#in general they barely get a lot of love and it's quite sad :<
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Make a Home Out of Hurt
Rating: General
CW: Death of a Grandparent, Mourning
Tags: Post-Season 4, Post Canon, Grief/Mourning, Established Relationship, Alternate Universe — Future Fic, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Sad Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Absent Parents, Steve Harrington Mom is Okay, Steve Harrington's Dad is an Asshole, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Moving in Together
Had an evil little thought. Also, all these Fenton bunnies I mention are real! My nana collects Fenton. (She's alive, don't worry, but I thought about her the other day and it spiraled into this.)
🏡—————🏡
We’ve already seen this neighborhood, Eddie thinks, but won’t say.
Even though they have. They’ve driven by the same three houses. Yellow, pastel pink, and navy blue. White door, white door, brown door. Bushes and bushes and a bushel of red roses. One garage, no garage, no garage but large driveway. He’s seen them. Over and over and over.
And each time they pass the last one, the leather of the steering wheel squeaks. And each time, Steve makes a muffled sort of noise. And each time, Eddie wonders if resting his hand on Steve’s shaking shoulders would anger him or mellow him. And each time, the car gets just a little slower as Steve loses his control more and more.
We’ve already seen this neighborhood, Eddie continues to think, but knows he’ll sit here with those words. He’ll sit in the passenger seat. Window cranked as far down as it’ll go—half-way since Dustin busted the actual mechanism. Beemer’s been through a lot, so it’ll be here for Steve’s end all breakdown, too. With the radio volume low, playing the same double-sided tape on repeat, flipped by Eddie because Steve’s hands have been shaking: The World We Knew by Frank Sinatra. Because it was her favorite. Nana’s favorite. Nana Harrington’s favorite.
On the fifth drive through, Steve finally parks the car. At the end of the long, slow winding driveway. He looks out the windshield, hollowed and not quite here. With limp hands in his lap. Messy, greasy hair he couldn’t bother to style. Eye bags so heavy, Eddie barely believes he can hold them on his face.
Eddie can follow his line of sight. To the edge of the white picket fence, worn down a little with age, scratched up from the curled nails of an old brown dog, carved with her son and daughter-in-law’s initials, and eventually stained with yellow handprints from baby Steve. Yellow because, as Steve has echoed, “Lello, Nana. Lello like your dress. Your favorite!” Well, Steve’s favorite too, he just won’t acknowledge it’s because of his nana. Eddie knows that the paint has faded a bit since then, given that it’s been fifteen years since Steve’s had hands that small, but Eddie can see him. In his little white and red striped t-shirt, hidden by a pair of nicely pressed denim overalls, white sneakers, and his mom’s bobby pins in his hair—something she did because it just wouldn’t stop growing so fast and thick. Or so Eddie’s been told.
He’s been told a lot in the last week. Since the call came through the landline of their apartment. Since Steve had gone silent and collapsed to his knees and wailed, screamed even. Since he dressed himself in a suit that fit well, but looked out of place on his curled in body. Since…since the obituary was finally in his hands at the funeral, and he got so sick in the church’s restroom, Eddie had to drive them home in a daze—a quarter worried, a quarter tired, and half hanging by a thread. He thinks he’s heard everything, but what is love if not more than everything? If not all the words in every language, all known objects and unknown, every species and race and sexuality and identities combined?
He’ll hear everything. Until their old and grey and forgetting everything.
“There used to be a tire swing on that tree,” Steve states flatly, pointing at the weeping oak in his nana’s front yard. It’s crooked like it’s been kissed by the wind. A lot withering because the weather’s been harsh on her. Grey against the navy blue of the house’s siding.
I know, sweetheart, Eddie wants to say, so soft it gets lost between them. Instead, “Yeah? Bet it was a good tire, too,” he coaxes, still soft, all sweet. Even if he’s heard it each time they’ve passed by.
Steve nods once in his peripheral. Sniffs. “Yeah,” he states wetly, “one of the expensive ones. She didn’t want it to pop under me. Didn’t…She didn’t want me to stop using it.” His head dips down, looking at his fingers, where they’ve begun to absently trace the seams of his jeans. “I stopped,” he whispers shamefully. “You think she got mad because I stopped?”
“No, baby,” Eddie answers honestly. “I think that she was happy you used it at all. Think she was always just happy to see you, Steve.”
A sharp intake of breath next to him. “I used to come over here when my parents were gone. Or when they’d scream at each other. Or when…when they’d forget I existed,” he relays, quiet as a mouse. “When they’d forget, Nana would open the door and kiss my cheek and make me something to eat. I was always too skinny. So she made me casseroles,” he explains, a wisp of a smile. Gone in the blink of an eye. “She’ll never make ‘em again, though. She won’t—”
“Steve,” Eddie calls gently, a small warning. A siren before the tsunami.
“—Love me again,” Steve sobs, “Nana won’t love me again.”
“Oh, baby,” he breathes. Eddie steps out of the car, rounds over to the driver’s side, and yanks the door open. Carefully, he unbuckles Steve, scoots him so that his legs dangle over the side, and pulls him down into a gentle hug. “Baby,” he coos. “Just get it out, honey. I’m right here. We’re right here. I’ve got you.”
And Steve cries. Again; though Eddie’s lost count. He squirms against Eddie’s chest. Head nestled to his neck. Crying big sounds that sound too large, even for his adult body. Sounds that carry boats, that poison with oil spills, that home orcas. He slobbers onto Eddie’s skin, grand globs of hot spit that gargle in his throat before launching from his mouth. His unshaved stubble scratching at the side of Eddie’s face—where his skin is sensitive and smooth and will most definitely be raw with Steve’s aching.
He sobs until there’s no more tears. Until he’s a whimpering, shivering mess on Eddie’s chest. Bunched up and small and fisting Eddie’s t-shirt like a lifeline. Squeezing the fabric in his hands like two lemons.
Eddie runs his hands up and down Steve’s spine. From the small of his back to his hunched shoulders, squishing him. He sways them ever so gently like the rustle of the old oak tree. Hums something incoherent and unrecognizable. If only to get Steve to stop shaking.
“Eds?”
“Hm?”
He takes a long, slow breath. Breathes out, “Why’d she give me the house?”
Eddie pulls them apart. One hand on the middle of Steve’s back, the other cupping his left cheek. Swiping at the tacky tracks from his tears. “I’m not sure, baby. Maybe she loved you so much that she wanted you to have it? To always be safe there?”
“Shouldn’t she have given it to my dad? I don’t…” Steve’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion, his mouth frowning. “I don’t deserve her house?”
“Sweetheart,” Eddie sighs. “She chose you for a reason. You, Stevie. Not anybody else. Just you. If she wanted to give it to her son, she would’ve. But she didn’t. She thought of you, put you in the will, and now it’s yours.” When Steve doesn’t respond, Eddie gives him his moment of silence. Running his palm up to Steve’s shoulders. Pressing his thumb into his supple skin. “You may never know her intent, but she probably had a reason. It was a home you came running to, where you felt safest, where you felt…loved. Grandmothers always have this air to them, like they just know things about you before you say ‘em. Maybe she just knew you needed her and her space before you even realized.”
Steve sniffles. His eyes are still wet. Bloodshot and tired. Rumpled all the way around, exhausted and quiet. “She used to play with me in the yard.”
I know, Eddie thinks once more. He goes with the topic change though, if that’s what Steve needs.
“And when we played hide and seek, she always made sure to look until I was found. Because she didn’t want me to feel forgotten, her words.” Steve’s fingers are fidgeting with one another again. Picking at his fingernails, peeling at hangnails. Eddie moves down and takes them, rubbing soothing circles into their backs, just so Steve doesn’t harm himself on top of everything. Steve continues, hushed, “When I’d stay the night, she would sleep with me. Hold me close to her. Scratch my back and scalp and tell me stories…all the way until I fell asleep.”
“Kinda like I do, huh?” Eddie asks.
Steve nods. “Yeah,” he croaks. “Think that’s why I feel so loved and safe with you.”
And Eddie hasn’t cried, not really, not yet. But this may be it. Because he knows, beyond everything, that Nana was special to Steve—so special that just one negative comment, one complaint, one little fuss about her was enough to get you shunned by him. He’s seen it play out with Dustin, he’d been banned from coming over for two weeks. And with El, who didn’t understand quite yet, but had lost conversational abilities with Steve for two whole days—ergo, the Silent Treatment.
This means something. It means everything. Eddie kind of wants to cry about it.
But he reigns himself in for now. Because Steve needs him like water. For somebody to just be there and be present and be patient. Through it all.
“You wanna head inside,” Eddie offers, “I’ve got the key in my pocket.” He gestures loosely to the inside of his vest, the safest pocket near his heart. When Steve nods, Eddie leads them inside silently. Opens the door first, per request made by Steve days prior. Sets his shoes by the front door—not told to, but just out of respect. Hangs up his jacket, his vest. Takes Steve’s jacket, too. Unties his Nike sneakers. Smacks a quick kiss to his cheek. And then he waits by the front door for Steve to say or do something.
The first thing he does is gasp. Eyes roaming the hallway, the living room, and the fireplace that connects the kitchen and living space together. He takes a few tentative steps before stopping in front of a tall, full China cabinet.
“Her Fenton bunnies,” Steve breathes.
Eddie slowly approaches behind him. Wraps an arm around his waist, tugging him into his side a little. “Are these the ones your mom was talking about on the phone?”
“Yeah. I just…Didn’t think my mom was telling the truth,” Steve murmurs. “She told me Dad didn’t want these. Takes up room or whatever. But they’re so pretty here, how could you not want these?” His left hand reaches for the knob of the cabinet. Twisting it gently as to not rattle the glass shelves. With the doors swung open, the bunnies under the cabinet’s lighting are free to touch. And so Steve picks one up, carefully in his hands like it’s alive. Maybe it is, Eddie thinks for a moment, alive with her spirit.
He breathes silently by Steve as he investigates the glass item in his hand. Running his thumbs over the ears. Down the smooth back.
“Satin glass,” Steve states, “It’s like touching the fabric, which is so weird. Nana used to talk about it all the time, but I never believed her. She never let me touch. You wanna?” He holds the bunny up to Eddie’s face. In offering, for him to pet. So he runs a slow thumb down its back. And sure enough, soft as silk, cold to the touch. “All of them are here.” He replaces the silk, purple bunny on the shelf. Picking up a chromatic shifting one next. “Carnival glass,” Steve explains, “it’s heavier than the other one, feels like. But so shiny. Think Nana used to say it was amethyst or something, but that might be what the color shift is called?”
“You sure listened to her well,” Eddie murmurs, “know a lot about this.”
Steve chuckles, a little choked to Eddie’s ears but he makes no comment. “Yeah, I guess I did. Mom used to say that I had selective hearing. That I listened when it was something I cared about.”
“And you cared a lot about Nana,” Eddie concludes.
“Yeah,” Steve whispers, “cared a lot about Nana.” He sets the carnival glass bunny back on the shelf. Standing idle in front of it all, taking it all in. “She has one upstairs, in a different glass cabinet. It glows green under the special blacklight upstairs. Said it was radioactive.” He chuckles again. “I gave her that one. As a gift for Mother’s Day in…I think ’77? Mom helped me pick it out—she was nice about the bunnies, about finding this stuff. She loved Nana, too. And she…” He laughs low in his chest and Eddie blossoms a little at the sound, unheard in so long. “Mom would pull out the long box of tissue paper and gift bags from the crawlspace. She’d unfold the prettiest gift bag—this one was a little brown one, covered in peach colored peonies. Stuffed some off-white tissue paper in that one. Wrapped the little yellow—well, it was supposed to be yellow—Fenton bunny in bubble wrap, covered it up with a bunch of caramels. Gave it to Nana, and she squealed! Apparently, she already knew it was radioactive? Thought it was the best gift ever. Which, ouch Nana, I gave you other bunnies for Mother’s Day, c’mon.”
Eddie snorts. “Maybe that’s what earned you the house? That radioactive bunny was probably the key to her heart,” he jokes. Though his stomach turns at the possibility it wasn’t appropriate to make.
Steve laughs loudly, though. Shaking his entire body with it. He slips his hand into Eddie’s back right pocket, sighs, and leans against him relaxed. “Dad should’a tried harder if he wanted Nana’s heart,” he comments, “all it took was a damn bunny.”
“Among other things, I’m sure.”
“Probably,” Steve sighs. “I think she was just excited to have a grandkid. She had a weird relationship with my dad. They didn’t get along very well. So maybe she was sorta…trying again?”
“Stevie, I think she just loved you. There doesn’t have to be some grand, deep meaning behind it. I think she just loved your company. How your laugh fills a room and your smile is seen from across the yard. And how you’re always polite, despite having reasons to not be. Maybe because of your terrible puns and how awful you are at quoting Shakespeare? You charm everybody, Steve,” Eddie monologues. “There’s not a reason to not love you.”
For a moment, the room falls completely silent. Distantly, there’s the slow tick of a wall clock. A few birds singing out in the backyard, where the bird bath probably is—only known through Steve’s memories. A slight hum from the radiator. The cars passing by on the main road just around the corner. Hawkins is quiet when there’s mourning; maybe it’s felt through the whole town, through the soles of Steve’s socked feet, from the beating of his ever love absorbent heart.
She died November 7th, 1993. Just a few days ago. Maybe it’s the anniversary of Will Byers going missing that Hawkins is feeling. Maybe it’s just tragedy. It’s love persevering—even in the most dire of situations. Where Joyce Byers was screaming about where her son may be, all those mismatched theories, and the ways in which the town thought she was crazy—even when they believed her and cried over her son’s body being pulled from the water. Where Will is actually thriving now. Where Sandra Harrington no longer is, though she was a fixture in several communities and families, Steve’s own being included.
“How’s your boy doing?” Wayne asked the day after her funeral. Eddie had shrugged, admitting he wasn’t sure because Steve had gone terribly quiet and sick. “Tell him I’m sorry. That he has a home with us. That he can come over and cry and I’ll make him hot cocoa. Alright, Ed?”
God, even Wayne knew. And there was silence after his condolences.
There is so much silence.
Until, finally, Steve asks, “Will you live with me here?”
“Wh—What?” Because surely he didn’t hear that right.
“Live with me here,” Steve repeats, a little more urgent. “I don’t think I can handle this place alone. And…I know how to use her gas stove. I can make you the spaghetti dish she used to make. And the casseroles she used to bake. We can open up her recipe box and I’ll teach you how to make her apple pie—the one she gave me for your birthday two years ago?
“And we can read your Lord of The Rings books on the porch on the bench she has out there? Grill in the backyard when we have everybody over. Robin can have the room that used to be my nursery. We can…We can live our lives here.”
Stunned, Eddie gapes momentarily. Before gripping harder at Steve’s waist, drawing him closer even when there’s no more room. Two solid bodies connected from shoulder to foot. “Are you sure, Steve? You don’t wanna—“
“You’re my family, Eds. I have loved you since that bullshit in ’86. We have seen each other through our absolute worst. Of course I’m sure. Of course I want you here,” Steve swears. “I know what I’m getting into. Even if it hurts to look around here right now. But you’ve been here by me through one of the worst heartbreaks I’ve ever experienced. I want you here—preferably always.”
“Stevie,” Eddie breathes. He reaches out with his free hand and cups the right side of Steve’s face. Swipes over his glistening cheekbone. Under his shadow beaten eye. The tickling brush of Steve’s bottom eyelashes on the tip of his thumb. And he kisses him tenderly, with every word he could ever imagine to say, all emotion he could ever feel, with an intensity seen in atomic bombs. He pulls back to see Steve’s eyes closed. Flushed and bright in the cabinet’s full white lighting, doors still open, and fragile glass bunnies as witnesses. Promises, “I want to, Steve. I want to be here with you. Through it. All of it. As long as I get to love you.”
And on his thumb there are fresh tears, gone cold but skin scalding. Steve’s lips trembling with silent cries. His eyelashes fluttering. Him and him and him. Beautiful and raw and open. Gentle like flowers and strong like wind. Aching and romantic and with a heart the size of the universe itself. Because Steve Harrington is everything—
Or so his nana has said. But Steve doesn’t know. And that’s Eddie’s own secret.
“Okay,” Steve mutters, “make a home with me, Ed.”
🏡—————🏡
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only awesome people like kahuna
if you don't like kahuna, you're not awesome
#flipline studios#papa louie#flipline#yea i headcanon him as a trans man :>#i should draw more plus sized characters#in general they barely get a lot of love and it's quite sad :<#requests will come soon btw!
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all that i did to try to undo it
engen!reader... platonic ingrid & reader + platonic mapi & reader
r lives with her sister, but their relationship is rather rocky. can they fix it before it's broken beyond repair?
angst. pretty much just angst. r is not mentally well. proceed with caution.
–-----
Moving from Norway to Spain wasn’t your idea. It seemed that your parents had had quite enough of you. You knew you could have been better behaved, but you hadn’t realized they were so frustrated that they were willing to send you away. Not until it was too late.
