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theghostofblackbunnymask · 3 years

Note

Can I request some Dream with y11, a8 and a10...?

Author's note- This was based on a dream I had with yandere dream, and as always, sleepy bois inc family is canon in this story, and Y/N is the second youngest, older than Tommy but younger than the twins Techno and Wilbur. Also, Mumza is in here, I don't see her in a lot of fanfics that included the SBI family dynamic.

Author's note 2- The first half of this fic is mainly SBI fluff, then the rest will be Dream x Reader

Author's note- this isn't the best but I tried, wasn't in the best mind space when I wrote this.

Warnings- Implied Abuse, Kidnapping, Gaslighting (?)

Yandere Dream x Reader

Y/N banged on Techno's door, their legs being close to giving up due to exhaustion. Techno yawned as his walked towards the door with an axe in hand, his hair covering most of his face, it was around 2 AM when Y/N knocked on his door. Techno opened the door and saw Y/N looking at him with despair, wearing nothing but a T-shirt that wasn't their's, and they had a black eye.

"Y/N?" Techno asked, since he hasn't seen his little sibling in years.

"Techno... Let me in, please..." Y/N said, barely being able to speak before they collapsed, and everything going black.

The next morning...

Y/N woke up in their old bedroom, the entire room looking like it hasn't been touched in years. Touching their face, they felt bandages covering their left eye. Tommy walked into the room holding a plate of pancakes and bacon. Looking up, Tommy almost dropped it the moment he saw Y/N.

"Y-Y/N..." Tommy said.

"Hey Tommy..." Y/N said, giving him a sad smile.

Tommy ran toward Y/N and knocked them over, hugging them as he cried.

"We thought you were dead! After you didn't show up after you went hunting, we looked every where and we couldn't find you. I thought you..."

Y/N hugged Tommy back and rubbed his back. Tommy pulled back and rubbed his tears away.

"Where were you?"

Y/N looked at the ground and shook their head, implying they didn't want to talk about it. Tommy just nodded before standing up.

"Come down stairs once your done," Tommy said, before closing the door.

Y/N picked up their plate, looking down at it, waiting for something to happen. The words that Dream said kept replaying in their head.

"Ugh, you're getting fat again, you know what, no food for the next 2 weeks, got it?"

Y/N hands shook as they backed away from the food. Y/N gripped Dream's shirt as they held back tears. Y/N just grabbed a piece of bacon and ate it with their eyes closed. When they realised how good it was, they ate more and more until their plate was clean.

Y/N got up and walked down stairs, Wilbur lying down on the couch while he listened to Tommy rant about Ranboo and Tubbo, Techno was no where to be seen, and Phil was doing the dishes in another room. Wilbur glanced at you before walking up to you and hugging you.

"I thought Techno was fucking with me when he told me you were back, but you really are!"

"Heh, yeah," Y/N said, hugging Wilbur back.

"Where's Dadza?" (They call Phil Dadza instead of dad)

"In the kitchen," Tommy said, taking Wilbur's spot on the couch.

Y/N left as Wilbur began pulling Tommy off the couch.

"HEY STOP IT MAN!"

"GET OFF THE FUCKING COUCH TOMMY!"

Y/N giggled as they entered the kitchen, chat was annoying Phil as he did the dishes. Phil saw the crows fly towards Y/N and started to fly around them. Y/N giggled as they let two crows on their shoulders.

"Hey Dadza," Y/N said, hugging Phil who hugged them back.

"My God, you look so... different, not like it's a bad thing of course but, where the hell were you, if you were going on vacation you should of told us," Phil said, rubbing Y/N's hair.

Y/N just giggled as the crows kept flying around them.

"Yeah I know. Hey, where's Mumza? If she here right now or is she working?" Y/N asked.

"Uhhhh, I think she's in the forest outside."

Y/N waved goodbye as they left, the crows flying after them.

"Finally those things leave me alone..." Phil sighed in relief.

Y/N walked in the forest while the crows flew behind them, and they stopped when they saw a familiar hat.

"Mumza?"

Kristen looked down behind her and saw a familiar figure. Shrinking down so she wasn't above the trees, she saw a familiar face.

"Y/N..." Kristen said as she walked towards them and placed a hand on their cheek as she covered her mouth, hiding her smile.

"Hey Mumza..."

Kristen began to cry tears of joy as she hugged them.

"I knew you weren't dead, when I checked the limbos and the train station you weren't in neither of them," She said, backing away.

"Oh my, what happen to your face?"

"I don't really remember," Y/N lied.

"Y/N, you know it's wrong to lie to your mother."

Y/N giggled as their mother gave them a stern look.

"I don't really want to talk about it, it's a long story."

"Ok sweetie, now stay safe, I don't want you going missing again, we were worried sick that something happened to you."

"I know, Dadza told me."

Mumza just shook her head with a smile before kissing them on the cheek, like she did when they were very young. Kristen waved goodbye before disappearing into black dust. Chat flew back to Phil's house, leaving Y/N all alone in the woods. Y/N just sat under a tree as they listen to the nature sounds. A fox walked by and slept next to them, bringing Y/N some joy.

Fast forward to night...

Tommy opened Y/N's door in at panic before closing it behind him. Y/N was on their bed reading when the teen came in.

"Tommy, what the hell are you doing here?"

"TOMMY WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!"

"I may have stolen Will's guitar..."

"That doesn't sound that bad."

"And I may have broke it..." Tommy said, revealing a broken guitar from behind his back.

Y/N burst out into laughter, holding back tears as they laughed.

"You're so fucked!"

After Y/N said that Wilbur burst through the door, knocking Tommy over.

"Shit!" Tommy said, crawling under the bed.

"Get out from their you fucking gremlin," Wilbur said, trying to get tommy.

Techno walked by and just stood at the door way watching the commotion.

"Techno! Can you help me out?"

"Eh, looks like a you problem."

Wilbur groaned as he grabbed Tommy's leg, and once he did he pulled him out from under the bed. Y/N looked at Techno and just shrugged as he showed confusion. Wilbur picked Tommy up, opened the window, and threw Tommy out from it.

"SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!" Tommy yelled as he prepared himself as he fell.

But the ground never came, but instead felt himself get picked up. Looking up, he saw Kristen with a pissed off face.

"Willbur, what did I saw about throwing Tommy outside of windows!"

"Oooo, Will's getting yelled at by Mumza," Techno mocked, snickering.

"Oh shut up," Wilbur told Techno.

Kristen placed Tommy back inside of the house as she picked Wilbur up and scolded him.

"A 23 year old man getting scolded by his own mother, tsk tsk tsk," Tommy said, shaking his head in a disapproving manner.

"Now, I don't want to see anymore fighting or throwing each other out of windows or breaking each others things, am I making myself clear?"

"Yes Mumza," Wilbur and Tommy said, sighing in defeat.

Kristen nodded before Disappearing into black dust.

"Your getting me a new guitar Tommy," Wilbur said.

"Fine, asshole," Tommy said as he left.

Techno and Will left, leaving Y/N alone. Picking up their book, they noticed that, all the words on the pages were gone. Scrolling through the book, the only thing their was a smiley face. Y/N looked around confused before closing the book.

"He's gone Y/N, your free, don't let your imagination ruin it," Y/N said, putting the book in their drawers.

Later that night...

Y/N slowly opened their eyes and saw a too familiar face staring at them. Before they can screen, Dream covered their mouth and placed a finger over his mouth, silently telling them to hush up. Dream had a sinister smile on his face, he didn't have his mask on, but instead it rested on the side of his head. His green eyes glowed in the darkness as he spoke.

“Scream all you want sweetie, no one’s going to hear you. And no one ever will…”

Y/N panicked and kicked Dream who was towering over them, in the dick, making him wince over and fall onto the floor in pain. Standing up, they ran out of the room and ran downstairs, opening the door and running out of the house. Dream recovered and chased after them.

"COME BACK HERE LOVE!" Dream yelled, running after them.

"Leave me alone, Leave me alone, Leave me alone, I don't want to go back," Y/N mumbled, running faster.

Y/N felt the air get knocked out of them when they fell to the ground, Dream pinning them down as he leaned in to whisper into their.

"Your pathetic... You're the child of the Angel Of Death and the Goddess Of Death, yet you get defeated by a mortal like myself... I guess I really am a God, just trapped in a mortal's body... I told you so many times Y/N, you're weak, you're nothing without me, you'll never be anything without my protection and care, your family doesn't care about, only I will waste my fucking time with you," Dream said, before knocking Y/N out.

Dream picked Y/N up and slung them over his shoulder. As he walked through the forest, he thought about something, a little gift to leave in Y/N's room for the family to see. Sitting Y/N down, he written down on a note 'Thanks for the gift :)' before running back to the house, quietly going in Y/N room to leave it on the bed. Then he ran out and went on his merry way.

The next day...

Tommy went to wake Y/N up, but he was greeted by a messing, dishevelled room.

"What the... What the fuck happened in here?" Tommy asked, looking around.

Once he got to the bed he saw the note, when he picked it up he almost dropped it instantly. Tommy ran down stairs and waved the note in the air.

"They're gone, Y/N's gone!"

"What do you mean?" Phil asked.

"This note was on their bed, and their room was a mess."

Techno grabbed the note as he skimmed over it, his face that held confusion turned to realization and then went to anger.

"What's wrong Techno?" Kristen asked.

"I know this handwriting from anywhere... Dream has them."

"What?!" Wilbur and Tommy asked.

"H-How? Y/N's never met Dream," Tommy said.

"How can we know that for a fact? Y/N was missing for years, and now they come back mysteriously in a panicked manner and in a very unhealthy condition."

"What are you leading towards Techno?" Phil asked.

"My theory is that Y/N was with Dream the years they were missing, and it wasn't by choice. I'm not sure how they met, but they definently have some sort of relationship, and it isn't heathly."

"What does Dream look like?" Kristen asked.

"Why do you ask?"

"I can ask Drista or XD to help me, I have a feeling Dream's linked to the two in some way, and it can help me locate him with the crows help."

"No one's really seen his face," Tommy said.

"But one thing that stands out is his mask, he wears this smiley mask all the time, making it impossible to see his face."

"With that info given to Mumza, what's the plan?" Wilbur asked.

Techno let out a dark chuckle as his eyes went dark.

"Oh I have a plan... And it's not going to be easy..."

With Y/N and Dream...

Y/N looked up and their hands were above their head, cuffed to the wall with no way to escape. Their legs were tied together, and the shirt they were wearing was gone, leaving them in just their undergarments. Looking up, Dream was sitting on a chair, looking at them dead in the eyes with a pissed off expression as he sharpened his netherite sword.

"Tell me this Y/N, what made you get the confidence and ego to pull this BULLSHIT on me?!"

Dream stood up and grabbed their face

"I give you everything, anything! If you want it I get it for you. But you just had to get selfish and leave me, you're fucking disgusting."

"I'm not disgusting..." Y/N mumbled.

"What did you say whore?"

"You heard me, I'm not disgusting! You're the one that fucking kidnapped me and hid me away for years, starving me whenever I got 'too fat?' WHAT BULLSHIT IS THAT?! You physically and emotionally abuse me, and you do this just because you love me? I believed you for years, but when I got to see my family again I remembered what real love was, and this, this isn't love! You need fucking help Dream, and after this I'm going to need fucking therapy due to your FUCKING BULLSHIT!"

Dream slapped Y/N hard across the face, before putting his hand around Y/N's throat.

“Your life is in my hands, don’t test me, ok?”

"I'm not testing you Dream, I'm telling you the truth. You're just too caught up in your ego to see it."

Dream began to chuckle, before going into a hysterical laughter.

"Oh~ Y/N just doesn't know when to shut up..." Dream said, before kicking them in the stomach.

"Being with your family for 1 day made you get your ego, confidence and self respect back... Now that's not good," Dream continued, stabbing his netherite sword into Y/N's hands, making them scream in pain.

Dream began to hurt punch them over and over again until he got bored.

"DREAM PLEASE STOP! I'M AT HALF A HEART!" Y/N yelled, looking up at Dream with pleading eyes.

Dream just smiled, his eyes glowing as he looked down at them.

"Oh Y/N... I could kill you right now, and no one would care! NOBODY! And if people did care, where's your family? Where's your friends? Only I care about you, only I can make you happy, only I can touch you the way I do, and only I can love you..."

Y/N's brain just completely shut down as they stared down at the floor with emotionless eyes. Y/N began to cry, tears rolling down their face as they thrashed against their restraints.

"No! You're wrong! Youre..." Y/N said, before they felt Dream grab their chin.

"Care to finish that?"

Y/N just shook their head no, being too tired to do anything, and having too many mental and physical scars to even care anymore.

"Now, who's the only one that can love you?

"You..."

"And who do you love?"

"You..."

"Good..."

Dream unlocked their cuffs and watched as they fell to Y/N's side limply. Dream placed Y/N in his lap and ran his hand through their hair.

"You're all mine... And not even you're family can change that..."

#yandere dream #yandere dream smp #yandere dream x reader #yandere mcyt #dream smp x reader #dreamsmp x reader #myct x reader #dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #Yandere dreamwastaken

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dana-chan-the-control-brain · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on, Invader Zim Quarterly: Holiday Special

WEEEE WISH YOU A MERRY JINGLY WE WISH YOU A MERRY JINGLY!

Ahhhhh It’s out! I’m so excited!

But I always get excited when it has my man Membrane and my man Eric Trueheart involved with the comics.

Also santa.. Tbh, I was excited and nervous about this quarterly.

Excited because it has Membrane santa backstory...

But I was nervous because that it means they might bring back the santa-blob monster from the Holiday special on the TV... and The Christmas special is one of my least favorite IZ episodes... I mean... I rewatch it occasionally, and it’s fun, but I’m just kinda used to IZ having more BITE in it’s satire if you know what I mean? The Christmas Special in the IZ universe doesn’t really say anything about the capitalism of Christmas... it’s not like IZ hasn’t made fun of capitalism before. (that’s the whole show) The Christmas Special in the show just kinda fell flat of my expectations of what an Invader Zim episode should be....

The only thing I respect the Holiday Special for, is that it goes down the “Santa isn’t real” route in a kid’s show and sticks to it. (there’s no “real santa” that shows up and “solves everything”) All of the “Santa’s Helpers” confused the Santa mythos with the Christianity Jesus mythos. (”waiting one day for his return”) Which makes sense, since IZ is like dystopian future Suburbia Hell. I just kinda like that there’s no “real santa” that interfered to “fix everything” and that Zim himself ended up CREATING Santa when he didn’t exist previously. Like I find that kinda cool...

Other then that, I just kinda wanted something else from the Hoilday special then what I got. (It taking priority over scrapped episodes like “the trail” and “Ten minutes to doom” and “mopiness of doom” does not help it’s case in being one of my C-tier episodes...)

So maybe this quarterly will fill the void of what I wanted out of a Holiday special? Well, let’s see.

SPOILERS FOR THE QUARTERLY BELOW THE CUT

Ways to get Dana off-board immediately: Monster Santa is canon.

I always never liked to view the special as canon for ways that it fell flat before.

And I had the excuse of saying that the snowman was an unreliable narrator and I could adapt it down the line in my fic as a different story.

I just didn’t like the idea of Monster-horror-blob santa... Like... Cool design... but he just kinda represents everything I disliked about the special... (including the major inconsistency of when Tak’s ship got fixed...)

But then again.. I need to remember IZ’s lore isn’t as consistent as I think it is sometimes...

Okay, fine. Monster blob santa real... what else you got for me, Holiday special?

FACE HUGGER SANTA! FACE HUGGER SANTA! I AM NOT INTO IT!

WHAT?! WHAT?! WHAT?! NO. DANA HATES THIS!

Okay, kinda into it because this means that ZIM CREATED SANTA in this mythos... I am dying.... wait.. this takes place in the future then...soo...?

haoFhaGHAOhfgg

It was all a dream?!

GOOD.

my heart couldn’t take it if horror-santa was real...

Also... that nightcap and bed... Does this mean we’re going to have an Invader Zim Christmas Carol?!?!?! I know that’s been adapted a schmillion times but I would be so into that....

Also... Flying... hamm...

Good ol’ Zim... Repressing those memories...

Also this being the THIRD ETF reference in a quarterly, It can be very safe to say the Quarterly issues take place after the events of ETF.

Clembrane exists in the Quarterly, Membrane has robot arms, Zim remembers this (kinda) Yeah this is definately ETF verse and it’s here to stay.

Christmas Carol?! I’m down for this... and I can’t help but notice their claws look familiar

OH HOLY HELL I WAS RIGHT! THESE GUYS! I LOVE THESE GUYS?!

Why are you here tho?

I’m a bit lost on why these guys wanta take over the earth, but they’re hilarious so I’m just glad they’re here.

Also... The Christmas Special is Schrodinger's Christmas... did it happen, or was it a dream, or the tales of a lunatic snowman... I guess I’ll never know.

The issue goes on for an IZ Christmas Carol parody (heck yea) and the visions are all hilarious and I’m not gonna spoil them here... but...

Eric.... this is terrifying..........thanks I hate it.

TINY DIB THOUGH! GHAOGHAHGAHAHA

THIS IS GREAT

THE MORE DIB SUFFERS THE MORE I LOVE IT!

“Though I am Dib and sickly father”

I’m dying XDDDDD

Also... What the fuck is Zim’s reaction here...

I find it funny that Zim has put Dib into simulated realities before... (in the show and comics) and in the show, Dib is all powerful and in the comics, Dib is just himself and Zim is his brother..

But seeing a simulated Dib all weak and pathetic and chronically ill BOTHERS ZIM?!?!

That’s... well that’s interesting.

Thought he’d laugh at this honestly, but he seems greatly annoyed...

I CHANGED MY MIND! THIS IS THE BEST THING!

(those who know me know why I’m dying over this)

YES!!!

ZIM DOESN’T LIKE WHEN PEOPLE FEEL BAD FOR HIM OR PITY HIM!

(which confirms like a lot of my hcs and adds spicy kindling to my au much mad respect)

This I find interesting... Zim complepative over his lonely/abandoned grave. It’s like he really doesn’t know how to feel. It’s more of a numbness then a sadness. Or he noticed how empty his life is...

He feels lonely and empty about it... which tracks considering how Zim’s greatest fear in the Trial was to be deleted and never be remembered by anyone.

I don’t know... This panel makes me feel things...

Johnen: Haha. Zim’s not that deep a character.

Eric: Hey for the Christmas special, let’s have Zim parody a Christmas carol and feel lonely staring at his own empty grave when he realizes no one cares about him or misses him.

Johnen: Cool. Do it.

What are you two assholes doing to me, man?! I have feelings!

AND ONCE AGAIN!

Zim hates pity and people feeling bad and sorry for him.

