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mrprettywhenhecries · 9 months

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i don't think you notice (what you did to me) [b.h]

one. | the new arrival

Billy Hargrove ✘ Win Lewis (OC)

⇾ w.c. 2.6k words ⇾ warning(s). canon x oc pairing, suggestive themes, not much this chapter

⇾ a/n: I know I’m a little late to the Billy train, but better late than never, amIright? And thank goodness because this fixation has broken my writer’s block. I have some grand plans for this fic, spanning the events of seasons 2 and 3 and I’m super excited about it. Also decided to just be super self indulgent and keep this fic oc x canon instead of reader insert because it’s been too damn long since I just had fun. Without further ado, please enjoy! 🩷

[ masterlist ] [ win lewis bio ]

It had only been three months since Win Lewis came to Hawkins–a wholesome rural town in the heartland of Indiana–only three months since her father uprooted her entire life for a new job, a new start. It was bad enough that their ‘new start’ had to take place at the beginning of her senior year, but it was practically unforgivable that it had to take place in the middle of nowhere.

So far, nothing remotely interesting had happened and it was beginning to drive Win insane. Little did she know, that was all about to change with the arrival of one Billy Hargrove.

7:00 AM – It was the innocuous click of Win’s clock radio that woke her. Ever since she’d moved to Hawkins, she’d been sleeping worth shit. It was too quiet–the familiar sounds of the city that used to lull her to sleep were long gone, now replaced with nothing but the lonely chirping of insects and the wind. She thought waking up to the radio would make the process easier, but she usually ended up hitting snooze before the music even played.

Groaning, she rolled back over, pressing her face into her pillow. She thought after nearly three months she’d be used to Hawkins, but it was starting to seem like it would never feel like home.

A faint sound from the kitchen caught her ear and she lifted her face. The scent of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air–the strong brew her father liked after a long shift at the lab, even if he often fell asleep in his chair after drinking only one cup.

At least some things never changed.

He’d actually made it home before she had to leave. Most days she never even saw him, leaving for school before he returned home and going to bed before he woke.

Knowing it was only a matter of time before her alarm went off a second time, Win pushed herself up to get dressed, turning her clock off as she went. By the time she applied some makeup and fixed her hair, she’d have enough time to toast some Eggos and down a glass of OJ before her ride arrived.

When she walked into the kitchen, she found her dad leaning heavily against the counter, coffee cup forgotten in one hand, half raised to his lips as he stared blankly off into space.

“Dad.”

At the sound of her voice, he roused, nearly splashing the scalding liquid over his wrist in alarm.

“Shit, sorry,” he breathed, hastily setting the cup back down and running his hands through his dark hair. “I was just… thinking,” he mumbled, shaking his head wearily.

“They’re working you too much,” Win said, crossing the kitchen to the fridge, pulling out the carton of orange juice before opening the freezer for her waffles.

“There’s a lot going on, you wouldn’t understand sweetheart.”

“You always say that,” Win muttered, placing two frozen waffles in the toaster and pressing down the lever with more force than necessary. “Why can’t you just go back to your old job?” she asked, pouring herself a glass of juice. “If you’re going to be working the same lame hours, can’t it at least be somewhere better than here?”

“You know I can’t do that,” David sighed. “We’ve talked about this, Win. You’re just going to have to make the best of it here.”

Win’s waffles popped up.

“You’ll make new friends, find fun things to do,” he insisted. “What about those girls that drive you to school?” he asked, gesturing vaguely toward the street while Win quickly downed her breakfast.

She snorted. “Holly’s nice, and Tina’s alright, but Vicki Carmichael and Carol Perkins are her friends,” she said, as if the distinction were important.

David sighed, the long deep tired sigh Win came to expect from him. “Just… just keep your head up. Things’ll get better,” he finished wearily. It was his mantra–the only thing he could think of to say in the face of adversity.

Win rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue, knowing it was fruitless anyway.

“It would be nice if I had my own car to drive,” she ventured, not for the first time.

“You’re not driving the Chevelle,” her father said, knowing exactly what she was going to ask.

“But–”

“No buts,” he said, cutting her off. “Do you know how much that car cost? Besides, that’s not a car you drive every day. It’s special.”

“That’s bullshit,” Win grumbled, the sound of tires on gravel pricking her ears.

“We’ll get you your own car once I get some money saved up,” David said, trying to placate her.

“Yeah, a piece of shit,” Win muttered under her breath as she slung her backpack over her shoulder.

If her father heard her, he made no sign of it. “Plus, look on the bright side, at least you don’t have to take the bus.”

Just then, Tina honked her horn impatiently, and Win scowled. “Yeah, I’m super lucky,” she mumbled, pulling open the front door.

“Try to have a good day,” her father sighed, following her to the door. “Love you!” he called after and Win raised her hand in acknowledgement as she made her way to the back passenger door, yanking it open.

“What took you so long?” Tina asked as soon as she sat down, reaching for the seat belt.

“Arguing with my dad about the car again,” Win replied, leaning back in her seat to look out the window as Tina pulled back onto the street and drove off. The trees that slid past were already in full autumn bloom, the first dry leaves just starting to fall.

“Ugh, he’s so lame. It’s not like you’re gunna wreck it,” Tina scoffed in solidarity.

“Is he one of those guys that treats his car like his baby?” Carol asked with a derisive snort.

“Sort of, but not quite that extreme,” Win explained. “He always says it's for special occasions, but like, what if I want every day t’be special?” she laughed.

“Speaking of special,” Vicki segued, already tired of the topic, “What is everyone wearing to Tina’s Halloween party this weekend?” she asked, flipping down the visor to check her lip gloss in the mirror.

“I’m dressing as Madonna from the ‘Like a Virgin’ music video,” Tina exclaimed excitedly.

“I’m going as Alex Owens from Flashdance,” Carol added with a grin.

“How about you, Win? Do you have a costume planned yet?” Tina asked and the others turned expectantly, waiting for her answer.

“I was thinking of going as the Road Warrior,” Win answered, tearing her eyes from the Indiana scenery to look at them.

“What?” Vicki asked, her face scrunching up.

“You know, Mad Max?” Win added. “But that’s a dude,” Carol pointed out, giving Win a strange look.

“So?” Win asked, meeting her stare head on. “I look good in leather.”

“Ooh, all leather. Sounds bitchin’,” Tina laughed, pulling into the school parking lot.

As Win stepped out of the car, the roar of an engine filled the air and a dark blue Camaro with California plates whipped into the stone lot, kicking up a cloud of dust in its wake. Parking a few spots over, the car screeched to a halt, its engine still revving loudly, competing with the heavy metal music blasting from its speakers.

Suddenly the engine cut out and the driver’s door swung open. A booted foot hit the ground, and moments later Win got her first glimpse of the occupant. Clad all in denim, save for his tight white undershirt, one of the most gorgeous guys she’d ever seen straightened, shaking out his long golden curls as he fixed the collar of his jean jacket and surveyed the parking lot, an unimpressed look on his face.

“Who is that?” Vicki exclaimed, gaping at him shamelessly.

The other girls stared just as enthralled, their gazes following him as he passed.

“I have no idea, but would you check out that ass?” Tina gasped, her mouth falling open as she ogled him, twisting a lock of dark hair between her fingers. “Just look at it go!” she giggled, biting her lip.

Win rolled her eyes at their reaction, but found herself looking nonetheless. His snug Levi’s left little to the imagination, hugging his slim hips just right, making looking at anything other than his ass nearly impossible.

“He has to be new,” Vicki exclaimed, hurrying to shut the car door behind her and follow after. “I would have definitely remembered that face.”

"Or that ass!" Carol laughed.

“C’mon, let’s go find out who he is,” Tina said, grabbing Win’s arm and hauling her toward the door.

—

It didn’t take long for the new kid’s name to be on everyone’s lips, his appearance the most interesting thing since Win’s own arrival.

“Did you hear? Billy Hargrove’s from California!” Holly exclaimed as Win set her lunch tray down next to hers.

“Yeah, I saw the plates on his car.”

“Do you think he knows how to surf? He’s so bodacious!” she squealed.

“He certainly is,” Win agreed dryly, bemused by her friend’s reaction.

“He doesn’t hold a candle to Steve though!” Holly quickly amended, catching sight of Steve Harrington as he walked past with his underclassman girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler.

“No way. Billy’s way hotter than Harrington,” Tina argued, joining them at the table, followed by Vicki.

“I’m gunna make a move and ask him for a ride home,” Vicki said, wearing a smug grin.

“You do that,” Win muttered as she opened her milk carton.

Wanting to sneak a cigarette before afternoon class, she finished her lunch quickly, slipping away while the others were preoccupied, still discussing boys.

Pulling her half empty pack from her jacket pocket, she plucked one of the slim rolls free and placed it between her lips as she made her way to the bleachers by the practice field. A group of guys were lounging near the top and Win spotted none other than Billy Hargrove’s windswept mullet as she made her way to her secret hiding spot.

Ducking into the shade under the metal bleachers, she fished her lighter free and lit up, inhaling deeply. Blowing the smoke through her nostrils, she felt the instant calming effect of the nicotine roll over her and she leaned back against the support beam, closing her eyes.

It wasn’t long before the boys’ conversation above pricked her attention, and Win tilted her head to listen in.

“What’s it like there?”

“No man, what’re the babes like there?”

Billy let out a scoff. “They’re way hotter than any of the cows you have around here.”

Several guys laughed, clapping Billy on the shoulder while a few others–the ones with girlfriends, no doubt–muttered under their breaths, not wanting to seem lame in front of the new cool kid.

“You saying you haven’t seen any chick you like yet?” Tommy Hagan asked, and below, Win rolled her eyes, flicking a line of ash from her cigarette.

Wait til he hears his girlfriend has a hard on for his new hero, she thought smugly.

“None that I’ve seen. I’m starting to think high school girls might be beneath me anyway,” Hargrove answered and Win had to fight back a derisive snort.

“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath, crushing her cigarette butt underfoot as the bell rang.

The rest of the afternoon passed unremarkably and Win was rather relieved she didn’t share any classes with Billy. She didn’t think she could stomach any more girls fawning over him, especially after what she’d overheard at lunch. Just because he was attractive didn’t mean he was a catch.

“Win!” Tina called as the final bell rang and everyone funneled out into the hall. “Help me pass out the party invites?” she asked, pulling a stack of orange flyers from her backpack as Win waited for her.

“Yeah alright,” Win agreed, taking half the stack.

“Great, you’re the best! Meet me by the south entrance once you’ve handed them all out.”

Sighing, Win positioned herself by the bottom of the staircase, handing a flyer to every student that passed.

“Halloween night, come get ‘sheet-faced’ at Tina’s!” she exclaimed, reading off the words on the page. Once she’d been wiped out, she went in search of her friend, finding her just finishing up as well.

“Do you think Billy’ll come?” she asked as they walked to the parking lot together.

Win huffed an annoyed breath. “That jerk’s so full of himself,” she muttered, noticing his blue Camaro was still parked ahead.

Tina’s brows rose, wondering what Win could possibly have against him already. “That’s fine, if you’re not interested, all the better for the rest of us,” she laughed, flashing Billy her best smile as they approached.

True to her word, Vicki was already at his side as he leaned against his car, chewing on a toothpick, as if waiting for something.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Billy mused as he smirked, looking Win up and down appraisingly, completely ignoring Vicki.

Before Win could sling a snappy comeback Tina answered for her, eager to please. “This is Win, and I’m Tina,” she added, batting her eyelashes at him.

Billy rolled the toothpick to the corner of his mouth, his tongue lazily swiping across his bottom lip. “You’re not from around here, are you?” he asked, still looking only at Win, though it was less of a question and more an observation. “You can tell that just by looking at me, can you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

The low chuckle he let out in response made her stomach somersault, but she kept her face straight, not giving anything away; reacting would only fuel his ego.

“Oh, I can tell a lot by just looking at you.” Billy’s words held a cocky insinuation and though Win couldn’t deny how fucking attractive he was, there was nothing she wanted more than to knock him down a few pegs.

“I thought High School girls were beneath you,” she said, wearing a calculated frown, her brows pinching in faux confusion as she repeated what she’d overheard back at him. At her words Tina and Vicki gaped at her as if she’d grown another head.

Billy, however, merely huffed in amusement. “That’s til I met you,” he said, leaning in closer, his blue eyes flashing at the unspoken challenge. “I’d definitely like you beneath me,” he said, tilting his head as his gaze flicked up to hers, a coy smirk playing at his lips.

Win’s own lips twitched as she stared back, a wicked grin suddenly gracing her features. “Too bad I’m not really into High School boys,” she said with a shrug before leaning in as well. “Plus, I prefer being on top.”

Without another word, she slipped past him, the look on his face priceless, while Tina shared an incredulous look with Vicki before giving a start and hurrying after her, directing a wistful look back over her shoulder as she trailed behind.

“Your sister coming, or what?” Vicki huffed, jealous of the almost predatory way Billy’s gaze followed Win.

Annoyed at the interruption, he tore his eyes away, a scowl marring his features. “She’ll be here, she knows better than to make me wait.” He pulled the toothpick from his lips, turning his head and spitting through his teeth. “And don’t call her that–” he snapped, pointing at Vicki over the top of his car.

“What?” Vicki asked, frowning at his sudden shift in mood.

“Sister,” he exclaimed. “She’s not my sister.”

“What the hell was that?” Tina cried, rounding on Win as they reached her car.

“What was what?” Win asked innocently, waiting for her friend to unlock the doors.

“I thought you weren’t interested!”

Win fell silent, unsure how to answer. As she climbed into her seat, she looked back toward Billy’s blue Camaro, trying to ignore the way he’d made her insides flutter. Maybe he was a smug bastard, but Win couldn’t deny there was something dangerous and exciting about him, not to mention the fact he was sex on legs.

“I’m not,” she insisted, though it was clear she wasn’t fooling anyone.

Tina rolled her eyes as she put the car in gear.

“Yeah, sure.”

⇾ taglist: @super-unpredictable98 @wherethewitchersare @stevesjester @santacarlahorrorshow @elliethesuperfruitlover

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x oc #otp: lewgrove #oc: win lewis #fic: i don't think you notice #joz.fic

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queenofzan · 2 years

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here’s a post i wrote in 2020 about this exact fucking thing:

the thing that really gets me is people talking about the bisexual community and pointing to years-old (sometimes decades-old) evidence of trans-inclusivity and being like “see, we’ve always included trans and/or nonbinary folks in the definition of bi” and here’s the thing someone was. y’all weren’t. i feel very confident saying this as someone who has identified as bisexual for most of their life, and who is also nonbinary. trying to act like the entire bisexual community has been welcoming and inclusive of trans folks since the 70s is a literal lie. if folks meant to be welcoming and inclusive of trans folks in the early 2000s and 2010s, they did a shitty job. if queer teens are not getting that message from you, then you are not putting that message out there enough. a 17 year old bisexual who is just realizing they might have some gender shit going on isn’t doing the fucking reading on queer history, they’re absorbing the most accessible messages and the most accessible messages when i was a teen and a young adult were literally binaristic and often explicitly transphobic. they were always implicitly binary and transphobic. and to say, ah no, look at these bisexuals from before you were born, being inclusive! that’s disingenuous. i am here, a nonbinary bisexual, telling you i have experienced transphobia and binarism from other bisexuals, and acting like anyone who’s ever identified with a related but distinct label (pansexuality, polysexuality, etc) is making up a distinction that doesn’t/shouldn’t exist is literally erasing the experiences of other bisexuals. like me. who were told, well no that’s not really what bisexuality is about. that’s not really who bisexuality is for. and no, i’m sorry, i can’t pull out receipts on this, because lots of it happened in the years before 2010, when i was a baby gay trying to convince myself i was hetero, or looking to media primarily made by cis gays in an attempt to find something even remotely recognizable but i have been hearing this messaging for years now that no, bisexuality has always been inclusive, was always meant to be inclusive, pansexuals (or whoever) are making up a distinction that doesn’t need to exist, and it’s. so fucking annoying. y'all, i did not hallucinate all the weird transphobic shit i heard from other bisexuals, about bisexuals. i did not somehow misinterpret all the biological essentialism and fixation on genitals. i didn’t invent the idea of not being welcome or wanted under the bisexual label. and it’s one thing to be like “we are trying to do better now” and another thing entirely to be like “that never happened”. there’s a world of difference between “that shouldn’t have happened” and “that didn’t happen”. one of them is acknowledgement, and one of them is fucking gaslighting. anyway the first time i was explicitly told by a sexuality label that people like me existed and people could be attracted to them was someone explaining what pansexuality was, so sorry for not reading minds and somehow intuiting that i was supposed to ignore the transphobes and gender essentialists and that, in five to ten years, bisexuals would largely agree that i existed and was capable of being attractive

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flailing-feathers · 1 year

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I got a stream to do this afternoon so fuckit I’m letting out my negativity demons here now ‘cause they’ve been weighing me down.

