freezing here. You’ll see once we get to the discotheque. C’mon.
-I don’t trust you. At all -he whispers but follows me to the taxi stop.
This is part of the amazing plan we made together on Tuesday night. Not the best idea but…it will have to do the work.
The ball is on Friday so we have a couple of days to make us believable as a couple. Tonight, Wednesday, part one is in development. We’ll go to drink (a lot) and dance in a public place and act as partners in love. Is like practice for the real situation and luckily, as I suggested, dressing in a way the other likes will make it easier to dissociate the image of best friend that we find disgusting to act in love with.
We have two days to be comfortable with holding hands, him holding me for the small of my back, me hanging into his arm, hugging and… kissing. Not fully making out, like little pecks. Or at least that’s the order both of us come together to decide as necessary to give the ‘’living in the honeymoon stage of relationship’’ vibes.
Tomorrow we will work on our love story, pet names and all that stuff. Maybe we’ll have to buy some alcohol for it too.
-Should we…maybe…start? -he asks, looking the other way.
-I think I need a couple of quick shots before.
-Thank God, me too -laughs.
I signal to a bar near us that won’t make us change our direction fully, and he agrees.
-Please, four shots of tequila -Yoongi orders to the bartender, and I am grateful for that amount.
Since I am the one using his help, I want to invite him. He gives me bored eyes and tries to take my money away from the counter, but I push him a little bit and open my coat to let my neckline on the view of the young bartender.
-Please, accept my money. You can keep the change as a tip -my voice is as sweet as I physically can and I bat my eyelashes. It works because he takes my money a little bit flustered and his only answer is a nod. I laugh to myself and close the coat again, turning to my friend, who is downing his first little vase.
I take one making cheers in the air before ingesting the hot liquor.
-You know… what you did is not fair.
-What do you mean? -I play dumb.
-You know what I mean -he says before drinking his other drink- That poor boy… I would be surprised if he doesn't end up hard as wood.
-Why is that bad? Dozens of men look at my ass or boobs without any intention on my side or dressing to “provoke” them. It’s not my fault that in this patriarchal society, women are so fucking sexualized that men think it’s okay to do it. He would have looked at them anyway if I weren’t wearing the coat so excuse me for using that in my favour instead of against me - I drink my last shot.
He looks at me kind of speechless, but after clearing his throat he says “When you are right, you are right”.
The cold air receives us in the street, but the burning sensation in our stomachs is a great contrast. We decide to go walking to the discotheque since it isn’t that far and after ten minutes of comfortable silence, I start to feel the alcohol quicking in in the form of an unexpected laugh.
-What happens? -Yoongi seems confused but laughs too.
-This situation… is ridiculous.
-I know.
-But again, thank you. You are saving me from a good one. I owe you.
-Don’t be stupid, we are best friends. You take care of me and I take care of you. That is how we have always worked and how it will always work.
-Wow, alcohol is getting into you too? You are speaking mindlessly.
-A bit. A long time has passed since I last drank something; work has been… crazy.
-Same for me. Maybe it is a good moment for…you know.
-First step?
-Yeah, first step. Are you okay with that?
-Of course.
We look at each other's hands and making a brave move, I'm the one initiating the motion. His are colder and slightly bigger but feels surprisingly comfortable to intertwine fingers and sense his even colder rings brushing with mine. That heat difference sends a shiver through my body.
It’s not like we have never held hands in other contexts. We do, for example, while walking in a street full of people or in a comforting situation and stuff like that, but it is our first time to do it without a physical or emotional need.
-How do you feel? -I ask cautiously.
-Weird, not gonna lie.
-Me too.
-But it’s not the first time we held hands and I have to say that luckily you feel warm.
-Yeah, you are freezing man -the tension weakens and we start to walk again, still hand in hand.
-I forgot my coat and when I realised I was already too far. I expected to be in a taxi and drunk so I didn’t take it so seriously. Now I’m regretting my choices.
I can’t stop a laugh and he does the same, showing a gummy smile.
-I can work with that. Grieving for my frozen-to-death fiancé is a good excuse to go to the bloody fundraiser alone.
-Then, who would listen to your nonsense anxious babbling?
-You aren’t my only friend, you know that right?
-They simply can’t compare. Even Nelly.
-Yeah, they can’t compare because nobody reaches your level of pettiness.
-That’s what we have in common you and I, my friend.
Our bickering continues till we reach our destination, where it is time to start the practice. Reading my mind he offers his arm for me to cling to it while still holding hands; a typical pose of couples who’ve been together for some years.
-IDs? -the bouncer asks us.
Once he checks that we are above 23 (a way to only let in adults) the heat receives us when we cross the door. The decoration is beautiful and serious, way different from what we are used to.
-Everyone here seems a little off, don’t you think? -Yoongi asks me.
-Yeah, I guess the age requirement takes away the younger spirit. You know this place is for people who want to have a good night but not that “wild”.
-If this is what awaits me once I establish a serious relationship, I’m definitely staying single.
-Bold of you to assume that you’ll find someone who can keep up with your antics. It’s not like you are turning love proposals all day.
His elbow pinches at my ribs for making fun of him and I laugh.
-You are one to talk… Also, I have some game so… your words don’t offend me miss “Please help me because my ashole of a hookup can’t even pretend to be in love with me”.
