#i find it funny i can pinpoint exactly where this is coming from. like the specific beings i follow. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

enhaeven · 4 months

Text

— polaroid love | yang jungwon

pairing: jungwon x reader

genre: fluff, romance, high school!au

word count: 1.5k

summary: wherein a series of polaroid pictures may be helping you realize your feelings towards jungwon

warnings: none really, just two mild swear words XD

a/n: i pulled memories from years ago for this but yeah it's been a while lol happy 20th to my baby wonie 🥺, wishing you the best for this milestone of your life 💕

— masterlist & wips — faq & navigation

"take pictures of me"

a high pitched voice alerts you at once, and it's unfortunately too cute for you to ignore each time he asks you that same phrase when you have a polaroid camera in your hands.

at any chance he gets.

you don’t mind it now, already getting used to the times when Jungwon would just come up to you for basically anything. in the past, you used to question why he acts like this towards you when he doesn’t to others. you’ve grown fond of him, his habits rather but that doesn’t mean that you don’t whisk him away each time he’s near you, be it during lunch or after school clubs.

he’s not hard to love really, with the way he cares for someone and how thoughtful he is in everything that he does, it’s no wonder that anyone would immediately fall in love with him easily.

not you, or yet you think. you’re not really sure at this point though your heart does this weird thing whenever he says your name these days. what’s strange is that you’ve known this as a sign since you’ve fallen in love before but you couldn’t figure out why you’ve been resisting it.

it’s definitely a you problem, not his but you don’t know what to do.

lunch is the only time where you can do this. developing the pictures from your polaroid which mostly consist of Jungwon posing cutely in each of them. honestly, you’ve been questioning why cause really could’ve deleted them but here you are instead, just because he’s been asking about it.

he was adamant about needing to have his own copies since he loves posting on socials.

and you, for whatever reason eventually complied, even choosing to do it now and here at school of all times.

looking at them one by one right now, you reminisce the times Jungwon made your heart race as you pick each one of the polaroid pictures. your heart races even more which freaks you out again even though you’re alone in this empty classroom so no one’s here to see you like this.

you’re dumb. really dumb for doing your best to not fall in love with him because it’s pointless. no one could blame you really with the amount of immature guys your age but Yang Jungwon’s different.

it’s funny how you’ve only realized it now, though you can’t exactly pinpoint when it started since you may have been feeling something for him without realizing it. this is not even complicated unlike your previous ones and you’re surprisingly loving the vibe of it, the feeling of falling in love.

you must’ve been staring at them intently that you didn’t realize someone was entering the room and sneaking up on you.

“do you finally love me?” the very familiar voice asks behind you and you let out a surprise shriek, getting up from the chair to give some distance from him.

“what the hell!” you’re not really annoyed but more so mortified that he, out of all people caught you at this kind of vulnerable moment.

“answer the question y/n~” he starts as he leans a bit, tilting his head with a playful smile which you find very adorable.

and now you’re having a hard time suppressing the urge to smile back, hoping your face is not obvious but you already couldn’t look Jungwon in the eye.

"uh, what makes you say that?" you ask, trying to subdue your nerves by talking as calmly as you can as you return your gaze to him, to those very beautiful eyes of his.

eyes that caught yours in the first place.

"you have that look in your eyes..." he tells you with a teasing lilt in his voice, eyes shifting to his polaroid pictures laying on the desk.

what look dammit. is he really gonna make you confess right now—

"it's okay to admit it y/n…” he adds before looking back at you, eyes searching for something, probably a confirmation so you shoot him a glare in return. it’s a facade really to hide your embarrassment but it washed away quickly when you heard him say "i love you back anyways" quietly.

you were so stunned at his sudden declaration that you didn’t even realize he ran away before you could confront him about it.

so silly, you chuckle at his antics.

you’re debating if you should follow him or not but before you can decide, the bell rang so you had to hurry out to not miss the next period.

after your last class of the day, you immediately ditch your friends to look for Jungwon. they didn’t mind, not even asking you why though they probably have an inkling already after seeing you being restless at class earlier.

you have to catch Jungwon before he goes home, cause you might not be able to do this after today. fortunately, to your relief he’s still here, sitting by the benches outside with two of his close friends.

approaching their table, you dropped his polaroid pictures without a word which surprised everyone at the table, but not much for Jungwon.

he never thought you’d approach him first because it’s always been the other way around but he should’ve seen it coming when he ran away from you earlier. he wonders why you’re here other than the pictures, it couldn’t be just that, right?

“oh let’s look at these” his younger friend Riki suddenly picks one of the photos, looking at them with an amused smile.

for the first time, Jungwon feels shy because those pictures are specifically for you. he posed cutely in them for the sole purpose of wooing you but Riki’s like a younger brother to him since he only has an older sister so he doesn’t really mind. he met the latter from the dance club, easily befriending him when they both got closer due to being chosen to represent their school in the local dance competition against other schools.

“you look cute in them wonie!” his other friend, Sunoo adds, examining the rest of the pictures with adoration. he’s from a year above you both while Riki’s from a year below. but because Jungwon’s done summer school for some courses that made him pretty much more advanced than his peers, he’s sharing a few classes with Sunoo this school year.

“jungwon, can i talk to you for a minute?”

it’s already embarrassing to approach them this way when he’s clearly in some serious talks with his friends but you had no choice. it’s now or never.

“sure!” he turns to his friends excitedly, about to say goodbye but Sunoo smiles brightly at you both, returning the pictures on the table before grabbing the complaining Riki with him as they both leave to let you guys talk.

you smile gratefully in return, waving at them as they leave. you wouldn’t want those two to witness whatever more embarrassing things you might say to their friend. those two are already known in your school with Sunoo having quite a lot of friends and Riki’s status due to his dance achievements but you’ve never really talked to them before.

facing Jungwon now, you watch the challenging look in his eyes. but you didn’t miss the knowing smile, hoping it’s not because he already knew what all this is going to be.

��can you be my valentine?” you say as fast as you can to fight your increasing heartbeat. the nerves did go away when his smile turned into shock.

your question did surprise Jungwon a lot. he thought that you were here to talk about his quick confession earlier but he didn’t think that you’d ask him this.

he was actually planning a grandiose proposal to ask you even knowing that you could reject him.

but somehow Jungwon’s assured that you won’t. he’s indeed been annoying and clinging to you since the beginning of last year to get your attention but you’ve been softening to him lately so he’s confident and he was right.

“can you be mine too?”

“i asked first”

“well, i was going to ask you” he countered. “that’s why i was talking to Sunoo-hyung and Riki” he added.

“oh” you pause, nodding in understanding as a genuine smile appears on your face but your eyes hold that mischievous glint that Jungwon immediately recognized.

“but now you ruined it” he continues, now sulking a bit with his lips jutting out which made you laugh a little.

"how could i ruin it when it's for me?" you deadpan, your tone and smile teasing him further, causing his face to slowly become red.

"you asked me first and i said yes first so mine's more valid than yours," he says indignantly, huffing as he looks away from you which you find cute.

“okay wonie, let’s see how grand this surprise of yours is” you relent, stepping closer to him before planting a quick peck on his cheeks, making Jungwon’s eyes widen.

the boy’s totally flustered, which erupts another hearty giggle from you. he never thought you’d call him that let alone kiss him so he’s having a mix of delight and content of you reciprocating his feelings.

“i love you won” you add softly, looking sincerely into his eyes before walking away, leaving him still speechless at where he’s standing.

maybe it’s too early to tell him that but with how long you’ve been repressing this feeling, you’re pretty sure this time that it's certainly more than just a crush.

e/n: idk how i wrote this really cuz this is so out of my comfort zone since it's the first time that i've written an only fluff fic so i hope it's okay 😅. btw i based OC's inner turmoil on pola XD

235 notes · View notes

matthewkniesys · 11 months

Text

where do we go now? - jamie drysdale

summary:

a/n: so firstly thank you @huggybearhughesy for your help!! this is based on the lyrics of gracie abrams song "where do we go now?". the lyrics are in bold. this isn't my favourite thing but i'm trying to push through a writers block so hopefully you guys like it :)

pairing: jamie drysdale x fem!reader

good riddance fic series

warnings: swearing and angst and i think thats it but lmk if you find anything else

You and Jamie go way back. Way, way back to when you were both in your moms stomachs. Your parents and Jamie’s parents were like those friend groups you see on TV. You know, the ones where both couples meet at college and then become an inseparable friend group and then move to the same city together and then raise their kids together.

And from the day you were born (3 months, 2 weeks, and 5 days after Jamie as he always reminds you), the two of you were inseparable. If you were at the pool Jamie was probably too. If Jamie was playing tag at recess you probably were too. If Jamie had a hockey tournament chances were you were going to be there, at every game. And then as you grew older, if you were at a party Jamie was probably too. People knew that if they were looking for one of the two of you, all they had to do is ask the other one. That was the kind of bond you shared with your best friend.

Until the string that ties you two together started fraying. And then the string snapped all together.

24th Street

Where you held me, grabbed my arm

What a mental fire alarm

'Cause a lot of that felt wrong

After high school, you moved to Anaheim with Jamie. You didn’t think anything of it. At that point in your life all you knew was that you and Jamie weren’t going to break up. You would follow wherever he goes. It’s funny how you can be so sure of something and then all of a sudden you just aren’t anymore. It starts to feel wrong.

You two bought a small apartment on 24th street and for the first year it felt perfect. It was small and cozy and all you two really needed but at some point during the second year everything changed.

You can’t exactly pinpoint the moment you started realizing this wasn’t it for you. That Jamie wasn’t gonna work out. That this wasn’t your forever. It probably wasn’t even one singular moment. It was lots of little ones all together that came crashing down.

What you can pinpoint is the moment you realized you had to go. That you would suffocate if you stayed in this relationship any longer.

You came home after a horrible day at University and Jamie was there waiting. Like always. He was perfect like that. He never did anything wrong and he could always pick up on the queues that you weren’t having a great day. That used to feel like everything you needed but not anymore. Now it just felt predictable and boring. It felt like there was no passion left. No fire burning between the both of you.

“Hi babe. Bad day?” Jamie asks, after you let out a long sigh dumping all your stuff on the ground.

You make a little noise of acknowledgement, not even having the energy to talk to Jamie and that’s the part where it starts creeping up on you. The fact you don’t even want to talk to the person who supposedly means the most to you. The person who should be the love of your life.

The moment it slams into you though is when he comes up to you and wraps you in his arms. It should be comforting after all these years but in reality it feels like you’re drowning. It triggers something in your brain. You’re overwhelmed with the need to escape. Since when did being in Jamie’s arms, the arms of your boyfriend but more than anything your best friend start to feel so wrong?

Like I miss you

But when I kissed you back, I lied

You don't know how hard I tried

Had to fake the longest time

After that day you tried so hard to stay. You ignored that little voice telling you to get out and run as fast as you can. But you could only take so much. You had love for Jamie still. That much was true but you missed it when you felt so utterly consumed by him. When you constantly wanted to be around him. You missed that part of your relationship with him.

Every hug, every kiss, every word felt wrong. Felt fake.

You always hugged him and kissed him back. You tried to salvage what was there with the two of you. You pretended to yourself that you thought you could fix it, that maybe if you faked long enough it would become real but you always knew you couldn’t. You were lying to yourself. There had never been an ending that ended with Jamie. It wasn’t in the cards with you.

Where do we go now?

One January night you were laying in bed, unable to fall asleep. Next to you your boyfriend was sleeping soundly, completely unaware that anything was wrong. You toss and turn and avoid thinking about the fact that you shouldn’t be here and that Jamie deserves to know that you don’t love him like that anymore. He deserves the world, you just won’t be the one to give it to him.

Slowly you feel Jamie stirring on the other side of the bed. He gets up and looks over at you, groggily.

He yawns and says, “Hey babe, what are you doing up?”

You look into your boyfriend's pretty eyes and in that moment you know you can’t do it anymore. There isn’t anywhere for you two to go. What you have or had is over now and you need to end it.

Tears well in your eyes and you take a deep breath, knowing that in the next moment you were going to break the heart of the boy you used to love most.

“Jamie… I can’t do this anymore. It isn’t fair to you because you did nothing wrong but to stay wouldn’t be fair to me either. I have to leave. This doesn’t feel right anymore. There isn’t anywhere for this relationship to go that wouldn’t end in heartache. I love you, Jamie and I will forever but I have to do what is right for me.”

Jamie doesn’t say anything at first, just lets the tears fall. After a moment he says, “I could feel you pulling away but I wanted to ignore it but I guess I can’t anymore. I don’t wanna let you go. And I know that’s not fair but I love you. There won’t be anyone but you.”

“Yes there will be, Jamie. There will be someone because we weren't meant for each other. There is nowhere for us to go.”

I know I changed overnight

So I can't blame you for fightin'

And I'd be losin' my mind

If you lived in your writin’

The days that follow are hard. You have to keep living in the apartment until you find other living conditions and Jamie is convinced he can find a way to make work. He just can’t see that the best of your relationship was behind and that’s where you had to leave it. Nothing good would come from trying to salvage this.

“Why are you just giving up on us?” Jamie says one day out of the blue while you two eat summer in silence.

“I am giving up because after spending so long trying to stay, I have to give up for the both of us. And I know to you it seems like I just flipped a switch and overnight decided this wasn’t good anymore but I’ve been thinking about us for a while.” You pause, “Honestly, Jamie I’m surprised you're not the one frustrated with me because lately I've been so caught up in my school work I barely even have time to spend with you. Isn’t that driving you crazy?”

“No, it’s not because I just need your presence. That’s enough for me. And I understand why you’re so busy. It’s not like you’re purposely avoiding me.”

“The last few months though, I have been avoiding you.”

'Cause now I'm half of myself here without you

You're the best in my life and I lost you

And we had no control when it fell through

It was one-sided, hate how I hurt you

The next month is a blur. Between finding your own place and being busier than ever with school, you don’t have tons of time to think about Jamie but when you do there’s a sinking feeling in your gut.

You don’t regret ending it but you miss the friendship, the special bond that had been between you two since you were kids. You haven’t been apart from him for this long ever and it feels like a part of you is missing.

Jamie has always been the best in your life. The amazing boy that every girl wishes was theirs but he had always been fully yours. Until now when you set him free.

You wish you hadn’t had to hurt him. He didn’t deserve it but you didn’t deserve to be trapped either. He had no control over the situation. He couldn’t have prevented what happened. It was one sided and it sucks but it's the truth.

