Tumgik
#it’s their turn to be amused they deserve it
shirefantasies · 2 days
Note
I loved both of your new updates, with the Hobbit characters and Fellowship reacting to you calling them pretty. How do you imagine the elves replying when you call them pretty? Such as Lindir, Arwen, Haldir, Elrond and Figwit?
Lindir and Figwit are one and the same, that’s why there's only one :) here’s how I think it would go:
The Elves’ Reaction to You Calling Them Pretty
Gets sappy: Arwen, Lindir, Legolas
Shock: Elrond, Haldir, Feren
No you: Galadriel, Thranduil
Slowly, widely grinning, Arwen’s gaze falls from yours slightly, only to slide back. “You flatter me,” she says, voice lowering to a near-whisper as she steps closer, “especially for one who knows my heart is in your hands.” Flustered is the only word you could use to describe the look that crosses Lindir’s face, especially as you reach over to tuck a strand of his long dark hair behind his ear. A smile creeps across it, oh yes, but what can he do besides respond that no word that he knows can begin his description, no song he could write, would do you justice half as proper as he should like. Legolas bursts into a big, bashful smile before you even finish your sentence, reaching to take your hand and hold it against his chest. At first he says nothing, his dark eyes simply swimming in yours before he speaks. "I know not what I did to deserve such a love as you have given me, but I hope I do it again and again."
Taken aback, Elrond nearly leans away from your touch before seemingly thinking better of it, pale skin of his cheek resuming contact with your palm and bringing a rush of warmth with it. "You see beauty in the strangest of places," he chuckles, "in all things and every face you look upon. If only all of Middle-Earth could see as you do." And with that, his lips are on yours. Haldir tilts his head in- confusion? before his eyes are searching the gaze upon them, finding nothing but sincerity swimming in the beautiful color of your eyes. A smile breaks across his face, small but deeply affectionate, as he shakes his golden head. "I know not what to say beyond thanking the Valar for the gift of your love." You almost burst into a laugh at the way Feren's big brown eyes widen, turning like saucers as if you'd shifted to some unheard tongue mid-sentence. "Yes, you," you reiterate, reaching up to caress his face, the gorgeous arch of his cheekbone, "do I not make it apparent enough all the beauty I see in you?" Flushing, Feren simply shakes his head and leans into your touch before thinking better of it, turning instead to take your hand and press a kiss to the back of it. "Not at all. I was simply thinking of all the ways I should be returning the favor."
Amusement plays upon Galadriel's lips, loving glow overtaking her at your compliment, tinging her cheeks and glittering in her fair blue eyes. “Would that you could see through my eyes, meleth nîn,” she chuckles, reaching up to trace a pale hand along your hair, down the rise of your cheekbone, and to gently brush your lips with her thumb. Each motion a silent affirmation that has your heart singing as you grant her the kiss she asks for. “Well, aren’t you charming?” Thranduil teases, but all you can see in his eyes is pure, brimming love. “These are not your words, love, but mine.” His smile is wide, welcoming as the arms that pull you against the king’s back, elegant lips pecking your neck, then your cheek. “Your sincerity is a gift to this world, though. You say what you think whether it is what I wish or not. I suppose we can say I got lucky this time, did I not? As I do every day I have you by my side.”
Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🥰
75 notes · View notes
sourholland · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media
based off of taylor swift’s song style
a/n → we are so back. here’s the official playlist for style 🩵
summary → he’s the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of lake erie—but does he have the heart to match it? you’re the bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. it doesn’t take much to catch the eye of joe burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.
warnings → strong language, mentions of sex
word count → 3.3k
reblog and leave some comments if you enjoy!!
SERIES MASTERLIST
Chapter 5
After you and Joe had come close to being caught in his locker room, both of you decided it was best to make a swift exit plan that let you both make it to the parking lot unscathed and unsuspecting. You departed first, quickly turning the corner and leaving the hallway with your bag slung over your shoulder. Joe had in fact kept your panties, taunting you for a minute and motioning for you to attempt to grab them from him. Spooked by the disturbance, you only told him that he now owes you two pairs.
Joe left a few minutes after you, taking a completely different hallway out of the facility and practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. He asked to see you before you’d split, so the fact that he knew he was going to follow you back to your apartment had seemingly put a bit of pep in his step. You watched him cross the large parking lot, waving at you and smiling in a way that left you shaking your head and laughing. He must have changed clothes before he walked out, adorning a pair of shorts and a black jacket overtop his white hoodie.
The drive was quiet, save for the few times Joe would purposefully begin to ride the ass of your car or honk like you had done something wrong. Funny, you bit back some amusement as you let the horn blare right back at him. He was unlike any guy you had been with in that aspect, his humor was genuine and never had anything to do with making you feel bad about yourself or to poke fun. His jokes never cut deep, which was rare in your few relationships thus far.
Joe parked beside you in your unit’s garage. His Porsche most definitely stood out amongst the line of cars, sleek and spotless as if he had just taken it through the car wash. Everything about him was so clean and prim and proper, it intimidated you now more than ever. A sudden feeling of insecurity washed over you, wondering if he was silently judging you and your life. You couldn’t help gazing down at the steering wheel, thinking endlessly about how much Joe really possessed in athleticism, riches, and looks compared to your ex-boyfriends.
Suddenly his knuckle wrapped against your window, “You got mac ‘n’ cheese up there? Tell me that doesn’t sound so good right now.”
You couldn’t help laughing at him, his so-casual words through the window that you rolled down. He leaned into your car, arms folded so his chin rested on them as he perched and tilted his head to the side. He looked inside of your car now, having never seen it. His legs were so long, you noted once again as you breathed another chuckle at his stature. He merely shook his head, waiting for a response about the food.
“I think I have the little Kraft cups. I might have some of the normal boxes, it might be Velvetta, though,” you watched as he gave you an eyeroll.
“You think one of those cups is gonna sustain me? I’m insulted,” he placed a hand on his heart and finally pulled his head out of the car. He opened the car door for you, motioning for you to step out with an outstretched hand for your bag. “I was practically inhaling those things at eight. You can’t seriously be full off one.”
“Excuse me, Joe. Not all of us are..” you spoke with booming amusement and sarcasm, prepared to give a dramatic reenactment as you approached the elevator. “The one, the only Joe Burrow! Heartthrob NFL quarterback, generous philanthropist, sexiest–”
“Ah okay, I see. Someone’s got jokes,” he interrupted, smiling ear to ear. “Please, don’t stop on my accord. What about me is so sexy?”
As you crossed the threshold and began upward in the elevator, you gave him a teasing smirk and noticed just how pink his cheeks had gotten at your comments. He was still holding your bag, bouncing up and down on his heels and occasionally glancing sidelong at you while you went up. The ride was a comfortable silence, simply peering at each other when the other was not looking in a sort of high school fashion.
Joe discarded his coat as he entered your freshly unlocked apartment, murmuring something about how he was sweating. You watched him curiously, tidying up and discarding some of the random things you and the girls had strewn around the apartment. He hadn’t ever been inside, he’d only picked you up when you went out for drinks. He definitely had no intention of masking his curiosity, he walked along the walls of your living room and noted each photo and piece of decor. He picked up a frame on the TV stand, it was a moment captured on film from your study abroad trip in Australia. His eyes scanned the photograph where you and Sydney were perched on pink beach towels, smiling drunkenly and wearing floppy hats for shade.
“What’s your life like?” He asked you, not a hint of hesitation in his question. “I know you’re a cheerleader, I know you’re going to school to become a teacher. What about all the other stuff, though?”
You paused and hummed, “I feel like my life might bore in comparison to yours.”  
“I highly doubt that, but tell me anyway.”
“I grew up in a pretty rural area in Massachusetts. I have an older brother, his name is Jack. My parents have been divorced for a few years, but they stuck it out until I moved out. For better or for worse,” you told him without maintaining much eye contact. “I’m really not trying to dump all of my childhood trauma on you, I promise.”
“Y/N, what are you talking about? I asked,” Joe said, reassuring you and noting how you fiddled with the strings of the knit throw blanket. “I want to know, I really do.”
His expression was genuine, his eyes serious and fixated solely on you. He had discarded his car keys and phone on a nearby countertop, giving you his full attention as you inhaled deeper and thought seriously about what you wished to tell him. He felt unreal, like something you had dreamed up and manifested into your living room. A part of you thought you should pinch yourself and look again, sure that he would have disappeared into thin air. No, you forced yourself out of the thought and made yourself see that he was just as real and tangible as you are. 
“We grew up pretty poor, for a while we were a one income household living off food stamps and just getting by. It was rough, those years especially, but we managed and eventually my mom and dad were able to save. They got into real estate later on and then opened a store, I’m grateful for all of it. I worked hard in school to help with scholarships and stuff so they wouldn’t be totally responsible for putting me through college,” the words flowed without much thought and he nodded, listening intently. “They weren’t happy. I knew it long before anyone mentioned divorce, but I was still pretty wrecked. I’m grateful, though. They gave me a great work ethic, you know just watching them build a better life for our family. I wouldn’t even live here without their help.”
“I can tell you’re a hard worker,” he was assessing you in your entirety. “Are you close with them? Your family, I mean.”
You stilled for a moment, thinking intently about the question. Joe was sitting across from you, elbows braced on his knees as he leaned into the conversation. His gaze was soft, gentle even. He wasn’t looking at you with pity, however. His expression was more of a mixture of understanding and concentration, like he was afraid to say the wrong thing.
“Not so much, no,” you answered. “But the love is still there. I just have a hard time expressing it to my family, I guess. If that makes any sense at all. With my friends, it always just comes so much easier. I’ve just always felt outside myself around my family, like they know nothing about me.”
“How does that make you feel?” 
“It’s just kind of how it's always been, I guess.”
