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neymarsangel · 10 months

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Car Troubles - Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!reader

Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!reader

Requested? Yes/No: Anon: Can you do an angst with Charles where the reader is a Verstappen and lots of brother max🥺🥺🥺

Summary: Ferrari can’t keep their car on track and Charles can’t keep his emotions on the track.

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Angst, fluff, swearing, Max on a rampage.

—

When Max found out you and Charles were dating he wasn’t precisely best pleased, how could he be? His little sister was in bed with the man who’d been his rival since his karting days. Although Max was kinder to Charles now than he was back then he would still give Charles a rough time on the track or the cold shoulder at family dinners. Just because Charles was dating his sister didn’t mean he’d like him.

For the past few months, Ferarri hadn’t been performing as well as they should be and the moment the car stopped breaking down Charles would make a mistake and land himself with another DNF. The pair of you had been dating for over a year now and Max was very much aware of it. You moved in after four months leaving Max alone in his apartment, not that you were always away from your older brother and tonight was one of those nights.

Charles had returned from the race weekend pissed off beyond measure. The car had finally started to work and he’d spun out and hit the wall. He was leading the French GP and after his mistake, your brother went on to claim P1 which only pissed Charles off even more. He and you returned to Monaco rather hastily, saying nothing the entire flight home. Once you were in your shared apartment you finally decided to speak.

“Charles?”

“I don’t want to talk about it y/n.” His voice was stern as he threw his bags down without looking. His careless actions caused his bag to knock against your coffee table, hitting a vase Max had bought you. The water from the vase fell across the small table and leaked onto a scrapbook you’d left on the glass counted.

“Charles!” You screamed before running over to the table. “Be careful you’ll ruin it!” The scrapbook was a present from Charles. After you two had an argument over telling Max about you both, he created the book as a way to show you that he never wanted to hide you ever again. Every time you went on a date he’d make sure he got something as a souvenir so he could scrapbook it. He got to relive the memories, allowing him to relax after races.

“Who cares? It’s just a shitty book!” He snapped, running his hands through her hair.

“What did you say?” Your voice broke at his words.

“You heard, it’s just a shitty book with scraps of paper, it’s not important -”

“That book is about us, the book that you made! It is important.”

“You don’t know what’s important y/n.” He raised his voice. “You know what is important? Me winning this championship! I need to win this for me, for Ferarri, for my family… for all those fans that give their time, effort and money to me, I need to win it for them!” He took a deep breath. “I need to win it for you…”

“Charles I want you to win the championship but it won’t make me think any differently of you…”

“It should.” He snapped. “It’ll make me on the same level as your brother and I need to be fighting against Redbull… but you don’t get it.”

“Charles I do -”

“No, you don’t! You’re not in that car, your brother is. You’re just always there in the background, just waiting there for Max… never me -”

“That’s a lie and you know it!” Your voice grew. “I always watch the race in the Ferarri garages, I only leave when Max wins to congratulate him. He’s still my brother Charles.”

“You know sometimes when I lose I just want you there…” His voice was low as he spoke but that didn’t last long. “But you’ll never understand what that’s like.”

“Why? Because I’m not a driver?”

“Because you’ve never been in the spotlight, only the background.”

“Is that what I am to you?” Your brows arched at his words. “Just someone in the background?”

“Well… the journalists flock to your brother, not you.”

Being the sister of a Formula 1 driver had its perks but it also meant that every day you woke up knowing you would never be on the same level as your brother. Max was always praised by your mum and dad whereas you had to fight for even the smallest acknowledgement from your parents. It wasn’t that they didn’t care about your own achievements but more so that Max was always at the forefront when it came to outperforming you and Victoria.

You didn’t utter a word to him as you grabbed your bags once again but rather than heading to your front room you headed towards the door. “Where are you going?” Charles asked.

“Why do you care? I’m just in the background, aren’t I?”

“Oh come on y/n you know I didn’t mean it -”

“Are you sure about that Charles because you’re acting like it.”

“Look, I know you will never understand what it’s like being under so much pressure but -”

“Charles, do you know what it’s like to be compared to your brother who’s won a World Championship? Do you know what it’s like to have to constantly think of ways to be noticed by your own family for something whilst your brother is out on the track competing in one of the greatest sports in the world?” Taking a deep breath as you watched his mixed expression. “Maybe Arthur will understand.”

“Don’t bring Arthur into this -”

“Then don’t bring Max into this!”

“How can I not? He’s everywhere I turn! He makes stupid decisions on the track which resulted in me suffering!”

“Do not blame your incompetence on my brother!”

“My incompetence?” He laughed at your words. “Your brother’s a fucking idiot on that track, nearly kills everyone who even dares go near him!”

“At least Max knows how to stay on the track.” You knew it was a low blow but the way he was speaking to you, he deserved it.

“That was low y/n…”

“And calling me unimportant isn’t?”

“Well right now you’re not important y/n, you know what is? Running Redbull to the ground and winning this championship, nothing else matters right now.”

Charles was obsessed with winning, he always felt the need to prove himself to everyone around him despite his friends and family knowing he was capable of what he wished to achieve but he knew that didn’t matter. With fans and the press constantly hounding him and Ferrari to be better you knew it was them he wanted to appease, not himself.

“Fine.” You didn’t utter another word as you opened the door and left him standing alone in your apartment. Tears pricked your eyes as you dragged your bags into the lift. You knew that if you stayed the two of you would only rip one another’s heads off even more than you already have.

Monaco wasn’t exactly small so it wouldn’t take long to get to Max’s building meanwhile Charles was left alone with his thoughts. He’d fished the scrapbook from the water, treating it like an artefact at a museum as he slowly flicked through the pages, carefully inspecting which ones were damaged. Every time his eyes fell on the photos his heart sank. He knew he shouldn’t take out what was happening on the track onto you. You would support him at every turn and he knew what he said about you never being there for him was a lie. He spent the night drying the pages as best he could whilst he put them back together as they were before. He thought of sending you a text asking you if you were at Max’s safely, it didn’t take a genius to work out that you’d gone to see your brother about it, but he also knew if Max saw your phone he’d take it upon himself to reply.

When Max saw you his confused gaze softened into a sympathetic one. His arms opened as you fell against him in his doorway. Sobbing into his chest he slowly guided you into his apartment before speaking. “Want me to break check the cunt when he’s out cycling? Or I can shove him into the wall during the race next week? Then again he does that himself anyway…” You pulled back from Max, a small smile on your face at his words as you two sat down. “What happened?”

“It was just a stupid argument, it’s nothing.” You wiped your tears away with your sleeves but Max wasn’t convinced.

“It’s very rare you come running to me late at night because you’re upset.” He leant back in his chair. He had a point. Normally you and Charles would act cold with one another until either one of you apologised a mere few hours later but this time it felt different. He’d gotten personal and it had hurt. “You normally make up after a few hours and then I find out a week later so what was different this time?”

“He said I wasn’t important to him and that all his focus was on the Championship… he told me I wouldn’t understand and I get that - I’m not one of you and I know it’s important but I can understand to a certain degree how important it is but I thought he’d value what we have over that title.”

“I’ll kill him -”

“Max!”

“What?”

“He’s still my boyfriend.”

“Not one I like.”

“You don’t need to like him… more tolerate him.”

“I’m finding that hard right now.” Rolling his eyes he shifted his gaze back to you. “Has he even texted you? To make sure you got here safely?”

Sliding your phone out of your pocket you were met with a blank screen. “No -”

“Cunt.” Max spoke under his breath. “Have you eaten?”

“No -”

“Good, we’ll order in, watch a film, like we used to.” He smiled at the memories. When the two of you were younger every single Friday you would all watch a film and have a takeaway with your sister Victoria. It was the one night when the three of you were all together and could forget about your parent's divorce and the world around you.

You and Max spent the night talking about what happened whilst you two watched a Disney film, trying to forget the night. Unlike anyone else you were close with, Max knew how Charles felt when his car didn’t comply and when he made a mistake which lead to his race being ended. He would always give you a different perspective on your situation and most importantly, he’d listen to you. That was something a lot of people never saw, Max would always validate your feelings and tell you his own perspective on things when you needed it.

Eventually, you and Max called it a night and you headed into his spare room. Throwing your bags onto the bed you began to get ready for bed when your phone sounded from the cabinet.

Char <;3: Did you get to Max’s okay? X

You: I did x

Char <;3: When are you coming back? X

You: Is that why you texted? X

Char <;3: No I wanted to know that you were safe x

You: I left the house hours ago x

Char <;3: I know but I wanted to give you space x

You locked your phone, ignoring his last text. You knew you’d cause another argument with him about his text being a little too late but he’d already read your mind.

Char <3: Look I’m sorry I should’ve messaged you earlier but I didn’t want to make this any worse x

You: By making sure I wasn’t killed? Do you think you checking in on my well-being was going to make this worse? X

Char <;3: You’re right and I’m so sorry, I should’ve walked or driven you over myself. When are you coming home? X

You: I don’t know x

Char <;3: Please be safe. Take your time and I’ll see you soon and I’m sorry x

You: For not texting me or the argument we had? X

Char <3: Both x

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to go home to him but his words continued to play in your head over and over again like a broken record. Climbing into bed you glimpsed at your lock screen which was a photo of you and Charles after he’d won the Australian GP. He had the trophy in one hand but he was looking at you, his eyes full of love as he looked at you, completely ignoring the trophy in his hand.

You: I’ll message you later, goodnight Char. I love you x

Charles's heart jumped at the reply he got. He knew it was stupid considering the two of you had been in a relationship for years but after a fight like that, all he wanted was reassurance.

Char <;3: I love you too x

He knew he had to make it up to you, he’d fucked up and with Max as your brother, he knew he’d have to grovel.

—

You’d stayed with Max until the Hungarian GP, you knew you’d end up sharing a hotel with Charles. Max had offered to pay for another room for you but the truth was your heart ached to see your boyfriend again.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to buy you a room?” Max asked as he carried your things to the room you were set to share with Charles.

“I’m fine Max.” You smiled at him. “Besides they probably don’t have one free at this time-”

“Then you can take my room and I’ll share with Charles.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that would go down well.”

“Well…” Max smirked at his own words. “He wouldn’t have to worry about him crashing into a wall because he wouldn’t even make it to the car.”

“You’re horrible.” A smile tainted on your lip at your own words.

“Could be worse, remember what I did to your ex?” He smiled down at you. How could you forget? Your last boyfriend, Alexander, had cheated on you with a girl he claimed was ‘just a friend’. You walked in on the two of them in a compromising position only hours after he told you that he loved you. When Max found out there was nothing that could stop him. He stormed into his house and made sure he gave him two black eyes that wouldn’t shift for weeks.

“It would be harder to get away with if you did it to Charles, besides, we had an argument. It’s not like he cheated on me.”

“Well if that ever crosses his mind… it’ll be worse than two black eyes.”

You reached your room but just as you went to open the door a tall brunette swung the door open before you could even get your hand to it. His eyes met yours as you both stared at one another in silence for a second. Max coughed, breaking the two of you out of your trance.

“Max…” Charles glanced over to your brother who looked as if he was ready to kill him.

“Charles,” Max replied before turning to you. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with him? You can take my room.”

Charles looked as if he wanted to kill Max himself at his words. “I’m sure she’s fine with me,” Charles spoke up.

“You know she can talk for herself, Leclerc.”

“I’m aware.” Speaking through gritted teeth Charles seemed to have finally found his voice.

“I’ll be fine Max.” You looked between the two men. Charles quickly snatched your bags away from Max’s grasp, a smug smile on his lips as he watched Max take a step back in defeat.

“Text me if you need anything y/n, I’ll see you in the garages.” Max turned on his heel, his eyes not leaving Charles’s as he headed down the hallway.

Charles held the door open for you as you walked inside the room. He’d moved his things in but only to one side of the room like he did every single weekend. Even when you weren’t around it always became a habit for him. “How was your time with Max?” He spoke as he set your bags aside.

“Needed.” You replied. “How was your alone time?”

“Lonely.” He stepped closer to you. “I missed you.”

Looking up your eyes met his. “I missed you too.”

“I’m so sorry y/n. What I said, I didn’t mean it at all. Look, I was upset over the race, I feel like I’ll never be a World Champion and every single day I believe that I feel like I’m letting everyone down… especially you.”

“Charles I won’t love you any less if you aren’t a World Champion.”