It was your friends, back in Norway, that were the issue. They were why you snuck out and drank and cut school and generally broke all the rules that had been set for you. And this was why, when you arrived in Spain, it all… stopped. Mostly because you barely spoke Spanish and had no friends. Also because Ingrid had adopted a rather tough love attitude with you. She was strict and cold and you knew that she wouldn’t tolerate any missteps. And honestly, you didn’t know where you’d go if Ingrid decided she didn’t want you around anymore. Not that you were sure she really did in the first place; you were pretty convinced that she was doing this as a favor to your parents. She didn’t want you here, and you weren’t going to push her to do something about that.
Unbeknownst to you, Ingrid did want you there. It had been her idea for you to come to Spain in the first place. Your parents were at a loss with what to do with you, and Ingrid was tired of hearing how frustrated they were with you when she knew you were just trying to get their attention. She decided she could probably do a better job, simply by just paying attention. And so she did. She moved you in, she got on your ass about your responsibilities and your future, and you hadn’t yet put a toe out of line. Your sister was determined that you assimilate, thinking it would make it easier for you, so she only allowed you to speak Spanish in the home. She had Mapi read over your essays, and help with your grammar. She drove you to school everyday, and made you all eat dinner together as a family every night. It seemed to be working. You were quiet, but behaved. Ingrid was pretty convinced she’d done a good job, and solved the issue. You were a teen, and she figured you didn’t need her trying to hangout with you all the time.
So, while Ingrid paid attention to your school, she didn’t pay much attention to you. She didn’t know you didn’t have any friends at your school, or that a lot of the kids were pretty cruel to you. She didn’t know school had turned into an entire nightmare, and that you had to push through an insane amount of anxiety just to walk through the front doors every morning. She didn’t know that you were behaving because you were scared of her kicking you out. She didn’t know you were desperately sad and homesick, not even allowed to speak your language in your own home with her. She didn’t know that all you wanted some days was for her to just pull you into a hug, and tell you she was proud of you. That she loved you.
Why would she? Your parents clearly didn’t. Ingrid had no reason to either.
Mapi had some reservations about the way Ingrid was with you. It was a complete 180 from the Norwegian’s normal demeanor. Ingrid was smiley and warm and silly with the younger girls on the team, and stern and harsh with you. Mapi noticed the way you watched your sister with her teammates, face full of jealousy. As time went on, though, and you didn’t cause trouble, Ingrid became more and more sure that her approach was the right one. Mapi still wasn’t as convinced. She wasn’t quite sure it was her place to say anything, though, so she kept a watchful eye on everything, and made sure to make you feel like their home was yours too.
You didn’t quite know what to make of Mapi, honestly. She was clearly infatuated with your sister. And she was always so kind to you. Mapi made you coffee every morning, made sure to buy all your favorite foods at the store, and she reminded you, repeatedly, that if you ever wanted to talk, about anything, she was around. But Mapi was Ingrid’s. Not yours. If Ingrid was so reluctant to show you any affection, you shouldn’t seek it out from her girlfriend.
You were quietly miserable. Ingrid thought you were okay, finally mellowing out. Mapi was caught somewhere in the middle, seeing both the side of yourself you hid from your sister, and the neutral façade you put on in front of her.
For you, things couldn’t get much worse. Or at least, you didn’t think so.
------
It had been a while since you’d gotten in a fight. You’d forgotten how good it felt to punch someone in the face who very much had it coming.
It was your birthday. You would have forgotten, too, if a few of your old friends hadn’t texted you. Ingrid had forgotten. You’d woken up to her knocking on your door like she always did. She was focused on the important training session ahead, and barely spoke to you on the way to school. She’d forgotten your birthday, and you thought that it hadn’t bothered you. Until the idiotic group of boys was following you down the hallway, saying awful things. Until you’d snapped back at them in a way you never did, and until they began throwing punches. And you didn’t run. You turned and you fought and you let your anger and your hurt out for the first time in months. For the first time since you left Norway.
There was an odd sense of calm that washed over you, waiting in the dean’s office for your sister to arrive. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, in that moment, what she would think. Your hands hurt, your face hurt, and you’d finally stood up for yourself to the awful boys that wouldn’t leave you alone.
When Ingrid walked into the office, though, an absolutely livid expression on her face, you realized you did care. Very much. You had been waiting on the dean, and although he was a scary man, you would have rather faced him at that moment.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Ingrid hissed, grabbing your face in her hands and inspecting your wounds.
“Ing,”
“Do not. I cannot believe you. I don’t want to hear your excuses or your explanations. You are going to apologize to the dean, take your punishment, and we are going to go home. I’ll deal with you there. Understand?”
You lowered your head, nodding. She took the seat on your other side, still visibly angry, though she softened for just a second as she looked closely at your hand.
“Is anything broken?” She asked quietly. Your eyes flooded with tears at the question, everything inside of you screaming to lean into her arms. She was angry, you thought. She was angry, and she wouldn’t want to hug you right now.
“I don’t think so.” You mumbled instead.
“Good. María will patch you up when we get home.” Her tone was cold again, and you began to zone out. The dean walked in, spewing a long lecture. He didn’t tell Ingrid that you hadn’t swung first, or that the boys had been bothering you for weeks. He didn’t tell Ingrid what they called you, or that it was three 18 year old boys against an 18 year old girl. He just said that the school didn’t tolerate fighting, and that you would be suspended for a week.
The worst part was that Ingrid didn’t even ask what happened. Not in the office, not in the car, not when you both got home. You used to get into fights all the time, back in Norway. She thought this was more of the same from you. Your sister stormed off to call your mom the minute you were in the house, leaving you standing in the entry hall in front of Mapi, eyes fixed on the ground.
Mapi’s hand was gentle when it rested on your back, gently guiding you up the stairs and into the couple’s bathroom. She sat you on the counter like you were a little kid, and pulled out the first aid kit. Only then did you raise your head and look at her. You thought she would be mad, but she only looked concerned.
“She hates me.” You said it before you could stop yourself, and your voice shook over every syllable. Mapi’s face melted, and she shook her head insistently, carefully wiping a tear off your face.
“No, nena. She’s upset, but she loves you very much.” Mapi seemed convinced. She loved your sister, after all. And though you didn’t know it, Mapi had been a witness to your sister worrying over you for 2 years now.
There was no use arguing, so you stopped talking again, and Mapi got back to cleaning your face up. She asked you a couple questions in English about things that hurt and didn’t hurt, and you responded in English. Mapi had moved on to cleaning the cuts on your knuckles when Ingrid appeared.
“Can you bend your fingers?” Mapi asked.
“Yeah, it’s a little sore, but I can bend them.” You replied.
“Español.” Ingrid scolded. You nodded, correcting yourself quickly, now trying to stifle the flow of tears flowing from your eyes.
“How are you feeling?” Ingrid asked, stepping in closer to study you closely.
“Okay. Hurts a bit but I’m fine.” You said softly.
“Do you promise it just hurts a bit?” Ingrid asked.
“Yes.” It wasn’t a lie. Your body didn’t hurt that bad. You hurt though. Every inch of you ached with a deep sadness, a deep loneliness. But that wasn’t what Ingrid had asked.
“We have a dinner tonight, a team dinner. Will you be okay here if we go?”
A little bit of you shattered, then. Maybe you’d been hoping that Ingrid had remembered your birthday, had been planning a fun dinner or something. Clearly not.
“Yeah. I’ll get a head start on my homework.” You managed, biting down hard on your lip to stop yourself from crying. Ingrid nodded, satisfied, but Mapi didn’t look away from you.
“Are you sure? You look a bit upset, nena. We can stay if you need us.”
You shook your head harshly. “No, I’m fine. Promise.”
You were very far from fine. You needed to be alone, though, if you were going to feel every complicated emotion raging through you.
------
“Ingrid,” Mapi said suddenly, about halfway into their drive to the restaurant. Ingrid hummed in response, looking over at her girlfriend from the passenger seat. “Your sister said something today. And it seemed like she really, really believed it. I think you need to be a little easier on her, amor. She’s just a kid.”
“What did she say?” Ingrid wondered, head stuck on that comment.
Mapi hesitated, well aware of how hard this might hit Ingrid. “She said you hated her. She was pretty convinced, Ingrid. How mad were you at the school?”
Ingrid sighed roughly, running an exhausted hand over her face. “Fuck. She’s always been dramatic, I forget that she’s just… sensitive sometimes. I was pretty harsh.” She admitted.
“Amor, I know you think this strict approach is working, but I don’t know. She seems so sad sometimes. She’s just a kid, and she’s doing her best. I think she needs you to be a bit… softer with her.” Mapi suggested, finally voicing the thoughts that had been plaguing her for weeks, if not months.
Ingrid was quiet for a while. “Maybe. I don’t know, I thought it was working, but then today happened. I don’t know what to do.”
“Why don’t you just… talk to her? What was the fight even about?” Mapi asked.
Ingrid didn’t respond, her frustration with herself quickly replacing her frustration with you.
“You didn’t ask?” Mapi sighed.
“No, but the dean didn’t say either.” Ingrid defended halfheartedly.
“That probably isn’t a good thing mi amor. We’ll talk to her when we get home. Figure out what’s going on.” Mapi declared.
“We?” Ingrid asked quietly, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“We.” Mapi affirmed, looking cautiously at her girlfriend. “Is that okay?”
“More than okay.” Ingrid assured her. “I think she might need both of us.”
It was clearer, now, to Ingrid. Suddenly, and very painfully. That she’d gone about this wrong. The extent of the damage that had been done was not yet to be realized, though.
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The silence that echoed through the house was what got you. Today, on your 18th birthday, you sat alone at the kitchen table, tears falling freely from your eyes. They stung the cuts in on your face, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. It felt like wherever you went, you messed up. Wherever you went, you weren’t wanted. When you’d come to Norway, you’d had hope that maybe things would be different. Maybe Ingrid would treat you differently than your parents. She had, but you still didn’t feel loved. It felt like there was something fundamentally wrong with you that drove everyone away. You just wanted to make it better, and yet, at the same time, you felt so incredibly hopeless. Like there was nothing in the world you could do to make your family love you. You supposed it was your fault; you’d been acting out for years. Everyone was bound to get tired of you. You didn’t want to be like that, you just didn’t know what else to do. The age gap to your siblings was huge, your parents were tired of being parents, and no one had any time for you. Or the desire to make time. You’d done the only thing you could think of at the time to get their attention, and it had only made things worse. You had only made things worse.
And still, a part of you was angry. Furious. Did you have to be perfect? Did you have to make no mistakes? Shouldn’t they love you regardless of all that? There was no consistency in your brain; sometimes it all felt like your fault, and other times it felt like there wasn’t anything you could do right.
You felt the inexplicable urge to apologize. Really apologize, really explain. Maybe they could forgive you. Maybe Ingrid could forgive you, maybe you could get her to understand. You didn’t think you could make it through an entire apology, though, not verbally, not face to face with your intense sister. So you got out a piece of paper, and began writing.
Ingrid,
I’m sorry. I’m sorry you got stuck with me, and I’m sorry I haven’t been good enough. I’ve tried, I promise I have. Sometimes I feel like it isn’t possible for me to meet your standards, but I still try.
I’m sorry about the fight today. They came at me, I swear. These three boys have been bothering me since I've arrived, and they say horrible things to me, and I just snapped. I should have just kept quiet, and they never would have started the fight, and I’m sorry I didn’t do that.
I’m sorry I’m always home and bothering you and Mapi. I’m sorry I haven’t made any friends here, and I’m sorry my spanish isn’t perfect. I’m sorry I'm so miserable. I don’t know why I can’t just be happy, but I can’t. I want to be. I really do. It just feels like you’re always mad at me. I feel like such an awful person no matter what I do. Mom and Dad didn’t want me. And I don’t think you want me. I don’t think I want me either, sometimes.
I’m trying to like it here, but it’s so different. I miss Mom and Dad, even though I know they don’t miss me. I miss my home and I miss Norway. I miss my friends. I didn’t really feel like I belonged there, but at least it was familiar.
I think I’m mad at you, too. You’re my sister, Ingrid. Do you always have to be so harsh with me? I think I’d be happier, if you seemed happier that I was here.
You forgot my birthday. Mom and Dad didn’t remember either. I turned 18 today. I turned 18 today, and you and Mapi went to dinner without me. I made a sandwich and ate it by myself in the kitchen. I’ve never felt so worthless. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this. I just want you all to love me again. I want to love myself again. I think I’d do anything, to feel like I have a family again.
I’m so desperate I’m writing you this absurd letter that I’ll probably never give you. I don’t know if I can give it to you. I’m scared to give it to you, and I’m scared not to.
I’m scared because sometimes I think everyone would be better off without me. I’m scared because it feels like no one would even notice if I was gone. It feels so easy. Everyday it feels like it would be easier.
I guess I’m asking for help, Ingrid. I don’t want to ask you to fix this for me, but I don’t think I can do it myself. I want to be better, I want to
Your writing cut off abruptly, as the front door opened. All you felt was panic. You were a mess, sobbing uncontrollably on the couch with the letter almost completed in front of you. They weren’t supposed to be home yet. The event was supposed to be a long one, and you’d planned on leaving the letter, if you were brave enough, on the kitchen table, and going to bed. Handing it to your sister face to face had never been the plan. You weren’t even sure it made any sense, and you weren’t sure you wanted to give it to her.
The front door swung open anyway, and Mapi walked into the house. You remembered, then, that she was always coming home early. She had a follow up appointment for her knee the following morning, and she hadn’t wanted to be out late. Alexia had driven her home early, not wanting a late night herself. Ingrid was still at the dinner, but Mapi was here. Standing frozen in the entryway, with a perfect view of the disaster you were on the couch. You were frozen, and she was frozen, but then she was moving, moving closer to you, and you couldn’t you couldn’t you couldn’t.
“Pequeña, what is it? What hurts?” Mapi asked urgently, moving to sit next to you on the couch. She thought you must be hurt, physically. The thought that the agony on your face could be from anything else didn't even enter her brain.
She sat next to you, and you were still frozen, not even able to move the piece of paper out of sight.
Mapi saw it. You were using one of your textbooks as a surface, not unlike how you did your homework. Your favorite pen was in your hand. And resting in your lap, on the textbook, was a piece of paper that somehow radiated pain. Mapi was reaching for it before she even knew what she was doing, and you were still frozen. Frozen, staring at Mapi like you were afraid of her. Very suddenly, Mapi was terrified.
“Nena, what is this?” She asked softly. It was to Ingrid. Written in Spanish. Mapi saw her name in it a few places as she scanned it over, before she looked back up at you. “Nena?” she prompted again.
This time, you did move. You jolted forward, reaching for the letter, a deep gasping breath escaping your mouth. Mapi held it out of your grasp, her eyes stuck on one sentence, the only sentence that she’d read so far. It had jumped out at her.
“I’m scared because sometimes I think everyone would be better off without me.”
An instantly, Mapi knew she couldn’t let you take the piece of paper back. She knew she needed to call Ingrid and tell her to come home. She knew she couldn’t let you out of her sight. You were so fragile, though, sitting in front of her like you were second away from shattering into a million pieces. Too many pieces for anyone to ever be able to fix.
“Nena, I think I need to read this.” She whispered, watching carefully as you pulled your hand back towards your body, as you curled in on yourself, and began to shake with silent sobs.
And then Mapi read the letter. With one hand on your back, and one hand tightly clutching the paper, she read the most painful thing she’d ever laid her eyes on. It tore her apart, reading how you felt.
And it wasn’t meant for her. It was meant for Ingrid. And, ridiculously, Mapi wished she could fix it before Ingrid ever read what you’d written. Mapi would have done anything in that moment, to make things right with you, and to make sure Ingrid never had to know how badly she had hurt you. Because realizing it would hurt the Norwegian just as much.
Mapi ached to tell you so many things. That Ingrid loved you so much, she just wasn’t sure how to help you. That she thought what she was doing was working, helping. That she was sure Ingrid didn’t know the date, or she’d have never forgotten your birthday. That she knew Ingrid would do anything, anything in the world, to fix this. That Mapi was sure both she and Ingrid would go back in time if they could, and fix everything that had gone wrong.
She couldn’t force that all on you now. She couldn’t defend Ingrid, or herself.
Instead, she placed the letter carefully on the table, and sent Ingrid a very brief text.
“You need to come home now. Everything is fine, everyone is safe, but you need to come home.”
Instead, Mapi pulled you into her lap, and held you so tight it almost hurt.
Instead, your sister’s girlfriend, who owed you absolutely nothing, told you, over and over, how very loved you were. How proud she was of you. How her and Ingrid were going to fix everything if it killed them.
They’d fix everything before it killed you.
------
🙂
#woso x reader#woso imagine#engen!reader#ingrid engen x mapí leon#ingrid engen x reader#mapi leon x reader#platonic reader
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hi! I've honestly been craving some qpr headcanons with Alastor as someone who's also aroace! The concept piques my curiosity so much considering most of the stuff with him is purely romantic (no offense to those writers, I just wanna see more qpr stuff! :])
Of course! But do forgive me, annon, I got so carried away with this 😅. I just really like Alastor a lot.