-Yeah, that was because he knew that once he started pretending, it wouldn’t be pretending anymore and I’m too much of a woman for him.
-Sure -his eyes are mocking me.
-Let’s grab some drinks, stupid.
He straightly asks for a whiskey, his favourite drink, but I order a rum with coke. He offers me to taste it and I’m dumb enough to do it, gagging at the flavour.
-You have an easy gag reflex, maybe now I understand why Jim dumped your ass so easily.
-Don’t worry hun, it’s only related to alcoholic drinks and he surely dumped me but my ass felt a great loss to him -I cheer my drink with his.
He gives me an unreadable stare while swallowing the odd savoury liquor.
I hate to admit it, but he looks smoking hot tonight. I can’t put my finger exactly on what it is, but something of him making dark humour about Jim while staring at me in that mockery way and gulping whiskey like water… is entrancing. Am I that sex deprived or what?
He frowns one eyebrow trying to guess what's on my mind and just the possibility of him being able to decipher my thoughts has me blushing.
-Is hot here. I’m going to the wardrobe to leave my coat - I excuse myself while getting up from the stool.
-Want me to accompany you?
-Oh, no. Don’t worry. I don’t think it will take me that long.
I join the wardrobe queue a little anxious. Just thinking of what awaits me these days stresses me; it’s really out of my comfort zone. I take the coat for the smiley girl behind the counter to take it.
-Wow girl, you are stunning.
-Thank you, I hope my… boyfriend thinks the same -the b-word gets a little stuck in my throat.
-If he doesn’t… take him to the doctor. That would mean he has his sight damaged. Or better, come back and I’ll make sure you have a good time -she says winking and giving me a little key with a number.
-I’ll keep that in mind -I answer a little flustered and return to where Yoongi is waiting.
He is turned to face me, elbow resting on the bar and cup playing in his hand in circular motions. He eyes me up and down and licks his lips, and I have to put all the effort in me to keep walking like nothing and not choke on my air.
He must have noticed my nervous state because this time, decides to directly ask.
-Oh, I was a little shocked -I answered because… well, that is true- The girl in the wardrobe made a move on me suggesting that if my partner doesn’t like me or something, she will take matters herself to give me a good time -that is also true.
-She did?
-Yeah, why is it so hard to believe? -I am a little offended and I chug down the rest of my drink.
-Not that is hard to believe, but… Do you like girls or something now? -he seems genuinely curious, trying to assure me that anything I say next, will be well received from him.
-No, this isn’t me coming out; sadly I’m still into men. Just… is nice to have someone complimenting me even if I’m not into girls -a change in his gaze is noticeable, and that’s what makes me realise that maybe he feels like I’m implying something else that I’m not- Anyways, I thought that she was nice and a funny anecdote. Do you want anything else to drink?
I can almost see him shaking his head to get rid of whatever was going on there and nods, chugging the remains of whiskey, which makes his Adam's apple move up and down. He has a nice side profile, I’ll admit that too.
Once we have refilled our vases, we start a little conversation about our works and how excited he is that his first mixtape is in the final steps to be published. Only the photos and the design of the cover are missing, which will be arranged on Friday morning, previous to the gala.
-I can’t believe that you didn’t let me listen to it.
-I want you to see the final product, to see the full concept like the rest.
-Still… I can’t believe that you are doing this to your very first fan. I guess from now I will have to fight with all your new fans for a little attention.
-Like you ever had it… -he smirks and I hit him in the arm.
-Maybe I should start stanning other rappers, Namjoon is doing great with his mixtape. At least he appreciates me a little bit.
-Yeah, he would appreciate having you under his sheets. Well, he and the rest of the boys of the studio.
-Don’t be silly, we are just friends.
-Yeah, because no friends in history have ever hooked up, right?
-Not me at least.
-Because you are good at friend-zoning without even noticing. It’s really fun to watch them all try to have a date with you. I will tell you more, we have a bet going on.
-What? Stop joking.
His gaze is devilish, but his face remains serious; that’s how I know that he is being honest. He funnily grins while drinking and I just blush.
-Seriously? I don’t know Yoongi, that seems fake.
-Kinda is, kinda not. At the start, when they first meet you, they, believe it or not, wanted you as something more than a friend. After some time trying and failing, they accepted that it was impossible. However, it is still a joke to make moves on you to see if you notice but I know that if you give them any signal, they would be moving their tails like the dogs they are.
-That's what the bet is about? For how long has it been going on?
.Around… I don’t know. Two years maybe?
To say that I'm speechless is an understatement.
-Who’s in that bet?
-All the group?
-Even… you?
-I guess… but I like to think of myself as a judge in all this. It wouldn’t be fair to them if I played at their level since I’m your best friend.
-Oh my god, you are so full of yourself.
-Why?
-You think you can win against the others with that dumpling-like skin and that skinny body of yours? You wouldn’t be able to handle me. Jungkook or Namjoon? Definitely.
-I would prove it to you, but once you get a taste… you can’t go anywhere else.
Scarlet cheeks are my only answer to that.
-And what’s the prize of that bet?
-Free pass with you if you want it too.
-Ugh, and you are part of that?
-Now you are the one full of herself. If I win maybe I’ll be able to trade that for some equipment my studio is missing.
-I’m not an object you can use to “trade”.
-Of course you aren’t. Of course.
