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#listen. i know this is not a new realisation by any means but I'm reading beren and luthien
queerofthedagger · 29 days
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if i had a nickle for every time a pair in the middle earth legendarium defied a dark lord, saved each other by song, lost a limb, and got rescued by the eagles, i would have three nickles which isn't a lot but it's funny that two of the most queer-coded relationships get paralleled to tolkien's 'ultimate ideal of a romance' couple like this twice it happened thrice
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 3 months
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David Tennant at This Morning show with Alison Hammond and Dermot O’Leary talking about Good Omens Season 2, 11.07.2023 :) ❤
DO: And David joins us now. I mean, this looks like a great show.
David: Oh, yeah.
DO: So, I mean, It's pure Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, isn't it?
David: It is, yeah.
DO: The whole thing. So tell us, so if people haven't seen the first series and they want to go back, set the whole scene.
David: So I'm Hell's representative on Earth, Michael Sheen is Heaven's representative on Earth, put there to do the biding of our respective Head Offices. But we found out that if we became mates and sort of helped each other out, it kind of cut out the workload, cancelled each other out. So we're best mates. But in Series One we end up having to avert the apocalypse, which we managed to do, but as a result of that, we get cut off. So we're now living on Earth as independent individuals.
AH: So do you still need each other, then?
David: We still need each other. We've only got each other now because we don't have Heaven and Hell anymore.
DO: Because you both love earth so much, you both like.
David: Oh, we much prefer living on Earth because Heaven's a bit stuffy and Hell's awful.
DO: So you conspire to thwart the Armageddon. Exactly.
David: We thwart the Armageddon. That's fine. But Series Two begins when the angel Gabriel, Jon Hamm, who you just saw there, shows up at Aziraphale, Michael Sheen's bookshop, naked with no memory, holding a cardboard box. So suddenly we're locked into the politics of Heaven and Hell again. We don't know what's going on. We've got a mystery to solve. Why is the angel Gabriel here? The angel Gabriel tried to kill us both at the end of the last series, so we've got to...
DO: But now he's kind of got amnesia and...
David: Yes. So he becomes like our weird child, in this sort of weird sort of eternal marriage that Michael and I are locked in.
DO: So many shows now use a book as their base and then they do really well and you can see the company and the writers go, better come up some new ideas, I suppose. So the book's obviously Terry Pratchett and then Neil Gaiman, correct?
David: That's right. They wrote that together years and years and years ago. Much beloved. And that's what the first series was. But Neil and Terry had always talked about possibilities of this sequel that they never got around to making. Terry's no longer with us. But when the possibility came up, Neil thought, well, listen, I've got some ideas. Let's spin it forward. Let's see if we can tell the story we were always going to tell. So we get to come back.
AH: Should we have a little sneak look at the new series? Let's have a look. So good. Did you ever think it was going to be this successful? Did you even know that you were going to go into a second series
David: Oh, no, not at all. No. There was only one novel, so we just thought we were coming together to do that. And I didn't realise how beloved this book was. I first read a script. But it means a lot to a lot of people.
AH: And the look of you is so striking. Did you have any input into that? A bit, yeah, we sort of all found it together, myself and makeup and costume and Neil Gaiman, who ran the show. So, yeah, we kind of arrived... in the book he's a bit more - because obviously the book was sort of early ninetues, so he was a bit more sharp-suited and a bit more Wolf of Wall Street. So we've kind of had to find the kind of modern equivalent of that.
DO: Is he... obviously you're playing a demon. Has he got any humanity in him or is he purely self-centered?
David: Well, he's not a very good demon. He's good at sort of the snarl and the swagger and pretending that he's terribly cynical, but actually his problem is that he's a bit too...  there’s a bit too much heart, really.
DO: He's alright
David: Yeah, yeah.
DO: Must be wonderful playing a baddie.
David: Oh, it's great fun, but he's not a baddie, is not really a baddie.
DO: Yeah, yeah.
David: And just like Aziraphale angel is not always as goody goody as he likes it, so they meet very beautifully in the middle.
DO: You and Michael Sheen. I mean, you've worked together a fair bit, don't you. I loved Staged. That was such fun.
David: Yeah!
AH: Have you ever not worked together?
David: Now we only work together.
AH: All the time.
David: Yeah. I mean, He's not sitting on this sofa, but he is backstage. We can't be apart.
DO: He's speaking in his ear right now.
David: Exactly, yeah.
AH: But you are... you have got a genuine friendship. You're growing old together gracefully.
David: We're growing old together?!
AH: You look good for it, I'm not going to lie. What's the secret, babe?
David: A lot of makeup. It's very thick.
AH: We've got to talk about the fact that you are returning to Doctor Who.
David: Ah, yes.
AH: I can't believe this. And can you tell us anything at all?
David: I mean, beyond that I'm doing it? I think...
AH: No.
David: Really. Because that's the fun of it, isn't it? Hopefully tt was a bit of a surprise when I showed up. When Jodie Whittaker regenerated into me.
AH: We were shocked.
David: It was a bit of a surprise, so we wanted to sort of keep some shocks, but Catherine Tate's back, so it's a bit like 15 years never happened, to be honest.
DO: Know about it for a while. Like... did Russell T get in touch and say...
David: Yeah, it sort of gradually kind of evolved as an idea and we thought maybe they'd let us do a one off for old time's sake. And then suddenly it became a bit more than that and we were back for a bit of a run.
AH: So how many episodes did you get to do?
David: We did three.
AH: Wow. That's incredible. What's it like to be back? Did he just slot straight back in?
David: I mean, sort of. It felt weirdly familiar. Yeah. And you think, 'Oh, will I still able to run as fast? Can I still kind of...?' But it was like we'd never been away. It was joyous. Yeah.
DO: And could we talk about your son? Because is your son in Good Omens with you?
David: Ty's in... has a part in Episode Two of Good Omens.
AH: Is he?
DO: And I loved him in House of the Dragon.
David: I know. He's very good. He's very good.
DO: What a relief.
David: There he is. I know, what a relief. Exactly. No, I mean...
AH: Imagine if he was bad.
David: Imagine if he was rubbish. How would we tell him? Sit down, listen...I know it's sort of the family business, but maybe joinery? So... no, he's really good. And he's annoyingly good looking. You know, he's just got it all. So it's lovely and great to get to work together. Brilliant.
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rongzhi · 15 days
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How would you describe the concept of being gender fluid in mandarin? I've been avoiding coming out to my parents for a while bc I straight up don't know what I'd say - I don't know enough Chinese and idk if they'd be able to understand what I'm trying to communicate if I said it in English. They're both from the Hebei area if that helps at all, and they're not really conservative but they're also not at all caught up on modern terminology so,,, any help would be appreciated 😭
First of all, I want to say that I hope things go well and I’m rooting for you 💖
The term for gender fluid in Chinese, as I’m sure you know, is 流性人 liú xìng rén/流性别者 liú xìng bi�� zhě.
I’m honored that you think highly enough of my input that you asked, so I wanted to give an answer. However, I am not really a good person to ask about coming out to parents because I have not personally done so in any coherent manner myself, even though my parents aren’t conservative, either.
I can say that I think if I was to come out (hopefully I will one day—I just want to be financially stable first, altho... hmm...), I will probably explain it as best I can in English first and then later offer supplementary reading materials in Chinese. In my mind, the best course of action would be to just start off with the facts—say there is something important you want to share with them and that it would mean a lot if they could hear you out first (or however you talk to your parents normally to get them to sit and listen for a bit). “I am [genderfluid], this means I [whatever it means to you personally, as well as what it doesn’t mean/how you came to this realisation, etc].” I think if I was to explain genderfluidity to my parents, I would include what it might appear as in terms of personal outer appearance as well as how it affects your inner life. I would mention why it’s important/significant enough to your identity that you want them to recognise this is how you identify. I think emphasising the euphoric aspects/how being openly genderfluid would make you happy will be more beneficial to you, rather than try and immediately teach the terminology. My parents often say that they want me to be happy so I would try to explain how sharing that part of who I am would make me happy.
Your parents might understand what transgender identity is because it’s talked in the news a lot, so you could try approaching it from that direction, too. If they know of Guanyinshiyin, too, you could approach it from that direction or liken it to a feeling of nothing and all and either/or fluidity in that sense (if that’s a relevant definition). I think my parents would want to know what it means for them going forward as well, so that might be something to talk or establish in your initial explanation, too—pronouns, whether you hope to change your appearance once out to them, etc. I would probably also say something about how you understand what others might think about you but you don't care about that, again, going back to personal euphoria. I personally wouldn't expect them to understand anything right away, but I would communicate that the hope would be that they make an attempt, and that if they have questions at the moment or in the future, I would want to try to answer them.
I hope that helps at all. Maybe other diaspora with experience can offer further advice in the replies/reblogs.
Good luck! 💖💖
Something that might be helpful for later:
伴您同行:专为跨性别儿童的父母准备的指南 - This is a short guide geared towards parents of transgender/nonbinary children, covering questions of "why", "what", when", "what to do", "who to turn to", "where to go" (recommends Oogachaga, SAFE Singapore, The T Project, TransgenderSG, and Asia Pacific Transgender Network; I'm not personally familiar with all of these organisations, but the handbooks itself seems pretty helpful). It includes brief overviews of HRT, as well, if that's something you want to bring up at all.
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sofiareidings · 9 months
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I Told The Stars About You
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Summary: After a tough case that hit too close to home you decide to try and clear your mind by stargazing. When it doesn't work you suddenly hear the coworker you've been crushing on behind you.
A/N: This one-shot is less talking and more just light flirting. I think I'll be writing more flirty stuff in the future but I'm still learning so you'll have to deal with me! Also like I said in my pinned post in taking requests so feel free to send some! You can say a certain situation, a ship, a song to base it off, a trope, whatever! Just make sure to read my immediate no-gos.
Word Count: 0.6k
Song Suggestions: Esa Pared by Leo Dan ft. Vicente Fernãndez
The case had affected everyone. Cases that centre around kids always do, but this one really hit close to home for you. The best way you could think to cope with this was by doing the thing that always puts a smile on your face, even if only for a second.
It was almost pitch black when you parked your car on the vacant street. The only light being from the streetlights and the stars. Walking out into the old baseball field that the street backed up on you found a nice place to sit down. After getting situated you tilted your head up and just stared up at the stars. Looking at all the different shapes you could make. Listening to the sound of trees blowing in the wind and the sound of crickets.
Every time a memory from the case came back you focused on a new star, and a new happy thought. Normally you’d have smiled by now but it wasn’t happening. You couldn’t focus on the stars. The cold of the air became noticeable and the sounds of the crickets were now annoying. You couldn’t make out any shapes in the stars because they were becoming blurry by the tears in your eyes and the shakes in your breath. Everything was coming back and it was like you couldn’t do anything.
“Are you okay?” You jumped, startled by the voice behind you. When you turned your head you looked up to see Spencer standing above you, his hands in his pockets and a scarf wrapped around his neck and falling over his shoulder. You start to nod and wipe your face trying to calm yourself down before talking.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Your words came out in one breath. You tried to stand up but Spencer sat down before you could. He sat there just looking down at the grass like he didn’t know what to say. “How’d you find me?”
“You seemed off on the jet and when you drove a different way I got concerned. I guess I followed you here but that sounds like I’m a stalker.” He laughed a little at the end then looked up from the grass and at you. You weren’t fine, it was obvious. “It doesn’t take a profiler to realise that you are clearly upset.”
“The case, it just hit close to home. I don’t want to talk about it.” The sentence came out a little blunt, almost angry. He seemed taken aback a little but he knew you didn’t mean any harm. “I just…want to look at the stars.”
“We can do that then.” He nodded then leaned back on his arms and looked up. You did the same but couldn’t help but look over at him as well. His scarf had become undone when he sat down and his hair fell backwards. You took the moment of comfort and layed down on the grass, Spencer doing the same.
Instead of rejecting the advance, he looked away then squeezed your hand and didn’t comment. The heat in your face mixed with the butterflies made it happen…the stars had finally made you smile. They just needed a little help this time.
The two of you just layed there for a long time. Looking at the stars and enjoying each other's company. You turned your head to see Spencer still looking at the stars and when you moved your eye contact down his hand was laying less than an inch away from yours. In a moment of bravery you moved yours and put it in his while quickly looking back at the stars. You could feel him looking at you, clearly having noticed the gesture.
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polarisjisung · 3 months
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cherry flavoured
19 — ALWAYS 2ND BEST
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SYNOPSIS: y/n, the campuses notorious heartbreaker, had never been one to settle down, running from the word commitment since the concept had first been introduced to her, but one smile and a little cherry coke seems to do just the trick when she runs into captain of the dance team, park jisung
PAIRING: dancer!jisung x fem!reader
WARNINGS: swearing (like crazy amounts in this chapter I never even realised), manipulation, threats and gaslighting, just a lot of hateful words in general
NOTE: WRITTEN CUT AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER! + you'll be happy to know the next few chaps won't have any written parts !!
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Lee jeno was a friend and a half, he was there when things got tough, the kind of friend those cheesy Pinterest quotes you read at 3am would remind you of, he was the person who'd give his all if it meant he'd recieve just a smile in return, the friend who'd go the extra mile, he was good and he came with the promise of all things good
yet he didn't feel like much of a good friend today
It's not every day your best friend since you were in diapers ignores you for weeks on end, doesn't make an effort to approach you but makes a conscious one to bolt in the opposite direction at any sight of you. Jeno, quite simply was confused.