Man this makes me so sad... And it really feels like this issue looked into my brain again, cause I have some plans relating to Zim not wanting sympathy or pity from anyone later down the line (okay I’ll shut up about my au. We’re talking Zim here)

And of course, Zim breaks everything like he usually does. (this time on purpose)

Also nice callback that Zim remembered that Dib said he liked his boots one time in the Poop-wizard issue.

Also, it ends? I guess this quarterly has a few shorter stories this time... which I’m fine with.

Also, Zim should consider Green and Blue like D-list friends at this point and just invite them in for some fundip or something (come on, Zim, it’s Christmas.....)

GASP!?!?!

LITTLE MEMBRANE!!!

AND GRANDPARENTS CONFIRMED!!!

Wait... so his Parents are scientists too? Is that why he always wanted to be a scientist?

But then wait.... If Membrane inherited Membrane Labs from his parents... Why is HIS FACE the brand of the Company?..... There’s so much Membrane-face brand merch in the show. (it decorates his home..)

Like even if they were dead, if his parents founded Membrane labs, I feel they’d still be the face. of the company... (that’s how a lot of corporate faces are these days... they show some old dead guy who made the company as opposed to the son who inherited the Company.... Like everyone knows who Walt Disney/Mickey Mouse is, but unless you pay close attention to that kinda thing, not everyone knows who the current chairman or CEO is in the modern age....)

I just find that a bit odd.

Anyways... I feel people can still do what they want with Membrane’s parents and get away with it. I’m not changing my “his parents were farmers” headcanon. Sorry comic..

BUT I LOVE THEIR DESIGNS.

I love how Membrane looks a lot like his mother, and his father is just BUFF GAZ with a pipe.... Truely legends.

GASP!!!

COLLEGEBRANE COLLEGEBRANE COLLEGEBRANE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LOOKOUT DIB, THIS IS YOUR FUTURE!

I FUCKING LOVE HOW OILY HE LOOKS.. AND IT ADDS UP CAUSE...

The Membrane Men when they don’t shower or bathe in months.....

Someone help these two.

(thank god Membrane got better at personal hygiene.)

Also Teenbrane STILL has his human arms and not his robo-arms.

This means he loses his arms later in life... YUSH HORRAY FOR HEADCANNONS BEING VALIDATED!

He didn’t lose his arms in a shark accident when he was a KID! It happened WAY LATER!

NICE!

OH MY GOD HE IS BABY!

HE IS SO SHY AND ACKWARD! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

I LOVE HIM!

He is just... all sweat and hiding his work but also very passionate and spiteful.

Like you can see who he grew up to become, and you can also see how a kid like Dib came out of a man like him...

But I love social anxiety awkward early twenties/late teens Membrane... He is a baby!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

MEMBRANE ;w;

Basically, Membrane knows that Santa isn’t real, but he doesn’t want to be mad at his parents so he harbors a grudge on Santa instead... THAT’S SO SWEET I’M CRYING TTmTT

LIKE THAT IS SO SWEET AND I’M CRYING!

(also I love how me and Ceph understand Membrane’s character too well that the gesture he does in the 2nd panel here are reminisant of our fic so many times... Like we have his mannerisms down and I love when the mask slips from Membrane and we get to see a real person... augh soo good)

WHO GAVE THEM THE RIGHT TO MAKE MY MAN THIS SAD?! ONLY I CAN MAKE HIM SAD!

MEMBRANE TTMTT

AUUUGHH

Also probably guessing the parents are dead... I’m just laughing at their designs...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

Yes you are, Professor Membrane... Don’t let anyone tell you different. (actually, please do) Well, I mean, At least you’re trying and get progressively better.

(also... this probably means everytime Dib has asked his Dad for a dangerous weapon to fight Zim with, Membrane just gives it to him no questions asked and I’m doing a MAJOR concern about this man’s parenting skills... get help please good sir!)

Also, Dib really saved the day again here (like he did in Dib’s big day)

Dib called about destroying santa when Membrane was in one of his lowest points... He hides it really well... Especially from his children..

Ah.. I loved that one.

But I’m a huge Membrane Simp though.

I did find the stuff about Membrane’s parents a little weird... like I said regarding how Membrane’s face is the brand of Membrane labs...

Could be true that they were other scientists and that Membrane founded Membrane labs later... but that seems highly unlikely...

Also... Why does the house look that hug when in the christmas special, it looked kinda like...well... just not that, and kinda more humble from the interior and not some big rocket lab...

So yeah... AMAZING character building for Membrane (which I eat up)

Hilarious Grandparent Designs. But I still prefer @esthyradler ‘s Grandparents. The superior Grandparents.

Anyways... The Quarterly was GREAT!

I kinda find it funny the Zim story is the weaker one of the two again... But I honestly blame the Christmas Horror blob connection and the Christmas Carol parody.

Or maybe my Membrane Bias is clouding my mind here. I do have Zim bias but sometimes Zim can frustrate me. There’s just so many times Zim can do and say the same things you know? Zim is my baby, but sometimes his denial and annoyance with everyone can be very predictable at points. Zim was just way more fun in the last quarterly than this one.

With Membrane it’s more of a blank slate what to do with him cause he ony started really mattering as a character since ETF. Yes, I do love show Membrane, but I admit he wasn’t exactly a character then. More of a presence and excuse for why Dib had access to lab equipment. With Dib’s Dilemma and this Hoilday special, the Quarterly folks seem determined to turn him into a fully realized character with the rest of the cast and I’m extremely excited to hear that!

(Computer issue/backstory WHEN?!)

I don’t really have ratings or systems for these but hope you liked my thoughts.

Merry Christmas everyone.

#Invader Zim #invader zim quarterly #IZ comics #IZ comics Spoilers #danachan's rants #Professor Membrane

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scrapyardboyfriends · 2 years

Text

Late watch of today’s episode...

At least there was only minimal Chas but god what a miserable person. She barged her way into the B&B and basically forced Eric to take her on and then when he wants her to actually do something instead of staring wistfully at the pub, she just snaps at him. Do they realize they’ve made her into such an utterly loathsome character? They could have really made an effort to do something new with Chas outside the pub and give the character a refresh but they don’t even understand the problem to begin with. I mean they should have done the same with Charity when she got forced out of the pub but they really didn’t. Sigh.

And I still don’t understand why the pub is so dead. That’s literally all there is to do in this village. Everyone just goes to the pub, for a drink for their lunch for their tea/dinner whatever. They do meetings there etc. And now? Nothing. You’re telling me all these people would rather trek up to an outdoor pursuits center to eat amongst the kayaks than go to the local, heart of the village, pub? I just don’t buy it. And if the B&B is still functional and not particularly suffering, then where are those people going? Are they going to the Hide too? Are they only eating in the B&B restaurant? I understand they wanted to maybe show a business suffering due to covid or whatever but this is just nonsense. You’re telling me Dan and Jimmy and Nicola and Zak and Bear and Faith and Will and Kerry and David and Liam and Leyla and Mandy etc are just never going to their local pub? It’s ridiculous. I know it likely can’t survive on locals alone but still, it’s just dumb. And now that covid restrictions are easing up in filming, they really need to make the pub a success again because this sad, empty set is just pointless at this stage. They need to make use of it again. Getting pub scenes back with larger groups of characters could really inject a lot of life back into the show.

The whole Billy/Dawn/Alex plot is also absurd. First of all, they’ve been married five minutes. Yes they dated before the Malone stuff so he did have a previous relationship with Lucas but really, does he need to adopt him? Like right now? Just be his step dad for a bit and see if this marriage lasts because in this village...haha. But also, the fact that Dawn would really agree to sell drugs for Alex and not just tell Billy and maybe they get some money together between the two of them? Hell, sue Meena for emotional damages. Haha. It’s just so stupid and forced and lazy. I hate it.

As for the teens...sigh. I want them to use the teens. I do. And Samson is lovely and I just want him to have nice things. And Amelia is not annoying me for once so that’s nice. But that party was pathetic. And they’ve done such a terrible job in the past utilizing these kids who have grown up on the show that it just feels so weird even seeing them interact with each other. I mean Samson was in like 10 episodes last year and the year before. Amelia was only in 16 and not doing much in those 16 episodes either. I don’t know, some of them are just barely characters and need a lot more to them before any of this feels believable. I mean, it’s fine and it does make a change from the miserable adults but it needs some work. And Noah is just such an asshole and I don’t understand what they’re trying to do with him and where this is all going other than maybe him getting Amelia pregnant? Or maybe he just drives Samson to sleep with someone and he gets someone pregnant? Or Chloe is already pregnant from when she and Jacob slept together? I just...I don’t know...it all needs better writing. But also I want to keep beautician Samson forever. It’s great.

#emmerdale complaints corner #belated live blogging #ed lb

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toonbly · 3 years

Note

Oh please do give us the essay I would LOVE to hear your thoughts.. your Freemind content is like kisses directly to my brain 's all so good.

OKAY SO LIKE. quick tw for discussions about internalized transphobia and internalized homophobia

QUICK CLARIFICATIONS: I’m a queer transmasc nonbinary and some of this is projection. A LOT of this is cherry-picking from and overanalyzing little bits of FM canon.

im gonna put this under a readmore to save yalls dashboards

HERES WHY FREEMINDS NARRATIVE IS 10X MORE INTERESTING IF HE’S QUEER:

So some things to cover: We’re cherry picking from canon and MOST of this is based off of fanon interpretations of freemind’s character. i should also clarify that I myself am asexual and nonbinary transmasc (though i only use they/them pronouns), im not entirely sure of my romantic orientation but yknow, obviously im not cishet lol. Some of it’s self projection, some of it is character study, either way I think it’s important to clarify that some of this is my OWN experience and that what im outlining here obviously isn’t the universal queer experience.

SO COVERING CANON. like okay, most of us tend to go down the route of “Freemind is gay/bi/otherwise queer in terms of attraction and he’s just in denial of it” in our freemanverse content and like, if you pick apart the source material there’s canon backing for this! (ie: Freemind saying he can’t wear earrings cause sailors do that and sailors are “kinda gay”, then later going on and on about how he wants to be a pirate and how he should’ve done that instead of being a scientist.) LIKE OKAY, OBVIOUSLY THIS WAS JUST ROSS MAKING A HOMOPHOBIC JOKE AND PROBABLY DIDN’T THINK ABOUT THE IMPLICATIONS OF THIS AT ALL. obviously that is the case, but as most freemanverse content does we are casually Throwing That Out The Window and cherry-picking from canon because Freeman’s Mind is full of gross content and we are simply here to take whatever we want to and RUN AWAY AS FAR AWAY AS WE CAN WITH IT. What I’m saying is basically, yeah, there’s some canon backing for Freemind possibly being gay/bi/whatever and just in denial of it due to internalized homophobia and some toxic masculinity issues. In terms of toxic masculinity he constantly brags about how cool and tough he is, makes himself out to be an invincible genius, etc. He very much frames himself as the “Tough man who feels no emotions because ReAl MeN dOn’T cRy.”

That’s basically all we need from canon. Accidental subtext on Ross’s part implying internalized homophobia and Freemind’s constant attempts to frame himself as what a “real man” would typically be considered as resulting of toxic masculinity.

Now moving onto fanon: Many fanon narratives take Freemind’s character and try to give him a redemption or healing arc. Basically the guy learns that he’s allowed to show emotions and that this doesn’t make him pathetic or lesser than anyone else, and usually he does so with the help of those around him (typically the other Freemen, sometimes Eddie, hell sometimes h/lvrai characters like Tommy!) So here we have the narrative of “A man struggling with toxic masculinity and self worth issues learns to better himself, he lets others in and starts to be true to who he actually is strengthening both himself and the connections with the people he loves.” This is an arc I love and have incorporated into a LOT of my works involving Freemind! Hell I think it’s difficult not to take his character into that direction.

But, okay, what does this have to do with Freemind being queer? Obviously I’ve mentioned the internalized homophobia subtext and all that but up until now it seems like I’ve only really mentioned the more emotion-based aspects of Freemind’s arc. Well this is where we get into my own personal interpretation of Freemind’s story.

My version of Freemind is a gay trans man, he realized he was trans sometime in his teens but only came out and transitioned sometime during college. In my version of the story, I think Freemind grew up around a kind of rough crowd. He’d hang out with those sort of boys at school that were just the EMBODIMENT of toxic masculinity, and I think he kind of internalized a lot of what they told him? They told him things like “Boys don’t cry” and “Boys are tough” and “Boys can’t like girly things” and “Boys can’t like other boys, that’s weird.” etc etc etc. He hung out with a rough crowd and didn’t have the best support system at home, and a lot of this resulted in his more egotistical larger than life personality- He acted out a lot both because his peers told him to and because hey, at least it got him some form of attention. He was a smart kid, sure, but that was never really enough to impress anyone around him. He kinda developed this “I’m better than ALL OF YOU” attitude as a defense mechanism, and as he started coming into himself and actually accepting that he was trans he took those things that his peers told him “””real men””” do and don’t do and cranked it up tenfold, just to further prove that he was better than all of them and than he was even more of a “””real man””” than any of them could tell him. He took these toxic view points and internalized them, making them a key point of his personality just so he could prove himself and put himself above others. I don’t think he struggled too badly with internalized transphobia, at least in the “I can’t be trans cause that’d be bad” sense. I think he struggled with it more in the “I have to do all of this or I’m just lying to myself and doing this for attention” sense. Granted, he never held anyone else to this same standard, he’ll never admit it but to him things are always different when it’s him. Sure Freeman and Feetman can have their little boyfriends and do gender nonconforming things, but that’s different, they don’t have to prove themselves for anything, they’re not held on the same pedestal as he is, they’re not Gordon Freemind. It’s different whenever it’s him.

BUT, as he begins to grow and learn and not hold himself to such a high standard, Freemind begins to learn that all of these things aren’t true. He learns that showing emotion, being gender nonconforming, being attracted to men, etc. doesn’t make him any lesser than the others around him and there’s no “different standard” for him JUST BECAUSE it’s him. Hell there’s no different standard for him at all, there never has been, and the people who told him otherwise were just toxic assholes who he shouldn’t have to please in order to exist as himself. As he is, he’s good enough, he’s always been good enough, and allowing himself to be vulnerable and accepting who he is doesn’t make him lesser than those around him.

What I’m saying is this: Freemind’s narrative outlines the journey of a man learning vulnerability and learning to accept himself and allow others into his life. His character arc cannot be complete until he does these things, and in certain stories Freemind’s inability to be vulnerable and accept who he is might become a detriment to his goals and the goals of others around him. If he doesn’t learn to accept himself and open up to others he will fail to achieve his goals. Ultimately it is Freemind allowing himself to open up, accept himself, and be vulnerable that saves the day. Alone, this is already narratively interesting, but if you also mix in the ideas of him being queer in any fashion and learning to accept that and that there’s no “right way” to be himself, it adds a LOT of layers to the narrative. It becomes less a story about some dudebro learning that he’s allowed to feel emotion and more a story about a queer man learning to accept who he is, being proud of who he is, and how allowing himself to be vulnerable contributes to this acceptance. It becomes a narrative about how being open with yourself and others can lead to you discovering who you really are and accepting and loving yourself for it. Freemind’s identity as a queer man becomes DIRECTLY TIED into his character arc of learning vulnerability and allowing himself to make connections and I feel like that’s really important! Sure, not every narrative needs to be about a queer struggle and frankly I don’t like tackling it constantly myself, but Freemind’s story in particular becomes much more interesting under a queer lens especially considering how you could very easily tie the discovery and acceptance of his identity into his general character arc. It’s a story about a queer man learning to love himself and becoming a happier, better person for it.

TL;DR: As a queer transmasc nonbinary myself, I find the idea of Freemind’s narrative being queer incredibly interesting. It’s easy to tie in Freemind’s identity to his character arc of becoming more vulnerable and open about both who he truly is as a person and in an emotional sense, and I think it’s really interesting to make a character’s identity relevant to their arc somehow. Granted, this doesn’t always need to be made the case because queer struggle narratives can get tiring on some queer audiences, but in this specific case I think it’d be an interesting character study.

#long post #Anonymous

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redux-iterum · 3 years

Note

I'd like to hear Lynxx's list of favorite/unfavorite cats, even a brief one is fine.

It’s been ages since I’ve read most of the books, so these are mostly characters I’ve built up in my head or I think they’ve got a lot of potential going for them. They’re also sorted in no particular order.

The Magpie Hoard

Willowshine - I don’t know why I like her. I just like her. ...And I lowkey ship Jaywillow so shhhhh…… (“they’re hot together” is my only reasoning and I do not blame you for not liking this ship whatsoever)

Sunstrike - The obligatory background character that one’s unreasonably attached to. She’s got a cool name and a pretty design and that’s all that’s going for her.

Needletail - Jerkass Has A Point and Jerk With A Heart Of Gold. Man, I loved her arc. I do wish that Rowanstar, Crowfrost, and Tawnypelt actually listened to the reasonable arguments she made and calmly explained where she’s factually wrong instead of just escalating it to a shouting match and eventually causing the clan’s Deadliest Teen Rebellion.

Clear Sky/Skystar - Clear Sky is a great character concept, y’all are just uptight goody-goodies. In adult fiction, Villain Protagonists aren’t unheard of, and Morally Gray Protagonists are everywhere. While Warriors is a series for preteens, stories aimed at them can and should be able to explore topics like these on their level to provoke thought and discuss what makes a villain or fallen hero redeemable. Clear Sky had an enormous amount of potential as being a fallen hero who eventually redeems himself and pays penance for his actions, eventually leading to a great legacy. It’s just this is freaking Warrior Cats and the Erins are drunk at 1PM, so his character handling was Erin Hunter Standard Bad.

The Garbage Can (do you realize how far I had to stretch my boundaries of “characters I don’t like”?)

Onestar - Conflict arises in Warriors by characters being morons, assholes, or moronic assholes. You’re way more likely to be either of the last two if you’re a leader and that’s exemplified best in Onestar. With AVoS fresh in my mind, he’s exceedingly irrational in how he goes about defending his clan from outside threats. It’s been joked to hell and back how Tallstar picked him to maintain a friendly relationship with Thunderclan, then proceeds to treat Thunderclan with disdain. And then he dies in AVoS. I literally muttered, “Not the dickhead!”

Tigerheartstar - I don’t know why I don’t like this pathetic excuse for love interest material, but great job, Erin Hunter Team, for making a love interest so detestable, I still hate him six years later! Here’s to you staying there once I get around to rereading this monolith of a disaster.

#ask #anonymous #lynx #editor

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annerbhp · 4 years

Text

how you get the girl

(Harry/Ginny, meet-cute, muggle AU)

the ice-skating ring is full of fumbling people, but Ginny finds one person in extra need of help

Hot Dad is back again, Ginny texts Demelza.

Putting down her phone, she sells a round of tickets to a loud group of teenagers, passing them off to Stephanie to get them set up with skates. Their cheeks are all red with the cold evening air, the sun having just dipped behind the buildings. Mariah Carey is crooning about Christmas over the slightly staticky speakers. It’s all perfectly cheery and lovely, and even Ginny can’t help but smile at it, this season long having been a favorite of hers, no matter how old she gets.