He pats my head messily and I can see a glint of fun in his eyes, which in Yoongi’s language means that he feels a little tipsy. He’s not the touchy type at least he has some alcohol flowing through him.
Honestly, I know that I should be a little angry with this whole bet thing but I am not. Yes, is a little weird that all of them are in this but at the same time… I know they would never hurt me or take advantage of me in that way. Also, I have to admit that sometimes I do second checks of them because… holy cow, they seem like some greek marble-carved figurines that came to life. So.. am I the one to blame?
Not to mention how lovely and protective of me they all are; I can’t remember a time when I didn’t have had their support for whatever stupid thing I was trying or a warm hug if I needed it. I guess this thing is a friendly joke I wasn’t aware of but thanks to alcohol-induced honesty in Yoongi…I’m going to have MY fun with it.
-Now that you have told me this, who has won? You are destroying it.
-I suppose the first you flirt back to and I told you because… two years?? At this point, we all know that the bet was never going to end. Why? Now that you know, is your interest in any of those assholes?
-Maybe…
-Who? -I know this caught him by surprise.
-You will have to give me more drinks and a couple of dances to know that. Decide your strategy while my trip to the bathroom -I laugh at him and make my way to the service room.
I’m not interested in any of them, but as I said, it’s my turn to have some fun with it and poor Yoongi, he’s my first victim. We have some bond to do to look like a couple, right? Well, I will take this as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
->Chapter 2
#agust d#yoongi#suga#min yoongi#bts x fem!reader#bts x reader#bts yoongi#bts fanfction#bts x curvy reader#yoongi x curvy reader#yoongles#yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#yoongi x oc#yoongi x y/n#min yoongi fanfic#min yoongi scenarios#haegeum#dday#producer yoongi#bts au fanfic#bts au#bts aus#bts army#bts stories
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So this was really fun. 👀 A couple of highlights for and thoughts from me:
Oh my god, these stupid vampires in my domain have no idea how good they have it with me just asking for money when I could simply hunt them for sport instead and get rid of the problem. Call me a capitalist bunny all you want (yes, my symbol is a rabbit), you dumbasses are LUCKY!
I hope there will be some sort of way to lay down the law because again, these idiots are attracting too much attention and I can't believe Erin or whoever didn't come to talk to me just yet (beyond that moment at the club with Erin trying to influence MC but MC shrugged it off like a boss). Their talks of revolution and influence and peace so far read like lip service. Fucking faux-anarchists
I play as a teenage parent with a child, and I can just imagine Minjo looking at this baby-faced young parent and going "Poor thing". I didn't even realize she was an RO until the swimming class and while I am set on Illya, I am so excited to befriend her. Also hoping she will be able to put a good word in with the werewolves because...
I play on brewing Blackwell's crap for Gaius. For which I need werewolf blood but hey, no one said I have to take it by force! Praying like hell I will be able to reach an accord with the pack to get their blood to keep Gaius happy and under control
Speaking of Gaius, I chose to learn Latin and I was able to understand them. But considering Latin is the base language for many Romance languages like Italian (which is said to be the closest to Latin), French (the furthest) and Spanish (the middle), could it be possible for MC who speaks any of those languages to be able to decipher SOME of what's said between Gaius and his henchman whose name I just forgot (Lucian? Lucius?)?
Now, speaking of languages, could MC be a native speaker to a non-English language themselves? Could be interesting and leave up room to learn another language
I am gonna kill that fucking hunter the second I get my hands on him, simply because he knows about MC's child and I refuse to allow him to have a bargaining chip over me
I love this. 💙
Just quickly: I'm sorry but I'm not planning on programming any more language options into the game. I'm sorry about that.
I am really glad you're enjoying the story. You will have other opportunities to talk to the fledglings, attack the hunter, and befriend Minjo. 💙
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Heaven Is In A Shortcake {xv}
three words plus one = I HAVE RETURNED.. temporarily lol
disclaimer: The Gray Man and the characters are NOT mine, even the reader. I only own the plot and the reader's character lol. Pictures used in the fic are NOT MINE, but only the edited version (u can msg me if u ze owner); credits to the rightful owners and canva + weheartit. Additionally, I am not a Subic/Zambales native, so my apologies for any wrong locations, descriptions, or languages.
Six x F!Reader / Courtland Gentry x Female Reader
warnings: moderate amount of swear words. some filipino dialogues. slow burn. fluff. trust issues. dramaramramamama. comedy if you use a magnifying glass. culture shock. word count check. slightly proofread/revised.
CHAPTER SELECTION IS IN THE ✨Masterlist✨
Chapter 14 is prolly a deer now
Chapter 15 is the moment
word count: 2.7k
(N/N) = nickname
*Kiara = Clare
*Kurt = Court
*cover names = reader doesn't know YET (except you do know #wreckthe4thwall)
"Shit."
That's one way to put it.
You glance over your shoulder. "Puta."
That's another way to put it.
Cuss all you want, you deserve to— especially with two cars hurtling right behind you, as though with the intent to make you crash.
"Tangina!" you shout when one of the cars, the white SUV, speeds up to your left and prevents you from driving towards the Hotel Interpark.
You take a wild gander around the street, where there’s not a single soul in sight. Probably because of this fucking rain!
As though the thunderclouds heard your insult, the downpour becomes stronger; a little more and the thick raindrops will be like waves crashing down from above.