Joe listened to you for ten more minutes, not protesting when you rose from the loveseat and seemed to want to change the subject to something more positive. Following you into the kitchen, he began to look through the cupboards for something to make. It didn’t take him long before finding the Kraft cups, turning around and showing you with an eye roll. He began rattling off the nutrition label, making you raise your phone to him with a hand over your mouth as you captured a short clip of his fully serious assessment.
He continued to sift through the materials of your kitchen, finding an actual box of mac ‘n’ cheese and beginning to look for your pots and pans. You silently extended a hand, letting him take the pot from you and start cooking. You walked over to the fridge, glancing around your options for drinks.
“So I have Celsius, milk, Titos, Capri suns, and water,” you told him, cringing internally at the selection. 
“What flavor Capri Sun?” He asked, stirring the food in front of him.
“Looks like… strawberry kiwi.”
“Yeah, I’ll take one of those,” he looked over his shoulder at you. 
You both ate in front of the living room television, watching The Hunger Games underneath the throw blanket you had extended to him as soon as you sat down. He took it graciously, eating much faster and going back for a second helping before you’d finished even half of your bowl. You snickered softly, wondering the daily caloric intake of an NFL player and how much Joe had to eat to maintain his figure. 
Once you both finished eating, he followed you into your bathroom with his bag. He took his toothpaste and toothbrush out, the set you assumed was only for practice and games. You both stood in front of the mirror, brushing silently until Joe would make a face in the mirror or you would go to rinse your brush and he would slap your ass. He took the lid of the mouthwash you had filled up, knocking it back just as you had. He stifled a laugh while you swished, pulling his phone out and taking a picture of you with your hands on your hips, eyes narrowed at him and mouth full of mouthwash.
Joe’s cold hand slid onto your upper thigh as you settled back into the couch. He pinched softly and you whacked his arm slightly harder, causing both of you to laugh as he threw his hands up in playful defense. You let him lean in as he mouthed the word ‘truce’, only to attack your middle and put you with your back on the couch. He hovered above you, pressing a chaste kiss to your neck and lips.
“Should I go?” Joe asked, looking down at his phone and realizing how late it is. 
“Do you want to go?” You asked him in one breath. 
The only light illuminating his face was from the movie playing in the background. Joe’s pupils were blown, his hair falling forward as he was still above you. His body pressed a fraction of his weight on you, both of your pulses pounding. He let himself think about the question, humming lowly and taking in the visual before him once again.
“I never want to go,” he said, half-joking with a smirk. “You tell me. I have to be at the facility to watch film at eight, I’ll be gone before you wake up. It’ll be like I was never here. ”
Is that what he wants? The question wracked your brain as you sat contemplating how casual this was for him. His flattery sometimes felt so real, like more than foreplay or meaningless flirting. There was always the undertone of what was wrong with you two being tangled up in the same blanket, though. Joe couldn’t bring you on a real date, you would never be able to show anyone the video from the kitchen–why shouldn’t this be casual to him? He likes you, perhaps. But how can you expect him to want to tiptoe around each other’s jobs?
“Okay, yeah,” the words came out more breathy than you intended. “Sounds good to me.”
Joe studied your dimly lit face, “Everything alright?” 
You told yourself not to be that same girl you were at the bar, the one you could only assume he viewed as a psychotic bitch. A part of you was willing yourself to shove down some of those strong feelings for him, giving him a soft smile and nodding. He relaxed a bit, letting you turn in his arms and watch the movie with your back to his chest.
It was only about ten minutes before you heard the sounds of his soft snores, one arm tucked underneath his head and the other firm around your chest. His breathing was deep and steady, occasionally pulling you into him further. After a few minutes, you grabbed your phone off of the coffee table and turned your camera front-facing, making sure the flash was off and snapping a picture to send to your group chat with the girls.
Sydney: Oh. My. GOD.
Sydney: I’m actually throwing up rn what the fuck 
Sydney: LOOK HOW BIG HIS HAND IS
Lena: I’m freaking the fuck out omg
Lena: I’m so jealous
Lena: He’s so 
Sydney: He’s fine as fuck
Y/N: IKR
Y/N: I think I’m obsessed 
Sydney: Girl wbk that
Sydney: Be fucking for real
Y/N: I simply do not think I will be making it to class on Monday
Lena: That’s three days away
Y/N: Ugh Ik
Y/N: Last first day of classes! 
Y/N: I’ll call you guys tomorrow and debrief
Both of them hearted the message, sending their goodnight texts and equally dirty messages about you and Joe sleeping together. You flipped the TV off and let yourself lean into his arms a bit further, inhaling his scent of high end cologne and mint. He held onto you protectively, caging you into his embrace and brushing his nose against your hair. You slowly let 
yourself drift to the sound of his breaths.
⋆------------⋆
Joe woke up around six, he felt you pressing into him and against him first. His neck was stiff, wishing he’d have made it to your bed last night. He couldn’t recall falling asleep, assuming he had knocked out while you both watched the movie. He inhaled the scent of your shampoo, closing his eyes for a few moments and allowing himself to linger between that sweet spot of sleep and consciousness.
He savored the few moments of domesticity, wondering what it would be like to wake up in bed next to the other. Everything about you was so intoxicating, he had never been much of a risk taker before. He would have never risked bringing you into the locker room if he was in a completely sane state of mind. He thought of you with such desperation and yearning that he simply couldn’t have cared less about what anyone had to say about it.
Joe knew this made him selfish, made him irresponsible, and that was the worst part. He knew and he didn’t give a shit, he couldn’t stay away from you. Not that he had really tried, but he also lacked the desire to. Being around you was bad for him, Joe thought as he watched you sleep soundlessly beside him. You cause him to completely lose control of who he is and yet he cannot seem to stay away. 
Slipping out from behind you without waking you was difficult, but he managed to get out over the back of the couch and readjust the blanket to cover you. Joe walked around, grabbing his jacket and pulling it on whilst also cleaning up a bit and helping with the dishes he helped dirty. He came up with the idea to leave a note once he was left looking around your kitchen, shaking off his damp hands and pulling his sleeves back down. He found a notepad and pen easily, but stared blankly at the sheet. Is leaving a note too much? He had a hard time reading your attitude towards certain things, he had tried to get you to stay for breakfast and you flat out refused him. Perhaps it was better to adhere to what was agreed on, it would be like he was never there.
After a few seconds of contemplation, Joe sighed and set the pen down. He left quietly after brushing a hand over your head once more, shutting the door softly behind him so as not to wake you up. 
⋆------------⋆
When you rolled over to grab your phone, Joe was already long gone and his spot beside you had now gone cold. Yawning, you sat up and padded to the bathroom to pee and contemplate everything that had gone on during the previous night. At first glance, you assumed Joe had tidied up the strewn pillows on the living room floor and moved your phone to the coffee table. 
Once you made it into the kitchen, you realized he had washed the dishes that had been used and pulled out a sheet of paper. There was nothing written on it, pen sitting idly by as if he planned to write something for you to wake up to. Casual, you reminded yourself. Both of you had agreed on casual. 
The run you went on this morning was particularly long, headphones blaring as you pushed yourself further and further away from your complex. Thoughts of cheerleading and Joe weighed on your mind heavily, his head between your thighs the night before most certainly did not make it any easier for you to focus on controlling your breathing. Casual felt like a punishment, especially in this case. He couldn’t have felt a fraction of how you did, your thoughts occupied constantly with the sight of his unruly hair and large hands on your body. He was making you crazy, the way he touched you was genuinely driving you into insanity. Much less the fact that you risked your spot on the team each time you answered at his beck and call. 
Your phone began to ring, Lena’s caller ID popping up. You answered, sweat coating you like a layer of oil.
“Don’t freak out.”
“Freak out?” I heaved, taking a long sip of water. “Why would I freak out?”
“There’s a picture of you and Joe on Twitter. You can’t see your face at all and you’re at a red light, all you can see is him and some of your hair,” she informed you, cautiously attempting to keep your anxiety at bay. “It’s days old, but it popped up on my timeline just now and it has a few thousand likes.”
She sent you a screenshot, fingers shaking as you opened up your texts and tapped on the picture. It was a photo from the first night you’d gone to get food, a sneaky snapshot at a redlight when your window was half down. Thankfully, only your shoulders and the back of your head was visible under the light that made the color of your hair hard to detect. Joe was looking over at you, smiling with one hand occupied by the half-gone milkshake. 
Feeling like the wind was knocked out of you, you silently copied the image and sent it to Joe. 
“I feel like I should end things with him officially,” was all you said to Lena. “He wants casual and I’m not sure this is worth casual.”
lmk to be added to the taglist!
taglist - @humannoodlesoup @nikkisimps @teasandcrumpets @chmpgnnlace @hummusxx @rivivie @madsblogsstuff @nngkay @raeofsunshine629 @siutforjjmaybank @alternativemadchen @ryiamarie @ohreggieboy @coldheartedmar @obsessed-fan-alert @buckystwilight @dessxoxsworld @manic-pixie-bitch2 @hallecarey1 @heyitskay-21 @joselyn001 @stylesyourmine @toterry @countryday @adventuremood @blu3jeanbaby @sriusun @mikeyspinkcup @kittyhorror777 @riverdalexvixens @hornyforherbert @tomriddlesenchantress @nhlbabes @unsaidjaelinrose @joselyn001 @littlelou22 @harryweeniee
67 notes · View notes
bluecollarmcandtf · 19 hours
Text
Typical Day for a Mall Cop
My name's Bill, and I've been a guard at the mall for almost a decade now. It wasn't my dream job, but life has a way of creeping up on you with kids and a mortgage. I needed something to pay the bills, and I've always had a knack for watching over people.
Tumblr media
Like any other weekend, the mall is fairly busy, so I stay on my feet and patrol the halls for most of the day. Occasionally, I'll check in with the other mall cop, but my time is mostly filled with watching shoppers come and go. If anybody gets too rowdy, a stern look is enough to keep them in line.