If I could, I'd have changed every feelin'

Reservations were up to the ceilin'

Guess the space was the thing that I needed

But I miss you

“Hey y/n. Uh it’s Jamie. Sorry to bother you by calling. I just need to know one thing. And then I can move on. I can pretend I don’t feel like I’m drowning. Did you wish it could’ve been different? If you could've, would you have changed your feelings?”

After a shaky breath from Jamie, silence fills the air. You’ve listened to this voice message he sent you at least twenty times at this point. You have memorized it but can’t stop replaying it.

The simple answer is yes. Yes, you would’ve done anything in your power to still love Jamie but it doesn’t matter because you couldn’t. It isn’t how the world works.

You tell exactly that to Jamie over the phone the next day and he says nothing. He listens and then hangs up, leaving you to hope he’ll be okay.

Being apart from him has shown you, you made the right decision but that doesn’t make it hurt less. You still miss him. He was, after all, your best friend since the beginning and you no longer have each other. That’s…a lot to take in.

Where do we go now?

In the last month Jamie has asked himself over and over and over again what he could’ve done to make you stay. He comes up empty every time because he did everything right. Just wasn’t enough he guesses.

He doesn’t know where to go anymore because before it was always to you. You were his light in the dark. He used to follow that brightness but now that light has run out of power and he’s left to stumble through the darkness alone.

He will be okay, he just has to figure where to go now. Which way it is to escape the black and reemerge in the light.

good riddance fic series

thanks for reading🫶requests are always open for fics, blurbs, ig edits and just thoughts!!

taglist: @woodruff-edwards @nicohischierz @makarhughes @cobrakaisb @huggy-hischier94 @boldysswld@cole-mcward48@kashee-h@kjohnson-91 @jackhues @corneliaskates @imma-mirrorball @hvghes @emptyflowerpots @h0e4fictionalme-n @ivy-34 @jayisamirrorball @diary-of-jj @nicojackl0v3r

join my taglist

#claire's good riddance fic series #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #x reader #claire tries writing <3

100 notes · View notes

twisted-gremlin · 25 days

Text

Yuu leaves and so do the third years

Trey

- he misses everyone.

- during his course, whenever he bakes, he bakes for an unburthfay party or small treats for Yuu... then he remembers, and shares with his Co workers

- he does good to pretend that he is fine, but he does miss the family he has made for himself, and the one at home

Cater

- he overblots.

- he really does, he can't figure out who he is, he has been isolated from people he cares about. He just can't take it

- so, while doubbleing mote and more, trying to get something done, it happens.

Leona

- Leona, dosent show affection traditionally, he shows it like a cat would and just say, we are doing this or you're doing this.

- he kinda misses haveing yuu as a pellow

- but he made sure to he detached, after all, this day was going to come eventually, why get attached to people when they are going to leave or betray you?

Vil

- he shows how much school has taught him by doing differnt things and takeing differnt roles

- he maybe even write a movie about the great seven and how some other worldly stranger took time to care and help them, giveing a fresh new perspective

- maybe not, it's a script in the works afterall

Rook

- he gravely does miss you and being able to see whatever little habits you have. He can allways go to find Vil or Neige, but... you're not in this world, and it is going to take alot to travel back and forth

- I think he would help Idia and Ortho to be able to travel and pinpoint where exactly you are. Afterall, he does have some things of yours for you

Idia

- he is most definately makeing a way to be able to game with you again. Haveibg someone irl besides ortho is nice

- he is glad that he can play games with Mucle Red who did find a internet Cafe witch he goes to to play games with Idia

Malleus

- he is honestly, the most lonely he has ever felt

- after everything he has done to try to stop from it happening... he is alone...

- everyone fears him and will leave him... right... none else would be like that kind human that just spoke to him

- but, there are humans that don't treat him any differnt than others, and show him some kindness, he just needs to be willing to find them

Lilia

- Lilia visits an internet Cafe to play with Gloomurai, witch he learned was actually Idia, what a funny coincidence

- he makes sure to send things of his travels back to the palace to share with Malleus, Sebek, and Silver, so that they don't miss him too much, he dosent want to worry them or anything

- he is ready for his days of peace and magiclessness, the time he spent with yuu, however much it may be, was good to help him learn how to do things on his own, to not burden or be burdend by anyone

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst hcs #twst vil #vil schoenheit

31 notes · View notes

sapphire-weapon · 11 months

Note

You said that part of the fun of old fandom was making backstories for the characters. did you have one for Leon? what was it?

oh boy. this feels so... self-indulgent and cringey now in modern-day fandom, after having dedicated so much time to arguing what is or isn't canon and having to explain multiple times, at great lengths, that the mafia backstory is not canon and why it's not. my brain is just like "shut up and just be glad that people are starting to listen to you at all."

I've mentioned a few of them here and there sporadically over the past few months, so some of these are going to sound very familiar to people who have been following me for a while, but

this is basically the backstory I've come up with for Leon and have been using for mmmm around 20 years, give or take (though I tweaked some slight things to account for Remake Leon, which I'll also note):

● grew up in a suburb around the Hartford, CT area

● only child

● very religious/uptight Catholic mom, dad was basically Mike Cosgrove from Freakazoid

● like seriously, the personalities of his parents couldn't be more different, to the point where it almost doesn't make sense to anyone on the outside looking in how they ended up together at all. but his mom really loves how stable and grounded her husband is and appreciates his really awful sense of humor, and dad fell in love with his wife's cooking and the way she actually laughs at his jokes and the fact that she really believes in something greater than herself -- because he doesn't, and he wishes he did. they also share a taste in music, surprisingly.

● "Scott" is a family name, but Leon's dad was already "the third" and he was like "you really wanna put this kid through being 'the fourth'? that's stupid. just make it his middle name." Leon has never told a single person in his adult life this, but his parents and his very early childhood friends (up until about middle school) actually called him "Scottie" -- because "Scott" was his dad. (yes this headcanon was born directly from how funny I find the whole "Mr. Scott Kennedy" shit in OG RE4 and I'm not sorry) mom's name is Carol.

● mom was a middle school geography teacher (and CCD teacher). dad was a cop (he was bASICALLY COSGROVE)

● was always closer with his dad than his mom, despite the fact that his mom very clearly and very desperately wanted him to be a mama's boy. it wouldn't be quite correct to say that his mom was emotionally abusive, but she definitely didn't Get Him and very rarely actually listened to what he had to say -- she had a pre-constructed image in her head of the kind of person she wanted him to be, and anything that didn't fit that image was either questioned or ignored outright. (NOTE FOR REMAKE-VERSE LEON: this was even worse for Remake Leon, who has a lot more self-awareness than his OG counterpart and started to suspect that he may not be fully straight pretty early in life, even if his conservative upbringing didn't give him the language to express what, exactly, he was feeling. he had a crush on a boy once, vaguely mentioned it in a very roundabout way to his mom, and then spent the next like 10 years convinced he was going to hell. see here for a more in-depth explanation of how I view Leon's sexuality.) dad gave far less of a shit about who his kid was, so long as he wasn't doing dumb shit to get himself in trouble or arrested or something. as a result, Leon's really stupid sense of humor came from his dad, because they did spend a decent amount of time together. the two of them + Leon's uncle (dad's brother), who was maybe a little bit off his rocker, always went hunting once a year.

● was never super religious like his mom is, but still definitely believed. didn't pray regularly -- but prayed enough. he can pinpoint the exact moment that he lost his faith, though: when, while in Raccoon City, he first considered suicide -- and he realized that he was looking not to God for salvation, but to his gun. even as an adult, he won't outwardly classify himself as an atheist, but his general feelings towards God and faith are: "if God is up there, He's not listening anymore."

● wasn't ever super popular in school, but was never an outcast loser nerd, either. he was just kind of... there. he had his own little circle of skater kid/grungecore and metalhead friends, and they just kind of did their own thing.

● didn't actually start to get hot until senior year of high school and kind of thought that people were taking the piss when they started looking at him differently after he'd been so completely ignored as a dating/sexual prospect for so long. plus he had a girlfriend by then, and they'd been together for a while, so he didn't really think too hard about how other people were looking at him, anyway.

● he and his long-term high school girlfriend broke up before they both went off to college, mutually, just because they were going to different schools. (NOTE FOR REMAKE-VERSE LEON: OG Leon lost his virginity to that girlfriend at age 16; Remake Leon didn't. the Remake version of his girlfriend was too prudish to go all the way, but third base was a familiar friend.) this was to the great relief of the girlfriend's dad, who fucking hated Leon's guts and frequently told him that he would never marry his daughter (and once chased him out of the house with a shotgun, but that's a different story).

● played lacrosse in high school. didn't love it, mostly did it to put on college applications. actually wanted to play football, but his mom was adamant about not allowing him to (AND SHE WAS SUPER RIGHT HOLY SHIT DON'T LET YOUR KIDS PLAY AMERICAN FOOTBALL).

● dabbled in some arts stuff here and there in high school and college, but never in a serious way and never for any great length of time. he was more of a math nerd than anything else. but he spent like, half of a school year involved with the lit mag and, despite being a not terrible poet and short story author due to having an inherently romantic nature, dropped it pretty fast out of disinterest. tried being involved with the school paper, dropped that within a year due to disinterest. thought about picking up the guitar because some of his friends were musicians, but never committed to it. the only thing that ever stuck was an interest in film; he spent a decent amount of time in the A/V club and really enjoyed the editing process. probably would've majored in it in college if not for his far greater interest in criminal justice, so he just kept doing it on the side for fun. took some electives for it in college, at the very least, and worked on some student films. mostly horror films, which is ironic to him in hindsight.

● did not go into criminal justice because of his dad; it's just a coincidence that he ended up being interested in the same field that his dad worked. Leon has always had a problem with bullies and was that guy in high school who inserted himself into situations that didn't involve him, just to stand up for someone else. got in only a handful of fist fights as a result of this, and the extent of the scolding from his dad was "knock it off. quit screwin around. you screw around too much." in the most non-committal, "don't actually stop though" tone possible, followed by taking him to get burgers. his mom lost her mind any time he got sent home from school for fighting, though -- and the one time he actually ended up suspended was Literal Hell for that full week. but, either way -- for him, growing up with a very positive opinion of law enforcement to begin with, criminal justice seemed like a natural fit.

● beyond the few times he got in trouble for fighting (in fights he never started and always won), the worst trouble he ever got into was that time his mom found out that he and his friends snuck beer into a Green Day concert in 1994. that was also the first time she learned that her 17-year-old son was already drinking. he got grounded until graduation.

● overall was just a pretty good kid, though. constantly on honor roll. graduated college with a 3.7 GPA.

● mostly behaved in college, too, but he definitely went out and partied when he didn't have anything school-related to worry about. OG Leon partied way more frequently and way harder than Remake Leon did, though. OG Leon dragged his dick all over campus. Remake Leon had maybe a handful of drunken hookups (that still never actually got him laid) and spent most parties being that guy who was taking care of his much drunker friends. catch Remake Leon standing over one of his friends who has their face planted in the sand at a beach party like "hey man. you good? we can't leave yet. I gotta finish this beer." Remake Leon also made an excellent wingman.

● after getting hired at the RPD but before actually able to move out there (in late August, roughly), he did go out to Raccoon City to try to land an apartment so that he'd be ready once he actually did move. he filmed most of that week-long trip in a sort of self-documentary style and edited it all together with the intention of giving it to his parents before he left, in case they started to miss him -- so that they could see where he was and who he'd likely be hanging around with and all that stuff, because he is a Good Boy. he ultimately never finished the very last part of it because of the phone call he got to stay away from the city a week prior to his move, and he soon forgot he'd ever made something like that at all. his mom found it a few months later while cleaning up his room, which she did frequently as a grief response "so that it'll be ready for him when he comes home."

● to date, Leon's family and friends from back home think he died in Raccoon City. the CIA kept a tight leash on where he went and who he spoke to for the first four years of his captivity -- he basically didn't get freedom to live his own life until after Operation Javier. by the time he had the ability to call or visit home, he felt like it was too late -- that it'd be crueler to show up out of the blue after being "dead" for so long -- especially considering that he couldn't stay in their lives. he'd basically just be showing up to say "hey not dead" and then have to disappear again. so he just sort of... let it go. though, of all of the terrible things he's done in the time since then, this is the one thing that weighs heaviest on his conscience -- the one thing that he feels guiltiest about most often. but he continues to stay away, because he has nothing kind to say about the life he's lived or the man he's become. even if he were to go home now, he's convinced that his parents would not recognize their son.

● he doesn't know this, but there is an upright grave marker for him in a cemetery in his hometown dated 1977-1998. buried there is an empty casket with only a framed photo of him. his parents still lay flowers there twice a year: once on his birthday and once on the anniversary of Raccoon City's destruction.

#resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 #leon kennedy #typing up some of this was kind of embarrassing and idk why #but thank u for the ask anon #my new D drive won't be coming in until wednesday so #i have nothing but time to answer long asks like this after work #pls keep sending them

41 notes · View notes

agonycrossbow · 3 months

Text

General Leon backstory headcanons

this feels so... self-indulgent and cringey now in modern-day fandom, after having dedicated so much time to arguing what is or isn't canon and having to explain multiple times, at great lengths, that the mafia backstory is not canon and why it's not. my brain is just like "shut up and just be glad that people are starting to listen to you at all."

but

● grew up in a suburb around the Hartford, CT area

● only child

● very religious/uptight Catholic mom, dad was basically Mike Cosgrove from Freakazoid

● mom was a middle school geography teacher (and CCD teacher). dad was a cop (he was bASICALLY COSGROVE)

● overall was just a pretty good kid, though. constantly on honor roll. graduated college with a 3.7 GPA.

#resident evil headcanons #leon headcanons

13 notes · View notes

elliepassmore · 2 months

Text

The Ornithologist's Field Guide to Love review

4/5 stars Recommended if you like: romantasy, romantic comedy, light academia, magic

Big thanks to Netgalley, Berkley Publishing, and the author for an ARC in exchange for an honest review!

My rating for this book sits somewhere between 4 and 4.5 stars, though it's hard for me to pinpoint exactly where. My rating is somewhat biased. I didn't see the publisher until after I'd requested the book and so didn't realize how heavily romance-oriented it was going to be (I thought it would be more like Emily Wilde's), and that's not really a genre I tend to read. That being said, once the book got going I began enjoying it, hence the rating still being relatively high.