You drive faster now, maintaining your balance, and you turn right, weaving into a street that’s partially being remade. You switch to the lane that’s under construction and you’re thankful for your experience in riding motorcycles on tough roads.
There’s a nearby restaurant— with workers still inside!
You're about to honk to gain their attention but a bump from behind threatens your equilibrium. You swiftly steady the motorcycle and veer left into a street. You take a gander, despite the parked cars and opened lights in the building, no one is witnessing you fleeing for your life.
"Fucking hell!" you roar, harshly twisting the accelerator.
Just as you burst out of the street, you're about to turn left when headlights swallow you. Luckily, your instincts kick in and you haven't released the accelerator. If you had slowed down then, the black Honda Civic would've crashed into you. Instead, it hits your rear wheel; you attempt to balance once again, but the force this time is too much.
Lightning strikes the earth at the time your motorcycle pummels into the ground. You're thrown off into the curb, ignoring the pain flaring across your body, you shuffle up and head for your motorcycle. But you stop when you see your pursuers are already out of their cars. You hastily swivel away and hurtle into the trees.
You then realize your location: Waterfront Park. Even in the evening, this park is typically spotted with people; but the rain has metaphorically washed them away indoors. Just your luck. However, before despair can shackle you, you will yourself to fight and use your head. You know there's a lot of establishments nearby, but only a few of them are still open at this hour. You see it even from afar, the ray of light— The Reef Hotel & Residences.
You hightail towards the treeline. Just cross the park— that's your success to escape, because once you're out on the street, the guard at the hotel will surely notice you.
You're about to exit the treeline when someone tackles you back beneath the shadow of the woods. Everything spins, disorienting you for a second until a biting pain courses through your nerves. You let out a cry when you feel as though your elbow has split open. The guy who tackled you is trying to grab your arms. Thankfully the streetlights still manage to reach into the darkness of the park, you find yourself on the ground and spot the guy's knee, which you give your mightiest kick, and when he doubles over, you cut off his pained squeal with a kick to his face.
Upon rising up to your feet, another guy clutches at your arm. You spin to face him, jabbing his throat with your free hand. He releases you, and you run—
THWACK!
—into a fist. Pain explodes across your temple, where the hit forcibly landed, and you're reeled into blackness. There's a ringing in your ears, it's somewhat scolding you for not taking the rape whistle that Mindy gifted you. You ponder on where you put it and realize it's in your locker in the cafe's staffroom.
If you had it with you, you could've gotten some attention.
Your inner self smacks her lips— So, why didn't you press the motorcycle's horn instead?
As your stupidity dawns on you, your bearings slowly rebuild itself. You then find yourself restrained; mouth stuffed with a cloth and hands tied behind your back. And you're draped on some guy's shoulder. You thrash as you try to peer where they're taking you— to their cars parked at a spot where no one was around. Your strength doubles as panic and adrenaline surges through your nerves.
You try to scream, but it's muffled.
Despair begins to leisurely brim your eyes.
"Patulugin niyo muna nga siya! Masyadong maingay at malikot!"
(Knock her out! She's too noisy and squirming a lot!)
They roughly set you down with your back on the ground; the guy who was carrying you is now holding your ankles down. Another guy then crouches above your stomach and pulls out a switchblade; you freeze, shock slowly morphing into fear, and you try to relax as you ponder on how to get out.
"Tama 'yan, wag ka na magulo o masasaktan ka pa." the guy atop you says and, lightly tracing the side of the blade on your neck, he unzips your jacket.
(That's right, don't be naughty or you'll get hurt.)
He lifts the hem of your shirt with the blade and they all whistle at your bare skin.
You squeeze your eyes, tears flowing through.
"Nasa'n ngayon ang tapang mo?"
(Where's your courage now?)
They all share a laugh, the hyena kind, and thunder claps across the heavens. No one will hear them. But that isn't what scares you, what scares you more is the fact that—
No one will hear you.
You struggle, he taps the blade on your stomach, and you stop. He then raises your shirt over your bra and your eyes snap open. You begin talking through your gag, which the guy finds annoying, so he pulls it out of your mouth.
"M-May pera ako," you blurt out, breathing erratically.
(I have money,)
"Don't worry, we already have it." one guy holds your backpack up.
"But what we want more is you."
"Aren't you lucky?"
They all start yammering how giddy you must be feeling. Wanted by one too many guys. But they know very well it's quite the opposite.
Before you can plead, they gag you again. You're about to put up a fight when the guy slides the knife sideways beneath your bra. The blade's coolness decorates your flesh with bumps as fear wrings your throat shut. He flips the knife with the sharp edge cutting against the cloth; still, the blunt side pricks into your skin.
He slowly moves the knife, pushing upwards. "It's probably hard to breathe, right? Let us help you.."
You scream, cry, and wail simultaneously. Not just because your bra is about to be cut off, but also because the other guys are unbuttoning your shorts and pulling them down. One of them is also taking pictures, you hope someone will spot the flashes.
Another guy harshly grabs your face when you start getting louder than normally muffled. "Shut—!" he cut himself off as he looks at something behind his pals. "PUTANGINA!"
A sort of banging sound echoes around the woods. It's repetitive with a few cracks, grunts, and cries here and there. Your should-be-rapists shuffle up and run to the same direction, yelling as though they're charging into war. You quickly roll on your side and sit up to find someone fighting against five guys.