“I know but… in the past, it's gotten too much and I’ve had people leave me or just become distant and I couldn’t take it if you decided to leave.”

“I’m not going to leave you I just want you to talk to me. I know I’m not a driver but my brother is and for years Max told me what it’s like and I know I’m not in the car but I can listen and understand as best I can, I’m sorry for what I said.”

Charles stepped closer, his hands resting on the sides of your face as he leaned down. “You are so important to me, more important than any stupid trophy.”

“I better be.” Your face broke into a smile as Charles leaned down and took your lips into his. He stood in between your legs as he deepened the kiss his hands going to your hair to pull you closer to him, acting like this was the last time he’d ever kiss you. Eventually, you both pulled away, and Charles straightened himself up.

“I have something for you.” Opening the drawer beside the bed he pulled out the scrapbook he’d made you. “It’s not just a book to me.” He handed it to you. “I fixed it as best I could, I’m sorry-”

“I think we should leave this page blank.” Cutting him off you pointed to a blank page. “For when you win the Championship, that way if you ever feel like you aren’t good enough then you can look back to this page, it might be blank for now but it’s a silent reminder of how much I believe in you, we all do.” You pecked his lips. “You might not believe it sometimes but everyone wants the best for you, especially your fans.”

“I don’t want to let them down.”

“And you won’t… Ferrari will.”

He laughed at your words, falling down beside you on the bed. “If only everyone thought how you did.”

—

“Are you spying on them?” A British accent made Max jump back from the door to yours and Charles’s room. Lando stood behind him with a confused expression.

“I’m just making sure he doesn’t make her cry.”

“I think he makes other things wet besides her eyes.” Lando laughed at himself. Turning to face him Max laughed alongside him before his expression changed in a heartbeat.

“Lando?”

“Yeah?”

“Make a joke like that about my sister again and I’ll cut your dick off.”

---

Buy me a coffee <3

#f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 x oc #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc angst

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dixons-sunshine · 6 days

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I Never Lived For The Applause | Daryl Dixon x Former!Celebrity!Fem!Reader

Summary: Before the world quite literally ended, you were a famously known singer. However, your celebrity status didn't do you much good in the apocalypse, despite most people in your group giving you privileges that you didn't want. Thankfully, a certain redneck archer treated you like a normal person, unwillingly becoming the guy who caught your attention.

Genre: Angst, fluff.

Era: The quarry; the farm; the prison.

Warnings: Swearing, usual TWD warnings, suggestive themes.

Word count: 3.9k.

A/n: Okay but the former!celebrity!reader x Daryl was such a unique idea that an anon requested! I never would've thought about that on my own. I thought that this idea would be great combined with a few other requests, and this was born. There's a few time jumps and this is honestly not the best. I scrapped over 1500 words and this is all over the place, and it was supposed to be smut, and I don't really like this, but I hope you like it nonetheless.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Before the apocalypse came to be, you were a famous singer and songwriter. You had multiple hit singles that made the charts and your concerts always sold out. It seemed like wherever you would turn, there would be someone there who would want an autograph or a picture. It seemed like you could never escape the spotlight.

Not even now, when the dead started rising and the world came to an end.

“Amy, I told you, I'm fine. I don't want your food. You need it more than I do.”

Amy shook her head defiantly, practically shoving the paper plate into your hands. “I insist. You're my idol, and I'll be damned if I let my idol go hungry when I have food I can give her.”

You sighed and reluctantly accepted the plate. “This is unnecessary. I already had my share, sweetheart. You don't have to give me yours when you also have to eat.”

“I'm fine. Rather me than you.”

Before you could protest, Andrea called Amy's name. Amy gave you an apologetic smile and bid you farewell, walking over to her sister and leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sighed and turned around, heading over to the tent you shared with your daughter. You opened the flap and stepped inside, seeing your twelve year old daughter, Nicolette, busy sketching in her sketchbook.

She looked up when she heard you step inside, sending you a smile. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, Nic,” you greeted her, sitting down on your cot opposite hers. “Why aren't you outside with the other kids?”

Nicolette shook her head, closing her sketchbook and sitting up in her cot. “Most of them treat me funny. They keep asking me if I can sing or if I can write songs, and if I got free stuff because you were famous. Only Carl and Sophia treat me like I'm a normal kid, but they're with their mom's right now.”

You sighed, guilt gnawing at you from the inside. Never once did you regret having your daughter, but sometimes you regretted having to raise her while you were in the spotlight. The paparazzi were relentless, and your daughter more often than not had to pay the price for that. It was unfair, and you wished that you could've just faded from the spotlight to raise your daughter in peace.

“I'm sorry, baby. If I knew back then what my fame could do to you, I never would have signed on with that record label. I wish I could take it back.”

Nicolette shook her head. She got up from her cot and sat down next to you, leaning her head on your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around her, placing a tender kiss on her head.

“It's not your fault, Mom. I don't blame you. You shouldn't, either.”

You shook your head. “That's easier said than done,” you replied, before adopting a more lighthearted tone. “But let's not talk about that. I've got some more food for you if you're hungry.”

Nicolette smiled at you and nodded eagerly. “I'm starving. Thanks, Mom.”

You smiled at her. However, before you could respond, a ruckus could be heard outside your tent. Both yours and your daughter's heads snapped in the direction of the two voices, instantly going quiet to hear what was happening.

“M'tellin ya, man. S'a fuckin' waste of time. We should jus' cut our losses here and scram. Take a few guns and food fer the road.”

“Merle, fer the last fuckin' time, we can't leave righ' now. It's too dangerous. We should wait 'til the heat dies down 'fore we go.”

“Wha' m'hearin' s'tha' yer a pussy. Wha's the matter, Darylina? Scared the geeks will get ya? 'Cause yer too incompetent to handle 'em?”

“Fuck off, Merle! It ain't like tha'. I jus' dun' wanna risk our lives if we dun' need to.”

“Whatever, man. M'goin' back to the tent.”

The man who's name you had learnt to be Merle left, his retreating footsteps growing fainter until you couldn't hear them anymore. However, you could clearly see the silhouette of the other man still outside your tent. You could hear him quietly muttering to himself.

Turning to Nicolette, you gently placed the plate with the food—cooked squirrel with some beans—onto her lap and stood up. You turned to her and leaned down to place a sweet kiss to her forehead.

“Eat up and get ready for bed. I'll be right back and then we'll continue reading that book.”

Nicolette nodded, and with that, you exited your tent. The man stood with his back to you, but a simple slight twitch of his head in your direction showed that he had heard you. His body stiffened visibly, and you frowned at that.

“Hey. You're Daryl, right?” you asked him, prompting the man to turn around.

However, he didn't meet your gaze, finding great interest in the ground below. He simply grunted his acknowledgement, a slight upwards nudge of his nose confirming your question.

“I'm Y/n. It's nice to officially meet you,” you introduced yourself, extending your hand to his for a handshake. Daryl made no move to shake it, however, making you awkwardly retract your hand. “I, uh, just wanted to say that you were right.”

“Wha'?” Daryl asked in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing. He hadn't meant for the question to slip from his lips, trying to just remain quiet until you got the message that he was in no mood to socialise, but he failed.

“That argument you had with your brother. You were right. It's way too dangerous to wander off on your own right now. Personally I feel like you shouldn't be wanting to go at all because it's safer with a group, but that's not my call to make. Just thought I'd let you know that your instincts are right. Don't listen to your brother.”

Daryl was confused by your niceness. He was even more confused by the fact that you agreed with him. He was so used to women taking Merle's side instead of his all the time, so this was something entirely new for him.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” he replied awkwardly, nervously chewing on his lower lip.

You smiled at him before nodding. “Okay, well, just wanted to tell you that. Oh, and to ask you not to argue in front of my tent again. I have a twelve year old in there who doesn't need to hear all of that.”

Daryl ducked his head, an embarrassed blush flushing over his face. “Sorry.”

“I guess I can let it slide this time,” you said with a smile. “And thanks for the squirrel. Thanks to you, my daughter doesn't have to go to bed hungry tonight. Never thought we'd have to resort to eating squirrel, but it's not that bad. It's actually kinda delicious. It's way better than—” Realising that you were busy rambling, you shook your head and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Just, thank you.”

Daryl didn't know why, but he felt an unexplainable pull to you. Maybe it was the way you showed him kindness without even knowing him, or maybe it was the fact that you were the only one who seemed to actually appreciate the food he brought back from his hunts, even if it was squirrels. Despite their hunger, everyone else mostly refused to eat anything he brought back if it wasn't deer. Yet there you were, thanking him for bringing back something as mediocre as squirrel.

And it certainly didn't help that he found you absolutely radiant.

“S'nothin',” he finally responded. “M'jus' glad yer lil' girl can eat tonigh'.”

“You're the one who brought back the squirrels?”

At the sound of a small voice, both you and Daryl turned around to face your daughter. Nicolette walked up to your side and beamed brightly up at Daryl, catching him off guard. The other kids in the camp were terrified of him and wouldn't even glance in his direction, yet this kid was not only looking at him, but willingly talking to him.

“Yes, he is,” you confirmed, smiling fondly down at your daughter.

Nicolette looked up at Daryl, realisation dawning on her. “You're the man with the crossbow! And the vest with the angel wings! You're so cool, sir. Do you think I could maybe shoot your crossbow one time? It's okay if you say no, but can I maybe see how you shoot it so that when I get my own crossbow one day, I know how to use it? Or—”

Daryl's lips subconsciously twitched up into a smile. Her rambling was so similar to yours. Like mother, like daughter, he thought to himself as he looked between the two of you. There were over a dozen similarities between you and Nicolette. She looked just like you.

You placed a hand on Nicolette's shoulder, halting her rambling. You turned to Daryl, giving him a smile. “We should probably get ready for bed. Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Night, Daryl!” Nicolette greeted him enthusiastically, following you into the tent.

“Night,” he whispered.

“Oh, and by the way, don't be a stranger. I'd love to see more of you.”

Daryl blushed and ducked his head. He hummed, not trusting his voice at that moment in time.

You smiled and finally entered the tent, zipping the tent closed behind you. He stood there for a couple of moments before turning and walking back to his own shared tent with Merle.

Daryl couldn't explain it, but for some reason, in that short conversation, he felt drawn to you. It was unnerving, but felt nice at the same time. And your daughter was downright an angel, your exact copy.

“Wha' were ya doin', sniffin' 'round tha' popstar?” Merle asked when Daryl entered the tent, catching him off guard. Daryl had assumed that Merle would've been passed out by now, high off of whatever drug he was using that night.

“Popstar? Wha' the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?” Daryl questioned, plopping himself down on his cot.

“Tha' woman ya were talkin' to, she was a singer 'fore all this. Real famous, too. Used to see her on TV and in magazine's all the time.”

Daryl's mind swarmed with questions. You were a famous singer? How the hell did you end up there, with a bunch of nobodies? And why had you thanked him for bringing back something as simple as a squirrel? If you were famous, you had probably eaten banquets of the richest, most delicious food out there, yet you enjoyed squirrel? And to top it off, why would you willingly want to hang out with him of all people?

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Daryl, oh my god.”

At the sound of your panicked voice, Daryl slowly sat upright in the bed in the guest bedroom. He looked up and locked eyes with you, seeing the worry written all over your face. You hurriedly sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and gingerly reached out to touch the bandage around his side, careful not to add too much pressure and hurt him.

“M'fine, sunshine. Dun' have to worry 'bout me,” he replied, waving off your concern and gently grabbing your hand to push it away from the bandage.

You scoffed in disbelief and shook your head. “You're my friend, Daryl. Of course I'm going to worry about you. I care about you, and you expect me to not worry?” you asked, bringing your hand up to gently caress his cheek.

Friend. That word reminded Daryl of how you viewed him. It had been two months since your first interaction at the quarry and his affection and attraction to you had only grown stronger. However, it seemed to him like his feelings weren't reciprocated, so he settled on being your friend.

Little did he know that you felt the exact same way. You just didn't know it yet.

“Heard ya punched Andrea fer shootin' me. Any truth to those rumours?” Daryl asked, diverting the attention away from his now pounding heart as your fingers gently pushed his hair back.

You smiled sheepishly. “My hand slipped?” you tried, shrugging your shoulders.

Daryl smirked slightly and shook his head. “Sure. Whatever ya say, sunshine.”