Which probably explains how after working full days, she still lets herself get dragged into volunteering at the seasonal outdoor ice-skating rink set up in the old city center as a way to earn money for various local charities. She’s an easy mark, which her friend running the event never fails to capitalize on.

The obvious first-date skaters are the best in the evenings, the romanticism of the idea wearing off real quick the first time one of them knocks the other down and their asses get real familiar with the unforgiving ice. Ginny likes the look on their faces when she offers them one of the walkers little kids use sometimes.

Her phone buzzes with Demelza’s response.

Okay either bang him or stop texting me because this is pathetic and you know it.

Ginny sighs. I imagine his exceptionally beautiful wife would have a problem with that.

The wife you have no idea if exists or not? Seriously, I don’t have time for this. You’re cut off talking about this.

I need a new friend.

Ha! Good luck with that.

Ginny tosses her phone down in disgust. The worst part is that Demelza is right. This is beneath her dignity. But Hot Dad has been here with his son the last four nights straight, and selling tickets and collecting used equipment isn’t all that engrossing, especially considering Ginny is one of dozens of volunteers. Meaning she has a lot of time to stare and let her imagination get away with her. And her imagination’s favorite subject these days is Hot Dad. Once again here tormenting her as he wobbles around the rink with his son.

She can’t really tell how old he is, a knit beanie always pulled low over his head and a beard covering his face. He’s got glasses too. None of which makes it hard to see how attractive he is. (One time he forgot his scarf and she nearly had to take a break when he laughed at his son and the tendons in his neck stood out as he threw his head back and she thought how lick-able it looked.) He’s on the lanky side, which on skates occasionally makes him look like a newborn wobbly-legged foal, and even that is somehow charming.

Or Ginny is just really hard up and needs to get a life. Which is what Demelza loves to say. Also that Ginny is a workaholic. And sure, it’s been a hot minute since her last date. She just has a lot going on right now. Besides, this guy is definitely more than likely married.

So instead, she is going to happily, harmlessly ogle Hot Dad while he stumbles around the rink with his son, who has shown little to no improvement over the last week. In fact, if possible, they both seem to be getting worse.

Fifteen minutes later, Hot Dad nearly takes out a pair of teenaged girls, blocking the entire flow of skaters as he stops to thoroughly apologize while his son stands nearby and nearly laughs himself down onto the ice. And then actually goes down onto the ice.

Jesus.

Talk about the blind leading the blind. They’re going to cause a pile-up, she tells herself. It’s the only reason she grabs a pair of skates and heads over to help.

Really.

“Excuse me,” she says as she approaches.

He looks up and, shit, his eyes are like the most intense green she’s ever seen, and also, he’s definitely younger than she first thought, closer to her own age. But also young enough that he must have been Hot Young Teen Dad when his kid was born. But still just as hot as she imagined him to be.

Dammit.

“Not that I don’t admire your persistence,” she says, helping the kid to his feet, “but you two are rapidly becoming a hazard.”

Hot Dad straightens his glasses, looking sheepish. “We definitely are. But it’s an emergency, I’m afraid.”

“An emergency?” Ginny asks, trying to ignore the thrill of finally hearing his voice for the first time. And what a nice voice it is.

He grins. “Ted’s trying to impress a girl.”

“Harry!” the kid shrieks, looking mortified.

Ginny blinks, both cataloging Hot Dad’s name—Harry—and noticing the strange use of it by his son. Maybe he’s in that rebellious teenage phase where he calls his parents by their first names?

He’s still wearing gloves, dammit. Not that it matters. She doesn’t have time for Hot Maybe Married Dad right now.

Really.

“And you’re somehow supposed to help with that?” she shoots back before she can think better of it.

But rather than looking offended, Hot Dad—Harry—just grins back at her. “A hopeless case, I suppose.”

“Depends on how this is meant to impress a girl.”

“He’s going to ask her out for the first time,” Harry says, smiling at his son as Ted looks even more mortified.

“To go ice skating,” Ginny surmises. “Have you considered the movies, or frozen yogurt or, I dunno, anything not on ice?”

Ted shakes his head, looking earnest in the way only a young teen can. “It has to be ice skating.”

Ginny sighs. “I suppose I could give you some pointers. At least keep you from being a total disgrace.”

The kid gives her a dubious look. “You think you could?”

Oh, now it’s on. “You doubt me?” she asks, pushing back on her skates. Without another word, she does a quick tick around the circle, doing the second half backwards. With a quick spin, she comes to stop in front of them at the last possible moment in a showy shower of ice shavings.

Harry looks impressed, eyebrows lifted. “Were you a skater?”

“Hockey,” she says succinctly, used to people making assumptions. Then again, she’s hardly a delicate thing to be twirling around in tutus. Not that she couldn’t if she wanted to, thank you very much. But she’s more into smacking people with sticks than doing toe loops.

“I think this is your best hope, Ted,” Harry says. “The ice angels have smiled down on you.”

Ginny bites back the urge to clarify that she is in no way an angel and would be happy to prove it to him. Instead, she focuses on the kid, who she can’t look down on all that much considering he’s nearly at her height already.

“What do you say?”

Ted lets out a breath. “Please.”

She smiles. “Okay. But before we start, I need to know one thing. This girl you’re asking out. What are you going to do if she says no?”

His eyes widen, giving Harry a panicked look. “Oh, god. Is she going to say no?”

He pats his shoulder. “I think she’s more trying to make sure you aren’t going to use her powers for evil.”

“Pretty much,” Ginny says.

“I don’t understand,” Ted says, brow furrowed.

Ah, the innocence of youth.

“For example.” Harry turns towards Ginny. “I don’t think I got your name?”

“Ginny,” she says, trying to ignore the quiver she feels as his gaze falls intently on her.

He smiles, holding out his hand. She slips her gloved hand into his, shaking firmly. “Nice to meet you, Ginny. I’m Harry.”

“Hello, Harry,” she says, their hands still clasped between them.

He places his other hand on the back of hers, the gesture somehow endearing even as it’s terribly old-fashioned. “Would you go to dinner with me?”

She nearly blurts out a yes before remembering that they are playacting. And he’s probably married. And they’re standing in front of his son. “Sorry,” she says. “Dating customers is against the rules.”

Harry smiles at her—fuck, that is not okay. “Okay,” he says, letting go of her hand. “Sorry if I bothered you. I hope you have a great day.”

“You, too,” she says.

Harry turns back to his son. “There you go.”

“But that wasn’t a no,” Teddy points out.

“Yeah,” Harry says. “It was. If someone wants to go out with us, they’ll say yes. She doesn’t have to explain why or justify it. Plus, do you really want to go out with someone you had to convince?”

Okay, and now Ginny is not just lusting after him, but a little bit in love with the asshole too.

“No,” Ted says, frowning. “I guess not. But what would you do now?”

Harry puts a hand to his chest like he’s nursing a painful wound. “We slink back to our caves like men, feel sorry for ourselves for a little bit, and then pretend it never happened. And definitely don’t ask again.”

“But she’s at my school! I’ll see her every day. Won’t that be weird?”

Ginny expects a pep talk, don’t worry, of course she’ll say yes, but instead Harry slings an arm over Ted’s shoulders. “It might be weird for a while, I admit. But don’t be a pain in the ass and you’ll both get over it. Of course, she might also say yes. Is the potential weirdness and embarrassment worth the chance that she might say yes?”

A look of determination crosses his features. “Yeah,” he says, nodding. “It’s worth her maybe saying no, if it means she might also say yes.”

“Well then, I think you have your answer.”

And now Ginny is pretty much fully in love with him. Ugh, her life is the worst.

“Come on,” she says, gesturing for Ted to come closer. “Let’s try a few rounds.”

She spends the next fifteen minutes giving him a few key pointers, enough that he’s not a complete hazard, but he’s still a long way from dating form. For one, the kid appears to have two left feet. Which, once he warms up to her a bit (and informs her that he much prefers to go by Teddy), his clumsiness pales in comparison to his general politeness and wicked sense of humor. She’s not sure what he’d say if she said those were going to go a lot further for him than his ice-skating skills.

They eventually come back to a stop next to Harry where he waits against the wall off to one side. They’ve just made it when Teddy careens over and nearly face plants into the ice. Harry reaches out for him, only to almost lose his own footing.

What a pair, Ginny thinks, not even bothering to hold back her laughter.

“Your son seems to have inherited your clumsiness,” she says once they are all steadily on their feet again.

Harry laughs, beaming at Teddy, but the kid just lets out a dismissive sound. “He’s not my dad. As if.”

“You could only be so lucky,” Harry says, ruffling the kid’s hair. “Remus may be smarter than me, but I am far better at pretty much anything requiring coordination.”

“That remains to be seen,” Ginny says, Teddy letting out an appreciative laugh.

Harry lifts an eyebrow, like maybe she’s twinged his ego. “Ice is not my natural environment.”

“Really,” she drawls. “Then what is your natural environment?”

“Pretty much anything but ice. I’m not picky,” he says, and somehow the unspoken arrogance is attractive.

Ginny tilts her head to the side. “I think I’d need proof to be able to judge that adequately.”

“Would you,” he says, voice lowering.

Fuck, the ice should be melting in here.

They hold each other’s gazes a bit longer than is probably proper, Teddy looking between them.

Ginny gives herself a little shake, turning back to the kid. “So, Teddy. I have some bad news and some good news.”

“Okay,” he says, looking wary.

“The bad news is that winter is likely to end before you master ice skating. I mean, you can keep trying. You’ll get better just through practice. But it’s going to take a while.”

He sighs, apparently not horribly surprised to hear it. “And the good news?”

“Well, why do you want to take this girl ice skating?”

“Because she loves ice skating.”

“Is she good?”

He nods. “She’s really good.”

“There’s your good news. And because I like you, I’ll let you in on a little secret. Tell her you’d like to take her ice skating because you know she likes it so much. And then tell her that you aren’t very good, but you’re willing to try and you’d appreciate it if she’d help you. Basically, what I am saying is don’t try to hide that you aren’t great at this yet. Just focus on enjoying being there with her. Honest is so much better than cool.”

She expects him to fight that, but instead he looks thoughtful, eventually nodding. “Okay.” He turns to Harry. “Can we be done now? My butt is so cold I can’t feel it anymore.”

Harry ruffles his hair again. “Yeah. I’ll take you home.”

Teddy heads off towards the exit, and he has improved at least a little bit, Ginny notices as she follows slightly behind. Harry keeps pace with her, even as he wobbles his way along, never more than an arm’s length from the edge.

“That was some good advice,” he says.

“Well,” Ginny says, “what’s the point of suffering through all that teenage angst if not to try to save the younger generation from repeating your mistakes?”

Harry laughs. “I hear that.”

They sit on the benches, pulling off their skates.

“I can take your skates here,” she says, stepping back behind the counter, ignoring the person already waiting to run this part of the booth.

He hands the skates up over the counter. His gloves are off now and she can see his perfectly naked fingers. Interesting.

“Thanks,” Teddy says.

“Good luck!” she calls out after him.

He waves, heading for the exit.

Harry lingers another moment, pulling his beanie off and revealing dark hair in complete disarray. “I’m realizing I’ve backed myself into a corner,” he says, leaning against the counter.

“How exactly?” she asks.

He drags a hand through his hair. “Because I can’t very well ask you out again without being a hypocrite.”

“Hmm,” she says, nodding solemnly at him. “That is a tricky spot you’ve put yourself in. I suppose sometimes it’s hard to live by our principles.”

He gives her a sad, lopsided smile. “You have no idea.” He pushes back from the counter. “It was nice meeting you, Ginny.”

“You, too, Harry,” she says.

He turns and walks away. Ginny eyes his ass, and, god, it really is a thing of beauty. He doesn’t even look back, and he’s going to do it. He’s really just going to leave her alone.

Amazing.

She counts three long beats before coming around to the other side of the counter and calling out after him. “Harry.”

He stops, turning back to look at her, waiting for her to catch up.

“For the record,” she says, “dinner never would have worked.”

“Sure,” he says, hands in his pockets.

“I already ate, and I’m stuck here until nine,” she says. “How about I buy you a drink instead?”

“You sure?” he says, voice slightly teasing. “Because I’d hate to have a date who had to be convinced.”

“Oh, believe me,” Ginny says. “You don’t need to do any convincing.”

He looks delighted, a smile lighting up his face, and Ginny is still having a hard time believing he’s real. “I’ll swing back around at nine them.”

She nods. “Looking forward to seeing you in your natural environment,” she drawls, giving him a wink.

He almost immediately nearly bumps into a trash can.

She lifts an eyebrow at him, but he just shakes his head. “Still shaking off the ice-skating legs.”

“Of course,” she says.

“Harry!” Teddy shouts from the exit.

“Coming!” Harry yells back. He looks at her. “Nine.”

She nods. “Nine.”

Giving her one last lingering look, he turns, giving her a great view as he walks away. Once out on the sidewalk, she can see Harry wrap his arm around Teddy’s neck, giving him a playful noogie as the kid fights him off.

Ginny smiles, watching them disappear before heading back to her station.

Back behind the counter, she picks up her phone, pulling up her conversation with Demelza.

Hot dad is not a dad at all, is gloriously single, and I am seeing him at nine tonight.

Get it, girl.

#annerbfic #hinny #seriously what is this #meet cute #american AU i guess #because I couldn't be fussed to mess with Britishisms #still on my indulgent bullshit lads #not lucky #but something equally ridiculous

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mrvdocks · 4 years

Text

Redamancy

The act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full.

Steve Harrington. Residential popular boy until high school came and went. Now, he was actively clawing to stay relevant or at least, a ladies man.

Steve Harrington. Childhood crush since the sandbox incident in first grade. And perhaps you could throw unrequited love interest into the mix.

Maybe you should’ve read the signs that he wasn’t interested when you saw him and Robin at the mall. Or when he stopped hanging out with you after joining his “cool” gang. Or when he would try to not stare so much at you in algebra or across the room during lunch. You weren't sure about his feelings anymore. He always hid everything.

You didn’t mean to pine for him for so long. You knew you shouldn't have. But that chance encounter after Nancy broke up with him made you think you had some semblance of a chance. You didn’t want to be the rebound, but how your heart swelled when your eyes met his, your lips upturned in an easy smile. The party seemed to slow in front of you, bodies becoming blurry and your eyes only focusing on his figure coming to you.

If this was anything like the movies you’d seen and dreamed of, you hoped it would end with him confessing his mutual feelings for you and not him taking your face in his hands and kissing you sloppily. You could practically taste the spiked punch on his lips.

You pushed him off, staring at him in shock. He inches closer, his sweaty hands trying to bring you back to kiss you again but you refuse. “Steve?” You whisper to him.

He just stares at you, eyes flickering back and forth, you don't recognize the look. But something about it feels so innocent, so soft. It feels like he’s searching for something deep within you. You shake your head, tears brimming in your eyes. “I’m not Nancy.”

He reeks of punch and hairspray. “I know that.” He manages out.

His hands come back, one hand resting at the nape of your neck, his fingers entangled in your hair. The other caresses your cheek. The feeling made you feel so warm, so loved. You were delighted in his gentle yet sloppy touch, internally screaming for more of the connection.

But you weren’t sure about him anymore, about the things he wanted. It seemed to be a shitty year for him.

Certainly, someone who made it their mission to get over you with cliques and drama didn’t deserve you.

But you were anything if not human in your possibly unrequited feelings.

“Steve.” You say again. You break out of the trance to step back. The moment was accompanied by sounds of loud teens and music, you shook your head again and darted for the door.

Steve mumbles out your name but it gets lost in the sea of screams and synths. You’re out the door by the time he searches for you in the crowd.

He can’t stop thinking about you at work. He stares at the chocolate chip flavor ice cream and thinks of how you dropped yours in the sandbox in the first grade. How he gave you his without a second thought. Robin thinks there’s something wrong with him. And it wasn’t just the pathetic attempts at trying to chat up customers. She said he looked - what’s that word again? Forlorn.

This whole time he thought he wanted Nancy back, but he couldn’t get you out of his head. He missed your laugh, the snorts that would follow. The way you smelled followed him and the way you looked at him that night at the party, the tears in your eyes, haunted him.

He regretted so much of his later high school experience. He regretted being such an asshole. What good did it bring if you were locked out of his life?

He sees you pass by on your way to work at the diner in the mall. He tries to bury his feelings by asking out the random girls he serves but every time he’s turned down it comes back full force.

“Whatever happened to that girl you liked?” Dustin asks from behind the binoculars.

“Which one?” Steve asks. There must’ve been so many Dustin was referring to.

“That one that you always talk about, likes the same "nerd stuff" I do? Pretty? Cool?”

“That’s not my type.” Steve dodges the question, but nonetheless has a clear image of you in his head.

“Oh yeah? What is your type again? Not cool?” Dustin deadpans.

Steve huffs. “Alright, time’s up, give me the binoculars.”

Dustin passes them, eager to get on with his Russian mission. Steve scans the area, he’s about to give up on this whole mission when he lands on the sign of the diner you work at. He can’t help but focus on you at the register, deep in conversation with another co-worker and bursting into laughter. A captivated smirk came onto his face.

“You should probably go talk to her. She’s definitely a step up from the girls from the shop - actually from all those girls you've been trying to ask out.” Dustin says.

Steve looks up from the binoculars. “What’re you talking about?”

Dustin laughs. “You’re so obvious. Whatever happened to not letting girls know that you care?”

Steve shrugs. Stupid advice anyways.

Steve tries to not think of you when everything goes downhill in a span of a few hours. If he died without having said anything to you, even so much as an apology, he thinks the guilt would’ve killed him instead.

“Have you.....ever been in love?” Robin’s raspy voice asks him.

They’re just coming down from their highs and sprawled out on the floors of the bathroom. The near-death experience had scared him shitless enough to rethink a lot of things.

“Yup. Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year.”

“Bullshit. She’s such a priss.”

He hums. “Turns out, not really.”

“Are you still in love with Nancy?”

“No.” He says, a little too quick.

Robin’s interest is piqued. “Why not?”

“I think it’s because I found someone who’s a little bit better for me.” He fiddles with the frayed ends of his uniform.

“There’s this girl, the one I like. It’s somebody that I.....kind of ignored in high school. I didn’t mean to but I just know Tommy H would’ve made fun of me. Or I wouldn’t have been prom king. It’s all just a bunch of bullshit anyway but when I think about it, this girl knows me. Inside and out. She always has. I should’ve been hanging out with her the whole time.”

He breathes out, hands shaking as he confesses what he’s bottled up for so long.

“First of all, she’s hilarious. She would have me in stitches all the time,” he chuckles. “She’s such a nerd, she likes Star Wars and math and books and things I made fun of. And she’s so smart. Probably much smarter than me. What do you think?”