It took me a while to get used to the narrative style of the book. For one, it's set in the Victorian Era and with that comes a lot of thinking about societal politeness and propriety, which doesn't interest me too much. Then there's quite a bit of emphasis on insta-lust and the feelings associated with that, albeit with a Victorian slant, though as mentioned I should've been more mindful of the drama. However, once things start getting on with the Birder of the Year competition, the pacing speeds up and I stopped noticing/being bothered by those two things. I'd say around the 10-15% mark.

The plot itself was interesting and actually contained more humorous moments than I was expecting. The ornithologists take the competition seriously, and it's clear Beth and Devon do as well, but there's quite a bit of tomfoolery occurring as each ornithologist tries to one up the other, and I found some of the situations to be quite funny. I also think that these moments really go to show how far ornithologists are willing to go in this world, which helps provide some context. There are also some behind-the-scenes machinations going on in the competition, and I did have a hard time trying to figure out the true motivation of the competition. There are really two different things going on, one of them funny and one of them more troublesome, that helped add some tension to the plot.

I like the concept of magical birds and the very extra people who study and trade in them. We have the chance to meet a bunch of different birds over the course of the book, ranging from deadly to pretty. Beth takes her job as an ornithologist seriously and is dedicated to studying and protecting birds from more unscrupulous forces. While he may seem like a scoundrel at first, Devon too is intensely interested in keeping birds safe. Conversely, it's made clear that a large swathe of the ornithologist community are less scrupulous and more interested in the fame and glory than in the birds themselves. It's no wonder the competition ends up being what it is.

Beth herself is the very definition of a Proper Victorian Lady. Beth can be quite shy, though she does her best to get along with people, usually with success (the scenes with the French fishermen might be some of my favorite in the book). Part of her shyness comes from being mocked as a child for being a 'weird know-it-all' who was, and is, obsessed with birds, though another part of it comes from her struggling to find the unspoken social rules others seem to follow (as I was reading I suspected she was autistic, and the author's note confirms that Beth is definitely ND, though Holton doesn't provide specifications). As a result, she's a bit of a people pleaser to start the book, though over the course of the competition she begins to stand up for herself and others more, and by the end is truly a force to be reckoned with.

Devon is both similar to Beth and her opposite. For one, he's much more devil-may-care and rakish, willing to be loud and gregarious when the need arises. However, this also masks someone who spent their later adolescent and early adult years feeling apart from others and lonely. In his own way, Devon can also be fairly shy and at times feels inadequate. That being said, it's clear he feels deeply and has a deep respect from the get-go for Beth. I think Devon's rakishness and sensitivity work well together.

The romance works well between the two main characters. Both of them have a deep love for the same academic subject and few people with whom they can let themselves relax and fully be themselves, both personally and academically. As academic prodigies they've had similar experiences in life and thus understand where each other is coming from and where their needs might be in the relationship. While I'd say the romance is definitely insta-love and insta-lust, Devon and Beth both have a wellspring of admiration and respect for one another, which I think is integral.

Overall, this was a surprisingly funny romantasy and I enjoyed the plot and characters. It isn't really a genre I read a lot, so it did take me some time to get used to the narrative style and the focus on romance vs. action + fantasy elements, but I did have a good time reading it.

#book #book review #books #fantasy #book recommendations #bookstagram #booklr #bookblr #bookaholic #bookish #the ornithologist's field guide to love #romantasy #fantasy books #light academia #victorian era #victorian england

2 notes · View notes

mjlovescm · 2 years

Text

23- The party

Completed, 27 chapters, “She’s an angel” Rodrick Heffley x black fem reader

It's not exactly like the movies, but it's close enough. The atmosphere was buzzing as loud as the music, various clouds of smoke filled the air and solo cups were everywhere.

You should have felt excited, I mean you were, but more than anything you were clueless. Turning around, you look for one of the boys. Planning to follow their lead for the night as the safest and smartest option. But Chris and Ben are nowhere to be seen. Instead, behind you was Rodrick.

It was a good thing, yes, in this situation, though it didn't really seem that way. At least not to you, Rodrick on the other hand was somewhat happy about it. It meant he wouldn't have to worry about where you were all night. And he could give you the kind of party experience he knew you were dying for.

“Wanna get a drink.” He says just loud enough for you to hear an almost blank expression on his face. Almost.

You don't say anything, still a bit upset from your argument earlier. If you could even call it that. Rodrick rolls his eyes and takes your hand into his. His hold is loose, almost like he didn't want to touch you but knew he had to.

The kitchen may have been clean, but the counters were a complete mess. Bottles you'd only seen inside your parent's canted china cabinet splay out like an alcohol all you can eat. Somehow, he finds two clean cups, scanning the bottles of liquor before settling on something that wouldn't destroy you. At least not completely. He pours some into both of the cups, not enough to casually sip on, so they must have been shots.

“Here.” He says, passing you the red solo cup before throwing his head back and swallowing the liquid in his.

“What, no chase?” You joke, reminding him of the first time you had shots, and how he gave you kisses as chase.

Although he doesn't seem amused, he gives you half a courtesy smile and pours himself another shot, a larger one this time. He's not drinking to get drunk, he's drinking for courage. The courage to start an argument about someone he may be wrong about, but to him the maybe was a very, very small chance. Either way tonight he was gonna confront you or confront him no matter the consequences.

“Drink up.” He says, pouring more alcohol into your cup before tapping the bottle against it. A hint of enthusiasm in his voice.

“I can't drink this without chase Rodrick, I'll probably gag and throw up.” You act overdramatic.

“Don't be a pussy, it's not that much, just swallow it. You're good at that.”

“I am not a pussy, and you are not funny.”

“You are a pussy.” He whispers with raised brows and a smile. “But if you want me to kiss you that bad, just ask next time.” He whispers again, but this time he brings himself closer. Hovering his lips beside your ear as he spoke before pulling away.

You don't say anything, you smile and quickly swallow, cringing at the taste and sighing at the burn before you're overcome with the familiar rush of Rodrick's lips. The two of you didn't kiss in public often or ever as far as you could remember. Thankfully you weren't the only ones, in fact the two of you were probably on the tamer side considering that it was just a kiss.

To your surprise, you actually started to have fun. Mingling and talking to people who you'd seen at school but were too shy to speak to. Across the room, Rodrick was doing the same. You give him an occasional lazy smile, none of which he notices or returns.

You sigh and continue your conversation, but Rodrick sits heavy in the back of your mind.

You thought about your friendship, your “argument” and how the boy who invited you had suddenly gone ghost afterwards. Maybe Rodrick was right … to some extent. It must have been the alcohol because suddenly a wave of emotion comes over you. It was a mix of guilt, sadness and probably something else you couldn’t pinpoint.

“Uh, I'm gonna go use the bathroom.”

You don’t wait for a response from the girl you were talking to and start moving through the crowded room. The closer you get to him, the clearer his conversation becomes.

“Trust me man, I've been there, your girlfriend sounds like a sweetheart, but you just need to tell her how you feel.” The drunk stranger advises him. “If she still wants to be friends with him, then maybe it’s time to move on.”

Rodrick didn’t say you were his girlfriend the guy just assumed, but Rodrick didn’t correct him, in fact he didn't really mind the mistake.

“I can’t just move on, she’s my best friend.”

“Why are you telling people that I'm your girlfriend!” You don’t yell, but you certainly are loud enough.

Your voice catches Rodrick off guard, and he quickly turns around.

“I didn’t tell him that, I told him we’re just friends.” He pauses, “With benefits.”

“So you told him we’re having sex.”

“Yeah… kinda.”

“Why is that all you ever think about?”

You knew it wasn’t true, but you were definitely not sober, and you just said the first thing that came to your mind. Rodrick wasn’t either, and he speaks before his mind can stop him.

“That’s funny coming from you.” His voice is low.

“What’s that supposed to mean.” You match his volume, conscious of those around you.

“It means if you wanted to fuck other people, you could have just told me.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, letting what he said settle into your mind. His words confuse you, a lump grows in your throat, and you struggle to speak.

“I don’t know what you're talking about”

You tell him desperately. So desperately that anyone could pick up on it and of course Rodrick did, but he disregards it.

“He only wants one thing from you y/n stop acting clueless”

At first, you were sure you misheard him. Sure, that Rodrick couldn’t have said that kind of thing to you. The lump in your throat grows at least twice in size. You’re so unsure what to say or how to react that you just freeze. And you and Rodrick just stare at each other.

“Y/n I-”

You walk away before you can hear what he has to say. Which honestly would have just been him scrambling and stuttering. You sprint out of the room and go to the nearest bathroom you could find. Turning the knob and sighing when the door didn’t open.

“Occupied.” A voice says behind the door.

You give them a shaky, “Okay.” and look for another room.

You find one upstairs with the door wide open. The door may have been open, but it wasn’t an empty room. Something shifted in your stomach when you saw him. The same boy who gave you his number in secret, took you to the movies and invited you to this stupid party just casually sitting there.

“Hey … You.” He pauses, “I've been looking for you all night, where’ve you been.”

You don’t give him a response, and he continues anyway.

“Actually, I was looking for you because I wanted to talk to you about something.” He stands and speaks carefully.

*oh god,* You thought, knowing exactly what was about to happen. *Rodrick was right*

“I feel like you sorta mixed up what we are.”

He takes a step closer, and the space between the two of you shrinks tremendously.

“We?” You choked out.

“I’m okay with you having a boyfriend, but don’t pretend like you’re trying to stay loyal.”

He takes another step as his harsher tone sets in.

“Playing hard to get as if you’re something special. I invited you here, so we could finally just fuck and get it over with, but I just don’t really think I want Rodrick's sloppy seconds anymore.”

He blows a breath of air through his nose and gives you a small smile.

“You look good though lots of people are ugly when they cry, so I guess you're one of the lucky ones.”

He leaves the room, passing someone in the doorway as he does.

*crying,* You think to yourself, only now seeing the mix of concealer and tears that stained your shirt.

God, you were crying and didn’t even realize it. You tried to swallow and collect yourself, but that lump still sat in your throat. It hurt and burned of alcohol and soda. You wiped your face with your hands, which was pointless because you only started crying more. At least you were conscious of it this time.

“We should leave.” A voice says behind you in the doorway.

Of course, it was Rodrick. Who followed you after calling you clueless. He’d been there almost the entire time, watching you be humiliated. You wanted to walk off and get home another way, but with you and tears and clearly not sober, there was no way he was gonna let that happen.

So you don’t fight with him or argue, you're too sad anyway. You just try to hold onto whatever dignity you have left and walk to the car with your head down in defeat.

Next chapter ;)

All chapters :)

#mjlovescm #black fem reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley #diary of a wimpy kid

39 notes · View notes

happilymaximumbouquet · 1 year

Text

That's funny you have characters inside of people I wonder if I live up to grandpa Michael Myers since I pray all the time and he's a movie killer would it be bad to say off I've killed once or twice I think of my god what a bad person then resurrect later but I think it means something like the girl was gonna die from my enemy maybe someone brains me and I don't get to live because mom freaks out I mean sometimes I feel nothing so when they say there in a better place you gotta know there away from me and on with my enemy as himself on with life can't control it their love for me couple killers like they kill each other when their mad now if I could only find the secret to life see I found out I have the same thoughts I use the same brain girl or boy so what's the difference if I'm hard and she's contracting what's so bad or even the problem Jackson cause sometimes we just need to feel and I can't wait til the day that I feel it with that special girl that I long to wrap my arms around whenever she needs me every other night but can only be there whenever I call Jordan the balls in my court so is the song so if I put it out right I'll get a response the one that I wait to hear like missed you or baby come home I'll miss you at Christmas wish the time was past and we were dying instead of living while we waited so long for this day after the gifts and all the green presents I'll get two nights or pull 50 for him wouldn't that be something a girl for me that only loves I and believes exactly what he believes but whose the big loser because he chose you know him instead of all the girls and the girl that God has waiting for him that nobody knows and never will the future beholds well let's see a generation is four days or is his life has been this short only 8 years old and he's rode his black tornado I might have to check into 13 and atonement he always told his mom he had to be 13 some say he's 91 planet earth Jesus would be George but the guy they say antichrist thinks he's God and has literally tried to hurt this George his whole life a crackhead black woman I've seen the streets too baby where does that take you and I think that was in my body poor thing now let's see let me pinpoint or is it a bunch of people and we're not adding right so I'll try to get some numbers ok all merry Christmas or should I say Mary christmas

0 notes

imaginationlandtrilogy · 2 years

Note

3, 4, and 5!!

Thank you! <3

I'm going to separate each one into fics and analyses, as my answer for each will be different!

3) Name a fanfic/story you are particularly proud of writing. Fic: I've been told I'm very good at writing angst, and I agree! I can pinpoint emotions easily and describe exactly what that feeling is, so it's come in handy for writing spooky/horror fanfiction... :} Anything I write of that genre, I'm usually proud of. Analysis: I'm proud of anything I write on Stephen Stotch, as his character is so strongly represented through little pieces of information throughout the series, so it makes me feel smarter to have pieced everything together like that! Although the organization was a little messy, I'm still proud of that analysis I wrote on Stephen and Linda's emotional connection to Butters. I see the two as very good friends and they're both aware that they don't have romantic or sexual attraction to each other, but they stay together just because... they need each other, really. They're both dependent on others in different ways, so I feel as if their personalities and struggles fit in a lock like that... so everything I write on those two I end up loving, even months after I write it (which doesn't happen often).

4) Where did you get your inspiration from? Fic: It usually comes through seeing the creativity of others. If I see a really good piece of fanart, then it might inspire me to write something, whether it be a little headcanon or a full fanfiction. This is a weird one here, but funky-looking and unsettling South Park merchandise also inspires me to write. It's so fascinating to me because with as long as it's been airing and as popular as it is, it creates some weird merchandise, official or bootleg. The creations of those always have stories stirring in my mind based off of them. Analysis: Writing analyses! I have an entire list on my notes app of things I want to write, and most, if not all, of those ideas come from me writing or researching an analysis. For example... my most recent addition on that list is "The Overarching Message of Generational Superiority in "#REHASH" and "#HappyHolograms" (with a focus on Kyle), which came from me analyzing those episodes in my ongoing Ike analysis, which came from me doing my Gerald analysis and realizing Ike is a much more interesting character than people know, which came from me fascinated by Gerald's behavior in "You're Not Yelping", which... finally, came from me deciding to rewatch season 19 last December to try to understand why it didn't appeal to me as much as the other seasons. The more analyses I write, the more inspiration I get to write, just because there's so much to be said about the show and the characters... Everything is connected. I like thinking about themes and deeper messages, and why characters behave as they do... so I'm constantly getting more ideas for analyses through research. Very cool!