I ended up writing some backstory to your relationship first, but I highlighted the start of the proper qpr headcanons if you feel like skipping that.
Obligatory I'm sorry if this is ooc, I'm still getting used to writing about these characters. This is also all based on my own perception of him.
(Also, I am aware that qprs are very different from one another and there is no single mold for a qpr, I'm just going off of what I think it would be like with Alastor.)
Uhh, I also finished this at 1 AM, so forgive any mistakes. And I'm pretty sure I changed the verb conjugations(? Is this how you say that in English?) from present to past at some point. Sorry. Enough with the A/Ns now. Hope you enjoy!
Alastor queerplatonic relationship headcanons
(gender neutral reader, Alastor x reader)
‼️Trigger-warning‼️: mentions of cannibalism (not graphic), a single mention of tongue-kissing and making out (spoiler: he doesn't want either of those things in this work.) Usage of the word queer, but not as a slur. Alastor is a grandpa and you have to explain LGBTQ+ stuff to him, but he gets it.
› At first, before you were close, it's likely that he didn't see you as an equal.
› Truly, in his eyes, it seems not really is his equal. He is the most powerful overlord in hell and he knows it.
› Unless you are someone he holds in high regard (and this is mostly based on vibes, barely anything to do with power, as we can see by how he is with Lucifer of all people) before your first meeting, like Zestial, you won't be on equal footing at first.
› You only really start getting close when his perception of you shifts.
› You respect his boundaries, you are interesting, you and him share quite a few interests (or not really, but you're at least interested in hearing about his), and you're, surprisingly, pretty wise and mature.
› And caring. I personally believe he would be drawn to that in a way that he may not even understand fully- or realize it at all.
› Still, the point is. He respects you, and you respect him.
› (And not in the way some others do, where they're only "respectful" out of fear. You would act like this regardless of his power.)
› This, by the way, is important. You don't treat him like a superior, but as an equal.
› You'd think someone like him would love to be treated like a superior, and it's true. He very much does.
› But he has to admit to himself that it does feel nice whenever someone isn't shaking in their boots and can hold really good conversations with him while still not being pushy, annoying or just generally disrespectful.
› Anyways.
› Ever since you became friends (which took long), one could say, you just kept becoming closer and closer.
› You were the first one to be vulnerable with him, of course. It happened on accident, but you trusted him enough for that.
› You were also the first one to share any more intimate information with him. Something you wouldn't tell just anyone.
› Between this, your conversations, and maybe even helping each other around (honestly, he probably helps you more than you do him, but you always offer it and always in a sweet way, never condescending, and he appreciates that.)
› He eventually felt more comfortable sharing personal things with you too.
› (He may have distanced himself a bit when he realized this, but it was short-lived. You can't be without each other for so long, and you were pretty upset at his suddenly withdrawal. You may not have mentioned it to him, but he could tell, and as much as he hated to admit it, it hurt him to see you sad because of him.)
› This marks the beginning of the path toward your queerplatonic relationship.
› I mean, you didn't initially label it as such, but it definitely started there.
› Surprisingly, I feel like the first one to ever do any sort of affectionate gesture towards the other was him.
› You knew he didn't like to be touched, so you didn't.
› But! He just started getting more and more comfortable with touching you. At first it was hands on your shoulders, or putting his arm over them.
› I can even see a head pat or two, which he probably passed off as some sort of joke the first few times, but, if you liked them so much, just became a thing he does to you.
› And then one day you, completely absent-mindedly, intertwined your arm with his while walking around.
› When you noticed you had done it and he hadn't said anything, you questioned him about it.
› "Alastor, I'm sorry I didn't ask... is this alright?"
› "This?... Oh, you mean the arms? Ah, dear, don't worry, if it weren't I would have simply told you so!"
› From them on you only got more and more physically affectionate with each other. At first you would usually be the one to start it, but eventually you were both shockingly equal in doing so.
› (You still would always ask if you could touch him beforehand, but after a while he just gave you a free-pass.)
› Not a lot in public, though. Mostly just hand holding, or intertwining arms (if in public, that is.)
› Alastor also was so protective of you. You were the person he treasured most, after all.
› Well, demon.
› Even if you told him you were going to be okay, he would watch out nonetheless. He couldn't afford to lose you, not when he's never trusted and cared for a person this much.
› You two also cuddle a lot. You were the first one to ask, as usual, but now both of you feel weird sleeping alone.
› Alastor loves being the big spoon, if you're doing that.
› But he is also quite fond of occasionally being the little spoon, although he wouldn't be caught dead admitting it.
› A hobby you two do together is cooking. Cooking with Alastor is fun... especially if you're okay with cannibalism.
› But if you don't like that, he won't insist, of course.
› He's pretty good at cooking, though! If you're also good at it, then great. If not, he'll tease you about it (in a friendly way), but still teach you.
› On teasing, he teases you quite a bit, but never in a mean way. If you don't mind, of course.
› You also may tease him occasionally, but he doesn't appreciate you teasing him in public.
› The two of you also have a good amount of inside jokes that probably confuse the hell out of the others.
› Kissing... well. I don't really see Alastor as the type who would enjoy kissing on the lips too much.
› Tongue is out of question for him, as well as any sort of making out, but otherwise... if you like it, he can do that for you.
› He might actually like a peck or two. An acquired taste for him. Don't overdo it, though.
› Of course, him being from the 1930s and not very familiar with anything LGBTQ+ related, he would, at first, be somewhat confused by the request.
› You would probably have to explain to him that nothing is inherently romantic, especially not if you don't want it to be.
› "A kiss on the lips? Well... we aren't courting, Y/n."
› "We can put our own meanings to things, though. Would you like this kiss to be romantic?"
��� "Definitely not!"
› "Well, me neither. So it's not!"
› "... That is very sound logic! I can't believe I've never thought of this myself."
› Kisses on the rest of the face are something else, though. He does enjoy it whenever you kiss him on the cheek. He himself might occasionally kiss you on the forehead.
› But overall I don't think he's big on kissing.
› If you want to really solidify that you're in a queerplatonic relationship you'd also have to explain what that means to him, sorry.
› Again, he's old and not up to date with things.
› Thankfully he understands things easily.
› "I see... I suppose we do have quite the queer relationship, don't we? And it is certainly platonic. I don't see why not!"
› Going back to vulnerability. It will never feel fully natural for him to just be vulnerable with you — or anyone else, for the matter.
› (In case you couldn't tell, he's using the word queer as meaning odd (and doing a little pun. You know. Because it's a. Queerplatonic relationship. Queer. Hehehehe), as it defies the norm of what a platonic relationship usually looks like, despite being one.)
› But you know him well enough at this point to recognize whenever there's something going on with him.
› And if you show concern and give him enough time he will share whatever it is with you.
› If it's not anything too big he might even reach out to you first.
› He can also read you like a book and gives surprisingly good advice, and is also pretty good at comforting you.
› You are the only person allowed at his studio while he's live on the radio. You usually read as he speaks in the background, his voice is very relaxing. He enjoys having you around.
› He's also particularly gentlemanly to you, more than to the others. When you're with him you never have to open a single door yourself, for one. If it's raining, he'll hold the umbrella for the two of you. When walking together on the sidewalk, he's always on the side closest to the street instead of you.
› You two often go out for dinner. If you also fancy some cannibalism, he will definitely show you his favorite restaurants around. If not he will just pick the best non-cannibal places (but you know those are not his favorites, haha.)
› He just cares about you a lot, even if it took him long to admit (it may have seemed fast-paced during this, but Alastor is someone who really takes long to get close to.)
› And you care about him lot too!
› (And you're probably never going to be in a life-threatening situation again, at least not at the hands of most demons. Who would ever want trouble with Alastor?)
#alastor x reader#platonic alastor x reader#queerplatonic alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#headcanons#buffet tag
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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘, 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘
౨ৎ . . . there was a saying in the port mafia; that amongst their ranks hid an angel in disguise, who, through simple words alone, could make any man bend to her mercy. nobody could really resist her blinding charm. her mafioso boyfriend, of course, was no exemption.
౨ৎ . . . alternatively, you convince CHUUYA NAKAHARA to try on a maid's uniform. You like it a lot more than you thought.
warnings: criminal themes, swearing, female reader, slight manipulation, pet-names, suggestive content, w.c 1.9k
𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐉𝐎𝐊𝐄, at first. For your stout, temperamental mafioso lover was always such a pleasure to tease. He took everything so seriously, in that adorable, flustered way of his. Not many would think that the Chuuya Nakahara was so easy to work up. He commanded soldiers, legions; men were terrified of the underground General who was also a mortal master of gravity. Maybe it was a side to him he kept reserved just for you. That soft, cheeky side. The blush that always heated his ears to the colour of his hair whenever you decided to play with him.
"No fuckin' way."
You stood there in the bedroom you both shared — lavish and expensive, sitting on one of the highest floors of the Port Mafia's headquarters. He had already discarded his coat and hat, was busy scratching the crown of his head when you had put the question to him. Interrupting his yawn mid-way. Chuuya's eyebrows had scrunched, he'd shot you a disbelieving retort — the hell did you just say? Then, he caught sight of what was draped across your bent forearm.
His eyes had flickered from yours, to the dress, to yours, once more. When he asked you to say that again, that he didn't think he had heard you right, he had shut you down with that very blunt denial.
"Please?" You pouted, batting your eyelashes. "It's just a bit of fun. You'd look so adorable, Chuuya!"
"Hah?! No!" Chuuya snapped. He was like an angry kitten, his canines sharp and baring. "The fuck did you even get that thing, anyway?"
"I think Mori ordered the wrong size for Elise-chan," You held up the dress so it draped down, almost the length of your body, but not quite. It just barely sat a size too small. With its narrow set waist and countless little frills, you were, at first, a little disappointed — that such a pretty thing was going to go to waste. And then, the gears in your mind began their mischievous little tune. You looked at Chuuya with wide, imploring eyes. "Are you scared to put on a dress, my love?"
Chuuya scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I'm not scared of anything, baby doll."
"Then put it on."
"Go fuck yourself."
"You're so mean!"
At your wounded tone, the General's shoulders tightened a little. When he stole a glance in your direction, he saw the way your eyebrows drooped over your sad doe eyes, how your full lips formed that pretty little pout. Damn him, he was not considering this shit, there was absolutely no way Chuuya Nakahara was going to fit himself into that ugly piece of cloth just to make you happy. Murder, espionage — sure. For you, he wouldn't even give it a second thought. It would come as natural to him as breathing air.
But this?
He poked his cheek with his tongue. He began angrily tapping his foot against the carpeted floor. Stealing a second glance at the woman he loved, he caught the shadow of disappointment hanging over your head like an ominous raincloud, and felt the last shred of his resistance dissipate into sorry little afterthoughts.
Chuuya let out an extremely exaggerated sigh. Blinking, you glanced at him. He had his head bowed a little and was holding out one open, gloved palm.
"Hand it over."
A little startled all of a sudden, you gawped, making a strange sound. "Huh?"
An impatient growl echoed in the air. Chuuya looked up to glare at you from underneath his fair lashes, his eyes the colour of diamonds, of hard impenetrable sapphires. They narrowed dangerously when you were staring too long at the rose that blushed against his alabaster skin.
"So? Are ya gonna give me the shitty little thing, or not?"
Quickly understanding that he was actually taking you seriously, that he was considering your little charade, you had become too stupefied to do anything else. With hesitant fingers did you hold the maid's dress out to him, which he snatched from your grip in one forceful, swiping movement. You thought you caught the ends of the fuckin' shit I do for this woman, at the tail of it, but you couldn't be totally sure.
Seething, Chuuya balled the garment in his fist and marched off to your on-suite bathroom. He took a little longer than you expected him to — of course, he had never tried on a dress before. Maybe he was having trouble getting past all the ribbons and buttons, ties and zippers.
"Fuck me!" You heard him swear through the door after a few more moments of silence. Tender chuckles rose like bubbles in your chest — he was trying so hard to please you, exposing that soft side you kept under lock and key, only for yourself to indulge.
You lifted your hand to knock softly on the door. "Do you need some help in there?"
A growling blue-streak of profanities. Somehow, becoming more colourful and creative than the last. "How the hell do you women wake up in the morning and do this shit, every day? There's like, a million buttons on this ugly piece of crap!"
Crashing and banging mixed into the collection of sounds that was coming from the small bathroom. Amused, but also a little worried that he'd pull a little too hard on one of the ribbons and fall backwards against the toilet seat, you placed your hand on the golden doorhandle.
"Because us women are just that amazing," You mused, not resisting the urge to goad him. Your voice then dropped into a serious lilt. "Really, it's okay, Chuuya — you don't have to—"
That was when you felt it — the cool, insistent press of gravity, the humming in the air that told you your lover had activated his fearful technique. Your eyes shot down to where it was coming from, and to your immediate surprise, you saw the soft glow of crimson enveloped around the handle you were trying to unlatch — holding it securely in place.
"No. I said I'd fuckin' do it, didn't I?" Chuuya remarked through the wood. "So I will. Go wait over at the bed."
Prideful, stubborn man, you thought, rolling your eyes at his defensive tone, oh, how you loved him. "Okay." You sang sweetly, then stepped away from the bathroom door so as to sashay over to your expansive king size. You barely had a chance to set yourself down on the satin sheets when — bang!
The on-suite door had been thrown off of its hinges and cracked against the neighbouring wall with the force he put behind it. And standing there in the doorway in all his blood-boiling, skin-heating, frill-covered glory, was that very General who instilled terror to even the most seasoned of underground criminals. The long black dress that stopped just at his ankles and puffed at the shoulders threw his wild fiery hair into focus. The frilly white apron hanging loosely at his narrow waist contested with the bright red flush creeping up his neck.
You must have been staring at him for a little too long, because Chuuya snarled. "You happy now? I look damn ridiculous."
You didn't laugh. Nor did you tease him, as always, but you rose slowly up off of the bed and began to walk over to him. Stalk him, quietly, your expression a smooth, unreadable slate. The extreme lack of a reaction from you was making Chuuya's eyebrows knit, his lips softening from snarl to frown.
"O-Oi?"
When you reached him, you shot out to grab the little lapels of the dress that collared his long neck and tugged him down. So that he came just eye level with your own darker, smouldering ones. Oh, you were going to pounce on him. Packaged up in that pretty little parcel for you, you were going to devour him where he stood.
You smiled, leaning in, and whispered, "Told you you'd look absolutely adorable, my pretty, pretty boy."
✎ . . . requested by the lovely @ringsofsaturnnnn!
WRITING REQUESTS
#oh i absolutely loved writing this one#it was so fun#chuuya nakahara#chuuya nakahara x reader#chuuya x reader#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs x reader#bsd x reader#bsd#chuuya fluff#bsd chuuya#🎋 — writing requests#line divider by fireflygraphics <3#adorable heart dividers by cafekitsune
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because im sad about the last show, here's a little imagine about y/n and harry reminiscing the past two years the night before the last show :(
warnings: mentions of sex but nothing graphic
Your eyes fluttered open and you realized it was still dark outside, a sign that it was not quite morning just yet. You're not sure why you woke up. It was like your body knew something was off because when you turned over, the bed was empty beside you.
Rubbing your eyes to clear the sleepy haze, you noticed light coming from under the closed door of the bedroom in the villa you and Harry are staying in. Getting up out of bed, you opened the door and the sudden change in lighting burned your eyes. After getting used to it, you walked towards the kitchen and spotted your husband, leaning up against the counter, sipping on something inside of a mug.
“Harry?” you hummed, walking up to him.
“Oh hey, did I wake you up? I’m sorry," he looked up at you with doe eyes and messy hair sticking up in every direction.
“What are you doing?”
“Can’t sleep.”
You popped your bottom lip out and wrapped your arms around his bare waist, his instinctively wrapping around yours after setting his mug on the counter, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just can't believe the last show's tomorrow night.”
“Aw, I know. You wanna talk about it?” you hummed, looking up at him with tired eyes.
"I'm gonna miss it. A lot," he whispered, "but at the same time I'm excited for a long break."
"It's bittersweet."
"Yeah," he nodded.
"It's gonna be weird not getting to watch you on stage every night in your sparkly outfits."
He chuckled softly, "You don't get those outfits at home, do ya?"
"No, I get you either naked or in the one stupid shirt that you refuse to throw away even though it's practically in shreds."
"Thought you loved that shirt?" he teased.
You glared up at him before changing the subject, "What'dya think you'll miss the most? Just being on stage?"
"Yeah. Performing. It's one of my favorite things in the world to do. I just get such a rush from being out there and interacting with the fans and hearing them scream my lyrics."
"And hearing them bark at you," you added.
He giggled, "Yes, that too."
"You'll be back though. It's not the end."