A lot of the time, teenagers will loiter in stores. Some of them even try and bring their skateboards in, but it isn't too hard to make them adhere to the mall's strict policies. They might be young and clueless, but that doesn't mean I'll cut them any breaks.
Over by the fountain, I see one of the boys I admonished a week ago. I think I caught him shoplifting or something. Thieves normally get banned from the mall, but I didn't do that with this one. He said something that completely caught me off guard; he said he could hypnotize me.
I laughed in his face.
Amused inwardly by the boy's foolish claim, I walk over to check in with him. I'm sure he'll remember the security guard that almost kicked him out of the mall last weekend.
The kid is chatting with his friends, but they fall quiet when they notice me looming behind them. Like we'd discussed last week, I drop to my knees and kneel in front of the troublemaker. He explained that this is the best thing for me to do when I see him around, and I can't help but agree. I know the boy deserves my respect.
Tumblr media
I plant a kiss on both of his sneakers, and then wait for him to speak first. It takes a minute because he and his friends are busy cracking up over some unspoken joke. Whatever it is, clearly went right over my head.
"How you doin', mall pig?" the boy laughs.
I smirk at the nickname he's given me. We've gotten in the habit of calling each other by these pseudonyms, and I don't mind it.
"Very good, sir," I answer, using the name I've come to associate him with, "How are you?"
"Fine, I guess," he shrugs, "I spent your cash on kicks for my crew."
That reminds me of last week again. The boy had made it seem like a good idea to give him all the money I had, which included the paycheck I'd earned for last pay period. On the ground, I had a close view of all the vibrant sneakers the teenagers were wearing. It was nice to know he'd put my gift to good use, even if my wife had been pissed that I'd come home without my month's salary.
"You have another check for me, fat ass?"
His friends laugh at his new nickname for me, but I shake my head and answer a solemn, "No, sir."
The teenager groans and leads his gang of friends away, already bored with me. It seems like he's just going to leave me there, kneeling in the middle of the mall, until he turns and beckons me to follow. Inwardly, I'm glad that he's not done with me yet. I've come to enjoy our interactions a lot.
I follow the boys, crawling behind them all the way into a bathroom.
Tumblr media
"If you ain't got any cash to keep me and my crew entertained, then you're gonna have to do something to make us laugh," he explains.
"Of course, sir!" I smile, trying to express how willing I am to impress him and his friends.
"We'd find it hilarious if you dunked your head in each toilet," he adds blandly.
I light up. He's just explained how I can be of service and now all I have to do is follow through. I'm sure it'd be hilarious for them to watch a fully grown security guard giving himself a few swirlies. That's peak comedy!
"Watch this, sir!" I laugh, crawling over to the first toilet and shoving my face into the water without any hesitation.
I know the guy that's supposed to clean these bathrooms, and it's obvious he slacks off because there are skid marks all over. I try not to think about it as my cheeks and forehead brush against the bottom of the bowl. When I pull my face out of the flushing toilet, my ears pop and hear a roar of laughter behind me. The kids find it hilarious, which only fuels my desire to keep going.
With a gaping grin, I shuffle over to the next stall and repeat. There are six toilets in the men's restroom. Some are cleaner than others. The last one is a clogged mess, and the boys find it hilarious when I come up with toilet paper plastered to my face. I laugh through it all, even if the urge to puke is growing.
By the time I'm done, I'm soaked in toilet water, and the teenagers are in tears.
Tumblr media
"Alright, toilet guy. That was disgusting," the leader of the pack chuckles, grimacing in my direction, "You have a car or something?"
"Yes, sir. I've got a minivan in the parking lot."
"A minivan?" he seems disappointed, "Hand over the keys anyway. We wanna drive around."
"You got it, sir," I say, fishing the fob out of my damp pockets.
He swipes the keys out of my hand eagerly and turns to leave the bathroom. I start to follow the boys out, but he stops me.
"Why don't you stay in here 'till you dry off," he snorts, "You can spend that time in the corner, thinking about what you can do for me next time I'm at the mall."
"Yes, sir," answer, and the boys leave.
Tumblr media
Briefly, the thought of getting back to work crosses my mind. I really should be out there keeping an eye on the vendors and their merchandise, but that goes away. Like suggested, I stare at the dirty tile wall and begin to brainstorm what I can do for the boy the next time I see him.
My walkie goes off now and then with the voice of my coworker wondering where I am, but I ignore it.
After an hour or so, I've dripped mostly dry, but a strong stink still lingers around my head. Still, I've come up with a few different things I could have ready next week. It'll take some overtime to make extra cash for the boy. My wife won't be happy about that, but it'll give me a chance to actually have cash ready for him when he asks for it.
The only other thing I have to offer is the perks of my job. Maybe his friends and him would like a tour of the security office? I'd give them free reign of everything in the confiscated bin.
Speaking of my job, I should probably get back. My partner is probably angry at me for not answering the radio. He'll be happy when I tell him I'll take the late shift for the next few days. Hopefully he won't say anything about the smell. God, it's awful!
Just another day working as a mall cop!
60 notes · View notes
diorkyeom · 2 days
Text
: : angel.
joshua x dokyeom, idolverse, fluff, pining, light angst, heavy blond!dk appreciation ft. joshuas strange couch
2.2k+ words, no warnings
also on ao3 | listen i never expected to love blond!dk as much as i do but he's gorgeous and deserves a fic about him. also pining whipped shua ftw 😽😽
summary: “angel,” joshua murmured. “angel, seokmin. you look like an angel.” seokmin's eyelashes fluttered, beating softly like feathered wings. - or seokmin turns up at joshua's doorstep at 2:47am. and of course, there's no way that joshua would ever be able to turn him away.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
At 2:47am, someone came knocking on Joshua's door. 
He was unfazed by it, though, and simply lifted his head up from where he'd been lying in bed before making his way across his apartment, turning on the hallway light and unlocking the door with a smile. 
“Seokmin,” he greeted the younger man as he stood there at his doorstep, after having received the almost timid hyung, are you up? text from him all of 15 minutes ago. 
“Shua hyung,” Seokmin greeted back, though he blinked owlishly, as if he were surprised that Joshua was awake. 
Like he hadn't been the one to message him at almost three o'clock in the morning, Joshua thought, a touch of fondness in his smile. He didn't say anything else, though, and just stepped aside and beckoned him in.
Seokmin obeyed willingly, taking off his shoes and stepping into the hallway. His eyes were still wide, almost nervous, and he wrung his hands together as he took another hesitant step in Joshua’s direction. Joshua hadn’t moved, continuing to just smile openly at Seokmin, patient, simply waiting for the younger to explain what he wanted.
He'd always wait for Seokmin. He'd wait, and then give him anything at all, so long as it made Seokmin happy. 
After a moment, Seokmin stepped even closer and hugged him.
His arms wrapped tightly around Joshua’s shoulders, pulling him in so suddenly that Joshua let out a small “oh!” in surprise, before the sound melted into a fond chuckle as he let Seokmin burrow into his neck, wrapping his arms around the younger to hug him back.
“Did you miss me that much?” he teased, but he couldn't help the way the ends of his words softened with fondness. “We were literally together at work the entire day today, Seokmin.”
Seokmin huffed, and Joshua could feel him pouting into his neck. 
“No, of course I didn't miss you,” he said, even as his voice was a little muffled, refusing to remove himself from where he'd latched onto Joshua. 
“Oh, you didn't?” Joshua asked, amused. Seokmin huffed again, the noise tapering into a small whine that Joshua, devastatingly, thought was rather adorable. He chuckled, but didn't push any further, letting Seokmin bury himself into his neck, arms wrapped around his frame. 
This wasn’t the first time Seokmin had texted him in the thin hours of the early morning, asking Joshua if he was awake and if, perhaps, if it wasn’t too much of a bother, Seokmin could come round to say hi. Seokmin did it with all of them, especially as of late: he’d been having trouble sleeping, for reasons that he appeared to have only shared with Jeonghan. And whilst Joshua was concerned about Seokmin's recent bouts of insomnia, he didn't mind too much that Seokmin hadn't confided in him about the reason. Joshua was just grateful that Seokmin trusted him enough to come to him during these kinds of nights.
“Did you manage to sleep at all?” Joshua questioned softly, and Seokmin shook his head. He hummed. “Alright. Come on, then, let’s get you inside.”
He gently peeled Seokmin away from him, gently coaxing him further into the apartment so they could find somewhere that’d be more comfortable than just standing in his cold-floored hallway. They couldn’t make it all the way to Joshua’s bed as he’d originally intended, though, since after Seokmin whined a few times they ended up in the living room instead, which was only a few steps away from the door.
But at least, here, they could sit down, and Seokmin could cling to Joshua as much as he wanted.
Seokmin didn't come to Joshua during all of his sleepless nights, but he came often enough that he roughly knew what it was he'd come for, and what he wanted Joshua to do.
When Seokmin was in these moods—shy, nervous, meltingly soft and just a touch sleep-deprived—he became devastatingly clingy, all sprawling limbs as he seemed to want to try and smother Joshua, fingernails scraping uncomfortably against the bouclé texture of his cream coloured sofa as he adjusted himself against him. Joshua just let him, let Seokmin do whatever he needed to do, saying nothing other than humming contentedly when he finally settled down.
Seokmin’s head ended up on Joshua’s shoulder, arm wrapped around his front, legs thrown over his so that he was practically in Joshua’s lap, their legs tangling together. He could feel every inhale and exhale that Seokmin took. 
Hopefully, Seokmin couldn’t hear Joshua’s heart thumping unusually hard in his chest.