“Of?”

“The girl.”

“She sounds awesome.”

“Yeah,” he nods solemnly. “And what about the guy?”

“I think there is something seriously wrong with him. To have something real right in front of him and leave it for something so fake.”

“Yeah, I’m an idiot.” He whispers.

“Have you told her? How you feel?”

Steve shakes his head. “I feel like all the bad I’ve done to her...I just deserve the rejection at this point.”

“You never know until you try. Maybe she feels the same.”

“Yeah maybe.” He concludes.

He didn’t think he’d survive the Russians but he does. With one evil defeated, he thinks the worst is over. And it would’ve been until Billy showed up.

The kids are ready for him, shaky, but on guard. Steve can see Billy’s figure illuminated under the neon mall lights and his heart drops when he sees what he’s carrying.

You’re in Billy’s arms, unconscious and beat up but hopefully still alive. Still dressed in your diner uniform, Billy had snatched you up close to after hours and was planning on putting you to good use. He’d laid you down close by but still far from everyone’s reach.

Everyone’s eyes widened when they realized who he had. They hadn’t planned for this. Heather had gone long ago and if Billy’s plan was for you to become the next Heather, then you were in very dangerous territory.

“That can’t be-” Dustin asks but he’s interrupted by Steve.

“That’s it.” He grits. His knuckles are white and he feels the adrenaline rush through him. Nancy glances at him. The sheer determination is what she saw but the fear is what drove him. She signaled El.

The kids alter their plan to distract Billy so Steve has a shot at pulling you away from the danger. If the Mind Flayer gets anywhere near you, you’re as good as dead.

El gets the Mind Flayer going, letting it try its luck at her. She’s got Billy right where she needs him when she gives Steve the signal.

Steve’s never run so fast in his life. He only gets angrier at the eldritch terror as he comes closer to your body, bloody knicks marking your cherubic face, and a bleeding side wound. You clearly put up a fight.

“No, no, no, no.” He utters in shock, lifting your upper body and supporting your neck with his left arm. His hand grabs at your cheeks, shaking you to gain some response.

“Hey! Come on, wake up! Please.” He cries. When he gets no response he brings you up to his chest, hugging you as tight as he can.

The smell he remembers is there but coated in dirt and slime and blood. He’s horrified. He can’t close his eyes for fear that you’ll pass.

“Not you. Please not you. Come on, wake up.” He rocks you back and forth. “You can’t leave me too. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. About everything. I'll do anything please, wake up."

He feels you stir under him just then, wincing in pain and moving as slowly as your body would let you.

“Steve?” You mumble his name incoherently.

It’s a miracle he hears it among the commotion in the background. You feel the stinging pain in your side and your hand shoots up to touch it.

“Hey, hey, no. It’s okay. You’re okay.” He takes your hand in his and squeezes it reassuringly.

He’s thankful, so thankful that whatever being there was beyond the Mind Flayer let you come back to him.

“Am I going to die here?" You cry, unable to move without feeling white-hot pain throughout your body.

“No, okay? Just stay with me."

“Steve.” You groan. Your eyes feel so heavy, but he urges you to stay awake. It just feels impossible.

“No hey, we don’t have to talk right now. Okay? Stay with me, please. When this is all over I’ll take you on a hundred dates. You can yell at me, hit me, do whatever you want but stay with me.” He pleads.

A roar startles you both, and upon seeing the Mind Flayer charge to reap its pound of flesh, Steve accepts his fate. He shields you and buries your face in his neck, bracing himself.

The impact never comes. Instead, he hears screams and wills himself to open his eyes. Billy stands just inches away, tendrils impaling him as El lays on the floor in front of you both.

Steve’s shaking worse than before, he’s in shock. He almost thinks El’s dead but she’s a sobbing mess. Everything stops and the Mind Flayer falls dead.

He can hear Max’s cries for Billy. The silence that follows is deafening. Steve immediately looks down at you, making sure you’re still alive. When you wince in pain, he takes some comfort in it.

He kisses your forehead and utters profuse apologies and thanks. With whatever strength you can muster, you squeeze his hand in reassurance.

You sit in the booth, waiting for Steve to come back with the ice cream. You're humming along to the music coming from the loudspeaker in the shop absentmindedly. Today was part of many recoveries.

Steve smiles warmly when he returns, passing you it and watching as you take an eager bite. Chocolate chip, without fail.

“Final verdict?” He clapped his hands together in anticipation.

“It's gonna be a hard pass from me. Scoops did it better.” You giggle, breaking your faux serious face.

“Damn.” He smirked.

You both broke into a fit of laughter, his shoulders bouncing with glee.

Your hand came across the table to hold his, fingers interlocking. You finally realized what that look at the party meant. That gaze he held. He was in love. Completely and utterly at its mercy.

It’s been three months since the battle at Starcourt Mall. Your side is somewhat healed but the scar will always be there to remind you of the ordeal. Steve’s nightmares about losing you to the Mind Flayer are starting to fade. You managed to get an internship outside of Hawkins doing what you loved and Steve was going with Robin the next day to see if the video store was hiring.

Steve kept his promise. The first date you two had was out of the hospital. It was scary at first, acknowledging bottled up feelings and things from the past that neither of you wanted to own up to before. But when he finally confessed and made it up to you in a million ways, you caved. Since then, dates have become sweeter and funnier, they surpassed the good old days.

You’d like to think things have changed for the better now. Hell, you even managed to convince Steve to start looking at colleges. You wanted to get out of Hawkins as soon as you’d saved up enough and graduated. But for now, you were taking it one day at a time.

You think you’ve earned your soft epilogue, here with him. At least the peace you read about in books. The kind where you can finally breathe. The calm after the storm.

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagine #felt so nice to write for my chaotic boy again

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bichlordstories · 3 years

Text

9: old advice

You walked down the hallway of your middle school, eyes staring you down in fear and disgust.

Some jeers were sent your way, but nobody dared to go near you.

Unlike the brainwashing kid a group of kids bullied, you didn’t use words. The last time someone started something with you, you ended it faster.

“Oi, duck tape his mouth!”

You paused near the entrance of a classroom. It wasn’t yours, and you didn’t know why you stopped, but you did anyway.

“Can’t use your evil quirk if you can’t ask questions, can you, villain???” A voice behind the door taunted.

“Hold him down.” Another voice said.

This wasn’t your problem. Whatever they were going to do to this mysterious kid, it wasn’t your business.

“Huh? Who’s there?”

You stood inside the classroom, staring blankly into the widened eyes of some middle school boys. One of them had the target pinned to a desk, hold down his hand and holding a pen.

“Fuck, it’s that All Might wannabe!” One of the goons exclaimed and released the lavender haired teen.

“Oh? Does the evil All Might doppelgänger want to save this freak?” The leader of the group forced the head of the teen down by gripping his lavender hair.

The boy beneath him grunted in pain, nose bleeding and mouth covered by tape. His eyes were puffy from the bruises and from the tears in his eyes.

A truly pathetic sight to behold.

“Tokoro-kun, don’t provoke them, they’re crazy as hell.” The sensible one of the group grabbed the leader’s shoulder.

“We have our quirks, don’t we? We can just-“

Something yellow and sharp stabbed him in the arm, earning a yelp of surprise from the kid. Before he could scream some more, a hand shot out and gripped his cheeks, covering his mouth.

You got between his legs and forced his back onto the desk behind him. You gripped the pencil lodged into his shoulder and twisted it deeper and deeper.

By now, the whites of your eyes were a deep shade of red, leaving your (e/c) irises untouched by the crimson.

“Challenge me again, and it will be your eye.” You said before pulling the pencil out of the boy, who laid back on the table in shock.

You gave the boys enough space to leave, one of them grabbing their injured friend and left. You turned to the lavender haired kid only to find him sitting on the floor with his knees.

He barely struggled as you pulled him up and ripped the tape off of the boy. Since his nose was filled with blood, he breathed through his mouth, spitting out bloody mucus.

“You’re an idiot for staying behind.” You stated after recognizing the teen as Hitoshi, the brainwash kid.

He sat in the chair weakly, wiping his bloody nose and staring forward through bruised eye lids.

“...I didn’t ask for this...” he muttered under his breathe.

“Okay? And you not asking for it is going to stop it? You need to stop mopping around and adapt.”

“It’s not that simple-“

“It is. Finding the solution is easier when you not sitting on your ass and letting this happen. I see you make the same mistake every damn day. Today, those assholes beat you to a pulp because they got you alone. You don’t even try.” You scowled at the teen.

The boy glared at you with a trembling lip.

“Then how would you do it? You can defend yourself, I can’t.” He said as tears rolled down his face.

“You have a quirk. Use it.”

“I ca-“

“Work smart, not hard. You don’t use it to brute force your way through. That’s not how your quirk works. It involves using your head and your words.” You said before walking towards the the door.

Once exiting, you were met with an empty hallway. Everyone seemed to have went home, leaving just you and the lavender haired kid, but you knew that word would get around about what you did.

And you were right.

Nobody dared to say anything in front of you, opting to just whisper behind your back. The brainwash kid was hidden among the crowd, no longer taunted but instead ignored.

The two of you never really spoke to each other after the first time, only coming across each other in the hallways.

Sometimes you wonder if what you said was too harsh, but then again, he didn’t put any effort into defending himself.

Someone like him was bound to lose in the game of life.

This felt eerily familiar, walking down the hallway. Nobody acknowledged you, hanging out in their respective groups early in the morning. You didn’t see any of your classmates amongst the crowd much to your relief, but you are bound to see them in class.

After losing control of yourself in training exercise yesterday, you were stuck in Recovery girl’s room recovering from the overuse of your quirk. Obviously, this meant that you couldn’t return to class that day, seeing that you passed out and attacked your teacher.

Surprisingly, you didn’t get kicked out of school, which you were grateful for.

But you now had unwanted attention.

You knew that your high school will be just like middle school after yesterday, but you just had to deal with it.

You stopped in front of your classroom door and clenched the straps from your backpack.

A few kids passed by, talking to each other, so you didn’t really notice a pair of shoes walking towards you. When they stopped beside you, you moved away, believing it to be the teacher or one of your classmates.

It was neither.

Instead, it was the brainwashing kid, Shinsou Hitoshi.

He stood next to you, staring up at the letter B.

“So this is your class. You got into the hero course...” he huffed out a bit of air before continuing.

“I’m not surprised, since you are the best in your class, and word got around to everyone that you beat up a teacher yesterday.”

Your stomach dropped.

“...everyone?”

“Yeah, the General Ed class wouldn’t shut up about it. You became a celebrity over night here.” Shinsou said while staring at the same door you were.

Rumors.

That’s how it always started.

Technically, what you did happened, but people liked to exaggerate and blow it out of proportion.

But you attacked someone outside of training.

You had a serious problem.

“...I can’t fucking do this again...”

Shinsou turned his head to you.

“I can’t be the evil All Might wannabe... I’m tired of being compared to someone else, someone great, only to be called a villain when I don’t act like that person...” you bit your lip as your face darkened at the memories.

Shinsou continued to stare before reaching up to rub the back of his head.

“...adapt to it.”

He turned away from you and slowly blinked at the door.

“Don’t brute force your way through it. Work smart, not hard. Try to prove to yourself that your not a villain without punching someone.” He said before walking away, leaving you to stand in front of the door.

You gripped the door, taking a deep breathe, before slowly opening it. The voices inside the class continued, only dying down a bit when you passed the desks towards your own.

“(L/n)-kun!”

You froze at the sound of a cheerful voice before getting engulfed in a hug from behind.

“I was soooo worried! You were gone the rest of the day yesterday! Are you okay?” Pony asked before hugging your stiff arm.

“E-Eh?” You breathed out in confusion.

“Dude, we thought you completely lost it!” The cheeky brown haired kid, Tsuburaba, exclaimed.

Soon, you found yourself surrounded by your classmates.

“We already knew you were a beast in combat, but you had 2 teachers struggling to hold you down!” Honenuki said.

“Not just teachers, Juzo-kun, heroes.” Kurorio smirked to the toothy teen.

“One of them was All Might!”

You were getting compliments left and right, confusing you to no end. You just stood there frozen, unable to form words.

“I gotta say, I’m impressed.”

You turned your head to look at Monoma, who had a mischievous glint in his eye.

“You’ve proven that you’re one of the stronger people fit for combat, even more so yesterday.”

He walked over to you, brushing his blonde hair away with a flick of his wrist.

“Class 1A so far doesn’t have anything impressive on display, but you fought a hero with ease. All Might himself struggled to hold you down, and that’s saying something.”

He stopped in front of you, grinning ear to ear. It was a chilling smile, something that was anything but innocent.

“With you, class 1A will be no more...” he said in a giddy tone.

The teens around you grimaced at this, some even backing away.

“Jeez, can you chill the fuck out?” The guy with the headband, Awase, snapped at the blonde as he was put off by the creepy factor.

Luckily for everyone in the class, Kendo walked up from behind him and chopped him on the neck, making the sadistic blonde collapse. She plucked him off the ground by the scruff of his shirt and smiled to you apologetically.

“I’m so so sorry, (L/n)-san, he’s just relieved to see you back, that’s all.” She said.

“W-W-Why would you tell them t-that?” Monoma stuttered while looking up at her with a pale face.

“...uh.” You said.

“Ooooooohhhh, someone’s in loooooove~” Kuroiro teased, earning a few chuckles from Honenuki and Kosei.

“Eh? Who’s in love???” Tokage asked with interest.

“I’m not in love, d-damn it!!!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’s not in love guys.

Not yet.

Buuuuut anyways, I wanted to kinda have Mc interact with Shinsou, involving a bit of their past, the whole shebang.

As you can tell, those two aren’t exactly friends, but they aren’t enemies either.

They got some ✨history✨

#bnha fanfiction #bnha x y/n #bnha x gender neutral reader #bnha x reader #blood sport

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ateezmakemeweep · 4 years

Photo

richboy!seonghwa (part 18)

word count: 4k

angst, fluff

(part 17) (series masterlist)

the next month is one you can only describe as confusing, maybe even life-altering if that didn't sound too dramatic. but it kind of was since it changed the dynamic you had grown so used to at school.

because now 4th period consisted of you in the back seat and seonghwa three away from you, head trained straight forward at the board for the entirety of the class. you were also no longer late every day to 5th period, his body racing out the door before you even got a chance to pack your things.

you had tried to talk to him the week after the disastrous movie night but it hadn't be too successful and you can't say you blame him. since it had ended with a memorable kiss from yeosang you still feel giddy thinking about.

you walked in just before the bell to see seonghwa already in his new seat, arms crossed as he rests his hand on his chin. you furrowed your eyebrows together, eyes roaming the empty seats behind him before attempting to meet his gaze. but it stayed trained on the seat in front of him, demeanor stiff and obviously on edge.

so you took your usual seat in the back, stomach sunken and leg nervously bouncing the entire time. you shot up and gathered your stuff as soon as the bell rung but you had missed him, his black hair and blue jacket zipping out the door before you could even get to the seat.

so you made sure on tuesday to get there early, wait outside the classroom and smile softly at him when you saw him approach the doorway.

"hi," you said quietly, voice soft and barely above a whisper. because you were nervous, how couldn't you be after the last time you saw him?

"hey." his voice was tight and had a bit of an edge to it, so not his usual soft tone that was usually accompanied with a handsome smile.

"you moved your seat," you state obviously and he tongue peeks out to lick his lips as he looks to the side, eyes scanning the half-empty classroom.

"i did."

you want to frown at his clipped, short words but you know you don't have that right, have no standing to be feeling hurt and upset by this.

"was it because of...i'm sure you don't wanna hear this again but i really am-"

"it's not, it's fine," he says quickly, cutting you off and meeting your gaze. "i just needed to be closer to the board."

he sees in your face that you know he's lying and he obviously knows he's lying. but it's not something he wants to discuss with you, tell you that he can't sit there and stay mad and hurt when you're behind him with your teasing smile and airy giggle.

your eyes widen as you hold his gaze, only the sound of boisterous teens around you as you look at one another silently; your mouth opens to speak before he shakes his head.

"i'll see you in there, okay?" and like he's on a fire and desperate to get away from you, he quickly disappears into the room.

he had made it a point to avoid you after that conversation, never turning in your direction or staying long enough after the bell to see you. on the rare occasion your eyes ever did meet, his lips would quirk up into a polite, small smile before quickly moving to anywhere else in the room.

and you know you can't be upset, that you gave away that right the second you kissed his best friend and kept it a secret and then had him find out in the most humiliating way possible.

but you miss him, you've really missed your conversation and his smile and the way he would turn around and talk with you until the very last second that the teacher came in and broke it up.

you miss the way he used to trap you between the rows of seats to get in one more teasing comment or smile that had you running to the next classroom.

"is he still ignoring you?" yunho asks you at lunch, stealing an apple slice from mingi.

"yes," you huff, "it impresses me more and more everyday how someone can fly so fast out of a room."

"why won't he just give you a chance to explain it more?" yunho grumbles, "it's been a month now, that seems a little ridiculous."

the two boys couldn't believe it when you had called them the day after that night, demanding to meet for coffee and hear exactly how it all went down.

you broke down in the coffee shop that day as you rehashed the details, yunho wiping your tears and mingi offering you half his cookie that you so graciously accepted. the two boys had listened carefully and attentively, assuring you that what happened was for the best despite how you may be feeling now.

and then, perhaps too soon, yunho shot you a knowing smile when you mentioned the car ride home with yeosang. "passion prevails," he had whispered to the mingi, only met with a subtle punch to the arm and a grunted out a slew of incredibly impolite words that left yunho smirking.

"not to be a dick here, you know i've converted to team y/n by force..." mingi sighs out, "but i mean...you can't really blame the guy, can you?"

"ouch," yunho mutters, throwing the boy a look that screams offense.

"i know i have no right to be upset, mingi," you whine out, "i completely understand. it's just..."

"you feel bad. you still feel guilty," yunho offers.

and you suppose that could be it. feel guilty that shit happened the way it did and that you miss seonghwa for the kindness and warmth he gave you, for the friendship you had formed with him.

and you had had romantic feelings for him, had all the heart flutters and stomach butterflies; you probably still do deep down. but the feelings and pull towards yeosang had always seemed to be stronger, always seemed easier and more natural and more...obvious had a choice ever needed to be made.

"i just miss talking to him," you say quietly, "he always made me feel...safe. and cared for. like he was a friend i could go to for anything."

"double ouch," yunho winces as he looks at you, "you used the f word."

you let out a huff, meeting his gaze with an annoyed glare that makes mingi smirk.

"where's yeosang in all of this?" mingi grumbles, still not completely in love with the fact he's the other man. "are they talking?"

"no," you say, shaking your head. "and they see each other more with their friends and it's so awkward. i don't think they're both ever there at the same time."

a shit-eating grin covers yunho's face as he pops another apple slice in his mouth. "you say i think like you and yeosang aren't in the car together everyday."