5) Where do you find your motivation? Fic: Comments and feedback! The more comments and feedback I get on my writing, the more I'll write. I think this goes for a lot of writers, as it's always nice to see people enjoying the things you create... and it makes you want to create more for them and yourself. Analysis: In October, I was having so much trouble writing and just... this awful writer's block that lasted weeks through any type of writing I did, and it was so funny, because you know what got me out of this multi-week writer's block? I turned on a South Park episode on TV and Gerald spoke for two seconds. I counted. Two seconds. The entire episode. Suddenly, I was filled with so much motivation and I wasn't even writing about him. It was like I was some video game character and I was restored to full health 😭. I was wondering why this happened, and I came to a conclusion. You know when you see a character you like and you suddenly want to be surrounded in content of the character? It's this adrenaline rush of love and adoration, I think, and this goes for any character I feel strongly about. It's happened with Kyle, it's happened with Linda Stotch... It's like this desire to create from what you're feeling, and that's probably what gives me motivation. I don't know if other people feel this way, but this is the conclusion I came to based off of my own experiences.

#☆#ar #agr

0 notes

clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 years

Note

Eeek! I just had a one-shot idea for you from your recent scarred reader with Freddy, Moon, and Sun. What about a Michael Afton x reader fluff where Michael protects the reader from an animatronic but the reader ends up getting hurt and kind of plays off the injury. But the next day Michael sees a stiches/scar and feels guilty and the reader reassures it wasn't his fault? Sorry if this is too long..I really like your work! Have a good night/day :))

Aw thanks! It’s not long at all. Also this is gonna be a SL AU where Michael doesn’t get kidnapped after night 3

.........

“AH!”

You jumped a bit as Funtime Freddy’s faceplates popped open, revealing his intricate endoskeleton wiring underneath.

Michael couldn’t help but lightly chuckle. You were always so easily startled. “Don’t worry, love. They don’t bite.”

“Haha. Very funny, Mike.” Rolling your eyes, you just sat back and watched him remove the bear’s power module, listening to HandUnit’s instructions all the while.

Neither of you were comforted by its mention that this procedure was unsafe for other technicians, firing them if they didn’t succeed the first time to avoid paying worker’s comp for any “accidents” that may occur.

What a joke of a company.

Well, maybe with both of you here no accidents will happen. After hearing how hostile Funtime Freddy acted towards Michael in the breaker room, you wanted to be sure he wasn’t alone anymore. You’d be up all night worrying about his safety.

Good thing you were something of a technician yourself.

Before long, your boyfriend got the module he needed and sat back in his chair. “One down, one to go. I’ll let you take a crack at Bonbon. Think you can handle that?”

“Of course.” You smirked. “The module’s just beneath the bow....tie?”

But as you looked back at Funtime Freddy, you noticed his bunny companion was missing. You furrowed your eyebrows, flicking on the flashlight and shining it around the place, wondering where he could’ve gone.

“..damn it, HandUnit only said Freddy was out of power, but not both of them.” You realized.

“Why is everything here so difficult?” Michael groaned, standing up. “I’ll go look around for him. This place is cramped..he couldn’t have gone that far.” He checked around the room, hearing Bonbon’s giggling but unable to pinpoint where exactly it was coming from. It was like an echo, making you two feel more uneasy by the second.

HandUnit repeating the instructions didn’t help matters.

Finally, he managed to snag the mischievous bunny and deactivate him, taking his power module.

“Great job. You’ve acquired both power modules. This completes your tasks for the night. Please exit the building through Funtime Auditorium, and we’ll see you back here again tomorrow.”

Michael sighed in relief, rejoining your side as you packed up and headed out of the room, back through the auditorium.

You opted to scout ahead for Funtime Foxy, who was surely lurking somewhere in the darkness. At first he didn’t really want you to, but eventually gave in and handed you the flash beacon.

It seemed like a walk in the park. You activated it a few times and didn’t find the fox anywhere.

“Looks like we’re-”

All of the sudden, they jumped out from the shadows, grabbing your arm in a crushing vice grip as their faceplates opened with a screech.

“OW!! LET GO OF ME! MIKE!!” You screamed.

“Fuckin’ hell..GET AWAY FROM THEM!!” Michael charged forth and attacked them with a wrench, striking their hand. As soon as they let go of you, he took your hand and you both booked it out of there, forgetting about the beacon.

Luckily you made it to the elevator in one piece..for the most part.

You arm was absolutely killing you, but you didn’t want Michael to know you got hurt.

So when you returned to the safety of your shared apartment, you went to bed and he went to watch the next episode of his favorite soap opera. You were too exhausted to stay up with him.

It took you a while to fall asleep, though, since you kept seeing that damn fox’s glowing yellow eyes in the dark.

'This sucks..but it’ll be fine..my arm is fine.’

............

Your arm was, in fact, not fine.

Funtime Foxy’s attack was worse than you expected.

You woke up before Michael, feeling your arm throb with even greater pain now. Unfortunately it didn’t just go away overnight.

In the bathroom, you could see big bruises and some scratches from where the animatronic grabbed you. Fortunately they weren’t deep and you could still use your arm, though you knew your boyfriend was going to flip when he realized you got hurt. So you wrapped it in gauze and put your shirt back on, keeping the sleeves down.

Once you were finished, you came out to the kitchen to see Michael making breakfast.

Or at least attempting to as a pancake fell to the floor.

“Bloody hell--oh, good morning, love!” He saw you and smiled. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Could’ve been better, could’ve been worse.” You yawned, waving off his worries.

After cleaning up the mess, he put the dish towel over his shoulder and walked over to give you a kiss. You smiled into it and closed your eyes, momentarily forgetting about the pain in your arm.

Until it resurface as he accidentally pushed his hand against it. He heard your whimper and immediately broke the kiss, alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

“O-Oh, nothing..you just uh..bit my lip?” You made up a fib, but he didn’t buy it.

“..that took you an awfully long time to answer. I know for a fact I didn’t.” Then he looked down, seeing you instinctively hide your arm from him. “Is it your arm?”

“.....”

“[Y/n], please tell me..”

“...just don’t freak out, promise?”

Although hesitant, he nodded and watched as you rolled up your sleeve. His eyes widened in shock upon seeing the bandage, coming to a single conclusion. “You got hurt by Funtime Foxy..didn’t you?”

“It’s only a few bruises and scrapes. It’s not gonna be amputated. I’ll be fine.” Despite you reassurances, he could only stare down at your arm, frowning deeply.

“I should’ve been the one to scout ahead..i-it’s my fault..” His chest tightened with guilt. “I-It should’ve been me-”

“No, hun.” Cupping both of his cheeks, you raised his head up to look at you, seeing the sadness in his blue eyes. “This wasn’t your fault, okay? I chose to scout ahead. You understand? It was my choice..I took that risk and I’m dealing with the consequences. I’ll be okay.”

“I-I know, I know. It’s just..I’ve got this bad habit of blaming myself when things go wrong..e-especially with animatronics..”

“Well don’t blame yourself for this, okay? Neither of us knew Foxy was gonna do that.”

“....you don’t blame me at all?”

“Not one bit.” You brought him closer to kiss him this time, reassuring him you were being honest.

And he believed you.

#clanask #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's x reader #fnaf sl #michael afton #michael afton x reader #hurt/comfort #comfort #fluff

337 notes · View notes

idkxwriting · 3 years

Note

Could you please do a smutty fluffy oneshot where the reader is a witch and meets Elijah (around when he first appears on TVD, before Damon daggers him) and they're drawn to one another. And despite Damon not trusting him (he can be jealous if you wanna add that) the reader decides to invite Elijah into her home and get to know him. They bond, kiss, and do the sexy times. Also I think it would be cute if he said something about feeling alive with her for the first time in centuries.

“You did what!?” Damon stood in your doorway, his icy stare enough to make most people reconsider.

But you weren’t most people.

“I know what I’m doing, Damon,” you rolled your eyes and turned away from him only to find him in front of you once more.

Anger burned in his eyes, and you knew for a man with very little patience to begin with that you were pushing your luck. "Really? Because it sounds like to me you just invited Elijah Mikaelson for dinner."

You shrugged. "And a drink."

“You invited a vampire over for a drink?” His eyes narrowed. "You do hear yourself, right?" He snapped.

“Not that kind of drink," you were exasperated.

"I can't protect you from him," Damon growled.

"And I'm not asking you to," you countered. "I can protect myself." As you stepped around him once more, you felt the rage rolling off of him in waves. You knew Damon well, so you anticipated his next move, bringing your hand up and summoning your magic to drop him to his knees before he could attack.

Damon cried out, gripping his head in pain. You had never had an aneurysm personally, but you could only assume it was excruciating. You decided he had enough, releasing him. He panted, the pain subsiding as his body healed.

"See?" You smirked.

He glared at you, and you knew that had you been anyone else, you'd likely be dead - whether that was because of you were a witch or because Damon had a soft spot for you, you couldn’t decide. "I don't trust him."

You shrugged. "Well I do."

"Why!?"

"I can't explain it, Damon," you sighed. "There's something about him...I feel like I need to do this. Like I'm being drawn to him, and I need to figure out what that means."

Damon opened his mouth to argue when you cut him off.

"All I’m asking you to do is trust me."

He scoffed. "Maybe if you didn't make such colossally stupid decisions..."

You raised your brows at him. "I haven’t been on your case about you being drawn to Elena, have I?”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Exactly.”

He looked at you incredulously. "Elena isn't plotting our deaths..."

"Elena is alive because Elijah wants it that way. And he's saved your life what? Three times now?"

Damon rolled his eyes. "And what about when he decides he no longer needs Elena alive? Or me?"

You didn't have an answer for that - only a gut feeling. "We're missing something, Damon. I can't explain it, I just know I need to do this..."

He nodded, knowing you were stubborn and there was no changing your mind. He sighed heavily, walking over to a bookcase and pulling out a very large, very old book. The leather spine cracked as he opened it to reveal the pages had been hollowed out, and he took out an object wrapped in a white cloth. "Then here, take this."

You stepped towards him, and as he unwrapped it, you realized it was the dagger, a small jar of ash from the white oak tree beside it. "Damon..."

He shook his head, his face sullen. "Y/N, I've been around long enough to know when I'm fighting a losing battle with you. And if you're going to insist on being this stupid," he held the dagger out to you. "I at least need to know you have a backup plan."

You nodded, dipping the dagger in the ash before placing it carefully into your jacket. "I have to go," you whispered.

He rolled his eyes. "Wouldn't want to keep him waiting..."

*****

You paced in your kitchen, suddenly nervous as you waited for Elijah to arrive.

You couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. Sure, he was attractive, and his charm was refined, but there was something more. A gravity pulling you into him that you couldn't seem to escape.

Maybe Damon was right, maybe this was crazy. Elijah wasn't exactly safe - you had no reason to trust him. You considered the dagger hidden in your sweater, feeling as if even having it in your possession was a betrayal. Still, you weren't sure where the sense of loyalty came from. Before you could think on it any longer, you took it out.

A gentle knock alerted you to his arrival, and you panicked, shoving the dagger in the knife drawer before making your way to the front door. You looked yourself over once more, fixing your hair and wiping your palms on your thighs.

You took a deep breath, steeling your nerves. You swung the door open, the air leaving your lungs as you took in the sight of him.

He stood in a pristine suit. He oozed confidence, but the hint of a smile he offered you was reserved. His eyes were warm, and as they traced over you you felt the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Good evening, Y/N.”

You managed a breathy hi in response, and swallowed, leaning up against the door for balance as you felt the familiar pull. You waited for a moment and he let out a soft chuckle.

“Are you going to invite me in?” He asked calmly.

You shook your head, as if clearing the fog. “Right, yea, of course...sorry...” you muttered. “Elijah,” your eyes met his, a heaviness settling over the two of you, as if the invitation wasn’t just into your home, but your life. “Would you like to come in?”

He unbuttoned his jacket, placing his hands in his pockets as he stepped over the threshold with ease.

He maneuvered with a gracefulness you could never hope to possess and you were mesmerized with each movement. He stepped into your space, crowding you and making you realize you hadn’t backed up to give him room. He looked down at you, and your breath hitched at being so close to him.

His smile was knowing and soft, like he was holding something back. As if he had a secret. He took a deep breath, his eyes tracing your neck. “It smells delicious.”

You froze, unsure if you had made a mistake. Still, something in you stirred though, a curiosity that had you wanting to offer him everything.

“Are we having Italian?” He asked with a smirk.

You bit your lip, glad that his teasing broke the tension. “Umm, yea,” you laughed before remembering the oven. “Shit!”

You rushed to the kitchen, Elijah forgotten for a moment as you tried to save the lasagna you had slaved over. You grabbed pot holders, tearing the oven open and pulling out the ceramic dish. In your hurry you lost your grip, and it fell to the floor.

Elijah hadn’t been quick enough to save your grandmother’s recipe, or maybe it wasn’t where his priority had been, but he had rushed in, spinning you away from the scalding hot dish that splattered before you could even process what had happened.

In his movements you had lost your balance, but he steadied you, pulling you into him. You had your hands on his chest. Your gazes locked, his breath mingling with yours as he straightened up, steadying you with ease before releasing his grip on you.

Your hands remained on his chest for a moment longer before you stepped away from him. “Thank you,” you whispered before turning to see the damage. Tomato sauce was all over your kitchen floor, and you were grateful he had saved you from a burn. You should have been upset that you had nothing to offer him for dinner, but you began to laugh. It was soft at first, and he watched you in amusement as it bubbled up, tears building in your eyes. “I’m sorry,” you howled. “But I slaved over this all afternoon...and you don’t even eat.”

He chuckled at that, and you grinned at the sound.

“You’re a vampire, and I know it’s just a myth, but that thing is loaded with garlic. Kind of funny...”

The irony wasn’t lost on him, but he was distracted, taken with how carefree you seemed. Something he was not used to humans being in his presence. You were so alive, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Until recently.

“Perhaps some wine,” he grinned.

The sight was enough to pull you from your fit of giggles, and you knew you’d do almost anything to pull that smile from him again. “Okay,” you agreed. You stooped down, using the pot holders to pick up the dish and dump it in the sink to be dealt with later. “You get the wine, I’ll clean this up,” you opened the closet, pulling out your mop.

He had offered to help, but you insisted, so he dug out a bottle of merlot from your cabinet while you made quick work of cleaning up the sauce.

“Do you have a bottle opener?” He asked, examining the label.