“Do you wanna tell me what’s really wrong?” Joshua asked, gentle, once Seokmin had gotten himself comfortably draped over him. The room was dark, save for the feeble yellow light spilling in from the hallway, but Joshua didn’t want to dislodge Seokmin for something as insignificant as being able to see properly. He could still see Seokmin, anyways, and that was enough. “Why did you message me at three in the morning, hm?”
Pressing his face into Joshua’s shoulder, Seokmin didn’t say anything for a long moment.
“...I just wanted a hug.”
It was always the same five words, with Seokmin apparently not wanting to go further into why he was really here. But Joshua didn’t mind. He never minded, not so long as Seokmin still came to him anyway.
He hummed softly. “That’s okay.”
Seokmin squeezed him tighter, and then relaxed.
Neither of them had breathed a word. They didn’t need to. Seokmin liked talking, liked telling stories and cracking silly jokes that made people laugh, and Joshua liked listening to every single one. He liked hearing him talk in that way, and liked that Seokmin also liked to talk, but that was only during the day. 
Seokmin didn't message Joshua in the middle of the night to talk. 
With one hand still massaging circles into Seokmin’s upper arm, Joshua patted Seokmin’s hair almost absentmindedly, running his fingers through the strands, and Seokmin made an involuntary noise, a shiver running through him. Joshua chuckled at his reaction, and Seokmin huffed, but still leaned back against Joshua’s hand to encourage the fingers in his hair.
Seokmin had dyed his hair recently, both for their new album and their new concert tour, and whilst Joshua hadn't been the biggest fan of the blond colour at first, he had to admit that it was growing on him. Especially when he was like this, with his soft, pale hair fanned out all around him, the white gold fringe moving with every blink that Seokmin took. The dimness of the room coupled with the pale warmth of his hair made him look like some sort of magical, mystical being. 
“Angel,” Joshua murmured to himself, but with the way Seokmin was pressed up against him, there was no way he couldn't hear. “Angel, Seokmin. You look like an angel.”
Seokmin's eyelashes fluttered, beating softly like feathered wings. “Hyung…”
He looked up at Joshua, brown eyes swirling with grains of gold. Beautiful, was Joshua's instant thought. And then he stopped thinking, tilting Seokmin’s chin upwards, thumbing at his cheekbone.
“You're the loveliest angel of all,” Joshua said, far too sincerely, but oh well. 2am Seokmin liked hearing these sincere things, and Joshua was never really in a position to deny him. “You’re beautiful, Seokmin-ah. Did you know that? Hyung thinks you’re the prettiest person in the universe.”
Seokmin flushed, and in the dim light, Joshua wouldn’t have been able to tell if he couldn’t feel it under his fingertips as Seokmin’s cheeks warmed.
“Shua hyung’s really pretty too,” Seokmin whispered, and goodness, Joshua’s heart felt like it could burst.
“I know,” he said, instead, and smiled as Seokmin let out a short, breathy laugh. Seokmin’s hair was a glowing halo around him, making his eyes shine. “I am really pretty.”
Seokmin laughed again, and Joshua's heart felt light. 
No one said anything else for a while after that. Joshua let Seokmin be, let him stay as quiet as he needed until the voices in his head finally died down and allowed him to think clearly once more. He just threaded his fingers through Seokmin’s pale gold hair, traced slow circles along his upper arm and allowed himself to be buried in this hug as Seokmin’s head lolled peacefully on his shoulder.
Noticing the way that Seokmin’s breathing had slowed down to peaceful, drowsy exhales, Joshua looked down at him, wondering whether Seokmin had drifted off already. 
But no, he wasn’t asleep yet, and Seokmin blinked up at him through shadowy lashes, mumbling something unintelligible. Joshua just smiled. Despite having a heart softer than the softest pools of golden light, Seokmin was rarely this gentle and still, and he cherished those moments when he could hold him like this, and not fear when his rays would slip through his fingers once more.
Joshua would never want to pin him down, though. 
Seokmin deserved to be free, and Joshua was content with being Seokmin’s safe place, his refuge, the horizon line that he could sink down into after a busy day of brightening everyone else’s lives.
“Stay with me tonight?” Joshua murmured, carding his hand through Seokmin’s hair again, letting the glowing strands feather out as they were slowly released. 
Seokmin shook his head, a rustle of movement against Joshua’s clothes. “Can’t,” he whispered back, then his face scrunched up into a yawn. “Need to wake up early tomorrow, and I don’t wanna disturb hyung’s sleep.” 
“Don’t worry about it. Stay as long as you need,” Joshua assured him, but despite the way his heart clenched, he wasn’t surprised by Seokmin’s answer. He rarely agreed, but Joshua always offered just in case this time, he’d say yes. 
Besides, Seokmin always ended up accidentally staying over anyways.
“I’ll go in fifteen minutes,” Seokmin murmured, but he burrowed himself further into Joshua’s embrace, fingers curling into the fabric of Joshua’s shirt. 
Joshua hummed, leaning back against the couch, going back to threading his fingers through the pale embroidery of Seokmin’s hair, silent. Seokmin was warm against him, a warm and steady presence, like some sort of endearing weighted blanket that made little contented noises every time Joshua scratched his fingers against his scalp in a pleasing way. It made him chuckle silently, pressing into the same spot again and again until Seokmin was so utterly relaxed that he was practically melting into him.
It only took Seokmin seven minutes to fall asleep. Joshua counted; he watched the hands of the clock in the living room as the minutes ticked by, and could pinpoint the exact moment Seokmin relaxed so fully that he couldn’t be anything but asleep.
As Seokmin dozed on his shoulder, though, Joshua couldn’t help but stay there for a few minutes longer, until ten extra minutes had passed and Seokmin continued to sleep peacefully against him. He wanted to keep this scene in his hands for just a few extra moments, with Seokmin resting against him, his hair an angel’s halo, his fingers curled almost protectively into Joshua’s shirt.
Like this, Joshua could almost pretend that Seokmin was his.
But it was, of course, only pretend, and so Joshua eventually shifted them both, gently untangling their legs so he could get a hand under Seokmin’s, the other hand supporting Seokmin’s back as he lifted him up.
“Come on,” he said softly, even though Seokmin couldn’t hear him. “Let’s get you to bed.”
Joshua wasn’t going to wake him up, of course. He may have fallen asleep surprisingly fast whilst all curled up against Joshua, but he didn’t know if Seokmin would be able to go back to sleep again if he was awoken once again. And so Joshua carried him out of the living room and into his own room, setting Seokmin gently down onto the bedding.
He made a quiet noise in his sleep as he was laid down, but Joshua made his own soothing noises in response, and soon Seokmin was happily curled under his covers, his hair now looking ivory-white in the darkness of the room.
“Angel,” Joshua said to himself with a smile on his face, for the second time that night.
This time, though, Seokmin really wouldn’t be able to hear, and Joshua thought it was better this way. The word had come out even more fond than last time, and he didn’t want to risk Seokmin knowing just how fond Joshua was of him.
Joshua stepped back, and quietly exited the room, prepared to spend the night on his own couch. Seokmin needed the bed more, anyways.
In the morning, Seokmin would come padding into the living room, rubbing his eyes and whining about how he didn’t mean to force Joshua out of his own bed and how Joshua really should have woken him up. Joshua would shake his head, smiling, say it was no big deal, and then offer to make Seokmin breakfast before he left.
Seokmin would still look like an angel, pale blond hair all messed up, and Joshua would still think he looked absolutely beautiful, and it would take everything in him not to say that out loud.
But Joshua would deal with that later. 
As he listened to his heart beating hollowly in his chest, he wondered whether Seokmin knew he held Joshua’s very soul in those golden-glowing hands.
Tumblr media
taglist (send ask if you wanna be added/removed!): @my-moarmy-heart @weird-bookworm @bangantokchy @bittersweet-folder @leigh-darling @ahuiahoe
46 notes · View notes
phantomgrimalkin · 3 days
Text
@moonwatermicrofics May 29 Prompt: Books
Rating: G (so I initially wrote 'e' thinking video game 'e for everyone' and I apologize to anyone I disappointed) Contains loose reference to child abuse (Walburga) and anxiety.
-
Remus used black. Regulus used blue. 
Remus had started it. With his secondhand books that were scuffed up and well loved before they touched his fingers, he had no difficulty writing all over them, marking them. Underlining, circling, starring, jotting notes on the sides. 
Regulus had grown up getting his knuckles bruised for turning the pages wrong on priceless tomes. Ancient books, many one of a kind. Every book in the Black home was expensive and, in his parents’ eyes, worth considerably more than their child's comfort.
There was no space for Regulus’s thoughts in the Black library.
The first time that Regulus borrowed a book from Remus, he had been horrified. It had been marked to pieces, wrecked, defiled, graffitied, dog eared. His hands ached and he winced at the thought of what his mother would have done to him for such acts.
This thoroughly distracted him from the sheer audacity of Regulus Arcturus Black reading a book by a muggle author, and he had cast ink erasure spells on the entire thing in an attempt to ‘save' the book. Only to find out that muggle printing presses couldn't stand up to spells, and Regulus had to sheepishly explain why Remus’s copy of The Hobbit was now blank. 
Remus handled it with amused kindness, the way he handled most things, and explained why he wrote in the books and that he didn't consider them ruined. Then he handed Regulus a copy of Frankenstein and a muggle pen, encouraging Regulus to try it.
The sight of Remus’s marks still filled Regulus with a sharp anxiety, but he did his best to ignore them and focus on the words. 
A few dozen pages in, the panic settled and he was able to start appreciating it. He'd linger on the passages that Remus felt worth circling, then start considering the notes he added. He could hear them in Remus’s voice, soft and smooth, could imagine the way he'd rub his finger over his lip thoughtfully while he murmured to himself.
The first time Regulus Black intentionally marked a book was in response to one of Remus’s notes. The man had noted a dry ‘idiot’ at some of Victor's missteps, and Regulus had made a little check mark to show his agreement. It was a silly little motion, something that might have been unnoticed, except the ink was different. The pen Remus had given him was blue.