“You're right. I feel like this tour was just special for some reason, I dunno. I fear I’m gonna get really emotional tomorrow on stage though. I was holding back tears at the show the other night," he chuckled.
“It’s okay to get emotional. You know me and your mom will be sobbing the entire night."
He smiled softly as he cupped your jaw and rubbed his thumb back and forth across your cheek, "I've been reflecting a lot recently. So much has happened in the last two years. It's wild."
“You've done, like what, 150 shows?”
“169 tomorrow."
“Holy shit, Harry. Most of them were completely sold out too. Do you realize how incredible that is?”
“It's mad. I think this has been the most successful tour I’ve ever been on.”
“Oh, by far.”
“Gonna miss seeing everyone every day. Gonna miss the fans and being up on stage. I've had some of the best shows of my life on this tour.”
“Harryween,” you giggled fondly at the memory that popped into your head.
“That was fun as fuck,” he giggled back.
“You’ve done more than just tour though. So many award shows, Coachella, music videos, you starred in two different movies, Harry.”
“I have,” he nodded, smiling proudly at himself, "Looking back, the amount of love and support that I've gotten from everyone, the fans, my team, my friends, and family, and from you is just - it's - it's so overwhelming like I can't even explain it to you. Like my mind can't comprehend that this is my life. Been 13 years and I still can't believe it."
"'cause you deserve it, baby. With the amount of love you give out and just the type of person you are in general, you deserve everything that's come your way. Have I ever told you how proud of you I am?" you teased, being the fact that those words leave your lips multiple times after every single one of his accomplishments.
"Never. Not once," he chuckled.
“Well, I am,” you hummed pressing a sweet kiss to his sternum, just under where his cross necklace lay, "It makes me feel so prideful that I get to call you my husband."
“Thank you, my love. You know I wouldn't be here without you.”
You rested your head on his warm chest, hugging him tighter, embracing the sweet silence before breaking it, "Can I be honest with you?”
He nodded as you looked back up at him.
“I know it's selfish but a big part of me is excited that it’s over because then I get you all to myself and don’t have to share you with the world.”
“Finally don’t have to hear you nagging for my attention all the time,” he chuckled.
“Heyyyyyy,” you whined.
“I’m joking, baby.”
You rolled your eyes teasingly.
“We have a lot to look forward to.”
“Like what?” he asked, although he knew exactly what you were referencing to, he just wanted to hear you say it.
“You becoming a daddy.”
“Really lookin forward to that. I can’t wait ‘till you have a cute little baby bump.”
“Gotta get me pregnant first.”
"You don't gotta worry 'bout that. We’re gonna be goin' at it all day every day when we’re on holiday next month,” he smirked.
“I can't even explain to you how excited I am for that. Vacation Harry is my favorite Harry."
He grinned, “I love you, Y/N."
“I love you too.”
He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours for a few sweet kisses before you hummed sleepily, “Will you come back to bed with me now?”
“Yeah, c’mon.”
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry#harry imagine#harry fanfic#harry fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#one direction#one direction fanfic#one direction fanfiction#one direction imagine#hslot#fluff#harry fluff#one direction fluff#harry styles fluff
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Raiden Headcanons
⊹˚. ♡˖This post will include mixed headcanons of both Raiden himself and what he’s like in a relationship!
♡ Word Count: 1.501
♡ Warnings: None!
(This is fully gender neutral on reader’s side!)
- He’s a shy guy, he probably confessed to you as red as a tomato and stuttering as if he’s about to go into cardiac arrest.
- He’s very interested in nature. He loves birds and squirrels. Probably has a dozen encyclopedias in his place about various animals, earth and space.
- Absolutely loves lofi/indie/indie folk music. Usually listens to whatever calms his mind, not so keen to rock/metal/pop music but he likes to listen to late 2000s / early 2010s hits because of Kung Lao and Johnny.
- Plant dad. He has lots of plants, flowers and vegetables in his garden and in the house. He likes taking care of them, and spends a lot of time to make sure every one of them is healthy.
- Loves both dogs and cats, so he’s neither a dog or a cat person. He would love to adopt one each, if not more. Knowing his love for animals, he would always leave a big bowl of water and food outside his garden so strays can drink and eat; regularly checks it so he can fill them up when they’re empty. Definitely has a bird feeder somewhere.
- His love languages are words of affirmation and acts of service. He will shower you with compliments, always support your decisions (unless they’re concerning) and he will do his best helping you with all the work. He will help you with chores, running errands, cooking, baking, even your own work if he has an idea of what it is. He loves giving gifts as well but he makes sure it’s either handmade or something he thinks you would really like.
- He has a super calm personality. He’s a pacifist, he sees fight as the absolute last option in a situation.
- He’s a stay at home guy, not really keen on social stuff but he’ll have a great time with you and friends if you come up with outside activities.
- Crowds aren’t generally his thing, but he will find calmness in watching people when he’s sitting somewhere having his tea. It brings him peace to know everyone has their own lives just like he does. It makes him feel more alive.
- When he takes you out on dates, it’s usually coffee dates or a small street food place that makes good food. He’s not a fan of extravagant stuff, so he keeps it as minimal as he can.
- He doesn’t drink, and he doesn’t smoke. This doesn’t mean he won’t drink at all though; he will drink 1-2 bottles of beer occasionally in social settings, but that’s about it. Since he barely drinks, he’s quite lightweight and will get drunk easily.
- He’s a touchy one, but not in the inappropriate way. He loves holding you, hugging you, kissing your head, nose and forehead. He likes to kiss your forehead the most.
- He loves reading interesting facts about our world. His Instagram reels are full of zoology, geology etc. kind of nerdy posts. When he watches tv, it’s usually documentary channels. He doesn’t like following the news because there’s usually sad or stressful things.
- Very positive person, he will look at everything on the brightest side possible.
- His sister would love you and you’d frequently have girl nights together, sometimes even pull pranks on Raiden if you’re feeling mischievous enough.
- You’re both his partner in life and his best friend (along with Kung Lao, CAN’T erase him from this part). He will share EVERYTHING with you, and will be really happy every time you do the same.
- Very easy to communicate. No arguments happen in the relationship because you two handle it like two grown adults by communicating your feelings and understanding each other. He has very high empathy, and will do his best to get your point if there’s a disagreement.
- He gets cold easily, so he will wear the fluffiest and warmest sweaters during winter. You will find him wrapped around blankets while he’s watching TV, with hot chocolate or tea in his mug.
- He likes playing board and card games, his favorites are the ones that you need to use your thinking skills.
- When he watches TV series, he will resort to sitcoms more than fantasy, drama etc, he thinks he already has enough fantasy elements in his life thanks to Liu Kang and being an Earthrealm Champion. He also loves animation movies; especially classics like Ice Age, Kung Fu Panda and Shrek.
- His favorite Disney princess is probably Mulan.
- He prefers village life over city life.
- He has a light blue pickup truck and it’s still in perfect condition despite being very old.
- He loves thrifting and will often go thrift shopping with you.
- He has a big library in the house filled with informative and literary books.
- Loves buying small decorations for the house. I believe he’d keep it more minimal with warm colors, and it’d feel very cozy inside.
- He works out in the house once in a while, but farming is usually enough physical activity for him.
- He will meditate regularly.
- He loves all the traditional Chinese food. Wonton soup makes him feel all warm and happy, and he’s obsessed with Kung Pao chicken.
- He’s interested in every mythology, but his favorites are Egyptian and Greek mythologies because they’re very complex and he can be occupied reading them and thinking over them for hours.
- He loves word puzzle games.
- He adores every traditional festival and will drag you with him and Kung Lao. His favorites are Chinese New Year and Mid Autumn Festival; he loves eating as many moon cakes as he can during Mid Autumn. He also loves seeing you in traditional Chinese clothing when you go to the festivals with them.
- He’s not a big fan of anime, but will watch them with Kung Lao and then complain about some nonsense, making Kung Lao side eye him and say “shut up, your sitcoms are way worse than this.”
- His YouTube recommendations consists of animal/nature/space documentaries, mythology and philosophy along with funny animal videos.
- (Very self indulgent) if you watch true crime documentaries, it makes him worry about your mental health sometimes, but you reassure him that everything is fine.
- Hates big lights, loves dim lighting. He will only keep smaller lamps on in the house. He thinks it’s more calming and easy on the eyes.
- He will frequently light candles and use incense. He might even use sage to help fight off negative energies once in a while; he’s a believer in spirits and such things like that.
- Very helpful towards everyone around him even when he doesn’t necessarily know the person. He will offer his help to anyone struggling with a task, will always help old ladies and grandpas with carrying their stuff around the village.
- He writes poems sometimes, but no one knows about them except you.
- He doesn’t know a lot about computers and phones, so if he struggles in something he will ask you instead of trying to handle it himself.
- He’s very interested in nature photography. He will never miss a chance of snapping a good scenery photo.
- He’s better at cooking than he is at baking. He once burnt a pie and mourned it for 3 days because he spent so much time on it.
- He can sew and crochet. If you have any damaged clothing, he will fix them up right away.
- Never wastes food. If you are picky, he will eat what you don’t off your plate even if he’s full.
- Loves preparing you breakfast and sometimes does it while you’re asleep, bringing it to you to the bed with flowers he picked off the garden.
- He can sing well, but is insecure about it despite your encouragement.
- He once tried skating after Kung Lao gaslit him, and he almost cracked his butt after falling.
- He loves bicycle rides. He will go on rides every day usually during evening, and will watch the sunset in somewhere nice before going back home.
- Hiking is a good hobby for him. He loves taking walks in forests and he likes camping a lot. He will bring you with him when he goes camping and hiking, sometimes Kung Lao will join. You guys sit around the bonfire as you eat marshmallows on sticks and Kung Lao babbles scary stories, trying to creep you out.
- Fengjian Teahouse is his favorite place to spend time when he’s in the village. Everyone knows and adores him.
- He would listen to your chatter about anything for hours. Your hyperfixations are entertaining for him and he will try to learn as much as he can so he can join the conversation because he knows you appreciate it a lot.
⊹˚. ♡˖ Hope you enjoyed!
#raiden x reader#raiden mk1#raiden#raiden mortal Kombat#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat#mk1 2023#mk1#mortal kombat 1#mortal kombat 2023#raiden mk
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(this is my first time writing for earth-42 miles, so please correct me if i get him wrong, ty !)
(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)
((also i'll be distinguishing miles 42 from miles 1610 through his second name, gonzalo, PLEASE CORRECT ME IF IT'S TOO WEIRD/INCORRECT IN THE FIRST PLACE TY... + ART IN THE PIC IS NOT MINE, I JUST EDITED IT, CTTO.))
miles-42 and miles-1610 x reader (twin au <33)
you had known the morales boys your entire life, they were sweet and caring, though only one of them was vocal about it; the other made it hard for you to tell if he cared or just waited for you to shut up and leave him alone. either way, both loved you just as much as you loved them, maybe even a bit more than you believed.
the two were partners in crime, whatever one did, they were sure to have the other's back. be it escaping home for the night to hang out with you, graffitiing some public place behind their dad's back, sneaking into their uncle aaron's place to hang out--they always had each other to get themselves out of trouble.
the two shared everything, as well. in common sibling, and of course, twin, fashion, their shared clothes, a room, a family--and of course, lives together. they were like two peas in a pod, quite literally; they'd share each other's joys, pain, anger, sadness... it was like a twin sense they had, an instinct that everything the one had, the other had to have, too.
but some things just weren't supposed to be shared, and even for the two close brothers, they knew that sentiment very well. there were days when the twins would hide things from each other, some feelings of jealousy, anger, or even... kind of just insecurity about not having what the other has--it hurts them sometimes that they know they can't share everything they have with each other.
even you.
they knew you since they were kids, teased you a whole lot, but protected you when you needed them. they were your best friends of all, even if other friends left you or you left them, they were the ones who stuck by your side the most, who you knew best. they were the real ones, and they loved you a whole lot; you were practically part of their family, as per what rio and jeff told you.
but even if you three were friends your whole lives, the two felt... different about it. as if they thought 'friends' was an incorrect label for what they wanted to be with you. they were big dreamers, both of them were–but the biggest dream of all, for both of them, was to make you theirs. and they don't mean to share you, they mean you pick either of them, be it gonzalo or miles.
gonzalo is subtle about dropping hints on how much he likes you, he only gives you a small sliver, a small taste of how much he really feels about you. he keeps you company when you're lonely, and he doesn't chat up a storm as much as his twin; in fact, you barely notice he's there, but somehow, you feel comfortable and safe around, especially when you finally notice him there.
you feel bad that he sometimes goes unnoticed to you when he hangs around you, but he doesn't mind–he can want you attention, it's a big honor for him to have it all to himself, but he wants to earn your attention, not force it out of you.
unlike miles, gonzalo is more of a listener, like a really intent listener. miles is great to talk to, it's a two-way street, you talk and listen, he talks and listens; but gonzalo always seems to listen, just mainly listening to you is the best he can do.
he didn't really feel like he was the best person to go to for advice, he'd rather listen to your problems and help you solve it on your own. he's unsure of how to solve a lot of problems on his own, so helping other people solve theirs? yeah, he worries a whole lot about what he says, even if he doesn't show it.
he cares about you so much, and he knows how capable you are, he tends to worry less in general because he trusts you so much. but if you really needed him, oh goodness, boy does not hold back on helping you, defending you, even.
he appears scary to a lot of people, and he uses that to his advantage. one time, you needed him to pretend to be your boyfriend for a couple of days, just to shake off some creeps who can't take the hint that you weren't interested. it got to the point where, when miles wasn't around, gonzalo confronted those guys and, nonchalantly, threw their lunch in their faces.
he did not flinch at all, and, without hesitation, he took your hand and ran away with you out of the cafeteria. when you asked him where he was taking you, he just said he'd take you far away from them, and even if they'd follow you, he'd beat their asses for real. like hell he'd let anything happen to you, let anyone else think they can have you.
"i held back because i'm a nice guy, like you say. and because i'm nice, i won't beat the crap out of them, yet. but they gotta understand... they can never be with you the way we're together."
you thought you knew what gonzalo meant to say, you thought he meant it in the nicest, friendliest way possible--and he sort of did, but he meant that... no one else can have what he wants with you; this romance with you that he's pictured in his head over and over again, but is too afraid to tell you and own up to his feelings.
he's scared he'll scare you away and lose you.
unlike miles, who always seems to share a laugh with you. miles is sometimes mistaken as your boyfriend, what with your friends and your parents always seeing you two together. you both loved art and music, hung out together several times, even without gonzalo, to share the pieces you two made, listen to music together, maybe graffiti a few walls here and there without his dad knowing; it was bliss, being with miles.
miles made you feel like the world was your oyster, he never restricted you to anything because he knew what it was like to be restricted from a lot of things.
unlike gonzalo, miles talks to you while he listens. he offers you advice, tries to solve your problems for you. and though you really appreciate his help, you somehow feel like he makes it his duty to take up your burdens and make them his own. miles has always been that way, selfless and people-loving, but it hurt you a lot to know that miles can't even help himself first a lot of the time.
he keeps telling you he's okay, he's not at all in any trouble, and even if he looks okay, you knew for a fact those were lies. miles wasn't the best liar, he was kind of compulsively lying, but the only lies he ever told you and everyone else he knew and cared about were that he was okay.
you really wanted to help him, but miles is stubborn; he insists he doesn't need help, he's "okay! what about you?" that's all he ever retorts with. as much as you loved miles, there were just times when you couldn't help him, not because you weren't just sure where to start, but he really closed himself off a lot of the time.
but, he's trying. he expresses himself through his art, and slowly, all his feelings unravel when you ask him about it. he could go on for hours on end about how much he put his feelings, his thoughts, his ideals into his work; how much love he imbued in every single bit of it.
one time, he made you a portrait; he was doing it subconsciously, maybe he did out of longing for you because he made it when you and your family were on vacation. he didn't realize it was you until gonzalo pointed it out, and slowly, he came to draw you, illustrate you, more and more, with and without him realizing that, in all his works... you're always the constant.
gonzalo encouraged him to hand it to you when you got back, but he was scared; what if you found it weird? what if you found it creepy? what if it was actually disproportionate to how you really looked? would you even recognize it was you?
but despite his overwhelming thoughts, he decided that he'd find out the answers when you gave it to him. and thus, he presented it to you the day you came home.
he hesitated, of course, he was nervous--fumbling over his words and laughing awkwardly to himself as you looked at the portrait.
"i know, i know, it's... kinda weird, no? like, out of the blue, you just came to mind. and i guess my hands just had minds of their own, it seems. ha, ah, um, well... hah, do you like it? is it... any good, or...?"
when you told him, without a second thought, that you loved it; he was so relieved. his confidence came back and he showed you more of what he made. though he was a little embarrassed because he thought some parts were off, some parts didn't capture the right essence of you--all that mattered to him was that you were happy, you liked what he made you.
but he could never tell you why you came to mind those days, why you were all he could think of that he drew you over and over and over again. when he listened to his favorite songs, only you came up to mind.
he's scared that if he tells you, he loses you.
the twins talked about how they felt about you to each other, and they came to a joint conclusion: they both loved you. well, that was okay, sort of... not that they'd stop being brothers if you liked either one of them.