You placed the mop in the corner, it would need to be cleaned out, but it could wait. You glanced over your shoulder. “Second drawer to your right,” you replied as you moved to get wine glasses.

His movements stilled, and when you turned you found him holding the dagger in his hand, his eyes searching yours. “Tell me, Y/N,” he spoke slowly and deliberately. “What exactly did you have planned this evening?”

You moved next to him, pouring the wine and offering a glass to him.

He considered you for a moment, before taking the glass and placing the dagger on the counter between the two of you, the hilt facing you. If you wanted to, you could reach it with ease, and maybe he’d be quick enough, but something in you told you he wouldn’t stop you. Whatever your next move was, he was leaving it entirely up to you.

He sipped his wine in quiet contemplation, waiting for you to make your decision.

You opened the knife drawer, placing the bottle opener back inside. You picked up the dagger, twirling it in your fingers for a moment before placing it back where he had found it. You looked up at him, his head was cocked, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. “Dinner, drinks...pleasant conversation. Of course, that was before I ruined the dinner,” you added.

His eyes narrowed, as if he were trying to piece you together. “Perhaps,” he said. “However I believe we’ve remedied the drinks.”

“And the conversation?” You asked. He grinned again, and your heart pounded at the sight. He was achingly beautiful.

“I find conversation is almost always pleasant with you,” he admitted softly.

You took a sip of your wine. “Almost always?” You questioned.

He shrugged, a levity behind his eyes. “I believe you told me to...what was it?” He made a show of pretending to comb through his memories and you winced. “Go fuck myself, was it?”

The curse sounded foreign from his lips, as if something so crude didn’t belong coming from someone so noble, and you couldn’t help but chuckle in embarrassment. “To be fair, you were threatening my friend...”

He nodded, his tongue darting out and wetting his lips. You followed the movement. “Ahh yes, Damon Salvatore,” there was a hint of distaste in his voice, but you didn’t press the issue. After all, the feeling was mutual. “For all of his flaws I can see he cares about you.”

You nodded. “He’s my best friend,” you offered.

“And yet you’re here with me. I assume Damon provided the dagger.”

“He’s just looking out for me.”

He nodded at that, and you wondered if there was a hint of respect there. “He protects those he loves...”

“One of those qualities that keeps me hanging around,” you shrugged.

He took another sip. “Tell me, what is keeping you here with me?”

A heaviness settled between you as you considered your answer. “Gravity,” you breathed. You weren’t sure why you had made that confession, but something about the way he looked at you told you that he could be trusted. That he’d protect you, too. “It’s like every time I try to put some distance between us, I am pulled back in even further,” your voice was a whisper. “What is that?” You blushed, turning away and sipping at your wine.

“Gravity,” he repeated as though trying it on.

Your eyes shot to his again, and you found yourself inching closer in a trance. You were pulled out of the moment when your stomach rumbled loudly. Your face flushed. “Sorry,” you chuckled.

He straightened his posture, leaving space between you once more. “Let’s find you something to eat, shall we?”

You beamed as he took off his suit jacket, rolling up his sleeves and getting to work, rifling through your fridge. He ignored your protests, insisting that in all of his years he has managed to learn a thing or two, and that you had already slaved over one dinner. Now it was his turn. So you did as he said, and sat at the island, watching him work.

He asked you about your family, and you told him about your hometown. How moving to Mystic Falls hadn’t been so bad. You laughed as you told him about your siblings and the time you had gotten grounded for stealing your parents car. You told him how your mother had taught you magic, and how it had come from her mother before her.

As you ate he shared about the places he had traveled, how his time in New Orleans had felt the most like home and he’d like to return someday. He promised to take you to Paris, and told you how he had missed his baby sister.

And suddenly you realized that this Original that everyone had feared, this legend, was still just a man somehow. A man with regrets and dreams. A man who has suffered great loss throughout lifetimes, and your heart swelled. You got the sense as he talked that he saw himself as a monster, and it broke you inside a little. You suddenly couldn’t reconcile the monster he saw with the man you were getting to know. You only saw Elijah.

Maybe it was that realization, or the wine. Perhaps a combination of the two, but as he stood to clear your plate, you placed your hand on his wrist. He paused and you stood, moving into him. Slowly you inched closer, your eyes searching his for any signal that you may be unwelcome before they fluttered shut. You placed your lips against his delicately. His lips were soft and he stilled, breathing you in.

The kiss was brief, but you remained close, your faces almost touching and your breaths mingling before you pulled back and smiled. “Gravity,” you whispered.

When he didn’t respond you pulled away, clearing your throat. “Sorry, I just...”

His hand on your elbow cut you off, and he spun you back into his chest, his other hand brushing the hair from your face. His eyes searched yours. “Y/N,” he whispered. “I haven’t felt this alive in centuries,” he admitted softly.

You fisted your hands in his shirt, your body pleading for him to move.

As with all things Elijah (you had come to learn over the last few weeks) he was deliberate and controlled. He leaned in slowly, tasting your lips once more, and pulling a soft hum from you. He pulled back to look at you, his secret smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Gravity,” he said again.

And then he was moving, his lips crashing into yours, all hints of carefulness dissipated as his tongue begged for entrance. You opened to him, and he kissed you greedily, the taste of wine on his tongue. His hands traced your curves, and you were surprised when you found yourself pressed to the wall in your living room. His strength excited you, and you noted his restraint. You hitched a leg up, and he held it up, wrapping it around himself as he pressed into you.

You moaned, and he released you then, his mouth tracing a path down your neck. Your hands ran through his hair, running down the back of his neck, your fingertips desperately seeking. You traced along his shoulders to his chest, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.

You pulled, untucking it from his belt and pushing it down his shoulders, desperate to feel him. Your hands roamed the hard muscle of his chest, but it wasn’t enough.

He pulled away, discarding his shirt before stripping you of your sweater. He took in the sight of your breasts greedily, and you were grateful you thought to wear the black lace bra. He traced his fingers along the edge of the fabric, and you yelped when he suddenly pulled, tearing the scrap of lace from your body.

You would have been annoyed that he had ruined your favorite bra if his mouth hadn’t latched on to your chest, his tongue tracing your nipple. His teeth grazing, dancing the line between pleasure and pain.

You arched your back, your hips searching, and once again he moved you, his hand cradling your head as you found yourself on your back on the couch. He rose up, eager to look at you, take you all in as he hiked your skirt up above your thighs.

His gaze burnt a trail into your skin, the blush rising as he watched you. Still, you didn’t shy away, letting him drink it all in. Your hips rose on their own volition, desperate and searching for purchase.

He clenched his jaw, and he traced his fingers along your panties. You whimpered beneath him, and even as you slammed your eyes shut you could tell he was cataloging the ways you reacted to him.

“Elijah,” you cried, sitting up on your elbows.

He leaned forward, kissing you again, tasting you. He pushed your panties aside his fingers teasing your folds and you cried out. He smiled, and you felt like you were in on his secret now, privy to a piece of himself he didn’t often share.

He swallowed your moans as he worked you, pressing one, then two fingers into you. He groaned at the tightness. His tongue traced your throat and you dug your nails into his back as he used his thumb to work your clit.

You gripped his arm desperately with one hand, the other tangling in his hair - your body tightening as you felt your orgasm building.

“Please,” you begged, reaching for his belt.

He sat up once more, making quick work of his belt and zipper, releasing himself before leaning back down, desperate to be close to you. He pressed into you, and you both groaned at the contact, a wave of relief washing over you both before he began to move.

He hitched your leg up, pressing himself deeper into you and you writhed beneath him. You met every thrust, slamming your eyes shut at the pure ecstasy that was Elijah. He held himself up with one arm, his other hand tracing your throat. You hoped there’d be more of this, that you would have time to give him everything.

He began to thrust harder, and he brought his thumb to your clit once more, rubbing deliciously as he filled you.

He sat up, pulling you with him so you straddled him, his thumb still teasing your clit as you rode him. He buried his face in your chest, kissing every inch of skin he could find. You bounced on him, chasing your orgasm wildly. You rose and rose, feeling like you were floating until suddenly you exploded. You cried out, and he followed you over the edge. He worked you through it, taking in every way you moved as you came.

You came back down softly, Elijah pulling you in, his gravity keeping you in his orbit.

He chuckled quietly against your throat, his voice deep and wrecked. “Does that happen often?”

You opened your eyes to ask him what he meant only to find you had shattered the bulbs in the house, your residual magic released and leaving you in a blackout. You laughed then, the movement quickly rippling into aftershocks of pleasure. “No,” you panted. “Never.” You leaned back to look at him.

Even in the dark you could see his secret smile. “We may need to get you a flashlight,” he teased.

You shook your head. “Mmm,” you hummed. “I’ve got it.” You closed your eyes, concentrating when suddenly all of the candles in the room lit up.

Your eyes met his in the flicker of light, and you leaned down in a languid kiss.

“Gravity,” he growled against your lips.

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson fanfic #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson smut #the originals #damon salvatore #request #fic request #elijah smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #the originals imagine #tvd imagine #tvd smut #the originals smut

2K notes · View notes

helloalycia · 3 years

Text

my patient’s neighbour [one] // wanda maximoff

summary: whilst caring for a new patient of yours, you definitely didn't expect to fall for her cute neighbour, Wanda Maximoff

warning/s: very minor mentions of injuries and death

author's note: okay so firstly, buckle in, folks, this is gonna be like 6 parts long lol. Also, I google translated all the Russian bits so i apologise if they are incorrect! okay, you may enjoy now :)

"38... 38... 38..."

I scanned the doors to the many apartments in the hall, hoping to find the one that belonged to my newest patient – Anna Pivec. As a nurse, I was always given new patients to visit and tend to until they no longer needed it or chose not to have me around. I'd just been assigned a new patient, Anna, and was excited to meet her.

"38!" I said to myself, spotting the door at the end of the hallway. I knocked on before waiting patiently, hoping she wasn't sleeping or anything. It wasn't too early – 10AM – and she knew I was coming, so finger's crossed.

The door opened to reveal a short, old lady with grey hair and a cane in her hand. I smiled kindly, meeting her cloudy gaze.

"You must be the one my granddaughter is paying to look after me because she can't do it herself," the woman spoke before I could introduce myself. Stepping to the side, she motioned with her cane. "Come on in."

My smile dropped at her abruptness. "I, er, yeah, I guess that's me." As I walked in, I said, "My name is Y/N Y/L/N. The nurse from–"

"Yeah, I know where you're from," she cut me off, closing the door and heading further into her apartment. "They sent me a brochure, milaya."

I followed after her, surprised at how quick she was for an old lady with back and heart problems. She was leading me into the open plan living-room and kitchen.

"I'm sorry – milaya? What does that mean?" I asked politely, hoping I didn't come across as rude.

She waved her hand dismissively, mumbling something to herself in what I think was Russian. Her profile did say she was from Sokovia, so maybe that was it.

"Okay, erm, well, as I said," I changed the subject, figuring she wouldn't give me an answer, "I'm Y/N. I'll be here five times a week and basically be doing anything you need me to do. Of course, I only want you to be comfortable in your own home, so if you ever feel anything but, please let me know."

She hummed in acknowledgement before motioning for me to follow her. I set my bag on the kitchen counter before sitting on the couch as she did so on the recliner. She sighed with content as the pain on her back was eased from taking a seat.

"Tell me about yourself," she said gently.

I smiled with amusement. "That's usually what I ask my patients."

"Do forgive me, milaya," she said, and I made a mental note to bring a Russian-English dictionary with me tomorrow, "but you're a stranger in my home. I'd prefer to know about you before I let you take care of me."

I nodded, slightly impressed. Her profile didn't do her justice. Usually, the elderly I cared for were quick to allow me to do my thing, never really questioning who I was or what my intentions were. I was starting to get the impression that Anna was a strong, stubborn woman in a little old lady's body – definitely not one to mess around with.

"Okay, well, I'm a nurse," I began with the basics, and from there, went into a long ramble about my job, how I got into it, what it consisted of...

Anna was full of questions, taking the time to get to know me and I her. Once I had told her everything I could think to, she told me about her life. How she lived in Sokovia up until she was thirty-five years old and had to flee with her husband and daughter because of the war. She gushed about the both of them, a twinkle in her eye as she recalled their livelihoods like they were still alive. Her husband had unfortunately passed many years ago due to liver problems – "All that drinking, milaya! Us Sokovians are a force to be reckoned with!" – and her daughter had passed in a car accident not long after.

It was a tragic tale, but she didn't let it bring her down. In fact, she seemed grateful to have lived it and I couldn't help but smile as she shared it with me.

I noticed she would speak short phrases in Russian mid-conversation, without realising, which didn't make it easier for me to understand, but I couldn't bring it in myself to interrupt her to ask what they meant because she said it with such sincerity that I figured it reminded her of her home.

After our conversation, I made her lunch and gave her her medication before watching some TV with her and pretty much talking to her once again. She was quite an interesting woman, different to my usual patients, and I was enjoying our time together. After spending the day there, I wished her a good night before leaving.

When I returned the next morning, I let myself in with the key Anna gave me and called out a good morning.

"In here!" an unfamiliar female voice called out.

I furrowed my brows as I took off my jacket and headed into the living-area. Anna was sat in her recliner as usual, but she had a guest sat on her couch. A young woman, possibly my age, with long dark hair and a friendly smile on her lips was sat comfortably; she had a cup of tea in her hands and her legs pulled up on the couch like she lived there.

The stranger and Anna exchanged words in Russian briefly before the former stood up, about to introduce herself.

"Oh, are you her granddaughter?" I asked, putting two and two together. It was the only explanation I could think of for how comfortable she was and the fact that she was also Sokovian (I assumed, anyway).

The girl laughed, her green eyes sparkling as she shook her head. Putting out her hand, she said, "I'm Wanda Maximoff. Anna's neighbour."

Slightly embarrassed by my mistake, I smiled awkwardly and shook her hand. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have– I just thought because you were speaking Russian that–"

"It's fine, no harm no foul," she put me at ease quickly, before taking her seat again. "I've lived next door to Anna for about a year now. Sometimes I keep her company on my days off."

I set my bag on the floor before taking a seat on the couch, leaving a gap between Wanda and I.

"That's nice," I said with a smile before looking to Anna. "How are you feeling this morning, Mrs Pivec?"

She sighed, waving her hand dismissively, before saying something to Wanda in Russian who was listening intently. Nodding her head, Wanda looked to me with amusement.

"What did she say?" I asked, quirking a brow.

"She said she told you to stop calling her Mrs Pivec yesterday," Wanda translated, trying not to laugh.