You let out a sigh, reluctantly drawing your hand back from his hair. “She had it coming. We told her not to shoot and she didn't listen, trying to boost her own ego instead. She almost killed you, Daryl. That's not something she should be allowed to get away with, but Rick and Shane aren't gonna do anything, so I took matters into my own hands.”

Daryl smiled softly. “Not bad fer a popstar.”

You giggled. “Hey, I got into a couple of fights before my career took off. I know my stuff. I know how to shoot a gun, too, but that's a discussion for another day.”

Daryl chuckled and nodded. He shifted back against the headboard and gazed at you, simply admiring your beauty for a moment. It amazed him that a beautiful, kind, caring, smart woman like you would ever wanna be associated with the likes of him. You were perfect and he was, well, him. It didn't make sense, but he dared not to question it.

“Can I ask ya somethin' personal?” he blurted out before he could think about it.

You nodded at him. “Sure.”

“When ya talk 'bout yer career, it sounds like ya hated it. Why'd ya become a singer if ya hated it so much?”

You remained silent for a minute. Daryl feared that he had asked the wrong thing and was about to apologise, but you spoke up.

“I was nineteen when I signed with my first record label. I didn't want to be in the spotlight because singing was more of a hobby to me, but my parents forced me to. Growing up, there wasn't ever really any money around and my parents made it out like it was my fault. They made me feel like I owed them for everything they did for me, and they forced me to sign with that record label. My parents were my managers and all the money I earned for the songs I wrote and sang basically went to them. That went on for a couple of years until I met Nic's father. He was a bass player in a band I was collaborating with. I fell in love way too quickly, jumped into bed with him when he made an advancement and ended up pregnant. The guy didn't want kids and bolted, leaving me a single mom. My parents hated that and basically disowned me.”

“M'sorry to hear tha',” Daryl replied sympathetically. He didn't really know how to respond; he never knew that about you. You chose to keep your life before you had Nicolette private, and he respected that. He had his own demons he preferred to keep quiet.

“It's okay,” you reassured him, shaking your head. “He was an asshole. And I was better off without my parents. I managed to sign with a decent enough record label and the rest was history. I got a ton of backlash from haters for being a single mom. There were even rumours that I had cheated and that's why the guy left me, but that wasn't true. But none of that matters anymore. My reputation doesn't matter anymore. All that matters now is keeping my daughter safe and keeping the people I care about alive. People like you.”

“Ya shouldn't care 'bout me. S'a bad idea.”

“Well, bad idea or not, I care about you. And so does Nic.”

As if being summoned, Nicolette knocked on the door and hesitantly stepped inside. Daryl adjusted the covers over his body and sent her a tight-lipped smile. Nicolette gave him a small smile back but he could clearly tell it was strained. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying.

“Are you okay?” Nicolette asked, crossing her arms over her chest as if to make herself appear smaller.

“M'fine, kiddo. Dun' worry 'bout me,” he reassured her. “Hershel fixed me righ' up. I'll be outta here in no time.”

Nicolette looked to you for confirmation, and you nodded. “He's right. He'll be fine. Some antibiotics and he'll be up and at it in three days. You'll see.”

“Okay,” she nodded, her eyes flickering between you and Daryl. “I'm glad you're not dead, Daryl.”

Daryl chuckled at the girls forwardness. “M'glad m'not dead, too.”

You smiled at the small interaction between Daryl and Nicolette, your heart swelling with fondness. You stood up from the bed and motioned for Nicolette to follow you.

“C'mon, baby. Let's leave Daryl to get some rest, okay?”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could maybe stay?” she asked timidly, nervously fiddling with her hands. “It's just... I wanna stay.”

You looked at Daryl, and he shrugged nonchalantly. Despite his nonchalance, Daryl's heart swelled with fondness. This little girl, who owed him nothing, wanted to stay with him. He couldn't believe it.

“Okay, you can stay for a while. I'll be back later, okay?” you relented.

She nodded and sat down on the chair. You gave Daryl's hand one last squeeze before heading out, sparing one last look at the two. Nicolette was starting to retell some of the events of what her and Carl had gotten up to that day, and Daryl hummed in acknowledgement before looking up and locking eyes with you.

With one last parting smile, you headed out and made your way back to the tents. On your way there, a startling realisation hit you like a ton of bricks, one that would change the way you saw Daryl forever. Despite the fact that he could be snappy at times, and that he was known for being grumpy, he treated you with respect. He didn't care about who you were before the end of the world. He didn't care about your mistakes, about if you were famous or not. That didn't matter to him. He only saw you, the person behind the old tabloids, and he had become close with your daughter. He even took the time out of his day to teach her how to use his crossbow, even if she was a slow learner. And in that moment, you realised something:

You had feelings for him.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Y'know, m'glad Nic didn't have to meet her father. She's better off.”

You turned your head to Daryl, a look of confusion spreading across your features. “I agree with you, but why do you say that? You didn't know the man.”

Daryl shrugged, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing the smoke away from you. “Ya said back at Hershel's tha' he never wanted kids. If he had stuck 'round, god knows wha' he would've done to her.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, turning your attention back to the darkness ahead of you. “She is better off.”

The night was relatively quiet, save for the distant sound of walkers groaning outside the prison's fences. Daryl was on watch that night in the guard tower, and you had taken the initiative to join the archer that night. Everyone else had retreated into the prison for the night, leaving only you and Daryl awake.

“So are we gon' tell Nic 'bout us or not?” Daryl broke the silence, taking the last drag from his cigarette before putting it out next to him. “S'been over a month now. She deserves to know.”

Unbidden, flashes of that night a month ago arose in your mind. The feeling of his lips on yours, his hands exploring your body and the way he felt pressed against you. The feeling of your bodies becoming one was one that you wouldn't forget anytime soon, but the one memory you'd hold with you forever was the confession from the man next to you. After the heated, pleasurable moment you'd spent together, feelings were revealed, and you and the archer had unofficially started your relationship. You had both agreed to keep it a secret, but Nicolette was starting to get suspicious about the two of you.

“I'm okay with telling her tomorrow. She deserves to finally have confirmation on her suspicions,” you told him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “She already sees you as her dad, anyways.”

Daryl couldn't argue with that. Flashes of his own arose in his mind. A couple of days ago, he had returned from a run, battered and bruised. He could barely walk and both you and Nicolette were distraught. However, after he was patched up and resting in his cell and you were up in the guard tower for your shift, Nicolette had come to him in tears. He had hugged her tightly to his chest, acutely aware that she was transported back to that day on the farm when he had been shot. That night was the night Nicolette had confirmed that she saw Daryl as a father figure.

“Please don't leave. My mom needs you. I need you. We both need you in our lives. Please, Daryl.”

In that moment, even though she didn't know yet that you and Daryl were together, he knew that he wouldn't be able to live without either of you. You both were his entire world. Nicolette was his little girl. You were his partner, and there was no way he was letting either of you go.

“Dun' worry, Nic. I ain't goin' nowhere. I promise ya tha'.”

Shaken from his thoughts by your lips on his exposed shoulder, he turned his head to you, coming face to face with a mischievous smirk. He instantly knew what that smirk meant, and he helped you climb onto his lap.

“But,” you began, pulling his attention back to your previous discussion. “Let's worry about that tomorrow. Tonight, it's just me and you.”

Daryl smirked and attached his lips to yours. You may have been a popstar before the apocalypse, a celebrity living in a mansion, but in that moment, you were simply you. The woman Daryl cared for deeply, the woman Daryl was never gonna let go of.

Because in that moment, you were nothing but his.

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dreamonminecraft · 2 years

Text

Well I successfully slacked off all of April

#over 30 fics posted in March #and not a single one in April #i have so many drafts guys i need to just scrap some of them and put the ideas back in a list #but even that seems too daunting #I think the fact that the Reddit spotlight appears to have just not happened really crushed me #like really ? :/#i put a fucking lot of effort into that and it just kinda disappeared #whatever I'll get something written eventually #the more i think about it the more shit i feel #the burnout is real

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stirpicus · 1 month

Note

two questions!

1-what was the scrapped lore reason for the sky city portal being in Jesse's world (as you mentioned exploring that if it never got explained?)

2-I forget if you've mentioned it before but what's the Sidekick Academy?

1 - We had considered the idea that maybe it was the portal that Soren first used to enter Jesse’s world but it opened up too many other questions and ultimately just wasn’t very interesting to make a concrete answer.

2 - So I’ve talked about this in bits and pieces, but Jack’s backstory is that he was a scrappy wannabe hero in a town that was like a superhero story and a fantasy world blended into one - Taverns and quests and things but with more outlandish characters with gimmicks and things. This town had a big academy for heroes that was very tough to get into, and also a school for the sidekicks that weren’t good enough to be heroes or just didn’t want to be in the spotlight. That sidekick academy is where Jack and Vos met - Vos was a potions and enchantments expert who wanted to be on the sidekick track, and Jack was stuck as a “stick boy”, gathering the sticks to make swords and other equipment for the heroes. He really, really, wanted to be on the hero track, but he was just too impulsive and also didn’t have a “gimmick” like a lot of other heroes. He just.. wanted to help people. He finally gets his shot when a big bad villain comes to town who drains the power from heroes so only the sidekicks are left to save the day. This was also the adventure where they met Nurm (the latest in a long line of talenting mapmakers who is in a broody emo phase of rejecting his family business, and who they need to talk into helping them make a map to follow the big bad) and Sammy (a master thief and con artist who could be a hero and star of the hero academy if she didn’t think they were all such dorks)

#MCSM #MCSM jack

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seonghwaddict · 9 months

Text

★ NEVER SAY NEVER. [ 009 ] flowers on vines.

synopsis. something about the eight most well-known boys of your campus just didn't sit right with you, so you never gave any effort to interact with them. but after a series of… interesting incidents, they can't seem to leave you alone. pairing. college students! vampires! ot8! ateez x fem! reader. genre. fluff, angst, eventual smut, college au, vampire au. chapter warnings. mildly suggestive content, implication of size kink. word count. 3k

　　　　　　　　chapter viii // chapter ix // chapter x

With a week left for the project, thirteen out of the fourteen had come and gone with the snap of a finger. You were aware time seemed to go so fast because of the person you were partnered with. Wooyoung had a way of getting the most stubborn of people to have the most fun. Meeting with him—and his friends, or, you supposed, your friends—nearly every day a week for months, it wasn’t a surprise that it went by so quickly.

You worked very well together, a shock to you initially but after getting so close to him it made sense. Not to mention how close you’ve gotten to his friends, who you now also considered some of your own best friends and loved. Not that you loved them, but you thought they were cool and fun and nice and unbelievably handsome and-

Your thoughts were quickly cut off by a knock on your studio door that cut through the music playing from your bluetooth speaker. Well, “studio” was a bit of an exaggeration.

When you and Sangmi first moved into this apartment, it became apparent to the two of you that there was an extra room. Of course, knowing that she was a dance student and probably practised for the majority of the day, you let her have the extra room but she quickly shot you down and told you to use it for your art instead. It wasn’t spacious enough to be a dance studio, anyway.

There was space for your assortment of shelves and easels, a long table stretched the length of the wall under the single window in the room, paint tubes, brushes and palette knives scattered all over the surface and various filled sketchbooks, new and scrapped canvases crammed just below the table on the equally long shelf.

You set a small couch next to the door, the wall behind it decorated with several of your paintings you favoured over the others. Sometimes, while you were working, you let Sangmi sit on the couch and relax, either watching you or doing something of her own as you enjoyed each other’s presence.

You set your paintbrush down next to your palette on the table and wiped your paint stained hands on a cloth before opening the door.

“Hey, I’m gonna go to the dance studio for a few hours.” Sangmi told you as you stepped aside to let her in. She looked at the painting of Wooyoung you were working on, the reference picture a screenshot of the dance video he filmed, taped to the top part of the easel. “Oh, it’s coming along so well!”

Over the past weeks she’s been checking on you and your progress, reminding you to eat whenever you get too carried away with painting. She’s seen all the stages and all the discarded versions of the painting, as well as all your frustration when you couldn’t get things to look quite right.

The canvas was fairly large, a magnificent oil painting of Wooyoung finally living up to your visions on the fabric—so you figured there wouldn’t be a need for smaller paintings as well. The dance was a contemporary one, choreographed to a song that made use of traditional instruments and performed on the stage of the university’s auditorium. The part you chose to paint was an almost breathtaking point of the choreography where he switched from sharp movements to an almost trance-like slowness, looking up with one hand elegantly reaching upwards. There was no denying his talent.