Been feeling like shit every time I’ve poked social media lately, idk if it’s because it’s December or what but I’m back in another one of my ‘I’m a loser who can’t make rent with the one thing I’m any good at’ modes. Yeah the economy’s in the shitter but I am thirty four years old, have an art degree from a decade ago, and spent most of last year redoing my portfolio after I quit my day job over their handling of the pandemic (and only because I had a bunch of money saved up to give myself time to restart my art career doing remote work). Spoiler alert, that wasn’t nearly enough. I opened commissions in August 2021. I started job hunting in January 2022. It is now December 2022, and I’ve made less than 3k all year, no job, the feds paying for my food since March and my bf paying my rent since September (we don’t live together, he’s just helping me).

I’m too damned old to suck this hard. I can’t come up with cool ideas people would want to buy, I’m an unhireable schmuck that doesn’t have 3+ years industry experience in anything, and as much as I know part of it is that the market is objectively worse, I still feel like the biggest loser for taking more than twice as long to find work as I did when I graduated college. I’m so much more skilled now but I still don’t know how to make money. There seems to be no light at the end of this tunnel where I can actually make progress in my life.

Maybe it’s cultural programming but I hate having to be propped up financially (though I am equally in favor of UBI, and wish that was even remotely possible in the US). I hate being useless. I hate knowing that I’m intelligent and skilled but not the right kind of intelligent and skilled to not be living in a shitty little cold-ass apartment that I now can’t even pay for by myself. Art is the only thing I’m any good at, and yeah this is privilege talking but I can’t go back to regular dayjobs because nobody around here has trustworthy policies for protecting their minimum wage peons from health risks. I was uninsured even when I had a job.

Back to the whole social media thing - I’ve been a lot less active lately, not because of anything going on with platforms or the AI debacle or any other large scale dramas, it’s just that I look at it, and it makes me feel bad that I’m not posting new art or have cool promos or merch and there’s no demand for my work whatsoever. I’m still the kind of awful little shit that when I see other people posting comms, even though they’re probably just barely scraping by, too (and likely undercharging), I feel like a loser ‘cause I have barely gotten any comms and can’t even come up with merch ideas. I haven’t done anything for Studio 252MYA in ages while other artists are pumping out banger after banger. It’s great for them, of course, they deserve any boost they can get. I guess it just hits me right in the Impostor Syndrome. I don’t feel like I belong there, I’m not one of those paleoartists that are actually cool.

In the fanart world, I have an even stupider problem - I only hyperfixate on one thing at a time, and I’ve drifted away from Star Trek and back to Pokemon. I don’t stop liking a thing if it stops being my fixation, but it is a lot harder to want to choose to work on stuff relating to it over other things. My fixations tend to last around a year, no more than two. It’s fun while it lasts, but objectively ST64 is going to be much slower going now and other things are going to be chosen to be worked on instead more often than not. But there’s a little voice in the back of my head that most of the people who followed my fanart Twitter were in it for the Star Trek and I’m going to disappoint them by having less and less of it.

Lately I haven’t been doing anything for social media at all. Just making stuff for my bf and futzing about with my Neocities. I love how small and focused that community is. No room for expectations and disappointment and feeling like shit, just fucking around with silly ideas and exploring other people’s. A happy little island getaway where I can scratch a creative itch with no stakes.

#text dump

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vibraniumwing · 3 years

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soft.

a bucky barnes x fem!reader wherein the reader comes home to see the super soldier with a toddler tucked in his lap.

WARNING: none! (all mistakes within the story are mine)

A/N: soft and domestic (and clingy) bucky, anyone? i’ve written this with tfaws bucky in mind after episode five where he was on the couch and smiled after seeing sam’s nephews. so yes now i present to you bucky with a child bcs we need that content, ,, good bYe for i shall be drowning in my own feels.

---

“Do you really have to go, doll?” Bucky asked, watching you by the frame of your shared bedroom door with his hands crossed against his chest. A heavy sigh heaving from his lips as his eyes observed you pick out a shirt to wear, hands grasping on his black shirt and opted to wear that; a small smile formed on his lips as you slipped into the clothing piece, adoring how big it looks on you.

You turned to him with your hand on your waist, an eyebrow raised, “Unless you want to starve for a whole month then fine I won’t go to the grocery” you say teasingly, checking yourself out in the mirror before walking up to him, arms linking around his neck loosely; his hands circling around your waist in a protective manner as he pulls you into him. “I won’t be gone for the whole day, James.”

He groaned softly, wanting nothing more than to accompany you but seeing that you were going with your mother, he opted out. “You always say that then be gone for the whole afternoon.” he grumbles in between the kisses he gives you. “You and your mom take so much time at the grocery store.”

You threw your head back and laughed, finding his small whiny state adorable. You retract your arms from behind his neck and cupped the sides of his face, squishing his cheeks gently. “You sound like a child, Buck. I promise I won’t be long. Besides, you have Alpine to keep you company.” you motion your head to the sleeping cat on the bed.

“Now please let me go so I can leave now and be back sooner.” you tell him, pressing one final kiss to his lips before ducking out of his embrace, making your way to the front door and grabbing your car keys before turning back to see him standing behind you with a small pout on his lips (albeit he would never admit to doing such an act),

You grinned and walked up to him, reaching up to press a small kiss on his lips. “Sometimes it's hard to believe you’re this big scary dude that can take twenty men down in a course of ten minutes when all I see is this big baby.” you tease, a hand snaking up to the back of his head to play with the ends of his hair softly.

“Doll wait before you go” Bucky starts off, holding onto you, cheeks lightly flushed as he hesitated with his words, clearing his throat lightly before looking away, “Can you set up that damn Netflix thing on the TV before you leave?”

Your gaze on him softened even more and nodded, leading him to the living room and set the whole thing up for him, handing him the remote right after. “I’m guessing you can manage now?” he smiled shyly, the area around his eyes crinkling as he nodded. “Yeah, I will. Thanks, doll.”

“I’ll be back later, I love you, Buck!” You bid him a goodbye, looking back at him from the door and gave him a small wave, the male waving back before focusing on the TV, searching for that one movie you suggested he watch.

“What was that movie called again? RIght, The Breakfast Club”

---

Not even half-way through the movie, Bucky had somehow fallen asleep on the couch, not finding the first few minutes of the film entertaining. He somehow fell deep into slumber that he didn’t even notice the front door of the house opening until he felt something being placed on his stomach.

He stirred awake and the first thing his blurry vision could make out is the outline of a toddler sitting on him. “Hey James, I’m leaving Hugo with you and Y/N for the weekend. Our babysitter cancelled out last minute and I’ve been trying to call my sister but she hasn’t picked up any calls.” Damian, your younger brother said in a rush, putting down your nephew’s baby bag on the coffee table. “Thanks James, we owe you one.”

But before Bucky could get a say in any of this, Damian was already out the door and the sound of a car pulling away was followed. Barely half-awake, he stared at the tyke who was staring right back at him with his innocent E/C doe eyes. “What do I do with you?”

He takes Hugo in his arms as he sits up, placing him on his lap, his metal arm reaching over to pause television. “Y/N’s better at this than I am.” he mumbles, watching the child look around the room before he started to fidget on the larger male’s lap, wanting to roam around.

Bucky sighs, “Now why won’t Y/N answer her calls?” he asks the tiny human who was still staring up at him. He reaches over to grab his phone and dials your number, only to hear it ring from the other side of the house, inside your room. He dropped the call and placed his phone inside his pocket, now wondering what he could do to keep the small person alive.

“Usually Y/N deals with you.” He says, watching the small child struggle on his lap, clearly wanting to get down. Bucky finally gets what Hugo wanted to do and sets him down on the carpeted floor, watching the toddler (wobbly) walk around the space freely.

Seeing that the child was doing alright after finding a small fixation with Alpine who was now resting near the couch, he returned his attention back to the TV to resume watching the movie. His attention split in half as he continued to glance back at the kid who was now playing with the toys you had brought him and kept at in a basket in the corner of the living room where you deemed it “Hugo’s Area”

Bucky was finally getting into the film, entertainment written all over his face at the sight of the students dancing around the library until it morphed into one of concern when a small bonk followed by a loud cry resonated the room making him look over at Hugo who was already flushed from crying.

He paused the movie again and rushed over to Hugo’s side, taking the small boy in his arms, cradling him on his lap as he tried to calm him down. “Now kid, don’t cry on me. C’mon” he mumbled, raising him up lightly to look at his forehead as he searched for any wounds, relieved to find none.

“C’mon James, what would Y/N do…” He said to himself, standing up as he moved around and cradled the crying child, trying to remember what you would do whenever he has meltdowns like this.

“Oh god, right!” Bucky exclaimed as he remembered, quickly going to the couch and sat down, placing Hugo on his lap as he gently placed his vibranium hand on the back of his head and his flesh one cupping the smaller one’s cheek, wiping the tears that glistened on his smooth skin.

Seeing how the toddler was starting to calm down, he carefully spoke, “Now you gotta work with me, little one.” Bucky then proceeded to blow softly on his face, remembering how you would do that when Hugo was having a fit. “Now can you do that for me as well?” He asked, encouraging the child with a small smile.

Once he felt the kid do the same thing, he repeated the steps a few more times until he was completely calm, letting the child snuggle up against his chest, feeling how he would occasionally let out a small shuddering sob from time to time, making Bucky laugh at the adorable action. “Now what do you want to do?” he gently asked, the cold surface of his metal hand that caressed the child’s back making small bubbles of laughter elicit from the baby.

“Bucky wead [ read ] pwease?” was all that left the two-year old’s mouth, causing a small surprise from the older. Hugo then pushed himself off from Bucky’s chest and turned to his small corner of the room, raising his small arm and pointing his even smaller finger towards the bookshelf that was filled to the brim with story books.

A chuckle left the soldier’s lips, “Alright then, little dude. Go take your pick.” he then proceeded to let him down and watch as the toddler walked his way towards the array of books and picked out one, running back towards him with a big smile.

“Alright big guy, what do you have for me?” Bucky asked, taking the tyke in his arms once again, taking the book from Hugo’s hands. He let out a (very) fake gasp of excitement which made the toddler laugh out loud as his reaction, making small little wiggles of his own eagerness for the book.

Bucky shifted in his seat a little to be more comfortable, letting Hugo snuggle up to him as he opened the book and started to read, “Llama Llama, red pajama, reads a story with his mama.”

---

You were elated to finally come back home and fall into your lover’s arms from a long day of errands with your mom. After the Target trip with your mom, you had to drive her back home and help her with her own groceries and pack up everything with her over at your childhood home一 with an addition of having a few serious talks with her about your future.

“Seriously, Y/N. When are you going to give me a grandchild?” Your mother poked your sides as you helped her bring in the bags filled with her stuff. Ever since Damian introduced Hugo to the family, she’d been on your heels about when you and Bucky would bring one to them as well; admittedly you and him had been in a much longer relationship than Damian and his wife which surprises everyone even more.

You shrugged, rolling your eyes in a playful manner. “I don’t know, mom. I think I’m content being with Bucky for now.” you answered truthfully, setting the items on the kitchen island and turned to her, “Besides, we have Alpine! Our cat!”

This made your mother sigh, laughing softly at your antics. “I know my sweet girl, but I’m just so excited to see a little you or James run around with Hugo.” Her answer causes your heart to swell at the thought of starting a family with him some day; conversations like this with him are normal but are always caught in a fleeting moment so you were never certain about his opinions on the matter.

“Well you just have to wait and see, ma.”

Taking the bags in your hand, you walked over to the door and opened it with ease, expecting to see Bucky waiting for you on the other side only to be greeted by none. Your eyebrows were furrowed as you carefully stepped inside, assuming he had fallen asleep as he waited for you until you heard his quiet voice resonating through the living room. “Little llama, don’t you know? Mama llama loves you so”

You peeked at the source of the sound and what you saw made you just melt on the spot. Bucky had Hugo on his lap, your nephew playing with the thumb of his artificial arm as he listened to the story that he was barely paying attention to as he was already falling asleep.

Not wanting to interrupt the moment, you graced on over to the kitchen in silence and arranged everything as quiet as you can. The smile on your face growing bigger at the thought of how much of a good father Bucky could be; the sight of him with your nephew caused a thousand butterflies to dance around in your stomach freely.

“You’re back, doll?” Bucky’s quiet voice made you jump, head whipping to his direction where he stood with Hugo fast asleep in his arms.

You nod and walk towards him, offering to take him from his arms and Bucky disagreed, pulling away from your attempts. “Hugo’s with me, I’ll take him to bed and I’ll help you finish out here, alright?”

Chuckling softly, you agree and reach up to place a quick kiss on your nephew’s forehead, moving aside so Bucky can place him down inside your room.

You were folding up the plastic bags when you felt a pair of arms sneak up and circle your waist, capturing you in a back hug. Your back was flat against his chest, the warmth from his body making you relax in his arms. Turning around, you let your arms snake up around his neck, your hands playing with the ends of his hair, his physique visibly loosening up. “So your brother came here earlier and said you weren’t picking up your calls.”

“I forgot my phone, i know.” you told him, throwing your head back slightly to let out a soft groan of annoyance at yourself before looking back at him. You met his gaze and his eyes were filled with adoration and love with a spark of something you can’t seem to pinpoint. “What’s going through that head of yours, James?”

He hummed softly, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, “I was just thinking of how I want to have a family of my own with you.” he answered truthfully, not finding anything shameful in admitting his thoughts. “The afternoon I spent with Hugo made me realize I want that for us as well.” his words were soft and dripping with enthusiasm at the thought of being with you for the rest of your days.

This made your cheeks flush lightly, a happy smile resting on your lips as you were already in agreement of his words, “I’ve been thinking the exact same thing, Bucky. I can’t wait to have our own little minion running around the house.” you admitted, this time making Bucky smile even wider than yours, happy that you had the same thought.

“Also, not to brag but I think I’m his favourite now.” Bucky said out of nowhere, grabbing the small carton of chocolate milk from behind you and letting you go, opening the drink and chugging it down in one go.

You rolled your eyes at his words, playfully flipping him off as you sauntered into the pantry where you were arranging your stock of goods. “I highly doubt that, he loves me way more.”

“That’s what you think but Hugo made me read his favourite book to him so now I’m his favourite. He even said it himself.”

“Oh no he didn’t!”