The flash of color showed up brightly on the black and white page. Remus’s words were the same color as the text, like they belonged there. Regulus’s mark stood out.
Panic filled him again- was this a test? Was he fucking it up? A lifetime of punishments for unknown transgressions reared up.
It was Remus, though. Who had been more patient than Regulus deserved and never seemed to get angry.  
He chewed his lip. It was probably no big deal. Remus had said it was okay. Regulus could buy him a new book if it wasn't. 
It had been an accident, that Remus had given Regulus a blue pen.
Remus didn't use them, but sometimes the store only had mixed packs of the cheap ballpoints and he'd end up with blue pens in his bag and had gotten in the habit of, whenever someone borrowed a pen, he handed them a blue one he didn't want.
If he'd been paying more attention, maybe he would have made sure to give Regulus a black one– but he was too amused by rifling through the pristinely blank pages that had once detailed Bilbo's adventures as a burglar while the pureblood had explained that he had panicked when he saw it was written in and didn't realize that spell erased muggle text.
Which was a very good thing. Because when Remus rifled through Frankenstein, curious, he found that the blue stood out. He could instantly tell which pages had been written on. From the first, hesitant little check more than halfway through, growing slowly more bold, until the final chapter was awash with azure marks, Regulus’s response to the emotional climax of the tragedy. 
Remus smiled to himself, and made sure to always hand Regulus a blue pen when the man borrowed his books.
34 notes · View notes
justanamesstuff · 1 day
Text
Sweeter than honey - Hozier x f!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
A/N: sorry not sorry if this is the most cliché thing about Andy but couldn't help my self. This fic is a statement to say this man deserves more stories under his name <33 love you forest daddy (hope you never reads this haha) Warnings: FLUFF, typos Words count: 0.7 k
The short path from Andrew’s house to the –no so small — patch of his land, destined to his bees, felt like it took ages to walk down. She felt her stomach turn due to anxiety thinking about the task in hand. Y/n had been stung by a bee during her childhood, traumatizing her enough so the pain, the fear, remained for years and years. The woman damned herself for being in love with the biggest beekeeper around town. 
 Her sight fell on Andrew’s back, watching him walk with so much excitement, she couldn’t reciprocate. The man had been trying for the longest time to convince his girlfriend to meet his bees, being the offer declined time and time again. Until Y/n felt guilty enough and finally said yes. She would never forget the bright smile he gifted her when Y/n timidly asked about the process and she could join him during his next visit. 
As if he could sense her eyes on him, Andrew turned around still walking not wasting any minute, scared about Y/n changing her mind. 
“Baby?” his smile fell a little. 
“If one of them sting me…” she warned him, still scared of the situation. 
Andrew stopped in his tracks, worried about his girlfriend once more. The man grabbed her hand on his, sharing some warmth, wishing it could take away her fear. 
Searching for her eyes, he continued, “trust me, okay?”
Y/n couldn’t help to push her feet down on the earth like a little child throwing a tantrum. The act made her boyfriend laugh. 
“Baby…” she wanted to wipe his amusement away. 
“Stop making fun of me. This is serious for me, Andy.”
He moved closer and closer, rounding her with his big arms. 
Y/n felt his breath on her hair line, “I know, I know. Everything will be okay, I wouldn’t let you get hurt, baby. I promise.” Andrew ended his sentence leaving a kiss on her forehead. 
“Okay, let's do this.” she moved backwards, giving him a stronger look than before, trying to let him know she was ready.
Hand in hand, they approached the colonies. 
……………………………………..
In the end, Y/n had fun with Andrew and his bees. He showed her the day-to-day work, the progress of each colony, and even she saw a queen from up close, which excited her the most. She did fell scared during the first movements when he was worried about a box falling apart and all his attention was in transferring the colony to their new home. 
Even though after that short moment, her boyfriend was focused on making her fell comfortable around his little friends. It was even ironic how gentle the bees were, just as Andy, making her fell quickly in love with them. 
Y/n watched him too his special outfit, trying to comb his long hair, and like a little excited girl she started talking. 
“So, when do we come back?” 
Andrew chuckled.
“Someone is not scared any more, huh?” he teased her, combing his hair back into his signature bun. 
Y/n felt too seen by her boyfriend, “Well, I-” 
“We can return tomorrow, if you want…” Andrew offered, taking her face between his big hands.
“Really?”
“Yes, baby. Whatever you want.”
“I would love to!” she answered, looking into his soft eyes. 
“Me too.” he left a kick kiss on her lips, feeling her relax into his embrace. 
Y/n was the first one to push back, “I can’t wait to see them again.”
Andrew, amazed by her changed of attitude towards the bees, faked a frown. 
“I’m starting to believe you prefer them over me.” 
“Hundred percent yes!” Y/n joined the joke, whispering her answer before covering her mouth quickly with her hand. “Never, my love.”
The singer laughed at her antics, leaning down to kiss her once more. 
Without many more words, Andrew and Y/n walked in silence towards his house when an intrusive though crossed Y/n’s head. 
“Would you name a queen after me?”
Andy stayed silence.
“Andy?”
Still no answer.
“Don’t tell me…”  Y/n turned to witness a very red-faced Andrew. “Stop it! You’re too sweet to be true, honey!” she exclaimed, making her best effort to kiss his blushed cheeks. 
33 notes · View notes
nunalastor · 2 hours
Note
Hi! next part of Snow White + Tangled AU (still taking suggestions for a name, I'll probably end up writing a whole fic)
Alastor was losing his patience.
He never really cared about the "King of Hell", but ever since the little man arrived at the doors of Charlie's hotel, it's just been one disappointment after another.
And, of course, he trusts Roo not to give him valuable information! It's always the same with her, she will only give you enough information to work with, only to punish you if she doesn't like the results, or take credit if you somehow end up doing exactly what she wanted.
At least Charlie wasn't a relevant project for her. But it really would have been useful to know her origins, he could have gotten a lot out of that information. Anyway, it's not that that's important now, he's not going to be bitter about it. After all, so far the results of his decision have been satisfactory.
Honestly, there was a time when he thought Roo could be Charlie's mother, but he ruled it out as time went by. It's a relief, motherhood isn't for everyone, and Roo definitely shouldn't be on that list...just like Queen Lilith apparently.
The first time he saw the king was interesting, he tried to attack him as soon as he saw him after a brief conversation with Charlie. It was so fun to see his daughter putting the little man in his place. But then she explained who she had just kicked out of the hotel and it was just disappointment after disappointment.
In their second meeting, the king was no longer going directly to try to kill him, but that did not make him any less calm. He just kept accusing him of Charlie's kidnapping, which is fair, the king doesn't have to believe him and he doesn't have to justify himself.
He suggested to Charlie that, when the king returned with the supposed evidence he had gone to look for, it should be just her and the king. Charlie was just worried that this situation would change something between them, but he dismissed it, nothing has to change.
From that moment on, Alastor's patience has been tested. The king turned out to be like all the rich men of his time, buying people with trinkets, trying to dazzle everyone with their wealth and power, pampering their legitimate children and only throwing a few coins to their bastards if they remembered that they had.
Alastor has kept his distance. Not only does he want to respect Charlie's limits and her possible relationship with her biological father, he also wants to show her that, unlike the king, he can behave like an adult in this situation. On the other hand, the king, every time he sees him, has to make a conscious effort not to attack him either physically or verbally, and that makes Charlie nervous, which amuses Alastor a little, but mostly makes him uncomfortable. He knows that this whole situation makes Charlie tense, and the little king is not helping with his childish attitude (according to his height, honestly).
What ended his calm was seeing how the little king simply seemed to lose his patience just a couple of months later, dismissing Charlie's ideas and trying to take her away. Simply telling her that her whole idea of a charity hotel would be counterproductive because sinners would only take advantage of her, and anyway, it's not like sinners deserve better, they do horrible things after all, like kidnapping innocent babies and taking them away from them families.
And Alastor simply had enough. He doesn't really care what the king thinks of him, he doesn't want to meet him, and the feeling really is mutual at this point, but after all that talk, saying how much he missed his daughter, he hoped the king would take the time to meet to Charlie instead of just pretending like nothing had happened. As if Charlie had not spent almost 100 years, all of her life, living with sinners, as if she had not spent her entire life learning from him and from those who have surrounded her until now.
The king is not entirely wrong, many of those in hell deserve to be there, it is supposed to be punishment for their decisions, in fact, there are those who deserve worse, but he cannot just so easily dismiss the ideals that Charlie formed by seeing sinners up close.
And, of course, he is not a good person, he has never pretended otherwise. In fact, if he had found any other sinner the day he found Charlie, he would have put them in an oven with the same ease that he put Charlie in her crib every night. If he had found any other sinners, he would have boiled them in a saucepan with the same ease with which he put Charlie in the bathtub when she needed a bath. With any other sinner, he would have written a recipe book as easily as he wrote children's stories he remembered so he would have something suitable to read to Charlie. But the truth is that it was not just any other sinner, it was Charlie, a baby that he decided to take care of with the memories of his mother always in mind. The one he found in a basket was a baby, whom he accompanied, stayed by her side, held her when she screamed and cried because of a nightmare or a minor injury. Whom he educated and guided, who he encouraged to make her own decisions, who he taught how to be respected. Who he took to his friend Rosie to make sure she always had a safe place to go. Whom he watched from afar when she played with other children in the Cannibal Town square. Whom he saw grow up while being just as feared and respected as him by her own means. Who tried to defend him when someone who was his friend for 30 years betrayed him and tried to attack her, which immediately ended their friendship.
It is when he feels the presence of his daughter, hugging him from behind, that he realizes that he said all that out loud. It is when he realizes that the king is there, looking at him with a look that reveals confusion, surprise and horror. The king has not moved from his place next to the portal he opened when he tried to take Charlie, but he notices that he is shaking, while he seems to think of something to say.