"you know i'm not gonna lose to you though, right? i like them a whole lot, and... i care about them."
"hah, what makes you think i don't feel that way about them, too? you watch your back, brother, they'll be mine in no time."
guess it's double the trouble for you, with both morales boys pursuing you and your love.
a/n: yes i was inspired by the scene in the movie, you got me <33
#earth 1610 miles#earth 42 miles#earth 42 miles fluff#earth 1610 miles fluff#miles morales x reader#miles morales x you#miles morales x y/n#miles morales fluff#miles morales imagine#miles morales#miles morales scenario
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Good intent
Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Homeless!Reader
Chapter 1
ONLY 18+ | MINORS DNI
WARNING - This story contains the following: dark & suggesting themes such as kidnapping, non-con, explicit smut, obsessive behavior/possessive behavior/delusional behavior on Ransom’s part, Ransom being a creep in general, unbalanced power dynamic, Stockholm syndrome on reader’s part, classism, size kink, manipulation, angst, a bit of sad!Ransom, eventual fluff.
Ch. | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |
Summary: Ransom is going through a mid-life crisis where he’s miserable and he wants to change things up to make his daily life more interesting. The change involves taking the freedom of someone who he deems is beneath societal suitability.
Narrator POV
For the past few weeks, Ransom Drysdale had taken notice of a new piece to his repetitive - and quite frankly, boring pattern of a routine.
Every Saturday evening, he and a couple of his so-called friends, who conveniently only hung out with him on occasions where he felt like wasting a lot of money, would go to the nightclub to get drunk, sometimes snort cocaine given the chance, then go their separate ways to hook up with whores when the evening came to an end.
This used to be Ransom’s highlight of the week, and it still was compared to what he did any other day.
He didn’t do much else at home other than occasionally picking up girls to go on a ride on the Beamer - one of his most precious possessions, to then end up at his house to hot sex. His sex drive had been indefinitely high ever since he started his trust fund of a life style. Being alone in a big house with too much money and no job to keep him occupied had led him to feel lonely, frustrated and lastly concluding - lust.
He used to love the attention he was given by the women who so easily spread their legs for him, but eventually he felt empty from them. Because despite how much they would beg him to use them like they were his personal sextoys in the heat of the moment, he knew deep down they didn’t rely on him as much as he relied on them. They were just as much after a good fuck as him, but as soon as he kicked them out of his house the morning after, they were off doing whatever ‘normal people’ do.
They probably had family, friends,…- he on the other hand was left to ponder on what to do next to entertain himself. He had yet to find that one thing that could bring some sort of stability and could satisfy his thirst for a lifelong entertainment. Getting a job was not one of them, no matter how much he sometimes considered it. He only had to remind himself of how miserable he was the few weeks he worked for Harlan at the publishing company.
No, he wanted something else.
And tonight, he thinks he might have found it.
A young woman had caught his eye each time he drove past the street that led to the nightclub. It was obvious enough that she was homeless, given that he had seen her laying against the wall of an apartment building, snuggling in her sleeping bag - reasonably so because it was the end of October. The nights were only getting colder as winter was right around the corner. She wasn’t wearing anything appropriate for the weather either - a thin jacket with no gloves and a hat barely covering her ears to keep her warm.
Her appearance alone wasn’t something he found eye catching. It was simply how there were rarely, if any homeless people around. This small town was known for people of high class, with the exception of lower classes visiting the area to spend the little extra money they had earned from their minimum wage paying job to have a once in a life time experience in the 5 star restaurants or in the luxurious nightclub. The few homeless people who did end up here would be kicked out days later, due to complaints from the rich of how they were ruining the reputation the town tries to uphold.
Ransom couldn’t stay more neutral on the case as he cared little to nothing about what the town decided to do with the less fortunate - as long as his money and property wasn’t personally affected, it didn’t matter to him.
But for once, he couldn’t help but be a little confused as to how this woman had lasted as long as she had. It had been more than a week, and she still hadn’t moved from her spot. Maybe the people who lived in the apartment didn’t mind her presence, or were too occupied to even notice her. She kept her spot pretty tidy too, making sure to not let any trash she may have to spread out on the pavement. She wasn’t the average homeless man who would beg for a penny either, which led Ransom to assume she had some money to cover a few basic needs but not enough to sleep somewhere.
These thoughts kept him preoccupied while he slowly downed the whiskey he had kept in his hand for the longest time. His friends seemed to take notice of how quiet he was the whole time, and tried to ignite his usual enthusiasm.
“See that chick over there? She’s come all this way from Missouri and I heard she gives the best head. Think it’d be good for you to let off some steam and give it a shot, pal.” One of the guys said smugly and pointed to the blonde who seemed to have already been checking out Ransom as she bit her bottom lip seductively.
Ransom sighed and sunk his shoulders. “Sure, why the fuck not.”
He walked up to the woman with a smirk on his face to keep up the same facade he’s had for a while. They flirted with each other - Ransom commented how her filthy words coming from her mouth was turning him on, though it was hardly the truth, and the woman replied with; “wanna see what other filthy things my mouth can do?”
One thing led to another, and he found himself in the handicap restroom with the woman between his legs sucking him off. It was good, - great even, but he felt nothing. This has been going on and on - he practically knows how the night is going to end and it makes him feel miserable. How would this spiral ever end if he kept on letting it happen?
“Fuck-! Stop, just stop.” Ransom said hastily while pushing the woman off of him. “I can’t fucking do this right now.” The blonde had an offended look on her face, but he paid no mind as he tucked his dick back in his boxers and zipped up his trousers. As he left the restroom he could hear her shout after him “you piece of shit!”
It caught the attention of one of his buddies, and they asked if something went wrong, to which he muttered: “I’m leaving. M’tired of this fuckin’ place.”
None of them bothered to go after him after that. Of course they wouldn’t.
He walked towards his car that was parked only feet away from the nightclub entrance. The little alcohol in his system wasn’t enough to make him not sober, so he was confident to drive home safely. Though, his plan wasn’t to drive straight home even if he tried to convince himself it was all the reason he left early.
Driving closer to the all too familiar street, he scanned alongside the pavement, grinning mischievously when his eyes landed on the mysterious homeless woman.
There she is.
Slowing the car down, he came to a full stop when his car reached alongside her. She seemed to have awoken abruptly from the car’s rumbling engine, and glanced up to be met by the driver’s eyes. His gaze was on her through the whole process of him turning off the engine to him stepping out of his car.
He has never been this close to her, and so he took his time to study her face. Upon a closer look, he found her to be quite pretty. Cute even. Dare he say attractive if it wasn’t for the dust on her cheeks, her greasy hair and fashionably outdated clothes. In a sense, he felt dominant as his tall frame seemed to threaten her. Maybe it was the cold temperature, but he liked to think her sudden stiff composure was because of him.
“What’s your name?” Ransom asked, deciding to finally break the silence.
She gave him a cautious look before mumbling her name. One could easily miss it, but Ransom had sharp ears when he really wanted to listen.
“Y/N, huh..pretty name. Name’s Hugh Drysdale. I live not far from here and have seen you a couple times while driving by. Care to tell me how you ended up here?”
“Why? Do I bother you?” She asked condescendingly.
He frowned, slightly irritated. “No, just wanna know because I might be of help. No need for the attitude.” He said. Ransom surprised himself by saying the word ‘I’ and ‘help’ in the same sentence. Guess there’s a first time for everything.
Y/N’s face softened immediately at the mention of help, lowering her guard. “Oh, I see.. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I just assumed the worst coming from a guy who has just been at a nightclub.”
So she’s noticed me too. Neat. He thought to himself. “Yeah, I go there from time to time but decided to leave early. Didn’t feel up for it today and I’m still sober, which led me to you.” Ransom explained himself. “You were gonna tell me what happened?”
Y/N sighed and lowered her head as though the mere reminder of her life story made her tired. “If you insist….- I got kicked out from my parents’ house two years ago when I turned 18 because they thought it was the perfect opportunity to let me go without legal consequences. I never had a good relationship with them to begin with as I was always seen as a burden than anything else. I then moved in with an ex-friend but it didn’t work out in the long run. Never found a job either which refrained me from finding a place and paying pay rent. I moved around a lot, from state to state. I used to live in my car but eventually had to sell it to have money for food and other things - and that leads me to where I am right now.”
Ransom shook his head, “Damn, you’ve been through a lot. All this time…having to deal with so much on your own. Must have been hard.” He said, leaning against the same wall beside her with his arms crossed. Deep down he scoffed at how little he could relate to her.
The only thing Ransom felt like he could personally relate to was on the topic of having a troubling relationship with parents. Sure, he wasn’t kicked out of his parents’ house without a bank account containing a large sum of money, but he felt the part where he was also unwanted by his parents, - not to mention by his whole family.
They all hated him and saw him as the black sheep of the family. Harlan was more patient with Ransom compared to the rest, since He was still getting his monthly allowance to continue with his foolery. In the end however, he was left by himself, which led him to realize another thing -
She has no one. Just like me.
He looked down at her from where he was standing, taking in how fragile she looked. How small and weak she was compared to him. He has - and could have anything he wanted, while she has nothing. The contrast between them made him feel something he has never felt before.
“Yeah, it sucks...I don’t want you to feel bad for me though. I have been very lucky to not have been robbed or experience…worse things. People seem to be too busy here and haven’t bothered me. It has made my time out here so much easier. I know I’ll find my place once I get out of here.” Y/N said with a smile.
Ransom hummed contently. He liked her voice. He could get used to hearing her talking about anything her heart desired. “…you know, I can tell you’re freezing just by looking at you. It would be inhumane of me to leave you here for another night. I have a spare guest room and a bathroom you could use for as much as you’d like, till you…figure out where to go from there I guess.”
She looked up at him with doe eyes that made his mind go wild with scenarios - most of them being in a sexual manner. Her in his arms as he kissed her and made her go down on her knees, looking at him with those same eyes while she sucked his-
“Oh, I really appreciate the offer Hugh, but I really don’t need your help. As of tomorrow early, I’ll be on my way to Pennsylvania where I have been offered a place.-“
The fuck?
“Its a shelter for the homeless youth, and the bus I’m taking goes in about…” she checks her watch for a brief moment. It was currently midnight. “..six hours, so I think I’ll do just fine until then. It’s exclusively on its way to where I need to be and it’d be a disaster if I missed it.” She said and chuckled to herself at the mere thought. “But like I said, it was nice of you to-!”
Before she finished her sentence, Ransom straightened his posture, moved away from the wall without sparing her a glance and walked towards his car. The car door was swung open and he slammed it closed once he was behind the wheel. Within seconds, he was back on the main road and drove his way home. His grip on the steering wheel was tight. He was trying to remain calm but he was bad at it. Thoughts and questions were irking him up even more as he got closer to his house.
SHE doesn’t NEED my help? Who the fuck did she think she was talking to? The CEO of charity case? Get the fuck out of here.
Can’t believe she’s picking a fucking homeless shelter over my offer. Ungrateful cunt. Guess she thrives on living in a shithole.
She’s a nobody. She’s nothing. She’s below what is considered a decent member of society, and yet -
she doesn’t need me.
Ransom was fueled with anger at this point. His ego was painfully bruised. He has never offered someone like her any type of service, and when he does for the first time, he’s rejected.
Furthermore, he found himself disappointed that he thought this would go somewhere. He fantasized that if she accepted, he could give her everything and she would see him as her savior from a pitiful life. And in return, he would have her as his thing. The thing that would provide him a satisfactory life. He wanted to be the only reason for her entire livelihood and her to be nothing without him. The mere thought aroused him and made him realize how sick he was, but he didn’t care. He had seen her face and it was enough for him to be sure that he wants that with her. A nobody that had nothing other than him - Hugh Ransom Drysdale.
So what’s stopping him? Who said he had to leave it at her meek rejection? His inner thoughts asked.
It was then when he decided. He was going to get her for his own pleasure, and add good intent to it.
Ransom had taken a few shots at home to calm his nerves while plotting the unthinkable inside his head.
He has had many sinister thoughts in the past during desperate times, but he never acted upon them as he always found a way around it. This time wasn’t like those other times though. It felt like a higher calling was telling him that he had to take action or else he would miss what’s right in front of him. His ticket out of a miserable spiral.
It was 02:30 in the morning, and after taking in careful consideration, he backs out of his driveway and drives downtown once again. A handkerchief and a bottle of chloroform is neatly placed on the passenger seat.
The party at the nightclub had died down by now, and most people had departed. All the lights except for the head lights were off across the whole street where Y/N was resting. She was slotted in the dark between two head lights and could barely be seen from a distance. This was a huge advantage on Ransom’s part. He parked the Beamer a little further away not to wake her. Only for a few minutes did he wait to be sure it was the right time to approach.
He picked up the bottle of chloroform, holding it away from his face as much as possible while opening it and making the handkerchief ready for use. A few drops of sweat had appeared on his forehead, probably from nervousness. This has to go as swiftly as possible or I’m out of luck.
With quiet steps he approached her, with the handkerchief sprayed with a dose of the drug in his hand.
When he was close enough, he shoved the handkerchief onto Y/N’s nose and mouth, holding her body down with his other hand causing her whole body to jolt awake, her eyes wide open and whimpering out of distress. She tried to resist and push him off but her strength was quickly drained from the drug and her eyes twitched, trying to have them remain open.
“Shhhh, it’s alright sweetheart, go back to sleep..” he cooed. Her body started to slump downwards to the ground again, but he held her back steadily and lifted her up with both of his arms. She was completely knocked out, and while he cautiously looked around for any witnesses - only to see none, he hooked her backpack on his arm with her and rushed back to the Beamer, putting her in the passenger seat. He left her sleeping bag behind, secretly hoping that It’ll add fuel to the fire and piss some people off that a homeless person had left their stuff behind like many times before.
While driving back, Ransom took quick glances at the woman he had taken while still maintaining concentration to the road. His thumb reached out to her cheek and he attempted to smear off the dust, unsuccessfully doing so.
“Don’t worry, kitten. We’ll get you all cleaned up.” He mumbled, more to himself than to her.
He laid her body in the guest room and gathered supplies for her to use in the morning. Towels, bottles of shampoo with different fragrances, a deodorant, toothpaste and a toothbrush - everything a person would need. He knew he would have to buy clothes for her too, but he wouldn’t be able to do that until tomorrow. She can wear his clothes in the meantime.
He had these extra supplies stored after his mother complained relentlessly on how little personalized the guest room was. He would argue that the extra stash was useless because he wouldn’t have any guests over in the near future.
Guess he could finally admit he was wrong. Those silly soaps with different scents would come to great use in the hands of Y/N. Or maybe in the use of his own hands roaming around her body.
While he expected her to clean herself by her own when the morning arose, he figured he could do the easy task of cleaning her face.
Fetching a clean cloak and soaking it up in semi hot water, he brought it to Y/N’s face, gently rubbing at the spots where the dust had stained her skin. He touched her hair out of curiosity and leaned in to smell if she had any odor.
He smelled something that he couldn’t quite pinpoint, and upon closer look he noticed her roots were stained with a tint of white. He put one and one together - she had been using baby powder to keep her hair from turning greasy and smelly after assumingely going weeks off washing her hair. Poor little thing, he thought. And she thought she would be better off at a shelter than be with me. As if that would make her life any better. How pathetic.
In a less discreet way, he removed her jacket and unbuttoned her shirt to remove her bra. The countless of women that have been over at his place would always complain leaving their bras on for the whole night, leaving their breasts sore from the restraint. With this knowledge, he had an excuse to take a peek at her breasts.
Once Ransom figured out how to remove the straps, he was met by two perky nipples staring right back at him. His mouth watered at the sight. He felt the restraint of his trousers tightening.
Less than 24 hours ago, he could be found having a threesome with two prostitutes in his king sized bed - yet, this somehow made him more easily riled up compared to the last several intercourses he has had.
His hand reached out to squeeze one of her tits. They were so soft. So beautiful. His other hand reached to his bulge, palming it with slow strokes. His breath hitched and he abruptly stopped both acts.
Fuck, get it together, Ransom. There will be a time to have her, but that will have to be after she has showered.
Buttoning her shirt back together and taking her bra with him to the dirty laundry basket, he left the guest room and went straight to his bedroom.
Through his wardrobe of clothes was an access control panel controlling the level of security he wanted the house to be on. Most doors and openable windows relied on the level of security the control panel was set to. In this case scenario, Ransom had now maximized the level of security - meaning all windows were now completely sealed and all doors leading outside would remain locked at all times - unless he typed in the code. That way, Y/N would be free to roam around the house without him being worried she might run away. The system was secured enough for her to never figure out the code. His house had large glass exterior, but thankfully there were blenders to block the outside world.
He didn’t have to worry about passerby’s seeing Y/N when he wasn’t around to keep her in check. There were hardly any people around where he lived, but he didn’t want to risk it.