---

TAGLIST: @lunalovecroft @anchoeritic @harrysweasleys @https-bvcky @luana @weasleytwins-41 @angelsgrxzer

for those whose usernames are in bold, it means i cannot tag you for some reason. join my taglist! it's linked in the masterlist <3

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fics #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #marvel #mcu #marvel x reader

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joshuas · 3 years

Text

facts

♫ pairing: hwang hyunjin x female reader

♫ genre: fluff, crack (seriously, do not question how i came up with this), domestic au, established relationship au

♫ warnings: mentions spiders, and mentions use of alcohol?

♫ word count: 1.5k

♫ prompt: “are you drunk?” “not nearly enough” from this prompt list !

♫ a/n: this was actually a request from @starteez and dedicated to her as a very very belated birthday present <33 hope you like it :)))

♫ summary: hyunjin gets super drunk and has a Crisis, meanwhile you just wanted to watch the latest episode of your favourite drama.

♫ tagging: @jadezircon @mostlikelynotmelissa and @potato2earth - let me know if you would like to be part of the tag list !

You sighed, settling into the couch, tub of ice cream, and tv remote in hand.

It was Friday night. Otherwise known as you and Hyunjin’s drama night, in which you’d watch the latest episode of the most recent drama the two of you were hooked on. However, today, Hyunjin had decided to go out for drinks with Felix, ditching you and your drama night. Initially, you were annoyed (not that he was hanging out with his friends but more so that he messed with your tradition), but you realised that you could just watch it without him. I mean... he was going out and having fun, who’s to say that you can’t do the same by chilling with your favourite characters and finding out about whatever dark secrets they had been just about to reveal in the previous episode. Okay... the latter of that was your main motivation for it. You’re not that lonely or sad.

Nodding resolutely, you scooped your ice cream, settling into the couch as the drama played, your attention fixated on the screen.

The sharp buzz of your phone startled you out of your immense concentration, the caller ID flashing to reveal your boyfriend, Hyunjin.

Your eyes widened in panic, your hands knocking the ice cream off of your lap as you reached around for the TV remote. The phone buzzed continuously, ringing as you fumbled around for the off button, leaving you breathless as you picked up the phone on the final ring,

“He—“

“Y/NNNN~” Hyunjin whined into the phone, his breathing heavy.

“Hyunjin? What’s wrong? Are you crying? ...Are you drunk?” You closed your eyes, only to open them again in confusion as you heard sniffling on the other end of the phone.

“Not nearly e-enough! I-I don’t w-want to be e-eaten.” He sobbed into the phone.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion,

“What?” Your tone coming out sharper than expected, eliciting more sobs from Hyunjin.

“F-felix w-was telling me about how f-female s-spiders e-eat their m-mates, and now I’m scared and I’m n-never coming h-home because y-you’re going to e-eat me.” Hyunjin breathed, between sobs.

...What?

“Excuse me? Why would I eat you. Felix was talking about spiders.” You said, slightly offended by his drunk comparisons.

He breathed deeply,

“Y-you know how the other day we were watching a Marvel movie and y-you k-know what you s-said? You said that the c-character you r-relate with t-the m-most with is Black Widow!” He exclaimed, almost hysterical.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, as he spoke incoherently at the phone, sobs heaving out of him as if he had just witnessed something deeply distressing. Well... what his drunk mind was picturing was slightly distressing, so it made sense.

“Well yes, because she’s a strong, independent female lead. Anyway, you’re too drunk to understand any of that. Hyunjin. Where are you?”

“I’m not telling you! Y-you can’t come to Felix’s house!” Hyunjin attempted to ward you off before realising his mistake a second later. “FELIX! Y/N’s COMING! She’s going to eat us—“

You hung up on him, grabbing your keys and heading out the door... ignoring the melting ice cream on the floor.

As soon as you reached Felix’s apartment you flung the door wide open, apologising profusely as a wincing Felix came out from behind, guiding you to your extremely drunk boyfriend.

Not noticing your entrance, Hyunjin had positioned himself quite... oddly, so that his head was on the rug on the floor but his legs were on the couch, a hand flung dramatically on his forehead, and another hand on the floor, not too dissimilar to someone doing a one-handed snow angel.

He looks like a four-year-old...

You cleared your throat behind him, approaching him tentatively. Whipping around, his eyes widened when they landed on you, panic flashing through them as he scrambled to sit upright.

“What are you doing here?” His words, although slightly slurred, still portrayed fear that was not well-founded at all. How his drunken state got to thinking you were a spider was beyond you, but then again, he was drinking with Felix, so who knows what went down there.

“I came to pick you up since you’re um. Drunk.” You raised your eyebrows, stating the obvious.

“No! You’re not allowed to take me back to your web.” He stumbled forward, couch cushion in hand in an attempt to ward you off.

Web? Oh my god...

“Can you— ugh. I’m not a spider! I’m not going to eat you! You’re my boyfriend, for God’s sake, and I love you, and I’m not a cannibal. Besides, you wouldn’t be very delicious, you’re mostly just muscle.” You sighed, raising your arms in frustration and defeat.

Hyunjin’s eyes widened in offence, placing a hand on his chest and stepping back, tears started to well in his eyes.

“I— oh no. What? Why are you crying again?” You panicked, settling him on the couch, rubbing his back soothingly as you mentally cursed his current over sensitive state.

“Y-you really t-think I w-wouldn’t be d-delicious?” He sobbed louder into your shoulder, as you rubbed soothing patterns on his back.

You rolled your eyes,

He’s so drunk.

“This conversation is so concerning, and one that I want to discontinue at all costs. I'm not a spider, and I'm not going to eat you. I don't want to comment on... that.” You deadpanned.

“How did you guys even get this drunk?” You glanced between Hyunjin and Felix who had emerged from the kitchen, ice pack on his slightly bruised face.

“It was all him. I asked him if he wanted to come over and watch the latest episode of this drama we’re both really into. He started drinking as soon as we started watching because he didn’t want to remember any of it so that when he watches it with you his reactions are genuine. Eventually, he got too drunk to even sit still, so we turned it off and started talking about stuff.” Felix shrugged.

“...and you somehow got to talking about spiders?” You asked, unimpressed.

“We were baking because he wanted to make you cookies, since he felt guilty...for basically watching nothing. I guess he still felt guilty for the action. Anyway, he freaked out after seeing a spider. Hyunjin, plus being drunk and his usual dramatic self is not fun. Especially when spiders are involved. I told him that fact because it was at the top of my head and he gave up on the cookies and started freaking out about you. Speaking of the cookies, I should probably check on them. You need to take this home before the rest of the guys come here if you want to have any of it.” He headed to the kitchen, leaving you and Hyunjin alone in the living room.

“Hyunjin, why didn’t you just stay home if you were just going to watch the drama? You know that today is drama night.” You crossed your arms, directing your attention once again to your sniffling boyfriend.

“I didn’t want to cry in front of youuu,” he sobbed. “I didn’t know what was going to happen next and I thought they might break up and I just...” he trailed off.

“You know that makes no sense right? You’re literally sobbing in front of me now. Also, you’re my boyfriend, I’m supposed to be there for you, tears and all. Besides, we’ll probably both be sobbing if the main characters broke up. We’ve shipped them too much for that to not be devastating.“ You said resolutely, your gaze softening as you looked at him, snuggling closer to you.

“I knowww.”

“Come on, let’s go home. There’s a tub of ice cream waiting for the both of us.”

Your drama night was postponed to Saturday seeing as soon as the two of you arrived at your apartment, Hyunjin collapsed and fell into a deep sleep on the couch... and your ice cream was on the floor, melted and no longer edible.

Leading you to Saturday night, where you and Hyunjin were snuggled together on the couch, wrapped in a blanket burrito, eating the cookies he baked yesterday, alongside a new tub of ice cream, whilst bawling your eyes out.

“I told you,” he sniffed “I knew this would happen.”

Your tear-filled eyes blurred your vision as you tried to focus on the crying characters on the screen, reaching for another tissue,

“I know, but it’s not as bad when we’re watching it together, and besides, these cookies are incredible with ice cream.” You snuggled into him and gave him a watery smile.

“Hey, as long as you’re not a spider and about to eat me, I’m all for our drama nights and cuddles,” Hyunjin smirked.

You pushed him lightly,

“Oh my god... how do you even remember any of the stuff you said? You were ridiculous.”

“I don’t know but the fact still holds.”

“It’s not even a fact! I'm human!”

💫 masterlist !

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alt-rose · 3 years

Text

take a break | colson baker

colson baker imagine

take a break - you’re studying for the MCAT, and he reminds you of the importance of selfcare.

warnings: none? language? school stress?

it wasn’t unusual for Colson’s living room to be a mess. from all the ragers that he’s thrown to the guys’ weekly get together, the living room was bound to be trashed. empty bottles and glasses usually littered every surface with rolling papers and ash spread thoroughly in between.

however, the mess that currently inhabited the living room was not Colson or the guys’ doing. it was yours. you had taken over the living room, claiming it as your study zone.

you were currently studying for the MCAT, which you were taking in a few weeks. Colson had been so supportive when you decided to visit him during the important time in your academic career, and you were only asking for a few hours a day to yourself so that you could study for your upcoming test. you promised that you would spend the rest of your time with him since you were spending your spring break camped out at his place and would eventually need to head back to school.

he was so proud of you, and he was incredibly impressed with your work ethic. applying to medical school was not an easy feat, and you had worked your ass off to get to where you are today, which is something that he could relate to.

so, Colson let you trash his living room. he had banished the guys from his house for the duration of your break (or at least, kept them out of your study zone), and he even cleared out when you had planned to study, usually spending his time in the studio working on his next album.

when he was gone, you spent your day drowning in study guides and practice tests. your papers were sprawled out on the living room floor as you used the coffee table as your desk. you had pens and highlighters buried within the mess. you had your textbooks cracked open to whatever page that you had frantically flipped to when you couldn’t remember something. mugs with day-old coffee and empty fruit snack pouches were abandoned on the end tables by the couch.

it was safe to say that you absolutely destroyed his living room.

“I’m going to head to the studio for a few hours.”

peering up from your place on the floor, you watched as Colson zipped up his jacket and shoved his wallet and keys into his pockets.

“text me if you need anything?” he suggested before making his way over to you, leaning down to plant a kiss on the top of your head.

“sure,” you murmur before pulling him down to kiss his cheek.

“don’t study too hard,” he joked, earning a stressed laugh from you.

the both of you knew that asking you not to study hard was like asking you not to breathe. both are necessary for your survival.

after he left, you decided to use the silence to your advantage, and you began to take another practice exam. that exam then turned into taking another exam when you didn’t score as well as you had hoped, and then you were spiraling.

you scoured your study guides and notes to review the material you had missed. your eyes were burning from the strain, and your head was beginning to pound. you were digging yourself a hole in your insecurities. you had broken down into tears twice now from the stress. you were dizzy and nauseous from forgetting to eat; not that you really had the stomach for it right now anyway. you don’t even remember the last time you got up to use the bathroom.

when Colson came home after 9 hours at the studio, he found you in the same position that you were in when he left. you were hunched over your books. your blue light glasses had slid down your nose, and your hair was a mess. leaving you to finish whatever you were working on, he made his way to the kitchen to clean up whatever mess that you had left him, only to find that there were no dishes in the sink. the kitchen hadn’t been touched since that morning.

“hey,” he began as he made his way back to the living room. “did you eat anything today?”

you only hummed a response as you flipped through one of your notebooks, completely ignoring him. finding what you were looking for, you jotted a note down on one of your study guides.

“hey,” Colson tried to get your attention once more as he took a seat on the floor across the table from you. he watched your eyes flick up to him briefly before they directed their attention back to the work in front of you. “dude.”

“Col, give me a minute to finish this up, and I’ll talk to you then,” you snap at him as you take a few more notes.

Colson let out a sigh as he watched you go back and forth from your notebook to your textbook. he chose to sit and scroll through twitter while he waited for you to finish, but after 20 minutes had passed, he knew that you weren’t going to stop anytime soon.

“jesus,” he muttered to himself as he put his phone down on top of some of your papers on the table. “have you taken a break at all today? have you eaten? looked out a window?”

you scoffed at him.

“I don’t have time for breaks, Colson,” you said coldly. “I have to study because I have to take this test in a few weeks – a test, might I add, that will define my future – and I am not even remotely prepared for it. my practice scores are decreasing. I can’t remember any of this material. my notes are shit. and, I am going to fucking fail, which means I am not going to get into medical school, and all of my years of working my ass off in school will mean absolutely nothing. I cannot just take a break when I have everything at stake here.”

you both took a beat. you were taken aback by your sudden outburst. yeah, you meant every word of it, but you hadn’t meant for it to come out so harshly. and, you definitely didn’t mean to snap at Colson, who had been so supportive of your goals from the beginning. he was kind of shocked by your snappy attitude.

“I understand,” he broke the silence. “I understand that you are really stressed, and I know that you have a lot of pressure on you. I just want to help, and I think taking an hour to eat and do something other than tear apart your notes would help.” he gently placed his hand on top of yours. “it’s late. I’m tired. you have to be tired. let’s call it a night. I’ll make you something to eat, and then you can turn your brain off for a few hours. killing yourself over this work won’t improve your scores-”

“Colson,” you interrupted, pulling your hand away from him. “I just need to review a bit more.”

“no,” he said sternly. “you need to rest. self-care and all that shit is just as important as studying.” he stood up from his spot on the floor, now towering over you. “come on, get up.” you gave him an annoyed look, practically telling him to F off. “no, come on, don’t give that shit. get up.”

he moved to your side of the table, and he pulled you up from the floor, despite your protests. to keep you from running back to your work, he threw you over his shoulder, and you yelped from surprise.

“put me down,” you whine, pounding your fists on his back. “you’re being a jerk.”

Colson carried you up the stairs toward his bedroom before finally setting you down in his ensuite. you landed on your feet quite ungracefully, only for Colson to pick you back up to place you on the counter. the two of you stared at each other for a moment. you glared while Colson silently challenged you to make a run for it.

he raised an eyebrow at you once he was sure you would stay before turning to the bathtub. he turned the water on and waited for it to heat up before stopping the drain.

when he finally turned back to you, he found you slumped over with your eyes fixated on the floor, as if you were trying to micro nap while you waited. he suddenly felt less confident in leaving you to take a relaxing bath alone while he fixed you up something to eat, now knowing that you were on the verge of sleep.

gently placing a hand on your cheek, he moved to hold you close while the tub began to fill. he rested his chin on the top of your head while you tucked yourself into his chest.

“was gonna leave you to take a bath, but I don’t want to leave you to drown in the tub if you’re going to fall asleep on me,” he murmured into your hair.

you let out a tired (and slightly loopy) laugh.

“you might have to join me,” you murmur into his shoulder.

“okay.”

with that, he moved to pull out two towels and dropped some fancy bath salts into the tub before finally moving to help you off the counter. he helped you slip out of your clothes before moving to undress himself, and then the two of you climbed into the tub together.

you sat with your back resting against his chest, and your head was resting against his shoulder. he let you close your eyes for a few minutes, allowing you to take a small nap. while you laid against him with your eyes closed, he gently ran a soapy washcloth against your skin to wipe away the fact that you hadn’t showered in at least two days.

“still with me?” Colson hummed lightly.

you nodded against his chest.

“do you want me to wash your hair?”

“yes, please.”

Colson’s heart melted at how small your voice sounded. wordlessly, he gently moved you forward so that he could rinse and wash your hair with the detachable showerhead. you rested between his knees while he ran his hands through your hair. you were seconds from falling asleep, his motions slowly luring you to sleep. once he was finished with you, he let you rest your head against his propped-up knee while he quickly rinsed and washed himself.

he watched you carefully as he moved to unplug the drain and to hang up the showerhead before gently running a hand over your cheek. you opened your eyes at his touch.