Alastor sighs, regains his composure as he walks away from Charlie and approaches the king, and with a snap of his fingers he makes two thick books appear. They are copies of a photo album and a scrapbook. He also makes the basket in which Charlie came into his life appear, with the blanket and clothes included. He gives everything to the king and is firm when he tells him to take the time to get to know Charlie, to stop being a king (if he ever was one), to stop being a wallet and start being a father if it's what he really wants.
The king leaves without saying a word, with all the items held firmly in his arms. If among the pages of the books the king finds the note that told Alastor to take care of the baby, with a characteristic signature, well...no one can refute that Alastor could have simply forgotten that it was there.
Two weeks pass, and Alastor feels a chill down his spine, a chill that is supposed to be a caress, supposed to be a reward for a job well done. He's confused, but at least it didn't backfire on him.
A month passes for the king to appear again. He literally just appeared in Alastor's room, looking haggard, exhausted. Alastor supposes that he can let the impertinence slide just for the pleasure that such a pitiful image brings him.
"Can you tell me about my d...can you tell me about Charlie? Please?"
👀
26 notes · View notes
cressthebest · 2 days
Text
Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 21
chapter 36:
1. “It's been so long. Oh, there you are, here you are, hi,” *deep breath* AHHHHHHHHH
2. 😭😭😭 “Remus keeps a firm grip on him and turns around to promptly leave, which is probably a little rude, considering that the others are here and may wish to greet him, but he honestly can't bring himself to care about that right now” i would expect nothing less
3. WOLFSTAR REUNION!!!! I AM IN SHAMBLES!
4. “On the way, James glances back with a grin, internally wishing Sirius all the good things, because no one deserves them more.”
oh. wow. that’s such a soft line. it’s literally making me melt
5. “Remus could not be more in love if he tried.” shit shit shit shit sobbing. wolfstar deserves the world
6. “He does love Sirius, though. Loves him dearly, with every defiant bone in his body. This man, who doesn't even realize the importance of what he's just done by giving Remus an unopened envelope. Remus, who owns nothing. Remus, who has nothing. Remus, who is not granted privacy or freedom for anything like this, for anything at all.”
i am on PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION and i am BAWLING my eyes out as silently as i possibly can. y’all don’t understand the restraint i have right now to not loudly sob
7. the LETTER has me CRYING
8. THE SECRET MESSAGE
9. oh, okay. remus killed an auror/greyback. it’s honestly not as bad as i thought it would be. also, i love the lily and remus duo. they’re so iconic
10. i LOVE LOVE LOVE that zar made a point for sirius to have the discussion that his demisexuality is NOT because of trauma and he’s always been that way. it’s beautiful <3
11. “”You can ask Regulus and James; I walked around for a solid month making everyone call me Mr. Sirius Macdonald."” STOP PLSS THATS SO FUNNY
12. SIRIUS JUST TOLD REMUS HE LOVED HIM!!! this is literally so sweet
13. andjskjdksksjsms the authors note:
“sirius, internally: a guillotine could not sever the head im about to give this man. good for them 😌”
chapter 37:
1. i’m starting a gofundme to get regulus a balcony
2. "”Sirius doesn't let me drink," James replies flatly.
"Well, don't say it like that, James. You make it sound like I'm a strict parent, or a controlling spouse," Sirius grumbles. "And I do let you drink, in moderation, when you're in a safe environment and in a good mental state. Don't forget to mention that you only let me drink within those same rules."”
i bet james is upset with the rules he made for sirius so long ago. came back to bite him in the ass
3. describing sirius as “ruffled like an offended bird” has done wonders for my mental health
4. james, remus, and sirius are all hanging out and i am beyond angry that peter doesn’t get to share this moment
5. pandora is such an angel and doesn’t deserve this pain
6. pandora and reg friendship >>>>>>>>>
7. their outfits for the night!! every last one of them is slaying so hard
8. “There's a tense moment where a group of murderers all stare around at each other, not opposed to adding a few more names to their lists. Oh, and Pandora is there, too, startlingly calm despite this.”
yaxley needs to shut his fucking mouth and stop implying that sirius will fuck his way through issues
9. “"You know what they'll assume we're doing."
"Running away," Regulus mutters.
James sighs in exasperation and fond amusement. "No, Reg. Fucking. They'll assume we've snuck off to find a corner to go fuck in."”
😭😭😭😭😭 i love reg. he’s so ready to leave
10. jegulus is getting their shit together and improving. i’m so glad
11. “James swallows. "They're—they destroy things now, when they never did before. They're rough sometimes. Bloody."
"Warm," Regulus counters, pressing another kiss to James' shaking fingers. "Steady. Strong. These hands hold the people you love. These hands care for them. They're gentle. Tender."”
this is love. what they have is love. it’s messy and broken and so difficult, but they’re trying and it’s love
12. and once again we have wolfstar my true loves ☺️☺️
i feel like nows a good time to add to respect bizzarestars’ wishes to not have the fic reposted or reuploaded a different site. i can’t remember his wishes about bookbinding, but respect those as well.
thank you, lovely people
31 notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 23 minutes
Note
the sleepy remus drabble was everything but what about sleepy james x reader just cuddling on the couch with remus and sirius teasing them omfgg
Thanks for requesting lovely! I realized halfway through writing this that I wasn't sure if you meant rem and sirius were there platonically or not, but I hope this is alright <3
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 870 words
Even when you hear the voices, you pretend you don’t, too comfortable on the plush cushion of James’ hoodie. Opening your eyes isn’t worth the effort. 
“Is this what they do when we’re not home?” Sirius’ voice is low and ripe with faux outrage.
James hushes him, so he’s awake apparently. His thumb moves over your tummy, big hand tucked into the warmth between your sweatshirt and your bare skin. “You’ll wake her,” he says, voice still sticky with sleep.
“She ought to be awake, it’s five in the afternoon!” 
Remus’ voice is softer, skeptical. “I don’t see how either of you expect to sleep through the night if you nap like this during the day.”
“We manage,” James yawns. 
You hear Sirius huff. If the muscles in your face were more active you think you’d smile. “I thought we were going to Marlene’s thing tonight,” he complains. 
“Still planning on it.” James’ palm splays over your middle, warm and safe. “We’re resting up.” 
“This is how you prepare for Friday nights now? Fuck, we must be getting old.” 
You whine at his volume, nuzzling your face into James’ chest. 
“Oh, so she is awake. What, sweet thing, you don’t feel like saying hi?” 
This time James coos at your protesting sound. His hand slips from beneath your sweatshirt to wrap around your shoulders, shielding you from your pestering boyfriend. 
“Oh, let’s have a bit of sympathy,” Remus says, sounding amused, “she’s had a long, hard day of napping. She deserves a bit of rest.” 
You want to remind him it’s your day off, but speaking feels like giving into wakefulness, and that is something you are not inclined to do. Instead, you try to wriggle beneath the blanket halfway up James’ torso, curling in on yourself like a roly poly. He helps you out, pulling it up to cover your head and draping an arm over your balled-up form. 
“It’s her day off,” he says, your hero. “Why shouldn’t she get to rest?” 
“That’s fair enough,” Remus allows, “but why were you sleeping?”
James hesitates. “Well, I didn’t have anything to do after training and she…she lured me in.” 
It’s true. James after rugby training is like Remus after he spends all day reading; he’s all worn out and pliable, and you’d practically only had to open your arms for him to fall right into them and then a cuddle on the couch had turned into a two-hour nap. Terribly unfortunate. Certainly not your plan all along. 
You decide it’s your turn to protect James from the others, wriggling up on his chest and covering his head with the blanket. You see his smile through half-lidded eyes, and outside of your little cave, Remus chuckles. 
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” 
“I think we should get in bed and have a cuddle they’re not invited to,” says Sirius. “See how they like it.” 
“I’m not sure we can leave them in good conscience.” The sound of Remus' smile makes you smile, your cheek smushing into James’ chest. “She’s just taken Jamie. If we let her go on like this, she’ll have them both sleeping ‘til tomorrow.” 
That actually sounds rather appealing. 
“They’re jealous of us,” James whispers. You hum your agreement, and he kisses the crown of your head. 
“We could go to all their favorite things,” Sirius proposes. “Make them remember the benefits of leaving the couch.” 
“Like what? Watch sports?” 
“And eat pastries. She loves a sweet.” 
“Mm, yeah. I could fancy a sweet.” 
“From the shop on sixth? They should still be open, yeah?” 
“Stay strong, angel,” James whispers. “Don’t let them break you.” 
“They ought to be. Oh, and the pub down that way will be showing the Manchester match tonight. We could stop and see that.” 
“Sick and twisted!” James throws the blanket off, uncovering you in the process. “You never watch football with me.” 
“I have,” Remus hedges, “that one time.” 
“Last year! And you were reading your book on the other side of the pillow!” 
He turns sheepish. “Didn’t realize you’d noticed that.” 
“But now you’re going to watch it just to spite me?” 
“No,” Sirius admits. “We were never going to watch football, Jamie, sorry.” James deflates, and you squeeze him tight around the middle in a show of solidarity. 
“But we can go by the bakery on our way to Marlene’s thing,” Remus says, adding when you perk up, “if we leave soon enough. They make those danishes you like on Fridays, don’t they?” 
“Seriously?” you ask, your voice croaky and hopeful. 
“That’s me, babe,” Sirius teases, “and I’m down to stop by, but only if I get what I’m owed.” At your blank look, he raises a dark brow. “My welcome home kiss?” 
Oh. “You’re gonna have to come down here,” you mumble. He makes a show of rolling his eyes, but obliges you, bending at the waist to take your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours firmly. He does the same to James once you’re done, straightening with a satisfied look on his face. 
“Appeased?” Remus asks placidly. 