You now realize that your should-be-rapists were eight guys when you notice three of them are already on the floor. And despite the dimness shrouding the woods, you begin to recognize your cap-wearing savior.
"Kurt?" you breathe out, shocked and confused.
But he doesn't hear you with the gag. That is until the guy who straddled you is slowly approaching Court from behind. You spot the switchblade he's holding and scream with all your might.
"LOOK OUT!"
Despite your muffled voice, Court somewhat understands you. He whirls around in the blink of an eye, ramming an elbow on the guy's temple. The switchblade drops with its unconscious owner.
Immediately, someone else picks it up. You're about to shout at Court again when you realize the guy with the knife is charging at you.
You don't even have to ask why, because whatever his intentions are, as long as he's coming at you with a knife, it can't be good. Scrambling up to your feet, you curse when the shorts at your ankles nearly made you fall; your bounds aren't helping either.
In such a state of panic, and insufficient lighting, you miscalculate the thick root for soil. You trip, face-planting into the ground, but you don't let that stop you and try to get back up.
"Come here!" the guy chasing you clutches at your ankle and reels you to him.
You'll probably feel the scrapes later, because your fight response brawls against the intense fear flooding throughout your body. "Let go!" you scream, kicking at him successfully on his shoulder and stomach.
"Tangina, tumigil ka nga!" he yells and grabs both your ankles, pulling you closer.
You're about to boot his face this time, but he smacks yours first, stunning you. He rises, roughly hauling you up, but someone gets in between you two. The guy gasps when a fist heavily jabs into his chest and throat; he's instantly knocked out when the same fist strikes his temple.
Still in a daze, you think the world is falling away. Trees dancing into a swirl with streams of light. But in actuality, you're just falling down.
You're on the ground, you think as your perspective steadies itself.
Someone calls your name, you think it's the Kapre on the trees— maybe your perspective isn't right just yet.
You hear your name again and a face appears. You recognize him.
"Kurt?"
"Hey," he breathes out, relieved.
You fight back a wince when your chest tightens. "W-Why.." you stammer, "How are you here?"
"I'll tell you later. First," he pauses, scanning you from head to toe, "are you okay? Where does it hurt?"
Your head is buzzing. The last several minutes replays in it as a myriad of emotions washes over you. Terror, relief, panic, concern, happiness, gratefulness, anxiety, sadness, shame—
It's overwhelming.
And because of it, you're starting to think you're hallucinating. Maybe the one holding you isn't your friend.
"Kurt," you say, shakily.
"Yes?" he replies, steadily.
The strong arm wrapped around you and the rough yet gentle hand holding you conveys everything else.
It's him.
It's Court.
He's here.
He saved you.
You have an abundance of questions. However, you want to address first why your face is somewhat damped and stinging. You think you have a gash and you're heavily bleeding, that is until you taste salt. Warm, liquid salt.
Oh.. you're crying.
You try to stop, but that only makes you cry harder. Like all the emotions pouring out your eyes, your body melts against Court's. But unlike your cascading tears, you're held firmly by him.
"Hey, what is it?" he asks, worriedly calling your name. "Where does it hurt?"
You manage to stifle your sobs for a second. "I'm so-sorry."
He scowls. "You're not the one who should be apologizing."
"N-No.. I'm sorry fo-for.." you gasp in between sobs,"for crying."
Court is astonished.
You continue. "I-I-I'm so-sorry you had to sav-save me.."
His hold on you tightens. "I'll always save you, (Y/N).. no matter what."
"Y-You don't always have to," you say, "I don't want you hurt."
Court holds the side of your face, gently pushing it up so he's looking into your teary eyes. "And I don't want you hurt, too." he declares, "So I'll save you. I'll protect you. I'll take care of you… Whether you like that or not."
There's an ache in your heart, yet it's somehow comforting rather than agonizing.
"And I'll beat the shit out of anyone who makes you cry."
You hide your face on his shoulder, but it doesn't stop you from laughing and sniffling at the same time.
The two of you stay there until your tears slow down to a halt. Then you finally allow yourself to wrap your arms around him. Because you didn't think you deserve it, you always thought you're unworthy to be saved. But then you don't know what else to do to express your gratitude at the moment.
So, you hug him with all your feeble might. Simultaneously trying not to let your feelings overpower you.
"Th-Thank you.." you sigh, "Thank you."
He returns the embrace, and for a second, you think he's kissing you on the head. "You're welcome." he whispers into your hair, "And thank you, too."
"For what?"
He stays silent for a moment.
"For.. you."
".. You want to thank me for me?"
"Yes..?"
You snicker. "That's stupid."
He breathes out a laugh. "Sorry."
"No worries. You got an unlimited savior coupon for the rest of my life."
"Well, then.. thank you."
"You're welcome."
first off~ I AM SO SORRY! VERY MUCH, I AM SORRY SORRY!!!!! AND PLEASE ACCEPT MY APOLOGIES WITH THREE NEW CHAPTERSSS
I will explain my abrupt hiatus in another blog after posting the chapters. Thank you so much for waiting, enjoying, and messaging me about this fic!
I hope y'all still enjoy it (*_ _)人
The portal to Chapter 16 will open momentarily starting now!