“ready to get out?” he asked softly, only receiving a sleepy nod from you.

he got out first, quickly wrapping a towel around his waist before holding your towel out for you. you stepped into the towel and let him wrap you up. after taking a minute to dry off, Colson grabbed the robe he got for you the last time you came to visit, and he wrapped it around you after taking your towel to expertly wrap your wet hair up in it.

you sat on the bathroom counter, slowly doing your skin care routine while he took a moment to dry himself off and put on a pair of boxers.

“you okay if I go fix you up something to eat?” Colson asked from the doorway, watching you apply your moisturizer.

“I’m okay,” you give him a small smile. “thanks, Cols.”

once you were finished, you dragged yourself to his bed, still wrapped in your robe with no motivation to put your pajamas on. you curled up against the pillows, letting yourself rest your eyes for a moment, while you waited for Colson.

“I made you a sandwich.”

you opened your eyes to find Colson kneeling on the bed next to you with a plate in his hand. you move to sit up to let him lean against the pillows next to you.

“you’re a saint,” you laugh lightly as you lean into his side.

“hardly a saint,” he laughed back at you as he handed you half of your sandwich while he grabbed half of his.

“a god?” you suggest taking the sandwich from him.

“maybe.” he raised his slice to you. “cheers.”

“cheers,” you laugh as you bump your sandwich against his. you took a moment to take your first bite. “oooo,” you call to him covering you mouth as you finish your bite. “you’re an angel. that’s what you are?”

“alright, you noob, knock it off,” he smiled at you. “if anyone’s an angel here, it’s you.”

“yeah, yeah, okay, you sap,” you nod back him before taking a bite.

the two of you let a comfortable silence fall over you as you finished your sandwiches. once you were both finished, Colson placed the plate on his nightstand before turning his attention back to you, only to find you already tucked under the covers. following you, he slipped under the covers before situating himself comfortably on his pillows. he pulled you into his chest, and you rested your head on his chest.

“thank you,” you murmur.

“for what?” he lightly stroked your damp hair.

“you always take care of me. I love you for that.”

“I’ll always take care of my girl.”

you lightly ran a hand up his arm, tracing his tattoos.

“you’re going to be a great doctor one day-”

“Cols,” you sigh with a defeated feeling sinking into your chest.

“I mean it,” he told you. “you’re so smart, and I know this is a really stressful time for you, and it’s really difficult for you, but I know you’re going to do great on your test. you’ve been studying nonstop for weeks. you know you’re prepared, and I know it may not feel like it because you’ve been taking so many practice tests and stuff, but I think a break would do you some good. you need a fresh start. get out of your head for a bit, you know? take a day to get out and have fun, and then you can go back to studying for the rest of the break.”

“Cols.”

“spend the day with me tomorrow. we can go to the beach, or we can go hiking, or shopping, or anything you want to do. let me get you out of this house.”

you let out a sigh, taking a moment to think. he wasn’t wrong. you needed to get out, and you needed a break.

“okay,” you sigh into his chest.

“good,” he smiled to himself as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. “now sleep.”

“don’t have to tell me twice,” you laugh lightly before nuzzling yourself into his chest so that you weren’t putting any strain on your neck. he reached a hand up and turned off the lamp, and darkness fell on both of you. “hey Cols?”

“hmmm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, (Y/N/N).”

hope you enjoyed! i took a break from some schoolwork to finish this piece. college is hard, my dudes. feel free to send requests! - rose xx

#colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker imagines #colson baker x reader #machine gun kelly imagines #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader

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knchins · 3 years

Text

Hunger - Todoroki S.

Summary: Todoroki Shouto doesn’t want to follow the footsteps of his father. On the brink of starvation, he hears the call of a witch who finds a way to fulfill both of their needs.

Pairing: Incubus!Shouto x Witch!Reader

Rating: E+

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Sm*t, v*ginal fingering, v*ginal s*x, oral s*x, c*nnilingus, choking, some mentions of (consensual) breeding, soft!dom Shouto, some begging ig, some mentions of sugar daddy/baby, Shouto is several centuries old and is of age, oh and some fluff

Notes: This was my very first request I think??? I got it months ago lol so idk if this person if even still following me RIP. But I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope they enjoy it wherever they are <3 I did deviate a little bit but not TOO much.Censored words is so I can show up in the gd tags.

Dealing with demons had become sort of a pastime for her, the young witch living in the secluded wood out in the countryside. She greatly enjoyed the remoteness, though sometimes it did come to a great disadvantage. Travelers would come, asking for potions or spell-work, something to help them with their troubles in life. As a grey witch (one who practiced both white and black magic), she tended to be able to help just about anyone with anything. Of course there were a few lines she wouldn’t cross such as raising the dead or directly causing death. She did have some morals after all, albeit somewhat controversial ones.

Whenever she needed an item that she simply had no access to, then she would call upon demons to aid her in her work. The first couple times she had been a little reluctant and she would be lying if she didn’t say she had a few close calls, but ultimately demons could be bartered with just as humans could. The lower leveled ones were rarely smart enough to outwit her or ask for something she just couldn’t give. So far, dealings were good and they only became better when she met him.

On the fourth or fifth time she called out for help, this time she needed a rare desert root for a drying spell, she followed the same procedure as always. She lit her candles, drew a summoning sigil on the floor, and chanted the words that would bring her the closest demonic being that felt the urge to heed her call. She specifically did it in a way that powerful demons would not be attracted. In fact, she would much prefer to keep them away for they were much smarter and more conniving, and ultimately not worth the risk. This time though...this time someone with a little more juice than what she normally found herself bargaining with appeared before her.

Todoroki Shouto was an incubus with the most prestigious lineage of any sex demon that resided in hell. His father was known by all demonic beings. He was number one in his class, The closest to king that anyone of them could truly be. He had also fathered more children than any other demon, enjoying ruining human women to the point that they could no longer be satisfied by mortal men. Shouto found it distasteful. The way Enji wold flux his hormones so that any woman within a few hundred feet would simply beg for him to fuck her, to breed her, to make her his. He had more half-siblings than he could count in addition to the three full-blooded ones. His mother had also been a high class demon with a pedigree, though her whereabouts were currently unknown.

He was minding his own business, taking a nice walk through the woods in the mortal realm when he heard the call. There was a tugging sensation on his chest and a melodic voice ringing in his ears. It was not a call for someone like him. Someone capable of such true power. Yet, something drew him in. Something about that voice had his interest piqued. He couldn’t resist answering her quickly, less some other demon came to her first.

He appeared before her, hair split down the middle perfectly. One half red like his father’s, the other white as his mother’s. One dark grey eye and another a brilliant blue, his white button-down shirt loose fitting with a few top buttons undone to show off his chest. If he wanted to lure in the opposite sex then he could with ease, but Todorki Shouto had a secret. One that made him much less powerful than he could be.

The witch was taken aback by the demon in front of her. He was certainly the most handsome she had ever seen, most lower level ones were not very pleasing to look at. It made them easier to deal with. Her curious eyes blinked as if to make sure he was really there. Immediately she could sense that something was off about him. Something wasn’t quite right, however she could not pinpoint what it was.

Shouto regretted answering the call immediately. The witch he had been summoned by was possibly the most beautiful creature he’d ever set eyes on. She was pure beauty and grace, more stunning than anyone residing in hell or earth. In fact, part of him wondered if maybe she was an angel. However the various bottles of herbs and assorted animal parts quickly led him to believe that she was not divine. She was simply mortal and in need of help.

“Oh an incubus.” She said, still looking very bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. “What a surprise. I’m not sure if you can help me or not. You’re a little out of my league.” The last part seemed like a joke but Shouto wasn’t entirely sure.

“Why did you call for me here?” He asked calmly, his face perfectly blank though his eyes were fixated on her.

“I’m in need of something for a spell.” She said honestly, “Sometimes I call upon demons to help me gather items I cannot easily get.”

“Is that not dangerous?” He asked, starting to look more intrigued than anything. “Do you not worry about your safety?”

The witch let out a nervous laugh, “Well, lower levels ones aren’t much of a problem for me. You’re a bit more than I’m used to. I’m surprised you even heard it honestly.”

Shouto knew immediately why he heard it. Because as it stood, his power level was that of some lower tier demon. He had only fed twice since coming of age. His hunger was almost maddening. It had been eating away at him for decades. But he would not be his father. He would not be a glutton for sex and breeding. He refused to follow in his very heavy footsteps.

“I was simply within range.” He said, though she knew that him happening to be close by to her didn’t really mean much. The spell was designed to not be heard by anyone over a certain power level. Could an incubus really be below that? “What do you need?”

“A root.” She replied, flipping through one of the many of her family’s grimoires. She found the page that had a drawn picture, name, and general description. “This one.”

“You’re doing a drying spell.” He said out loud by mistake. He knew because he had had this particular spell cast on him many times throughout the years, though recently it seemed to be working less and less. It was to dry up sexual desire. It was one of the few things that helped him get by so long without feeding. Without it he would have been driven insane by lust many decades ago.

The witch cocked her head at him curiously, “yes, I am. For a client. She’s tired of having children but her husband just won’t stay off of her. She’s hoping it’ll get him to stop.” She paused for a moment, “Can you get it?”

“Yes.” he replied dumbly, as if it were totally obvious.

“What is your price?” She asked then, realizing he didn’t catch the implied question.

Shouto thought for a moment, it was about time to recast the spell judging by the lecherous thoughts that were starting to cross his mind. “Can you perform another one?”

She looked perplexed for a moment before it dawned on her why he heard her incantation. He was starved. And he must have been for some time too. “I can but I think I can do something else for you that will be much more beneficial.”

“And what is that?” Shouto asked, wondering if perhaps there was another spell or potion out there that was more powerful and thus would be more effective.

“Just have sex with me.”

That was how it started. Any time the young witch needed something, she’d do a more specific summoning spell, one that only Shouto could hear. And every time he’d come, no matter what he was doing, to aid her. She would often jokingly call him her demonic sugar daddy because he provided everything for her for the low low price of coitus.

The first couple times had been a little awkward. Shouto’s abilities were almost dormant. He fumbled his way about her body which was quite embarrassing for a sex demon. However after a few practice rounds the two truly began to find what got the other off the most. And in half a dozen sessions Shouto was feeling power, but with power came hunger.

When he appeared before her hearth one night, without an invitation, the woman nearly threw an old vase full of nightshade at him in terror. She only put it down when she realized it wasn’t just any random intruder, but her newfound lover. She hadn’t needed anything in quite some time now. Hadn’t called on him because business had been rather slow and the jobs she did get, she didn’t need anything from him. Perhaps it was a little cruel of her to not call on him regardless, but she honestly did not know how much his appetite had grown. How it began to consume him until all he could think about was her, naked and writhing beneath him as he pounded into her. He craved her and only her. It was not something that ever really happened to Incubi. After all they could have anyone they wanted. But he didn’t want anyone else. He only had eyes for her.

“Shouto.” She breathed out, heart still racing as she set down the clay vase. “I wasn’t expecting you, did you need something?”

His eyes were fiery as he stepped towards her and she could smell the faint scent of hell on him. She wondered if maybe he had another argument with his father. He had told her a little about his family life during post-sex cuddles. It wasn’t much but she knew he hated the demon that sired him. He always seemed to be wound extra tight after coming straight from hell, and that was usually the reason.

“Go bend your ass over the bed.” He said, further unbuttoned the flowy shirt he typical wore. Her eyes grew wide, embarrassment heating her face as she took a small step away from him. It wasn’t really out of fear, just a simple reflex. He never really got demanding of her like this, maybe something was wrong.

But the warmth pooling between her legs told her that despite the interruption, despite having not planned this whatsoever, hearing him order her to get into the bedroom had her flooding with desire, and he could smell it.

Shouto didn’t really have to use his pheromones to seduce her. He was naturally attractive and had a body that looked as if it had been sculpted out of marble. No, he never used them before but he was definitely using them now and they had her weak in the knees as she trembled. She walked on shaky legs into her bedroom, keeping her thighs pressed together as she walked in an attempt to hide the wetness that was accumulating in her panties. It was pointless though. He could always tell.

He left his shirt in the living room and kicked off his boots on his way to the bedroom. He lost his pants at the entryway, watching as she leaned over the side of the bed and resting on her forearms. Her eyes large and doe-like at the rush of adrenaline. Sex with with a sex demon was always an unforgettable experience. It was easy to see how people went mad over it. The way he made her feel, the orgasms he gave her, none of it compared to any other lover she had ever had. Perhaps that was one reason why she had been so willing to listen to him just now. She knew he’d make her feel good, and who didn’t like to feel good?

Shouto padded over, dropping to his knees behind her as he pushed her skirt up over her ass so that the fabric could bunch at her waist. His nimble fingers hooked around the elastic of her panties and he slid them down with an odd amount of carefulness. He practically buried his nose into her sex, inhaling that sweet scent of arousal that had him feeling absolutely feral. His tongue came to prod at her clit, causing a small whimpering sound to come from her.

He dragged his tongue over every inch of her pussy, savoring it fully until she was a quivering mess with shaking knees that threatened to make her fall down. “Let me breed you.” He said between kitten licks. “You can have anything in return.”

They had been using protection until then. Sex demons were incredibly fertile and typically had no trouble creating offspring. But at the time when this started, Shouto didn’t want to sow his wild oats like his father had. This witch had him wanting to throw all of that to the wind. He just didn’t care. That drive to fuck without any sort of barrier was maddening.

Anything from a demon was a very big price tag, and Shouto had never tried to deceive her. He had never been anything other than honest. And despite all her teachers to never trust a demon, she found herself trusting him. Every time their bodies intertwined she fell more and more in love, no matter how much she had tried to resist. She had thought some distance would have helped ease her feelings, but apparently it had been hard on both of them.

“Y-yes,” She gasped out as he latched onto her clit to suck, “Ple-please, Shouto, fill me with your cum.” She was gripping the old quilt on her bed tightly to try and keep herself grounded, but the way he was eating her out, two lithe fingers now dipping into her dripping core made it impossible to even think straight. All she could think about was her simple need to have him inside of her.

He didn’t stop working his fingers or tongue until she hit her first peak, moaning out for him in a way that had him nearly cumming prematurely. The strain in his underwear was painful now as he throbbed with need. After one long lick along her slit he stood up, grabbing onto the globes of her ass for pretend support.

“Tell me what you want me to do, Little Witch.” He said as he pulled down his briefs and kicked them away as if they were the most offensive thing in the world to him. “You’re shaking like you want to say something. So say it.”

“I need you,” She said, somehow sounding out of breath despite not having done anything besides orgasm. “Shouto, I need you so much.” He wrapped one hand around his cock, pumping in slowly as he watched her continue to tremble. “Please fuck me!”

The amount of lust he was feeling for this one mortal woman was dizzying. No one had ever told him that one person could have this kind of effect on a demon. Neither his father nor his two older brothers. Was it that far fetched to think that something was happening to him that had never happened to them before? They all had a primal drive for sex but never towards one specific person. Shouto found that he desired no one else in any of the realms. He only wanted her.

He pushed it without any hesitation, feeling her tense suddenly at his thickness stretching her out. He watched with fascination as he disappeared inside of her cunt, the warm, wet feeling enveloping him like summer rain. “Fuck,” He couldn’t stop himself from cursing and just how amazing it felt to be inside her. It was like taking that first breath of fresh air after being held underwater for an extended period of time. It was so damn freeing.