He was a simple man, with one goal, he wanted to get to the bottom of whatever it was that had y/n staring at him with that glint of insecurity mixed with heartbreak in her eyes at every sight of each other in the hallways. Because he didn't have a clue.
He hadn't quite figured out how he'd do it just yet, the recent news of his best friend and his other best friend leaving him conflicted— had she been avoiding him because she'd broken her promise? Y/n of all people should've known that ultimately jeno could care very little about that. Especially if it meant she'd be ignoring him. Some silly promise he made as a way of protecting his emotions would never mean more than their friendship.
He hadn't confronted, if that was even the right word, jisung about the two of them yet either, whether they were dating or just seeing each other casually, he wasn't sure at all, but by the way jisung hadn't come home yet, jeno knew that the younger boy was avoiding him.
He didn't think he could take that, two of his favourite people ignoring his existence over something so trivial.
All jeno had ever really wanted was to make sure they didn't get hurt, and especially not by each other, he just wanted what was best for them, ultimately he knew his little dating ban didn't mean much verbatim, sure his friends were respectful of his wishes for the most part, but jeno wasn't an idiot. He knew that he didn't have the right to tell his friends who they could or couldn't see, casually or on a more serious note, and even if it was a little odd, at the end of the day, he just hoped they'd be happy. Whether that was haechan and yeonhee or jisung and y/n.
Besides, Jisung would return to the dorm eventually, jeno knew, and he had no intention but to clear things up with his younger friend too.
So when there's a knock at the door, he's certain it's just the dancer who had probably forgotten his keys to the apartment again— instead he's met with a teary eyed red head who doesn't seem to be able to get any words out, only rushing head first into his chest, wrapping two arms around his torso in a hug
"I'm so sorry"
Jeno's thankful that rationality had always been his strong suit, pulling the shivering girl inside and placing a warm blanket over her.
The mug of hot tea rests in her hands as jeno takes a seat next to her, though neither of them could deny the distance between them seemed to have grown as jeno was sat a little further than usual.
"take your time, I'm listening"
y/n wanted to speak, but she couldn't find the words, her throat dry upon seeing him again— despite knowing it wasn't jeno who had said all those things, somehow every word that had struck so deep and hit the most broken parts of her soul seemed to come back at the sight of him
and y/n wanted to speak, she needed to but quite frankly she was too ashamed to admit that she had believed that jeno would ever think those things, let alone say them, instead she reaches for her phone, open to their conversation over the past 3 weeks, placing it in his palm
"this isn't me cherry, you know that right, my phone was stolen weeks ago?" she nods, and jeno knows her well enough to understand that whatever this was, was a lot deeper than it had initially seemed
"its yeri, she" tears begin to well in her eyes and y/n swears she won't cry, gulping harshly and taking in a deep breath "fuck jen, I don't even know where to start"
despite the overwhelming amount of thoughts in her mind, one sticks out like a sore thumb, and that's to not mention anything regarding jeno liking her. As a firm believer in everything having a time and a place, she was certain that was a conversation for later. Things were messy as they were, she knew better than to add to that solely to feed her curiosity.
"I'm just so fucking sorry for thinking you'd ever say any of that or for not coming to you sooner to talk about it" jeno nods, half understanding, though he can't deny feeling a little let down by her quickness to believe in those messages.
"I get it" he nods, "I can't lie I'm hurt, you know, that you ever thought I would do that, but I know where you're coming from too" he takes a deep breath, because despite everything that had seemed to be running through the mind in front of him, jeno couldn't deny that he was hurt too.
"and the whole jisung thing, it's a little strange, because more than the fact that we had that promise, I thought you told me everything, the both of you, or at least something big like this, so it kind of hurts to find out the way i did"
She nods. She knew she could plead innocent all she liked, but ever since finding out jaemin and jisung were so close, she'd always had a hunch— the fear of disappointing jeno by going against his words, for whatever reason he had said them, had always stopped her from confirming it.
That's exactly what jeno hears from her.
There's a lingering disappointment in the air, all jeno needed from her was honesty, and all y/n had hoped for was some communication, because neither of them had tried to reach out these past few weeks, and quite simply, it sucked.
But that was the thing about jeno and y/n, they were strong, being there for each other was second nature and moving on past these matters, despite taking a little time, was something they always managed.
That's how they find themselves filling the living room with laughter over shared memories, and catching up over everything that had hapenned recently.
Jeno was like a rock for y/n, her only constant in life, and some part of her felt guilty, still hiding so much from him
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TAGLIST (open): @jenobubbles @justalildumpling @jising-jisang-jisung @nanawrlds @222brainrot @chichiuu @dinonuguaegi @ishireads @yyy90210 @hibernatinghamster @stqrrian @makiswrld @everywonuu @marizhua @luumiinaa @asteriaskingdom @jeongintwt @90s-belladonna @000rpheus @jammingjaem @yayloona @neozon3nha @mfaal @conwunder @toroufriteh @i6renj @https-dandelion @kikookii @delulu4-life @hancafe @produmads @tamcitrus @yv72s @funkygoose @buns-inhiding @odxrilove @n-jules @pinknjm @chickenscoups @h-aecat @sikuthealien
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hotteoki · 9 months
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pirate king (j.y.h)
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pairing: pirate jeong yunho x fem reader
genre: strangers to lovers, alternate dimension, pirate au
wc: 4k
cw: mild language, weaponry
notes: i wrote this with the layout of the ateez ship in mind (the one in the 'illusion' mv but with blond yunho cause he 4+4 the halloween ver of deja vu
xtra - tysm @woosluv & @ssaboala for beta reading for me! <33
"all eyes on me now! if you still doubt mine, it's too pointless. we're still young and wild, we gonna find new world to be mine!" yunho's fingers moved along the quote carved into the compass he's had since who knows how long.
yunho's head was lifted up forcefully by hongjoong's pointing stick poking his forehead. "you're going to get lost later on the island if you don't listen to me right now," hongjoong tilted his head, stepping back to the blackboard. "captain, i mean this in the nicest way possible, we've been over this, like, six times in the span of a week. we'll be fine," yeosang called from across the room as he tapped his telescope against his other palm, still dodging wooyoung's outstretched arms every now and then.
"you all say this but i know one of you is going to get into some shit and i'm going to have to be the one to clean it up," hongjoong sighed, dropping his pointer onto the ground lazily, "okay, come on, let's get off the ship. remember the plan, and wooyoung, stop trying to kiss yeosang's face. you can do that when we come back."
yunho kicked the ladder down onto the dock, stepping off the ship first. the crew split up, him going into the left path trailing into the cave. they all knew exactly what they were looking for, and the lengths each and every one of them were willing to take to get it.
it was peaceful until a rustle attracted his attention. yunho paused, pretending to re-lace his shoes, his eyes darting to his left, the direction where the sound had come from. when it was calm for the following minute, yunho slowly stood to continue his journey, putting on an oblivious façade, his hand subtly inching for his sheathed cutlass with every step.
yunho wasn't stupid. he's had enough experience to know not to doubt his senses at any cost. true to him, the snapping of a branch immediately heightened his senses. he swiftly cut through the thick, tall grass, eyes meeting with ones belonging to an innocent doe.
as the doe ran off, yunho only noted then how it was running along the path he was on. the cogs in his head whirred in confusion as he wondered why a deer wouldn't run away from a potential predator, rather in the same direction as him. that thought never escaped as he trudged on, praying the cave he was walking towards would appear before him faster.
and lo and behold, there it was.
if yunho hadn't been looking for it specifically he would've missed it entirely. it blended in perfectly with the shadows of the swaying trees, outgrown weeds guarding the entrance, vines crawling around, all leading straight into the depths of the cave.
peeking into the darkness, he checked every corner, sharp eyes darting here and there. finally, they landed on an unusual glimmering spot. yunho stepped closer, cautious of the fact he was now exposed to any potential predators hiding deep in the cave.
he was about a meter away from the shining rock when he realised it wasn’t a rock at all. it was an hourglass etched into the cave walls, almost like the cave was built around it over the years. he breathed out a light sigh of relief upon feeling the grooves of the rock nearby. it wasn’t etched in that deep. he could easily pull it out with a bit of help.
he allowed himself a few more minutes of admiring the hourglass. the cromer, its name was. an hourglass with the ability to lead them to an alternate dimension, where they could escape this timeline that caused each and every one of them so much pain and loss.
after stealing books from other pirates, following leads from old legends, tracking down their ancestors' footsteps, seonghwa had finally found a map hidden deep in the journals of an unknown pirate, their initials and writings long faded within the centuries. the joy the crew had felt when they located the hourglass after years was a night yunho could not forget.
just as he was about to turn back and find his crewmates, yunho was greeted with the sight of the very doe blocking his exit. when it was made clear that the doe had no intentions of moving at all, yunho unsheathed his cutlass. this was no ordinary animal.
his theory was proved right when a gust of wind blew against his face. removing his hand from his face and opening his eyes, he tried to conceal his shock. where the doe had stood before was a girl about his age.
“you’re a shapeshifter.” you raised your eyebrows at his statement, “obviously.” “i thought they didn’t exist anymore after hunters hunted them down ages ago,” yunho still had his cutlass held in front of him, wary of this new stranger. “yeah, i know. that was centuries ago. there’re still a few of us left, but most of us don’t want to be found.” “you’re not one of them, though,” yunho pointed out.
“and with good reason,” you stepped closer as yunho stepped back. sighing, you held up your hands in surrender, “do i look like i’m going to attack you or something?” “you can never be too careful,” he shrugged.
“i’ll tell you an easier way of getting that hourglass without taking this cave down.” yunho’s arm faltered, “what do you mean?” “this entire island relies on the life within the roots, the air, the animals, you know, all that shit. you break this cave the entire island goes down with it. you and your crew would never make it out alive.”
he swallowed. he wasn’t sure if you could be trusted. shapeshifters were known to be tricksters, always up to no good. what if you were playing with him and he could’ve saved precious time taking the hourglass instead of talking to you? after meeting your impatient eyes, he finally decided to play it safe.
“what do you want in return?” “get me off this island,” you replied instantly. the lack of hesitation in your voice made yunho believe you’ve had thought about this for a long, long time. he sucked in a breath through his gritted teeth. the crew couldn’t just find an extra person for charity. they were already rationing their supplies amongst themselves, adding another person might as well be a goodbye to their albeit uncomfortable but familiar living.
“take me with you or no hourglass. your choice,” you crossed your arms, tone firm. yunho swallowed again, putting his cutlass away and rubbing a hand on his face, “you’ll have to talk to the captain.” “fine, then take me to him.” “you can’t just-” yunho wanted to scream. despite being a pirate since birth, he’d never experienced a situation like this, and he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do.
“you know what? fine, let’s go find him,” yunho pursed his lips. he knew for a fact hongjoong would never agree, but how else were they supposed to get the hourglass? it wasn’t like they could just bow their heads and march back onto the ship and off.
reminding himself of the crudely drawn map in their meeting room, yunho walked for what felt like hours with the intensity of your glare burning the back of his head. he thought he could drop onto his knees and thank the heavens the second he saw the familiar back of hongjoong.
hongjoong darted up at the sound of foreign footsteps, swinging his pistol at your face out of instinct. “she wants to speak to you,” yunho deadpanned, annoyed at the situation he was currently in. hongjoong lowered his pistol slightly, aiming at your chest now, “what do you want?” “i’ll talk when you get this pistol out of my face,” you frowned.
“i’m the one with the upper hand here, you really shouldn’t be making demands.” “considering i’m one of the remaining residents of this island who knows what you’re looking for and how to get it without dying, i don’t think you are.” hongjoong made a face, “and how do i know you’re telling the truth?” “you pirates. always so nervous about everything you see,” you paused, “i want to get off this island, you can help with that, and in return i’ll give you the hourglass.”
yunho looked for a reaction from hongjoong. when he was met with none, yunho was almost disappointed over the fact that his captain was considering his answer. “okay then,” hongjoong put his pistol away, “lead the way.” yunho felt his cheeks flushing at your cheeky smile. sure, he disliked you and your cocky attitude, but he wasn’t blind. anyone could tell you were gorgeous.
“i told you guys one of you was going to get into some shit. now look who’s cleaning it up?”
≡☆
it took a while for the entire crew to be gathered in the tiny cave the cromer rested in, all squished together to get a look at the hourglass while poor mingi stood on his tiptoes at the mouth of the cave. yunho watched in awe as you lifted your hands up, determined to keep his eyes open, only to be slapped with another aggressive gust of wind blowing in his face again.
he blinked cautiously, not realising his eyes had shut involuntarily. yunho vaguely felt his breath hitching at the infamous hourglass held in your hands. the gentle glow of each individual grain amongst the heaps of sand shimmered, tugging on his attention, while contrasting with the simple and plain metal supporting the phials.
“so?” you shifted your weight, waiting for something to happen.
and something happened indeed.
one look from hongjoong was all the crew needed as san shoved you to the ground, with seonghwa snatching the cromer from your grip and tossing it to jongho, the rest sprinting back to their ship. yunho followed his crewmates swiftly, but not before throwing his head back and yelling a quick “sorry!”
in his defense, he was sorry. just not sorry enough to feel guilty about it.
he nearly crashed straight into wooyoung’s back as he skidded to a sudden halt, confused as to why they stopped. sitting on the edge of the ship, legs swinging with an unamused expression, was you. but how…
“you really think you can outrun a doe? how self-centered.” hongjoong stared right back at you, irritated, “you can’t come with us.” “then i’ll take that back.” “i’d like to see you try,” he retorted, pistol now in hand again, “you can outrun me but can you outrun a bullet aiming straight for your head?” you huffed, “i’m not asking you to adopt me or anything, i just need you to drop me off at the nearest island.”