✨TAGLIST✨
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@vallyb
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@sortingharryshairclip
#the gray man#sierra six#courtland gentry#six#court gentry#reader insert#claire fitzroy#the gray man fanfiction#the gray man x reader#sierra six x reader#court gentry x reader#slow burn#fluff#comedy if you look closely#teenage girl needs a mama figure#the gray man has trust issues#father-figure trying hard#ryan gosling#chris evans#ana de armas#netflix#russo brothers
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Headcanons I love even tho they go against my main beliefs for these characters
Ace/Aro bakugou. Idk why but I just. Love it. So much. Like yes lil dude be free!!! Fuck nobody!!! You never needed bitches!!!
And especially the headcanons where he's like. Absolutely clueless about love. Like Mina will ask "so bakugou what's your type?" And he just looks confused n goes "?? You mean my blood type???"
Izuku and Katsuki being brothers. Like not literal brothers by blood but they have that brotherly bond. I actually do ship dekubaku but this headcanon is still very dear to me and I think in another universe it could work.
Like it's so funny imagining them fighting the way brothers do or being mean to each other but also having each other's backs and protecting/defending the other. I love that for them
Idk why but asexual todoroki just. Wow. I love him
I feel like he would still want a romantic relationship just without the sex part. Like he's totally cool with kissing or cuddling bc cmon there is no way in HELL this boy is not absolutely touch starved.
I feel like while Ace bakugou thinks sex is gross and is repulsed by it, ace todoroki is just indifferent to it. He doesn't rlly care or have any feelings towards it. Like ok bestie go smush your peepees together while I watch the entire Beverly Hills Chihuahua franchise
As much as I love my blorbos bakudeku together I have to admit the idea of izuku being the token straight friend in a class full of the ell gee bee tees is so fucking funny to me. Like he doesn't understand the lingo and is absolutely sweating his balls off trying not to say something offensive and it's just hilarious. He accidentally uses she/her instead of they/them once and almost commits seppuku ( a japanese style of suicide which includes disembowelment)
I'm sure he includes everyone's pronouns in their description in his notebook to make sure he remembers what to use
Nonbinary jirou just. Fits. Like idk what anyone has to say about that but look me in the eye and tell me that bitch doesn't put on a binder
They're an enby and also bisexual bc I am correct about everything.
Trans kiri just works.
If deku doesn't grow up to be tall as fuck then I will literally have a meltdown
does he not look like the tall lanky nice friend that can't even say fuck??? Look me in the eye and tell me that. Do it.
Eri grows up to be really tall
Like idk where this comes from but to me she's just. Tall. Girly doesn't get you things from the top shelf she IS the top shelf
Also I personally don't like the eri x kota ship, I think it's kinda weird to be wanting these whole ass 6 year Olds to date, idk but it makes me uncomfortable
I saw a post once that said that Ochaco would be an active memelord (back when that term wasn't cringe) and oh my god. No. This bitch wouldn't know anything.
She has a fucking flip phone I doubt she has access to motherfucking twitter
I think she'd be like Izuku where she's just absolutely clueless on the lingo and slang and feels left out when her friends reference memes she's never seen before
And even if they do take the time to send her one or two she wouldn't understand it
I also saw this in a different post but tsuyu listens to asmr
Tokoyami too
I love the black Mina headcanons but I'm filipino and so starved of representation so I'll just pretend she's half pinoy but grew up in japan so she doesn't really know much of the language (you'd be surprised how many of us don't speak our native language despite living here all our lives)
Himikos eyebags come from the many long nights she spent as a villain doing literally anything else but getting a good night's sleep. Like I know in the backstory episodes we see her with the eyebags as a child, but when I first watched the show I just assumed that that was the reason she had them, and I'll stick to that till I die
Mirio is autistic. Do not argue with me I am right.
#asexual bakugou#asexual tododoki#asexual#aroace#mha#my hero academia#mha headcanons#mha hcs#headcanons#bakugou#todoroki#midoriya#uraraka#tsuyu#tokoyami#mirio togata#toga himiko#jirou kyouka
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Hello ! Once you mentioned an au where airplane!sqh transmigrated into post-canon pidw as the og sqh and seduced mbj. I was wondering how you think he would manage it ? (Sorry for my english btw)
Hello! Thank you for taking the time to communicate with me in a language that isn't your native one!
Ooh, I vaguely remember that one. Oh, that was ages ago. Hm, that could go a bunch of different ways, depending on what story you wanted to write.
The first thing to come to mind is just straight-up telling Mobei-Jun that he's not the Original Shang Qinghua, but a different person. Either he reveals transmigration or he claims that he's a Shang Qinghua from another universe. And Mobei-Jun allowing the excuse out of boredom and vague curiosity at first, just to see what Shang Qinghua will do and maybe torment him a little before killing him again. But eventually coming to believe it.
Along those lines, another option is claiming amnesia. That would go very similarly, I think. I tend to headcanon Mobei-Jun as actually being quite sharp and extremely observant, when it comes to things he cares about. With Shang Qinghua, most of the time, Mobei-Jun is just without the context or emotional processing abilities to come to the correct conclusion with his observations.