"Just call me Anna, Y/N," Anna added with a nod. "And I'm fine. Just had breakfast with Wanda here."

"Breakfast," I repeated slowly. "How long ago was that? Just gotta make sure you get your meds."

"Shoot, am I doing your job?" Wanda asked, slightly panicked.

"No, no, you're not." I laughed at the way she scrunched her nose. "I mean, it would help if I could have breakfast with Miss– Anna, so I know when she has her medication. But it's all good."

"Are you sure? I can leave if I'm in the way," Wanda said with a frown.

"No need," I reassured her. "If Anna doesn't mind your presence, it's all good. I'm just here to look after her, clean up, make sure she eats, has her meds."

Wanda looked to Anna, who seemed unbothered by her presence.

"She can stay," Anna said with a shrug. "Makes it feel less like I'm a pet."

I opened my mouth to say something, possibly make her feel better, but I wasn't sure what to say.

"Don't mind her," Wanda reassured, giving Anna a knowing look before shooting me an easygoing smile. "She tends to speak her mind exactly as it is. No filter whatsoever. And very stubborn. You may have noticed."

I cracked a smile, feeling better knowing that it wasn't just me who noticed Anna's unique personality traits.

"Hey, that stubbornness and lack of filter is exactly how I beat my husband and his friends in every poker game back home," Anna said with a playful smirk.

Wanda and I chuckled, before the brunette leaned on the couch comfortably and looked to me.

"We finished breakfast, maybe, ten minutes ago? I made us eggs and toast," she answered my question from earlier.

I hummed before getting up with my bag and heading to the kitchen. Setting my bag on the counter, I grabbed my diary and also Anna's medication from its place on the kitchen counter.

"I'll give you your medicine now, Anna," I told her, already grabbing a glass of water for her.

"Thank you, milaya," she called back, and I spun around, immediately going to get my Russian-English dictionary from my bag. "Wait, I know what that is!" I flicked through the pages and scanned it eagerly. "Milaya... milaya... milaya! Okay, it means... sweetie."

"Sweetie," Wanda said at the same time, and I looked up to see her watching me from behind her cup of tea, trying not to laugh again.

"I guess another perk of your presence is being the translator," I said sheepishly, realising just how eager I was a second ago. "Anna likes to speak Russian a lot, which I'm fine with of course, but..." I waved the dictionary in the air.

"It's funny watching tvoye lichiko, milaya," Anna said with that same mischievous smirk on her face.

I looked down to my dictionary, struggling to pinpoint a single word in her sentence that I could search. It was overwhelming, the words going in one ear and out the other.

"She said it's funny watching your little face, sweetie," Wanda translated upon seeing my frozen state.

I relaxed my shoulders. "Thanks." Then I realised what she said. "Hey!"

Anna laughed as Wanda grinned, and I was suddenly glad she was here. I grabbed Anna's meds with a glass of water before giving them to her. After making sure she swallowed them properly, I put the glass to the side and took a seat on the couch again.

"So, you said you visited Anna on your days off?" I asked Wanda, intrigued by why a neighbour would be so interested in another. It wasn't very common in today's day and age.

"She's almost always here," Anna answered before Wanda could speak. I looked to her as she continued with a grateful smile. "Helps me with everything. Groceries, cleaning, my medication."

"So basically me but unpaid," I joked, and Anna laughed.

"Exactly," she agreed, and I looked to Wanda to see her blushing, eyes avoiding mine.

"That's really sweet," I said gently, earning her attention. "You're a really good neighbour, Wanda."

Wanda ran a hand through her hair. "It's nothing. If anything, I enjoy being here. Anna reminds me of Sokovia and my family and, well, home."

"Oh, so you're Sokovian, too?"

She nodded before smiling playfully. "Did the accent not give it away?"

I hid a smile. "I didn't want to assume. I mean, you could've been Czech. Slovakian. Basically anything else."

"Okay, I'll give you that," she gave in, tilting her head to the side, smile widening.

It was then that I learnt her smile was extremely contagious.

Same as yesterday, my plan was to stay the day with Anna, though this time Wanda also kept her company (and me, too). After lunch, I left the two of them to watch some TV as I excused myself to change Anna's bedsheets in her room, ready for bed tonight.

As I was doing so, I heard the door open and glanced over my shoulder to see Wanda entering the room. I gave her a smile before continuing to replace the pillowcase.

"Here, I can help," she offered, and didn't give me chance to decline as she grabbed the pillow on the other side of the bed and began to change its case.

"You sure? You know it's my job, right?" I teased, looking up at her over the bed between us.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm aware. Just thought I'd make it a bit easier for you."

I chuckled. "Well, I appreciate it... how is Anna?"

"Dozed off," Wanda quipped with an expectant nod. "Same time every day. Like clockwork."

"Huh." I thought back to yesterday and how she ended up taking a nap after lunch, too. "Noted. Thanks."

Wanda smiled before putting the pillowcase on the pillow and puffing it with her hands. I did the same, content with its appearance, before moving to the duvet. Wordlessly, Wanda grabbed one end and began to help me put it on, which I appreciated. The duvet was bigger than I was and definitely a two-person job.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" I spoke out of the blue as we were putting on the duvet cover.

"Go for it," she said encouragingly, glancing sideways.

"Of course, you don't have to answer, but I thought I'd ask since I'm going to be looking after Anna for a while," I gave a little disclaimer, before saying, "She makes a lot of snide remarks about her granddaughter. Do they not get along?"

Wanda sighed quietly. "Her granddaughter doesn't really visit her here. She rarely calls."

"Her daughter's kid?"

"The only one," Wanda confirmed. "She keeps her distance, ever since her mum – Anna's daughter – passed. She just pays for, well, you."

I frowned. "That's sad."

"Yeah," Wanda agreed, breathing out.

The two of us spread the duvet over the double bed before I looked to her with a small smile.

"At least she has you," I pointed out. "It's nice you give up your free time to spend it with her."

"Like I said, it's good for me, too," she reminded me, returning the smile.

"So what do you do when you're not here keeping her company?" I asked curiously, moving to Anna's bedside to clear it up a little.

Wanda hid her smile behind a look of confusion. "Do you not– don't you recognise me?"

I quirked a brow, pausing my actions. "Am I supposed to?"

She snickered, shaking her head, eyes falling to the bed with mild disbelief. "I mean, I guess not. I'm–" She chuckled, looking to my confused face. "I'm one of the Avengers."

I studied her, her words not quite settling in. But when they did, I realised I actually recognised her and she was one of the Avengers.

"Oh my God!" I blurted, the penny finally dropping. "The one with the weird red energy powers! I mean– not weird but– the magic!"

She stifled laughter, nodding her head. Just like her smile, her laughter was contagious, too.

"Yeah, that's me," she confirmed.

I made a weird motion with my free hand, like I'd seen her do on TV when saving the day. "Does Anna know about your y'know?"

Wanda crossed her arms, raising a brow and watching me with a humoured gaze. "Is that supposed to be my powers?"

I stopped making the motion and felt my neck heating up. "I– yeah."

Laughter spilled from her lips yet again, automatically making me smile. I didn't mind that I'd made a fool of myself all of a sudden.

"Anna knows, yes," Wanda said with a bright smile. "She actually recognised me straight away. Much quicker than you. And she's eighty."

Waving my hand to distract from my flushed cheeks, I said, "Pfft, she probably confused you with someone else and played along when you told her who you were."

"Yeah, I'm sure that was it, ty milyy maneken," she retorted with her piercing gaze.

"No fair, my dictionary is in the other room," I said with a pout, and she only laughed even more.

"Guess you'll never know," she teased with a smirk, making me roll my eyes to distract from the way it made me feel when she stared at me like that.

It was much later on when I learnt that she had called me 'a cute dummy'. And that was the beautiful start to Wanda and I's introduction into each other's lives.

—

From then onwards, about eighty percent of the time I would go to care for Anna, Wanda was present, too and I didn't mind one bit. Not only did she keep Anna company, but she made my job a lot easier whilst keeping me company as well.

I was beginning to look forward to seeing her whenever I would open the door. Whether she was cleaning something up, playing board games with Anna or simply having a tidy up around the apartment, she'd always stop what she was doing and help me with whatever was in my hands as she greeted me at the door. It was adorable. She was adorable.

The few times she wasn't present because of work only made me miss her, the apartment feeling emptier than usual. Even Anna agreed, the two of us making up for the lack of the Sokovian girl's presence by distracting ourselves with other activities.

I was convinced Anna was warming up to me as she freely let me care for her without resistance. Obviously, she wouldn't be Anna if she didn't throw funny remarks my way or speak to me in Russian, knowing I didn't understand her, but it was tolerable. And I was liking her, too; she was easily becoming one of the best patients I cared for. There was just so much personality to her that I couldn't help but smile whenever I spoke to her.

One time, I was helping Anna out at her place when Wanda wasn't present. I was leading her into her bed when I decided now was a better time than ever to ask her about her birthday on Sunday, which I knew was then because of her file.

"So, I'll be seeing you in two days next," I told her as I pulled the duvet over her. "And a little birdie told me it's your birthday then. Eighty-one, Anna! That's amazing!"

She smiled but seemed embarrassed that I knew.

"Tell me what you want and I can make it happen," I said promisingly, smiling down at her.

She waved her hand. "I don't want anything, milaya (sweetie). Your presence is enough."

I chuckled. "As sweet as that is, I know everybody wants something for their birthday. Now please, Anna. What can I do to make the day a bit more special?"

She pondered my question momentarily and I waited for her to speak, hoping it was something doable.

"I would love to have a traditional Sokovian meal," she said reluctantly. "It's been a long time."

I breathed out quietly, patting her hand gently. "I can do that, Anna. Don't you worry."

She smiled genuinely, before shooing me away. "Okay, enough sappiness, ty mozhesh' uyti seychas (you can leave now)."

I laughed, standing up and dusting my pants off. I only knew what that phrase meant because she said it almost every time before my shift ended and I left for the day. I knew she didn't mean it as harshly as it sounded.

"I'm going, I'm going," I said, already heading to the door. "I'll see you Sunday, birthday girl."

She groaned quietly, making me grin, before I double checked everything was okay in the living-area and grabbed my stuff to leave.

As easy of a request that it was, I knew absolutely nothing about cooking a traditional Sokovian meal. But I knew of one person who did and instantly headed to Wanda's apartment next door to see if she was home.

With a quick knock, I waited patiently. I wasn't sure if she was even home since she hadn't visited Anna today and she usually did so if she was. When I was beginning to think she wasn't, I told myself I could Google a recipe and put something together, but then the door opened and revealed a tired-looking Wanda.

"Y/N," she said with surprise, but a friendly smile was on her lips nonetheless.

"Hey, I'm so sorry to disturb you this late, but I wanted to ask– wait, what happened to your face?" I stopped speaking and lost my own smile when I noticed the faint scratches and bruises dusting her skin.

"Oh, it's nothing–" she started, raising her hand, fingers wavering over her head, but I cut her off.

"Shit, Wanda, what happened?" I reached out, taking her hand in mine and studying the cast that was around her wrist. Concerned frown on my lips, I glanced up at her. "Are you okay?"

"It's fine, Y/N," she tried to reassure, but I couldn't help it as my worry got the better of me and I studied the cuts on her cheek. "I just came back from a mission. Minor injuries. Honestly."

I let go of her hand, realising I was still holding it, and nodded slightly. "Right..." Realising she must have been exhausted, I awkwardly stepped back and shook my head with realisation. "Sorry, I should go. I didn't mean to bot–"

"You were saying something," she interrupted, nodding encouragingly. "You wanted to ask me something. What is it?"

I paused, nodding. Admittedly, I was still worried about the bruises on her forehead. I knew she was an Avenger and this was probably the norm for her, but to me, it looked like she'd just got mugged. And the irregularity of that worried me.

"Yeah, I was saying," I finally found my words, trying to ignore the way her tired eyes peered at me hopefully. "It's Anna's birthday on Sunday and she wants to have a traditional Sokovian meal to celebrate. The only problem is, I don't know what that is." Wanda cracked a smile as I continued. "Do you, maybe, have a recipe I could use?"

"Of course," she said before motioning for me to follow her. "Come on in."

I followed after her, closing the door behind me, and stopped at the kitchen counter patiently. As she searched for a notebook in her drawer, I subtly glanced around, taking in the inside of Wanda's apartment. I'd never actually been in it before, but the minimal décor was very her. She didn't have many knickknacks and everything on display served a purpose.

"There's some recipes in here," she said, grabbing my attention. She slid the notebook across the counter and leaned forward with a smile. "Take your pick."

I flicked through it briefly, smiling at the notebook filled with recipes, all in Wanda's neat, cursive handwriting.

"Thank you," I said gratefully, looking up and catching her staring.

She perked up, clearing her throat as she nodded in response before looking the other way. Cute.

"Are you working on Sunday?" I asked with a raised brow, before rolling my eyes playfully. "What am I saying? Of course you're not. Not with that wrist."

She chuckled, still avoiding my eyes. "I'm not."

"Well, why don't you come over for her birthday? You can help me cook her a meal. Or rather, I can help you cook it since I'll probably screw it up."

Finally meeting my eyes, she smiled with amusement. "Are you sure?"

I gave her a knowing look, ignoring the butterflies swirling in my stomach as she held my gaze with her intense dark eyes. "Yes, I'm sure. Anna will love to celebrate with you. And..." I pursed my lips, taking a leap of faith and adding, "and I'd love it, too."

Wanda let out a quiet laugh. "You would, would you?"

I straightened up, smile widening. "Yeah, I would."

She tilted her head, studying me with a curious smile. "Well then, I clearly can't say no."

Something stirred in my chest the longer she watched me and I oddly liked it. It was obvious that Wanda was a beautiful girl with a heart of gold, but I guess I hadn't really acknowledged that I may have had feelings for her until now. And I didn't mind one bit.

"Great," I finally found my words, nodding slightly. "I'll see you Sunday."

She mirrored my expression, saying, "See you Sunday," and I knew I couldn't wait until then.

#wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff x you #marvel #mcu #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #elizabeth olsen imagine

634 notes · View notes

doctenwho · 3 years

Text

Hangovers, Love and Space Vodka (PE Pt. 2)

Hello! Requests are definitely open, even if I’m awfully slow! I feel bad at how slow these are coming out especially since there’s so many in waiting, but writing just hasn’t been on the table recently. Apologies for that!

But I’ve found the time and the motivation, so I decided to get this done! Thank you for your patience! This is such a cute idea, and it always makes me happy that people like the first parts enough to request a continuation. I had a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you readers like it too!