“bullshit. you’re saying you want to go from one island to another?” jongho scoffed from beside wooyoung. “i can’t leave this place without company. please just-” you sighed, and yunho could tell you felt defeated, “please just take me with you.” if he didn’t feel guilty enough, he definitely felt bad now. “cap, maybe we should take her.”
hongjoong gave him an odd look, clearly bewildered, “you were the one who insisted on leaving her.” “yeah well, i kinda feel bad for her now. she’ll stay with us for a few days maximum then we’ll just drop her off somewhere,” yunho briefly glanced at you, lowering his voice now, “i mean, maybe she really can’t leave. what, are we just going to dump her here?”
“i say we make her a deal,” yeosang chimed in, “she can live with us until we locate a nearby island, but if we arrive and it ends up being a bad one, she can’t argue and climb back aboard.” hongjoong nodded approvingly, “yeah, that sounds good.”
yunho watched as your face lit up when he repeated their deal to you. he silently swore to himself to always bring happiness to you during your stay if it meant he could catch a glimpse of your endearing smile again.
≡☆
yunho had volunteered to wrap up the cut on your arm you earned from san’s shove, despite seonghwa usually being the one to tend to the crew’s injuries. he led you down the stairs and to the medical room (which, really, was just their meeting room with a medical kit placed on the table), kicking away scraps of used bandages to the corner, praying you didn’t see them.
as he sat you down opposite him and began prepping the bandages, he began to wonder about you. where were your parents? how did you manage to come onto the island? why did you not have friends? what-
“you look like you have questions.” his gaze snapped up from your arm to your eyes, “no i- well, yeah, kind of.” you laughed lightly, “it’s okay, i get it. i’d be confused too.” yunho hoped you took the redness tainting his cheeks as embarrassment from being caught rather than his giddiness from your laugh. he motioned for you as he got started on wrapping your arm.
“i used to live on a different island, where my parents were. i met this guy, chan, and after being friends with him for a year or so, he offered to take me on a trip with his seven friends. i agreed. i honestly don’t know why i did. it was a spur of the moment thing. i followed him to the docks, where his ship was. turns out he’s a pirate and he’s the captain, much like your crew, actually.
“they said they wanted to go find some ‘treasures’, i just assumed they were joking around. they said they wanted to find an hourglass, i think one of the crew, hyunbin or whatever, said it belonged to his father. i remembered having heard some legends about it, and offered to lead the way. we searched for months, and finally found it on this island.
“when we arrived, they began arguing over who got to have it; they all had a different timeline in mind. someone wanted to go find their dead parents, someone wanted to rescue their girlfriend, it was- it was a lot,” you closed your eyes, throwing your head back, “we weren’t even from this timeline, for fuck’s sake! they fucked with the cromer as soon as they got their grubby hands on it, knowing damn well it was a full moon! i don’t even know what happened, to be honest, either that, or i can’t remember. it doesn’t matter. i don’t want to anyway.
“i think it’s something to do with the stupid hourglass. my theory is it passes down ownership to whomever it deems worthy to hold it, eliminating the past owners. that’s how i ended up alone. i tell myself they each left one by one, but it still bothers me how cursed magic like that exists. i don’t know, the whole thing’s really messed up. i guess being the holder gives you power to hide or expose it to others, because, well, as you saw, i could play around with its surroundings.” yunho hummed, taking in all the information.
he tightened the knot on your bandage, breathing out through his nose and rocking on his chair, “well, now that i know a lot about you, ask me anything you want.” “anything?” you lifted your head up again, eyes wide. yunho smiled, “yeah.” you leaned forward, head resting against your palms, “how are you so cute?”
yunho began spluttering, rocking a bit too far back on his chair, nearly falling over until you grabbed his hand, laughing at his reaction. as soon as he steadied himself, he yanked his hand away, feeling like his entire skin was on fire. you had a proud grin on your face, “i’m playing with you. though, really, you are cute.” he was genuinely convinced right then and there that you were the human form of heaven itself with the way his heart was palpitating.
the only dilemma yunho was having with himself was the fact that you couldn’t stay with them.
he liked to think that you shared the same thought as him.
≡☆
somehow, hours later, yunho found himself next to you on the beach, admiring the sunset from afar. “i haven’t had company in ages,” you commented, “it’s nice. especially since it’s you.” yunho had really wanted to kick his feet and giggle over your bold words, but he opted for a light chuckle.
“do you ever miss your old timeline? or dimension, or however you say it,” he regretted his words instantly at the sad look on your face. “all the time. i had a boyfriend, you know? he tried to stop me from going. i ignored him out of spite because of the amount of arguments we got into before i left. they were mostly to do with chan, he never trusted him, and neither should i have.”
yunho ignored the new, strange sense of jealousy he was feeling, and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, “you wouldn’t have known.” you only gave a weak smile in response. “so tell me about your boyfriend.” you stiffened up slightly before relaxing again. if yunho wasn’t staring at you, he would’ve missed it entirely.
“well, he was the sweetest guy i’ve ever met. people compared him to a puppy all the time because of his energy,” you hesitated, “he had dyed blond-ish hair, a cute smile, a great sense of humour. he was tall, and was really popular. he always knew just how to cheer me up when i was down. he was considerate, caring, kind, he was everything.” yunho felt himself slowly getting upset. how could he ever compare to him? he sounded perfect.
“jealous?” you teased, nudging him. “not at all,” yunho rolled his eyes, playing with his compass again. he watched your eyes lower onto the very object, a soft look in them. “of course you still have it,” you murmured. “what?” yunho furrowed his brows. had he heard correctly? “it’s nothing.”
≡☆
nighttime rolled around and eventually all of them gathered around; yunho had found himself subconsciously scooting closer to you, landing himself a knowing look from mingi.
while your eyes connected with the flames yeosang started minutes ago, yunho couldn’t help but admire every inch of your carefully sculpted face. it was funny, wasn’t it? how he, at first, hated your overconfident demeanour, your demanding character, your addictive voice, your adorable laugh… huh. maybe he’d never hated you.
“so are you guys going to hide it now that you have to wait to use it?” you tilted your head curiously, and yunho wanted to choke a fistful of sand down his throat to contain the squeals that were threatening to bubble up with how absolutely beautiful you were. he shrugged, “most likely.” “the full moon’s in three days. where would you hiding it for three days?” “up san’s ass,” wooyoung laughed, before getting smacked by san.
yunho couldn’t bring himself to laugh at wooyoung’s immature joke. not when he now knew that he never had a chance with you to begin with.
but hearing your contagious laughter made him think of how lucky he was to have met you at all.
≡☆
“i know you, yunho, and i know you like her-” “like is an exaggeration.” seonghwa rolled his eyes, “just listen to me. she’s not going to be staying with us for long, and if you keep giving yourself a chance to get to know her, you’ll end up getting heartbroken.” “but isn’t that the point? maybe, when we use the cromer and get to a different dimension, maybe we can be together there…” he trailed off at how ridiculous he sounded. “that’s not how it works, and you know it,” seonghwa’s tone was now stern, almost to the point of telling yunho off.
“she clearly likes me too, can’t we at least enjoy the little amount of time we have together?” mingi tossed an arm around yunho from behind, “i say go for it.” “of course you’d say that,” seonghwa tsked, before continuing, “i’m asking you, as part of your crew, and your friend, to think this through.” “i am thinking this through!” yunho insisted, “i’d rather go through a heavy heartbreak than leave her with a bunch of ‘what if’s. i really do like her, seong-”
“no, you’re thinking this with your plan of finding her in a different timeline. yunho, you can’t do that. do you know how risky that is? ignoring the fact how we’ve only known her for a day too!” “of course i know,” he hissed, “but i don’t care how risky it is. i’m doing it.” “love at first sight, some might say,” mingi patted yunho’s shoulder. “oh, don’t get him started on love now,” seonghwa groaned. “love is a stretch, but i definitely find her interesting enough to want to be with her.” “just say you like her, yunho. everyone and their mothers can hear your giggles at night in your room,” hongjoong teased.
yunho’s face flushed, “i don’t giggle!” with that, he left the tiny crowd and stormed off to the meeting room. to his surprise, you were sitting at his regular seat, examining his compass. he left it there?
“so you want to be with me?” you raised an eyebrow, running a thumb over the quote the same way yunho does. “what- no?” yunho scoffed, taking a seat beside you. “i heard you guys. you get loud when you’re defensive. it’s okay, it’s cute.” yunho was at a loss for words. grasping for straws to change the topic, he gestured to the compass, “why did you say something like ‘i still have it’?”
you grew silent, and yunho thought you hadn’t heard him. he was about to repeat his question when you opened your mouth to answer, “i knew you, jeong yunho.” he flinched at the full name coming out of your mouth, “how…” “in my timeline. i knew you.”
you had the same stiff posture as you did on the beach, and yunho recalled what you were talking about during that time, “your boyfriend…” “yeah.” suddenly it all made sense. the dyed blond hair, the puppy personality, tall… yunho had heard every single one of them.
“we were together?” his voice was barely above a whisper. you nodded sadly, a bittersweet smile plastered, “i never got to say sorry for not believing you.” “well, at least i got an apology now,” he wrapped his hand around yours, the compass in between your interlocked fingers, and the cromer, your chance of a new happily ever after, placed on the table just centimetres away.
networks - @kflixnet k-labels kbookshelf neverendingdreams-net straykidsland @k-films
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bisexualhomelander · 13 days
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Tumblr user bisexualhomelander bringing you what it says on the tin.
Domestic May Prompt: Somebody is being wrong (?) on the internet. Pairing: Butchlander
"They're wrong."
"Mhm. Or how about you turn that thing off?"
"No, but they're wrong! This is... preposterous! William, look at it!" The phone is being shoved into his face, too close to read anything, making Billy go cross-eyed.
"I can't look if you shove it down my throat."
Homelander acquiesces and holds the phone at an acceptable distance. Billy blinks and begins to read. Homelander has dragged up a post on supespace.net, an unofficial platform for fans of Vought's heroes and heroines. Billy has used it himself in the past, not to make posts but to gather intel. The fans of these cunts, however misguided they may be, have a keen eye and can analyse paparazzi shots better than any CIA agent.
The post in question is titled Homelander is bi and was posted by a user named bbygirllander. Billy only reads the first few lines: This sounds weird, but hear me out, we stan a bi king. He skims the rest before landing on the top comment: He is literally a Nazi. Billy barks a laugh. "Okay, what's so bad about this?"
"Do you see this shit?"
"Nothing on there is news, luv."
"Not you, too!"
"You seem more upset about the bi thing than you were about that Nazi comment up here."
"That's old news. They've been saying this ever since-" He trails off. Billy will never understand how he can be genuinely grieving Stormfront. Surely he doesn't believe their love was ever real. If yes, the bleach must have gone to his Aryan little head. But Billy sees no use in upsetting him further, so he listens and keeps his thoughts to himself. "But I'm not bisexual. I'm not any of... that. This has the power to destroy me. The tabloids will pick it up. It's been the top post for..." He scrolls up. "For two days. There have been ten hero announcements from Godolkin since then, and they haven't even scratched most viewed."
"Okay." Billy tries to think of what to say. He feels a pang of sympathy. He'd been twenty once, nearly drinking himself into a coma when he'd realised he liked dick. And he'd just been a kid from the wrong side of the Thames that nobody gave a damn about. Not a mega star. "If anyone talks about it, just make a statement telling them they're being wrong on the internet."
Homelander's mind was seemingly a few steps ahead. "I need to make an account. And deter them. I need to make ten accounts. I need to post this on Voughtstagram with a bunch of cry-laughing emojis, laughing about how stupid they are being on the internet. I need to get ahead of this. I need to get ahead of this..."
Billy interrupts him before he can talk himself into a manic episode. "D'you want me to read you some of them comments?"
Homelander looks on morosely, but at least he's stopped talking. "No."
Billy reads. "It's not anyone's business. Just because you watch his films doesn't mean you own him. Here's another good one, Good for him if it's true, but we can't take it as fact. If he doesn't want to come out, he must have his reasons. Oh, I like this one. It's in response to someone stating you've only been with women. I didn't realise I was bi until I was in my sixties. There's no timeline. Maybe Vought doesn't want him to go public about it, I mean, they are kind of conservative, and his fans consist of rabid right-wingers. See, the people are all on your side."
Homelander blinks. "I don't want a public coming-out."
"I'm sure Maeve said the same before you outed her live on TV."
"That was different. She had a girlfriend."
Billy heaves a sigh.
"If I address the rumours, it means we will have to stay on the down-low," Homelander says. "You'll have to continue sneaking in through the staff entrance if you want to see me or Ryan. We'll have to be more careful about anyone seeing us because evidently it's happened."
"I'd be gone faster than you know what hit ya if you ever were to go public with us. You know that."
"What if Ryan sees this?"
"What if-? Ryan, who knows I practically live here three days a week, who sees your toothbrush next to mine in the bathroom? That Ryan? Luv, he ain't a toddler you can fool by telling him your good buddy Billy is having a slumber party with ya. He's twelve. He knows we're fuckin'."
Homelander just gives him a look and shrugs, suddenly silent. Billy knows that look, the wide eyes and helplessly tensed lips. Homelander is close to tears. "That's all well and good. But I'm not bi."
"Fine by me," Billy says and means it. "The people are right, it's not anyone's business. Not even mine. You don't have to call it that."
"So you agree with me."
Billy cocks his head.
"They're wrong on the internet."