He did have a basement he could put her in as well, but that would be too cruel. After all, he’s not a monster. He only has good intentions, even though some of them may be morally questionable.
Finally tucking himself into bed, he kept a smirk on his face as he let his eyes finally rest. The morning excited him. He was prepared that Y/N would be defensive and show resistance, but he was determined to put her in her place and make her see his way. -
Make her realize she needs him, make her crave him for his riches and understand that only through him she can be a somebody.
Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <3
#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale#dark ransom drysdale#dark ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale x female reader#ransom drysdale x y/n#ransom drysdale fanfiction#chris evans fanfiction
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I do wonder if we get the beginning of Brief Lives in the next Sandman Netflix season, specifically with this moment:
If it's going to be played quite the same way? If they end up skipping straight from Seasons of Mist to Brief Lives (which I think is an excellent idea to be clear) it raises a few possibilities:
(cut for comic spoilers & speculation)
Personally I find this moment a bit weird in general because Dream doesn't even name the woman who supposedly just broke his heart and thus launched the action of this arc. Also the fact we later find out it's Thessaly who in the comic at least (the show can always soften the character as they have others) fucking sucks, for her to kick off Dream's sadness roadtrip of self-destruction feels like such a waste. It also feels weird to imagine babygirl Netflix Tom Sturridge Dream going for someone like Thessaly after his whole arc of trying to be a better person and learning important lessons and also just...being a much softer character who is trying to do better, going for someone like Thessaly (who doesn't even like him by her own admission) and who is also terrible feels like a tragic step backwards in his character development. Not inconceivable, just terribly tragic.
Which has me thinking that one possibility is if they go straight from Seasons of Mist to Brief Lives, this moment above could be about Nada, who does choose to pass on after he frees her, even after expressing that she still loves him. That love is just not enough for her to accept his offer to be his queen and stay (after 10k years of Hell, who can blame her?!).
Point is, this moment instead being part of the long tail of Dream's self-recrimination about Nada choosing to pass on would make a lot of sense and be a much more justifiable kick-off for Dream going on a roadtrip that's an expression of his doubts in his ability to change for the better (and therefore, must he die?). Nada's punishment is so heinous I can easily see the Sturridge Dream being conflicted about his own actions for much longer than he appears to be in the comic, leading to this moment after he set her free.
Thessaly is an immortal, so even if/when she shows up, her having an acrimonious "angry ex girlfriend" reaction to Dream need not be because she was the girlfriend who kicked off the Brief Lives arc, they could have just dated sometime in the past centuries and still have vitriol between them.
And finally, and this is just me being a shameless Dream/Hob shipper, I do kind of wonder how one even justifies Dream ending up with an immortal human like Thessaly when Hob is right there.
Look, in the comic, Hob barely seems to remember Dream exists when he's not there, so there's no feeling of "Why doesn't Dream hook up with Hob instead??" when you first learn about Thessaly. But in the show, you've got the 1789 tension, the missed meeting, the devotion of the New Inn. Dream going for another, shitty immortal brunet when Hob is right there feels a bit like a slap in the face in that context.
And let me be clear, it's not because I'm being shipper garbage that thinks Neil can, should, or would alter the story to appease Dreamling shippers or that Dream dating Thessaly in the show as he does canonically in the comic would be an intentional slap in the face to Dreamling shippers! It is beyond wishful thinking to imagine we'd get more than what the comic offers which is a few beautifully rendered, sentimental moments between them for us to build our fanon ship off of. It's not Neil's responsibility to make it canon so don't be fucking weird about it.
It's more that the show is so queer. The comic is queer too but the show absolutely focuses and centers the narrative on predominantly queer couples and people, more than straight ones. They also softened for example the Corinthian and confirmed he's gay and has some non-destructive relationships with men, he's not just a murderer of gay men. So the narrative is even more queer than the comic.
In the 80s/90s when Sandman came out, the idea of Dream as the lead protagonist being canonically queer I think would have been pretty unlikely. He's very, very het in the comics, with the closest we get to a whisper of him not being strictly het being a mention of Lucifer once being beautiful and some speculation they might have had a relationship.
But the show is so very queer and the energy so charged between Dream and Hob (and the writers acknowledged and encouraged it!) that there is no, in my opinion, natural conclusion that, "Sure, almost everyone else is queer in this, but not Dream, obviously." If anything, it would be jarring to have so many queer characters only to slam the door shut on the possibility that Dream might also be queer.
Which is my roundabout way of saying: I wonder how Thessaly will fit into this at all. I speculate she might be removed entirely from this beat of Brief Lives, in favor of making Dream more remorseful about Nada in a sympathetic way. Furthermore, introducing Thessaly when Hob, another immortal who actually likes Dream is right there the idea that he opts for Thessaly (a woman who doesn't even like him to the point where she plays an active part later in his death) instead after being tortured for 106 years is actually painfully heartbreaking.
So in conclusion: eh? Who knows!
But also: DREAM, Hob is RIGHT THERE! Date HIM, not fucking THESSALY?!
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I have this thought for quite some time, coming mostly from my twitter and Reddit interactions.
I kinda love the amount of hate I see towards Buggy. People hate how Oda loves this clown and keeps bringing him up, how he is getting more connections to story, how he gets that high bounty. They hate him because he doesn’t have powers, or isn’t smart.
And the fact that so many of them try to cope by putting Mihawk in place of Buggy is incredible. Mihawk is not some lost friend who is having insanely deep contention to shanks, BUGGY IS.
But I guess he’s not “cool and powerful” enough and they don’t get why shanks could be friends with “someone like that” (actual take I saw a lot).
I can’t wait for buggy to be more important just to see everyone lose their minds. If he gets to laugh tale, the best day of my life. And I’m not even that big on Buggy
These takes make me so angry because they're just??? Not true at all??? Most of these opinions come from the general audience and dudebros who don't take the time to analyze Buggy and just accept his character the way other characters see him. Instead of stopping for a second and thinking about why he does what he does and why Oda likes him so much, they just assume he's the lame clown everyone in the OP world thinks he is. Which is, in my opinion, extremely sad. And you don't even have to analyze shit?? Like, okay, I get it. Chapter 1082 is crucial for his character and perhaps if you don't read that you might think he's useless and Oda uses him too much for what he actually does for the story (bullshit, by the way, I'm just trying to find a reasoning behind their shitty takes). But after reading 1082??????????? Okay???? Whatever. Buggy haters get on my nerves, not because they don't like Buggy, but because they don't understand him.
Saying Buggy isn't smart is uhhh. It's just not true. The fact that he's constantly placed next to the biggest, most feared, and strategic pirates in the world just doesn't help him at all to prove that, tbh. I'd be scared af if I had gone through all the things he has, honestly. Like- People- People just ignore Water 7 and the whole thing with Usopp being a coward but wanting to be more than that because of his dream and that being scared doesn't necessarily mean something bad??? I think people just forget entire arcs and scenes to post these things. Buggy might not be the bravest but he understands the pirate world better than anybody and he's genuinely smart, he's just constantly placed in situations that force his character to be scared af (for obvious reasons) and everyone looks down on him for that. Which makes total sense for his character because his whole thing is feeling inferior and being compared to others when he has many talents himself. He isn't dumb, he just has the worst luck in the whole fucking world. Or the best. It sort of depends.
I think he lost his bravery and sense of adventure when he gave up on his dream, but now that he's being more confident in the fact that he could achieve it, we will see him using his full potential. And I am so, so excited for that. The speech he gives in chapter 1082 changed my life and it's easily my favorite chapter from the whole manga. I really, really hope they do something with that. I want him to have all the wonderful scenes he deserves.
And, okay, about the Mihawk thing: I don't agree with that that much? Like, okay, I can see people often making Mishanks relationship more than what it actually is, but tbf, Mihawk is barely a character here because Oda hasn't given him screentime of his own. He's always there for another character (Shanks, Zoro, Cross guild, etc). What we do know about him is that he went all his way to find Shanks and tell him about Luffy?? Like. Okay, babe, I know what you are. What we do know is that Shanks and him have something going on and I would really like to know WHAT exactly. I'm not even a huge Mishanks shipper but I completely understand why people like it. I prefer other ships like Shuggy and Cross Guild but, well, I don't think they use Mihawk to take over Buggy's place. I think they just want Mihawk to have some story because Oda barely gives him one. But I can see where you're coming from, though. I can see a lot of people using Shuggy's dynamic for them sometimes and it bothers me because these two have their own thing and they could easily just?? Ship both things??
People saying they don't understand why Shanks would be friends with somebody like Buggy is so funny to me, because we barely know anything about Shanks either, lmfao. He's the cool and powerful role model of the main character. He's literally the most cliché thing in the whole wide world, shut up. And I absolutely love him and he has wayyy more personality than these types of characters usually have, but I am tired of seeing takes like this as if Buggy wasn't one of the most interesting characters in this manga. But, also, Shanks would just?? Kick these people's asses for this shit. Saying you don't understand why Shanks would be friends with Buggy is just admitting you think the same way people in-world think about him, which is just admitting you don't understand his character. At least people in-world think that way because they don't know Buggy's story. You know Buggy's story. You should know why Shanks is friends with him and cares so much about him. But also?? Even if Buggy truly was a fucking loser with no talent and no dreams. Saying Shanks needs a reason for being friends with him is so dumb. Have you considered that... Sometimes... Most of the time... People don't have a reason for being friends with somebody and you don't need to find a reason for somebody's love?? Like- Perhaps Shanks just fucking loves Buggy because that's his childhood friend and he doesn't care about his abilities or talents. Perhaps he just loves him for who he is. I don't think it's that hard to understand, honestly.
You're not that big on Buggy, but I am. I really am. He's probably getting a tragic ending with Shanks but I do not care. If he ever gets to Laugh Tale or- Or if he ends up believing in himself finally. If he gets closure with him (which he will get, because Oda loves these two too much to leave them without closure). I will be the happiest person in the whole world. My mind and body say "Luffy king of the pirates!!" but my heart cries of happiness every time I think about Buggy being the king. I love him so fucking much.
#hahahaha i am so normal about buggy i swear i swear#I AM SO NORMAL#i am not#i am sorry for this i think i got too violent and passive aggressive#but i love him so much i can't stand buggy haters they get on my nerves#buggy and usopp haters are like my worst enemies in the whole world and i will forever fight them#one piece#buggy the clown#red haired shanks#shuggy#<- for obvious reasons and not only target audience but tbh yeah target audience
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Here is some of those wonderfully nostalgic girly-girl shows in vague order in which I watched/discovered them that no one asked for but I’m giving to you anyways.
1. First up, we’ve got the Horseland
Back in the day, I was a major horse girl (a part of me still is), but this show was so awesome and adorable. It’s just a bunch of gals riding their horses and hanging out at the barn. And their horses and other animals talk amongst themselves. It is all an animal lover like me could want. It’s just so cute and gives sweet life lessons. And occasionally, I found it interesting that they do touch upon some serious topics such as eating disorders and loss. The episode “Mosey” always makes me cry. All the episodes are on YouTube.
Overall, I have to say my favorite character is Alma Rodriguez.
2. LEGO Friends
The first generation of LEGO Friends is nostalgic, but I also seriously love the LEGO Friends: Girls on a Mission. It’s just a bunch of teenage girls getting up to shenanigans and being besties (Oddly, though they are high school age, we barely see them in school XD). I particularly enjoy Girls on a Mission (the episodes are on YouTube) because the episodes were so well put together and it fleshes out each girl a bit more uniquely. It’s a genuinely fun show though I generally am partial to LEGO shows.
I am personally not a fan of latest generation of LEGO Friends. I’ve watched a few episodes and it’s just blegh. It might be the nostalgia talking but I just can’t get into it.
My fave character has always been Emma (she’s so adorable) and my fave ship is Emma x Ethan in the Girls on a Mission iteration.
3. Barbie Movies
Not sure if all the movies are pictured above, but there’s a good portion of them. I admit, I haven’t seen all of the Barbie movies (especially the good old classics mainly due to animation that did not age well so sorry) and did not really become a fan until later than most little girls. However, I still find the movies to be very enjoyable and cute. I think a lot of my affinity comes from many familiar Canadian voice actors being in most of the movies and I find it fun trying to pick out familiar voices.
A few of my personal favorite movies are “Princess Charm School” (it’s the first Barbie movie I ever watched with one of my best friends), “The Twelve Dancing Princesses” (so many voices and characters to listen to and try and remember), and “Mariposa” (I am rather partial to the voice of Chiara Zanni and loved her playing Barbie).
4. Ever After High
It is so sad that Ever After High ended after Epic Winter. I really wish we got to see more. I loved the imaginative twist on fairytale characters and the whole “facing your destiny” storyline. The princesses, knights, dragons, and wonderland were all great components as a lover of fantasy. Disney Descendants ain’t got nothing on Ever After. It was a very creative show and it was interesting to see all the characters that would pop up.
A few of my favorite characters are Rosabella Beauty, Ginger Breadhouse, and Lizzie Hearts. Call me basic but I really do like the ship Darabella (obviously the execution of it could’ve been better but I still like it.)
5. Miraculous Ladybug
Simply put, this show is a mess. Miraculous Ladybug barely made the list only because I have fond memories of it. I’m not caught up on any recent events and admittedly quit watching it after season 3 or 4 (I don’t exactly remember). The show had potential and many amazing fanworks, but after a while, the episodes just get repetitive. I still like the earlier seasons before things got too messy. As a lover of side characters, I also wish they fleshed out the side characters a bit more instead of keeping on creating more and more side characters. I still occasionally pop in to see what is going on and apparently Nathalie is dead?! Idk what’s going on and I love looking at spoilers with no context because it makes the show all the more funny.
My fave character list includes Alya Césaire, Nathalie Sancoeur, and Juleka Couffaine and I’m partial to the ship DJWifi.
6. Monster High
Since I was a fan of Ever After High, it was only inevitable that I would eventually become a fan of Monster High. It took a while but I eventually did fall in love with the show. And I fell hard. All the characters are so unique and while I absolutely love all the generation 1 content, I do not completely hate the g3 series. I loved the message of standing out yet belonging at Monster High, freaky flaws and all. The animation is very dated yet endearingly nostalgic at the same time. I love all the different twists on various monster creatures.
My favorite characters list gets pretty extensive, as I love g1 and g3 Abbey Bominable (I always love an ice queen), along with g1/g3 Cleo De Nile (bc she’s your typical mean girl/diva but truly cares for her friends), Robecca Steam (her steampunk aesthetic and little accent are adorable), Deuce Gorgon (a kind yet popular jockish character is rare), Jinafire Long (Chinese dragon is always a win), and Rochelle Goyle (she’s just neat).
Fave ships = Cleuce (CleoxDeuce) and AbbeyxHeath. I just love them okay!
7. Lolirock
I believe I discovered this show coming off of Storm Hawks and Steven Universe so the crystal motif and everything was already an intriguing concept for me (plus familiar Canadian voice actors drew me in). I just love the trio of girls trying to “secretly” protect earth with sparkles and spells while putting up the front of being a girl band (the songs are very catchy by the way if you can get past an ungodly amount of auto tune). The episodes gave me vibes similar to Miraculous Ladybug but somewhat better with less convoluted characters. Overall, it’s a very bright energetic show and I wish they would’ve delved into the backstories of the other princesses a bit more instead of focusing on Iris all the time. Here’s to hoping they eventually do come out with season 3. All the current episodes are on YouTube.
My favorite characters are the sisters Izira and Talia. They have so much power and the show needs to actually do them justice.
8. Mysticons
This one is definitely lesser known than most on this list. I found it shortly after LoliRock since it has similar features and characters. It’s a very simple show with simple characters but I am fond of it still (and I’m pretty sure it made me cry at one point. I don’t remember when but I remember something about it made me emotional). The fantasy magic of the world was definitely a big win for me. I think the creators did a decent job at world building. It’s your typical prophesied heroes must save the world from certain destruction but I found the show overall enjoyable and cute with a nice dose of found family thrown in.
My top favorite characters are Zarya Moonwolf and Emerald Goldenbraid.
9. DC Super Hero Girls
I started out as a G1 fan when it was still coming out and became a fan of the reboot as well. It was interesting to all these wonderful kickbutt superheroes placed in a high school -esque setting. The original series was very average with their shorts but it was such fun to see what characters would pop up to help (I even will tolerate and enjoy the LEGO specials). The reboot had better design and animation. I am sad it didn’t get a chance to run longer. My only qualm was that some characters had such a drastic change from their backstory and original character development that it moved from being whimsical and imaginative to simply keeping the name and having an entirely different character. *cough* Jessica *cough* They don’t get that she was such a powerful Green Lantern because she was bold but because most of the time she was scared out of mind due to her past trauma but still acted and pushed through the fear to save people.
Rant aside, my fave character is Jessica Cruz despite the reboot overhauling her character and erasing her backstory.