The lighting from the stage’s spotlight was already dramatic, but you tweaked it on your canvas, adding more contrast and a soft glow to his illuminated features to create a more jarring effect. He looked ethereal with the way you painted him.

A couple minutes later, Sangmi left and you could continue painting in peace. Well, until the doorbell rang, at least. With a groan, you set your paintbrush down and walked into the hall to see who you needed to buzz in. As soon as you saw who was waiting outside the building, your eyes lit up and you wasted no time in hitting the button to unlock the door.

You practically ran to the bathroom to wash the paint off your fingers. By the time he arrived at your door, you already cleaned yourself up a bit and made a bit of an effort to sort out your messy hair. With a deep breath, you opened the door and practically threw yourself on him.

“Gosh, I thought I’d never see you again!” You pretended to cry into his chest as your embraced him tightly.

But Yunho only chuckled, ruffling your hair. “Oh, don’t be dramatic.”

You were only half joking. With you focused on your painting and him having to attend shootings and rehearsals for the end of year movie of the acting students, you hadn’t seen each other in a while. Each of the artistic majors had some kind of collaborative showcase near the end of the year; this year art majors and dancers worked together, the film majors worked with the actors, and the music majors worked with the theatre students. For that reason, you couldn’t find a lot of time to see half of the boys in general.

“That’s an ironic thing to say for an actor.” You stepped away from him with a giddy laugh, noticing the bags in his hand and pointing at them. “What’s that?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Yunho smiled and walked past you to set the bags on the small breakfast table between the kitchen and living area. “I brought food. I didn’t know what you wanted,” he began taking different containers out of the bags, “so I got a variety—some soups, tteokbokki, fried chicken, japchae, gimbap and, of course, rice.”

“Thank you so much, but really didn’t have to get all this-“

He cut you off with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry about it, I want to treat you to some delicious food.”

After a moment of you biting your lips with uncertainty, you nodded gratefully and moved to the kitchen to grab utensils and bowls.

The two of you conversed comfortably as you stuffed yourselves full with the food he brought. You asked about the movie but he’d only give you answers so vague he may not have said anything at all; “What is it about?” “Well, you know, characters and stuff.” “Yunho, please!” “Ok, ok, fine… it’s a romance and involves characters.”

Though you didn’t really notice it, he paid a lot of attention to you. Whether you were talking or just eating, he was constantly taking notes in his mind. When you briefly mentioned a movie you liked, he later reminded himself to watch it when he had the time. Or when your eyes gave a slightly different reaction to a particular dish that showed you enjoyed it, he later reminded himself to make sure to order that dish next time he brings you food. Even when he was the one talking, he was so focused on the warmth in your face as you listened to him that he nearly lost his train of thought several times.

You told him about the progress of your painting, but adamantly refused to show it to him even when he begged so prettily. However, he quickly quelled his curiosity as you said something about wanting to surprise him and the rest of the guys. Something unfamiliar in his chest clenched when you giggled at his pout, reaching your hand over to pat his forearm.

“But I want to see your paintings!” He huffed jokingly, making you laugh again.

“I can just paint something for you out here.”

He seemed to be considering the offer for a while and then his pout disappeared, his eyes lighting up even though there was a darker glint in his eyes you couldn’t quite decipher. A smirk spread across his face.

“What if… you paint me?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ve thought about using you as a reference so-”

“No, no, you misunderstood me,” he let out a mischievous little chuckle that twisted your stomach, “I mean, what if you paint on me?”

“O-oh…” Mildly surprised by the request, you blinked. “Are you, um… are you sure you’d want that?”

His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you. “Of course I do! But if you don’t feel comfortable doing it, you don’t have to.”

With a newfound determination to make him happy, you nodded and got up, telling him to stay where he was seated while you went to grab some paint. Deciding oil paints weren’t the best idea, you settled on gouache, something between watercolour and acrylic that would wash off easily. You grabbed a few clean brushes and walked out with everything in your hands.

The sight that waited for you in the living room had your breath caught in your throat. Yunho was still there, as you had asked, but he had gone to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to lay on the floor.

He was on top of the towel.

Laying face down.

Shirtless.

You were glad he wasn’t facing you, otherwise he would’ve seen the way you had to turn around to pull yourself together. There was no denying how well-built Yunho’s body was—or any of their bodies, in fact—but seeing it so bare, despite only seeing his back, did things to you. For the sake of the friendship, you swallowed down the nervousness bubbling inside you and turned back around, grabbing a cup of water and a small towel from the kitchen before walking to where he laid himself down and kneeling next to his body.

You set your supplies next to you and took a breath. He sensed you next to him and turned his head to look at you sideways.

“Something wrong, tiny?”

The nickname only added into that static feeling of nervousness but you still shook your head, beginning to dip one of the brushes in water. “Everything’s fine, just relax, please.”

Yunho nodded and sighed softly, turning his head to the other side and closing his eyes. As you inspected your colour palette, you took a moment to think of what to paint on him. What would he like?

Finally, you decided to just let your hands take over instead of thinking about it too carefully. Knowing him, he’d be happy no matter what you decided to draw. Holding your breath, you let the brush lathered with paint touch his skin. There was no mistaking the way the hair at the nape of his neck stood up with goosebumps as he shivered ever so slightly. You briefly apologised about the paint being cold, but he didn’t mind at all.

You drew a wavy, thin, sage green line from his left shoulder diagonally down to the left side of his waist, watching as the damp bristles glided over his muscles. They weren’t as defined as an athlete’s, but they were there, soft indications of his fitness.

As you let your mind and paintbrush wander, you found yourself turning that line into a vine of flowers and leaves. The style was almost impressionistic, barely abstract and precise smudges of colours that resembled plants you didn’t know the names of. With each stroke of the brush and twitch of his muscles, your shoulder relaxed and you let yourself bask in the moment just as he was.

Soon enough, you were happy with your creation and sat back to inspect it. Feeling the absence of your brushstrokes, Yunho turned his head to look at you again.

“Done?”

You tilted your head one way and then the other, looking at it from different angles before nodding with satisfaction. He gave you a toothy smile.

“Do you wanna do the front too, tiny?”

“Sure- wait, what?” Your eyes snapped to his, his question making your face feel warm. Painting on his naked front torso seemed considerably more… intimate than painting on the plane of his back.

“Yeah, like, paint on the front? Maybe you can connect the designs.”

And so you found yourself painting a similar vine on his chest after he laid himself on his back—of course, he had waited until you told him the paint was dry in fear of ruining your hard work. This vine started from his waist where the vine on his back ended and creeped up to his neck, disappearing behind his ear.

Throughout the process, you had to keep reminding yourself not to let your hands indulge in a few caresses of his porcelain skin, gaslighting yourself into believing he was just a canvas. But the way he was looking at you didn’t help much.

His eyes almost looked glossy as the reflection of the ceiling lamp’s light danced in them, looking at you with something you could only compare to adoration. You didn’t hate it at all, but you weren’t sure how to feel about it.

You also weren’t sure how you ended up in this position. At some point you must’ve been so focused, you didn’t notice him move you to sit on his upper thighs. Straddling him. But you didn’t want to make things awkward and move off him (not to mention that you greatly liked this position), so you stayed and continued your work from on top of him. You desperately tried to ignore the size difference that seemed so much more obvious when you were on him like this while he, on the contrary, revelled in it.

And at first you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, threatening to break through your rib cage. But the erratic beating soothed itself; it calmed down quickly when it came to terms with the fact that you were safe in his vicinity. He was safe.

Painting his front was similar to his back, his muscles twitching every time you brushed over them with paint. Now that you were seeing him like this, you nearly asked him never to put on a shirt again.

You found yourself adding details that were ultimately meaningless and would most definitely go unnoticed, but you weren’t quite ready to move away from him. Not when he was looking at you with such round, tender eyes.

“Can I take a picture of this?”

His voice seemed slightly deeper than usual, perhaps because he hadn’t used it in a while. His question briefly caught you off guard, but you realised that it was kind of cute, really. So you nodded without lifting your eyes from the area you were painting just next to his abs.

Yunho’s hand reached over to the coffee table and he slid his phone off the surface. First he took a picture from his own point of view, looking down his chest to see one of your hands painting gorgeous flowers while your other one rested on his free hand’s forearm, the way you straddled him so perfectly just further down the shot.

The next picture he took was a landscape oriented photo, his hand outstretched to the side. This shot depicted the scene from the side, both of your smiling faces in the picture, as well as the bend of your arm as you painted near his neck and the soft arch of your back as you leaned over him ever so slightly. The way his free hand’s fingers rubbed and tapped their way up your thighs until they reached your waist went unnoticed by the camera.

While you were very focused on painting, you did eventually relax enough to let your own free hand explore his torso. With one hand focused on refining the flowers, the other glided over wherever the paint wasn’t touching, following the dips and rises of his body. It wasn’t until you accidentally passed your thumb over one of his nipples that he made an effort to stop you.

When it happened, he let out a shaky breath that seemed somewhat like a silent whimper, he raised a hand to close around your wrist and lifted it away from his chest. After he muttered a “tiny, please” you nodded and relaxed your hand in his grip, face flushing out of embarrassment.

Instead of dropping your hand, he repositioned his hold on it to cradle it gently, pulling it to his face and consequently pulling you further up his lap. You gaped at him as he pressed an electric kiss to your knuckles. But he didn’t stop there; he flexed your wrist to present your palm to him, his eyes never breaking contact with yours until his kisses trailed to your wrist. His lips lingered over your pulse point and you watched as his eyes fluttered shut.

It was impossible to deny the dark tint appearing on your cheeks, but you were glad to see he looked just as affected. Pink blush adorned his soft cheeks, his eyes seeming slightly dazed when he finally dropped your hand and looked up to you.

It wasn’t long after that that the paint fully dried and he had to leave, voice hoarse as he explained that he had an early shooting the next day and should probably go rest. After helping you clean up, Yunho pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, barely missing the corner of your lips, and took off into the night.

If you collapsed onto the couch and squealed into a pillow as soon as he was gone, that was nobody’s business but yours.

And if as soon as he got home, he practically ripped off his shirt and gushed to his brothers about how small and pretty you looked when you were on top of him—foregoing showing the pictures because those were for him and only him—that was also nobody's business but his either.

　　[ lilo's notes ... ] thank you all for waiting so patiently for this chapter <33. as you can see, you and yunho are quite… close 🤭 i honestly had so much fun writing this, possibly too much- but anyways, i hope you enjoyed it!! also, don’t worry, i did not forget about that little yeosang moment from the previous chapter, it will most definitely be brought up~~

　　ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ network ... @cromernet @blankjournal

　　ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ taglist ... @atinytinaa @marievllr-abg @pocketjoong @moonsangie @sarahleighflora @kiss-hwa @kyukyustar @cqndiedcherries @ateezourstars @kitty4hwa @hyukssunflower @aestheticsluut @neohyxn @mrowwww @darkdayelixer @itsokaytobedumb00 @hwa-sans @purplelady85 @seongfury @meginthebuilding27 @stopeatread @mothworked @foliea @euphoric-emily16 @teezers99 @mulletjoonsupremacy @imalildelulu @sunukissed @blehhhidk @ad0rechuu @brxken0rex @strawberry-moonpies @bluehwale-main @lightinythedark @stupefystudies @yandere-stories @skz-enthusiasttt @seongwin @huachengsbestie01 @galaxypox @moonminji @lilactangerine @lelaleleb @asjkdk @honey-lemon-goose @stayteezdreams @diorwoo @yunho0o0o0o @majestickitty @shookykookie30 @0325tiny

#★ — › NEVER SAY NEVER !#cromernet #ateez #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #vampire au #college au #fluff #eventual smut

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jinnie-ret · 6 months

Note

I’m not entirely sure if you’d write this or not but could you write stray kids and like trainee reader who has divorced parents and is crying? You don’t have to write this and I understand if you don’t. If you do thank you

togetherness

stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)

genre: very angsty

content warnings: divorce, allusions to a panic attack

word count: 2.7k

summary: out of all things, the last thing you expected to hear was that your parents are getting a divorce, but it was fortunate that the boys were there to hold you together

Thank you for the request! I did something silly and accidentally wrote it as a ninth member instead of a trainee, but she is still the maknae of the group so I hope that is still ok :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

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Ever since Stray Kids was confirmed to debut after the survival show all nine of you took part in, life had been a whirlwind. From training in the practice room to releasing several tracks, getting your first win was like a dream come true. Of course it would be 'Miroh' that people gave you recognition for, you couldn't deny how how much you loved the track too. However, there was a small part of you, scrap that, a big part of you that hoped '3rd Eye' would also gain that same level of attention. It's not a crime to be obsessed with your own music now, is it?