The witch relaxed against the mattress, her eyes closed to focus on that beautiful feeling of him completing her with his cock. Shouto took hold of her hips to keep her upright and steady as he pulled out slowly before bottoming out all over again, her slick making for the best lubricant as he moved with ease.

It started slow. Shouto wanted to revel in the heat. He wanted to drink in the feeling of her walls clamping down around him. The sound of her tiny whimpers when he pushed all the way in after pulling out. But this was much too slow for her, she couldn’t handle such a torturous rhythm. Shouto had eternity but his little mortal did not. Her time was limited and the thought of that made his heart suddenly ache.

“F-Faster,” She dared to mumble to him, sometimes he’d punish her if she begged too much. If she didn’t let him enjoy himself properly. Today was not one of those days though. Today Shouto wanted to hear her cry for his cock.

So he obliged, increasing his pace as his fingers dug into the flesh of her hips. His witch began to moan even louder as he hit that sweet spot again and again, making her dizzy with ecstasy. She never lasted long when it came to sex with Shouto, something he took great pride in. He loved nothing more than to give her multiple orgasms.

But this view just wasn’t doing it for him. He pulled out abruptly, making her cry at the sudden emptiness. He flipped her over onto her back, ripping at her blouse so that it was torn wide open for him. Then he tugged down her bra to free her breasts before reinserting himself into her. He watched her face contort with pleasure, the glossy look in her eyes as he began to pound into her at a relentless pace. The hypnotizing way her tits bounced with every thrust, they were just so perfectly in sync with one another. It was the definition of beauty.

Shouto brought a thumb to her clit, lightly pressing on it in a way that had her clamping down on him even more. It was as if she was trying to suck him in deeper, never wanting to be without him again. He grunted at this sensation, eyes burning with lust as her mouth made that perfect “o” formation with her eyes rolling back as her second orgasm overcame her.

He never talked much during sex, choosing to be a silent observer. Every now and then he’d give a command or order, but that was about it. He had never been much one for dirty talk like his father or eldest brother. The witch was fine with this. He made it hard enough for her to think without adding the pressure of comprehending something as complex as language.

Just when she thought he might be coming to his end, he increased his pace even more. She whined, still feeling incredibly sensitive from the first two orgasms. At least he had the decency to take his thumb from her aching clit. Instead he reached up and wrapped his hand around her bare throat, squeezing just enough to lessen the flow of oxygen and blood to her brain.

She gasped for air, her moans less audible now as air came out in strangled puffs. He would loosen just enough to give her a small break before tightening back up again. She grabbed at his wrist, and he waited for her sign that it was too much. A double tap anywhere on his body with her pointer and middle finger, or their safe word if she could manage it was all he needed to tell him that he’d gone too far. But neither came and so he continued to abuse her pussy with a pace so fast no human could possibly keep up, and only when she was screaming his name a third time did he finally release himself.

Shouto came inside her for the very first time. Normally he pulled out even with a condom on. He really wanted to take no risk. This time, this time he had to claim her as his somehow. If any other demon were to come to her then then they’d smell him all over her. They’d think twice before crossing a Todoroki, that was just how well known his family was.

He removed his hand from her neck, before leaning down to kiss it softly. His nose nuzzled the underside of her jaw in a way that might have appeared to be loving if either of them knew what that word really meant. Her heavy breathing slowly calmed down, delicate fingers squeezing his biceps with care. A simple sign to tell him that she was alright and that he did good. She had found that sometimes he needed encouragement. Sometimes he wasn’t as confident as he pretended to be. But small reassurances were really all he needed to bounce back to normal.

“Can you stay the night?” She mumbled. Any time she asked, any time she was feeling particularly weak for him, he would turn her down. Saying he had other things to do. Saying it just wouldn’t be proper. Making any excuse he could.

This time Shouto did not move from on top of her. His mound clouded with the afterglow of such an intense orgasm. He knew then that he’d do anything for her. Anything at all. And because of that realization he hummed back a simple affirmative. He’d stay as long as she would have him.

#todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #bnha #mha #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #todoroki shouto imagine #bnha requests

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nogunsjustrosess · 3 years

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Israel 'defending itself' is a laughable phrase when they have all the military power and technology and respond to whatever attacks Palestinians initiate with homemade rockets and rocks tenfold with more civilian deaths. they wouldn't have to defend themselves if they weren't occupying palestinian land and brutally suppressing its people. the fixation on Hamas which was created YEARS into the conflict, long after Israel had already been perpetrating war crimes, is just a way to deflect from the reality that Israel is a colonial project that is killing Palestinian babies in the name of self defense. consider why you want to justify IDF soldiers shooting at people who are running away from them, surrendering. these people live in a prison. they have no clean air or water. Israel controls everything - their electricity, their sewage systems, controls where they come and go. they have no freedoms. it is not even a remotely comparable situation. Israel has ALL the power, Palestine has NONE.

I will answer you thoroughly because I want you to take the time and read this response, there are MANY incorrections and misconceptions here that I hope are the results of being simply misinformed and not something way worse.

not gonna flood your feed so I’m putting everything under the tag.

“Israel 'defending itself' is a laughable phrase when they have all the military power and technology and respond to whatever attacks Palestinians initiate with homemade rockets and rocks tenfold with more civilian deaths.”

The asymmetry you’re talking about - tech and military wise - being your justification as to why Israel just has to endure ‘homemade rockets and rocks’ is fucked up. First of all, these are NOT just homemade rockets.

Hamas has multiple types of rockets - and let me tell you - they are NOT homemade. Hamas is the third wealthiest terror organisation according to forbes. They receive money from Qatar and Jordan, as well as many other countries that think they fund help for the Palestinian. They don’t, Hamas uses all that money to launch thousands of top notch rockets and missiles to Israel, instead of helping the people of Gaza. Do you think homemade rockets look like this? do you think they can do this? maybe this?

this?

or that?

I wrote about the rocks Palestinians throw at soldiers and civilians here, last week, an Israeli Jewish man was beaten to death and murdered by rocks in Lod by radical Israeli Arabs who identify as Palestinians. This is only the most recent occurrence - but it happens all the time and poses a serious life threat since the rocks thrown aren’t cute little beach stone, they’re big chunks of rock meant to kill, and using them as weapons is illegal in multiple countries around the world because of how dangerous it is.

Gaza has more civilian deaths, that’s for sure. Again asymmetry that raises the brutal question - why there aren’t more Israeli people dying? Now, Israel does have a better system and way better protective measures against missiles and rockets. Do you want to know why? Israel invests millions in shelters, protective spaces and most of all - the Iron Dome. Hamas invests the same amounts of money in arming itself with missiles they launch at Israeli civilians (Jewish, Arab and Christians). Also, Hamas launches missiles and rockets from civilian areas so when they malfunction they also blow up around the same areas.

“they wouldn't have to defend themselves if they weren't occupying palestinian land and brutally suppressing its people.”

Do you realize that they wouldn’t have to ‘defend themselves’ if they weren’t shooting at Israel in the first place? They are NOT defending themselves, Hamas has been continually sending missiles to Israel with no regard to human lives - not Israel’s nor theirs. Also, Israel has withdrawn all its settlements in 2005 with the exception of some parts in the Gaza strip, so not so much for your occupation, unless you believe the entire land of Israel is an occupation, and in that case - you’re historically incorrect.

“the fixation on Hamas which was created YEARS into the conflict, long after Israel had already been perpetrating war crimes”

The ‘fixation’ on Hamas is the direct result of the pure fact they are actively trying to MURDER Israeli civilians every single day. You are correct by saying the conflict is way older than Hamas and way more complicated than them (you see, that’s why you DON’T get your info from infographics folks) but before Hamas there was the terror organisation Hezbollah from Lebanon (that very recently decided to join the party and fire missiles from the northern border to Israel as well), the Muslim Brotherhood and of course, ISIS. They are the terror organisations that continuously try to wipe Israel and everybody in it for good, committing endless war crimes. You all shout war crimes when Israel is the only country trying to minimise and prevent the harm done to Palestinians, often on its own expanse - like here, yesterday Israel tried to ship some resources to Gaza but the shipments were attacked by Palestinians.

“a way to deflect from the reality that Israel is a colonial project that is killing Palestinian babies in the name of self defense.”

You guys love that argument - Israel killing Palestinian babies. Well here and here you can see well planned attacks on Hamas HQ and offices that were called off last minute because it was revealed civilians and children were present. This is something the army tries to avoid at all cost, even if it means losing millions, as well as months and sometimes years of intelligence gathering. That’s because Israel values human lives more than anything! Every possible effort to eliminate the threat to innocent lives WILL be made on the expense of anything. Except, Hamas doesn’t play by those rules, they have been known to deliberately hide Intelligence HQ, offices, and even high level terrorist amongst civilians, as well as schools, hospitals - and our newest example - news buildings. Putting human lives in danger because they use Israel’s refusal to kill civilians as an advantage. Unfortunately, that also means many time Israel doesn’t know about the presence of civilians there and horrible deaths happen. That’s very much on Hamas.

“is just consider why you want to justify IDF soldiers shooting at people who are running away from them, surrendering. these people live in a prison.”

Listen, IDF soldiers are rarely allowed to shoot anyone - most of them don’t even carry any weapons but pepper spray. But the ones who do suffer very severe consequences if they misuse their weapons and they need to justify themselves in a court marshall . For example a couple of years ago a 19 years old soldier shot a terrorist that tried to stab his friend, he went through multiple court marshalls and even a civil trial, as well as months in prison. Believe me, this is not something any soldier would want to go trough unless their life was in grave danger and they had to shoot. (maybe America could learn a thing or too).

“they have no clean air or water. Israel controls everything - their electricity, their sewage systems, controls where they come and go. they have no freedoms. it is not even a remotely comparable situation. Israel has ALL the power, Palestine has NONE.”

Lastly, please do your research. First of all, Gaza is currently controlled by Hamas. And has been since its election almost 15 years ago. They control the resources Palestinians get or don’t get, and again - they choose to spend the billions they get in funds by buying missiles and weapons. The only thing Israel truly controls is the border with Israel, and like any other border it’s monitored and controlled, especially since it’s a favoured place for terrorist to execute attacks. Don’t forget there’s a border with Egypt as well.

We’re not talking about Israel vs Palestinians. We’re talking about Israel vs Hamas - a blood thirsty, antisemitic terror organisation that has no value for human lives whatsoever. And still, Israel is the one who gets blamed and condemned.

(and i have to thank @mysteryspotillusions because she did such a great job and I link to her posts several times!)

#zionism #israel #free palestine #anon

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cybernaght · 3 years

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The Rebel/叛逆者: A Review of Sorts

After being only semi-invested in the Rebel, I ended up getting so into it in the final weeks of its release, I’ve shelled out on IQIYI premium just to get the final couple of episodes a few days earlier.

That’s right kids, it’s a Review of Sorts. Unfortunately, I could not find a translation of the novella the drama is based on, so will be looking at it as a separate entity.

Most of this post is spoiler-free, however I have dedicated a few paragraphs at the end of it to discussing the final episode, as there are a few specific things about it I wanted to mention. There is a clear spoiler warning before that part.

If you don’t want to risk it, TL;DR version of this review goes something like this: Rebel is very decent, and positively one of the best things that I have seen to come out of China since I’ve jumped into that particular rabbit hole. It’s pretty well written, it’s very beautifully dressed and shot, and the cast is killing it. I thought it dropped the ball a little in post production, and I did not always love the pacing. Other than that, it’s incredibly decent, and well worth watching, unless communist propaganda really irks you, in which case stay very well away.

I have been having many conversations with @supernovasimplicity all the way through watching this drama, so there are likely to be some thoughts here that are influenced by those.

The story centers around Lin Nansheng, a struggling servicemen in the Guomingdang party. He has a great analytical mind, and absolutely no emotional capacity for his job. He has trouble handling violence, he is impulsive, he cannot speak to his superiors without bursting into tears, and has nothing even remotely resembling a poker face. And that is what makes this drama as enjoyable as it is.

I don’t think Lin Nansheng’s journey would have been nearly as exciting had he started it from a place of competence. He botches up everything he touches because his big brain switches off the moment his emotions kick in. And so, when you see him grow in confidence, learn to control himself, learn to fake his smiles and compliments, you can’t help but feel a strange sense of pride. It also makes Lin Nansheng very likeable as a character for reasons other than Zhu Yilong’s ability to look like a bush baby.

It did take me a while to feel fully engaged with his performance - not because there is anything lacking in it, but just because it’s hard to be truly surprised by his choices after the exposure I have given myself to his work. That said, at about a half-way point I got charmed by him anyway, and there were quite a few scenes that were truly mesmerising. There were scenes where he broke out of the familiar mould of big unguarded eyes and fluttering wet eyelashes, and tried something that was not pretty: every time to a great success. I am hoping to see more of that in his future work.

I really wanted to like the female lead, Zhu Yizhen, but unfortunately both the way she was written and the way she was performed by Tong Yao left me somewhat cold. It did not help of course that the screenplay ended up sidelining her at every turn, leaving her with very little personal agency. She was set up so interestingly, but in the end her sole purpose became being someone for Lin Nansheng to pine over. It is particularly curious from a perspective of meta storytelling: seeing how this is all centered around superiority of communism, which as a whole was, arguably, ahead of its time in the matters of binary gender equality.

The ensemble cast of the drama is stunning. Wang Yang came very close to stealing the show at several points as Chen Moqun, somehow managing to make his rather unlikeable character interesting. I can say the same thing about Zhu Zhu who absolutely shined as Lin Xinjie, showing an incredible range and imagination in her performance.

The overarching story of the show is engaging, with some incredibly suspenseful elements; every narrative arc including a nice progression through it. As spy thrillers go, it was fairly well plotted. You could if you go looking for a few things that did not pay off in a satisfying way (notably, the Chekhov’s cyanide capsule), but you overall the story really was well told for the most of it.

I did, however, feel like the pacing started to fall apart in the last quarter of the drama. Last episode in particular really did feel rushed, not just due to its pace, but also in a way it failed to pay off the final mission in any visible way. There will be more on that in the spoiler section of this post.

Important to note that The Rebel is a show made in Communist China in the year 2021. It does not ideologically side-step from the path that was laid out for it by that fact. Which is to say, it is, undeniably, filled with propaganda. Communists are the good guys, and if you think a good guy (or gal) is not a communist, they probably secretly are. With one exception of a friendly character who is not a communist, and whose fate we actually never find out. Curious, that.

The Rebel is not a kind of a show where censorship-appeasing scenes are shoehorned in. It’s a kind of a show in which the main theme is Sacrifice For the Party.

Aside from the being the moral vector of the show, Mao’s gentle teachings explicitly help get Ling Nansheng out of prolonged depression following his injury, and almost annoyingly, this sat incredibly well with the character, as he was written. Lin Nansheng is conceived as this naive idealist who wants to be on the front line, who needs validation and support of others. His - and I can’t believe I’m saying this - his being disillusioned in his beliefs and choosing to join a party which includes people whom he likes and trusts makes sense. Him finding this one thing that gives him hope and letting it propel him into gaining confidence and competence makes sense.

In many ways, the Rebel is a story of Lin Nansheng’s failure to become an antagonist within the world of the drama.

I have honestly spent this past couple of weeks pondering whether being well written makes political propaganda better or worse, whether the subtlety of it makes it more or less palatable, whether it’s enough, as a viewer, to be aware of it to shrug it off. Ultimately, this is not something I could or should make moral judgements on, but I do believe that it’s possible to acknowledge the fact that propaganda exists in the drama, and still appreciate it for a good piece of television that it is.

That said, I am very well aware that me being kind of okay with it stems entirely from my own removal from the culture this is made in, and I am, perhaps, lucky to even have a choice as to whether I want to engage with a product which is, undoubtably, here to dress political ideology in fancy clothes.