Billy picks up Homelander's phone. He mindlessly scrolls through some more posts. "Oh, lovely. Homelander is a natural blonde, y'all are being mean. Now that's what I call wrong on the internet. Wait. Wait. Have you guys been timing the breaks he takes on-stage? I have a theory they're bathroom breaks because he has to pee more because his prostate is getting bigger-"
The shattering glass makes Billy realise the phone has gone out the window before he even understands it's no longer in his grip. A pair of lips is seeking his own in a way that would leave the fans bug-eyed.
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mvrtaiswriting · 1 year
Note
Hi there! May I please request some headcanons of Zoro and what he looks for in a s/o, as well as any fluffy romantic headcanons of him with his s/o, please? Thank you so much for your time! Take it easy.
Love potion - how to win Zoro's heart.
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Hi! Thank you so much for trusting me with your request! I enjoyed writing this, Zoro has a special place in my heart. I hope this meets your expectations, my writing is a bit rusty at the moment due to all the uni work i'm doing and this is just what i needed to get back on track! I hope it makes you smile :) x
warnings: none! super fluff. gn! reader.
feel free to reblog, like, and leave a comment. i would very much appreciate it. if you enjoy my works, click here to read more or buy me a coffee.
Curiosity starts tickling his brain when he notices his usual intimidating demeanour doesn't work on you; if anything, you find it funny. He notices how you laugh when you catch him and Sanji bickering, even if he is threatening to slice the poor love cook into julienne strips. And he likes it more than he would ever admit.
The key to Zoro's feelings lie within his struggles. The main way to gain Zoro's respect is by being a fighter - and sometimes, this just means beating him at his own game, defeating his small god complex. This can often involve sarcastic remarks in response to his venomous teasing, showing him you can fight well enough to knock him down during a training session. Zoro always recognises the abilities of his opponents - so once you tame his ego and demonstrate that you are just as formidable as he is, he will gladly welcome you into his heart (secretly).
Zoro falls in love when he realises you aren't too different from him. There is a sense of familiarity to you that mesmerises Zoro every time. He wasn't sure why - he didn't know if it was his influence or just some innate traits you had. A calming sensation washes all over him whenever he notices that your movements effortlessly mirror his. It makes him feel understood.
Everyone can tell that the swordsman is in love when he enjoys your company during moments he usually prefers to spend alone. He shares his silence with you, a solemn confession of what he truly feels. You're the only one who he allows close to him.
Once in an established relationship, it takes a while for Zoro to fully adjust to it. At first, he feels like nothing has changed, really - he feels just as jealous, just as protective. The butterflies haven't left his stomach since the first time he saw you smile - they're still flying around, batting their wings together and making him visibly blush.
Zoro is not really fond of PDA - that doesn't mean he isn't affectionate, he just prefers to keep it private, discrete. When you're walking around, exploring a new island, he doesn't mind holding your hand - although, most of the time, he only intertwines his pinky with yours, nothing more. However, he likes it when you sit on his lap; so much, it's something you can't escape. As soon as you reach the dining table, his hands are quick to wrap around your waist, slowly guiding your body and eventually making you fall onto his lap. It makes food much more enjoyable this way - even sake tastes better, according to him.
Zoro is a great listener, and he has a peculiar attention to detail. He remembers everything you told him, from the silliest childhood story to the most meaningful thought you shared with him - he treasures your memories so dearly, he almost carves them into his mind. Because of that, he showers you with gifts on a regular basis. Whether it's a piece of clothing or a diamond, if you made a comment about it, he will get it for you and casually leave it on your bedside table, nicely wrapped. He doesn't make a big deal out of it, he just loves the look on your face when he manages to surprise you. There's nothing Zoro wouldn't do to make you happy.
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samcvrpenters · 9 months
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again me! hi!!
so i'm in a kind of obsession with RE now, especially with RE woman. i mean...omg, just look on them! (sorry, closer to the topic) so what about RE woman love language hcs? you can pick the girls from your request list or pick only one of them. i actually don't mind, i will be happy to read anything from you! ^^
hello! yes of course. i picked only a few re women from my list as they’re my favourites. i also agree lol, they’re so fine.
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&&.  ada wong,
ada’s love language would be gift giving. working as an agent in various fields prevents her from being able to spend as much time as she would like to with you, as she is often out finding something or she is trying to assassinate somebody for someone else. she would want to keep you out of danger as much as possible, so she would be unable to stay close to you as that would create a lot of attention and possibly put you under the eye of an assassin. because she does so many missions and earns quite a bit of money from it, she uses this for you. she knows that you miss her. she knows that you would prefer for her to whisper loving things into your ear in between kisses in the small crooks of your neck. she knows all of that. but she can’t do better than what she is currently doing for you. she would buy you anything she would hear you talk about, whether it was a watch you liked, whether it was a piece of jewellery, whether it was a new dress; it didn’t matter to her. she just wanted you to be happy with what she could give you. 
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&&.  claire redfield,
claire’s love language would be quality time. she would always try her best to be with you, that much was obvious. she would constantly talk of a date with you with her brother, who would only chuckle and smile as the words of how beautiful you were rolled off her tongue. she would talk of you so long to him that she would realise she had gone past the time she was meant to be meeting you at, quickly picking up any personal belongings and stuffing them into the bag she carried, rushing to where the date was. when she got there, she would be an apologetic mess, your ears hearing so many apologies that your head would explode if you heard anymore. you convinced her that it was okay, and the two of you went out on a movie date. you would rest your head on her shoulder as the movie played, your eyes glued to the screen. but claire wouldn’t be bothered about the film that was being projected; instead, she would be focused on you. every small detail of your side view, telling herself she was so lucky to have somebody like you. she would keep you out a little longer after the movie, taking a small walk with you to an ice cream truck and ordering the same cone as you. she would try and be with you for long as possible before you had to leave.  
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&&.  ashley graham,
ashley’s love language would be words of affection. this girl is so caring that you wouldn’t hear the end of it. her blonde hair moving to the side as she listed off the things she loved about you, before ending with a statement saying she loved everything about you, and if she said all of them in tiny detail, you would be there all day listening to her. you appreciate the comments she gives you, but one day, you tell her to stop rambling so much since you didn’t believe she meant half of it. boy, you were in for a ride. she spent the next hour almost correcting you on what you said about yourself whilst her arm tightened around your waist. she had listed off every detail about it, and you felt so loved about what she said. she reminds you every day how much she loves you and what loss she would be if she didn’t have you with her. you two would go out the next day, and she would definitely take you shopping, complimenting anything you try on with a small smile on her face.
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&&.  jill valentine,
jill’s love language would be acts of service. whether it would be carrying something extremely light for you, or something extremely heavy that she even struggled carrying, she would do it. she would go out of her way to make you a cup of coffee or tea, or even a different type of drink if you didn’t want either. she would bring you things whilst you were sitting down, even if you were just being lazy and couldn’t be bothered to grab anything. the same would happen if you were sick or injured, but she would be a little more happier about it. she would find it her duty, as both your girlfriend and a former stars officer, to do little things for you that could help your day go by a lot smoother than it possibly could. and she does. she makes it so much easier for you that you’re so grateful for her being your girlfriend. but who wouldn’t be grateful if she was anyone’s partner? she’s so kind and so sweet to you, and she will defend you against anybody who makes you feel uncomfortable or anything. you want to do something in return for her for doing so many things, but she always refuses your help and never lets you do anything else apart from sit there and watch as she brings you what you need. 
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sparklingsin · 2 years
Text
— five ways to say i love you | steve harrington
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+ steve harrington x fem!reader
tags: fluff, banter, steve being steve, some angst, some gore - like in the show, s4 canon adjacent
a/n: no summary since this is pretty self-explanatory. hope you have a good read! feedback is appreciated!
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one.
The Wheeler basement is warm, separated from the world, the Upside-Down, the lab. Shielded from trouble. A distraction from whatever danger lies ahead. The kids are sitting around a table with Eddie, who is making a face at them — they're engrossed in what seems to be quite a stressful game of DnD. You don't try to pretend that you understand it.
Nancy is half-asleep on Robin's shoulder who is reading the latest "Teen Beat". Beside you, Steve's busy shooting daggers at the kids table, one of his arms curled behind you on the couch. Not quite touching you, but close enough that you remember it's there once every few minutes.
"Do you want to kill your only best friend?" you ask and Steve pries his eyes away from the group to look at you, eyebrows still furrowed.
"Wha— look, it's just that the kid barely tells me anything anymore, okay? I'm just a little — "
"Jealous?" you interrupt.
"— worried," Steve finishes, mouth twisting into a frown at your words.
You pout at him. "Aww, that's sweet. Mama's worried."
Steve shoots you a look. "Tease all you want, but if something happens to that little shit, it's on me, you know?"
"Aw, I'm sure Dustin loves you too."
Steve gives you another stink eye, then turns back to the kids. You try your best to suppress the smile that tugs at the corners of your lips.
A beat passes before Steve quips again, absentmindedly picking at some loose threads on the arm of the sofa, still gazing at the kids.
"I mean, I worry about the other kids too. About all of us. Robin, Nance. You."
You try to ignore the warmth that mushrooms across your chest.
"Should I be scared that you're worried about me, Harrington?"
He looks back at you. There's a twinkle in his eyes, that flares up that new found feeling in your stomach. You don't want to acknowledge it but it begs for your attention.
"Maybe."
two.
Steve walks eight paces under your window before deciding that he's going to do it. He finds a small pebble in the yard and tosses it at the window, praying to anyone who's up there listening, that you're awake.
Much to his relief, you open the window a minute later and peer down at him in the darkness. You seem to stare at him for a moment— understandably so, given the ungodly hour— and then gesture for him to come up.
Two tries later, Steve is tumbling through the window and into your room.
"Shhhh," you mutter to him in the dark, and he freezes, stilling himself beside your desk.
"What are you doing here?" you ask, voice an octave lower than usual and Steve realises with a start that you had been sleeping after all. If your slightly puffy eyes and pink pajamas are any indication.
"You look like hell," you add, looking him up and down. He hadn't changed from his slacks and white t-shirt and his hair was probably rough from all the tossing and turning. Thankfully though, you don't seem mad. Only confused.
"Right, um," he begins and then shuts up. Now that he's here, he realises how terribly pathetic it is for him to be doing this. How cowardly, how very unmanly.
"Steve?" you ask, reaching out to grab his shoulder. You're so warm, he almost sighs out loud.
"Shit. Yeah. Hi. So, I did come here," he says, but stops again. Because how can he say what he wants to say? How do you tell someone that your house it too big, too empty? That the halls go on forever without a soul in sight? That he lies awake at night, wondering what he would do if he found himself all alone in the world much like he is in his house?
"Earth to Steve," you call again, and now there is concern seeping into your eyes but Steve really, really doesn't know what to say. He simply looks back at you, something cold unfurling in his chest.
"Uh, can I sleep here?" is all he can muster. He braces himself for your reaction, for you to call this weird and refuse but you only tilt your head ever so slightly.
"Of course," is all you say too. There's some recognition in your eyes that leaves him feeling bare but he is grateful that you don't say anything else. He watches you plop into bed and pull one pillow to the corner that is by the wall and fluff it up.
"Okay," he says glancing around your room, "Just give me a pillow, a blanket and I'm good to go."
You stop in your journey of trying to find one edge of the blanket and look up at him, eyebrows knitted.
"Good to go where?"
"Sleep on the floor I mean."
You look at him like he has grown two heads and then pat the space on the bed beside you.
"Don't be stupid. Sleep beside me, there's plenty of room."
three.
"Find it?" Steve calls from beside the bed just as you spot the locket under a couple of envelopes in your drawer. It a pretty large thing— you're not sure how you had missed it the first time. You open the locket to reveal a set of pictures. One of Max, when she was about nine, and other, of your mother.
"Yeah," you answer, putting your arms around and behind your neck to try and clasp the chain together. The darned thing is too small unfortunately and your arms grow sore before you know it.
"Jesus. Here," Steve mutters, having spotted your struggle from where he had been trying to find the necklace under your bed. Without waiting for your response, he gently plucks the delicate chain from your fingers and moves behind you.
The chain clasps together with a satisfying click. As he lets go of it, the tips of his fingers brush ever so gently against your spine and you watch him in the mirror as his eyes move from your neckline to your face.
"All done," he whispers, breath warm on your neck. You can feel his silhouette behind you — those broad shoulders and arms that you don't want to imagine being held by.
But you do anyway.
"Thanks for doing this with me," you whisper, without taking your eyes off of him in the reflection of the mirror. He doesn't look away and your heart skips two beats.
Your fingers fidget with the locket.
"I'm just worried about Max," you say and then bite your tongue, surprised by your own admission. Something in his eyes— it catches in your chest and coaxes your concerns out of you.
"Hey, hey," he says softly, turning you around to face him, his hand slipping into yours. The touch sends a spark up your arm, but it warms you.
All this while, you had been trying to put on a brave face for your sister. But standing in your house, being faced with memories you only think of on the coldest nights— the reality impales you with a terrifying finality. A tear escapes the corner of your eye.
You don't want to see the ruth in Steve's face as he tilts your head towards him with a soft Hey. His eyes are round but far from pitiful.
"She's going to be okay. We're going to make sure that she's alright."
four.
Steve's throat is closing up. A demobat's tail wrapped firmly around his neck restricts all airflow as a swarm of its siblings sink their fangs into his sides. Metal coats his mouth, the agonizing pain sending a shockwave though his body. He can't even scream; the sound builds and dies in his throat. The incessant attacks provide him a surge of adrenaline to thrash at the bat's tail, but in vain. Its grip is too tight. He can already feel the energy start to drain out of his arms as his brain begins to shut down.