Due to how busy you had been, it had been just over a year since you had seen your parents, and for today to finally be the day you'd get to see them, you were practically bouncing off of the walls, so much so that the boys couldn't stop laughing at you, fondness radiating through all of them. You were the youngest, after all, only 14 when the show happened, and they had seen you grow so much already.

"Y/Nnie, calm down," Changbin chuckled as he tried to hold onto the sides of your arms, but you couldn't contain yourself as you excitedly paced up and down the wooden floors of the lounge.

"I can't help it... I'm so excited! I haven't seen them in ages, I missed them so much!" you cheered, accidentally bumping into Minho in the process.

He slowly turned around from his spot in the kitchen, stopping his minor task of pouring some juice.

"Do you like oranges, Y/N?" Minho turned to face you with a sinister grin.

"Oranges? I love orang-" you shrugged momentarily in confusion before gasping as he held the juice over your head.

"3,2..."

"Ah! Don't! I washed my hair today and everything!" you were rapid in your movements as you ducked away and took cover between Felix and Jeongin.

"Don't sacrifice us!" Jeongin's eyes were wide.

"Ah, you're being so cute today, Y/Nnie," Felix giggled, patting your head.

"Have you got everything you need, menace?" Chan asked you, letting out a laugh when you scrunched your nose at him in response.

"If anyone's a menace, it's Hannie, but yes," you answered his question whilst also turning the spotlight to Jisung, who was currently trying to grab Hyunjin's hair and tie it with a scrunchie of yours he had stolen.

"Who, me?" Jisung feigned innocence.

"Ah!" Hyunjin jumped not noticing Jisung behind him. "Bro, what are you doing?"

"Giving you a new hairstyle, Y/Nnie lets me do it all the time," Jisung shrugged, moving away from Hyunjin as it was clear his mission had failed.

"Yeah, small problem, Hyunjin's hair isn't long enough," Seungmin pointed out, making you laugh.

"I want to see Jinnie with long hair, woah," you nodded in approval at the idea.

"Y/N, you're getting distracted again," Changbin directed you towards the front door. He couldn't hide his smirk as he shook his head at your antics.

"It's like you're trying to get rid of me," you pouted, turning around with your hands on your hips.

"Never, but you really need to go," Minho joined him at the front door, jokingly pushing you out the door, making Felix yell out in surprise.

"Don't push the maknae!"

"Ok, ok, I'm going," you laughed, brushing a hand through your hair making sure it was perfect and not a single strand was out of place.

"Bye Y/N!" you heard them yell out in goodbye, before you made your way to the Korean BBQ place that wasn't too far away from your dorms. Initially you were going to go for a café, but your dad insisted that you see each other at your favourite kind of place.

And there they were, waving at you from across the road, small smiles on their faces that gree bigger the closer you got to them.

"Mum! Dad!" you ran up to them as you embraced them into a tight hug, their arms wrapping around you in return, both you and your mum getting teary eyed.

"Oh, I missed you so much sweetheart," she cuddled you closer to her, and pulled away as your dad planted a kiss on your forehead.

"Come on, darling, I bet you're hungry," your dad poked your cheek as he guided you through, sorting out the details of the reservation as you all sat down and began to catch up.

"I'm so glad I got some time off to see you, I just, I missed you so much," you sniffled, wiping your tears away before you full on sobbed in front of them.

"Aigoo, don't cry my dear," your mum wiped your tears as she dabbed a tissue across your cheeks and wrapped you in a side hug.

"We're so proud of you, Y/N, I know for sure we can both say that," your dad awkwardly glanced across at your mum, not that you noticed this exchange, too happy to be simply in their presence again.

"Thank you, I'm glad I can make you proud," you smile widely, your mum nodding along.

"You've achieved so much already, are the boys taking care of you, hmm?" she questioned, shifting her body to face yours more.

"-and then by the end of it we all just ended up falling asleep in the practice room, but I didn't mind, it was so comfortable, they truly are my brothers," you gushed as you retold one of your favourite stories of one of your earlier memories in your trainee days, just showing how strong your bond with the group was.

Whilst all of this was happening, your parents both had a nervous demeanour about them, not fully engaged in your story, something heavier weighing on their minds. How would their only child react when they told them?

"I-is something wrong? Oh, I'm rambling again aren't I, sorry, you can tell I haven't changed much," you finally picked up on their silences, the change of their normally relaxed mannerisms more apparent than ever.

"No, no, it's perfectly alright sweetheart, we just..." your mum trailed off, not knowing how to approach the topic.

"We have something to tell you, Y/N," your dad finished off your mum's sentence.

"Oh, what is it?" your heart dropped, sensing the serious tone coming through in the conversation. You fiddled with the chopsticks in front of you, trying to stabilise yourself, not knowing what was to come.

"There's no easy way to say this, darling, but... Your mum and I, we're getting a divorce," your dad couldn't look you in the eyes as he said this, wishing he could pretend he was looking for a waiter yet the enclosed booth you were in prevented him from doing so.

"No," you instantly said, disbelieving the words you had just heard, sure you had misinterpreted his words. In your strong reaction, you firmly placed the chopsticks down, head moving left and right as you glanced back and forth between your parents. A trio of a family, now split into three.

"Sweetheart, please, don't make this difficult," your mum began, sighing as she stared down at the table.

"D-don't make this difficult?! You're getting a divorce!" you leant back away from them, struggling to take in the situation as your heart raced.

"It hasn't been easy for us, please understand, Y/N," your dad pitched in, "we've been thinking about this for a long time now."

"How long?" your voice broke as you got quieter, the sight of your eyes welling up with tears breaking the hearts of your parents.

"For around four years now," your mum winced as she admitted how long their relationship had been in turmoil.

"Four, four years?!" your hands shook as you covered your face, absolutely devastated. Anyone that knew your family would have said it was absolutely perfect, even the boys who had only seen them on a few occasions.

"We had to make it work for you, Y/N, darling," your dad tried to grab your hand but you ripped it away from him, getting rid of that opportunity.

"You're putting this on me?" your voice wobbles, tears freely running down your face, leaving trails of grief in its wake. A grievance mourning the loss of something you'd never get back.

"Listen, we wanted to stay together for you, you just got into JYP, but now you've debuted we thought..."

"You thought I could handle it? Because my life is 'sorted'?! It's quite the opposite now," you sniffled, wiping your nose with the back of your hoodie sleeve.

"Y/N, we had to do this sweetheart, for the better," your mum tried to reason with you, tears of her own present.

"No, no, I... I can't," you scrambled out from your seat, running out of the restaurant without even having any of the food yet.

"Y/N!!!"

"Darling!"

Your parents desperately called after you, but you kept running away, finding a seat on a park bench to try and process everything that had just happened. They were divorcing, just like that. Were all the happy memories in your childhood as fake as the ones they created when they had been convincing you all this time that you were still a happy family? It wasn't fair. Could you even trust the words that left either of them now that they had revealed their biggest secret to you?

Without even knowing, your feet guided you away from the bustling streets of Seoul back to your true home. The family you had found solace in, that you'd be soon to find solace in once more, but for different reasons this time.

Like your body was on autopilot, your key twisted into the door of your shared apartment and you dropped your small bag to the floor, instantly falling to the ground as your knees buckled. You weren't aware of how bad of a state you were in, the mascara from your light makeup you applied earlier on in the day, now smudged under your eyes and faintly across the apples of your cheeks. Your chest heaved as you gasped for air, unable to comprehend everything that had just happened. You didn't even feel the arms that had wrapped around you and brought you to their lap, cradling you into the safety of their warmth.

"Miss, please, it's ok, she just got here, she's safe, I think, ummm, do you want to come to our dorm? I can send the address?" Chan hurriedly spoke into his phone as he glanced over at Jeongin holding you tightly to him, the other boys around you trying to provide you with enough space but their comfort at the same time.

"I, I think it's better if we don't," the voice of your mum sighed from the other side of the phone.

"What? But- oh," Chan was ready to convince them to come over and ask what had brought you to such a distressed state, but the call had already been ended from the other side.

"It's ok, you're ok, Y/N, just take some deep breaths ok? Ok?" Changbin whispered into your ear, trying to help you slow down not only your breathing, but your mind too as you were clearly in your own head.

Jeongin rubbed your back in soothing circles, and after a while, you felt yourself slowly calm down, alongside Jisung's instructions to breathe deeply, and the soothing feeling of someone scratching your scalp, who you found out later was Felix.

The boys were the only people who could ground you in this moment, providing you with the comfort the rest of your support system failed to do. Your thoughts were still in a whirlwind yet you managed to tune back into your surroundings.

"You're ok, that's it, well done love," Chan's voice broke through, as your tight grip on Jeongin's t-shirt lessened and your body was ever so slightly less tense.

"We should move her to the sofa," Hyunjin spoke quietly, as if he was afraid to break the calm you began to feel.

And so, you numbly walked to the sofa with the help of Seungmin's hand resting on your back, pulling you down gently to sit next to him. Like you normally would, you rested your head on his shoulder. But this was far from a normal situation.

"Y/N?" Changbin asked tentatively, hoping you'd respond. "Look at me, aegi."

"Mmm?" you made a sound with your croaky throat, sore from your crying which the boys were thankful for their own souls that they didn't have to listen to it anymore. They feared it would permanently leave an imprint on their hearts, so they were worried at what on Earth had happened to you.

"Can you tell us what happened?" Chan slowly questioned you, a gentleness behind his eyes that nearly made you tear up again.

What did happen? What would happen now?

"They... my, my parents, they're getting a divorce," your voice cracked again and you internally scolded yourself for it as the boys looked geared up to protect you at any cost.

"A divorce?" Felix gasped.

"Oh, no, oh Y/Nnie," Jisung sighed sympathetically.

"I just don't get why... why now?" you held your head in your hands. Having to explain everything that happened moments ago would have been more painful had it not been for your members attention on you as you all sat on the sofas in the lounge. The very same ones you had been joyfully skipping around earlier on that day.

"These things... they can be unpredictable sometimes, Y/Nnie," Seungmin squeezed you tighter towards him, leant forward with you.

"That's what I hate... they said it had been four years that they had been thinking about it, four years since they knew," you closed your eyes tightly, anything to imagine yourself not in this situation.

"Y/N, you couldn't have known," Jeongin tried to offer some comfort.

"They said they stayed together, for me. I was the reason that they didn't tell me after all this time," you gritted your teeth in frustration.

"No, no, don't do that, love, you weren't to know," Chan firmly said, the last thing he wanted was for you to feel guilt.

"It's not your responsibility to carry that weight," Minho sternly added, in the same mindset as Chan, hating that you were upset. Sure, he teased you for your hyperactive mood earlier but he much preferred that then seeing the storm cloud hovering above you.

"It is though. They faked their love just for me. How do I know they even love me?" you crumbled once more, tears rushing down your face as Hyunjin immediately crouched down in front of you with a tissue at hand.

"They could never stop loving you. It's hard, but just because they fell out of love with each other, doesn't mean they'd do the same with you," he grabbed your hands in his, before pressing the tissue into your hand for you to use.

It was almost funny. Your mother had dried your tears for you earlier and now you were doing it for yourself, feeling that childlike innocence being ripped away from you as you were forced to feel adult emotions.

"Please don't think that way, no one could ever not love you," Jisung insisted.

"I just... I don't even know anymore," you took in some deep breaths again, looking around you at your brothers who held so much love and compassion in their eyes for you. You could see it in how they sat, turned towards you with their undivided attention.

"You don't have to know, Y/N. You're not going to know how to feel straight away," Changbin validated your emotions that you couldn't sort out on your own. But that was why you were glad they were there, to heal you, to offer you that safety net of their permanence in your life.

"You're not alone, okay?" Minho's soft spoken voice was filled with love, smooth like honey.

You needed some space from your thoughts, some reprieve from the situation you had faced, but, even in your fragility, you could see, no, you knew the boys would forever be there to keep you together. And so what if the cracks showed? You had 8 members more than willing to not force you to be fixed, but to live with those cracks and learn to understand them.