"only when it rains," you grumble out. because he may or may not have driven you to and home from school on several occasions throughout this past month. "or when he soaks me on purpose."

the first time he just happened to see you on your bike, dripping with rain water as you stood under a large tree attempting to wait out the storm.

and you like to think most people would avoid the puddles that flood the streets when they see a person standing there pathetically.

but kang yeosang isn't most people.

because he made sure to drive as close to the curb as he could, tires swooshing against the street and water splashing up and soaking the rest of your body.

"what the fuck!" you scream over the pouring rain, angry eyes shooting towards the familiar range rover.

the window rolls down to show that signature smirk, the one you almost always wanna smack off his face. "you look like a wet rat."

"are you kidding me!" you yelled at him, ditching your bike to stomp over to his car and shake your soaking hair over him. "why would you do that! do you know how cold it is!"

"well, now i do. since you're shaking over me like a wet dog."

you throw him an exasperated look, balling your fists up at his face like you're about to punch him. but he only meets your disheveled appearance and anger with a full smile, opening his door and successfully pushing you back.

"get in."

he leaves no room for argument, making his way around you and to your bike before lifting it into the back of his car. you stand there stupidly, watching his every move with your eyes narrowed as rain pelts down on you both. he slams the trunk shut and rolls his eyes upon seeing you haven't made your way into the car.

"are you getting in or would you prefer walking? because either is fine with me."

"i hate you."

he rolls his eyes, mumbling something along the lines of "yeah right," before plopping down and slamming his door. you huff before stomping around to the other side, throwing him a dirty look when you join him before flicking on the heat.

"i turned it off because i was getting hot."

your mouth drops open as a scoff leaves your mouth, smacking his arm as you shake out your wet hair again.

"cut the shit!" yeosang says, a laugh threatening to bubble of his mouth.

"this is your fault!"

"you were already soaked."

the arguing continues all the way to your house, the debate whether or not you still would've been as saturated as you were if he hadn't been an-

"asshole! you're an asshole! that's what you are. you thrive off being an asshole. who sees someone in the street and thinks yes, that's what i wanna do! i wanna drive right up next to them and soak them."

"i don't know, probably a real asshole though," he quips, a big smile covering his face when he hears you let out a loud groan just as he pulls up to your house.

"thank god! you were more insufferable than usual today."

"that's a funny way of saying thank you."

you snap your head to him, eyes squinted and fists balled causing him to bite his lower lip; he can't have his smile grow any bigger.

"i am not even gonna respond to that."

you watch as he takes out his phone, unlocking it to click around apps and you take it as his rude way of dismissing you. you turn around and reach for the handle when he grabs your elbow.

"wait," he demands.

you turn around with a huff, raising your eyebrow at him as he shows you his screen; it's the weather forecast for the next week, rain clouds predicted again for tomorrow and friday.

"great," you mumble, "that's just swell. hope i don't see you again."

his tongue swipes along the top row of his teeth, shaking his head at you. "and here i was about to offer you a ride tomorrow morning."

you can't help the surprised look that crosses your face, the gesture so...unlike him? and out of the blue? (except it's really not, given the events of the past weekend).

"oh?"

"don't look so surprised," he growls lowly, "you shouldn't take your bike when it rains."

"oh and why's that," you laugh out sarcastically, "because it's more likely to rust?"

"because you're more likely to get sick."

the smile quickly falls from your face at his words, mouth dropped open the slightest bit causing that stupid, obnoxious, irritating, (but attractive) smirk to appear again.

"surprised?"

"i...well i mean..uh-it will probably get rusty but i didn't think you'd-i-"

"this is just sad."

"shut up!" you squeak in embarrassment, heat rising to your cheeks. "you're doing that hot and cold thing again."

he rolls his eyes with a shakes of the head, reaching over you to open your door. the closeness causes you to hold your breath, eyes trailing to his arm almost pressing right against your stomach.

"see you tomorrow. i'll wait a minute before i drive off."

and even though it's probably taken you 3-4 minutes every morning, he's never driven off. but it's not something you're gonna bring to his attention, his annoyed glare indicated he, too, knows just how much how disobey the order.

"soaks you on purpose," mingi says with a scoff, "like he's not trying to just see through your shirt like a perv."

"while that's certainly part of it," a new, familiar voice interjects, "i don't think i like you presuming things about me, pretty boy."

your neck cranes back to see yeosang leaning against the table behind you, eyes filtering down to as mingi sneers at him.

"that's convenient because i don't like you at a-"

"did you change your hair?" yunho happily chirps to yeosang, successfully cutting off mingi and causing the boy to smirk at him.

"no."

"oh no?" yunho nervously laughs out, elbowing mingi when he hears the boy try to speak again. "it looks different. still very nice. but different."

"right..." yeosang drags out, humor in his tone, "thanks, man."

his eyes go down to observe your figure again, hand pinching the bridge of your nose at the disaster who are your best friends.

"come with me for a sec?" yeosang mutters, not giving you time to answer before he meets at your usual spot between the bookshelves. you grumble words in passing at the two boys who watch you go, a sneer on mingi's face as yunho looks towards you with wide, innocent eyes.

yeosang's waiting with his shoulder against the end of the shelf, arms crossed and a watchful look in his eye. you make your way up to him slowly, head cocked to the side as you stare back at him.

"what?"

"nothing," he says lowly.

there's a few beats of silence between you before he speaks up again. "is he still not talking to you?"

your stomach plummets slightly, a slight pout on your face as you shake your head. "nope. avoids me like that plague. how 'bout you?"

"no," he grunts out, "wooyoung, san, and hongjoong are still taking shifts."

it's something that was truly hurting yeosang, not being able to have the whole group hang out together. but the one time he came through the door of san's house with the rest of them, seonghwa looked at him with a sneer and nearly punched him right in the face again.

and he gets it, he doesn't blame his friend at all. but he was hoping by now he'd be a little bit more willing to talk it all out again and come to a rational conclusion.

"i feel bad," you mumble quietly, "what if he never talks to you aga-"

"he will," yeosang says adamantly because he will not lose his friend over something like this. he knows it sucks and knows he fucked up but there's no way they'll perish over something this cliche. "he just needs time."

"it's taking him more time to get over this than the time he got to know me," you point out quietly and it causes a short humorless laugh to leave yeosang.

"you have a point," he says lowly, "but i think it's because he's trying to cope with...the both of us."

and they both can understand that, having to deal with the fact that your crush and your best friend did what they did and lied about it, then couldn't even bring themselves to admit that it was a mistake.

"i just hope everything works out."

"it will," he says softly and you so rarely get to see him like this that it makes you smile shyly, your head dropping to your chin.

he doesn't let you see the way he smiles at you, the faintest of blushes covering his cheeks when he sees you get shy and bashful around him. it excites him, makes his heart twist in ways that he's still trying to get accustomed to over these past few weeks.

but instead, because he's not that guy yet, he makes his way over to you and lifts your chin with his finger.

"see something interesting down there?" he quips sarcastically, lips threatening to quirk up.

"shut up," you whine softly, rolling your eyes as you rip your face from his hold. but he's quick to chuckle, taking your face in his hand again and bringing it closer to him.

"we'll meet you usual time?" he mumbles lowly, eyes falling to your lips that haven't been kissed since that time in his car. you hear his sharp inhale when you nod, your tongue slowly slipping out to lick your lips nervously; his eyes shoot directly to yours as he shakes his head slightly.

"always such a tease," he hums lowly, hand falling to your hip as his thumb softly pokes under your shirt to caress your skin. "i swear you do it on purpose."

"do what?" you mumble, words breathy and he'd be able to hear your smirk if he wasn't looking at it.

"like you don't know," his deep voice hums in your ear, pushing you so your back hits the shelf. a shaky exhale leaves you when you feel him press himself on you ever so slightly, breath fanning against your skin.

"i don't," you whine slightly, pushing your head up to look at him.

"oh no?" he hums, finger pressing against you harder causing you to bite your lip.

"no."

the hand on your waist slowly slides around to your back, his arm making its way around before spinning you quickly. you gasp when your front is now pinned to the books and shelves, his body pressed flush against you as the low, deep chuckle in your ear leaves has your legs trembling.

"what about now? do you know now?" his hand comes up to move your hair to one side, exposing the sensitive skin of your neck. you feel his mouth get lower and lower until his lips are only a few inches from grazing it, the hot air of every breath fanning over you and nearly causing a squeal to leave you.

"yeosang..."

"how do you like it?" he hums against your skin, his lips almost meeting your skin causing you to out a small, excited gasp.

"more," you whisper out softly, because you've been touch and kiss starved for weeks. and you had grown used to it until experiencing just how satisfying it could be.

"you want more, baby?" he mumbles against you, his hands grabbing onto your hips as he pushes himself into you ever so slightly.

you tip your head back at the sensation, trying to remember that you're in the damn school library and not in a private space where you can let the moan begging to make its way out.

"then start behaving for me," he whispers in your ear, "it'll work a lot better for you in the long run."

and then just like that, his body is off of you and you're left nearly paralyzed against the shelf. because what the fuck was that?

you try to calm yourself down, taking in a few ragged, strangled breaths before turning around to see him looking completely unbothered, a smirk on his face and his eyebrow raised.

"usual time," he says, winking at you playfully before breezing past you with a small laugh and disappearing from between the shelves.

"that fucking guy..." you mumble to yourself, placing a hand on your warm cheek and then taking a few minutes to fan your face in hopes it'll lessen the redness.

but it does no such thing, since mingi and yunho watch you come back to the table with the biggest smirks on their faces.

"you didn't..." mingi groans out with pain in his eyes while yunho's mouth is dropped into an o. "oh, my god! you are SO naug-"

"stop it!" you squeal at both of them before pointing at yunho. "especially you."

but they don't, they wouldn't dream of it, and proceed to laugh at your slightly disheveled state for the rest of the period.

your usual meeting time with yeosang is 3:15 at the end of the block, where he first doused you with dirty rain water and made the secret decision to give you rides as often as you'd allow. you hop into the car almost ten minutes late today, mingi and yunho's end-of-the-day harassment at your locker longer than usual.

"took you long enough," yeosang grumbles and you look at him with a roll of your eyes.

"shut up," you bite back, putting on your seatbelt before he takes off down the block.

"glad you see your face has returned to its normal color." your eyes widen guiltily at his comment, lips pressing together in a line that makes him chuckle.

"nothing to say? no snappy comment?"

again, you meet him with nothing.

"okay noted. if you ever act up again, your neck is sensitive and you like being pressed up against your-"

"shut up!" you squeal, hands flying to your face in fear that its gonna turn bright red again. he laughs out at your flustered-ness, poking at your side cheekily which you're quick to bat away. his arm falls on the middle console, peeking at his hand from the corner of your eye as he begins to ask you about mingi and yunho.

"what?" you squeak out, shaking your head and looking at him.

"what's their deal? seemed like yunho was into me or something."

a loud laugh erupts from you, deep within your chest that you have absolutely no control over. because that is absolutely laughable; if yunho is liking anyone, it's mingi, you tell him.

"well that's a miracle in itself," yeosang grumbles, "that grumpy fuck. still can't believe he tried to kill me

"you kind of deserved it," you mumble out, biting your lip as you remember how mean he first was to you.

but like you need any reminder in your own, he mumbles "putting stupid, poor girls in their place one step at a time," with a smirk, the loud gasp leaving your mouth causing him to let out a boyish chuckle.

your eyes move from his upturned smile back to his hand, veins protruding and palm up as he rests his other one on top of the wheel. and because you're too busy eyeing his limb, because that's all it is, it's a limb, a really hot, attention-grabbing limb followed by an opened, inviting hand, you fail to notice his gaze go to his backpack laid out on the floor in front of you before they raise to the road.

"hold the wheel for a second," he says, about to take his hands off and reach down when you look at him, confusion on your face.

"what?"

"hold it," he demands.

your brain says 'what, why?' but your heart and other parts are far too eager and so you listen, or at least you think you are when you take his hand in yours.

there's a few moments of complete silence, his eyebrows pulled together before his laugh rings through out the car.

"y/n?" he says, looking at your face before down at your intertwined hands.

"what?" you squeak out, "is my hand sweaty?"

"well, yes, but that's besides the point....why are you holding my hand?"

"you just told me too?" you say, the serious tone in your voice causing him to shake his head.

"are you high? i said hold the fucking wheel," his voice says, humor seeping through.

embarrassment floods through you immediately, your stupid, hand-kinked mind completely morphing your senses into hearing things. how is that even possible? how could you even possibly begin to explain that to him without being completely laughed at?

"i...i think you said hand."

"i most definitely did not say hand."

"i'm sorry," you rush out quickly, snatching it back and slamming in into your lap. your face flames when you hear more quiet chuckles leave him, his shoulders soon shaking rapidly with laughter as his eyes remain on the road.

"can you stop laughing!" you squeak into the silence "this is so horrifying!"

he turns to look at you with a crooked smile and amused eyes as he reaches his arm out and suddenly grabs your hand again.

"y/n, if you wanted to hold my hand, you could've just done it," he says teasingly, "you don't have to make up lies."

"i'm not lying! i really did hear that!" you defend with burning cheeks before attempting to snatch your hand out of his. "now give it back."

but instead, he tightens his grip on it and interlaces your fingers before shaking his head.

"i'm good," he says, biting his lip before settling your intertwined hands back on the console. you let out a tiny huff, quickly eyeing your hands before turning away to look out the window. you hope he doesn't see the absolutely idiotic smile making its way on your face until he quickly causes it to drop.

"holding the hand of a poor, stupid girl one step at a-"

you squeeze his hand as hard as yours could muster and his deep chuckle vibrates through the car. he squeezes yours back lightly before his slowly thumb starts to move against your skin, smiling to himself at the feeling of your hand in his.

(part 19)

#Seonghwa #yeosang #seonghwa fluff #yeosang fluff #seonghwa series #ateez series #ateez fluff #seonghwa angst #yeosang angst #ateez angst #seonghwa fic #ateez fic

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letyourcolors · 4 years

Text

ok so i'm currently at season 6 of one tree hill and like...

why are they acting like julian is an asshole when he literally did NOTHING wrong ????????? he just wanted to make a movie goddamnit!

also i love brooke's storyline with sam it's super cute and all but why does this show doesn't ackowledge the age of its own characters? i mean if they wanted to portray people in their late 20s / early 30s they should've just DONE THAT instead of telling me that a TWENTY TWO YEAR OLD has a parental relationship with a FIFTEEN YEAR OLD??????? sam literally just called her 'mom' this is PATHETIC

it was already ridiculous that nathan and haley got married in high school but this is just too much they keep acting like they're a bunch of old people ???????? for example gigi came back and she's still in college and they're all talking like it's been centuries since they've been in college SHE IS LITERALLY TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN THEM

hmm i also hate it when they have these super dark storylines and forget that this was supposed to be a teen soap lol really it just pisses me off they try to adress a lot of very serious issues just for shock value and i find it very disrespectful (never forgiving them for quentin fields). and not just that but i honestly think the show is way better when it has lighter stories, when they try to get serious and dramatic it gets SO LAME LOL

this is like the second time brooke has to fight a crazy man i'm just done

jamie lucas scott remains as the highlight of this show he didn't appear for two episodes and i almost fell asleep like i can't watch this without him anymore

and no news here when i say that leyton still sucks i hate everything about them and can sincerely not understand how could ANYONE fangirl over their boring moments

just so we can end this: i'm supposed to believe that BOTH mia AND sam are heterosexual??????? fuck off

that's it stay tuned for more !!!!!!

#anti leyton #oth spoilers #oth s6 #one tree hill #brooke davis #oth rant #my texts

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meetevieinthehallway · 5 years

Text

why would you keep something like this for me?

in which she’s been feeling uncomfortable and doesn’t tell harry.

this piece is kind of a mess.

this deals with subjects of harassment, sexual harassment, etc.

the rain is bothersome.

it hasn’t been this way.

it’s been sunny this entire week— a comfortable few days of only a gentle breeze and a hot glow casting over, pressing kisses to leaves and warming the ponds. spring is finally fucking developing— growing and sprouting and shifting and the soil and air can’t get enough of the radiating warmth coating everything in sight. the birds have been singing after their long time of being silenced or being absent— joyful and celebratory songs for this unfamiliar, newfound, utter peacefulness—

she thinks the birds have been drowned in the rain.

there’s no brightness, liveliness, there’s only coldness and dampness and she hopes the birds have drowned.

call it pessimism, or utter brutality— but as much as she wants the sunshine and birds chirping placidly she may actually choke out a helpless creature if it starts singing sweetly in her ear.

to say it gently,

she hasn’t had the best day.

to say the least, she’s infuriated— a mix of pure anger but also a pinch of sadness and a bit of disappointment. nothing could go right, and she’s muttering to herself as she storms to her parked car in a heap of red, tears stinging at her eyes because there’s too many emotions right now.

she cries on the way home.

she isn’t a cryer.

but she full out sobs, her cheeks paralleling her blurry windshield and it’s doubling the difficulty of seeing clearly and seeing the road and she misses three turns because she’s that much of a mess.

god, just let me get home.

the rain is pounding on the glass and trying to break through it—trying to soak her cheeks more than her tears already have—and she can’t see and she doesn’t know how or when she makes it home and she doesn’t know why she’s soaking wet.

you left your window open.

another cry rips through her soul.

she feels pathetic.

she feels as if she’s the dumbest person to ever exist— because now she’s miserable and cold and exhausted and she wants to crawl into a hole and never come out. maybe her boss is right— that she can’t do anything right—not even the job she studied brutally for six years—and she despises the look of disappointment on her employer’s face when he sighs and hands her report back to her and shakes his head and shoos her away with a wave of his hand.

she shifts up to meet her eyes in the rearview mirror, and she catches the glaze of letdown in her own irises.

her boss is a straight up asshole.

he’s the boss that every high school and college professor rants of, the unfair one that establishes their fucking superiority complex in the first minute of knowing them. but it’s not a roughness of sophistication— but the exact opposite, one of immaturity and pure ignorance; she doesn’t know how he got so high up in status when he doesn’t even do anything. she swears he is straight out of the devil wears prada, but miranda priestly is a prententious fashion designer and that is kind of to be expected?

she never expected her own boss to be such a prick.

she’s dreamed about her job since she was an early teen—one where she feels accepted and wanted and valid in the workplace—and the level of sorrow she feels that her dream has diminished before her eyes is heartbreaking.

this boss has ruined it for her.

a man who definitely believes women are less than men—evident by the snide, sexist comments and the obvious stares and the groping and sexual harassment of female colleagues who quit days later—because she is one of the now only two women working there and somehow the work gets piled on top of them but the men get to sit in the workroom and watch football games together during their “extended lunch break.”

while her boss joins.

it’s nothing against the male colleagues she works with— they are hard workers and they are intelligent but she works twice as much as them and harder and she still gets paid less.

another tear runs down her cheek.

her fingers are still wrapped around her steering wheel in a vice grip although she’s been pulled in the garage for god knows how long, and her hands are starting to ache and throb.

she wants harry.

harry who isn’t a sexist and who understands she is valid and equal and works hard and well at what she does and—

she wants harry.

her head turns slowly to the left and she sees his car sitting next to hers. her brain is slow and her breathing catches and speeds up as she’s flying herself out the door.

she’s sobbing again, flinging the door open and she doesn’t know the last time she has broken down so extremely— and she isn’t kicking off her shoes as she races through the house.