If it has to end this way, Steve thinks, he wants to see you before it does. The Upside-Down starts to dim before his eyes as he tries to picture your smile. Radiant, warm. Everything this hell-hole isn't.
Then suddenly, the demobats are screeching around him and his sides are not being torn apart anymore.
Steve's eyes shoot open, to find you looming above him — cheeks streaked with tears and grime, fending off the incoming swarm of bats with a boat paddle. Your presence seems to give him a bolster. He tightens his grip on the bat's tail and bites off a chunk. The wretched creature screeches, instantly loosening its grip on his neck and the oxygen rushes into his throat — almost choking him, but it is a welcome pain. Feeling returns to his fingertips in the form of a faint buzzing.
Standing up and swaying slightly, he swings the creature around by it's tail, slamming it to the ground with a final thud before using his foot to rip it in half. The blood streaks across his slacks but he is too tired to care.
Three things register in his head. One) You are here, in the Upside-Down. So are Robin, Nancy and Eddie. Two) He is alive. Three) You're throwing yourself at him and he immediately wraps his arms around you, shaking. You are trembling too, and a sob bubbles up from your throat.
"What—" he pants into your hair, "What are you doing here?"
You pull back and reach for his face, cupping his cheek. It is too dark to be entirely sure but save for a couple of scratches you seem mostly unharmed. Your eyes are swimming with tears and he desperately wants to comfort you but his on hand is shaking so badly, he is glad you're there to steady him.
"You didn't come up for 3 minutes," you run your thumb across his cheekbone.
"How could I just leave you?"
five.
"You okay in there?" Steve's voice jolts you from your thoughts.
Nancy and Robin trudge several feet ahead of you, Robin's flashlight swinging wildly as she talks animatedly. You look up at Steve, and try to gauge if you should lie or tell the truth.
"I'm just thinking about what pizza I'm getting after we torch this asshole," you quip after a moment and Steve laughs. A good laugh— the kind that travels up your chest and warms your being.
"I'm assuming it's classic margherita?" He asks, slowing down to keep up pace with you. He swings his torch around, keeping an eye out for any movement.
You scoff. "What do you take me for, Harrington? I have taste, alright?"
He laughs again and it is a truly wonderful sound. "Alright, alright. Then what is it?"
"Well, we'll find out if we all make it out alive, eh?" You regret the words as soon as you say them. A silence falls between you again, cold and clammy, much like the surrounding air or lack there of.
A moment passes before Steve nudges his shoulder into yours. "The first thing I wanna do if I make it out alive is talk to this girl."
You turn to look at him, puzzled, but he's looking at the ground, gaze trained on the light thrown by his torch in front of him.
"Tell her how I feel."
You feel your heartbeat rise just ever so slightly just as a branch snaps under Steve's foot. He kicks it aside and steps over a vine.
"She works at Family Video with Robin and I. I only met her a few months ago, but I feel like I've known her forever, you know? She gets me, and I know I am a little stupid about somethings but I get her. She is the only thing that makes complete sense to me. She's so smart, so brave, so beautiful and she— she makes me laugh. She makes me laugh so much."
Steve jumps over a wide log, and you feel like your heart has grown wings and fluttered it's way out of it's cage.
Every word of his feels like it's filling you with air, lifting you gently off the ground. It feels too much, like you're dreaming and might wake up anytime soon, crying about losing something so perfect.
"Steve," you manage, but your voice is weak and croaky. If Steve hears you, he doesn't look at you.
"We've been through so much together, in such less time and I don't think I could have made it this far if it wasn't for her. I don't.. I don't want to share this with anybody else. If I don't make it out alive... my only regret would be not telling her this. And telling her that—" he pauses in his tracks and finally turns to look at you. The expression on his face knocks the wind out of you. Nobody has ever looked at you this way.
"That.. I love you," he says, voice soft as silk and all you can do is close the space between you two to pull him in for a kiss.
You didn’t think, not for a second, not when you had first realised you liked him, that Steve Harrington would return your feelings that you kept so well-guarded. You imagined that friendship was as far as it would go, and tried your best to be indifferent to the growing feelings in your heart.
But the truth was, Steve got you like nobody did. Saw you like nobody else did.
When Steve pulls back, his eyes are shining with something so fierce, you think you might burn under his gaze.
"I love you too," you whisper against his lips and he sighs as if a humongous weight has been lifted off of him. You kiss him once more, then twice and rest your forehead against his. The smile on his face fills you with a newfound courage to face the impending doom.
"We're making it out alive, you and I."
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sashaisready · 5 months
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Chapter Ten - Do you want to take this elsewhere, Doll?
Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader
You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again.
Warning: Beginning of smut 😎
18+ - see Masterlist for full list of warnings
Chapter 11
Series Masterlist
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He sets off out of the alley and you pause for a second before following him back to the club entrance, not really sure where this is going. He gestures to the bouncers who let you both in and he strolls back through to the bar area.
"Bucky, how is this quiet-" you protest but he just grabs your hand and leads you around the bar.
You flinch at the contact, making a mental note to remember later how your hand felt in his.
He leads you to a door and ushers you towards a flight of stairs. You drop in line behind him, your curiosity taking over. There's another door at the top which he unlocks with a fob and props open for you.
You step inside, it's a chic office with a huge mustard couch, as well as a small bar in the corner alongside the large writing desk. The walls are a brilliant white. Everything is modern and expensive looking, lots of high end wood and fancy furnishings. It looks like a picture from an interior design magazine.
He closes the door and looks at you expectantly, wriggling his fingers in a 'Ta da!' gesture. It's a lovely room, but you're not really sure what your meant to be looking at.
"I mean it's nice but..." you begin.
"And what can you hear?" he asks.
You pause. "Nothing...? Oh wait...wow, nothing!" You realise there is not a single sound coming from the thriving nightclub below.
He nods. "Yep...completely sound proofed up here. Perfect if you want some peace".
You listen out for any suggestion of a sound from below but he's right, the only noises are your footsteps as you walk through the room.
"It's so quiet" you gasp. "You could murder someone up here and-"
You freeze for a second, realising your mistake and who you're talking to. You turn to him, the colour draining from your face.
He just shrugs and awkwardly grimaces.
"Well...If you don't want anyone to hear anything" he sighs with a loaded inflection.
Your mouth hangs open in shock and your eyes dart around the space, looking at it with horror now you have new context – panicking as you wonder what might have happened where you're standing. A chill runs down your spine.
Bucky begins to snort with laughter. You flip around to look at him with your brows furrowed.
"Fuck, I'm kidding!" he laughs warmly. "It's only soundproofed so I can get some work done when the club's open...You've seen too many movies".
"Jesus, Bucky!" you squeal, slugging him on the shoulder. "You're such a dick".
You laugh reluctantly, relieved that he's only playing with you.
You flop onto the enormous couch, savouring the comfort.
"Thank-you for this, I just need a minute".
"Take as long as you like, Doll" he says kindly, taking a seat next to you.
You shoot up suddenly and look at him, remembering what he was doing before you ran out.
"Oh, wait – don't you need to get back to your girlfriend?"
Bucky frowns. "Who?"
"You know, that pretty girl you were with downstairs".
He scoffs. "She's not my girlfriend. She just attached herself to me in the VIP area like a limpet. I don't even know her name, why do you think I didn't introduce her to you?"
You snort laughing. "Fuck, you're such a pig" you giggle.
He grins smugly. "So I've been told".
You roll your eyes, playfully swatting at him. He smiles back, moving closer to you so that your legs are touching. You manage to stifle a gasp.
"So you thought she was pretty, huh?" he asks teasingly.
You nod. "Jesus Christ, yeah. Stunning. But all your girls are, aren't they?" you smirk back at him.
His eyes are suddenly alight with mischief.
"And how would you know that?" he purrs.
"You're not the only one who can read up on people..."
He cocks his head as he watches you intently. 
"So...what, you didn't want to be one of them?" His voice is lower now, less playful, more serious now your previous conversation has come up.
You rub your lips together, unsure of how much to admit to him. Everything just got a bit heavier. You pause for a moment, considering what to say. You're quickly sinking under the weight of his gaze.
"Well...I didn't think I could be one of them" you finally admit. Your voice is small, shy.
"What?" he asks, his face is suddenly stern.
"C'mon Bucky. Let's be real. I don't look like any of those girls" you shrug. "I was never going to fit in at Gambino's with thousand dollar wine bottles and cuts of steak costing more than my rent. I'm more...a beer and burgers kinda girl, you know? I didn't want to embarrass you..." you shrug.
He jumps up from the couch. "What??" he practically barks, his face twisted in anger.
"What?" you ask incredulously, surprised by his reaction.
"THAT'S why you turned me down??" he practically snarls.
You raise your eyebrows at him. "Well...yeah".
He runs a hand through his hair, chuckling in disbelief. "You're kidding me right??"
You chew your bottom lip. "....no?" You said hesitatingly, not sure what answer he's looking for.
Bucky stamps his foot and claps his hands victoriously.
"Fuck! I knew I wasn't going insane at the bakery" he whips out his phone. "I need to tell Steve this and rub it in his face" he says childishly as begins to furiously type on his screen.
This goes on for a few moments, his focus on you now entirely lost.
You glare at him with confusion, unsure of what you're meant to be doing. You're a bit annoyed that this is his reaction after you were open with him, putting yourself out there and admitting your insecurities. Now, what, he's texting his friends?? You slowly rise to your feet and awkwardly head for the door, thinking you should probably leave him to it.
"Nope" he says authoritatively. Without looking up from his phone he points aggressively to the couch.
"Sit your ass back down, I'm not done with you yet".
You obey him and plop yourself back onto the couch again immediately, responding to the assertiveness in his tone almost instinctively, seeing a tiny glimpse of his boss persona.
He finally finishes on his phone and slides it into his jacket inside pocket. His eyes lock onto you once more.
"Okay, so where we were? Oh, right. What the fuck is the matter with you?" He asks inquisitively.
"Excuse me?" You respond coolly, scowling at him.
"Am I getting this right - you turned me down for a date because you were uncomfortable with the restaurant choice and got yourself worked up looking at photos of me and other women?" He scolds, folding his arms across his chest.
"...uh. Yes".
"Right. So you did want to go out with me? And you were flirting with me in the bakery, right?"
You blush, feeling embarrassed at this interrogation and exposure of your feelings.
"...yes" you reply meekly.
He nods. "Okay. So I'll ask you again, what the fuck is the matter with you?"
You glare at him and clench your jaw. "I'm not going to sit here being spoken to like this"
You get up to leave and furiously head towards the door but he blocks your path.
"Dolldolldoll - I'm sorry" he stammers, grinning at you fiendishly.
"Don't be like that. I don't mean to give you a hard time. I just didn't see this coming. Here's me thinking you just didn't want to go out with me, that I'd misread all of the signals. That's why I haven't been back to the bakery – I assumed you thought I was a creepy jerkoff".
You avert your gaze. "No...but maybe I do now."
Your tone is stroppy, sullen. You're embarrassed that he finds this all so amusing.
He cups your chin in his hand and your breath hitches. He gently tilts your face up with his gloved fingers, leaning in close. You look up at him anxiously, very aware of the sound of your heartbeat in your ears.
"Doll..." he says, much softer now. "All you had to do was tell me. We didn't have to go to Gambino's. I just wanted to take you somewhere nice. But I'd never want you to feel uncomfortable. We could've gone anywhere. Hell, I would've taken you to Burger King if that's what you wanted".
You beam at him. "Really?"
"Really." He grins back.
"But all those women, Bucky. I don't look like them. I just don't know if I'm enough for you-"
But you don't finish your sentence because he cuts you off with a sudden kiss. He pulls your face to his, nibbling on your lower lip for a moment before his tongue is in your mouth. You press back into him, your hands entwined in his hair as your tongue welcomes him greedily. You're practically panting as his arms lock you in his embrace. Your entire body seems to fizz as you drop the bottle of water you've been clutching. It's electric, better than you could have ever imagined.
He pulls away and locks your face between his hands, holding you so close that he's practically eye to eye with you.
"You really think I'd do that if I didn't find you attractive enough, Doll?" He tells you between heavy breaths.
"If I didn't think you were gorgeous? If I hadn't been losing my mind thinking about what's under your overalls every time I'm in the bak-"
It's your turn to cut him off now. You push him down onto the sofa, straddling him as you return to your place on his mouth, kissing him desperately, hungrily - as if it could be snatched away from you at any moment.
He kisses back just as urgently, his hands running up your back and over your hips. You can feel the metal arm now. His gloves are still on but you can feel the weight of it, feel the difference between it and his other hand as his fingers slide up the back of your dress.
You weren't even aware that you'd begun to rock back and forth, your crotch rubbing against his suit trousers as you desperately seek friction.
He moans softly into your mouth, it cuts through your lust haze and goes straight to your core. Your only thought is that you want to hear him make more of those noises. And you want to be the one causing them. Teasing them out piece by piece as if uncovering buried treasure.
He manages to peel you off him for a moment, gasping for breath as he looks at you.
"Do you want to take this elsewhere, Doll?" He pants. "I mean I'm happy to keep going here but I'm aware one of my men might come knocking at any moment - and I don't think I'm going to be able to stop if we go any further..."
You ponder his question as he begins to smatter butterfly kisses up your neck and down to your chest. You mewl at the feeling. On the one hand you want to go home with him - do this properly with the care it deserves and not risk interruption by one of Bucky's goons should something need his attention in the club...
...But you know you're already dripping. You're practically aching for him, desperate to feel him. You whine in frustration at having to stop, your libido clouding your judgement.