I have, on the other hand, also seen many things in Russian media of the “Annexation of Crimea is Good Actually” variety and those make me feel very unwell, so feeling somewhat at ease with blatant political propaganda in Chinese media makes me the biggest hypocrite.

But, I digress.

Before we go into some specific plot-related things, I would like to mention that the Rebel has this weird dichotomy in which the production is sublime, and the post-production… not so much. The show very well shot. Every element of it sits perfectly together, not a single prop out of place, not a single extra underdressed, not a page of script not put to good use. It’s lit to perfection. It’s scored beautifully. So much of this show is just stunning.

And then… there is post-production.

This is not even about bad CGI (and the CGI is, indeed, bad), it’s just that most of post-production as a whole feels rushed.

Starting with surprisingly imperfect editing, which at times just fails to make the scene flow together. The final line of dialogue would be spoken within a scene, and it would fade to black instantly without a single breath to indicate a full stop. A montage sequence would be created, but every shot within it condensed to a second, making it feel incredibly fast-paced when the effect should be the opposite. There would be a cut away from a speaking character and to the same speaking character from a slightly different angle, making it dynamic without any reason to do so. There are a couple of truly startling jump-cuts.

I did not speed this gif up. This is part of a romantic montage, edited like it’s a goddamn action sequence.

And of course dear old friend slowing down footage shot at 24FPS. Please don’t do this. You think no one notices - but we do.

There are other tell-tale signs of production rushing to the finish line: occasional, but very noticeable ADR glitches, very sloppy job done at sound mixing, which contribute to parts of the show feeling ever so slightly off.

It’s not unforgivable, but it does make me wish the same amount of care and efforts that went into shooting this drama would also go into it after it was all in the can.

Oh, and just because if you know me you know I have a professional fixation on fights, and I am happy to say most action scenes are toe-curlingly delightful. Hot damn those fights are good. I am absolutely in love with the shot below, for example. Placing an actor behind a piece of set so he can exchange places with the stunt double during a one shot is such an old trick, but the execution, timing and camerawork are just... flawless. This is what perfection looks like.

Now we got all that out of the way...

SPOILERS FOR THE SERIES FINALE BELOW

Here’s the thing. I wanted to love the ending and I found that I could not.

The final mission was presented as important, and honestly the scene in which Zhu Yizhen is sending the vital message out as Lin Nansheng holds his ground in hand to hand fight is incredibly dynamic. Party, this is due to the fight itself being incredibly well choreographed, yes, but it’s also where it sits within the narrative, how high the stakes are for everything surrounding it.

But then, the tension all but bleeds out. The Important Message is sent, the fight is won, and we are treated to ten minutes of a very slow car chase, problem of which is not even its speed as much as its placing within the story. As in, by this point both of those operatives have lost their cover, and completed their Very Important Mission. It would be very sad if they died, but their survival does not technically contribute to their cause. Moreover, Zhu Yizhen getting mortally injured in order to protect Lin Nansheng as part of her mission read a little empty when the mission is technically over.

While I personally found Lin Nansheng slow recuperation and his low key ending enjoyable, I think I would have preferred to have seen a more tangible pay-off to all the sacrifices made in the name of “bright communist future”, just a little more justification for every moment of death and despair we witnessed. I would have certainly at the very least preferred to see Wang Shi’an’s death on screen. Considering how many likeable characters martyred themselves on screen, denying us the death of the one antagonist just seemed cruel.

I really did love the ambiguity of the final few scenes however, if we consider the children choir at the end a fantasy. The idea that Lin Nansheng will live out his life in this hope that Zhu Yizhen is still alive, imagining her just outside of his field of vision, his only joy being in this fantasy of her… now, that is incredibly strong. I equally like the idea of rest being promised to him at the end of his journey, and said rest being painful, and slow and unwelcome.

But it felt like as they chose not to to lean into the “sweet” part of the bitter-sweet tone of the ending and we’re unable not commit to the “bitter” part either, so it lands with a splat which is somewhat lacklustre.

---

This concludes my thoughts on the Rebel.

I am more or less out of Zhu Yilong’s filmography to watch, which is probably a good thing at this point. I have just emerged out of several back to back work projects - literally today - and will hopefully once more have time for things I grew to enjoy doing during the lockdown.

Those things, if you have not guessed, include watching Chinese television and writing things about Chinese television.

#the rebel #叛逆者 #Zhu Yilong #review of sorts #now with gifs #chinese drama

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dreamywriterinthedark · 3 years

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Museum Dates: part 2

Part one

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (no specific pronouns used, Reader wears a dress)

Resume: Reader surprises Spencer for their first year anniversary, the same way he did with Reader, at an art gallery at night. They dance and it’s just too romantic (dream with me💕).

Category: so fluffy!

Trigger warnings: mention of alcohol (please let me know if i forgot something)

It has been one year since you and Spencer have been together. You have been together ever since you went on a date at that nocturne exhibition. To honour your love, he gifted you a bracelet with the time of when you first kissed engraved on it with a heart. This time you were the one who decided to surprise him. Your friend has this art gallery in the historic center; therefore, close to the historical museum where you originally went on your first date. You made her an offer to rent the gallery for the night, an offer she gladly accepted excited to hear your updates the next morning.

It took weeks of preparation since you wanted it to be perfect. It was highly challenging for you to keep this surprise a surprise; you were dating a profiler! He asked you to move in with him which you half declined. It would have been impossible to plan your surprise and move in with him at the same time especially if he gave you a hand, which he most definitely would’ve. He would’ve noticed all of the evidence therefore it would’ve been ruined! No body, no crime… Plus him feeling disappointed or left out was perfect to amplify the joy overcoming him when he discovers your entire mascarade just like in movies when the characters would pretend to forget someone’s birthday to surprise them later on. You told him you simply weren’t ready to move in with him which he completely understood.

However, since you were scared of getting profiled by him at work, you would make excuses to decline plans, you would panic and avoid to answer questions. It most definitely did not go unnoticed by him who took it as a clue you didn’t trust him or worse. Each time you lied to him a little piece of his heart broke. So he sat there at the edge of his desk hands in his pocket staring blankly at the ground, the last one in the bureau illuminated by the static flickering light above him. Those lights reminded him of hospitals, specifically the one where he stayed after getting shot, you would bring him jello and would read to him his favorite books.

He sat there, deep in thoughts, swallowing the lump in his throat. His eyes slightly open as if the truth was right in front of his eyes but he just couldn’t see it clearly and it was. His phone buzzed, it was you; “John Keats, p113.” He rose to his feet to grab the copy of poetry collection on his desk. The title of the poem was “An ode to autumn” and that’s when it hit him. In between the pages was a raven wax sealed envelope. He opened it full of apprehension, it read in your beautiful italic handwriting; “Meet me at the Melrose art gallery at 10PM sharp.” He grabbed his coat hurrying out of the office, a small smile displayed on his face as the elevator door slowly shut.

Once Spencer arrived he texted you because there was no way in, the doors were locked (safety measures). You started panicking adjusting the lights so they were dimmed. You checked your reflection, you were stunning. You wore a black dress with some sultry perfume that could be smelled from across the room. He waited in front of the door hearing your Mary Jane clicks progressively louder as you made your way to the door opening it up for him.

He walked in his eyes fixated on you, his cheeks flushed, you flet the tip of his nose cold on your cheek when he leaned in to kiss you. You turned your head grabbing his hand to lead him toward the biggest room in the entire gallery. There were peonies in white and blue vases along with many vanilla candles. The record player played soft muffled sounds, the song it was on was “Old enough to love” by Ricky Nelson. It matched you well, being the babies of the BAU.

“Will you dance with me ?” he responded by nodding because he was smiling too hard to be able to form any word. There you were slow dancing in the dimly lit room. He held your hand squeezing it from time to time, you felt his warm breathe fan over your neck. He pulled you in closer thanks to his arm being snaked around your waist. The next song to play was “Say Yes To Heaven” by Lana Del Rey. It reminded you of him, you found the lyrics quite touching; if you fight, I’ll fight//Give peace a chance, let the fear you have fall away. Spencer made you twirl watching your dress move gracefully in sink with your body. You almost fell from tripping on your shoes but he reaffirmed his gentle grip on you. You both chuckled.

Once the music stopped, the one you carefully chose since each part of your romantic evening was planned. You sat down on a pile of pillows while sipping on peach white wine. You handed him a heart shaped box that recollected all your favorite memories, from the museum tickets, to pressed flowers you made with the bouquets he would gift you (you made a journal of them where you would analyse them: the etymology behind their names, what they meant, for example lilies were symbolised death), to pictures, to love letters. Until he found a remote, you asked him to click on it, nothing happened.

You got up helping him up as well. You hand turned the lights off. The room didn’t have a ceiling but tinted windows in a sphere shape which was perfect for what he turned on; a projection of the sky on the night you first kissed. He looked up at the stars in awe of the beauty right in front of his eyes. You explained to him where this sky was from and why you were projecting it.

“Spencer, what time is it ?” You asked.

“11:29PM” he shut his eyes a second too long; again, it hit him, you first kissed at 11:31PM. He made his way toward you cupping your cheeks in hands while your hands rested on his waist. The kiss was passionate, slow, harmonious; everything you wanted it to be. You smiled out of it pointing at a constellation; “Look, it’s Cygnus!” Purposely expecting him to start his rambling.

“Cygnus is a northern constellation lying on the plane of the Milky Way, deriving its name from the Latinized Greek word for swan. Cygnus is one of the most recognizable constellations of the northern summer and autumn. It is symbolises weddings, romance, love, anniversaries…” his gaze drifted back to you. You were already staring at him an eyebrow cocked smirking at him. Again, it hit him. This date night was a game of chess which you were many moves ahead of him.

“I have to say, I’m impressed.”

“Oh but I’m not done yet!”

“What? Seriously?!”

You nodded leaving, he froze for a second before trotting to you like a lost puppy. He followed you to a staircase which led to the roof. There was not much space on the roof since it was mostly occupied by the sphere like windows but the edges were big enough to let you walk through them, sit and even for a telescope…

“See the sparkly dot right next to Scorpio ?”

“I guess…”

“Here take a look” you said to him gesturing toward the telescope.

“It is beautiful, Y/n, it truly is but what about it ?” He knew you weren’t the one that was going to give him a class on the universe. Spencer was one of kind, the most brilliant scientist you’ve ever met, he gave you the scientific facts about the stars and constellations, you would give him the spiritual meanings behind them. You would complete each other in knowledge just like that. You fished out a tube of paper with a bow tied around it. He took it and after a split second of shock which showed on his face started freaking out. He squeezed you so tight.

“Oh my god, Y/n, I can’t believe you got me a star! This is the best gift I’ve ever received!” His voice was so high from the excitement he almost squealed.

“The brightest star for the brightest mind.”

To top it off, you saw a shooting star and you could swear in this instance you both made the same wish.

#spencer x y/n #spencer #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #imagine #fanfic #blurb #prompt #fluff #love #romance #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #matthew gray gubler

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shanzodragoness · 3 years

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On the back of my previous post, I couldn't resist to help fill a gap in fics. Here I am.

Title: An Old Flame

Tags: a bit sad, fluff, but don't worry it gets better

Notes: you work for Stark, after taking the wrong turn you find yourself in the hands of the TVA and promptly pruned. Not saying much else as it'll spoil the fun

My sincerest apologies if this is substandard, this is my first reader fic and the first written in second person. This took me a while bc the feels were intense. Enjoy

Y/F/F - your favourite flower

Words: 1622

----

Your nexus event was confusing. The TVA claimed that you were fated to turn the other way when the Avengers returned to Stark Tower with their newest intergalactic villain. But for some reason you noticed the stare of those blue eyes from across the hall. You noted the muzzle; probably for a good reason. Curiosity carried your feet across the tiled floor and you heard footsteps behind you.

Fast forward an undisclosed amount of time and you were in a court, one that seemed very biased without a juror in sight. You had cocked your head when the judge sentenced you to be reset, what could that possibly mean, could you amend your mistake and simply go back to retrace your steps but as they were meant to be?

It seemed that you weren't getting away with your so-called crime so easily as one of the minutemen approached you with a stick. It wasn't until it was twisted and whirred to life that you realised the gravity of the situation. Did it hurt? The sensation was akin to a quick shock as you saw your body begin to disappear from your stomach outward, the yellow energy dissolving your being.

Your head hurt, your body ached, the light stung your eyes as you attempted to flutter your eyes open. Your eyes fixated on a shadow that eventually gave way to a brightly clothed old man, looking like a costume for a child's birthday party. The two golden horns on his headdress bowed forward and curled back, a feature shared by three of the four beings before you. The old man extended a hand to you as your ears began to tune into the world.

"Y/N?" He asked. Your streetwise nature told you to run, that you didn’t know this man regardless if he knew your name or not. Instinct however, that told you that you could trust this man, that in the grand scheme of things that you knew him, that he'd protect you.

You took his glove clad hand in yours, him pulling you to your feet. "We need to keep moving," he said, his gaze betraying a sadness as he locked his sight with yours.

The four began walking off, counting the pet alligator, and you followed them. In this strange world you doubted that you'd make it on your own anyway, "are you running from someone?" You asked the group. The older one turned his head to regard your query.

"Alioth hungers for the pruned variants that are dumped here by the TVA," he replied. There it was again, this time you could see regret spark his eyes. You'd have to ask later.

After a trek through the wasteland filled with junk from many different ages, you were presented with an open hatch in the ground, "after you," the kid said. You nodded and climbed down the ladder, taking in the large bunker you had entered. A few chairs dotted to one side facing a makeshift throne, many trinkets adorned the living area, souvenirs from the surface. As soon as the click of the hatch reached your ears your heart sank, that rational part of your brain considered that you could've been trapped here. Again, part of you calmed upon seeing the older man.

The kid sat on the throne and seemed to be the leader of this strange place. The dark skinned man sat down first, the others following his lead, and so you sat on a free chair next to the old man. You felt safe. You focused on the chatter of the men

"So, after I vanquished Captain America and Iron Man, I claimed my prize, all six Infinity Stones," the dark skinned man said. The alligator growled from it's paddling pool.

"That's alligator for growling and saying "liar" at the same time," the old man translated.

"At least my nexus event wasn't eating the wrong neighbor's cat." And as soon as he'd offended the animal, the old man pried the alligator off the dark skinned man. They laughed and you cleared your throat.

"What are your names?" You asked, omitting introducing yourself as it had been established that they somehow knew your name. You saw the pain rise to the surface again in the old man's eyes, but it was quickly suppressed.

"I'm Loki, so are the others. We're variants of the same being, from different timelines," he explained. You nodded and took in the information. They drank wine and you even sipped a bit of the hearty red wine offered to you. Soon Alligator Loki closed his eyes and curled up in the pool, Boastful and Kid leaving to different sections of the bunker. The style of the old man's clothes looked very retro, and so the nickname in your mind materialised as Classic Loki. He was watching the last of his wine swirl in the goblet.

"What was your nexus event?" You asked. He looked up from his wine slowly and locked his eyes with yours.

"In my timeline, everything proceeded correctly, my entire life, until Thanos attacked our ship.

"I cast a projection of myself so real, even the Mad Titan believed it. Then hid as inanimate debris. After I faked my death, I simply drifted in space. Away from Thor, away from everything. Thought about the universe and my place in it, and it occurred to me that everywhere I went, only pain followed. So I removed myself from the equation, landed on a remote planet and stayed there in isolation, in solitude for a long, long time.