“lovie?”

she sobs.

she is literally sprinting towards the sound of his voice and she can hear music halt and she rounds a corner and slams into his chest.

“woah—”

she’s sobbing.

harry takes a moment to register how intensely upset she is, and his mouth guppies for a moment before he wraps his arms around her.

“love— are you... are you okay?”

she shakes her head and she’s hysterical and his eyebrows are furrowed over his widened eyes.

“what’s... what’s happened? hey— hey breathe.”

she whines and her hands are shaking and she moves to place them over her face and she feels pathetic.

his hands are on her shoulders as he hold her away from him, his neck bent down and forward as he tries to see her face.

“lovie.”

he says it quite sternly but instantly regrets it because she lets out harsher cries and shakes her head.

he doesn’t know what’s wrong and he doesn’t know how to help and he has never seen her this upset.

“are..— are you hurt? did someone do something?”

head shakes.

“just..” he closes his eyes and exhales. “a bad day?”

her hands fall from her eyes and she sniffles and her mascara is running down her cheeks and he is so alarmed that he pulls her close. her face is coated in tears and redness and the back of her hand comes up to her eye and presses against it as she cries. her arm shakily wraps around harry’s middle as he leans down to press kisses to her temple, gently, shushing her and murmuring just breathe, breathe.

she’s hiccuping and she can’t really breathe and her mind is warped and dizzy and wrapped in harryharryharry and she lets her mind be at ease for a moment.

maybe it’s her brain—she doesn’t know how she is this aware to think of this right now while she’s sobbing into her fiancé—but maybe her brain is letting her breathe in harry to take away some of that pain from inside her being.

she remembers reading that sometimes the brain sends someone to a peaceful place to cope with stress— like a state of shock— and she feels harry take her by the shoulders again and back away and lean down to meet her eyes.

“love, look at me, please?”

her eyes move gently and slowly to meet his and she doesn’t blink. she only sniffles and he pushes his sleeve over his palm. her eyes close when he reaches to swipe away her tears with his sweater, and she feels like a toddler but her heart is thrumming.

“wanna bath.”

it’s the first thing she says and she’s so dazed and out of it when she speaks like a young child— monotonous and sad and harry nods quickly.

“what?”

“a bath. want a bath.”

her finger wipes under her nose and she hiccups.

“okay—.. um, okay i—... let’s get you in the bath.”

—

“i wish i was a kid again.”

the bathroom is warm.

harry drew her bath— so hot that it steamed up the room and fogged up the mirrors but somehow the air is thin and pure enough to let her breathe easy.

her cheeks are still red and it’s breaking harry’s heart every second that the color doesn’t dissipate, because he still doesn’t understand what even happened, what she’s upset over.

he can’t believe he has gone from being so excited to being so terrified in the span of an hour.

all he knows is that he was so unbelievably elated— came home from the studio early and picked up her favorite cupcakes on the way home, because this is the night.

he can feel it.

there was a quirk to his smile and a beautiful tone to his simple humming and a glistening to his eyes—

and to the ring in his left pocket.

harry wasn’t nervous.

he had a couple glasses of wine to loosen him up before she got home, so along with his gentle humming was a soft sway to his body as he practically danced around the kitchen with her voice filling his head.

but now they’re here.

and the ring is forgotten about— for good reason.

harry’s hand gets drenched when he moves his hand downward behind her, cupping his palm to scoop some water and to drape it over her spine. she sighs when he does so, her arms loosening around her knees.

“hm?”

her eyes flutter open and she rests her cheek on her knees, staring at her boyfriend outside of the bathtub.

her heart is throbbing at how careful he’s being.

“wish i was a kid.”

she sniffles after she says it and she’s looking at him so intensely that it causes his eyes to shift to meet hers.

he cups more water and lets it run down her back.

“why?”

she blinks.

“less to worry about. carefree— y’know, h?”

he bites his lip and looks at where her hand is now placed on the side of the tub. his fingers reach to lay on hers, and she sniffles again.

“i wanna quit m’job.”

the water falls between his fingers and runs between the spaces to crash to the bubbles below.

his eyes go wide and he’s startled— because he genuinely doesn’t understand.

“love— you... you wanna quit your job?”

she nods with the saddest smile and swallows as tears resurface.

“no no.. don’t cry. just—” he sits up on his knees and leans over the water, “just explain it to me, sweet.”

she wipes at her cheek with her hand and she feels so dumb and pathetic because her skin is already wet with bath water.

“m’boss doesn’t... treat me right.” she looks up at him. “like—...” she hiccups, “he’s sexist, a-and— i know he’s sexist and a pig and he is so hard on me and i didn’t think it’d be this hard.” she’s shaking her head.

“what do you mean? did...” he’s looking away and racking his brain and he’s trying to comprehend—

his head snaps up.

“lovie.” he says it seriously and he places a hand on her knee as she cries. “don’t... don’t tell me he’s.. touched you, or summat. has he?”

she shakes her head and watches her reflection ripple as her tear hits the water.

“he hasn’t?”

“no, har.” she whispers. “but—... but he’s... grabbed? groped— i dunno the word but...” her bottom lip shakes and she shudders. “all the women that have quit or left did so.. for a reason a-and i’m scared because he... he’ll say things and stare and—”

she breaks down into tears. full fledged— once again.

he doesn’t know what to do.

his heart is racing: at the thought of women being touched inappropriately, of his love being harrassed or even just uncomfortable and that alone? there’s no excuse—

“you... lovie.”

she swallows.

she turns her face to meet his eyes and he’s guppying his mouth and his throat his dry. she feels embarrassed—and she doesn’t know why—none of this is her fault. but there’s a feeling of genuine guilt and nervousness and she can’t pinpoint why.

“how long has this been going on?”

she shrugs.

he swallows.

“since i started.”

her eyes are burning and his are starting to and all he does is nod because he feels so stupid.

he should’ve noticed when she would shrug when he asked how work was or how her day had been— has she really felt uncomfortable for this long of a time? has she really felt unsafe in her work environment for this long?

“since you started.”

he says it to himself mostly, trying to ground his mind into some sort of realization.

“why... why would you keep something like this from me?”

she lets out a soft cry and the water sloshes as her chin falls to her chest. her skin is shaking and she’s tired of feeling so drained and she leans into his shirt when he pulls her to the edge of the tub.

“harry i don’t know.” she’s sobbing now. “i don’t know anything anymore.”

harry’s shirt has soaked through but he’s leaning over her and pressing kisses to her hair because he doesn’t know what to do.

“thought i could be strong a-and—...” she swallows. “ignore it? i—”

“y-you can’t ignore something like this.” he pulls back and turns her so she’s looking at him in the eyes. “this is serious, love, i-i wish you hadn’t let it blow over.” he whispers.

he knows it’s from fear.

he knows that she is only justifying it because her own head is terrified— coupled on how society is nowadays. luckily it’s bettering—all the awareness and movements and empowerments—but the media and the world still think women can be pushed around and objectified.

he feels nauseous.

“well, you’re gonna leave, okay?”

he’s rubbing her cheek now.

“and i’m gonna do anything and everything to make sure this guy gets ruined for what he’s done.”

—

“let me care for you.”

he whispers it.

she’s tracing her fingertip along his collarbone as he whispers it and disrupts the sound of silence in their moonlit room.

he can’t sleep.

every time he closes his eyes his brain won’t fog and transform into colors and waves and images— he’s just staring at a black, blank canvas and helplessly trying to rest. he just isn’t comfortable— even with her body wrapped up in his hold and her calves tangled amongst his legs and the knowledge in his mind that she is safe.

they had shared tears on the side of the bathtub and he had held her over the edge and caressed at her skin and he had lifted her out and to their bed.

she looks up towards his face, slowly, sleepily.

her finger is still running down his clavicle and his chest.

she looks down towards his stomach from where her cheek is pressed against her pillow, nibbling on her lip.

she feels bad for gently coercing him to stay awake with her own lack of sleep— but it makes her heart swell multiple sizes at his care and his love for her.

“what?”

he smiles small.

“i am a man.” he whispers it and she furrows her eyebrows. “and you are a woman.”

“glad your observational skills are this good, h.”

he chuckles and shakes his head. his eyes are glimmering and they flick around her face.

“i am a man and you are a woman.” his hand reaches to catch hers at his chest. he holds it carefully, bringing her fingers to his lips and she smiles small. “i understand that we are equals. you can get another job after this one, or you can just... let me care for you.”

she blinks. “what?”

“i can take care of us, if you want.”

she bites her lip. “i don’t wanna take your money, hazza—”

“hey.” harry whispers it and he leans his head forward so his forehead is touching hers. “what is mine is what’s yours.”

her eyes look at him.

“yeah?” he mumbles, awaiting any response.

he does it gently— the way that he leans forward lazily and pushes his lips against hers. she moans softly the minute he delves into her— drinking her in and caressing her lips and she doesn’t know the last time she’s felt so at peace—

felt so loved.

she pulls away and her head is dizzy when he follows her lips, addicted to her kiss.

“really?”

his eyes flutter open.

he nods slowly, his hand coming up to brush a hair away from her forehead.

“i have a ring in my jean pocket to prove it.”

her eyes widen.

#fluff #harry #harry blurb #harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #one shot #angst #harry styles angst #harry styles blurbs #harry styles writing #writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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eddiesasspbrak · 4 years

Text

“About what you said back there...”

Prompt inspired by one line of dialogue. Warning for homophobic language and bullying.

Also on AO3

Eddie is targeted by bullies and Richie steps in to save him.

3k+ words. Oneshot

Once again, Eddie Kaspbrak found himself cornered by a group of bullies who were determined to ruin his day. Not that his day was going great to begin with. He’d forgotten his homework on his desk in his room. For every single class. Endlessly he was lectured about not having his homework, class after class, hour after hour. He’d stayed up late the night before to get it all done too so he was exhausted. He’d dozed off in algebra only to have Bill throw at eraser at his head before the teacher saw.

He’d decided to spend his lunch napping in the only place he was likely not to be disturbed. There was a corner under the bleachers, not far from where the smokers hid, where it was shadowed from the sun. It was the perfect dark place when the weather was nice. That’s where Eddie went, hoping to get a bit of sleep before his afternoon classes. Of course, as soon as he settled into the corner against the cold chain-link fence, he was met with unwanted company.

“Well, look who it is.”

Eddie’s eyes shot open at the sound of the voice. He knew this voice. Luke, football player, stereotypical bully rich guy jock. Pathetic really. He acted like he’d stepped out of an actual teen movie from the 80s and it was almost embarrassing to watch. Small guys like Eddie were just the kind of person he enjoyed pushing around. His goons, Rob and Steve, are standing behind him, smiling like assholes.

“Afternoon fellas. What can I do for you?” Eddie hoped they just called him a loser and moved along. He really didn’t have the energy for this right now.

“You’re in our spot.” Luke said, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to look menacing.

Ok, that was bullshit. Eddie and his friends napped there all the time and never once saw them around. They didn’t smoke either so it’s not like they were hanging out farther down and saw them. Eddie wondered why they’d chosen to claim this spot, which had been theirs for so long. He had to really weigh whether or not he wanted to argue with them and potentially get his ass kicked in the process. If he did get beat up, his mom would come get him and that would be great, but then she’d take him to the hospital so not so great. Not worth the trouble.

“Sorry. Wasn’t aware this was your spot.” He said flatly, standing up and grabbing his bag off the ground. “Guess I’ll go fuck myself. Assholes.” He said under his breath. They were really not meant to hear that.

“What was that?” Luke asked, taking a step closer.

“Nothing.” Eddie said quickly, trying to walk past them.

Before he made it, Rob and Steve stepped in his path. Eddie stopped in his tracks before crashing into them and sighed. He really didn’t need this. Why couldn’t he just bite his tongue and walk away? He didn’t tell any of his friends where he was going either. One of the dumbest choices he’d made that day.

“Sounded like he called us a mean name.” Steve said, backing Eddie back against the fence.

“That’s what I heard.” Rob agreed.

“Look, I just wanted a place to nap. I’ll leave, you can have the spot and I won’t come back.” Eddie said, putting his hands up.

Rob pulled his backpack from his fingers and threw it into the dirt a few feet away. Steve’s hand came down heavy on his shoulder, making him jump and also cringe because his hands were probably filthy. Luke came to stand between them, in front of Eddie.

“I think you owe us an apology.” Luke said.

“I’m sorry.” Eddie really hated them, but he also didn’t want to get hurt.

Luke twisted his fist in the front of Eddie’s shirt and lifted him up with it, the cold metal of the fence scraping against his exposed lower back. Eddie prayed to whoever was listening that they’d just threaten him, scare him, and then leave him alone. He kept his mouth shut, hoping he wouldn’t antagonize them any further.

“I didn’t hear you.” Luke said, close to this face.

“I-I’m sorry.” Eddie gripped Luke’s wrist tightly as he dangled there. God, why did he have to be so little?

“I don’t think I believe you.”

Eddie knew that he wasn’t going to get out of this anytime soon. Why did he even get out of bed this morning? He could have played sick and his mom would have immediately called the school and let him stay home to rest. He wondered what they were going to do to him, going to make him do. In the past they’d taped him to a wall, his friends finding him later and carefully ripping all the tape off to get him down. They’d made him eat a sandwich they first rubbed in the dirt. It was disgusting and gritty and he for sure puked afterward with Bill rubbing his back. He’d been socked in the stomach more times then he could count, given wedgies that literally ripped his underwear and locked in lockers at least once a week.

He was ready to accept his fate when he heard what, at the moment, was the equivalent of an angel’s choir. His name, loud and clear and enough to take the attention off of Eddie for a second.

“Eddie. You ok?” Richie asked as he approached.

“Hey, Rich. I’m not doing so great.” He said with a half smile.

“I can see why. You’ve got some trash stuck to the front of your shirt.”

Luke released Eddie, dropping him into the dirt. Eddie landed on his butt, groaning at the sharp pain that radiated up his spine. The attention of the three bullies was now on Richie.

“What the fuck did you say, Tozier?” Luke asked, angry.

“I think I said you’re human garbage. Though the human part may be a bit of a stretch.” Richie grinned, his hands in his pockets, relaxed like they were having a casual conversation.

“You think you’re funny?” Luke left Eddie on the ground and walked toward Richie with Steve at his side. Rob stayed behind with Eddie, ready to beat him at Luke’s signal.

Richie shrugged. “Yea. I do. So does Eddie.”

Eddie’s smile immediately fell when Rob looked down at him. Of course, he was smiling at Richie’s words. His self-appointed protector always made him laugh and smile, especially when he was coming to his defense and putting down assholes. The fact that he was in love with him was only part of it.

“I was just going to kick your boyfriend’s ass, but I guess I’ll have to kick yours too.” Luke said, grabbing one side of Richie’s open button up shirt.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Eddie chimed in, on reflex.

“You’re not laying a hand on him.” Richie said at the same time.

“Yea, how are you going to stop me?”

“I’d fight until I’m bloody and dying on the street before I’d let you hurt him.” Richie said defiantly, leaning in close to Luke’s face. “You’re the human equivalent of dog shit. Pathetic. You think you’re some big shot football star who’s going places. You’re going to live in this town the rest of your life, a future gas station attendant waiting to happen.”

“I’m going to pound your ass into the ground, Tozier.”

Richie’s face split into a crooked grin. “Kinky.” He said just before Luke’s fist collided with the side of his face.

Richie lurched to the side with the force, falling to the ground. Luke followed him down and landed another punch along his jaw. Eddie tried to stand and go to his friend, but Rob put a hand to his chest and shoved him back down against the fence. He could only watch in horror as Richie was punch for a third time, his hands on Luke’s shoulders trying to push him off.

As if answering Eddie’s prayers, the cheerleading coach, who’d been walking nearby, heard him yell out and saw what was unfolding under the bleachers. She called out to them, told them to stop as she made her way to opening a few feet away. Steve grabbed Luke by the back of his shirt and pulled him up.

“We gotta go, man.” He said. Cliché as ever.

Luke stood and looked down at Richie. “Fucking fag.” He said before motioning for his friends to follow him as they rushed off.

Richie flipped them off, remaining on the ground. Eddie scrambled on his hands and knees over to Richie, not caring that he was getting dirty in the process. His glasses had fallen off, his left eye already swelling, a cut along his cheekbone. His nose was bleeding though didn’t seem to be broken and his lip was split. Eddie didn’t think three of four hits could do so much damage. He grabbed Richie’s glasses, glad to find they hadn’t been broken, and handed them to him.

“Shit, Richie. Are you alright?” Eddie asked, instinctively reaching to touch his face but stopping himself.

“I feel like my head is about to split open but otherwise ok.” Richie laughed before wincing, the act of smiling pulling at his split lip.

The cheerleading coach had gone after the three bullies and Eddie hoped that she saw their faces. Eddie stood, offering a hand to Richie to help him to his feet. His face was a bloody mess and he needed to put ice on his eye to help with the swelling. Eddie looked like he was close to crying and Richie didn’t want him to get to that point.

“I’m ok, Eds. Chicks like scars, right?” He asked with a small smile, careful of his lip this time.

“I think they’re more impressed when you actually fight back.” Eddie said, sniffling.

Richie’s smile widened as he reached out and ruffled Eddie’s hair. “I could probably use some of your expert care, Dr. K. Want to fix me up?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, shoving his hand away and grabbing his backpack, which was now filthy. “Anyone at your house right now?”

“No. Why? Are you planning to skip?”

“Might as well. I don’t feel like being here anyway.”

“Picking fights with bullies, skipping class, what’s happened to my innocent little spaghetti?”

“Shut the fuck up. Do you want me to fix you up or not?”

Richie wiped the blood dripping from his nose with the back of his hand and followed after Eddie. His house wasn’t far by bike and they were there in less than ten minutes, Richie unlocking the door for them. He called out into the empty house, just to be sure that both of his parents were out. He got no response, so they ventured in.

“Where is your first aid kit?” Eddie asked, going straight to the kitchen.

“Uh…bathroom maybe?” Richie guessed.

He headed to the bathroom while Eddie rifled through the freezer. Richie was sure he’d seen a first aid kit somewhere before, he just wasn’t sure where his mom kept it. Looking under the sink, he found a small white box with a red cross on it near the very back.