Bucky grins, his ego imploding at your clear desire for him. You've barely touched one another and you're already foggy with lust.
"Can we go to your place?" You ask quietly.
He nods and smiles at you, tapping your back with his fingers to signal for you to get off his lap. You do, getting to your feet and giving yourself a shake to break out of your cloud of arousal. Bucky grunts and adjusts his obvious erection as he stands up. 
You go to pick up the water bottle you dropped but he just waves it away and grabs your hand - leading you back down the stairs.
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Note
Hi! could you maybe do more of Florence being pregnant? they are the cutest stories to read, and i dont see alot of them, sadly enough. But if you do, thank you!<3
btw i love your work!!
── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗿𝗼𝗯𝗶𝗻
paring: mum!florence pugh x fem!reader
tag(s): pregnant flo, fluff, r being worried about being a mother, flo reassuring r <3
warning(s): pregnancy (?), grammatical errors, unedited
word count: 1.3k
note: I feel like this is similar to 'Little Daisy' but also different (?), I tried my best. I'm having a majors writer block so if you guys have any requests please send them in. I'm not a native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Hope you like it, nonnie <3
note 2: HAVE YOU GUYS SEEN THE PICTURES OF FLO WITH ANDREW???!!! I LOVE THEM SO MUCH
requests are open! + check my rules here <3
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At first you didn’t notice the changes in Florence’s body, even though they were right there, hiding in plain sight. 
It all started with the nauseas. You thought she had a virus but a quick visit to the doctor told you otherwise. She wasn’t sick at all, she was full of life. A tiny human was growing inside of her. 
Your eyes winded once the doctor gave the both of you the news, horror and confusion and anxiety on your face. Florence, on the other hand, had the biggest smile on hers, her eyes sparkling at the doctor's statement. 
You tried to pretend everything was fine, you faked a small smile and quizzed her hand in assurance. But as soon as she and the doctor got to talking about her body and the baby, you zoned out, taking in the information. 
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to have a baby, no, that wasn't the problem. You would love nothing more than to form a family with her, but you weren’t sure if you were ready. A baby was a huge deal, it was a human being after all. They need to be taken care of, and you weren’t sure if you would be able to do that. One thing was taking care of yourself, another thing was taking care of Florence, and taking care of a baby was a whole other thing. 
Florence didn’t notice your odd behaviour until the both of you got in the car and you were still silent. She then realised that since the doctor had told the both of you the news you hadn’t said a word. 
“Y/n, baby, is everything okay?” she placed her hand on your thigh, gently squeezing it in reassurance. 
You looked at her, tears burning your eyes. 
“Baby, what is it?” the look on your face worried her instantly, her hand found your cheek trying to comfort you. You leaned into her touch. 
“I just, I don’t if I can do this, Flo,” you whispered, not actually wanting her to hear you. 
She looked so happy when she found out she was pregnant, you didn’t want to take that away from her. You didn’t want to disappoint her. 
“You mean the baby?”, she asked softly, not wanting to scare you more than you already were. 
You slowly nodded your head. “I just, I don’t think I will be good at it. I’m going to fuck up, and I don’t want that for them. I don’t want them to be like me, I won’t do that to them,” the tears you tried so badly to stop from shedding were now rolling down your cheeks. 
“Y/n, listen to me. I get it, it’s scary, it’s new. You have every right to feel like this, but hear my words. You are the most incredible human being I ever had the pleasure to meet. This baby would be the luckiest baby on earth to have you as their mother. And I would love nothing more than for them to be exactly like you. Because you are everything, Y/n. You are kind, you’re funny, you are loyal, compassionate, courageous. You are the most marvellous person I have ever met,” she gently wiped your tears. “And you are not alone, baby. I know we can do this, okay? I wouldn't want anyone else to share this baby with. I know we didn’t plan this, but maybe it’s meant to be,” she pressed her forehead against yours. 
“Flo, I’m just so scared.”
“I know, baby. I know. But, hey, we have about six more months before they are here. We have plenty of time to figure our shit out,” she joked. 
A giggle escaped from your lips.
“We got this, okay?”
“Okay.” 
She gently pressed her lips against yours, wanting nothing more than to kiss all your worries and fears away. 
[...]
“Holy shit,” you gasped. 
“I know right?” she smiled at you. 
Your hand was on her now 6 month belly, feeling the strong kick of your child. Billie, laying beside Florence on the bed, was also paying attention to the little kicks of the tiny human growing inside her owner. 
“His kicks are so strong.” 
“Yeah. Wait,” she looked up at you. “His?” she raised her eyebrow at you. 
“Yeah, he’s definitely a he.”
“And how would you know that?” she playfully smacked your arm. 
“I just have a feeling.”
“Well, since I’m the one carrying the child I know for a fact that he is in fact a she.” 
You shook your head.” No, it’s a boy. But it doesn’t matter, as long as he is healthy I don't’ care what he is,” you placed a soft kiss on her belly. 
“Or what she is.”
“Whatever they are, right Billie?” she heard your calling and barked at you. “See, she knows I’m right. Billie can also feel it.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Florence threw a pillow at you. A smile formed on her lips. 
Her heart warmed everytime you would talk about the baby with so much love in your eyes, knowing that you finally admitted to yourself that you were going to be great at motherhood. 
“What about Matthew?” 
“For the baby?” you nodded. “Even if it was a boy, which isn’t the case, we are not naming our child after some dude with a vigilante complex, Y/n.”
“Oh, come on. Matt is a great lawyer and a great dude. This baby would be lucky to be named after him.” 
She squinted your eyes at you, not sure if you were being serious or not. 
“Okay, Matthew is a nice name,” she gave in. “But that doesn’t mean it a yes, okay?” you pouted. “Don’t give me that look, Y/n. I said I’ll think about it,” she smacked the pillow into your face once again. 
“Stop doing that,” you chuckled, snatching the pillow from her hands. 
“What about Primrose?” she tried. 
You sent her a death glare. “Just because your name is flower related doesn’t mean our child’s should also be.”
She rolled her eyes at you. “Okay, new rule. If flower names are discarded, so are marvel names.”
“You monster,” you pretend to be shot in the heart. “Okay, deal,” you shook hands. 
Florence grabbed her phone looking for baby names, you took advantage of the fact that she was now distracted, leaned into her belly and whispered only for the baby to hear. 
“Don’t worry, little one. I’ll make sure you have a cool name, even if it isn’t Matthew.”
Florence bit her bottom lip trying to hide the smile creeping on her lips. 
[...]
“What do you think about Robin?” you whispered, trying not to wake up the small human being in your arms. Your eyes never left their tiny body, so fragile yet so strong and healthy. 
It had been about 17 hours since you and Florence arrived at the hospital, 5 hours since she started to give birth to your child, and now 10 minutes since you first held them in your arms. 
You were slowly swinging them back and forth, trying to keep them calm. But also soothing yourself. You felt like you were going to explode any minute, not just by excitement and love for the tiny baby in your arms. But also anxiety and worry. But, somehow, the moment your skin made contact with theirs, every doubt you had ever had just washed away. 
Florence felt immensely happy, not only had she finally met her first born, but she got to share the moment with you. Her eyes got watery as she watched you rocking back and forth the tiny human. She couldn't believe you had ever doubted yourself. 
“Robin?”
“Yeah, it means bright, shining.”
“You sure it’s not a marvel character's name?” she playfully asked. 
“I, um…” you trailed off. 
“I like it,” she knew it was a marvel character’s name, but she didn’t care. “Our little Robin,” she smiled at you. 
“Hey, little Robin,” you whispered to the baby, tears burning your eyes.
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Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3
-M
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igotanidea · 8 months
Text
Not an average girl: Jason todd x reader part 1
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This for the long-anon, finally! Yes, I'm turning it into a series, hope you'll like it.
summary : Y/N always thought she was ordinary... until some supernatural occurences started happening and she learnt the truth.....
***
Let’s put it simply.
Y/N was not an outcast. No one ever gave her any weird treatment or a cold shoulder.
Yes, she was a loner.
Yes, she was a bit specific.
Yes, she did feel a bit out, if you know what I mean.
But.
She was a good student with extreme listening skills. She couldn’t quite figure it out, but it seemed like every time she talked to someone she was just getting inside that person’s head, feeling what he or she felt.
It made her act like some sort of therapist, but once she was back from school and alone in her room she just felt like screaming, due to that weird, tingling sensation inside her. Like something was creeping in, but she used to brush it off.
The only way to relax and get some steam off was spending time in Gotham’s forest, alone, walking and thinking.
Just like she was doing at the moment.
It was getting quite late, but she couldn’t care less. She had another crazy day, filled with school, stuff to do and all the stimuli and things made her dizzy. She just needed a moment alone.  She was barely 17 and she already felt like life was a bit too much for her. And it was much more than just a teenage-girl-misery.
So. Much. More.
And Y/N just hated her mother diminishing her emotions and telling her how much the girl was exaggerating. She just didn’t understand. How could she possibly understand? For the last few years, every time Y/N was trying to talk to her mother about how she felt, in return she got wide open eyes, terrified gaze and reckless words.
It seemed like since the time her mum left her dad and started new family, Y/N’s stepsister was so much more important than her.  
And it hurt.
Hence why Y/N preferred being alone and acting like everything was fine.
“Shit!” she hissed feeling the rain starting to fall from the sky. Judging by the intensity she would be wet and shivering in the matter of seconds and that realisation made her run towards the hut in the woods she knew was nearby. “Freaking Gotham!”
Her feet were slipping on the damp litter and she had to watch her every step not to end up in the mud. That would surely be the reason of another series of questioning and damning gaze at home. Not that she cared, but why tank oneself…
“Shit! I just need five minutes to get to the shelter!” she cried out in space, fighting against the aura, brushing the hair plastered to her forehead and ducking under the branches. It only took a second of distraction and she stepped on the cone losing her balance and ending up face straight in the puddle. “shit!” she slashed through mud trying to get up and only after a moment realising that the rain did actually stop. “Right on time….” Her jeans already looked like she shit herself, her hair was a mess, she was all wet and dirty, already sensing a heavy cold coming. Amazing.
She sighed deeply, starting walking back home but after a few minutes the rain started pouring again.
“Oh, come on! Just freaking stop!”
It stopped. And now it got her confused and curious.
I think I forgot to mention that Y/N read her fair share of fantasy books while being younger. Harry Potter, spells, Divergent, fractions, element control…. She was really, really familiar with all that. But… seeing something like that happen in reality? That was a whole different level and she wasn;t sure how to feel about it.
“what the…..?” she muttered to herself looking up “what is happening?”
“give or take a few minutes and it will start again….”
“How do you…..?” Y/n turned around towards the voice coming from behind but once she saw the creature that joined her, the girl froze, her eyes grew wide and involuntarily she took a step back, avoiding another hit with the ground only by a miracle (I think you already guessed she was a bit clumsy). “Wha….whaaaa…..?”
“Don’t be scared, child. I intend no harm to you.”
“But…. But….” She stuttered. “you’re a…..”
“a wolf.”
“A freaking talking wolf! Since when is Gotham turning into a freaking Beacon Hills!?”
“now, my dear that’s a bit offensive” the wolf pointed out, tilting its head and growling.
“sorry, sorry!” she raised her head in surrender and apology “I got so many questions right now.”
“I’m sure…” the wolf yelped
“You… you’re good?” she hesitantly took a step forward “I mean, I don’t know why but… I feel like you’re in pain? I know it might sound crazy, but…..”
“My time is coming….”
“Your time is….I’m sorry what?”
“I heard your calling.”
“You heard my what now!?”
“My dear child, you have absolutely no idea who you are, do you?”
“Who…. Who I am? What do you mean? I’m just a teenage girl… No one special…. Oh my god…” she starts panicking a bit and babbling “I’m in the forest in the dark. Alone. In Gotham. Alone. In the dark. With a talking wolf…. A talking wolf telling me about who I am…. Oh, god…. Oh, god…. I am going crazy.” She starts pacing back and forth, barely holding back from biting her nails “I am going completely crazy….. Oh! I know!” she exclaims stopping in the middle of the step “It’s all just  an erratic dream! Yes! I’m gonna wake up in a second and then… then everything is going to be fine. I’ll go to school and laugh at what my tired mind produced during the night. My mum was right I really have to cut on the sugar…..”
“You’re done?” the wolf asked patiently waiting till she stops talking “It’s not a dream.”
“but it’s not a reality either.” She shook her head “so what is this? Some third dimension? I don’t do drugs. I don’t smoke. Damn, I don’t even drink!”
“Out of all the creatures in this world, you should be the one to understand supernatural occurrences. People tend to only scratch the surface of what’s possible and what exists, but you….”
“What? Am I different? I am people….” She trailed, but her words waiver at the end “I am people, right?”
“You’re a banshee.” The wolf revealed
“I’m a….” she whispered turning pale “I’m a…. banshee? Like… the old lady in white crying and sensing death? How…? Why….? What?!” she scrunched her face. “I’m 17! I can’t be a freaking banshee! It’s just a folklore legend! It’s not real!”
“Not realer than an old dying wolf saying that too you….”
“Dying?”
“Yes, I told you, my time is coming. But I sensed you…. I sensed… you had no idea….. and …..”
“You felt the need to tell me?”
The wolf nods, weakening by the second.
“I….um…..” she scratched her head, still unable to process what was happening. “thank you? But …..”
“My time is coming, child….”
“but I got so many questions!”
“you should talk to your mother…..”
“my mother! What does she have to do with that?”