"To tell you the truth, I missed my brother, and I wondered if he missed me, if anybody else did. But as soon as I took my first steps to getting off the planet, the TVA arrived."

"I'm sorry," you said, it seemed the most appropriate response.

"Don't be," he replied, his watchful gaze lingering on yours.

"Ever since I woke up, I felt scared, but something deep inside told me I was safe. Have we met before? I have a strange feeling that I know you from somewhere," the words came tumbling from your lips faster than you could stop the bumbling speech. You saw a smile grow on his face, and for the first time you saw that sadness turn into a glint of hope.

"Y/N my dear, in my timeline I met you on Midgard, the realm you call Earth. My brother convinced me to wear some Midgardian clothes to fit in for a little sightseeing under his guard, the incident in New York made freedom that tiny bit beyond my reach. You were a beautiful maiden I met in the coffee shop Thor took us to. I found out you worked for Stark, and I spent the next few months courting you, as awkward as that was in a cell. Each time you checked on the prisoner I conjured you a gift, sometimes lavish jewellery that you joked that you'd not be able to hide from the others." He laughed as he recalled the memory. "When I was finally granted free roam of certain floors in the Tower I'd always make sure to conjure a vase of flowers on your desk every morning and find ways to see you. A year later we not so subtly decided to take the next step together. The exquisite diamond ring I placed on your finger whilst kneeling for my queen."

You smiled at him, he spoke of you with a great fondness that it brought a tear to your eye. The man's joy was dampened once again.

"We never had the chance to become husband and wife, I brought you to Asgard, well, SHIELD sent you as a liaison officer. Ragnarok came. The ship. It was supposed to take you with the other refugees, Thanos had you killed first to demonstrate his threat to kill anyone who stood in his way to get the Tesseract. You know the rest of the story."

When you watched his reaction, he looked broken again, and you hated to see him so fragile after everything he'd told you. You stood up and looked down at the gap on the cushioned seat. He knew what you were asking, and so he shuffled to the side to allow you enough space to sit next to him. "Could you do me a favour?"

He looked down at you and a soft smile played on his lips. "Of course."

"Can you show me what the ring looked like?" You asked. His smile grew as his green seidr fluttered over your left hand and a flick of his fingers caused the seidr to swirl over your ring finger. When the magic subsided you saw the most intricately cut diamond you'd ever seen, the gold was woven at its base like flowers holding the stone in place. You didn't see the look of adoration that he gave you whilst you inspected the ring. When you turned you grinned at him. "I never thought that anyone would propose to me."

He moved his arm to hover over your shoulders, "may I?" He asked. You nodded and the adoration was back, he was unsure of himself even when you accepted him. His hold was firm yet gentle, showing how much he didn't want to let you go this time.

"Loki, I'd like to stay here with you. Maybe we can rebuild the life you remember we had."

"I will, dear Y/N. But before that," his green magic swirled between his barely clenched hand and formed a bunch of beautiful Y/F/F. "I must bestow my gifts upon you once more, every one, in the order that I gave them to you."

---

Tag list:

@sonhadoraativa @octopus5555 @stayfabulous @hubert-the-pterabug @russianbutchcrushing

#classic loki #reader #helping filling the gap #loved writing this #fluff #classic loki x reader

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purpureumwrites · 3 years

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Din Djarin x Jedi!Reader | Memories Ch.2

A/N: What are we gonna do now that there are no more episodes until 2022? T__T I love him. And this can potentially have more parts, tbh. So if anyone has an idea for the next (like the anon who suggested this one, hope you like it!), then just let me know!

Summary: Reader is a jedi who has decided to travel with Din and the child. They meet Ahsoka [I was tempted to make it steamy in the end, but didn’t HMM]

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 3

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1.4k

Tagged: @k-n-teeg

A few months ago, you had met a mandalorian. A mandalorian and his child, another force-sensitive like you that had received some prior training when the now ruined jedi temple in Coruscant was still standing. Hopeful, he had asked for you to take the child and train him, as if being jedi automatically made you capable of teaching him.

After Order 66 was executed, you had left everything behind and ran for your life. You traveled to poor and remote planets in the galaxy, where nothing of value could be harvested or mined and the Empire wouldn’t care conquering. It was lonely, but safe. From time to time, some news sneaked to that edge of the universe, and this way, through conversations in decaying, rusty cantinas, you became aware of the fate of the jedi.

It wasn’t until years later, after the Empire had fallen that you went back to more populated worlds but, even then, it was solitary. Those who had survived were so few that you didn’t see a point in looking for them. Your friends were most likely dead. There was no jedi order. The days where you had hope were long gone.

And then, this mandalorian, radiating so much love and concern, put this child in your hands. You refused at first, unsure of yourself. You never had a padawan before, in fact, you were still a padawan when the Republic fell. But Din, who had already lost his creed not long ago, was determined. So you struck a deal. Three months, where you would stay with them, test and train the child. Afterwards, you were free to leave and he would continue looking for a jedi.

Of course, by the time the decision was due, you had little choice. You had grown attached to the little one very quickly, partially because he was small and cute, partially because he was the first force-sensitive you had met in years. And Din... was a whole different matter. It had been so easy getting used to spending every minute of the day together. It just made sense. He didn’t seem bothered by your recurrent nightmares and you clicked pretty quickly.

He was easy to love. When he got comfortable enough to take off his helmet, first in the nook that was your cramped bed, you witnessed a different side of him. He was vulnerable and careful. Sweet to make love to you bare, rough when he wore his armor.

Wandering from planet to planet, you arrived to Corvus. You knew the moment you landed, there was another force-sensitive there. It wasn't a surprise when the magistrate, at the sight of the mandalorian, offered the bounty to him. Kill the jedi.

Din had no intention of actually killing a jedi, he didn't even know if he was capable, but he knew he had heard many of your stories, often told with melancholic eyes and simple descriptions for him, and he thought he owed you to meet them, and adult of your own kind.

The mandalorian walked ahead through the devastated and ruined forest, while you carried the child in your arms not far behind. From time to time, you corrected his direction, feeling her energy more clearly with each step. It wasn't too long until you found her.

She stood there, lightsabers turned on, in a position not threatening but cautious. You grabbed Din by his arm and pulled him behind you with a soft tug, taking the child with him.

"I think I've seen you before. In the temple of Coruscant?", you pulled away behind your shoulder the small cape you were wearing. You tapped on the lightsaber on your hip. "Though truthfully, one can never be too careful these days", you held it and ignited it. The dark forest was now filled by the white glow of her lightsabers and yellow of yours. ”I was a padawan meant to be a jedi consular... almost feels like that was only a dream at this point, I must admit. I’m y/n”

She relaxed and smiled, turning off both weapons. You imitated her.

“My name is Ahsoka Tano, I believe we had a good friend in common”, her smile turned mournful. You nodded. Neither wished to say the name. She looked at the child, intrigued. “And this little one...”

“Grogu”, Din answered. "He has powers like you"

Ahsoka walked to him and held his diminute hand. They were introducing each other. She seemed happy to see him until her jaw clenched and she turned to you.

"You cannot train him. He's too attached to him and now, to you too. It's a great risk", she walked towards you. "You should let it fade away"

You understood what she was saying and why she was saying it. The jedi didn't allow attachments, that's why they took their apprentices from their families as young as possible. That's why they almost didn't take Anakin. But you didn’t agree with that, not since a long time ago. The order was stagnant and flawed, fixated in old traditions. Maybe if the rules weren't so hermetic, he would have asked for help instead of consuming himself in despair.

"I won't. I will continue his training", you said straightening up. "That's a risk will all have to face. And he won't be alone"

She sighed. You could see the memories storming through her mind, she was concerned but resigned.

"I’ll be on my way now", she said taking a few steps backwards and observing the three of you. "I have given you my advice, there isn't much more I can do. Grogu is certainly loved and he doesn't have to linger in darkness anymore. I'm happy for him. And for you to have found your way together because of him" She parted with a little bow before making her way through the forest. "May the Force be with you"

As Din stood watching her disappear between the trees with the child cradled in his arms, you went to his side. You were concerned Ahsoka’s words may have planted the seed of doubt in him, that he would grow afraid of something he couldn’t understand. He had put a great deal of faith in you and trusted your intentions.

“Is she talking about the same thing that happened to your friend?”

“Yes...”

“I trust you with the child, you know that”, he assured you, his voice soft and understanding. “We’ll cross that bridge if we ever get to it”

He surrounded you with his free arm and pushed you against his chest. He was playing the confident man but Din, even he wouldn’t admit it yet, knew the concern would always be in the back of his head. He didn’t understand the ways of the Force, the code of the jedi, the powers you both held, but he did understand that it was something significant if you were concerned about it. He knew it by the way you quickly ended the topic when it came up, giving him vague details and passing it as a highly unlikely, very hypothetical occurrence.

You walked in silence through the forest back to the Razor Crest, and left a very sleepy Grogu in his little hammock. Din and you had some dinner in the cockpit while the ship got out of orbit. Then, he set the autopilot on and you went both to bed.

You quickly got your shoes and the extra clothes you wore, and sat while watching him get rid of his armor. How did you get so lucky to be the only one able to enjoy the sight? Not many things could make you forget about your anxieties and hardships as he did. When he finished, he stood in front of you and you looked up to him.

“You’re staring”, he uttered.

You pulled from the waistband of his trousers so he would get closer to you and with your other hand, you pulled from his shirt down, making him lean, before pressing your lips against his in a hungry kiss.

“You’re still wearing too many clothes”, you pointed out before kissing him again. He chuckled between your lips.

“You always think I’m wearing too many”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin headcanons #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian headcanons #the mandalorian imagine #star wars imagine #star wars x reader #memories:fic #din djarin

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c-is-for-circinate · 3 years

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Absolutely fucking wild to me to contemplate the number of fandoms I have cycled through in the past year+ of quarantine, often while leaving no indication of them on this blog whatsoever. Like, we're talking all in, full throttle, browsing twenty pages deep on an AO3 bookmarks-sorted fic search in a month fandom hyperfixation.

March of 2020 I was here for Critical Role, with a sideline in having Feelings About Persona Games, which is sort of a constant low-grade thing I do all the time, and that was fine. Then quarantine hit, and since then it has been an absolutely inexplicable roulette wheel with zero regard for any criteria that even I could fathom. I spent two months drowning in Star Wars in spite of having never in my life cared about the Clone Wars cartoons or associated extended universe, ever. I now know and care deeply about Final Fantasy 7, a game I have still never played. I dived back into Fullmetal Alchemist and Dragon Age, which I have not spent more than a day at a time thinking about in at least two years. I finally gave in and watched all of Yuri on Ice, which I avoided at all costs when it was actually airing, and then obsessed for a month. I apparently decided it was worth my time last summer to dive into Danny Phantom, a show I never once watched even when I was within a decade of its target age range. And that's not even the full list. What the fuck.

I don't regret, exactly, that this is where all of my apparently very intense "oh fuck I don't have anything to do and it's quarantine" energy went, but man I wish it were even remotely predictable. Or a phase ever lasted long enough for me to do something with the equally long and intense AUs that constantly bubble up every time I think too long about any one thing, and then drift away on the frittering wind.

My inbox is full of notifications of updates to subscribed stories in fandoms I haven't cared about in six months. Some of them are two hundred chapters long. And I originally read up to the WIP point in less than a weekend, except I cannot even begin to imagine what's going on in them any more. And I still haven't made anyone on this blog sit through the Persona 5 polythieves-in-Paris story, or the brand new Dragon Age time-travel-fix-it fic(s), or my many thoughts and feelings that I know I had but no longer remember about Russian figure skaters, or even written any of the lengthy lore posts about my own D&D game that I'm running that I promised everyone over a year ago.

But! I have mostly finished Hades! And I will try really hard to write more about it soon! If I don't accidentally get sucker-punched by (evidence suggests) literally any other fictional property in the world so long as I probably haven't ever seen it before.

(Please god let Exandria Unlimited be absorbing and have a super-active fandom. Please. I want to get off this ride and settle back down to earth where I get to keep a reasonable amount of only slightly heightened fixation on just one or two things for more than six weeks. I have a real job again, surely that will help distract me. Surely. Right?)

#extra special bonus props go to Lee #who got caught up in my whirlwind last fall while I was perseverating entirely on Persona #and has put up with every single one of my fandom changes since #in spite of still being back on Persona themself #and never has a damn thing to say against me #even when I show up yet again out of the blue with an unexpected #so I accidentally clicked on a new fic on someone's recs page last night and I have Thoughts About Cullen #god bless fellow sufferers of ADHD

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got-svt · 3 years

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the road not taken

summary: you live in la, he lives in seoul. you don’t think it’s ever going to work out, but he believes otherwise. especially when every year on the holidays, both of you rediscover that your hearts are still in chicago. aka the conversations that had you rethinking your relationship. pairing: johnny suh x reader genre: angst, friends with benefits (but only on the holidays lmao — implied sex, so no actual smut), some fluff at the end kinda word count: 2637

part of my tales from the lakes series inspired by taylor swift’s ‘tis the damn season

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Truth be told, despite the fact that you were neighbors and your parents were quite close with his, you didn’t know much about Johnny in the years you spent growing up in the suburbs of Chicago. Sure, you caught glimpses of him from your bedroom practicing whatever song or dance routine he felt like he needed to improve on. More often than not, you’d find yourself laughing as he accidentally bumped into a shelf or slip and fall over on the floor. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t taken a peek out his window to watch you running lines, a script in you hand as you paced around the room, a smile creeping on his face as he watches you shake your head every time you forget a line. In a way, you both formed some sort of a relationship as you silently cheered the other on in whatever endeavor you put your minds to.

He wanted you to succeed just as much as you wanted him to succeed.

But when he moved to Korea to pursue a career as an idol, and you to LA for acting, there were little to no opportunities to actually begin a proper conversation.

It wasn’t until in December of 2017, when both of your parents decided to have a joint Christmas dinner in celebration of both their children coming home for the holidays for the first time in years. They thought it was time for you two to meet, having settled in your respective career paths. Maybe they also wanted to see how the two of you would get along, but they would never admit it even if you ask.

“I don’t think we’ve ever formally met.” He told you once he entered your parents’ house and offering a hand for you to shake, “I’m Johnny.”

“Yn.” You replied, taking his hand in yours, “And, trust me, I know exactly who you are.”

He raised an eyebrow at your statement as he let go of your hand, you shivered at the immediate loss of contact, your hand immediately growing colder at the absence of his.

“NCT?” You asked tentatively, testing the waters of what could possibly be an exciting new friendship.

“Ah yeah,” he sheepishly smiled, reaching a hand to scratch the back of his neck, “I guess there’s no use in pretending I don’t know who you are either.”

It was now your turn to raise an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “Hmmm?”

“I’ve seen pretty much every show you’ve ever been on.” Johnny clarified, but his tone suggested a bit of embarrassment on his part, “The other members don’t believe me when I tell them I practically grew up next to you.”

“I guess I could say the same.” You replied with a shrug, but you offered him a reassuring smile “Nobody really believes me when I tell them a Kpop star used to be my neighbor.”

“Perhaps we need better friends then.” He joked, but your gaze was fixated on the way the curve of his lips moved with each word that left his mouth. Johnny had always been attractive, whether it be through your bedroom window or your computer screen. But now here he stood, in front of you, bare faced in black jeans and a gray sweatshirt and somehow he had never looked more alluring.

Johnny noticed you watching him, but he never called you out on it. Maybe because he was too busy thinking about how soft your hand was when he shook it, imagining how it must feel running over his skin. Or how your hair seemed fall perfectly, framing your face in a way that was enticing him for reasons he couldn’t exactly figure out.