So, please enjoy the continuation of Purest Expression (also, you should probably read that one if you haven’t already, this fic heavily references it!) Also, I just thought the name was funny and I was in desperate need for one, so feel free to suggest others if you’ve got one!

Warnings: Talk of alcohol, but no drinking!

Word Count: 4,050

Summary: Check out the prompt above! :)

(Gif doesn’t belong to me, credit to the talented creator!)

You didn’t really remember a lot when you woke up. All you really knew was you'd drank far too much of that delicious cocktail, and that your brain was pounding in your head. This was quite possibly one of the worst hangovers you’d had, but honestly, you’d do it all over again to have another one of those space cocktails.

You rolled onto your back, lifting your hands to cover your eyes in an attempt to block out what little light managed to stream into the room. Your stomach churned at the movement, but it settled out easily enough after you didn’t move a muscle for a few minutes following your roll.

You relaxed back into the bed when your stomach settled down, and finally uncovered your eyes, staring up at the ceiling with a bleary gaze.

As you laid there, you tried to piece together the evening. The bits and pieces between arriving and having enough to drink that you could no longer walk a straight line.

You knew you’d gone out on the town with the Doctor—he'd been excited to show you things. He'd raved enthusiastically about the planet, and you’d listened along as your own excitement grew too. Then, you remember finally stepping out of the TARDIS and being completely astounded by this new planet, with all its colours, music and general liveliness.

The cute little bar wedged between two buildings; you remember that too. And of course, you remember the cocktail—you'd had two, or three, or... had it been four? You couldn’t really pinpoint it. The Doctor had said it was weaker than earth vodka, and maybe it was, but the after effects were definitely more intense to a human that human vodka was. That said you’d still be down for another drink or two before you left.

It was well worth the pain of a hangover to taste that drink again. Just the thought of it made your tastebuds tingle.

You let out a light laugh before rolling back over onto you side, but this time following it up with pulling yourself to a sitting position. The nausea was still there, but hardly noticeable; just a subtle warning to keep your movements slow and steady lest you start gagging.

Your head was still pounding, but you knew that wasn’t going to go away without pain killers, so you stumbled to your feet to go find the Doctor. He’d have something that could help, and at this point, you didn’t care what planet it came from, so long as it killed the raging headache and... well, didn’t kill you.

You found the Doctor in the kitchen of all places.

He was perched at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in front of him, as well as a book. He startled when you stepped into the room, breathing a light, “oh, (Y/N),” as a greeting.

You continued into the room, wobbling on your feet for just a second, “good morning,” you greeted in return, forcing a smile onto your lips despite the headache, “you don’t happen to have any pain killers do you?”

The Doctor frowned, “are you unwell?”

“Just a bit of a hangover,” you promised with a wave of your hand, “a little worse than an earth alcohol hangover, but it’s manageable. I’ll be fine, my head just really hurts.”

“Right, of course,” the Doctor nodded, pushing himself up and moving towards the cupboards. He rifled around the cabinets, reading labels of things and putting them back before he finally found what he was looking for, “these aren’t of your earth, but they are basically the same thing as your planet’s Advils. I’m sorry I don’t have anything that’ll help from your earth, I should really invest in some if I’m going to keep soliciting companions from earth.”

“Soliciting?” You snorted a laugh, which made you wince lightly, “really?”

“Well, I do tempt you humans away with the offer of the entirety of the universe, now, don’t I?” You smiled at the Doctor’s cheeky grin as he joined you at your side, setting the pill bottle in front of you to do with as you pleased, whether that was to ignore it, or take a couple, before he carried on to the counter. “No different really, I offer the universe in exchange for companionship, and I’m proud to say very few have ever declined. Now, would you like a tea, or coffee?”

“Jokes on the ones who declined, they’re really missing out,” you huffed out as you picked up the pill bottle, surveying over the list of ingredients. None looked too out of the world, but honestly, you’d do anything at this point to ease the thrum of your headache, so you uncapped the bottle, “surprise me.”

The Doctor turned back to flash you a grin from where he’d busied himself at the counter, “will do, my Dear.”

You shook a few pills into your hand from the bottle, eyeing them as if they were about to change colours or something similarly alien-like, but when none of that happened, you frowned, “how many do I take?”

“Well...” the Doctor turned thoughtfully to lean against the counter, “I’d say to start off with one and see if it does anything for you. There will be small differences from planet to planet, and we wouldn’t want you to overdose. After a half an hour you can try taking another pill if one doesn’t help.”

“Sounds good,” you popped a single pill into your mouth before you could hesitate. As if the Doctor was magic, he slid a mug of you go-to morning beverage towards you, and you washed the pill down with a sip of the perfectly prepared drink.

You savored the taste of your drink, sighing into the warmth. When you’d had a couple sips, you put the cap back on the pill bottle and slid the bottle to the center of the table. You watched the Doctor move around the small kitchen as he made himself another coffee before joining you at the table.

The two of you settled into a silence, thankfully. You hunched over the table, your elbows on the surface and your cheeks cupped in your palms, as the Doctor continued reading, but he looked like he was lost in his thoughts instead of actually reading.

“How long have you been up?” you asked slowly, squeezing your eyes shut before blinking them open again to see the Doctor’s gaze on you. “You’re kinda spacing out.”

“I’ve just... some things on my mind,” the Doctor admits with a tiny curl upwards of his lips. It didn’t really answer the question, but at the same time it did. You didn’t think the Doctor had even gone to sleep. “Has the headache eased at all?”

Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape noticing suddenly that the headache was in fact almost gone. You hadn’t even realized, “yeah,” you informed with a laugh, “almost gone. I didn’t even notice—space things are so much better than earth things; the drugs and alcohol.”

“That would be a very worrying observation if I didn’t know exactly what you were talking about,” the Doctor snorted a laugh. You laughed along too, even if the statement was completely true—it had only been about ten minutes and the space Advil was already working wonders, where as the earth stuff could take anywhere from fifteen to thirty minutes to actually kick in.

“So,” you drawled after another string of comfortable silence between the two of you, “what’s been on you mind then?”

The Doctor eyed you up and down briefly before sighing, running his fingers through his hair and making his already untamed locks stand up at odder angles, “I was just thinking about yesterday.”

“Yesterday,” you parroted under your breath. You’d been thinking about yesterday too. How could you not be? There were still gaps in time where you don’t really remember what happened. “What happened yesterday?”

“You don’t remember?” The Doctor blinked.

“No, I do,” you leaned back in your chair with a sigh, “well, most of it, I think. But some of it... I don’t know? It’s kind of a blur. I guess the cocktails started hitting me towards the end of the evening, I barely remember coming back.”

“You were a bit out of it,” the Doctor admits sheepishly, “glad I cut you off at three drinks then.”

“I could’ve handled more,” you scoffed, smiling widely in a teasing way.

The Doctor rolled his eyes, leaning forwards, closer to you as his voice dropped, “I do believe three is probably your limit, Love.”

You let out a bout of bright laughter and the Doctor smiled softly. You loved how easy it was to banter with the man—how the two of you were so comfortable with the other that you could tease back and forth like this.

As if to prove his point, your head gave a warning thrum of pain that drew a shallow breath from you, “yeah,” you shook the pain off, “you’re probably right about three being my space-cocktail limit.”

The Doctor shook his head fondly at you as he settled back in his chair, “so, anything you’d like to know about yesterday? I did promise I’d tell you anything you’d like to know?”

You thought back to what you remembered about yesterday: the walk from the TARDIS to the bar, the ideal seating at the bar, those amazing rainbow cocktails that tasted like dreams. Drinking and chatting and laughing with the Doctor—splitting a plate of chips that were unbelievably delicious... and then... well, the space English the TARDIS didn’t bother translating for you.

“What was the bartender saying to you?”

The Doctor drew in a breath as his cheeks dusted the faintest pink, “nothing important, I assure.”

“C’mon,” you pouted, cradling your half drank, significantly cooled drink between your hands as you leaned towards the Doctor this time, “you said you promised to tell me about yesterday, right?”

The man chewed at his lip, subdued, but clearly trying to figure out the best course of action, “alright, well, we... I suppose we were acting a tad bit... involved? And... some assumptions were made about us by the barkeep.”

“Involved how?” you raised a questioning eyebrow. “And... what kind of assumptions?”

“Involved involved,” the Doctor cleared his throat, eyeing your level of understanding before rubbing his forehead and adding, “uhm, romantically involved. Those were, well, the main assumptions made as well.”

You gaped for a second before a thought came back to you suddenly, “he kept calling us lovers.”

“Yes,” the Doctor managed a light, fond smile, “I did try to explain it to him: us, our companionship—but, well, he... he didn’t believe me.”

“He didn’t believe you?” You repeated back, surprised.

“No,” the Doctor laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, “he made some pretty solid points in favor of us being romantically involved too, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” you teased, “and what points might those be?”

“Well, we were sitting fairly close--”

“As friends do,” the excuse came easily. The Doctor raised an eyebrow, but continued on like you hadn’t spoken.

“--I was hovering close to you, I suppose... A bit at least--”

“You were worried about me,” you interjected with a fond eyeroll at how wrong the bartender had been. Lovers? Come on, no way. You guys were... you were friends. Obviously. Though the thought of the Doctor hovering over you, making sure you were okay warmed your heart.

“--we leaned into each other’s sides, uhm, multiple times throughout the evening--”

You struggled for an excuse for that one, you did tend to lean into his space, not that the Doctor ever seemed to mind. And he liked to press into your personal space as well—neither of you really cared about proximity, so you managed a one shouldered shrug, “it was just loud in the bar, hard to hear each other.”

“--and, well, he pointed out I was staring at you occasionally; odd for him to have noticed, when I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

You couldn’t come up with an excuse for that one, eyebrows furrowing in confusion that made your breath catch in the weirdest way. He’d been staring at you? Why did that make you feel so happy?

“And then the fact that you returned the stare when I wasn’t looking. Honestly, that barkeep spent more time watching us than he did working last night, I’m sure.” The Doctor let out a playful scoff, genuinely amused that the bartender had put more time into them than his job.

You however, were suddenly caught up in the information.

He’d been staring at you when you weren’t looking—fondly, you were sure, if it had caught the bartender’s attention and led him to believe the two of you were in a relationship. Then there was the fact that you were staring at him in return? You’d been caught by someone staring at the Doctor? You knew you did it sometimes, how could you not? He was a good-looking, kind, compassionate man who liked your company. Just being with him made your heart speed up.

“That doesn’t mean we’re a couple,” you forced yourself to say, even if... well, you were questioning it just slightly. You knew, of course, that the two of you weren’t a couple but... “That bartender was just bored and looking too far into us, I’m sure he was doing it to everyone...”

“Of course not, surely we’d know if we were, right?” the Doctor agreed with a light grin. The grin only lingered for a second before it faltered and he chewed at his bottom lip. You were about to question it, but he spoke again before you could, “but, well, I suppose there is the song he had to go off of as well.”

“The song?” You questioned before it all flooded back—well, most of it, at least, “we were on a stage. We... we sang together. Was that a karaoke bar or something?”

“We were,” the Doctor ducked his head in a nod, “we... did. And it, well, it was kind of like your earth karaoke bar. Do you remember anything about it?”

You tried to remember, you know the Doctor explained it last night after he’d gotten the information from the barkeeper, but you still don’t really know. And you’re sure there were bits and pieces that he didn’t tell you last night as well. So, you shook your head.

“Right,” the man nodded, settling his elbows on the tabletop as he held his chin up, “well, the concept of the song ritual we were roped into performing is that you sing whatever song best corresponds to what you think about your peer. I’m not exactly sure how it works to be honest, the expression through song is just strong.”

“So, whatever I felt about you would be... conveyed through a song?”

“Yes.” The Doctor gives a light nod.

“And whatever you felt about me would... would also be?”

“Indeed,” his head tilts as he surveys you, trying to piece together where you were going with this string of questions.

“But... we sang a duet, didn’t we?” You furrowed your eyebrows, running a finger along the rim of your mug. You faintly remembered chiming in with the Doctor’s song, instantly knowing the new lines to his song despite not knowing his lines, or the actual song. “Does that happen? What... what does it mean?”

“Well,” the Doctor cleared his throat, looking nervous. “It does happen, it’s just, well, it’s rare? I suppose. The barkeeper, just before we left, told me that the last time he saw a duet happen during the expression through song ceremony was when he was a child.”

“Wow, okay,” you bit the inside of your cheek. You had a feeling you knew what it meant, and the thought made your cheeks heat up, but you asked anyways, “what does a duet mean?”

“Well, generally speaking...” the Doctor shot you a small, crooked smile, “it means that we feel exactly the same way about each other. Exactly the same to the point that our expression would be through the same song, at the same time.”

“Wow,” you couldn’t help but repeat, “that’s... wow. So it really is unusual then? Why did it happen to us? Was it a fluke?”

“No, don’t think so,” the Doctor shakes his head, a blush rising to his cheeks as his fingers tap against the table, “something like that would be hard to fake, so I doubt it was a fluke. We chose the song—deep in our subconscious when thinking of the other... I mean... I didn’t know the lyrics beforehand, did you?”

“No,” you breathed out, fingers fiddling with your empty mug, “I don’t even think I remember the lyrics now. They were just... in my head when they needed to be. I didn’t even know your lines of the song. It’s weird that we were the people that got the duet—random visitors.”

“It was the same for me,” the Doctor sends you a small smile, “I think few people view their... companion the same way their companion views them. It seems highly unlikely that any two people can feel the exact same way...”

You’re not sure why, but there’s something different about the way the Doctor says companion this time around. Maybe he holds a different fondness than you’re used to, or perhaps some other reason, but there’s an unfamiliar warmth in the word.

“But we did,” you whisper, looking up momentarily and catching the Doctor’s eyes before dropping your gaze back to your cup.

“But we did,” the Doctor repeats, just slightly louder than you. Like he too can’t wrap his brain around it. There’s a pause before the Doctor’s clearing his throat, forcing a crooked smile onto his lips. “Well, I promised you we head to the shops for some alcohol and other treats, didn’t I?”

The Doctor stands, moving swiftly towards the door without looking back.

“I meant it, you know?” You speak before you even realize you’re speaking. You don’t see the Doctor stop, since you’re facing the other direction, but you hear his steps come to a halt, feet planting in spot.

He doesn’t say anything for a second, which prompts you on, “I do need you.”