“It’s her blood that makes you… who you are….” The wolf panted laying on the ground
“no, no, no, no, no…..” she rushed to his side and tries to make him keep his eyes open “hey…” she smiles awkwardly “I know we’ve only just met, but please don’t die on me? Pretty please?” her tone turned a bit desperate
“My job on this world is done, my child. I fulfilled the mission. The rest… is in your hands….”
“My hands? But… but I don’t have a clue what to do with that knowledge! I’m 17…I…..” she stopped seeing the pain on the wolf’s muzzle “I’m being selfish…..” she whispered “I’m sorry….” Her hands found a way towards the wolf’s fur and started caressing in gently. “It’s ok….it’s ok…. “ she soothed. The wolf was dying and all she was doing was pushing him for the answers ‘it’s ok…..you’re coming back to the roots… you’ll be united with the earth and the universe….” Those words shocked even herself. Apparently witch-like words came in bonus with the knowledge of her true nature…..
“Can you…. Burry me?” the wolf panted, his eyes falling closed.
“I will. I promise. You can rest now. You’re mission is done. You fulfilled your destiny….” She whispered, burying her face in his fur “goodbye my friend….”
Maybe it was crazy but once he gave his last breath Y/N did feel like she lost someone close to her. Maybe it was because of the fact that she was a supernatural creature now. She did not belong in the real word. Not fully. And knowing that was both scaring and exciting.
***
Once she buried the wolf as promised, she remembered his words.
It’s her blood……
Seemed like Y/N was going to have a serious conversation with her parent…….
To be continued....
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givemea-dam-break · 1 year
Note
Hello! Could you do a Lockwood x reader where it’s like an enemies to lovers please? Thanks :) ❤️
a/n: abso fucking lutely i'm obsessed with this idea omg thank you, this is a long one, so be warned. i hope you enjoy! it doesn't have much of the 'lovers' part, so i'd be more than happy to write a part two if anyone wants :)
warnings: language, mentions of abuse (for a case, not the reader) gn reader
full series collection: here
Doughnuts. All you wanted was some goddamn doughnuts from your favourite bakery, but even that had to be ruined by some stuck-up, arrogant boy who had a penchant for wearing obnoxiously long jackets that were surely impractical.
Breathing a sigh through your nose, you gratefully take the box of glazed doughnuts from Arif.
He's striding towards you with those concerningly long legs, and it's only when you get closer to the door that you realise he's on a mission. If he'd wanted to make some snide remark, he would've done so in passing, but, no, he's making a beeline straight for you.
"Lockwood," you say tightly, gripping the box hard.
"(name)," he says, plastering on that infamous 'Lockwood Grin' that you cannot stand. "I was wondering if I could speak to you."
"Isn't that what you're doing now?"
If you didn't know any better, you'd think the sarcastic comment hadn't bothered him, but a muscle ticks ever so slightly in his jaw. Almost unnoticeable.
"I mean, out of the way of customers," he says, gesturing behind him to the line of people at the till. "Mind if we sit?"
You really don't want to, partly because he's a pompous ass that screwed you over a year ago, but also because you would much rather be sat in your flat, stuffing your face with glazed doughnuts while reading that new book your flatmate lent you. But something in his expression, his posture, tells you that it should wait and, against your better judgement, you trudge over to one of the small tables.
"What do you want?" you ask, crossing your arms. "There are things I'd much rather be doing than speaking to you."
Lockwood sits across from you, and that face of his - oh, how you want to punch it. It's as if his resting face is just one of pure confidence and arrogance, and you hate it.
"What? Sitting home doing nothing until you get a call for a job?" His brow raises in question. "Yeah, well, I've got a job for you. Lockwood and Co need help on a case."
You scoff. "And why would I help you? Last time I did that, you stole the job right from under me. DEPRAC rules, you said. Bullshit."
"Look," Lockwood says, "I didn't mean for that to happen. New rules had come into place that I didn't know about. But we need you, (name), even if it pains me to say."
"Well, it doesn't pain me to say no." You slip your bag on, which had been sitting on the ground by your feet, and stand, grasping your doughnut box. Then, sarcastically, "Have a great day, Lockwood."
"Wait, please."
For a moment, you hesitate. The way he said please tugged at something in you, something deep down and buried. One of his hands has reached across the table as if to grab yours, and you frown.
"Listen, I know we don't get along anymore, but this case... We need a Listener, a good one."
"Thought your Listener was the best in the country, or did you scare her off, too?"
He looks a little pained at that, but only for half a second. Then, he gestures for you to sit again. Reluctantly, you do so, but only because that little part of you, the part that you buried the last time you trusted him, is screaming at you.
"Lucy is out of action for a bit," Lockwood explains. "She's visiting family up north, but this isn't a case we can pass up. We need a Listener for it, and you're the next best thing. This time, I'll make sure you get your cut of the pay. This one is under Lockwood and Co, not DEPRAC."
You shouldn't accept the offer, you really shouldn't. Last time, he had taken the whole share for his company because "Whoever secures the source gets the pay", and you'd been left living on scraps for a fortnight until your next case came through. He'd promised you countless things before the case, after the case, and he'd fallen through on all of them.
But this... It's been a while since you've been on any case but some measly Type Ones, and you have to admit that you're itching to have a challenge, to really put your Talent to good use.
"Tell me about the case, and I'll think about it."
He perks up a little at that. "From the description the woman, Mrs Wyatt, gave us, something her granddaughter told her, we assume it's a Type Two, but a strong one. George can't find much, if anything, about the home to help us understand the purpose of the ghost or what a possible source may be, hence why we need a Listener."
"Right." You take one of the doughnuts from your box and take a bite out of it. "How much of the cut will I get? I understand you have a company, and that'll inevitably cost more, but I have bills to cover, too, and freelancers don't get nearly enough work."
"Forty percent," Lockwood offers.
You pause, taken aback. In all honesty, you would've accepted twenty-five percent - it was reasonable, and jobs with Type Twos often earned a lot more, so it's not like you would be going skint, but forty? It's more than you could've hoped for in a situation like this.
That doesn't mean you'll turn it down.
"Alright," you say. "Deal. Give me an address and a time, and I'll be there."
--
The house that looms over you is tall and foreboding despite its sandstone exterior, framed by beautiful flowering plants and some kids' tricycles and bikes in the driveway. It's a two-storey house, not overly large, but something about it has dread coiling in your stomach.
After the meeting with Lockwood, you decided to do a little bit of research yourself, and it turned out that he was right. Obviously, your research skills were nowhere even close to the standard of George's, but there was nothing except for some building plans for the house dating back to the early twentieth century.
So, here you stand, confused and annoyed, checking the watch on your wrist impatiently.
Late. Lockwood and George were late.
You expected as much, but it doesn't mean that you're not irritated. The sun is making its descent in the sky, and, although it's summer, the creeping darkness that is miles away from overtaking the sky still gives you a chill.
A Type Two in a house with no known malevolent history or any kind of strange deaths. Strange, but not entirely unheard of.
"(name)! So sorry we're late."
You turn, scowling. "You realise we now only have, what, twenty minutes to scout out the house and set up defences?"
Lockwood and George stumble to a stop in front of you, panting from running and carrying their heavy gear.
"Again," Lockwood says, "we're sorry. Let's get in there, shall we? Make a start?"
He makes for the front door and, begrudgingly, you follow shortly behind, George trailing after.
The interior of the house is cosy, with warm-toned flowery wallpaper and photographs hanging in frames from the walls. Children laughing in coloured photos, or black and white polaroids from even further before. A few plants are scattered, on the table lining the wall, in the corner of the hall beside the stairs. A patterned rug lines the hardwood floor.
You take it upon yourself to set up an iron chain circle in the hallway, setting a lantern in the centre for dim light while George and Lockwood explore the kitchen and living room, setting up circles there, too. All of the rooms are the same - warm-toned walls, photos everywhere, soft-cushioned seats, and the soothing scent of lavender and, strangely, bergamot.
"Sixteen degrees in the hall and the kitchen," George calls.
"Fourteen in the lounge," Lockwood replies. "You hear anything yet, (name)?"
"About to try."
Taking a deep breath, your senses begin to fade away until all that's left is silence, thick and heavy. There's nothing, no traces of sound, until... Tapping, like a walking stick on wood. Ever so faint, but persistent, followed by slow shuffling feet.
"I've got something," you say. "Upstairs. Someone walking, using a walking stick."
Lockwood appears from the living room, donning that annoying grin of his. "Perfect. George, you stay down here and monitor the rooms, make sure nothing is down here. We'll go upstairs and see if we can find a source of some kind."
He strides up the stairs, and you follow, making sure to keep your senses open. The tapping is still going, but it's slowly getting louder. There's something more behind it, something you can't pick out.
"Lockwood, wait."
He stops short, turning back to look at you. "Everything alright?"
"Wait here a minute."
You pass him on the stairs, cautiously stepping onto the landing. There are three bedrooms and a bathroom, but one door hangs open slightly. You inch closer, but find yourself pausing a few feet away.
Shouting. It's muffled, but you can hear it well enough. A man and a woman, arguing furiously, and then, a sharp crack, like something being hit. There's a loud cry of pain, and you flinch, stumbling backwards. Then, a cry of anger, the sound of a woman's rage, another loud crack, and, finally, silence.
"(name), what's wrong?" Lockwood's fingers brush your arm, and, usually, you would've scowled and shrugged him off, but to have the comfort of something living nearby calms you a little.
"It's only ever been Mrs Wyatt's family living here, right?"
"That's what George says. Why?"
You swallow the lump in your throat. "I think she missed out on some important details."
"Such as?"
"I think she killed her husband."
Lockwood chokes on air but regains his composure quickly. "What?"
"In her defence, he was an abusive prick, I think. And, if my guess is worth anything, his walking stick is the source."
You're glad that Lockwood doesn't ask you how you know that. Instead, he draws his rapier and checks the temperature outside the bedroom door.
"Nine degrees and falling," he says. "Growing malaise... It's still early for a ghost to be this strong."
"Set up an iron circle outside the door," you suggest. "I'll watch your back, then we can open the door and look in. One of us hunts for the source, the other keeps watch."
"You know," Lockwood says while pulling iron chains out of his bag, "I'm hiring your services. I should be making the plans."
You shrug. "I'm a freelancer. I go by my own rules and strategies. Now, I'm going to go inside and search for the source. Watch my back."
He's about to protest, but you draw your rapier and step into the bedroom before he can.
If not for the chill that cuts straight through you upon stepping into the room, it would have been lovely to see. The walls are a pretty shade of green, and the bed is made - untouched. A massive mahogany wardrobe towers in the corner beside the large window.
"Be careful," Lockwood says from the circle. "There's a deathglow by the wardrobe. It's bright."
Slowly, cautiously, you make your way over to the wardrobe. The scene from earlier replays in your mind, but the tapping of a walking stick has gotten louder. Nothing happens as you inch closer, but dread and tiredness make your limbs heavy - Lockwood was right, it's too early for the malaise to be this strong. It's not even entirely dark outside.
"(name), watch out!"
A chill cuts right by you, and a bright light glows as the ghost, appearing from god knows where, launches itself in your direction. You leap out of the way, falling backwards onto the bed and swiping your rapier in a figure-of-eight motion. Lockwood runs from the iron circle, throwing a salt bomb at the ghost, which disappears momentarily.
He grasps your hand, pulling you off the bed. "At least we know who the ghost is now. Mr Wyatt."
You breathe heavily, eyes widening before you push Lockwood out of the way. The ghost of Mr Wyatt, a middle-aged man - maybe in his late fifties upon his death - dressed in a shirt, dress pants, and a patterned sweater vest, rages over and would've ghost-touched Lockwood if not for you moving him. You duck out of the way, slashing with your rapier again, but the ghost reforms quickly, pushing you backwards.
All of a sudden, your feet are separated from the ground, and you're thrown backwards. Your back slams through the glass of the window, shattering it, and, for a moment, you think you'll fall to the ground, breaking every bone in your body and dying a horrible death.
It would certainly be a way to go, falling from a window, but your fingers latch onto the window frame, pierced by the sharp glass still attached. Your grip is weak, and your arms are shaking badly. The ground is so far below...
"(name)!"
"Get the source!" you shriek, trying not to look down. "Wardrobe!"
"George!" Lockwood shouts.
You can't see much of what's happening, but you can hear it: Lockwood's feet dancing across the ground as he fights off the ghost. As you slowly pull yourself up, not to much avail, you catch a glimpse of him nearing the wardrobe, pursued by a very angry ghost.
"Hurry!" you cry. Blood seeps down your hands, your grip slipping on the window. "Lockwood!"
Another few seconds and you'll fall, but the room is suddenly silent, filled only by Lockwood's heaving breathing. His footsteps hurry over, and then he's leaning out of the window, grasping your arms in a strong grip. He pulls you through the window, and your faces are too close for a moment. You're acutely aware of the warmth of his hands through your jumper, of the sound of his heartbeat, so close, so loud. You swallow hard and stumble out of his grip onto the bed, breathing heavily and trembling.
"Was I right?" you ask, trying to hide your fear. "Was it the walking stick?"
Lockwood pants, sitting on the bed beside you. "You were right."
Heavy footsteps sound on the landing, and then George stands in the doorway. "Did you get the ghost?"
"Yes," Lockwood says, his voice angry. "Where were you?"
"I couldn't hear you," George said. "It was like there was some sound block or something. I've heard of ghosts doing that before."
You take a deep breath. "Either way, it's gone now."
"Thanks to you," Lockwood says. "If not for you, we wouldn't have known what the source was, or where it was."
It hurts a little to stand up. "Long as I get paid, I'm happy. Now, can we get out of this house?"