10. She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
Not necessarily my favorite glittery girly series I’ve watched but definitely an enjoyable series. True to my usual form, I unfortunately did not end up caring for most of the main plot and characters. However, the idea of this show was fun nonetheless and it had its nice moments, so I’m glad it got a decent number of seasons. The magic, weaponry, and elemental powers drew me to this show. I wish they delved a bit deeper into the true effects and trauma that fighting a war would have on all of the characters as they are leaders of their respective kingdoms.
My favorite characters include Entrapta (little nerdy characters are almost always a win for me), Mermista (Vella Lovell was perfect for voicing her and her character design is nice), Netossa (another awesome blue character; if anyone’s seen Six: The Musical, does she vaguely remind you of Catherine Parr?)
Bonus: Rainbow High
An interesting premise though it ultimately falls flat for me because I am not a fashion-oriented person in the slightest. However, I still like the show and all the drama that comes with it. I just overall find it hilarious to watch the squabbles that happen because everyone is just so high strung. (Why do all the guy characters literally look the exact same with that same stupid little hairstyle?) XD
Fave characters are Ainsley Slater and Jade Hunter.
Bonus: God’s School
Greek mythology! Need I say more? This is such an imaginative show. It is even more amazing considering one guy does all the animation. The webisodes that are out are great and I definitely recommend watching them on YouTube. Zeus looks like Disney Hercules and I find that hilarious. All the character designs for the gods are so awesome and I love the details that help indicate who they are. Ignore the fact that over half of them are related in some form or another and everything is fine.
Fave definitely has to be Athena! (…bad*** in the arena. Unmatched witty and queen of the best strategies we’ve seen.)
Bonus: Tinkerbell
These are just cute adventures. I wish the series could’ve continued so we could’ve gotten movies highlighting each of the fairies.
My fave is Silvermist.
Bonus: Steven Universe
I personally enjoyed this show and know it had a large fan base so I don’t get why so many people are going back and hating on it so fervently. It’s a flawed show like any but it still has it fine points and I have a soft spot for it. I heavily debated on whether this qualified for a magical girl show but I think it does. It’s nice seeing Steven grow alongside the gems and it’s a good show to put on in the background.
My favorites have to be Garnet and Sapphire.
Honorable mentions that I never fully watched but seem nice:
My Little Pony - I’m disappointed in myself for never getting into this show because it has all the right points for me to like it, including great Canadian voice actors and magic and ponies. I have watched some episodes and enjoyed them but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sit through and binge the entire show.
LEGO Elves - watched some but I never got truly immersed.
Totally Spies! - never really gave it a go but it seems okay.
Winx Club - I tried to like it but the characters just didn’t hit for me.
W.I.T.C.H. - watched the first few episodes but nothing made me want to continue.
#ever after high#monster high#rainbow high#lolirock#lego friends#miraculous ladybug#mlb#eah#mh#horseland#mysticons#she ra 2018#she ra#she ra spop#dc super hero girls#dcshg19#barbie#lego friends girls on a mission#god’s school#tinkerbell#steven universe
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Asks under the cut (p3)
I feel like Michael has been showing how done with it he is since he started making a point to look as miserable as possible with her and to make it more blatant, how glowing he looked with DT instead. I also feel like that photoshoot was meant to be the beginning of finding her a career so they can end her bearding one. So she has some career so she isn’t dependant on him anymore. But that didn’t work out so she started clinging to him again. It’s a sad situation for everyone. I’d never want to have anyone this dependent on me so I can’t get rid of them, and I’d never want to be a woman this dependant on a man.
That thread is disgusting. Not only half of them have zero idea wtf they’re talking about, like usual on Twitter, but the absolute disgust leaking from it is pure homophobia. The same people feel like they can squeak over everything the ladies do, and can ask about those relationships, but anything about the men deserves disgust and how embarrassing it is. It’s fucked up. I am against asking questions like this but it wasn’t THAT bad, and I hardly blame the person who asked considering they asked AL who will respond with crap like “oh my loud parrot was a preparation for dating MS” yeah you know what, ask her whatever you want. She’s embarrassing. Besides 1. She didn’t need to answer. 2. That wasn’t a back off face, they’re just projecting their feelings yet again. It was a confused/thinking about it and then “hm” as she looked away. Like her reaction was actually quite funny because it looked like a “oh fuck he does” realisation. No need to project all feelings of hatred on it.
They literally told everyone they’re one big family and DT and MS are partners/boyfriends/husbands - if people think it’s disgusting then that’s something they have to deal with. I don’t think any of these people have the mental capacity to consider poly or anything but most typical relationships out there. Which is so ironic because this is supposed to be super open minded fandom… yet they freak the second someone says so I think two men might love each other. Please.
I always felt a little “huh” about that moment because of how serious he is during that. Not the usual joke way you would expect but a borderline statement. There’s so many moments during those years where you expect them to take the piss out of each other but they’re really serious about what they say.
I think it’s kind of looking up to her because GT does it at least a little better than her. GT does a lot of questionable things to me but majority of people just see the perfect image she created on the surface. She worked very hard for people to forget how fucked up the beginnings of this relationship were and now feels confident enough to call her kids drunk accidents and get away with it. But that is the fandom’s fault who sucks up everything she says and won’t dare to criticise. And she knows that. Well until she finally touched a subject that struck the nerve but while some chased her off, others were screaming queen you can do no wrong - see this is why they think they can do bare minimum and people will suck it up anyway.
But you’re right, generally her arrangement with DT works better (mostly, because she posted a video where he was complaining too, or pics where he’s done with everything, or her weird selfies where she looks into camera and he’s suppose to be cuddling to her which always gives me the cringe, or the “mine” even though the night was about him) and she’s better at support when she feels like it hence probably why people have more warmth for her. Majority of people just want DT content and they don’t care how or what it is.
But generally people who see through bullshit point out both GTs and ALs missteps. And MS and DT when they do some dumb shit. It’s the best fans who won’t dare to criticise anything.
To me it looks like MS is harder work because he’s done with shit so he won’t be pulling cute selfies etc to help the bullshit. But DT is easier to make feel guilty (omg I want to be my wife for a day to see how she deals with me… bruh you ok?) so he will do a stupid Morrisons video, take selfies and cling to her like he’s less than her on HIS big days. And constantly work his ass off to finally have her accomplish something instead of finally giving up. It’s weird and sad to me. And explains why he shines so much with MS who actually lets him be who he is and compliments him and loves him openly instead of trying to make him feel less.
Oh yeah season three will be a nepo show, big time!
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can i req a yandere alphabet with kenny? :D
Yandere Kenny Alphabet 🧡🩸❤️❤️❤️
Warnings: Kidnapping, lil physical abuse, Blood.
Gender: Neutral
🧡 Kenny Mccormick 🔶
Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?
He definitely gives you lots of affection that's for sure.
Lots of kisses, I mean LOTS...
He will kiss you a whole bunch.
On your lips, neck, hands, and etc.
Better get ready, because he will be the type to keep you locked in his embrace for a longgggg time :)))))
Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?
He doesn't like messy kills because blood will get all over his parka and he knows that his family is poor so they can barely afford a shower.
So he prefers to kill his victims by burning them alive or just shooting them from a far distance where the blood won't get on him.
Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?
No I don't think he would mock you.
He literally worships you so why would he do that?
He wants you to be loved, not degraded.
Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?
Yep, he would kidnap you take you to a certain and mysterious place where nobody will ever find you.
He ain't letting you go anytime soon, you can't leave and he won't let it happen.
Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?
Love at first sight exists in his book.
He has a really unhealthy obsession with you. He would die to do anything for you, to make sure that you're his and nobody's.
Just love him back and this will all be easier.
Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?
He would be pretty sad and might wonder what he did wrong to make you this upset.
He will try to get you to calm down, he would never hurt his s/o.
Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?
Oh good heavens no!
Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?
You lashed out at him and called him a creepy freak for kidnapping you.
Are you sure It was a good idea to do that? Because now you are going to get it.
When you wake up in the morning, pain will spread all over your body and some of your bones will be fractured, due to Kenny pushing you down the stairs.
He said he wouldn't hurt you, but you really crossed the line when you lashed out at him
Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?
He doesn't really know what he wants his future to be with you, but maybe he would want to move away from south park and start a new fresh life with you.
Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?
Kenny is probably really good at controlling his jealousy or just hiding it in general.
But If it gets too worse, he isn't afraid to snatch you away from the person before coming back at night to kill them.
Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?
He acts so cute and needy around you most of the time <3
Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?
He would probably ask you out in a normal way before he puts his plan into action.
He's the type of person to take things slow before extending it further.
Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?
No, he doesn't want anyone meddling in his way of claiming you as his. Even If he has to go further down to keep everything a secret from the world.
Naughty: How would they punish their darling?
He won't punish you unless you get on his bad side.
Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?
A lot
You're his and he wants you all to himself, he's madly in love with you, don't you get it?
Patience: How patient are they with their darling?
Patient as a plum
Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?
If you leave, he won't stop looking until he finds you. And when he does, you're going to be secured even further, because it seems you can't be trusted to stay where you're supposed to be.
If you died, man will literally try to look for ways to make you immortal just like him. If it doesn't work, he is just going to have to accept the fact you're dead forever.
Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?
Parka says NO
Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?
He's the poorest kid in south park and he does sometimes get made fun of for that.
But when you and him talked for the first time, you never made fun of him and that struck something inside his heart that made it beat faster.
Everything about you is just so amazing to him, and he wants to treasure every moment he gets to spend with you!
Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?
He doesn't like seeing you cry, so he will do anything to make you feel better.
Heck, he will pull down his parka hood so he can kiss your tears away.
Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?
No
Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?
You can probably plant a money trap on the ground with leaves over it.
And if you're lucky, Kenny might fall for it and get stuck which will give you time to escape.
Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?
He will If you push him to his limits.
Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?
Yes, he does worship you. But only when he's acting all needy and such.
Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?
2 weeks (he's literally madly in love with you)
Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?
No!
This request was in my inbox for so long and I haven't even finished it! I'm sorry 😭😭😭
#south park x reader#south park#kenny mccormick x reader#yandere south park x reader#yandere#yandere kenny mccormick x reader#kenny mccormick#southpark sp#southpark blog#sp x reader#x reader#southpark x y/n#yandere headcanons#southpark scenarios#southpark headcanons
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Hello lovely! I love your writing!! I was wondering if you could do a 001 fic where the reader is another one of Brenner’s subjects at Hawkins Lab with Henry/001. They mutually have a crush on each other but of course they can’t really act on their feelings, besides quick interactions in the dark corners of the hallway out of camera view. BUT then they get called into Brenner’s office one day and told that the lab is going to conduct an experimental program, to breed the most powerful subjects for the next generation, and they will be the first to begin it since they’re the oldest (obviously both would be like 18 or 19 years old!) and they finally get to get it on 🤭 but definitely starts out kind of awkward since this would be both of their first time hehe.
ugh this idea>>> also i barely ever get Henry/001/Peter requests and it makes me kinda sad becasue he's literally my favourite jamie character (jace, i am sorry.)
002- Henry/001/Peter x Reader
summary: in the request :)
warnings: NSFW!! contains smut, this was also written at like 3am
notes: this is 4.5k words?? i feel like it could've been better though haha, BUT ALSO JAMIE SHAVED?? THE BEARD IS GONE??!!?!?! (but never forgotten <3)
You’ve known Henry for the majority of your life, or at least the half of your life that you remember. You had both been taken from your homes, your deaths faked while you were put under the care and control of a certain doctor and given new names, although they weren’t names. They were numbers. Yours was 002, Henry’s was 001.
When you first arrived at the lab, you were shaken up, you refused to talk to anybody or even interact with the other boy. However, you soon learnt that you had a lot more in common than you had hoped. You had powers, it explained why you could see glimpses into the future, predict things and guess what someone was thinking- although you knew now that it wasn’t guessing. It was all true. You had believed that in the first 9 years of your life that these things were all ‘in your head’, as your father told you when you asked him if he was seeing other women, cheating on your mother. You refused to believe there was something unique or special about you.
As the years passed, your powers grew stronger, and you also began to form a friendship with the other boy in the Lab, Henry. He was a year or 2 older than you, you never knew for sure. The first time he ever spoke to you was when he warned you about the Doctor tattooing you, he showed you his sore, red arm with 001 written in black ink. He told you to try to stay calm, he got punished for moving about in his seat when the pain got too much. You thanked him, and from that day he made a promise to himself- he promised he would keep you safe and that one day he would escape with you, so you could both live the life you deserved.
As more years went by, you and Henry continued to grow closer. More children also began to arrive at the lab, none of them were over the age of 6. Doctor Brenner ordered them to call him Papa, you and Henry had quite rightly refused to call him this. He began lessons, helping these children to use and build their powers, to grow them stronger. You and Henry would also attend these lessons, Brenner would often ask one of you to help the children, to give them advice- but most of them were only 5, they struggled to understand. This resulted in punishments, which you and Henry had to leave the room for.
As you got older, you realised your feelings towards Henry were more than what you should feel for friends. You had a crush on him. Upon realising this, you started to behave differently around him. You would blush when he felt the cut on your cheek, wishing his soft fingers would caress your cheek to pull you in for a kiss instead, or when you be alone with him in the Rainbow Room you would try to keep a little distance and appear engaged in an activity so he wouldn’t try talking to you, you would only stumble on your words as you spoke back.
He picked up pretty quickly that you liked him in this way, he couldn’t help it with his powers, could he? He could use and control his better than you could, meaning he could read your thoughts, whilst you struggled to read his. However, you liked it better like this, you knew that you and Henry would probably die in the lab before you could leave, meaning you’d rather spend your in-between years as friends and not risk the shame of rejection.
However, you needed to tell someone about this crush- it was driving you insane. Martha, the nurse, was the only person in this place you could trust, besides Henry, so you opened up to her one day when she was treating your most recent wounds before performing an overall health and wellness check as it was leading up to your 18th birthday. For your 16th birthday, you and Nurse Martha spent an afternoon in a sex education lesson, so you wondered what was in store for your 18th. Peter said nothing special happens, that it’s just like any other.
However, your 18th birthday was one to remember, it seemed even better than your 7th (which you could only vaguely remember, you received a dollhouse that you had been begging for all year). You spent the majority of the day in lessons with Brenner and other doctors and scientists, but the evening made up for the last 9 years you had spent in the Lab.
There was a knock on your door, you expected it to be Nurse Martha, but when you opened it you were met with…
“Henry?” You gasped, poking your head out the door to check the halls before grabbing his arm and pulling him into the room, “what are you doing? If you get caught you’ll-”
“If I get caught then at least it was for a good reason,” he smiles, pulling something out from under his black jumper, what had he been hiding? “Happy birthday.”
He handed it over to you, it was wrapped up in some tissue? A napkin?
“Cake?!” Your eyes widen, and then soften as you look up at Henry. You remembered from your years before the Lab that birthdays were usually celebrated with cake, yet Brenner never allowed it on birthdays. “Where did you get this from?” You ask, sitting down on your bed.
“Stole it from the kitchens, one of the ‘children’ caused a fire on the south side of the building today and the staff were made to evacuate.” He said, yet (for the first time) you knew what he was thinking, you knew he was lying.
“You started a fire? To get me some cake?” You chuckled in disbelief.
“Well, you deserved something to make you happy. I wish I could’ve gotten you a gift.” He said, looking down at his lap, you could tell he was thinking about something else, you couldn’t quite work out what it was.
“You can think of the cake as a gift!” You said, smiling as you picked at a bit of it before taking a bite, it was delicious. “Anyway I like spending time with you, and we don’t get to see each other as much as we used to.”
“That’s because we’re at different levels, y/n. I’ve known about my powers and how to use them since I was young, you only discovered them in there. Brenner doesn’t believe you’re as… powerful as I am, but I know you can prove him wrong, can’t you?” Henry’s eyes fell on you as he asked the question, you nodded your head, telling him you will prove him wrong, that you’ll make him feel stupid for ever thinking that way about you, to which Henry whispered a small “that’s my girl.”
“What did you say?” You asked, feeling the heat rush to your face.
“I didn’t say anything,” he smirked. You must have read his mind again. “Can I tell you something?” Henry asked.
“Of course.” You said, finishing the last bit of cake, folding the piece of tissue up and placing it on your drawers.
“Do you remember when you first arrived at this place? I was finally happy to have someone else with me, but you were too afraid to even talk to me. I spent years trying to get you to trust me, you may not have realised that, but I wanted to be your friend. Before I was brought here, I didn’t have any friends, I spent most of my time by myself and that’s how I wanted it to be, but it was just so lonely and cold here, I wished I spent my time differently. I knew it was too late by then, but then you arrived. I knew, given the situation, that you would most likely shy away from me, attempt to escape, but I wanted to try. I wanted to know that I at least tried to make a friend, but I feel like I’ve done more than that,” he said, placing his hand on your knee, “I’ve realised in these last months that I… like you. More than a friend should like a friend. And I won’t lie to you, I know you feel like this about me too, but I wished I would have heard it from your mouth rather than your thoughts,” he chuckled, his eyes coming up to meet yours.