He still doesn’t say anything, or move, so you stand and gather both your mug and his own, walking in the opposite direction from him towards the sink. You set the mugs in but don’t touch the faucet, instead mumbling a soft, “I want you.”

You’re not even sure if he’d still there anymore, or if he’d taken you moving as his cue to escape. You don’t turn to look, afraid to not find him there, so instead you whisper what little of your lyrics from yesterday that you remember, “come on back to me.”

Another moment of silence drags in before you hear the Doctor moving. His steps are quick, and you think he’s leaving out the door when suddenly hands are on your waist and he’s swiftly turning you around and gently pushing you against the edge of the counter beside the sink.

You manage to muffle your surprise as his lips press against yours, soft but urgently all the same.

You melt into his lips, eyes slipping shut as his hands leave your waist, one wrapping around your middle, as the other rises to cup at your jaw. It spurs you on too, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him just slightest bit close, to which he blindly follows your lead.

You don’t pull away until the need to breath outweighs how good it feels to be kissing him.

You both gasp for breath, but neither of you pull away, lips still touching the faintest bit, “I didn’t think you even remembered the lyrics... how... intimate the duet was...” It’s the first thing the Doctor’s said since trying to flee the room.

You slowly open your eyes, catching his eyes waiting to make contact and a smile pulls at your lips. You pull away a bit, pushing your forehead against his, “I didn’t really remember the lyrics until just now, but I never forgot the feeling of singing them to you, and hearing you singing them back to me.”

The arm around your waist tightens around you, “I didn’t know you felt the same way,” the Doctor whispers. “I didn’t want to... make you uncomfortable, or chase you away. And then you woke up this morning, and didn’t remember anything with the hangover, so I... was going to let it go.”

You’re sure you make a noise of protest, maybe even disappointment, but you only assume because the Doctor lets out a chuckle before stealing another kiss that you’re more than happy to give.

When he goes to pull back, you snake your hand up to hold him in place, mumbling softly against his lips the last of your lyrics, a message he’d sure to understand, “I love you sundown.”

The Doctor freezes against you pulling back just enough to look into your eyes before a smile creeps onto his face. You smile at his smile, watching him fondly as his head tilts in that adorable way, affection bright in his eyes, “and I, you, my Love.”

You melt at the words leaning into him and pressing your head against his chest, fitted perfectly under his chin like a puzzle piece. Your arms wrap around him, and his move to hold you against himself just as you had done to him seconds earlier.

You stay like that for a while—you're not sure how long. You feel protected tucked against the Doctor, and it’s a feeling you’re never going to forget.

“How’s your head?” he asks softly above you, the voice after so long of nothing by his steady heart beats startles you. The Doctor presses an apologetic kiss to the top of your head.

“Better,” you decide, nuzzling closer to him, “why?”

“Well, I did promise we’d check out the shops, if you’re feeling up to it.”

“I almost forgot about that,” you laugh, finally pulling away. The Doctor unwraps his hand begrudgingly, frowning as he does so. You let out a laugh, slipping your hand into his. “I wanna see the shops before we leave this evening. We’ve gotta get some of that vodka.”

“I see more hangovers in your near future,” the Doctor snorts as he leads you along by the hand.

“Oh, and, we should definitely pick up a gift for the bartender from last night,” you add, ignoring the Doctor’s teasing jab at your weak human alcohol tolerance.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, without his instance that we sing, and his instance that we were a couple, none of this,” you gesture down to your interlocked hands as the two of you step out of the TARDIS and onto the busy, colourful streets, “would’ve happened.”

The Doctor’s quiet for a second as the two of you fall into step. “There’s nothing in the universe that can ever thank him enough for what he’s done,” the man softly admits, giving your hand an adoring squeeze that drives his words home.

Your cheeks heat up as you tuck yourself in his side. He moves easily to accommodate you, releasing your hand to wrap his arm over your shoulders instead. You move your hand to squeeze around his waist, grinning as you respond cheekily, “I don’t know, Doctor, the space vodka is pretty good...”

The man sputters at your response, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow, “I was being all cute and you’re comparing the gift of our newfound relationship to vodka?” the man questions, genuinely dumbfounded.

You give a one shouldered shrug at his side, giggling at his reaction. It wasn’t long until the man was letting out a fond sigh, thumb stroking against your collarbone, “what am I going to do with you?”

The tease in his words has you smiling. There really is nothing in the universe that seems equivalent to the gift the bartender bestowed to you, but... yeah, a bottle of space vodka was a nice start.

<><><><>

Hello again! Hopefully you liked this continuation. Not sure if it kept to the prompt exactly, I got a bit carried away writing it, but nonetheless, I hope it was good! Feel free to prompt again if it wasn’t what you were looking for, as always!

I’ll try to keep up with the prompts but idk how well I’ll be able to manage between life and the other works in other fandoms. Anyways, hope you have a great morning/day/night!

#Tenth Doctor #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #10 #10th doctor #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor x you #doctor who #doctor who 2005 #reader insert #dw #TARDIS #ten #writing prompt #writing requests #fanfiction #fanfic

124 notes · View notes

system-of-a-feather · 2 years

Note

What's your favorite little detail they show in representing OCD? What's your favorite episode?

Oof, that is a painfully difficult question for me to answer because I - having been diagnosed with Trichotillomania for 11 or 12 years and OCD for 7 or 8 years and having been in treatment since diagnosis - I still don't understand WHAT I do that is OCD other than that a lot of what I do is OCD and everyone external, professional, and within the system can see it XD I have no issue seeing it within other parts of the system, or with others, or even within Monk, but I look at myself and the whole ability to understand what the fuck OCD is and what the symptoms look like go out the window. Like I'm actually having a "flare up" (increase in symptoms due to life situations) and I barely can pinpoint what exactly is flaring up other than that it... just >is<

Though I guess it would probably be either 1) the attention to increase obsessions and compulsions correlated with stress and internal / external factors and 2) its much less of a "little" detail because its a really big persistent thing, but I very very very much appreciate the fact that they simultaneously show the serious, genuine distress that it can cause WHILE still having light hearted fun WHILE making it clear that he is ill WHILE making it clear that he can and still is an AMAZING addition to society despite it.

Some people I know probably dislike it as representation because they make "him look crazy" and all, but like... I personally think they really artfully balance the way having OCD can - with work and the right company - be a little silly and funny when you and those around you start adapting to it as well as the fact that having severe OCD (or really any mental health issue cause god Monk has a lot) doesn't mean you are worthless. They don't erase the damage having OCD does to himself and the difficulties that comes with it and socializing and working, but they also don't draw him out to just be "well now hes broken >:["

Personally, as someone who has integrated (for better or worse) a lot of my compulsions into my daily life and those close to me just know its "how I am", a lot of my more chronic issues with it have just become like, inside jokes and when its a semi-rare one or a new one its like ".... yes I know this is silly and excessive and I actually find it a bit funny BEHIND MY DISTRESS OKAY" and I get that vibe a lot through Monk which is nice XD

But really, I think while making fun and humor of the "silliness" that OCD tends to have you doing, it really does also commentate on how just like... ableist and dickheads most of society (especially back in 2002-2008) were towards the mentally ill and shit with OCD. You both see people bully, pick on, make fun of, and treat Monk like a joke, but you also see people that accept it as part of the whole Monk and accept it, and I think thats a very realistic and nice depiction of it honestly.

Favorite episode though.... I don't think I could name ONE episode that's a favorite. I'm currently on Season 4 Episode 8, so I'll only pick from the ones I've watched recently, and I think the two that stand out the most is the episode where Monk nearly adopts a kid in Season 3 because its wholesome and relatable and makes me sad; and then ONE SPECIFIC SCENE in Season 3 Episode 10 "Monk and the Red Herring".

Why only one episode of that specific scene? Well thanks for asking. Monk goes to a pet store and notices an abnormally behaving bird that is keeping it's food dishes even and proceeds to psychoanalyze and project accurate onto why the bird is acting that way and what it's situation is.

I hate and love that scene because the STOLE MY SCHTICK and also because I could probably nerd out for hours about why having a bird there specifically was an amazing addition because birds and OCD is a particularly nerdy topic of mine because I am, in fact a bird, and I do love to read about obsessive compulsive tendencies in birds and fasfakljsl

Anyways, I love and hated that scene because ME. MOOD. COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT.

-Riku (Host)

#alter: riku #ask #asks #monk #monk tv #monk tv show #ocd #actuallyocd

42 notes · View notes

ventiiology · 3 years

Text

— ✦ || home

title . windtrace characters . kaeya , diluc , venti , childe type . fluff , bullet-point headcanons

an interesting man in mondstadt is advertising for a game that represented mondstadt’s history but eventually got less played and forgotten over the years. he wanted to bring back the tradition, with more exciting edits made to the game in hopes of attracting more players. you have convinced your boyfriend to play it with you, and hell, it was a wild ride.

kaeya, upon hearing about the game from you, would already be interested

it sounded really fun, so he played it with you asap

he may or may not have skipped some duties from the knights, but in his eyes it was completely within reason

he didn’t tell you about that, of course, or else you would’ve forced him to go back to favonius headquarters and finish up whatever boring paperwork he needed to sign.

anyways..

as a hunter he would be quite experienced, as expected, since he was a knight and had to do similar activities when hunting down criminals like treasure hoarders, the abyss order, etc

you’d have to be good at hiding, otherwise the game would end very quickly

“hm? i’m surprised how you were able to outrun me the first time with your height. i don’t usually fall for the same thing twice, that’s why i was able to catch you~”

as a rebel kaeya would also be surprisingly good at the role

he’s scarily good at hiding and even with your perks as a hunter to trace wherever he is, he still made it really challenging

if you ever get too close to wherever he’s hiding or disguising he might take advantage of having a cryo vision to slip you up somehow

whether that be literal or not

although he’ll get called out for cheating later

“my, you’re freezing up. come on, don’t be salty you lost. you were pretty close to catching me, i’ll give you that.” kaeya says as be brings you into his embrace, warming you up in dragonspine’s bitter cold.

diluc would honestly not be interested at first

it would take quite some pleading, daily bugging, and perhaps a bit of bribery to get him to agree to play

tell him that he wouldn’t have to see kaeya around for the week or something

as a hunter he would spend a good 30 seconds just standing there wondering what he should do. there are a lot of places to hide, and the map was very big. also you could’ve disguised yourself as something from the area, so how could he be completely sure it’s you?

he’s really quiet so you wouldn’t hear him coming

using the hunter ability to trace where you went, he’d be somewhat indecisive on whether he should take his time or run to follow the traces

will use hunter abilities at the most inconvenient moments

for you, as the rebel, at least

like when you think he didn’t notice you and is walking away he’ll activate the hunter ability ‘insight’, which reveals your location and points you out with a pillar of light

diluc will be annoyingly good at finding you this way

“did i scare you? i— i’m sorry. i’ll try not to repeat my actions.”

as a rebel, he’d probably be more hesitant than when being a hunter

multiple times throughout the game, he will mutter to himself that he is not suited for this role

however diluc always seemed to take the longest to find... you wondered how he pulled it off every time

he’s definitely aware of this game

venti, of all people, should know about windtrace, especially its origins...

so he’s actually the one who invited you to play with him

as a hunter he’d love the thrill and challenge of finding you

he would much prefer to be a rebel, but the hunter role was still fun to play as!

he’d take his sweet, sweet time as a hunter

not sprinting all over the place will give him more time to examine places

but if he gets as much as a glimpse of action, he’ll go running towards that

“heeeey! that’s not faaaair! i declare a rematch! if i win this one, you owe me... an apple! no, five apples!”

“deal!”

as a rebel he’ll be able to find hiding spots in places you didn’t even know existed within the map

he might use a little bit of his anemo powers to let him climb up to higher places... if needed

will climb trees a lot, so when you start looking in trees, he alternates his hiding style

and he’s a speedy little shit too— so speedy you can hear him leaving sonic behind

like if you manage to get his disguise out of commission and you spot him since he’s unable to hide, he’ll literally just speed away behind something then you lose track of him

like???? what??? how does he??????

he will taunt you

one time he was disguising and you got pretty close

when your back was turned, he whispered, “missed me~” then will use the rebel skill ‘transparency’ to just disappear and sprint away since he knew that your hunter abilities’ cooldown wasn’t done yet.

“let’s play again! hold on, let me write a song about this...”

you didn’t even get to finish asking him if he wanted to play windtrace with you and he already agreed

this man is a simp

he’ll never admit that, though. he has pride.

as a hunter, the games played with childe will be so nerve-racking and intense

while he’s hunting for you, it’s like his whole aura’s changed

he seemed far more intimidating and scary than usual

“[name]~ where are you~? i can tell i’m getting close...”

why was he taking this game so seriously????????

when playing with childe, you could truly feel like you were the prey and he was the predator

he’ll give you a false sense of security. he’ll make you think that you’re safe from his watchful gaze.

you used your ‘transparency’ ability to become invisible to him

he’ll pass by and you hold your breath, nervous that if he hears a single movement, whether it be an exhale or the small brushing sound of your sleeve moving against your shirt, he’ll be able to find you

he walks away and sprints out of sight. he probably saw movement ahead and went to track that

you started to calm down and your tense shoulders relaxed. phew, he was gone.

then, you heard a whisper behind you as someone grabbed your shoulders.

“boo~”

you jump out of shock and he starts laughing at the scare he gave you

“that was not funny. i’m gonna hate you forever for that one.”

“you can’t hold it against me for that long, and you and i are both aware of it.”

as a rebel he would be annoyingly good at it too

after him scaring you as a hunter you got somewhat paranoid. who says he won’t pull off the same kind of thing as a rebel?

you swore you saw a wooden crate move so you turned around to face it but then it was gone

childe’s light on his feet and barely makes a sound

you’d get more panicked as the timer ticked closer to the end of the game. you really wanted to win this one.

according to the ‘hunter’s intuition’ skill you were able to pinpoint the place where childe was at

you sprinted closer to the beam that gave away his location

you wandered around the area, trying to find where exactly the pillar of light was pointing you to... then the light disappeared

you saw a hay roll near a house which definitely wasn’t there last time you checked, so you took your chance

you were 5 metres away from it when you felt a certain someone pull you into a hug from the back.

at the same time, your timer rang, signifying the end of the match.

how does childe keep sneaking up behind you?

“hah, was it really that hard to find me, love?”

“HOW DID YOU DO THAT?”

“i’m just a natural at it, i guess. haha, don’t worry~ with enough practise, you might surpass my skill level!”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x you #zhongli x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #venti x reader #childe x reader

240 notes · View notes