So, I have difficulty imagining a universe where Mobei-Jun couldn't actually TELL that Original Shang Qinghua and Airplane Bro are different people. I don't think they were that similar at all. I imagine Original Shang Qinghua as a Jin Guangyao or a Su She type, whereas Airplane Bro is just... there's no one like Airplane Bro. He's a weirdo. He talks like no one else on this PLANET. I headcanon him as talking with his hands nonstop. I don't tend to write this angle as much as I possibly should, but he's a pervert, head over heels for Mobei-Jun, in his own clingy-with-commitment-issues way, and I headcanon Original SQH as looking down on Mobei-Jun. Airplane Bro is SO BAD at hiding that he's a transmigrator.
Based on these personal headcanons, the third option that comes to mind would probably go along similar lines. Instead of revealing transmigration or claiming amnesia, Airplane Bro would apologize profusely and beg for his life, and PIDW Mobei-Jun would allow it probably out of boredom and vague curiosity. Like, he and Luo Binghe have already conquered the world already. What else is he going to do rather than keep the resurrected traitor around as his own personal jester for a while? Why the fuck not?
And then I guess Airplane Bro would just do what he always does, which is be himself. Weird as hell. Strangely useful. Completely inexplicable in his manners and knowledge. Incredibly entertaining to watch fumble around, like some kind of cultivator physical comedian, or like watching a mongoose scream at a lion. I've always held the headcanon that Mobei-Jun thinks Airplane Bro is funny. Like, Airplane Bro's bitchy commentary on PIDW's Luo Binghe's latest harem drama almost makes putting up with it bearable.
He's also willing to risk his life to save Mobei-Jun, despite the ice demon showing him no respect at best, treating him like shit at worst. If I had to come up with a more serious plot for this fic than a dark romantic comedy, I think it would be kind of fun to have Airplane Bro go up against PIDW Luo Binghe for PIDW Mobei-Jun.
So PIDW Mobei-Jun has to have this horrible, "I'm in love with the impossible creature possessing an undead traitor and acting like my court jester," moment. And then he has to have some, "AND LUO BINGHE IS GOING TO KILL HIM," moment.
Mobei-Jun: "Wait, my jester has killed the Demon Emperor."
Mobei-Jun: "...How???"
Mobei-Jun: "Wait, does that make me Demon Emperor now???"
Mobei-Jun: "...I'm not keeping the harem."
Mobei-Jun: "...I'm keeping the jester."
Even odds whether or not Mobei-Jun actually takes the position as Demon Emperor or forces Shang Qinghua, who killed Luo Binghe, to become "Demon Emperor".
On one hand, I think it would be funny for Mobei-Jun to install himself as Shang Qinghua right-hand man and straight-up refuse to deal with this shit. Nope. He has built his entire career on being someone else's lackey and he's not cleaning up the harem problem. On the other hand, I think Airplane Bro deserves to fuck Demon Emperor PIDW Mobei-Jun if he wants. Very sexy.
#ask tossawary#fic ideas#pidw mobei jun#airplane meets pidw mobei jun au#shang qinghua#moshang#pidw luo binghe#the-frog-charming#tossawary svsss
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Shattered Memories - Ch. 1
Chapter summary: Nuyia helps Miles to recover from his wounds and Quaritch noticed he could use her for personal circumstances.
[1,412 words]
Pairing: Na'vi Quaritch x Na'vi Fem OC
Skxawng – an idiot; a moron
Prologue |
@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed
TW: blood mention, killing, manipulation, cursing
A/n: This story takes place after the ATWOW so it contains spoilers. I don't have any beta for that fic so I'm sorry if you find mistakes. English is not my native language (I wish).
She went to a small lake where she could catch some fish for dinner. Nuyia aimed her bow again that day and saw a movement in the water, then she get loose an arrow that hit an animal. She jumped into the water, kill the fish, thanking to Eywa and giving some of its energy to the Great Mother. She did the same with the three other fish.
Nuyia took them all into the house where she began to bone them. When the girl finished she wrapped the fillets in edible leaves and took them to the hearthstone where the wraps could be cooked. She heard a strange, injured man muttering to himself, but she paid him no attention. After all, she's thinking about him. What is he doing here? What happened to him and of course, who is he? She knows that he was an avatar with demon blood, a dreamwalker, but she didn't know why he was here, not only in her house, but also in her world. Nuyia wasn't happy about these thoughts. She knows she was supposed to help him and take care of him, nothing more. If he recovers, she'll kick his ass out of her home and her life. Nuyia didn't want to go wrong, make an aquaintance or anything like that. She couldn't. A few years ago, she got in trouble for her actions. That was the reason why she lived alone, far away from the nearest village of the Tipani clan.
She was stupid as fuck. An idiot, an now she didn't want to make another mistake. No more and no less than that.
Nuyia turned over the wraps and waited patiently. When the food was ready, she took it from the fire and put the wraps on a wooden plate. She went into the house, approaching the stranger, and gave him some food.
"Eat." She said, taking a wrap and began to eat.
"Don't tell me that's a damn fish..." He moaned and rolled his green-yellow eyes. Apparently, he didn't like the fish, but that wasn't Nuyi's problem. He has to eat.
"Shut up and eat the fuckin' fish! You’ll recover faster and I'll finally kick your demon ass out of there." She looked at him irritably. "Don't look at me like that, the food isn't poisoned as you can see." Nuyia pointed to herself and took another bite.
"I won't eat that." He replied, lying down on the sleeping mat. "You'd better gimme somethin' else."
She giggled.