“C-can you kiss me?” You ask, stupidly stumbling on your words as the feeling of his hand on your bare skin and his eyes looking into yours became too much.
“It would be my pleasure.” He smiled softly, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek.
You were the first to lean in, needing to know if Henry’s lips were as soft as you imagined- and they were. Your breath was snatched from your lungs as his lips pressed into yours. He could taste cake from your lips, causing him to smile into the kiss before carefully pulling back. You didn’t want to stop, it took everything inside you not to pull him back.
“Thank you.” You whispered, watching as he quickly stood up, adjusting his clothes before grabbing the door handle.
“I should go now, so I don’t get in any more trouble with Brenner. But I hope we can do this again… soon.”
“Me too,” you smiled, still trying to process the fact that Henry had admitted he liked you back and kissed you in the space of 5 minutes, “I hope you get back safely. Good night, Henry.”
“Good night, love.”
—————————♡—————————
“002?” A knock at your door distracted you from the drawing you were working on, you placed the pencil down on your desk and made your way to your door, opening to be greeted with Nurse Martha, who had Henry by her side.
“Hello.” You chuckled nervously, “is everything okay?”
“Yes! I was asked by Doctor Brenner to collect you and 001 and to take you to his office, he would like to tell you both about his newest… project.”
“I’ll be two seconds,” you say, rushing over to your bed to grab your jumper, throwing it on to cover your tank top before returning the door, shutting it as you follow Martha and Henry down the halls.
You gave Henry a glance and in your mind you asked him ‘do you know what this is about?’, he then looked back over at you and shook his head, ‘no, he hasn’t said anything about a project.’
“Here we are,” Nurse Martha smiled as she knocked on the door to Brenner’s office, “don’t be nervous, sweetheart.” She said to you, patting your shoulder.
“Ah, thank you, Martha, I can take it from here.” Brenner said with a cold smile as he held his office door open, inviting you and Henry inside as the nurse turned around and headed back down the halls.
You and Henry sit down when instructed, on the chairs opposite the Doctor’s desk. He opened a cabinet, pulling out a folder and placing it in front of you and Henry as he sat at his desk.
“You’re probably wondering why you’re here,” Brenner mused, opening up the folder, looking at the two of you as if you were supposed to know, but you both shook your head. “Over the years, I have worked with several doctors and scientists to try to find a way of combining both of your powers, seeing as the children here have only inherited percentages of your abilities from the testing we have done. But there may be a way to go about this that could potentially be successful, as you two are the oldest and possess the the most unique abilities-”
“What are you trying to say?” Henry asked, his eyebrows furrowing. “Do you need to take more blood samples?”
Doctor Brenner thought about his next words carefully, not wanting to scare either of you off with his proposal. He folded his arms in front of him on the desk and leaned forward.
“To put it simply, we want you two to begin the next generation, to reproduce, to-”
You interrupted him by choking on air as you finally realised what he meant. He wanted you and Henry to have a child together, in hopes that this child will inherit both of your powers and abilities.
“And when do you want this to happen?” Henry asked, his voice avoiding any signs of emotion as he looked into the eyes of the Doctor.
“Nurse Martha has been tracking 002’s menstrual cycle, and this week would be perfect for successful conception. Maybe even today?” Brenner said with a joyous smile. Of course he’d be happy, he won’t be the one to carry this damned baby for nine months. “So, is that okay with you?” He asked, as if you and Henry had a choice.
“Yes, Doctor.” You replied in unison.
“Wonderful!” He clasped his hands together, “you may do… it… in either of your rooms, we haven’t got any spare rooms at the moment- and I believe it may be helpful to have some sort of comfort.” He said before walking over to the office door, holding it open for the two of you.
—————————♡—————————
You and Henry walked in silence, you had non-verbally decided to go to your room- or at least that is where you were both heading. The silence between the two of you was unbearable, you needed to say something-
“So, you are definitely comfortable with this, right?” Henry asked, his fingertips brushing against yours as you walked side by side.
“I guess so, we can’t risk saying no-”
“If you don’t want to do this then we won’t.” Henry stated, confidently.
You thought for a moment, you wanted to do it, you wanted to feel Henry close to you like this, it’s what your body has been aching for for the last month- when he would send a small smirk your way when he caught your eye you would feel your lower half tingling, when he would place his hands on your waist as he moved past you when you were sent to retrieve something from the cramped storage cupboard you wanted nothing more than to push yourself up against him, when he-
“I’ll take that as you being okay with this then?” He smirked, wiping the small drip of blood from his nose. Bastard. Your thoughts were private!
“Yeah,” you smiled, finally arriving at your room. You took a deep breath before opening your door. Henry followed you in and carefully shut the door behind him. “So, how do you want to do this?”
Henry gave you a gentle smile as he slowly moved closer to you, his hand cupping your cheek like it had done a few weeks ago, when he had kissed you on your birthday. He leaned down slowly, your noses brushing as your lips touched. You run your fingers through his hair before pulling him closer, catching his lips in a sloppy, clearly inexperienced kiss.
His free hand rested on your hip, pulling your body closer to his, so close you could feel heat radiating from him. He kissed you hungrily, like this was his last chance to show you how much you mean to him, even if he can’t properly tell you.
He moved his hands to the bottom of your jumper, tugging on it, ‘let me take it off’.
And you allowed him, breaking free from the kiss for a mere 5 seconds made you feel empty, cold, like a piece of a puzzle was missing, but when Henry had taken your jumper off and let it drop to the floor, his lips crashed into yours once more.
‘Your turn’, you told him. You loved how you could communicate with his like this, not having to take your lips off of each other to speak.
Your hands fumbled about as you found the bottom of his jumper, beginning to lift it up. He took over, breaking the kiss once more as he dropped it to the floor, now lying in a pile with yours. His hands now played with the waistband of your grey joggers as he gave you a puzzling look- a look full of lust, desire, want, but also love. He slipped his fingers into the waistband and began to drag them down your hips.
“Henry,” you whispered. He stopped immediately and looked at you, scanning your face for any signs of fear. “I just… I wanted to tell you… I don’t know how to do this.” You admit, your face flushing a deep red.
“Neither do I,” he tells you, “why don’t we figure it out together, hm?” He raises his eyebrows, continuing to pull your joggers down, slowly revealing your underwear.
“Okay.” You say, smiling as you stand awkwardly, not knowing what to do with your hands as he undresses you.
When the material pools at your feet, you step out it, now left in your underwear, bra and a thin tank top. Henry was still fully dressed. He caught on quickly and rid himself of his t-shirt, letting that fall on to the pile of discarded clothes that lay on the floor. His hands moved down to push his joggers down his legs, leaving him in just his white boxers. You took that as a sign and removed your top, leaving you in your white bra and panties.
“You’re beautiful.” Henry said, looking at your body, “I never thought something could be so beautiful.”
“So are you.” You said, placing your hand on his chest, noticing the scars on his skin that were undoubtedly caused by a certain doctor. “What do we do next?”
“...we get naked.” Henry said, his hand coming up to play with your bra strap, “is that okay?”
“That’s okay.” You tell him.
‘Can I take this off?’ he asks you, his eyes finding yours as you nod your head. His hands slide around you, to your back to find the clasp of your bra. He immediately notices that this would be more difficult than expected, so he gets you to turn around, with your back facing him.
He easily unclasped your bra, carefully sliding the straps off of your arms before taking the material and letting it fall on the floor.
He could feel his blood rushing down to his cock as he thinks about how you’re standing braless in front of him. He tells himself not to worry about what you would think as you turn back around to see him hard through his boxers, that was meant to happen, that’s what needs to happen, right?
“You can turn around now.” Henry says, swallowing thickly.
Your hands cover your boobs as you turn back around to face him, but he quickly removes them, telling you not to be shy. Then your eyes finally catch what was between his thighs.
“Henry… is that…?” Your eyes were full of curiosity as you stared at his erection.
“Yes, I expect you’ve never seen one like this before.” He says, you shake your head.
“I’ve only seen what was in t-the anatomy books.” You tell him, and he smiles softly. He feels like he has a slight advantage here, having heard his classmates at school talk about sex all the time, he felt repulsed by it- but that was before he met you.
He finally takes off his boxers, you watch carefully as his cock leaks precum, your hand unexpectedly reaching to wipe it off with a finger, causing Henry’s breath to hitch.
“Can I?” You ask him, ‘can I make you feel good?’
Henry nods his head, taking your hand in his and wrapping your fingers around his length before guiding it up and down at an achingly slow pace. He bites his lip, holding back a groan from escaping his lips as you quicken the pace.
“S-stop,” he warns you, “I want the first time I cum to be with you.”
You nod your head and remove your hand, not knowing what his words meant.
“Can I make you feel good?” He asks, hooking a finger into the waistband of your underwear.
“Please…” You whimper, “when I’m with you I feel things down there, what does that mean, Henry?” You ask.
“It means you need my fingers, darling.” He whispers, pushing your last remaining garment down and off of your body, revealing your cunt to him. “Fuck…” he groans, getting down on to his knees to look at you closer, he had never seen this part of the female body up close before.
He dips a finger into you, delighted to find you were already wet for him. He moved his finger up along your slit, searching for your clit. He knew that would make you feel good, and he was desperate to hear you moan for him.
“Oh my-” Your knees buckle when his finger grazes over the nub, he smirks, replacing his finger with his thumb as he rubs circles where you needed him.
He continues to examine you, two fingers from his other hand spread your folds apart and he watches you pulse, a sign that you wanted more.
He stands back up and removes his hands from you, placing one on your waist.
“Lie down,” he tells you, guiding you backwards towards the bed.
You lay down, your head against the pillows, your arms by your head and your legs spread slightly. He was happy to see you were comfortable around him.
He follows you, kneeling between your legs, spreading them a tiny bit further. He brings his hand back to your heat, teasing your entrance with his fingertip.
“Tell me if it’s too much.” He says, sliding his index finger into you slowly, earning a pleasured gasp from you. “Does that feel good?” He asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he eases it back out before pushing back in. He believes you were ready for a second one to follow, so his thumb rubs your clit as he slides his middle finger in too.
“Feels too good, Henry.” You moan, a lazy smile on your lips as you look up at him.
He replies with a satisfied ‘hm’ as he continues his actions. He feels the way your walls pulse around his fingers, and basically hears your heart pounding in your chest, he knows you’re close.
Slowly, he stops what he was doing, leaning down to pepper kisses on your thighs, even placing a delicate kiss over your clit.
“I think you’re ready now, sweetheart.” He says, moving up a little on the bed so your hips were in line with his.
“Okay.” You say, not knowing what he thought you were ready for, but agreeing anyway.
He took his cock and swiped off the precum that had leaked from the tip and swiped it over your clit, making your hips shuffle as he lined himself up with you, slowly inching his cock inside of you.
The pain was hot and red, it took you by surprise and you found yourself clawing at the bedsheets. Henry noticed this and took your hands in his, moving them to his back. You didn’t want to hurt him but as he pushed in further, your nails began to dig into his skin, sure to draw blood.
“You’re doing so well.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Does it hurt?” He asked, although he knew the answer before you nodded your head.
When he was fully inside you, you let out a whimper. You had never realised you could feel this way before, so full. You loved it.
He didn’t move for a few moments, until he felt you were ready, when you caught your breath and your walls stopped clamping around him. That was when he began to gently rock his hips, thrusting in and out of you.
Sweat beaded on Henry’s forehead as he tried his best to hold himself back from rutting into you at a faster pace, but as your legs wrapped around his waist, he began to quicken his pace.
“Oh my… Henry, faster!” You panted.
He did as you said, not holding back anymore. After weeks of wanting nothing more than this moment, Henry couldn’t believe what was happening. Surely this wasn’t real- but as your nails clawed at his back, he knew it most definitely was real.
“I love you.” The words slipped from Henry’s lips and caught you by surprise. You didn’t say anything, not knowing what to say. Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you, your lips crashing into his.
You suddenly became aware of how he felt inside you, the spots he hit deep inside your body that you would have never known were there, but especially how good it felt.
“Henry… I feel something… In my tummy-”
“Let it go, darling.” He said, his hand sliding to your lower stomach, just below your belly button, and pushing down. The pressure resulted in even more pleasure, you felt so good, you never wanted this feeling to leave.
Suddenly, a white wave of ecstasy crashed over you, spreading through your whole body. You almost felt euphoric.
“Gonna… gonna cum inside you- fuck!” He groaned, his thrusts growing slower and sloppier, and then you felt something hot rush inside of you.
Henry remained above you, his arms placed either side of your body to support him. He was trying to catch his breath before he stood back up and continued with his day- but you pulled him down, making him put all his weight onto you.
You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close to you as you both came down from your highs, worried that if you let go of him, he would leave and you would never speak about this again.
When you realised he was still inside of you, your walls involuntarily clenched around him again, causing him to groan into the crook of your neck. You whispered a soft apology before you ran your fingers through his soft hair.
“I love you too.” You finally confessed.
He lifted his head up, giving you a smile before kissing the corner of your mouth.
“Our baby isn’t going to grow up inside this place,” Henry told you, “I have a plan, I’m going to escape- and I’m going to take you with me.”
#peter ballard smut#jamie campbell bower#henry creel smut#001 smut#stranger things#henry creel x reader#peter ballard x reader#jamie campbell bower x reader#henry creel#i dont like how this turned out
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Any new headcanons brewing in your head after seeing Alycia at the AACTA
Not... entirely
But I've had thoughts. Bear with me.
I'm not even remotely the person to write something like this at all, but it definitely did have me thinking of a SORT OF SHOEH-esque type fic. Something involving them being closeted and in Hollywood. Getting their flowers for their talent and being in love, but having to keep it quiet their entire careers. I've seen some fics along this line here and there, but inevitably in the fic, one or both eventually come out on stage or something.
Which is great! That's a lovely and hopeful ending.
But also....
Not entirely realistic.
Or even half as heartwrenching.
"Well yeah jesus fuck, why do you want sad shit Andi, why are you always such a glutton for punishment and literary pain?"
Well I'll tell you why: cuz... shut up
Idk it just got me thinking of Clexa as two Hollywood starlets on kind of differing ends of the spectrum of Hollywood that in the public eye are generally never really thought about together.
Lexa tends to do more gritty work, a lot more indie films. Dark threaded moody pieces and emotional roles, not generally thought of as box office fodder, but pretty much always a contender at awards season. Sleeper hits, you get me. Things like that. She definitely has a well known name, but she's selective in her work and that gains her a lot of respect with fans, even if they have to sometimes wait 2-3 years between projects. Because whatever she signs on for, it's pretty much always really fucking good. Whereas Clarke is more of a mainstream girly. She does a decently broad spectrum of films, but they're by and large always ones with bigger budgets, bigger release dates, more screens. It's not that they're not quality pictures, it's just that Clarke likes to work a broad range of things. One year she's in a comedy, the next a period piece, the next action. There's no real labeling her career.
And most importantly, they're both very, very straight.
At least, their personas are.
Alexandria is a smoky eyed femme fatale who leaves all the men eating out of the palm of her hand. Very "Look but don't touch" attitude that adds to her allure, to her mystery, despite her always being attached to leading man's arm. Miss Griffin is the picture of buxom Hollywood glam that every guy has on the List. Known for leaving a string of broken hearted men in her wake with little more than a cheek kiss-stained in signature red lipstick
Lexa and Clarke though?
Lexa and Clarke are two friends who have been deeply in love and committed to each other for the better part of 5 years.
They love each other in secret because that's what they feel like they have to do. They have two seperate houses with two separate addresses, and only one bed they actually sleep in.
It only really burns on the big nights, which I think would be an interesting oneshot. Just a glimpse into their life and what it feels like in that moment. The night when all their work and their sacrifices are being honored. Because even though, yes, they do play the part of friends and manage to sit near each other, it's not the same. It's not the same when they can't get ready together or even show up in the same car. When they have to remind themselves not to lean into each other too often, or even reach for the others hand to calm their nerves.
When one wins, they walk up alone without a hug or kiss from the only person who actually matters. They thank their families and their friends and their management that they can barely stand half the time, and remind themselves to smile like it's the happiest moment of their life even though at least half it all feels like a lie. Because yeah, they get lonely in the months when projects and shooting schedules pull them to opposite sides of the globe... but somehow those months never feel quite as lonely as being in a room filled with people who act like they adore you, while the love of your life sits quietly with her own "date" half an aisle away
#anon#*loads shotgun* i will block any Elycia shippers or G*ylors on sight I'm sorry but I will ಠ_ಠ this ISN'T about that#that pic of Alycia looking at the stage just made me think of like a oneshot#of one of then having to watch the other win their award and being so proud and so in love#and so utterly unable to do anything with all those feelings in the moment#just the swells of conflicting emotion as they come as they watch their lover and friend and confidant being celebrated#and knowing this is what they both chose and both want#and knowing they'll have their chance when they get home#but in the moment#everything just feeling like a lump in the back of the throat#starlet au
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