“Yes,” Sirius answers, “the evening may now continue. Up, you two. We’ve got places to be.” 
23 notes · View notes
paimonial-rage · 1 year
Text
cocky bastard vibes - zhongli
Tumblr media
ship: zhongli x reader
synopsis: in which reader shares their free thoughts on the liyue statue of seven
notes: standalone snippet part of the bookkeeping!verse
Tumblr media
It was a beautiful day in Liyue. The grass was a luscious green and the birds were singing a beautiful song. After a nice stay at the Emerald Maple Inn, you and Mr. Zhongli decided to have a cup of tea next to the Statue of the Seven before heading on your way to Qingce Village. You were to accompany him to pick up supplies for the next funeral rite, and with the way the morning was going, you knew nothing would ruin this peaceful day.
"So how much do you want to bet that Rex Lapis was hot and knew it?”
You ignored the choked sound that came from your side as you gazed up at the picturesque statue. Though your companion would probably consider your question quite out of the blue, you couldn’t say it was the first time you wondered such a thing. Whenever you passed by one of them in Liyue, the thought always plagued your mind for a few hours after. Judging by Mr. Zhongli’s reaction, though, it seemed he did not share your sentiments.
"Ehem… That… certainly is an interesting thought. I can’t say whether or not previous records touched on such a topic."
You hummed, gazing up at the statue. Really? That couldn’t be true. Why wouldn’t anyone talk about a statue looking like that?
“Well there are many reasons why I’d say I’m right. First off, his outfit. He has a hooded cloak on while also being shirtless. There’s absolutely no logical reason to dress like that unless they’re from the deserts of Sumeru, wouldn’t you say? It obviously was a conscious fashion decision. If you pair that with the seductive way he’s sitting, I’d be inclined to assume he’s quite clearly feeling his look.”
Silence came from your side. Hm, Mr. Zhongli still wasn’t convinced? Then you would go on.
“You do see it, right? His posture is relaxed, yet confident. Not to mention the way he’s looking at that cube in his hand with practically bedroom eyes. His knees are apart too. My friend from Sumeru told me that when a man sits like that, he’s displaying his dominance.”
Still silence.
"You can't sit in a seductive pose like that without on some level being aware you look good doing it. I mean look at him! He's shirtless and everything! I've heard even macho fishermen say that they pray to the statue for a good night before coming home to see their wives. You can’t blame them, right?"
A hesitant cough.
"I-I'm sure it was a younger time when those statues were sculpted."
You groaned.
"Maybe, but you’re not even looking! If you did, you’d agree with me that Rex Lapis is clearly exuding such massive 'cocky bastard' vibes!" You countered.
For some reason, the more you spoke, the more flustered he became.
"C'mon, Mr. Zhongli! Why are you so embarrassed? It's not like I'm slandering his good name! I mean, if Rex Lapis didn't want us talking about him like this, maybe he shouldn't have made a statue with abs clean enough to eat off of!"
Okay, maybe at this point, you were piling it on a bit thick. Could anyone blame you? His face was in his hand as if he had a headache, and were his ears tinged the slightest hint of red? It was an interesting sight. Never had you seen him look so completely flustered. Sure you were rather blunt, but you didn't think your words were that provocative. Mr. Zhongli really was practically a 65 year old man.
"I thought you respected the Geo Archon…" He muttered weakly.
You gasped in offense.
"I do! I’d even consider my words the utmost of pious behavior. In Mondstadt, the sisters of the church consider themselves married to Barbatos, the Anemo Archon. So finding the Geo Archon to be a sex god is pretty much the same thing, right?”
“No, it is not.”
2K notes · View notes
villainvillain · 7 months
Text
aaanyways overall fionna and cake was still great i loved it so much even if the final two episodes are the weakest for me personally :) (praying for more seasons or some sort of distant lands-esque miniseries where we follow fionna or simon or whateva... doing their thang)
21 notes · View notes
yeonban · 16 days
Text
Tumblr media
This ends me every time I come across it bc it's THE most fitting Tobias statement in existence. I very much think that if he wouldn't have had to save himself time and again throughout his entire childhood, he would have had no issue with being one of L's men! Hell, he would've probably even been fine acting as a 'bodyguard' the way Watari did and would've paid no heed to the idea of sacrificing himself for L's safety like a lamb to the slaughter if need be, because he'd have liked L as the symbol of justice and he always returns favors/pays people back for what they've done for/to him (whether good or bad).
The issue is that he was NEVER ONCE in his life helped by law enforcement nor anyone related to it. If anything, he saw several people from the 'good side' partake in egregious dealings with his family and absolutely none of them spared a single thought to maybe helping the kid slowly bleeding out to death in the house every other time they came around. What did save him was acting the same way his enemies (parents, as part of the mafia) were, which set him out on a similar path. At that point people would've still had a(n albeit tiny) chance to 'set him right', but instead of a good samaritan taking him in & raising him like a normal kid, it was Watari who found him. And for a while it went well - he learned the people who took him off the streets were L's people and he used to hear about L from his parents (they hated him, obviously); they didn't abuse him (well. to his standards; I'd say Wammy's is very much a house of neglect); they allowed him to be around kids his age and make friends; they gave him the best education in the world - but all that stopped being a thing 'good people' did the first time he realized what the purpose of the House is and, in his eyes, Watari didn't help him for selfless reasons - it was to gain something from him, and maybe if it had been something else he would've been fine with it, but it was his identity; the only thing Tobias had. Then after his disillusionment he kept noticing worse things (how each letter being handed down to them means the one who held it prior died, which means several dozen of children/young adults from the program; how they were allowed to leave and die out in the streets if they felt like it etc), and then years later came L's famous shattering of hearts where he told the orphans that he doesn't do things for justice, that he too could be considered a criminal in the eyes of the law if they heard of some of his dealings.
All things considered, Tobias became a far more well-adjusted person than could have been hoped for sb in his circumstances. He appreciates the House for the opportunities it brought him, but he simultaneously has resentment for it and the staff (+L) attached to it. He doesn't care about how they do things, but his vision of justice is wholly different from theirs. He finds fault in their approaches, and unlike L you can expect Tobias to help you if you ask or beg him to even if he doesn't have any interest in your 'case'. While L is busy taking care of the most heinous cases that haven't yet been cracked, Tobias takes care of the actual evil entrenched in the system; from politicians, to the army, to the mafia, to practically every facet of society you can think of; aka the sides that he was abused by and the ones he's certain are of much more importance to the regular person than some far off genius criminal from the other side of the world. The people abused by law enforcement; the people taken by the mafia; the people accused as scapegoats; they're all people that Tobias willingly helps by taking them out of their situation and giving them enough $ to be set for life afterwards. If someone like him had been there for him when he was a child, he would've had a normal life. But there wasn't, so he's become it for everyone else in his former position/a similar position to the one he found himself in almost two decades ago.
#muse: tobias.#* tobias. / development.#Sometimes I stare at a wall and think about how different Tobias could've been if things had aligned better for him#Wammy's WAS very much a good thing per overall! but it too ended up exacerbating his decisions for his future/current lifestyle#Tbf Tobias doesn't detest his current lifestyle. He doesn't even dislike it. It feels about as natural to him as breathing#and he LIKES delivering payback!! It's one of his favorite things. And he equally loves having the means to enjoy things he couldn't before#but at the end of the day he's become a very... detached person in a sense? I mean he doesn't /feel/ much. When he kiIIs; he doesn't feel#when he helps; he doesn't feel much either. He had one (1) emotion growing up (rage) but he got rid of it when he realized that#being angry all the time would've not only been exhausting but also a hindrance to thinking clearly which he could Not have#if he planned to survive any amount of time in the 'field' he's chosen. THAT is why he's so fond of and helpful to amusing people#they make him feel /something/ and that something is; for once; a POSITIVE emotion!!! The only other times he's actively having fun#are when he sees the looks of utter shock & terror on his enemies' face when they didn't expect him to best them and get what they deserve;#and SOMETIMES when he tries new things. Not Most things though. He prefers those that inject some more adrenaline into him#Tobias when he comes across a funny person; which in turn makes him feel Not Empty Inside: (hovers around them like a curious dog)
5 notes · View notes
drysauce · 9 months
Text
fuck this shit i'm NOT working this summer
#the initial plan was to work august september#but it turned out i'll be going to vienna at the beginning of september so i was planning to work for almost the whole august instead#so i messaged a buddy of mine who's been already working in a few shops#to ask which ones would be most eagar to hire me for a month#he didn't tell me and instead went 'lmao only for a month?' and it somehow pissed me off so much#i don't need money at the moment because i have a shit ton of savings so i was planning to work mostly so i wouldn't sit bored at home#but everyone around me seems to think that all people my age should definitely work for the whole summer#that at this age that's how ot should be because adults should work instead of staying at home for weeks#well fuck you all the same thing was going on when i said i wouldn't make a diving license ans that's why im already considered a#disappointment to society#i was grinding the schoolwork like crazy this year and ended up with maxed grades from the majority of the subject meaning i will most#definitely get a scholarship that is like 500-800zl a month for a year#which is FAR MORE than I'd make working in some clothes store for 2 months#i was working so hard at school i believe i deserve a break during holidays because guess what? IM TIRED#and a perspective of resigning from a trip with friends to tire myself more at work isn't amusing to me#'but your cousin didn't go on a vacation and is working this summer'#well during the schoolyear she and her girlfriend were making cosplays amd visiting places (good for them) so she's probably not as fed up#with everything and doesn't mind working because she doesn't feel that much of a need for a break#but i do and im so damn mad at everyone who tells me otherwise#fuck off i already worked my ass off for last 9 months to get that damn scholarship so these holidays im resting#next two semesters i'll tone down om schoolwork and getting 5s only and then work during summer but not this year#AGHH i hate it here
6 notes · View notes
deus-ex-mona · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
belated ✨congratulations✨ to dai for being the first ft4 member to get 2 5☆s!!!!