“How do you not have an icepack in here?” Eddie called from the kitchen.

“I don’t think we’ve ever really used one.” Richie said, entering the room behind him with the first aid kit.

“This will have to do.” Eddie said, grabbing a small bag of frozen vegetable and turning to face Richie. His eyes fell to the small box in Richie’s hand. “You’re kidding right? That’s your first aid kit? It’s tiny. There’s no way it’s going to have everything we need.”

“I mean, don’t we just need some bandages?”

Eddie rolled his eyes and scoffed. “You don’t know anything.” He grabbed a dish towel from a drawer and wet the corner of it in the sink before instructing Richie to sit at the kitchen table.

Eddie pulled a chair up in front of Richie and sat, opening the small box and sighing at the contents. Inside was a box of bandages, a roll of gauze, and thankfully some antiseptic spray. Richie took his glasses off and set them on the table, pressing the bag of frozen veggies to this left eye. Eddie set to work using the wet towel to clean the dirt and drying blood from his face. Richie could barely see him, but he could still make out the way his tongue poked out of his mouth while he focused.

When he was satisfied that everything was clean enough, Eddie grabbed the antiseptic spray and sprayed it onto a clean corner of the towel, not wanting to spray it that close to Richie’s eye. He dabbed the cut on his cheek with the towel and Richie hissed at the sting.

“Don’t be such a baby.” Eddie said softly.

“Your bedside manner is terrible, Dr. K.” Richie responded with a small smile.

“Shut up.” Eddie said as he very lightly dabbed Richie’s lip where it was split. He couldn’t do much for it, but he could disinfect it. He tried not to focus too much on the fact that he was touching Richie’s lips. They’d never had any problem being close to one another, Richie had for sure kissed his cheeks before. It was no wonder everyone thought they were dating. Eddie denied it whenever it was brought up because it wasn’t true, but that didn’t mean he didn’t wish it were. Richie didn’t even bother denying it anymore.

“Alright, it’s not perfect. It would have been better if you’d had some butterfly closures, but this Flintstones bandage will have to do instead.” Eddie said, sticking the bandage to his cheek.

“Feels better already.” Richie slumped back against his chair, still holding the veggie bag to his eye.

Eddie began cleaning up, standing to throw the garbage away. Richie watched the blurry blob of color that was Eddie as he moved around the room.

“They didn’t hurt you, right?” Richie asked.

“No. They didn’t get the chance before you showed up.” Eddie said, keeping his back to Richie as he washed his hands at the sink.

“Good.”

“You shouldn’t have intervened. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt if you’d stayed out of it.”

“Better me than you.”

Eddie’s cheeks warmed at that and he was suddenly glad that Richie still had his glasses off. Of course he was glad that Richie had shown up when he did, but he couldn’t help but feel responsible for his injuries. He only said what he did in his quest to keep Eddie safe. He loved him for it, but he wanted to keep him safe too.

“Hey…about what you said back there…” Eddie said, finally turning back to look at him.

“Which part?” Richie grinned. “I say so much it’s hard for me to keep track. They don’t call me Trashmouth for nothing.”

“When you said…you would fight until you were dying in the street to protect me. Did you mean that?”

Richie’s smile grew soft, trembled a bit at the corners of his mouth like he was struggling to hold it in place. “Yea. I meant it.”

“Why? Why do you always put my safety above your own?”

“I’d die if anything happened to you, so it’s better to die making sure nothing does.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say to that. He’d never felt so loved as he did in that moment and he wanted nothing more than to let him know how he felt. Emotion welled up in his chest, up his throat and to his lips before he could even think about it.

“Don’t be stupid. I’d die if anything happened to you too.” He said, tears in his eyes. “I love you, Richie.”

Richie’s smile returned. “I know, Eds. I love you too.” He set the bag of veggies aside and slid his glasses onto his face. As soon as he could see, he was met with the sight of Eddie, covering his mouth with one hand, tears spilling down his cheeks, his other hand tangled in the bottom of his shirt.

He opened his arms, signaling without words for the other boy to come to him. Eddie crossed the room quickly, collapsing against Richie and wrapping his arms around his shoulders in a hug. Richie’s arms came down around his middle as he pulled him down onto his lap.

“How about, next time we fight together and neither of us has to die?” Richie suggested.

Eddie nodded against his shoulder. “We need a better first aid kit though.” He sniffled.

Richie breathed out a laugh. “Sure thing, Dr. K.”

Eddie leaned back and cupped Richie’s face with one hand, his thumb bumping the Flintstones bandage. He was so stupidly perfect, even with his face all banged up and bruised. Pushing his glasses up, Eddie planted a kiss to the side of his eye where the bruise was starting to form.

“I told you, scars are hot.” Richie grinned.

“It’s a bruise. Not a scar. Dumbass.”

“Just as effective.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Richie’s mouth snapped shut, the dopey grin gone. “Yea. Yes. Absolutely.”

“What about your lip?” Eddie asked, nudging the corner of Richie’s mouth with his thumb near where it was split.

“It’s fine. Kisses are supposed to make injuries better, right?”

Eddie smile and rolled his eyes, leaning down to connect their mouths. The kiss was innocent, soft, just testing the waters. Eddie let his hands rest against Richie’s chest, the other’s hands holding tight to his hips, keeping him on his lap. Not that Eddie was planning to go anywhere any time soon. Feeling more comfortable now, they decided to experiment, their lips moving together. Richie winced, making Eddie pull away.

“Did that hurt?” Eddie asked, eyeing his lip.

“Worth it.” Richie said with a grin, pulling Eddie back in for a hug.

#Reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #It #it (2017)#it (2019)#Ro writes

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birbwithlove · 4 years

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How the hell do you have confidence in yourself. I have never learned how to do that. In my whole life. Never had it. Shake during interviews lol. Can't stop it. I'm pathetic. I hate fearing everything and wish I was someone else.

Anon, my friend, do I have some stories for you. Here is my pre-teen self confidence issues and how I said fuck all that mess.

Back in like... freshman or sophomore year of high school (so I was around 14-15 y/o) I couldn’t look at anyone in the eye. If I walked in the streets I would keep my head down and walk around people, and that would make my walk to school like 20x longer and more painful. I would apologize to people bumping into me, I would apologize for getting in the way, etc, etc. I live in nyc so this happened quite frequently + there’s always someone on the street you’re walking, esp during rush hour.

Then one day I was in the middle of my walk and some asshole bumped into me hard enough for my shoulder to bruise, and just before I could apologize, he called me a bitch for getting in his way. I was pissed for the whole week. I hadn’t been this angry in a hot minute. After that, I was like ’why the fuck am I moving out of the way, apologizing to people, when they 1) are too busy with their own lives 2) don’t care 3) caused it?’

Then this led to the whole self-realization of what made me so “meek/nervous” all the time. I didn’t like people looking at me. I didn’t want people judging me by my appearance, by how I walked, by how my arms swing, etc etc. I didn’t want to be looked at. I didn’t want to be judged by people who only get one impression of me. That was my whole issue, at the very core of it, summarized into one sentence.

Now, this realization happened late fall, meaning winter came to bite everyone’s ass. In the winter, I always use a scarf, and I realized well, if I really don’t want to be looked at, then lemme just cover half of my face with my scarf. My nose won’t get cold, and people won’t have to look at me. Fantastic.

After that, I started looking straight ahead. I knew the potholes and cracks of the streets and sidewalks pretty well so I kept my head up and high, looked straight past the person, and at first I acted as if I was in an impatient rush. People moved out of my way and I didn’t have to bump into anyone. I don’t know if the scarf made me more intimidating to them or if it was just the fact that I started standing straight, but it worked. And after winter, I had trained myself to not look down anymore. I still didn’t want people looking at me, but it was easier now that I was used to not looking at anyone. Because as long as I don’t look at them, I won’t know if they’re looking at me or not. By acknowledging what made me uncomfortable, I created my own gradual step into my own self confidence, using my scarf.

And in doing so, I became a different person.

“Shake during interviews lol. Can't stop it.”

My very first interview was when I was 15 applying to a well known park in my city, and when I first applied, I had wrote “lol” at the end of my answers to, like... every other question. My interviewer had a fun time reading my answers to me, and at the time I was Super Embarrassed, but now when I go to my more “professional” interviews, I think back to that and I’m like “ok, there’s no way I can do worse than that (fun fact, I did in fact do worse than that, and I still got the job I had been applying for anyways). I’ll be fine. Who cares.” (Also, later on when I got to meet my coworkers, they told me this internship was highly competitive and they only accepted 20 people. I was like how the fuck did I get in then when i was so ‘unprofessional’???)

I haven’t met a single person who wasn’t nervous before or during interviews. I had a friend tell me that he had an interviewer who was more nervous than he was!! That interviewer said it was his “first time doing an interview, so please be gentle with me.” (it sounds weird in English but that’s the best translation I can do lol)

If you can’t stop shaking but you want to control it, I would suggest finding another way of releasing that pent up energy. For me, I used to go to the bathroom or a private area and just start jumping and shaking out my hands or punch the air. It was funny as fuck, but it worked. You might find that helpful? Or maybe you can calm yourself down by running your hands under cold water (not hot, hot is painful, cold is more soothing in a way).

I'm pathetic.

Nah. I’ll say this right now. You’re not pathetic. Don’t call yourself pathetic either, cuz you’re not, and you shouldn’t lie to yourself. If you can’t stop calling yourself pathetic/degrading or undermining your value, then come to me and I’ll be the one to tell you you are not pathetic. HMU whenever you’d like, my friend.

I hate fearing everything and wish I was someone else.

I feel you on this. Or, I should say, I felt you on this. For me, I stopped fearing everything when I realized I straight up don’t give a fuck. I can’t give a fuck. What’s the worst thing that’s gonna happen to me? Will they judge me in a negative light? Who cares, who the fuck do they think they are judging me? Are they any better? Can they do the shit I do? Nah. Do they know me? Nah!! So what I accidentally knocked over your fake plant, I put it back together with my bare hands and I presented my fire ass resume/cover letter. What’s more important?

Interviews, generally, are 30min-1hour. One hour before my interview, I get ready. If I’m feeling really nervous, I put up my “front” of someone well put together, who knows how to dress (thanks youtube fashion bloggers, specifically bestdressed), who has the confidence and friendliness of a golden retriever, and I keep that shit up for the entire interview. It’s 30min-1hour. I can do it. I become a whole different person who doesn’t fear shit and take no shit, either. Afterwards, the moment I’m out of the building or in the train station, I’ll drop the front and shake and wipe my sweaty clammy hands on my pants and call it a day.

You wish to become someone else? Why don’t you? What’s stopping you, in the end? You wanna dye your hair but you’re scared of what people will say? When I was minding my own business with my dog in the park, my scarf over my nose, a random woman came up to me just to say it wasn’t that cold out and I should take down my scarf. I said, “what, did you want to see my pretty face that badly?” She got tight and left. That’s her own fucking problem.

People, in the end, will probably judge no matter what you do. Why don’t you become the person you want to be? Like I said before, my biggest fear at the age of 15 was people judging and looking at me. Now I’m 20 and that’s like. My least concern lol. Granted, it took 5 years of me building up my confidence and shit, but now I’m here.

I will also say that I have a sister 11 years older than me, so she encouraged me to be the more chill, confident, independent, badass nonbinary gal I can be. And she always says: At an interview, the worst that can happen is that they say no. And if they do, then they don’t deserve me/you anyways!!

SOMETIMES YOU JUST GOTTA SAY FUCK IT!!!!

Anyways this is my advice, from one previously nervous wreck to another. Hope this helps. Like I said, come to my inbox whenever you want. I may be 20 years old but I got the advice of an 80 year old. love u friend.

#long post #n e ways i snuck on my phone for u anon i love u #personal #advice #interview help #dunno how else to tag lol #DEADASS BRO YOU JUST GOTTA SAY FUCK IT SOMETIMES #FUCK IT!!!!!

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redhoodieone · 5 years

Text

It’s Cold in Here Part 8

A/N: Heyyyy! Okay, so since I refuse to use the horrible homosexual offensive words, so I tried to use the less offensive ones, and I apologize firsthand if I offend anyone (I am not homophobic as I have a close gay cousin and a lesbian cousin as well) as it is not my intention to hurt, bully, or shame against anyone who is gay or bisexual because I adore and love everyone in the LGBTQ. And this part is the moment we’ve all been waiting for…the identity of our mysterious text messenger! The surprise evil villain might not surprise anyone, and I hope I didn’t disappoint anyone so if this part doesn’t get any positive notes, then I won’t continue this series. I mean, I tried my best with this, and the only way I’ll know if everyone wants to keep reading it is if they show me they’re interested in me to continue this series. So, the fate of this series is in your hands. Otherwise enjoy this part, and I apologize if I failed to impress you.

Warnings: Language and violence. Y/S/N = Your superhero name.

It’s not hard to lie. The only way to successfully lie is to believe it yourself. As expected, no one contacted me when the evening came. Dick had left after our strange cuddling-fest nap, and I still haven’t heard from Jason since last night, which is something I found myself appreciating more considering I wouldn’t even know what to say.

Because after everything that has happened in the past few days, I believe my mind is fractured from the constant thinking and obsessing.

As midnight approaches, I’m already dressed in my costume. The black fabric, leather, and armor pieces cover my entire body. A white bat is centered in my chest, and I put my two guns (with rubber bullets, of course since Bruce is anal about that) in my thigh holsters and strap a knife into my one of my boots. My bo staff is also secure on my back in an added part of my costume that Tim designed for me, after he trained me for several months and realized I had a special connection with it. I pull my hair back into a usual ponytail to keep my strands of hair from blocking my view. The last thing I need to do is slip on my domino mask, and I officially become y/s/n, and I’m on my way to Ace Chemicals.

Soaring through the skies and in the city becomes a quick blur to me, as I swing and jump with the help of my grapple gun. It’s almost twelve, and the only thing I can think about is who this person is.

Who the fuck are they?

What the fuck they want?

And what the fuck am I going to do afterwards?

My adrenaline is pumping through my veins, and I feel myself start to power up in a way I know my emotions will get the best of me. Bruce always taught us to keep our emotions in check during fights and missions, and with the way my mind is twisting and turning like wheels, I fear I’ll lose control.

I release my grapple hook and land flawlessly on the rooftop of Ace Chemicals. The air is filled with smoke from the factory, and I notice my surroundings are being compromised by the smoke, ocean fog, and darkness. I slowly walk around; with my hand constantly touching my thighs to easily grab my guns if I need them. It’s quiet; too quiet. I can only hear my heartbeat pounding hard and my uneasy breathing.

Someone landing behind me is what freezes my body.

“Hello Y/N.”

I whip around and aim my gun in front of me, after quickly pulling it out and switching the safety off.

They stand there as if I should have known all along, even though I didn’t even suspect someone like this.

Deathstroke.

His helmet frightens me with the way the copper side of his mask shines when a police blimp shines down on us; as the other side is dark, just like his soul. His costume is terrifying enough, as I can clearly see he has every weapon possible: guns, knives, and a sword?!

I’ve never fought Deathstroke before. I’ve only heard stories about him from the Batfamily, and the only vital information I have on him is he’s a serious asshole, who has tormented Dick a lot during his Teen Titans days.

“Speechless? I’m hurt,” Deathstroke finally speaks in the deepest voice I’ve never heard before. He chuckles at me and begins to circle me; as I follow his gaze every second. “You know, I expected better from you. You have two guns, and a stick. Did you think you were meeting the Riddler or something?”

I’m too shocked to speak. Deathstroke picks up on it and finally stops walking. I stop as well.

“You must know a little about me since I’m the big bad guy who has always tried to kill the first Robin. I have a reputation of trying to kill young kids, but you know what? I think I’m going to branch out because why only focus on kids when I can kill anyone and get away with it?” he remarks.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you so fucking obsessed with taking down Nightwing?” I snap, as my voice finally gains strength to speak. “What’s in it for you?”

“You have such a pretty voice for a pathetic little girl who insists she belongs to the Batfamily. Why? You’re asking me why I’m doing this and the only answer I can give you is: because I can and I will. You must be stupid to think that I don’t know anything about Dick Grayson. I know he was the first Robin, and I know he’s Nightwing; just like I know you’re Y/N Y/LN. I make it my mission to know everything about who I kill. But look at you Y/N! You’re trying very hard to be a big girl now! I’m actually surprised you came here all alone and with obviously no big plan to take me down. Do you understand that I can kill you within five seconds with just my two hands?”

I glare at him as my arms weaken from holding my gun up at him. “Why not just kill me then? Isn’t that what you plan on doing anyways? Don’t you want to kill me just to get to Dick?” I taunt him.

“Now why would I do that right now when I can just dangle your lifeless body in front of him and everyone else? That psychotic clown in Gotham actually has a decent point: why end you physically when I can end you mentally as well? Not only will it scar your family and friends, but it will scar Dick as well,” Deathstroke answers seriously. “It would be far better than just outing him as well.”

“But why are you so obsessed with his sexuality? Are you just a sick homophobic fuck or are you just doing this because you have no other options to bring him down?” I demand.

Deathstroke pulls a knife from his costume and walks over to me. He holds it tightly in his hand, as he looks down at me.

“You really didn’t pay any attention, did you? I fucking hate the Batfamily. Believe me, woman. I have tried countless times to kill the Batman. Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and that new little shithead are incapable of dying because of the Bat’s influence. But now that I know Nightwing has a deep, dark secret, why not kill him over it? And why not destroy him mentally as well? How do you destroy a man, Y/N? Do you just kill him and leave it at that? No. No, if you really want to make a man fall, you take everything away from him until he has nothing. Take away a man’s love, pride, and reputation and what does he have? Nothing, just himself. He only has himself to pity. But since you’re playing a big part in his life, you’re going to help me expose him,” Deathstroke threatens.

“And what if I say no?” I challenge. I hold up my gun again.

The knife is now up against my neck; with the tip drawing a little blood. My gun remains under his jaw. “Then I’ll just do it my way, and trust me sweetheart, you won’t like that very much,” Deathstroke vows.

Breathing hard in anger, I realize it’s fight time. I kick him in the chest with everything I have; making him stumble back. I run to a hidden brick wall, as I hear him shouting nearby.

“You honestly think you can fight me? That’s funny, because the last girl I fought barely had time to scream because I ripped out her throat. I can remember her insides bleeding all over my hands. It was a pretty sight. I bet your insides are pretty like your voice. But there’s only one way to find out, right?” Deathstroke shouts.

I jump out and began firing at him. Deathstroke dodges and ducks from every rubber bullet I shoot at him. And just when I think I can’t shoot anymore; he begins running at me. I quickly get my bo staff and get into position to fight. Deathstroke pulls his sword out to fight me.