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky

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tonystarkbingo · 2 years

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SCRAP SPOTLIGHT!

Tossed in the box by: celtic7irsh!

Prompt: Bucky is a bit of science nerd. He’s not a genius like Tony or Bruce, but he can often be found lurking around the lab, just watching them work. Sometimes when he can’t sleep, he goes down to the lab and tinkers with some of the simpler maintenance bots. Tony knows, but he hasn’t told anybody about it.

WIP:

Bucky was brooding in the corner again, and Tony cheerfully ignored the cybernetic assassin while he went about constructing…whatever it was he was constructing. He wasn’t even really sure what idea he’d started with; he’d just started tinkering. Scientific engineering was a wonderful thing, and at three in the morning, it really didn’t matter what he was working on, just that he was doing something.

He was only aware that Bucky had moved because DUM-E started beeping excitedly. But Jarvis hadn’t sounded any alarms, so Tony kept tinkering. He lifted the gadget up to eye level and stared at it critically. He was pretty sure that he was building what might possibly be a bomb, and he grimaced, setting it down carefully and making a mental note to very carefully deconstruct it later.

Tossed in the box by: SomeSortofItalianRoast!

Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, identity porn; romance novel tropes and themes; minor character injury, didn't know you were dating a celebrity

Summary: Mechanic Bucky Barnes doesn’t realize that his hot boyfriend Steve is actually Captain America until he agrees to go to a “work event,” which turns out to be the Met Gala.

Steve Rogers meets the hottest mechanic in Brooklyn, who doesn’t seem concerned about him being Captain America. It’s a refreshing change. When Tony strong-arms him into not only attending the Met Gala, but introducing his boyfriend to the Avengers, Steve brings Bucky as his plus one.

Avengers (except Thor and Tony) have a level of fame similar to Tony Hawk - they aren’t recognized out of uniform, even with hints Each section starts with a tweet from one of them, with a Tony Hawk style interaction

Tossed in the box by: PoliZ!

Peter Quill detects SOS, goes off on own to investigate after Rocket insists it’s some sort of trap. It is --- Candarians take Peter prisoner - put in cell with Tony who was kidnapped from earth a few months ago - passed from ship to ship as pet/slave engineer (neglect > torture except for the current assholes. Peter snuck stuff in to facilitate escape - “No reason this can’t be fun,” as takes off shirt. Tony responds “Sorry sunshine -- the spirit may be willing, but the flesh is weak.” “Everyone out here thinks human armpits are disgusting - it’s a great place to hide stuff. Peels off patches of plastiskin -- comms, mini weapons, explosives, ??

Tossed in the box by: rebelmeg!

Tony is actually ripped as hell from metal working and stuff, so the first time anyone sees his torso, they’re all shocked because he doesn’t seem like he’s going to be built like that, especially not under all the suits of cloth or iron.

Want to see the rest of the prompts? Click here to see the GDoc!

#tonystarkbingo #tsb box of scraps #scrap spotlight #fandom event

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dnalt-d2 · 20 days

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I wasn't able to watch Quackity's stream just now but from what I'm getting, it's a really unfortunate development

Basically that Quackity is stepping away from the QSMP for a bit and leaving the Administration of it to other people due to fear for his personal safety, and this next part might be slightly unrelated, but it's something I've been kinda wanting to say for a bit, and this gives me a good chance to do it

I remember a lot of people wondering why Admins had to stay anonymous to the public and this sort of thing is why. If experienced streamers, who are used to dealing with this sort of thing, are going through this, imagine what could have happened to the Admins if people found out who they were

Like imagine we knew exactly who was behind the Code attacks that killed Bobby, Tallulah, or Dapper. You really think people wouldn't have dog-piled on them because they killed their favorite Egg?? Imagine people knew who Leo or Sunny's admins were during all their "drama." People were already crossing boundaries before they knew who the admins were, and I don't think it would have gone well if that information were out in the open at the time

To me, it didn't seem like a good idea to throw people who were inexperienced with this into the spotlight like that. And THIS is why. People are still dog-piling on anyone they think is the problem, and that isn't okay. Quackity just talked about how scared he was for his actual personal safety, and that's not okay. People get the smallest scrap of information and latch onto it like it's gospel, and things like this happen. It's why I haven't even made a post about some recent developments, because I know a lot of what's being spread is speculation, and I don't like to spread around things I don't have concrete information on. Maybe if CERTAIN things were more open, this all wouldn't have been as big a problem, but the fact that this is the end result kinda makes their privacy more understandable

Because this is the kind of thing it leads to. Everyone demands every bit of information, pressuring people to the point that they just want to do SOMETHING to get people off their backs even a little bit. As far as I know, Lea DID NOT mean to leak that kind of information, but she was being bombarded for information, and just tried to provide some evidence for what she was saying, and probably didn't realize that it could lead to this (That's if the information I have on that is correct, that she basically leaked a payment document that had Quackity's full legal name, and that's how people managed to track down his information. If this isn't correct, please let me know, I haven't seen enough information on it to verify 100%)

(And I wanna say that this isn't me excusing the fact that the Admins couldn't talk to each other or the CCs when it was relevant to the server. That sort of thing is a textbook manipulation tactic from bosses who want to take advantage of their workers and using the lack of information as a weapon to that end)

I said before that I NEVER expected concrete updates about everything, just hoped for acknowledgements that things were still happening at all. Because the fact that streamers are in the public eye doesn't mean everything they do needs to be public knowledge. People online love to criticize paparazzi for constantly bombarding celebrities and invading their personal lives, but this is starting to feel startlingly similar, and I don't like that. Yes, the people involved should have that information, but we should not

I really hope people manage to stay safe through all this, including Quackity and each and every Admin/Ex-Admin that's been at the center of this. There are some things going around them that I don't agree with, but that doesn't mean I wish harm on them for it. That's the magical thing about the internet. You can just not interact with people you don't agree with, and I really wish some people would remember that. Especially over on Twitter. Because Holy Shit

Anyways, that's about all I have for now, probably won't be too active for a bit still because of IRL stuff, but I'm still here. Watching

WATCHING YOU ALL

**Okay Edit I didn't know this but

I actually didn't know Leo's admin was public at the time, but considering that, I guess it's not too widespread. So while it seemed to be alright, it could've gone a lot worse if that Admin was more well-known. Or if Sunny's was known at all. Either way, thanks for the clarification!!

#qsmp #qsmp quackity #quackity #qsmp admin situation

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gatzbright · 8 months

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dream & george; falling in love

Dream: 'Have either of you talked about liking each other in the past?' George: *Scoffs* Dream: ... Well— George: *Giggles* Dream: Well, none of the answers fit. But I'd say, like, we've talked about 'whether' ... George: The weather? Dream: Yeah.

Dream: The realisation that, once again, I met someone that's not going to be my friend, but something more. They were never meant to be my friend in the first place. I can't avoid it. If I'm going to fall in love, I'm going to fall in love. So this song is a cry to please be gentle, please don't make me even more paranoid.

Dream: I want that part of my life to be private, you know? Regardless of who that person is ... Once the cameras are off, once we're not doing anything, it's our time. It's me and you. There's no one else. No one else exists in the world, regardless of the fact that there's thirty-million people that are looming over.

Dream: Because I'm famous and because I have all this attention on me—when I'm in my normal life it's like, I want to put the people in my life in the spotlight and make sure they feel that way. But then there's lyrics like 'the celebrity in my bed' and 'close the curtains now you're all mine' ... It's about, you know, that special someone in your life, and how in my mind, because I feel so special, I want them to feel that same specialness. So, yeah, it's about relationships and how I want that person to feel special like I do.

dream @/dreamwastaken: .@/GeorgeNotFound you've had such a big impact on my life I don't even know where to start. helping me code my videos sometimes, helping with random ideas within videos, encouraging me and always being the light in the room to make things even just a little bit brighter. you took a chance on me out of university, making thumbnails and coding for scraps because we wanted to make it big and I’m proud to say that we did it and I’ll have an appreciation for you for the rest of my life because of your friendship, kindness, and love you’ve shown me. love you man. idc if you’re never serious or if we joke around a lot, you have a place in my heart and I’m looking forward to finally meeting you and taking our next step in content creation and friendship. LOVE U

Dream: 'Spotlight' is a song I wrote about making that special someone in my life feel as special as they truly are ... I want to be there to support them through the ups and downs, and make them feel like they have a million fans screaming cheering them on, even if it's just my voice echoing a million times. They are the most important person in the world and the only one in that spotlight of love and admiration, and I want them to know that.

a lot of my future is your future

Head Over Heels / Broken, Tears for Fears | Dream and George retake 'Am I In Love With My Bestfriend' Quiz, DNF Discord Podcast | Head Over Heels / Broken, Tears for Fears | Dream Team House Cooking Stream, Awesamdude VOD | The Diaries of Franz Kafka, Franz Kafka | Paranoid, Dream | to whoever wants to hear – lyric booklet, Dream | Franz Kafka Letter, Franz Kafka | Red Doc>, Anne Carson | Photograph of Dream and George during the Foodbeast's Panel at Twitchcon San Diego, @/itsjusttai_ | Dream Team Christmas – Baking Cookies, Sapnap VOD | Paranoid, Dream | Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince, Taylor Swift | Dream's Snapchats of George, @/dream | Paris, Taylor Swift | Dream breaks down his new EP track by track, Associated Press | long story short, Taylor Swift | Dream and George on set: Everest – Dream & Yung Gravy BEHIND THE SCENES, Dream Music | Dream breaks down his new EP track by track, Associated Press | Spotlight, Dream | Technoblade Charity Stream George's POV, GeorgeNotFound VOD | Dream and George during Foodbeast's Kitchen League Battle Royale at Twitchcon San Diego, Twitch VOD | October Passed Me By, girl in red | Waiting for a Star to Fall, Boy Meets Girl | Dream Team Christmas – Gingerbread Houses, GeorgeNotFound VOD | dream Tweet, @/dreamwastaken | Dream Team Christmas – Baking Cookies, Sapnap VOD | "George napping and the sun is literally beaming him square in the face" – Photograph and Tweet, @/dreamwastaken | Paranoid, Dream | Dream and George on set: Everest – Dream & Yung Gravy BEHIND THE SCENES, Dream Music | to whoever wants to hear – lyric booklet, Dream | Dream Team House Cooking Stream, Awesamdude VOD | SOMEONE MADE A DISSTRACK ABOUT ME???, GeorgeNotFound VOD | Paranoid, Dream |

#whew !!!!! WHO ELSE IS FEELING CRAZY #memememmeememem #constant state of delirium and just utter hysteria like. dream wrote love songs about his george his boy his soulmate his best friendhis lo #both of whom we've been shipping n writing n reading fics n creating fanart for YEARS bc we could see it and. now its kinda beenhardlaunche #romance is not dead if u keep it just yours !!!!!!!!!!!!!#IM SO HAPPY FOR MY BABIES MY DNFIES ohmygod likeisferejrghrgeuoegrh #this took hours btw its now 9am and i had 1hour sleep ijust. don't know anymore this is dnfs fault #poured my blood sweat n tears into this load of crazy TRUTH. time to write dnf fic now o7 #compilations #web weaving #dnf #my dnfies #dreamnotfound #dreamie #georgie #love #timeless #tin can #my webs

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weirdmarioenemies · 6 months

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Name: Fish Bone

Debut: Super Mario World

Fish Bones are—hey! We’ve already talked about you, and very recently at that! We love you, Fish Bone, but it’s time to stop hogging the spotlight!

Name: Fishbone

Debut: Kirby 64: The Crystal Shards

There we go!

It’s that funky fresh time of year where all the strange Mario creatures retract into their holes to make way for other, stranger beasts, and boy is Fishbone strange!

Fishbones are the reanimated skeletons of dead fish, and golly, what a great skeleton to have! Just three boomerang-shaped bones and two hollow eye sockets. No spine, no discernable jaws of any kind, just pure, abject salminimalism! I bet you wouldn’t even know these were bones if I didn’t tell you, and yet they still manage to evoke a fish skeleton so well!

But whose skeletons ARE they? While we don’t have any direct confirmation, it feels pretty likely to me that we have the skeletons of dear old Floppers on our hands! There’s a common fish enemy in most Kirby games called Blippers, but Blippers are entirely absent from Kirby 64, and Floppers are a lot thinner and pointier than them anyhow!