"I don't think you'd have made it hunting on your own. Not with that wound." She pointed her chin to his muscular torso. "So... you have to eat what I give you. For how long? That depends on you." Nuyia shrugged her shoulders.
Finally he sat up, took a wrap and began to eat. In a short period of time he ate two fish.
"It was quite good."
"Skxawng. You really are a skxawng. When you're done, you should rest. You're hurt and exhausted."
He nodded. Nuyia stood up, not looking at him, and walked to the table where she'd been making drugs, ointments, and poisons. She heard every movement of a man, even if she didn't want to hear it. She was squeezing a plant to isolate an extract when he said:
"I wanna say somethin'..."
"What?"
"I... I wanna thank you. For saving ma life." Apparently he was unfamiliar with thanks.
Nuyia spat out.
"You don't need to thank me. It wasn't my wish, it was Eywa's. To be honest... I wanted to kill you." She didn't say she wanted to kill him from the beginning. Nuyia has a lot of poisons in her house that she could use. One of them instead of an ointment. If she had done that, the demon would be dead now. But she respected Eywa's will. Even if she didn't understand it.
He laughed painfully.
"You, Na’vi, really have a goddess complex."
She turned her head toward him and hissed.
"Show some respect, demon!"
"Easy there, sunshine." He replied, smiling at her. She could tell that her anger amused him. He provoked her with stupid comments and she let him do it like a not-so-smart child. "Are you gonna answer me who you are or not?"
"Let me think... I don't see why." She didn't pause from her work; her hands worked automatically.
"I still wanna know the name of my savior. And who I've been messing with. I'm Miles."
She didn't want to say her name. Why did Eywa want to save him so badly?
She sighed.
"Nuyia Te Isna Rrrta’awä'ite" She introduced herself, looking at him.
He was puzzled and confused.
"Like... Like what?" Miles tried to repeat her name but gave up. "Holy shit what a slatey name you have, woman."
"I don't have another one."
"Then how should I call you? Maybe 'sunshine'?”
She hissed at him, her ears twitching downward.
"I'm not your 'sunshine', dreamwalker. And I'll never be. My name is Nuyia. Nuy-yi-a, do you understand? Not 'sunshine', 'sweetie', or anything like that. I have a name and I'm not a pet of yours."
"Okey-dokey. You don't seem like a nice person, do you? Rude, vulgar, and aggressive as hell. You have a problem with yourself. The mental problem, y'know.
"Shut the fuck up!" Nuyia yawped; Miles laughed when he saw and heard that.
"I told ya. You've got a pro-" He stopped talking because she threw a small arrowhead at him. He twisted himself, moaning in pain. Miles looked at his wound and cursed. "Fuck..."
Blood seeped through the bandage Nuyia had wrapped around his torso.
"You're really such a moron." She shook her head, took a new bandage and ointment, squatted down next to Miles, and rendered aid.
"It wasn't my fault!" He groaned again. "You have a problem with aggression, not me."
She gave him a look that he shut up at the end.
Two days later
"Tell me one thing, Nuyia." Miles took slow steps toward her, watching how she was preparing her arrows. His wounds have been healed up quickly and without any complications.
"Great Mother Eywa, give me strength to that skxawng..." She mumbled. "What do you want from me?"
"You know English quite well, do you? Who taught you? Augustine?" He asked.
Nuyia looked at him.
"I don't know any Augustine. My mother taught me, why do you ask?"
"I had an idea. You could teach me the Na'vi way. You know - language, hunting, bonding with an animal. That phrase 'I see you'.
"No."
"No? But why? I'm a Na'vi, you're a Na'vi. We are both Na'vi."
She turned her head to him.
"No. You're not a Na'vi. And you'll never be. Why do you ask me that stupid question? Did you understand? Sky People cannot be one of The People. Never. You're too stupid. Behave like babies. You've never seen, heard, or felt. You don't even try to understand our life. People like you do only one thing - bring death, pain, and nothing more. You're killing us. For what?! What have we done to you? To Sky People?” She grabbed his arm where he has a tattoo, looking at his unusual eyes. Miles looked down at her, seeing hate in her golden irises. She was angry. Angry as hell. But he has a reason to learn the Na'vi way.
"It wasn't an offer, sweetheart."
"I am. Not. Your. Fucking. Sweetheart! I said NO!” She took her knife from the table. "What do you want to do with that knowledge? Answer me, Miles. You want to save someone, right? Or kill. Just give me an answer."
He sighed and swallowed then licked his bottom lip. Nice idea, Nuyia, he thought.
"Yes... I must save someone."
She blinked a couple of times.
"Save? I thought..."
"I know what you have thought. But no."
"Then... whom?"
He sighed again.
"My son."
Nuyia froze. She stood up and paced back and forth. A few minutes passed, then she stopped. She looked at him again, finally saying:
"I went over that. I'll help you, Miles. I'll teach you our way and how to be one of The People. And... I'll help you save your child."
You're just off the boat, sweetie, He thought but smiled at her. Such a naive woman. How cute.
"When do we start?”
"Morning. Of the dawn. But I warn you - I'm not an easy teacher. And not patient."
He smiled at her in response.
#avatar fanfic#avatar quaritch#recom quaritch#na'vi quaritch#oc na'vi#na'vi quaritch x na'vi oc#avatar the way of water#fem na'vi#quaritch#colonel miles quaritch#avatar 2
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