“Care for a drink?” You asked, breaking the brief period of tense silence that had fallen between the two of you, leading him to the makeshift bar your parents had near the kitchen.

He smirked, placing his hands inside the pockets of his jeans, “I thought you’d never ask.”

And maybe it was because of both of your parents deciding to turn in early and the three bottles of wine that was shared between the two of you that had you pinned against the wall of your childhood bedroom, quietly giggling into his lips as he went in for another kiss. He drunkenly mumbled words that you couldn’t quite understand, but he was telling you to keep quiet. You knew you should have stopped him the second planted his lips onto yours, and he knew he should’ve pulled away when you started taking off his shirt. Maybe then you wouldn’t have woken uncomfortably cuddled up on your twin-sized bed and sneaking him out of the house before your parents could wake up.

But both of you enjoyed the way your bodies seemed to be made just for the other too much to stop, and thus, a tradition of sorts was formed.

2018.

One particular night the following year had you driving around the city, Johnny had one hand on the steering wheel while the other held yours, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on the back of your hand. But it did everything but comfort you or himself. Since the previous year, you and Johnny grew much closer than either have you had anticipated. You thought it would all end after that first night or maybe when you flew back to LA, and him back to Seoul. But it had been seemingly impossible to move away from whatever relationship that began to form, as both of you sacrificed nights of well warranted sleep to call or text the other, soon enough both of you were in too deep to easily get out.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, taking note of how the streetlights perfectly illuminated his face. He had been unusually quiet and you were growing tired of the Christmas songs that had been blasting on every radio station for the past few hours.

“It’s nothing.” He sighed as he turned to an unfamiliar street, you knew better than to believe that it was truly nothing. But you also knew him well enough to not to push it.

“Where are we going then?”

Johnny replied with a shrug, continuing down the foreign path, he knew neither of you had been to this particular part of town but at that point he’d do anything to even remotely extend the time you spent together.

“And if we get lost?” You asked, your voice almost challenging him to turn back, but he didn’t give in.

“Then we get lost.” He replied without missing a single beat, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards to form a smile, “You know, the road not taken tend to be the most exciting.”

“Oh wow,” You let out a laugh, and Johnny feels his heart skip the slightest of beats, “and where did that immensely profound quote come from?”

“My brilliant mind.” He grinned, briefly turning to face you.

Johnny wished he had a camera to capture the absolute spectacle that was you. How you stared out the window, at the unfamiliar road, eyes alive with a certain curiosity. Your finger drawing little stars on the car window, pouting when it doesn’t quite look the way you wanted it to. It was at that moment he knew, you were all he wanted.

“What are we?” He asked, causing you to jump a little in your seat, Johnny had never brought up the nature of your relationship before.

“Friends?” You said, at an attempt to offer him an answer, but even you sounded unsure at your response which made Johnny grow hopeful.

“Yn, friends don’t kiss.” Johnny responded, grateful that he had to keep his eyes on the road. He didn’t need you seeing right through his pretend confidence, “They sure as hell don’t sleep together”

“Sure, they do.” You joked in an attempt to lighten the mood, maybe even change the topic to something—anything— else, “I do it all the time.”

“Well, acting is different.” He let out a scoff, annoyed at the thought of you not taking the conversation seriously, “You know what I meant.”

“I like where we are now. It’s easy.” You explained, wanting to make him understand where you were coming from, “Relationships are messy, given the industries we are in. There’s no pressure with this. With you and me.”

“But what if I wanted something more—”

“It’s never going to work.” You cut him off before he could even make his case, before he could ask you to be his.

“Now, why do you say that?” There was a slight tremble in his voice, and you had never heard him sound so nervous, scared even. The feeling of guilt slowly crept up your system, but you shook it away before it even had the chance to fully settle in.

“Time, distance, to begin with. Not to mention both of our very busy careers.”

“Then I guess this is good enough for me.”

For now, he added in his head, determined to make you see otherwise.

You smiled at him, glad to have the conversation over with and thinking that this would be the last time you’ll ever speak about it.

2019.

Johnny wanted to prove you wrong, show you that both of you could in fact make it work. You just needed to try. Which came with more calls and texts than normal as you got to know each other more than you already did, flowers sent to you on your birthday, several little gifts every now and then, and even slowly introducing you to the other members of NCT. His efforts did not go unnoticed, but it definitely left you more confused.

When both of you went home for the holidays that particular year, you knew something had changed. Johnny was more reserved than usual, and you would usually have to be the one to initiate sleeping together.

“Don’t you ever get tired of doing this?” He asked, turning to face you, as you lied side-by-side on his childhood bed.

“Doing what?” You asked, feigning confusion, preparing yourself for the inevitable conversation you had been dreading for the past few months.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” His voice was calm, but it chilled you to the core.

“What do you want me to say, Johnny?” You snapped, the tone in your voice letting him know how exasperated you were as you shut your eyes, “That I like you? That I want to be with you?”

“Don’t you?”

You let out a sigh, still keeping your eyes shut. You didn’t want to look at him, he’d know if you were lying. You didn’t know if you had it in you to lie. Instead, you focused on the sound of his breathing, steady and almost reassuring. You imagined the rise and fall of his bare chest, covered by the thick white blanket.

Johnny knew to drop the subject when you didn’t even make an attempt to answer his question, he probably didn’t want to know the answer anyways. But Johnny knew he loved you, and part of him knew you loved him back. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have let this little charade go on for as long as it did. You just needed time. And he was more than willing to give it to you.

“A year.”

Your eyes opened at his words, your head turned to face him, “What?”

“I’m giving you a year.”

You didn’t have to ask again. You knew exactly what he meant, what he wanted. He wanted an answer.

“Is this an ultimatum?”

He takes your hands in his, “It’s me letting you know that I’m serious about wanting to be with you.”

“Johnny—”

He kisses the side of your head before you could even finish your sentence, an action so tender that it caused you to forget every single coherent thought of protest.

“Hey, you don’t have to answer me now. Just think about it. Please?”

“I will.”

And with those two words, you stood and gathered your clothes off the floor and put them back on. He gave you a small nod as you turned to leave his room, going back into the freezing cold and leaving the warmest bed you had ever known.

2020.

Neither of you could come home to Chicago that year.

And so you both had to settle for a reunion through a screen. You wished that circumstances were different, but at the same time you were grateful that you didn’t have to give him an answer in person. Mainly because you didn’t have one.

When his face appeared on your computer screen, you couldn’t help the ache that crept up in your chest at the sight of him.

“Hey, yn.” He greeted with a smile.

You missed him.

After the exchange of pleasantries and a bit of small talk on both ends, Johnny wasted no time in getting to the purpose of your call, “I believe you owe me something.”

“Johnny—“

“Before you say anything, I want you to know that for me, it’s always been you. After all this time, even with all the distance between us.”

Johnny moved his face closer to the camera, as if that would somehow help his point come across more genuinely. You had to stop your hand from reaching out to try and wipe the single tear that fell on his cheek.

“This is the last time I’m going to ask.” He said, trying to keep his voice from faltering too much, “After this, I won’t try to push it anymore. But I want you to tell me the truth. Don’t you wish—“

“It’s not going to work.”

“We haven’t even tried, Yn.” It almost sounded like he was pleading, begging you to give him and the two of you a chance. He wasn’t there with you in person, but he didn’t have to be for you to feel the sincerity in his words.

“I’m scared.” You whispered, finally choosing to truly let him in for the very first time since you met, “What if it doesn’t work out? I want you in my life. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not going to.”

Johnny said it with such conviction, such confidence, that you felt like you had no choice but to believe him. Your eyes studied his face, looking for any sign of wariness or doubt. Only to find none. You could only find hopefulness, and maybe even love. With one final review of his features, you had made your decision.

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?” He asked, just to make sure, but he made no attempt in holding back the grin that slowly spread across his face. The sight of which made your heart flutter.

“We’ll try. I want to be with you.”

You let out a breath that you didn’t you had been holding as the final word left your lips. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, the floodgates in your eyes releasing the tears it had been holding onto for months now. Nervousness still coursed through your veins, but it was mixed with a different kind of emotion: excitement.

“You’re smiling, but you’re also crying. I’m not sure if I should be concerned.” Johnny joked, the crinkles in eyes becoming much more apparent as he stared at your face through the screen.

“I’m still scared,” You confessed, “but I’m excited.”

Johnny couldn’t help but chuckle at your confession, waiting for you to wipe your tears away before he continued speaking,

“Well, Yn, didn’t I tell you the road not taken would be the most exciting? Trust me, it’s looking really good now.”

#nct 127 #nct imagines #nct johnny #johnny x reader #johnny suh imagines #johnny suh angst #johnny suh fluff #johnny suh fanfic #johnny suh x reader #johnny suh scenarios #nct 127 imagines

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jonahlovescoffee · 3 years

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“good morning, sunshine” | J.M.

part one of the better together series

a/n: jonah’s latest instagram story with wes just hits different (*¯︶¯*) i mean have you heard his morning voice?! like damn i want it to be the first thing i hear when i wake up everyday :’( thanks to @chilling-seavey for sending the story into my dm early in the morning, it has been stuck in my head all day and i can’t focus on doing anything else >:(

summary: your daughter was far too enthusiastic in the morning.

word count: 1390

warnings: jonah being cute with kid, fluff overload, one occurrence of the f word, suggestive themes in the end.

“Daddy, mommy, wake up!” A cheerful 3-year-old child with shoulder-length brown hair and mesmerizing hazel eyes swung the door to your room open and rushed in, her teddy bear held tightly to her chest with an arm, her small feet thudding against the floor in an inconsistent rhythm as she ran towards the bed you shared with Jonah.

You immediately placed your phone aside on the nightstand upon the arrival of your enthusiastic daughter. You had already woken up moments ago but were reluctant to leave Jonah’s arms that were wrapped tightly around your body. No matter how many times you had woken up in this position with him, you’d never get tired of the way he protectively held you in his arms even as he slept, the sound of his soft snores and the comforting warmth that his body radiated.

“Morning, sweetie,” your lips broke into a smile when she stood on her tippy toes near the edge of the bed to kiss your cheek. She then proceeded to join both of you on the bed, squeezing her way between you two and making herself comfortable by purposely stretching her limbs out here and there so that you’d offer her more space. Her rough movements made Jonah stir from his peaceful slumber, rubbing his eyes as he grumbled under his breath about how much he needed more sleep.

As soon as he saw his daughter though, his initial moody expression brightened up instantly, his frown replaced by a broad grin and his eyes filled with nothing but all the love in the world. “Good morning, sunshine,” he said softly in his raspy morning voice, giving her a kiss on her head before asking, “what’s gotten you so excited this morning?”

“You have no idea what I dreamed about last night!” She exclaimed and clapped her hands excitedly.

“Oh? Lemme guess, did you dream about me?” You joked, booping her nose with your pointer finger, earning a small giggle from her.

“Yes, mommy, you were a princess in my dream! Can you believe that?” Her answer came as a shock to you since you weren’t expecting her dream to include anyone else besides Disney princesses and magical creatures. She continued to narrate the events of her dreams, her eyes sparkling with joy as she told you about herself being a fairy that could make pretty goens for anyone with just a swing of her wand. “You were so pretty in the dress that I made for you that a prince fell in love with you and you both lived happily ever after!” She stared dreamily into the air as she recalled the ending of her dream.

“Was I the knight in shining armor in your dream, little one?” Jonah asked but she shook her head which made his face fall in mock disappointment and his lips formed a little pout. She patted his arms as if to comfort him so when she opened her mouth to speak again, you both had expected her to say something comforting to cheer him up.

But she, apparently, had other plans in mind.

“The prince was too handsome to be you, daddy,” she said innocently, his eyes widening in shock as he fully processed the words that left his beloved daughter’s mouth. You put a hand over your mouth in attempt to smother your laughter but failing terribly once your daughter turned to you and asked you cluelessly if she had said anything wrong because Jonah had turned to the opposite side so that his back was facing her, not only offended by the fact that his own daughter technically called him ugly, but also the fact that his girlfriend married a stupid prince in her dream.

“Daddy, are you mad at me?” She asked, tugging on his shirt but receiving no answers from him in return.

“Daddy just needs some hugs and kisses,” you whispered into her ear once your laughter died down. “So why don’t we go give him some?” You asked, in which she responded with a nod before climbing to his side of the bed, throwing her arms over him and hugging him tight like a koala. Jonah tried his best to not give in to her clinginess or the adorable puppy dog-eyes that she was giving him, but he failed miserably the moment you joined in the hug from behind and both of you started to pepper his face with kisses simultaneously.

He finally caved in, bursting into a fit of laughter as the ticklish sensation on his face soon became too much for him to handle. “Stop,” he said breathlessly through his laughter, shifting his body so he was now laying flat on his back, pulling both of you close by his arms, one of you laying on each side. The happiness that he felt right then and there was so immense that it was impossible for him to put into words. Fooling around and having fun with two of his favorite girls in the entire universe were few of the many moments in his life he would cherish forever.

“So you’re not mad at me anymore?” Your daughter asked in fear of being unforgiven by her father whom she loved so dearly.

“Don’t be silly—you know it’s impossible for me to stay mad at you, my little ball of sunshine,” he patted her head gently and she heaved a sigh of relief at his words. “Since today is a weekend, why don’t we go get some ice cream and a fairy costume too in honor your amazing dream?” She perked up right away at his suggestion. “What do you think?”

“It depends if the fairy costume comes with a fairy wand. If it does, then yes it’s a great plan!”

“Even if it doesn’t, I’m going to buy you one anyways,” Jonah said matter-of-factly. You smiled to yourself as you watched the cute interaction between your boyfriend and your child.

“But you must buy mommy a pretty dress too!” Your little girl requested and of course, what she says always goes because Jonah never had the heart to say no to her. Plus, he would kill to see you in a new dress, although it’d probably end up on the bedroom floor right after you put it on.

“Yes, yes, sweetheart,” he kissed her once again before letting her hop down the bed. “So go brush your teeth now and we’ll have breakfast at home before we leave.”

“Thanks daddy, you’re the best!” With that, she ran out of the room before reappearing at the door again shortly. “Oh, and daddy?”

“Hmm?” Jonah looked at her with a raised brow.

“You are the most handsome person in the world, even more handsome than the prince in my dreams.”

She scurried away before Jonah could react. Let’s just say the smile didn’t leave his face for the rest of the day, even when his little ball of sunshine threw a huge temper tantrum and knocked over her entire platter of food on purpose during their dinner in a fancy restaurant.

Bonus:

“You spoil her too much, love,” you said to him after you put your little devil to sleep. You joined him on the living room couch to watch a movie before bed, snuggling into him.

He merely smiled. “I think I spoil you quite a lot too, dear,” he commented, lacing his fingers through yours, his gaze fixated onto the tv.

“Really? Because it doesn’t seem like it.” You watched him place the tv remote on the coffee table before turning his attention towards you.

“Hmmm....why don’t,” he leant in closer so his lips was near to your ear. His breath alone sent shivers up your spine and when he continued speaking, you swore you forgot how to breathe. “Why don’t you put on the pretty little dress that I bought you today if you wish see how much I can spoil you.”

Finally, here’s the exact sentence you were waiting for.

“Who says that I’m not wearing it now?” You took off the hoodie and kicked off the shorts that you were wearing, to reveal the golden silk nightgown underneath that was so short that it barely covered your butt yet it accentuated all your curves perfectly.

“Fucking hell, baby,” was the last thing he said before pinning you down onto the couch.

#kids are still stupid creatures tho #but I’ll have them just for jonah #what-#daniel seavey #corbyn besson #jack avery #jonah marais #why dont we #why don’t we #zach herron #wdw imagines #jonah marais imagines #wdw

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