Lockwood's eyes linger on you a little too long. "Come back to Portland Row with us. We'll get you patched up."
You want to refuse the offer, but your fingers are torn up, bleeding, and there's glass stuck in some parts of your flesh, plus, Portland Row is closer than your flat.
"Fine."
--
It's safe to say that ghost hunting was the best career path for Lockwood - he'd be a shit doctor, to put it simply.
"You don't have to put that much cream on the cuts, you twat. It'll all just squeeze out of the plasters and go all over my hands."
Lockwood's grip on your hand is gentle as he begins applying plasters. "It's supposed to help fight off the chance of infection. Surely more is better."
You groan, but there's not much else you can do. Your other hand has already received the Doctor Lockwood treatment.
You've never really spent this much time this close to Lockwood, but part of you - one you want to tear out, rip up, and burn - doesn't mind it. That part doesn't mind the scent of tea and cheap shampoo, or the feeling of his hand enveloping yours in a grasp so soft that it's barely there.
Get it together, you tell yourself.
You have to remind yourself of why you two don't get on in the first place: the last case you worked on together, the snide remarks made since, but... is it worth keeping that up? Yes, you were hurt, and, yes, it still stings thinking about your trust in him a year ago being betrayed in a way that might seem small to most, but is it really worth keeping it up? All the anger?
Your flatmate has told you on multiple occasions to move on, to forgive, even if you don't forget, and now, watching Lockwood tenderly patch you up as if the last year of arguing and avoidance never existed, you almost want to listen to her.
Lockwood tilts his head up to look at you, and you freeze, having been caught in the act of staring at him. His cocky grin appears, and you groan, looking away.
"Thanks," you say, pulling your plastered hand out of his grip. "I better head home."
Lockwood hesitates. "Why don't you stay? It's late, and it's a half-hour walk to your flat from here. Lucy's room is free."
You scoff. "Today's case may have gone well, but that doesn't mean I want to stay under your roof for the night. You'll probably poison my tea."
"Alright." Part of his tone sounds disappointed, but the expression on his face shows none of the emotion. "I'll get the money sent to you as soon as."
"Good." Standing, you pluck a biscuit from the tin on the kitchen table. "And, uh... Thanks for saving my life."
He grins wide. "Any time."
Hesitating, you watch him for a second longer - the way he moves as he packs away the first aid kit, the way his eyes flick from the table to you.
Something about your relationship has changed. Even now, you no longer feel the burning hatred for him. No, it's simmered down a bit. Now, it's a mild dislike with a touch of... what is that? Admiration? Gratitude? Ew.
"See you around, Lockwood."
"See you, (name). And, again, thank you, for helping with the case."
"It was whatever."
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tinted-skies · 2 years
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small confessions with dream
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Mark `~ Mark was blabbing about how good Justin Bieber's new song was, commenting on how perfect the lyrics were and how he couldn't wait to learn its melody on the guitar. You, however, just sat there, passively nodding, not matching his energy at all.
"You haven't listened to the song yet, have you?" He asked, finally noticing your lack of excitement.
"I just don't really care about him that much to be honest..."
Mark's jaw dropped, making you genuinely worried that he would dislocate it.
After the initial shock he'd be chill about it, respecting your opinion. But once you show the tiniest bit of interest in the artist, you can bet he'll show up a day later with a playlist (or maybe even a mixtape) of his favourite songs.
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Renjun `~ It was around midnight when Renjun sent you a reddit post. OP claimed to have seen a real ovni, which made you giggle.
You joked around the topic with your boyfriend, believing his comments were just as sarcastic as yours. But soon enough, you realised that wasn't exactly the case.
"I don't believe in aliens, though..." You confessed, which lead to him leaving the text app. Was he really leaving you on read over this-
And in a milisecond he was back, flooding you with articles, videos and podcasts with "genuine proof" of alien life.
After that night, Renjun made it his life mission to make you see his point of view. And it honestly didn't even surprise you when you once watched him scroll on his phone only to find out that he was part of alien stan twitter.
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Jeno `~ "I'm never, ever, doing this again." A voice echoed, followed by the front door slamming shut.
Yet another friend who gave up on being Jeno’s workout partner... You couldn't really blame them though, you had heard that things could get intense during bike day. In Jaemin's own words, Jeno ran "that shit like the military" and to be honest you didn't even know whether you found that insanely attractive or just straight up scary.
After giving his friend a very dramatic eye roll, his eyes dropped on you, the look on his eyes shifting from annoyance to... determination?
No, no, no, no no. No way in hell you would "tagg along" in his "fun bike rides". You knew better than to fall for that.
"I don't even know how to ride a bike, so don't get any ideas." You revealed, hoping that would save you ass. But much to your dismay your confession had the exact opposite effect, instanly leading to him dragging you outside to teach you.
The days after, you wouldn't get a break, him forcing you to go on mandatory bike dates since they were "good for practice".
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Haechan `~ It was around 4 in the morning, meaning that everyone at the dorms was asleep. Everyone except you, who stood in the kitchen, water glass in hand.
The dead silence of the night was soon interrupted by the sound of someone tiredly dragging their feet. Haechan entered the kitchen, rubbing his eyes while letting out a yawn. It took him a while to spot you, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion once he did so.
"Can't sleep when I'm stressed..." You explained quietly, to which he nodded understandingly. Although never having faced the stress of finals, he could imagine it to be similar to the stress he felt during comeback season.
"You know what I normally do when I can't sleep?" He whispered walking closer to you, voice rough as he had just woken up.
"Play overwatch." He answered his own question.
"I've never played overwatch, though..." You confessed, your words making Haechan smile softly.
He had waited for this moment for a very long time, the two loves of his life were finally meeting and he suddenly felt like he was on the clouds.
He guided you to his room, turned on his computer and taught you how to play. You played in the dark of his bedroom until the sun started peaking through the courtains.
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Jaemin `~ He could swear agreeing to come pick you up had been the best decision of his life.
You had just got out of your best friend's party and were a bit tipsy. Jaemin had never really seen you like this before but boy was he in for a treat. He had always found you extremely entertaining but the drinks seemed to have taken away your inhibitions, complete nonsense coming out of your mouth. He almost had to stop the car a few times from how hard he was chuckling.
Right now you were ranting about how hard relationships were and how happy you were for not being in one.
"Hate to break it to you, baby, but we're dating." He interrupted.
"Oh- yes! You're right! About that- don't get me wrong, I really, really loooove PDA..." He glanced at you curiously before looking back at the road, intrigued.
"However-... I prefer it when we're alone." You concluded your confession with hesitation, not wanting to hurt his feelings, but Jaemin could only smile at your words.
"Damn, I always knew English wasn't your biggest strenght but you know what PDA stands for, right?"
"Of course I do" You answered dramatically, taking his words to heart. "Public display of affection." You stated proudly.
You really were a mess tonight and if you kept talking, then he was sure his cheeks would start hurting from smiling so much. You really were going to be the death of him...
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Chenle `~ You and Chenle had plopped on the couch after having lunch together and had no intentions of getting up any time soon. Both of you barely moved the entire evening, just lazily scrolling through your phones.
Getting bored of every other app on your phone, you clicked on twitter. When you saw a tweet announcing Seventeen's new comeback you let out an excited squeal, catching Chenle’s attention. He raised an eyebrow at you but decided not to question it, simply smiling at your cuteness before going back to the game on his phone.
The way he looked at you had made you a bit shy, but all of that was forgotten when you came across a certain fancam.
Your eyes slightly widened at the sight, your boyfriend really was a great performer, no matter how many times you watched him on stage, you would always find it mindblowing. Not to mention this choreo had always been one of your favourites and damn, you really were a sucker for his black hair...
Before you knew it, you had seen the damned video 4 times already. It was muted but you could swear you could listen to it perfectly in your head.
Nevertheless, you decided to unmute it, instanly regretting it when the sound blasted off your phone. Slightly panicking you paused the fancam but, much to your dismay, Chenle had already recognized the song.
This made him move closer to you, glancing at your phone only to confirm his suspicions. He stared at you with a look of disbelief, nodding in disappointment.
"For fuck's sake, Y/N, it's been 2 years already! Get over it!" He shouted jokingly before getting up and leaving your side.
"I just think Ridin' was your best era, okay?" You called out just as loud, confessing dramatically what he already knew.
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Jisung `~ He hated morning recording sessions. He had to go on the SUV all alone and sing the same lines over and over again while barely awake. Today's session had wasted 3 hours of his day, but fortunately he was now finally free.
Jisung arrived to the dorm only to find you already there, on the kitchen table with two cups of coffee and a pile of pancakes on a plate. He awed at the way you not only had gotten up super early, but also had been waiting for him so you could eat breakfast together.
At that moment he swore you were the best friend anyone could ever ask for.
"What's all of this?" He asked as he sat in the chair in front of you. You felt yourself softening upon hearing his raspy voice.
You and Jisung were very close but it wasn't often that you'd be so straightforward at expressing your affection towards each other.
That being said, you were truly taking a risk by setting this whole scene up, which didn't go unnoticed by your best friend, who couldn't help but wonder if your actions had any kind of second intentions. And although you didn't really want to admit it... deep down you guessed they did.
"Ahmn..." You pondered your next words. "I just like you, I guess..." You shrugged it off, deciding to keep the situation nonchalant.
Your sudden confession was subtle (and painfully honest), yet broad enough to leave the boy wondering if your words meant something more. And they did, but he didn't have to know it just yet.
Little did you know that Jisung was fighting the urge to reveal that he felt the same exact way about you. <3
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I'm sorry if you find this request sensitive, it's totally alright if you don't feel comfortable writing it...
But if it's alright with you, could you write about a almost suicidal hero? Who really can't die because of duties. But it's clear in their mannerisms what they are plotting... Not eating properly, self harm cuts, being super reckless in battles etc...
And a villian who hasn't seen their hero for like 3 months finally breaking into their home, seeing the hero in that condition, and taking them to their lair to take care of them.
It dawning onto them how they almost lost their hero, and completely breaking down before them. Then doing just anything possible to bring back the light on their face.
tw: mention of suicide
Actually, the villain wanted to say a simple “hi” as greeting. But they couldn’t bring themselves to form any words. They just stared at their bruised hero who was silently reading Dostoyevsky.
“Do you want to sit down?” they asked without looking up from their book. The villain remembered reading a few pages in a copy like the hero’s.
“What happened here?” the villain whispered. The hero didn’t answer, so the villain decided to clarify. “Did someone break in?”
Again, there was no answer, so the villain dropped the topic. Truth be told, the hero’s apartment wasn’t as nice as it used to be. The villain had been there once when their nemesis had kidnapped them months ago.
Books were everywhere — which wasn’t a bad thing but the amount was disturbing and concerning — primarily written in English, Ancient Greek, Latin but there were also others in different languages.
Everything was messy, it smelled like death and abandonment. It smelled like burnt toast and mouldy coffee.
So, the villain asked the obvious question, the one they’d been avoiding.
They’d learnt that people hated obvious questions. Someone wounded wasn’t very keen on hearing “Are you hurt?”
“What happened to you?” The hero laughed dryly as answer and closed the book. Finally, they looked up at the villain, their eyes weirdly glassy and sunken in.
“Would it be very dramatic to say that life happened to me?” they asked.
“I don’t think life means rotting in one’s home,” the villain said. It broke their heart to see the hero like this.
“Well, then you’re wrong. You’re rotting your whole life. Life is decaying.” The villain didn’t say a word at first. Where was the bubbly and energetic hero they’d known once? The one who told stories, not the one who was hinting at depressing philosophy.
“You read too much.”
“I don’t read enough,” the hero hissed. Their gaze was indifferent and cold. It hurt.
“It’s wonderful that you have a new hobby to kill time but I haven’t seen you in months and you look ill. I was worried about you, I’ve heard about some risky manoeuvres you’ve tried recently.”
The hero sighed.
“What do you care?”
“I missed fighting you,” the villain said. They weren’t the one who needed to be questioned. They didn’t want to be questioned. They shouldn’t be questioned. “Would you just please tell me what’s going on with you? There was no word from you all these months.”
“Oh, you know. Nothing much happened, I was just reading a lot…” The hero began to talk about a lot of things, just not about what the villain wanted to hear. They managed to form with their words a quick summary and analysis of their favourite Shakespearean sonnet but it was rather stuffy to listen to.
Meanwhile, the villain dared to let their eyes wander. But as soon as they fell on the hero’s forearms, they wished they hadn’t.
The villain stretched out their arm and slowly lifted the loose end of the horrible bandage. It happened so fast, the hero didn’t realise it at first, they assumed.
And the villain saw enough to know what was going on. Quickly, they pulled back, eyes wide open, their breathing heavy.
The hero had stopped talking about Shakespeare and was staring into nothing.
“You’ll come with me.”
“It’s nothing,” the hero answered, their eyes suddenly piercing through them.
“Doesn’t look like nothing.”
“I am fine.”
“You’re hurting yourself,” the villain said. “I am not a psychiatrist but you don’t seem fine.”
Their voice shook. And then they felt the tear rolling down their cheek. The realisation hit them harder than they wanted to admit.
“Oh god, are you planning on killing yourself?!” They gasped for air. They needed something to hold onto. They wanted to throw up. No, they wanted to scream. They wanted to cry and curse. They wanted to shake the hero and shout at them what in god’s name had forced them to do this.
The hero nodded slowly to answer the villain’s question.
“My sidekick’s training is coming to an end next week. After that, there isn’t anything for me to do anymore.”
The villain broke down in front of them and with that, they revealed every little feeling, admitted every little thought and confessed every little fear.
They hoped it would be enough to save their first love.
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