But even with that in mind…wow! This still only barely looks like it could be in a Flopper. Just a wonderfully abstract skeletal structure all around. And it only gets weirder from here!

There’s a reason for the peculiar shape of Fishbone’s head! Rather than hop or jump around like most water-based enemies, they shoot their skulls at Kirby for damage! (Don’t worry, it grows back!) Why, you may ask? Well, they provide the Cutter ability, which in Kirby 64 looks like this!:

Most underwater enemies in Kirby don’t give abilities, since Kirby typically can’t inhale while in water (understandable!). He can do this in Kirby 64, though! With them shooting their heads to attack and being fairly common, this makes Fishbones the most Cutterest enemy in the whole game, even more Cuttery than Sir Kibble himself!

They are, in fact, SO Cuttery that Miracle Matter’s embodiment of said ability looks a lot like Fishbones!

They STILL couldn’t get enough of Fishbone, though! If you inhale and carry it over your head, you can shoot its skulls yourself! Due to the way Cutter works, this is actually MORE ideal to use when you’re underwater, since using the ability makes Kirby sink!

Sadly, they reverted how Cutter works after this, and with Kirby going right back to spitting bubbles underwater, Fishbones didn’t stand a chance ): Despite its awesome design, it just joined the foray of thousands of other Kirby 64 enemies to never see the light of day again.

But who knows? Maybe it will appear in a future game, just like beloved Plugg, and grant the Cutter ability once more! After all, the Kirby franchise has finally started begrudgingly acknowledging that Kirby 64 did, in fact, exist.

And I think that any enemy that can say they could be combined with Ghost Knight to inexplicably let Kirby create a giant toothy maw out of his arms, deserves a second chance. :)

Before you ask, no, there’s no way Fishbones could come from the only OTHER bony fish in Kirby 64, Blowfish, either. As for why, let’s take a gander at the scrapped enemy Blowfishbone herself!

“Oouuughh…I am–I’m so, so many bones…ooohgghhgh…”

Thank you, Blowfishbone.

(All gifs taken from the Strategy Wiki!)

#fishbone #kirby 64 the crystal shards #kirby 64 #kirby #not mario #funky friday #kirby enemies #mod tweeter #funky friday? on a thursday?

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bishopsbeloved · 3 months

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something holy

lucy gray baird x female reader

Lucy Gray Baird has had you under her spell the entire time you’ve known her. She’s a creature not of this world, something gorgeous, something holy.

3k words, fluff, mild angst

Lucy Gray Baird is the sweetest girl you know.

You’ve known her for a while, now, but you’ve known of her for even longer. You’ve only ever lived in District Twelve, a Seam girl born and bred, but you remember more vividly than anything that colourful day the Covey were rounded up and forced to settle in your home. Even then, you felt a draw to them. Sure, everyone was intrigued by them, even more so once they stepped into the spotlight and made a name for themselves. You knew you weren’t special, you were one of many in a crowd of admirers, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to know them. You wanted to know the dark-haired girl your age, who you’d occasionally glimpse through a crowd or across a plaza. This hunger, barely sated by scraps of fleeting encounters across the span of years, would only grow with age.

Twelve is the district furthest from the Capitol, and it’s the most neglected, to be blunt — it still has the lowest Peacekeeper to population ratio in the entirety of Panem. A blessing in disguise, you consider it, but it often renders the Seam a relatively lawless place. When the Covey arrived, the best part of a decade ago, it was even worse. The Covey kids were never forced to attend Capitol-mandated schooling in the way that the rest of the Seam kids were because they weren’t really Twelve. They didn’t really didn’t bother anyone, for the most part, and so long as that remained the case there were more important rules to be enforced elsewhere.

For the first few years of their inhabiting a crumbling little red-brick cottage at the edge of the Seam, overlooking the woods, the Covey were like daylight ghosts around town. They wove flowers into each other’s braids every morning, wore long billowy clothes even in the coldest winter snow and communicated more through melody, or strange noises, than they did words. (For a good few years of your childhood, you’d stumble down to their ends of town once a week to offer clumsy good-wish bundles of flowers and herbs, and even ribbons when you could get your hands on them. You’d be met with wide smiles or hummed tunes or, towards the end of this practice, even a beamed thank you, sweetness from Lucy Gray herself, but nothing more, and so eventually you stopped.)

At night, though, they were ghosts no longer; they’d come alive, lighting up the whole Hob with foot-stomping tavern thrashers. As you grew older, more capable, and still more captivated by them, you found yourself more and more often in attendance. That’s how you ended up meeting her; a fight broke out in the pit one night. You were close to the stage as could be, how you were whenever you got the chance, and in a whirlwind of movement and noise you found yourself caught up in the conflict. A pitcher of ale ended up being emptied onto you and you yelped as the lukewarm amber seeped into your dress, whilst its former owner cursed the loss of his drink and angrily swung the empty pitcher at the head of the whoever knocked him into you. The music halted as chaos ensued, and you scrambled to escape.

“Alright, y’all, that’s enough,” said a forceful voice from the stage, a voice you’d recognise anywhere. “You want to fight, you can go outside t’do it, I hear there’s a hell of an audience in uniform out there too.”

Billy Taupe, by this point the size of a man with the broad shoulders to show for it, set down his accordion and leapt down from the stage, forcefully breaking up the conflict, with the lean Tam Amber quick to follow. You were practically swept up onto the stage, and in an effort to de-escalate Lucy Gray reached out her hands to lift you up and into safety. She was stronger than she looked, and you marvelled at the moment, surely gaping like a fool.

“Learn to behave, folks,” she playfully chastised the crowd as Billy Taupe and Tam Amber wrestled two men out the door. You stood stiff as a board beside her, still dripping head to toe. “I’m’na give you ten, and when I get back y’all better have sorted yourselves, alright?” She jabbed a finger playfully at no one in particular before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and guiding you backstage, Maude Ivory and Barb Azure hot on your heels.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” she asked you the moment you were out the crowd’s earshot, “we been watching that whole thing —”

“— they nasty out there tonight,” chimed in Maude Ivory.

“— sure we got an old dress o’ Lucy Gray’s milling around somewhere, get you outta that thing,” Barb Azure offered kindly.

“— come here, into the light, poor thing, are you hurt? Let me see it,” Lucy Gray fretted. Seeing your features properly for the first time under the flickering of the oil fixture on the wall, she paused. “I know you.”

“I been here before,” you offered, finally summoning the courage to speak.

“No,” Lucy Gray mused, “you… you done used to bring us flowers, didn’t you?”

You froze, flushing. “Guess I did. Didn’t think you’d remember.”

“Aw hey now, I’d never forget a pretty thing like you,” she scolded you. Your cheeks burned with colour the same shade as her lips. “Why’d you ever stop? We used t’love your visits.”

“She ain’t kidding,” added Barb Azure, eyes twinkling, “Lu would doll up real early on Sundays and wait around for you.”

“Oh, shut it, you big grass,” Lucy Gray muttered, dark eyes never leaving your face. Your breath caught in your throat. “Look, we ain’t sending you back out there. How’s about we’ll find you somethin’ to change into and you’ll sit pretty with us, alright, sweet thing? What’s your name, baby?”

After that night, she kept finding reasons to be near you. Despite the draw you felt to the Covey you were scared stiff of bothering them. You’d rather die than cause them any trouble. But you and Lucy Gray, and then the whole Covey, fell into a close friendship so quickly you couldn’t help but wonder if that feeling was mutual. For a while they would tentatively invite you to picnics at the lake or bonfires in their back garden, but once they found out you could play the pan flute you were as good as one of them.

Lucy Gray began to consume your every waking thought. Lucy Gray, Lucy Gray, Lucy Gray. It’s been the same old for a good few years now. You spend every moment you can with her, whether that’s taming snakes or catching butterflies or whispering to each other late at night. She’s hardened like brandy and fiery inside, and you preen hopelessly under the light she casts on you. Lucy Gray Baird is what makes the world go round.

Yeah, she’s the sweetest girl you know. And, unbeknownst to you, she’s sweeter than ever on you.

The Covey are a superstitious people. There’s nothing they’ll heed more attentively than the whisper of fate. Lucy Gray doesn’t remember much from her childhood pre-Twelve, but she remembers when her momma would try to teach her how to see future in the way that the earth breathed. She knows to pay heed to the shape that the tea leaves at the bottom of her mug take, and where the first drop of rain falls. Everything, everything, including her heart, pushes her to you. She’s sure of it. It’s something bigger than her that connects the two of you, something cosmic, something holy. She’ll count bluebells on her walk to you — she loves me, she loves me not — and take note of the birds in the sky. She spells out love confessions to you in the chords of her guitar. She whispers poems into your morning tea before she brings it to you, careful hands cradling a mug full of love.

She knows it’s the string of fate that’s drawn her in to you. Why, why else would her family end up in Twelve?

Barb Azure teases her endlessly for the affections she harbours, and Lucy Gray will swat away her cousin with flaming cheeks and hiss half-baked threats but she’ll never deny it. There’s no denying it. There’s no denying the love she has for you, more certain than anything. She knows she loves you like she knows that the sun smiles in the sky. She’ll do anything to be around you.

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Barb Azure asks her casually one warm summer’s evening. The two are side by side in the little stone kitchen of the Covey cottage, occasionally brushing elbows as they chop vegetables in unison. It’s a comforting touch, domestic, homely. Golden-pink sun streams in through the mottled windows, and Lucy Gray basks in it like a snake. The back door is pinned open so that the children, and the strange shaggy dog Clerk Carmine’s brought home, and Maude Ivory’s goat can all trot in and out as they please. In the distance, she can see you all playing, wrestling, giggling freely, hear CC’s shrieking melodious laughter. Lucy Gray’s so at peace in this moment that she forgets she’s been asked a question.

Barb Azure’s bare foot nudges her shin gently. “Lu. What’ll you do? ‘Bout her?”

She shrugs. “Same thing I’ve always done. Keep on loving her, and take what I can get.” She seems perfectly at peace with it, and Barb Azure sighs.

“You’ll get a whole lot more if you tell her how you feel,” she chastises.

“Why, and ruin a perfectly good thing?” Lucy Gray retorts, elusive, half-mirthful, a twinkle in her eye but a weight to her words. “No, I don’t think I will, Barb Azure.”

“Aw, hold your tongue now,” Barb Azure grumbles, “cause it’ll be this old dog who’s wipin’ your tears when the belle finds someone else.” She nudges Lucy Gray good-naturedly before moving over to the stove, but Lucy Gray stays frozen, blood running cold. She hasn’t even thought of that, but it’s true, you could find someone else. Who, she wonders? What kind of person would you go for? You’ve been one of the Covey for years, you eat here and sleep here and make music with them and the rest of it, and you don’t really talk to anyone else. Would you go for one of the boys? Tam Amber, or Billy Taupe? The thought of anyone else all up on you like that makes her shiver. She can live with never being able to have you, she’s done it this far, but she’s not sure she’d handle it if someone else could.

The thought weighs heavy on her mind, and she’s quiet for the rest of the night.

It’s only a handful of days after that you’re out gathering berries with some of the others. Lucy Gray comes with for a while, but she’s not really there, she’s not herself, and after finding a few wild apricots she feebly murmurs about going home to pit them. You watch with concern but she’s gone before you can say otherwise, walking off with her head lowered, and you decide to respect her wish to be alone.

You try to ignore the loss of her at your side as you laugh and joke with the others. You never feel content when you’re not with her, though — she’s the only one who can soothe your temples and still your thoughts.

“You okay, Y/N? You been starin’ at that bush for the better part o’ four minutes,” grins Tam Amber.

“Nay, she’s just mopin’. Gets all moony when she’s away from her Lu,” CC butts in, before tossing a blackberry into the air and catching it in his mouth.

“My Lu?” you ask, caught off guard.

“Well, yeah. So much pinin’ you could build your own forest.”

“I ain’t— I don’t pine for no one,” you tell him shakily.

He just shrugs. “Coulda fooled me. You been lookin at Lucy Gray like she hung the stars in the sky since day one.”

You frown, mulling his words over. Is that true? You love Lucy Gray, more than anything, but it’s never really occurred to you that your love for her could be like that. Sure, she’s the prettiest girl you’ve ever met, you’d do anything for her. She’s so kind, so gentle and sweet, but she’s so quick and so fiery. She has a fierce wit to her that’ll send you rolling and reeling in equal measures. She’s always, always on your mind. Sure, your mind goes straight to her when you hear a love song, but— oh no.