10 notes · View notes
stressed-bird · 2 years
Text
Unbound Shadow AU (continued)
We have established Macaque decided to “go with” Lady Bone Demon over Sun Wukong.
Now we see what happens after that decision /lh
(Yeah, i AM unhinged and inspired about this au, and i could be talking at a wall and still be just as passionate)
(Formerly called a loyal shadow au)
It has been 500 years since Macaque has seen the world (since his death)
(I went ballistic at 12am one night when I realized the monkies had pseudo-canonical ages on their pokemon trainer cards—Swk at 5k years and Mac at 4.5k... I cried trying to make sense of this because of the timeline of events and had to resign myself to the conclusion that Mac and Swk’s age discrepancy is because Mac has been dead for 500 years... another party of why i cried was their pseudo-canonical pokemon teams but that’s an issue for another day. Even though I do already have a pokemon au plotline mostly figured out /srs)
But back on topic, Macaque has been gone for 500 years and the world has progressed a long way... long enough to start having and making noisy machines that nip at the bud of any ideas Mac had involving living among humans
So he turns his attention below the earth... to below where the key calls him to go... calls him to her tomb. Except he doesn’t go that far.
Macaque just finds himself a nice, secluded, and well hidden cave and makes THAT his home that he stays in—the racket of humanity dulled by the distance and many meters of solid stone and earth between his sensitive ears and them, but not dulled enough that he is once again cemented in the silence of death
It’s a pretty nice existence, Macaque slowly leaving his demon den and interacting with the growing city above him and trying to figure out where to carve his place into the world (he’s always been the king’s shadow, the demon being the one to give the wandering demon a home and purpose, a duty and direction in life)
(And now, he can see what LBD is doing—she’s trying to slot herself into that space, the sun that brought light to his world. But what she is, is a poor imitation and too late—macaque won’t fall into that type of dynamic again, not if he can avoid it. What he knows he DOESN’T need is another Sun Wukong in his life—not another sun, not another demon that takes his life and makes it have meaning)
(He doesn’t need someone else to give his life meaning, he’s determined with his second chance at life to give BE the one that gives HIS life meaning (even as the key snarls at him that his new life isn’t his to own, not his to command, that there is no such thing as do-overs, that he HAD his life to command and he gave it to someone else and now he is selfishly taking the life he got given for himself than using it for its intended purpose) )
The place Macaque eventually carves into the world for himself... is as a passive demon just hibernating in his shadows and watching (and ignoring the key’s whispers), after all... he doesn’t have anything against humanity (only against ONE human but he doesn’t matter, NEITHER of them matter, he shouldn’t care and thus he doesn’t care)... and anyways, his days of being a Warrior are behind him... with humanity (over the course of long centuries) being able to contest demons for territory and demons shrinking away into the shadows and crevasses of the world
Macaque watches the remains of the ancient world he belongs to melt away... and he doesn’t cling to that ancient world, keeping an open mind and changing with the city that has gained the name of Megapolis—invests into his interests and passions that before he’d never given much time to
Man goes full teacher and theatre volunteer mode—he didn’t spend his hibernation doing nothing, he just hoarded weapons and tools and decided to spend his time mastering them because when you get to live forever, you need something to keep busy that’s not your own mind—so he teaches basic things like self-defense to humans and other demons alike, but has a large array of other classes he could do if asked to
(He doesn’t mess with the movie or show industry—partly because he’s really passionate about the traditional arts, also partly because he is NOT going to let himself get cast as his ex even if he would be able to do the best imitation of him) ((the thought of impersonating wukong... it brings him sour memories. And also he has no interest in making his presence known to the world))
The only people that need to know he exists is the people that watch his shows and take his classes. Period. No one else.
By this point, he’s fully moved out of his little cave and among humans—he sometimes glamours himself, sometimes he doesn’t, but he is always mindful to keep his magical presence small—you wouldn’t really find him if you weren’t looking for him specifically
This means that no, neither Princess Iron Fan or Red Son find Macaque, man is mingled into the sauce of humans and demons in Megapolis and keeping his presence small enough that he pops up on the demon magic radar as another small fry and not a demon in the same power class as Sun Wukong
The “The Moon Will Sing” inspiration for a lot of this is the lyrics “I could have been anyone, Anyone else / Before you made the choice for me”—a lot of this au could be figured out from listening to the song and imagining it as Macaque dialogue
Am I making a reflection on the observation that Macaque has made his life just REVOLVE around Sun Wukong like how the Moon revolves the Earth? Yes.
And i say that this mess of a man gets to find his own life purpose and find what HE wants to do and not have SWK and what he will think or feel about those choices as a factor
(He really could’ve been anything, since he has a talent for story telling and theatre, can be an effective teacher, and his a powerful demon in his own right)
(And yet... when his wild heroic king wanted someone he could battle side by side with, someone he would be unstoppable with... that is what Macaque became, Macaque made himself the Warrior to his king’s Hero)
Oh and the way that Macaque is holding LBD hostage is that he has made her tomb’s key a necklace and wears it all the time so even her thrall, The Mayor, is actually unable to get a hold of the key to try to give it to someone else—and she knows the shadow demon included her voice in the muffling seal he made for his ears to survive living in the big city that is Megapolis so she can’t even yell or threaten him to give the key to her thrall
She is being held hostage and the Mayor can’t do anything about it
(Yes, i do believe that in Season 2’s Shadow Play, a good reason for how The Mayor was able to overtake Macaque was because LBD was free and thus he had access to her full well of magic to power himself up (and as we know, LBD is powerful enough to possess Sun Wukong and the Mayor himself was able to go toe-to-toe with SWK... while his Lady is free from her tomb) )
(—But here LBD is still caged up, so Mayor has a lot less of her magic to work with, and Macaque has been allowed back into tip-top shape and could Punt the Mayor (since we never do see the Mayor fight SWK while his Lady was still in her box so... free headcanon real estate) so no—Macaque is not letting his hostage go, she is staying right where she is and she can’t do a thing about it) (yet)
11 notes · View notes
mythvoiced · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
He was told it was urgent, that someone was asking for him because they had a very important question to make. Honestly, he thought it was something work-related, or perhaps something related to a recent case, but when he got out of his office and went to the lobby, all he saw was a nuisance.
Eyes roll, hands landing on his hips as a long sigh gets expelled from lips. Not her again. Maybe the new person in charge of reception didn't recognize her, but he's well-aware of her face. He's even heard that Detective Yoon crossed paths with her.
"Yah, what do you want now, huh?" He looks around, his voice rising. "Isn't she in the banned list? Why did you let her in?!" (this is for Sarang from Hyuk, I--IUWEHDIUHASKDHWEUDH I HOPE IT'S OKAY) | @jeoseungsaja​
---
The big bad wolf.
She wouldn’t be all too surprised if someone would lean over one day and confess on his behalf that that’s what he’d like others to see him as.
Not as the villainous nursery rhyme figure the big bad wolf actually is - poor and poorer all the animals humanity keeps demonising, poor and poorer the humans who’ll decay beneath their fangs, a reality she can’t have but wouldn’t be opposed to - but perhaps as imposing, as commanding.
Perhaps leaving the exact same impression anyone he brought behind bars should have of him.
But doesn’t he know that all three of the piglets laughed behind his back the moment he failed at the one thing he thought himself good at doing?
Contrary to the impression she might be giving right now, she truly doesn’t intend humiliating, not by simply ignoring what orders he could have possibly given to others to not let her through, not by shamelessly picking at the few, disappointingly few items present on his desk, all necessities and next to no personality.
Contrary to her presence, her appearance, her morality, grey as the greyest storm-clouds, she doesn’t want him to lose credibility, doesn’t want him to crumble under her sole.
She’s just too fond of that look on his face.
Exactly that one.
A shout later and Sarang is gently laying the corner of the document she’d been lifting back to rest atop the other sheets she most likely shouldn’t be allowed to glance into.
Little pig, little pig, let me in.
She hums beneath the jewel-like smile draping itself gently on her lips like a falling duvet made of feathers upon the softest kind of skin. A few centuries ago, she might have bowed her head and none of this would have been possible.
No, not by the hairs of my chinny chin chin.
She walks around his desk, heels clicking on the station’s floor.
She adores police stations. The most tense people work here. The charming grim reaper of the Violent Crimes Unity is no exception, if anything he’s the best example, the epitome of what exactly Sarang looks for, when her mood fancies her to disturb features perpetually set into frowns.
Presenting himself like a perpetually exhausted soul. Oh, the things he has to deal with, can’t he just be left to his work, can’t he be useful in the seemingly only way he enjoys being useful, exemplar without wanting praise, notorious because he simply is as authentically as he breathes?
With the same aftertaste of whatever past must have made him this way, she muses as she stops short of too far into his personal space, smart enough to not provoke him too fast, arrogant enough to lean in and blow imaginary dust off the front of his shirt.
Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in.
She retreats.
And smiles.
Tumblr media
“Detective Lee, I’m so glad that you’re in today~” then the smile fades, to be replaced by a pout. She’s mastered those, the puckering of her lips, the widening of her eyes, the ditz who doesn’t know how spoiled she is, the child in a grown woman’s body who just wants to be told how pretty she is and not be asked to be witty on top of that.
“What you just said isn’t nice at all, though. I came all the way to this station just for you, you know,” feigned disappointment, an elegant sigh, ah, it truly can’t be helped. Then she leans in again, a hand, manicured, slim, pale in just the right way - ah, beauty standards - held up to shield her mouth from onlookers, as if she’s sharing a secret with him. “I even didn’t tell anyone about our special first encounter~”
He’s such a cute and easily perturbed piglet. All that’s left is figuring out what his house is made of.
12 notes · View notes