“I think you broke her,” Billy Taupe observes.

“I’m, uhm,” you feel your palms grow clammy as you’re overwhelmed with the need for a moment to yourself, “I’ll head back home, and— and start sorting through this,” you look down at your half-filled basket and begin to hurry away. No one stops you, but you feel eyes on you long after you’ve rounded the corner.

You’re a mess. Your hands are shaking, your eyes blurry, your mind spinning as you grapple with this newfound information. You’re in love with Lucy Gray. It’s so obvious that the kids have clocked it before you. God, you’re so stupid. Of course friends don’t love each other like this. You don’t feel this way about Barb Azure or Tam Amber. This could ruin everything, if you ever let it escape you. No, you determine resolutely, you are not going to ruin the only family you’ve ever had. Having Lucy Gray in your life at all is something so impossibly holy that you refuse point blank to risk ever losing it. You will not lose the Covey. You’ll take this to the grave.

Your feet have carried you home before you know it, and you stumble into the kitchen, panting. There are tears streaming down your face, you realise, and you shakily wipe them away only for more to appear.

“Y/N?” says a soft voice at the door, one you love more than anything, and you look up to see the girl you’re agonising about. Annoyingly, you want nothing more than to crawl into her arms. “Hey, baby, you okay?”

“M’fine,” you murmur, hastily brushing away more tears, but she’s stepping towards you with outstretched arms, and then you’re in them and you’re safe.

“Shhh, sh sh sh,” she soothes you, guiding you into the room you share with her, running her fingers through your hair. “What is it, sweet girl, what’s bothering you?”

“It really is stupid,” you tell her thickly. “CC said something, I guess it freaked me out, ‘n got to me a bit.”

Lucy Gray lets out a surprised little laugh and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. “And why’re you givin’ a shit about what he’s got to say, huh? Clerk Carmine’s a twelve year old boy. Can’t get more insensitive than that.”

You nod tearfully, gratefully accepting the comfort of her pressing her forehead to yours and toying with your fingers.

“What’s he said to get you all wound up, baby?” she asks you. You hesitate, reddening, and look away.

“Really was stupid,” you mumble.

“You can tell me,” she promises, eyes dark and soft. You bite your lip.

“Just… that I treat you different to the others, I guess,” you admit, words flowing like butter. She could get anything out of you. Lucy Gray stiffens a little in surprise. “Or like, I love you different.”

“Yeah? How’d you mean?” Her words are soft, gentle, and you feel no less soothed than before. Cautiously, you continue.

“He… said I’m pinin’ for you,” you confess, mere minutes after swearing to yourself those words would never reach her ears.

“And are you?”

You stop up short at the bluntness of her question. Her gaze is unreadable, and you inwardly curse her poker face. “I— uhm, what?”

“Are you pinin’ for me?” Lucy Gray repeats.

“I…” You lamely gape like a fish. “I mean, I guess, I don’t know.”

“If I kissed you, d’you think that’d be something you could enjoy?” she asks you. Her tone’s shifted into something different now, and you can’t quite identify it but it has liquid heat pooling in your stomach. Your breath is caught in your throat, you’re scared to make a sound and break this moment, and so you nod wordlessly.

Her hands meet at the nape of your neck and toy with the hairs there as she slowly brings her lips to yours.

Lucy Gray Baird is soft when she kisses you, gentle. She kind of cradles you, her touch delicate, the way she is with her snakes or that fawn she nursed once — as though you might startle at any moment. You don’t know whether to close your eyes and savor the moment or keep them open and commit her to memory forever. You’re utterly beside yourself.

The kiss doesn’t last too long, she keeps it short and sweet, pecking your lips one final time before resting her forehead against yours contentedly.

“You okay, baby?” she asks after a moment, feeling you shaking against her. She leans back to get a better read on you and her brow furrows at your distress. “Sweet girl, I— did I overstep? Oh god, I’m so sorry, I —”

“No,” you manage to choke out. “No, it’s good, I just— this is a lot— I think I’ve loved you forever.”

Lucy Gray melts at that, pulling you in close and letting you rest your head against her chest, soothing her fingers through your hair. “Shhh, sh, it’s okay. Let it out, baby. You know, I always felt like there’s a reason the Covey was brought to Twelve,” she tells you. “I’m so sure it’s always fate, you know? And my momma was too. I always wondered what it was, I’d feel whispers of things at the edges of towns, I spent so long lookin’ for signs I’d never find. And then you brought one to me, you brought me flowers and ribbons and handfuls of love… and then I wasn’t looking for signs anymore. I was seein’ em everywhere I went, and you was bringin’ em to me every Sunday. And it was the holiest thing I ever felt.”

“You’re everything,” you manage, breathless. “I’m not— I’m no bard like you, Lu— you’re everything.”

“I love you,” she tells you, the intensity of her dark gaze setting you alight, “I love you sure as there’s stars in the sky.”

You lie in Lucy Gray’s arms long into the night, and she holds you, whispering to you how much she loves you. When morning comes, you know the stars will still be there, even if they can’t be found. And you know that when she rolls out of bed later than usual on Sunday, her day of rest, and you bring her flowers and ribbons held together with love, she’ll beam brighter than anything and you’ll have a sky full of stars in your arms.

#lucy gray baird x reader #lucy gray baird #lucy gray baird x fem reader #lucy gray baird x female reader #lucy gray baird x you #lucy gray #lucy gray x reader #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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wasabidottie · 4 months

Text

Notes (Jschlatt)

Summery: schlatt has a hard time articulating his feelings for you so he leaves you notes

In the quiet corners of your shared space, amidst the chaos of everyday life, you found little surprises left by Schlatt—notes, drawings, and scribbles that were his unconventional way of showing affection. Some were sweet, some were humorous, and some... well, some were just downright absurd.

You'd find them in the most unexpected places—a note stuck to the fridge with a magnet, a doodle tucked inside a book you were reading, or even a message scribbled hastily on a scrap of paper.

The notes varied greatly. Some were simple reminders or words of encouragement, while others were laden with Schlatt's signature humor—dry jokes, sarcasm, and even the occasional crude doodle. They ranged from being endearing to downright ridiculous, and each one held a piece of Schlatt's peculiar charm.

One note read: "Roses are red, violets are blue, you're cute... yeah, that's all I got." Another had a poorly drawn heart accompanied by the words "Tried my best to draw a heart for you, but it looks like a fuckin' potato."

There were times when his attempts at humor were slightly off-color, with drawings that might be considered offensive by some. A crude doodle here, a slightly phallic-looking sketch there—things that made you roll your eyes but also made you chuckle at their absurdity.

Despite the eccentricities of his notes, you understood the sentiment behind them. Schlatt wasn't great with expressing affection through conventional means, but these scribbles were his way of reaching out, of showing that he cared, in his own unique manner.

Among the jokes and doodles, there were moments of genuine sweetness that tugged at your heartstrings. A note left on your desk, simple and sincere: "Just thinking about you. Hope you're having a good day."

You started collecting these notes, tucking them away in a special box—a box filled with Schlatt's peculiar brand of affection, each one a reminder of his effort to connect with you in his own way.

And oddly enough, these little scribbles brightened your days. In a world where grand gestures often stole the spotlight, it was the small, unconventional notes from Schlatt that made you feel cherished and understood in a way only he could convey. Each silly drawing or joke was a silent declaration of his affection—a language that only the two of you understood.

#jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #chuckle sammy #jschlatt #schlatt #jschlatt x you #chuckle sandwich x reader #schlatt x you

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nomazee · 15 days

Note

Hello, how are you? 🥰

If it's okay, can I request, for the event, Ranpo + bodyguard!reader (Ranpo still being a famous?detective) + 3am? 😊

LOVED THIS CONCEPT i hope i did it justice,,, in a perfect world i would write like a million companion pieces to this but this is it FOR NOW… THANK U SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING!!

my 1k event!

—°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.—

“Do you really have to stay up like that?”

“Yes.”

Ranpo sighs, dropping back down onto the rock-hard bed and knocking the air out of his own chest. Just three feet away from him on the floor, you’re sat against the wall, arms crossed and legs stretched out in front of you. Your gaze is locked on the door of the motel room, which unnerves Ranpo. It feels like you’re a statue in his room, unmoving and cold, and he’d really like to go to bed without worrying about something as mundane as your comfort.

“There’s a couch right over there,” he gestures to the decently-sized sofa just a few paces away from your current position. “You can lay down, you know. Relax a little bit. Our main job is over.”

“This is my main job,” you correct him, breaking eye contact with the door in favor of glancing over at him. He’s turned onto his side now, head resting on top of his folded hands. Having you in his sight is more comforting than it has any right to be. It’s your job to keep him in your sights, but you’re too busy with the possibility of an intruder breaking through the door in front of you or the window behind you.

“Do you even sleep?” he asks. “You’ve been ‘on-duty’ for, what, twenty hours now? Don’t you think you deserve a nap, or something?”

“I’m paid by the hour,” you politely inform him, “this is fine to me. You’re not the first person I’ve done this job for, so I’m not an amateur.”

Another exasperated sigh tears its way out of his chest. You’re more stubborn than he is, and your tenacity is both admirable and frustrating. Both of you had gone around the city, taking buses and treading through alleyways for the entire day. You pulled your weapon out at least twice today, and Ranpo’s asked an awful lot of questions to an awful lot of people in his investigation. His mouth still feels dry from all the talking.

You’d gotten back much later than anticipated after finally making an arrest. Getting the local police to cooperate was a hassle, but Ranpo’s track record was enough to prove his points ten times over. On top of that, you’d singlehandedly restrained the criminal when the cops wouldn’t do anything about it, and Ranpo thinks you might deserve a place in his spotlight for all your hard work.

The point is—it’s late, and you both expended all your energy, yet Ranpo is still on-edge because you’re sitting straight up against the wall like a freakish owl. Fukuzawa was kind enough to let the both of you stay overnight at a motel before taking a train back to Yokohama tomorrow at noon. He’d be disappointed if he learned that Ranpo let you sleep on the floor. Or not sleep at all.

“It’s not about being an amateur,” Ranpo groans, turning to lay on his back again and staring up at the ceiling. “It’s about being a normal person and sleeping when you’re supposed to. Don’t be weird. Just lay down, or something.”

“...the floor is cold.”

“Seriously?” he clicks his tongue. “I told you, there’s a couch right there.”

“The couch is cold too. There’s no blankets. If I can’t sleep comfortably, I’d rather not sleep at all.”

The admission rings a little too loud in the otherwise empty room. Ranpo is sure there’s some underlying story behind that, something that he could easily discern in just a second. But he’s tired, and he actually likes you, so he’ll give you another day before he starts tearing into your background like a rabid animal chewing at fast food scraps.

Ranpo sits up yet again, exhausted from all the times he’s changed position in bed, and shuffles over to the far side of the bed that’s pressed against the wall. He tugs the blankets closer to him but leaves a nice empty spot for you on the other side, patting it with his hand. “Look, a warm comfy place on an actual bed. Can you sleep now?”

You blink up at him, and he’s struck with the image of an owl yet again. It would be endearing if you weren’t so odd. “You really don’t have to do that, Edogawa.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Don’t call me that! Nobody else does. Just lay down and go to bed already! I need a good seven hours before I can even move again.”

You laugh at that, which is a small unspoken victory in Ranpo’s head. It’s a small thing, breathy and meant to be hidden, but Ranpo pays attention to it because of course he does. Finally, you stand up from your cramped place beneath the window and slowly make yourself comfortable on the side of the bed newly reserved for you. Ranpo hopes that you didn't interpret his words as a command, and are doing this of your own volition instead—but a victory is a victory, and he’s just relieved that you’ve stopped staring bug-eyed at the door.

“No one will break in,” he says, a last-ditch effort at reassurance to really make sure you’re not just laying on your back at high-alert the whole night. “And if they do, you’ll just kick their ass. You’ll be fine.”

You make a vague noise in response, back already turned to him as you sink into the mattress. Ranpo’s consciousness dwindles as the weariness starts to sink into his bones like an ache, and he wonders if Fukuzawa would hire you again if Ranpo asked him enough times.

#nora hits 1k #ranpo x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #ranpo edogawa x reader #edogawa ranpo x reader #edogawa x reader #bsd ranpo x reader #i haven’t watched bsd in so long i’ve lost my touch….i hope he’s mostly in character

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