“You’re hopeless. Why are you even fighting for him when he clearly doesn’t want you anymore? It’s all an act, Y/N. He’s trying so hard to be someone he’s not, and all because he wants daddy to keep loving him. The poor bastard’s real parents are dead, and all he has is Batman. So, I can actually imagine the fears Dick must have. Would anyone want a fruitcake, pansy-ass boy for a son?! I wouldn’t be surprised if Batman threw him out because after all those years of making Dick be exactly like him, it would be as if he failed him. And nobody wants a failed son, right?!” Deathstroke yells.

“Dick is not a failure! If anyone is, it’s you because you have yet to kill him!” I shout back. I use the end of the bo staff to hit his shoulder which makes him pause mid-fight, as I take the advantage to kick him in his stomach. “You’re weaker than him. You’re a coward. A real assassin would have gotten the job done on the first day. You’re a joke, Deathstroke. Bane broke the Bat’s back. The Joker got to torture and kill one Robin and paralyze Batgirl. Ra’s al Ghul raised and trained the little shithead to hunt and kill people. And what have you done? All you’ve done is stalk, attempt to torture and kill superhero teenagers. Not much of an accomplishment unless you consider yourself a fan of Jason Voorhees.”

I manage to dodge most of his hits with my bo staff; following every technique I was taught by Tim. Deathstroke doesn’t slow down, and after he tries to stab me or knock the bo staff from my hands, he succeeds in cutting through my bo staff. As the two pieces fall to the ground, I stumble backwards to get away from him. He puts the sword away and retrieves the knife he put away earlier. Deathstroke shoves me up against the brick wall, and the knife is against my throat once again.

“Now, are you ready to listen or do I need to show you how serious I am about this? You think you can protect him, Y/N, but you can’t protect him forever now that I’m around. And if I must, I’ll just kill you off first since I hate bitches who won’t cooperate. I can kill you right now and-”

A gunshot is heard, and it echoes all around use. A bullet grazes Deathstroke’s arm; nearly missing me. We both look up, and Red Hood jumps down nearby. He aims his gun at Deathstroke. “Let her go, Deathstroke or I’ll personally put a bullet between your eyes with a smile!” Red Hood promises loudly.

Deathstroke chuckles. He removes himself from me but looks back at me one more time. Red Hood moves to where I am, but it appears Deathstroke doesn’t want to fight, and holds up a smoke bomb as he reaches to the edge.

“When you want to take things more seriously Y/N, I’ll be in touch. Until then, text you later.”

And with that, Deathstroke vanished.

Red Hood turns around and looks down at me. “Deathstroke is your mysterious text messenger? Were you planning on tell me or the Batfamily at all?” he asks harshly.

“I was told not to tell anyone,” I say defensively. I walk to the edge and aim my grapple gun up, but Red Hood pulls my arm down.

“And since when do you listen to the bad guys, Y/N?!”

“Since I’ve been hanging around you, Jason!” I snap angrily. Pulling myself away, I close my eyes and try to calm down. Yelling isn’t helping, and I barely realize I have fucked up so much within an hour. “I don’t have time for your lectures, Jason. I have shit to do and I need to make things right before something bad happens.”

Red Hood breathes hard, which sounds a little strange coming from his helmet, but I can tell Jason regrets his outburst. “I’m sorry…for yelling at you. You were in a difficult position, and I’m just relieved you’re okay. Deathstroke is a fucking asshole, and he could have hurt you…or…” he trails off quietly.

“I know, but he obviously didn’t kill me because he needs me around,” I say.

“I could have lost you…if I were here, I wouldn’t have allowed all of this to happen,” Red Hood continues.

“Look, all I know is…I’m sorry for lying and keeping secrets but I need to go home now because I need to figure out what to do. I obviously can’t ask anyone else for help because it’ll only make things worse and Deathstroke will do something more evil than what he already has planned. I need to be prepared,” I say seriously.

“Then let’s go, because you’re not going to do this alone anymore. But we will stop him, and we’ll help Dick and figure something out. I promise.” Jason says, as he jumps off the building with me as we fly into the dark sky where we hope we can find a way to stop Deathstroke.

Once and for all.

The fate of the series is in your hands now. Otherwise, I hope I impressed you if not I’m sorry to disappoint. I always figured Deathstroke would be the one to torment and try to kill Dick Grayson anyways.

#dc comics #batfamily #batman #dick grayson #nightwing #red hood #jason todd #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x y/n #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n

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eurydicum · 5 years

Text

semblance — s.s

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader

Category: disdain to ‘love’, angst? , fluff at the end

Summary: Being an illusionist doesn’t go well by Stephen, but he’s gonna have to put up with it somehow.

Word Count: 4k

Author’s Note: This is best read on the website rather than the mobile app, the app flubs up the formatting of it all

I pretty much said fuck it to the actual canon or realities of the MCU, this is just for fun and not a severe technical piece lmao

I also don’t know if I’ll continue writing for Stephen, but if you want more from me just let me know! I absolutely love him, but I’m not sure if anyone would enjoy my content of him haha

—

strange master list

“It’s a pleasure,”

You smiled softly at the heroes that had been seated in the common room. Unfortunately, not everyone had been there, but Tony claimed that ‘it was good enough’. Spider-Man, whom you have just learned was known as Peter Parker, fidgeted in his seat as he was tempted to ask you a question.

“What is it, Pete? Spit it out,” Tony cut-in, noticing his fascinated expression and eager posture.

“Can I see one of your illusions?” Peter asked with a bright grin, and your heart melted at the sight of this adorable teen practically lurch in his seat to get a sight of your powers.

“I think it’s best for all of us to see,” Bruce added in. “So we can know what we’re working with,” He clarified a little more, looking among the rest of the group.

Your powers required a short mental preparation whenever you had to mystify numerous people, and unfortunately was a pathetic downside, but you would learn to lessen this with time. You closed your eyes, entering back into the room around you in the palace of your mind. The illusions began the moment you shot yourself back into reality, your eyes shot back open again — hauntingly white.

You kept yourself from doing too much, but you did simply weave a gold throughout the room. You swirled the golden ribbon in the very center, allowing it to explode and scatter among the group. Peter was easily intrigued by this, reaching his hands out to catch gold dust. Rhodey, Steve, and Bruce weren’t insanely impressed quite yet but did look about the golden room in their own forms of awe. The powdery dust certainly felt real against their skin, and the way it twinkled underneath the light seemed realistic as well.

Tony remained stoic, not cracking a tinge of a grin. He knew you could do better, and you felt the pressure leaning on you despite him being silent. While Tony saw your gruesome potential first hand, he understood that you didn’t necessarily want to create a mirage of Peggy walking right through the door or anything of the sort. However, that didn’t mean you couldn’t conjure something up a little more impressive and intense.

You glanced toward one of the corridors in the compound, conjuring for Sam and Clint to walk right in and greet the group before joining. Their mannerisms were near perfection, and every detail down to the pore had been there. Steve would’ve openly approached the pair had he not been prepared for the images you created.

You sharply inhaled, washing away the previous illusion of the two men. Instead, you began pulling the walls down, the lights flickering sporadically and the wall decorum falling and crashing onto the ground. Bruce and Peter stood up, almost out of habit, while Rhodey and Steve held themselves tightly to the couch.

“An illusionist? Really?” The voice broke your concentration and the illusion took a halt, and your gaze shot over to the man who had just entered through the portal. Directly after his comment, a low beam of light emerged from his amulet lit up the space, and the man before you seemed undeniably unimpressed.

The others were still trapped in the vicinity of your illusions and were clueless of the entry of the new individual. For them, the world suddenly paused and they looked to you with confusion as you stood there. You blinked for a moment before breaking the barrier between reality and your augmented creation.

The light whir of the portal caught their attention and immediately had been met with the wizard-looking man. Everyone, aside from you and the other man, felt dizzy from the sudden dismantlement of your illusion.

“Oh … Strange,” Tony said once the false world broke around him, brows furrowed as the sorcerer closed up the portal behind him. He ignored Tony’s greeting and kept his glare affixed on you, and your gaze glued to his.

It was clear as day to anyone that you two already didn’t like each other. For a man who could see through your abilities found you useless, and you found his attitude to be pretentious and egotistical. You both had terrible impressions from one another and you hadn’t even said a word to him yet.

Tony cleared his throat and introduced the two of you to one another. While you were polite, Stephen rolled his eyes and waved your hand away. You frowned at this exchange and retreated your hand away from him, arms now crossed and a glare evident in your eyes.

“That’ll be Doctor Strange to you,” Stephen remarked soon after, tilting his chin up in a haughty manner. You scoffed, obviously offended by his outwardly cocky demeanor.

“If you’re not gonna treat me with respect, then why the hell should I give you the pleasure of a formality?” You retorted, creating an even heavier tension to the room. “Asshole,” You grumbled underneath your breath, earning a menacing glare from the doctor.

You and Stephen kept on bantering back and forth, hurling insults at one another. Your fists were clenched and you were quietly fuming, ears tinted red and eyes narrowed. Stephen kept his composure, but the look in his eyes made it clear that he was aggravated.

Bruce awkwardly glanced over to the other men on the couch, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Rhodey shrugged before lounging back into the couch, watching you and Stephen duke it out. Peter’s eyes shyly met Tony’s, silently begging for some sort of interference in this. Tony sighed, but nevertheless agreed and began to stroll over to the pair.

“You’re incompetent-”

“Ladies, ladies,” Tony cut in sharply, gliding over and draping his arms around both of your shoulders. “You’re both pretty,” He moved you two toward the direction of the rooms, giving Stephen a firm pat on the back before you the pair of you forward.

“Show her to her room, Stephen,” Tony smiled sourly. Stephen sighed, but complied reluctantly — walking forward and expecting you to trail behind him. Of course, you did. As you and Stephen left, you heard the faint sound of a self-induced smack followed by: ‘Tony! You get them away from each other,’ from Rhodey, then a ‘He doesn’t even live here?’ from an unsure Peter.

‘Eh, they’ll skip the part where they hate each other and get to the part where they’re shirtless,’

Fucking Stark.

You rolled your eyes as you heard this comment, and noticed Stephen uncomfortably tense — making it evident that he obviously heard Tony’s comment. You and Stephen continued to silently stroll to where your vacant room would be, and you took in the architecture around you.

“What’s your problem with me?” You spoke out of nowhere, barely giving a glance to the back of Stephen. He sighed, rolling his eyes at your question.

Without even trying, you made the sorcerer retreat to his narrow-minded roots. Stephen had never met an illusionist before you, and God he didn’t want anything to do with you. He didn’t deny you having potentially strong capabilities, but really all he detected were simple mirages. Stephen really did find Tony Stark to be somewhat incompetent, so who’s to say that he didn’t choose someone incompetent as well?

To him, you were nothing more than a parlor trick.

“Your capabilities are limited, and I honestly don’t understand why Stark had you join us in the first place,” Stephen addressed bluntly, a dark glower to his eyes. “You’re useless,” Your cheeks turn hot, feeling embarrassed by his brutal statement. You knew that you couldn’t contradict him, especially as you hadn't perfected most everything and you were weak.

“How can you determine that when you can’t even see them?”

“Selective seeing,” Stephen responded plainly, motioning to his amulet briefly. “And I didn’t see anything serviceable,”

“Piss off,” You groaned.

You’ve known this man for no more than ten minutes and he already was becoming the bane of your existence. You didn’t want to let him infuriate you, but here you were. His unbridled insults irked you majorly. You both approached the empty room after a few more moments of walking, and you peered inside — a singular floor lamp in the middle of the room.

“Thank you, Strange,” You stated sarcastically, looking back over your shoulder to see the man still there.

“Doctor,” He reminded with a light-hearted scoff.

“Feel free to go now,” You nodded at him with a stoic look, swatting your hand to shoo the sorcerer away. “Not unless you have more verbal assault for me,” You sardonically added in, raising your brows.

“Hm, I’ll save it for another night,” Stephen huffed, staring at you for a little longer before departing. You sighed and walked over to the floor lamp, sitting down next to it and turning on the light. Still somewhat heated, you shut your eyes and began designing your new room.

While you were playing designer, Stephen had walked back to the kitchen — Tony being the only person left now as the others dispersed to saunter about wherever. Stephen approached him, leaning against one of the counters as he gave a disappointed stare at Tony.

“Why have her here?” Stephen groaned, causing a chuckle to come from the other man. “She’s just a simple illusionist-”

“Hey, just ‘cause you have a vendetta doesn’t mean I can’t choose her for this,” Tony hastily responded, quirking a brow at him while he sipped from his cup of coffee. Stephen rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as he continued to eye Tony.

“I’m already here so why waste the time and effort in training her?” Stephen haughtily questioned.

“You sure are covering up your jealousy,” Tony sarcastically drawled, setting the coffee mug down on the counter. “She has potential and I have faith in her,” He defended, giving Stephen a perfectly serious glare.

“Give her a chance,”

That night ended with Stephen Strange staying at the compound for a short while to play silent mentor and watch you develop in your abilities. Tony and Stephen argued for hours on end, but came to the consensus of you staying as an Avenger if Stephen found you to be up-to-par. Of course, Tony was egotistical enough (and had that much faith in you) to allow this to happen.

You could impress Stephen, and Tony knew damn well you would.

—

For the next few days you endured general fitness training with Steve, hand-to-hand combat training with Natasha, and a lot of self-studying. With every lesson Stephen would stand among the sidelines to watch you, ensuring that you were doing decently well.

Of course, he threw the occasional insult at you that distracted you in the slightest. Stephen, truthfully, concurred with Tony that you were great with combat and the like. However, you had yet to show improvement in your actual mystical ability.

And what would be the point of being an Avenger if you couldn’t even hone in your arcane skills?

Upon trying to find you, just for a little check, Stephen came upon the library and found you reading to pass out on your books. Your hand pressed against your cheek as you absentmindedly played with your disheveled hair. Your eyes fluttered in attempts to keep yourself awake, but of course, it failed and you ultimately laid your head in your arms. Stephen found this sight rather amusing and approached your resting form.

“You’re not going to improve in anything if you sleep on your books,” Stephen whispered lowly into your ear. You shot up, insanely startled by the cavalier comment, You breathed shakily, meeting eye-to-eye with the sorcerer who awoken you.

“For God’s sake,” You moaned, burying your face into your hands. Stephen let out a slight chuckle at your flabbergasted disposition. You looked to him with upset, but sleepy eyes.

“Come on,” Stephen swiped away your books, closing them firmly. “You’re obviously tired, just go to bed,” He suggested, smugly looking down at your exhausted self.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” You weakly slurred. You pushed away from the desk and stood up, lazily trying to grab at your books. Out of amusement, he held the books high above his head — watching as you knocked your head into his head and groaned, trying to grasp your belongings weakly.

“Fuck this and fuck you, I’m over it,” You eventually grumbled, shoving Stephen away. You slumped away from the library, yawning loudly before wandering back to your room.

A few moments after you departed, Stephen opened up one of your books to its marked page — eyes scanning over the images and words that were upon the page. He smiled to himself, finding the rather vague writings amusing.

While he disdained you, there was no harm in at least making sure you wouldn’t read yourself to death. Stephen began to stride back to his room, holding your books in hand. He decided upon returning them in the morning after doing a little light reading.

Stephen hastily passed by your room, seeing the door wide open and a soft glow coming from within. Curiously, he peered in to see you sleeping peacefully in your room. Around you, there was a gentle glow of blue swirling about your room. Stephen stepped inside for a moment, approaching the origin of the glow. He knelt by your bed, inspecting your hands whilst they surged blue — your veins radiant.

The sorcerer deduced that this was simply an outlet for your abilities, and it was simply expressed during the night. To him, he sensed that your magic was at its strongest despite being so subtle. The energy was powerful, but it was peculiar that it emerged when you were at your most vulnerable. Stephen hummed lowly in amusement, quietly stepping out of the room so as to not awaken you — ready to read up all about your abilities.

—

“Stephen needs you in the common room,” Natasha mentions as soon as you were done training with Steve. You groaned, but thank her for informing you of this new nuisance. You also thanked Steve only last time before departing from the training room.

Honestly, you were trying to make it to the common room as slowly as possible. You barely remembered your exchange last night with the sorcerer and somewhat assumed that he was only here to mock you.

“You forgot something last night,” Stephen teased the moment that you barely stepped into the vicinity of the common room. You sighed as he waved your books in the air. You sauntered over to where he was lounging on the couch and took back the books, muttering a not-so-gracious thanks. Quickly, you attempted to escape his presence and go about your day with as little of a nuisance as possible.

“Stay here,” Stephen commanded, literally roping you back. The binds weren’t terribly strong, but just enough to pull you back close to him. He spun you around and made you face the smug bastard.

“The amulet isn’t in use,” Stephen pointed out, making a gesture toward said object. “Perform for me,” He haughtily tested, smirking lightly. Without complaint, you sat on the ground and stared up at him with a discrete amount of disgust. You knew that this was part of his numerous testings for you, and you had no room to complain about that portion of it all.

You closed your eyes, and they returned to be blank white as they had before. In the circle of your illusion barrier, you caused the room to darken and allow the floor to disappear into pitch black. You levitated before him and stared him down. You built up never-ending shelves filled with books and sent every single one raining down onto him. Stephen did feel the mirage of heavy books weighing down his shoulders, and slowly got pushed into the couch.

However, much to your chagrin, he kept an unamused expression. He sat right back up, legs crossed and seemingly unaffected by what you threw at him. The moment that you saw his reaction, you began pouring more and more reckless illusions. From changing the setting to the middle of a busy street to posing an enemy to threaten his damn life. Nothing worked, and nothing changed his expression.

As you got more desperate, the illusions began to weaken and crackle under your control. The last illusion you had managed to stutter out was one of a morbid contort of his hands. It was a weak gesture, but that’s all that you needed to really affect the sorcerer. You never saw his expression change, but it certainly did.

Eventually, it all shattered around the pair of you. You were far more affected than Stephen had been, almost entirely collapsing where you sat. Your breath was labored and your whole body was shaking.

Stephen tilted your chin up, seeing blood flow from your nose. Your eyes were still blanketed white, but not as blank as earlier on. You pursed your lips, suppressing your scowl as you slapped his hand away from you. You weakly got up from the floor and left the room without another word, fists balled tightly and frustration flowing out as tears.

—

During the evening after your exchange with Stephen, you sat in your room and planted yourself firmly in the center. You breathed in deeply and exhaled sharply as you kept your eyes shut. The world around you silenced into nothing as you awoke in your fictional realm.

You birthed life from nothing, lifting trees from the black and giving color to the sky. Green filled underneath your feet and little plants began to sprout from the soil. The span of months and years passed by in seconds, and everything functioned in the same timely manner.

From the distance, you forged an image of Stephen. You approached the mirage, standing face-to-face with the copy. Out of matters of frustration, you made the man sink down to his knees — letting his body contort and become horrifically misshapen. The once tranquil Earth shattered to apocalyptic nothing as you tortured this mirror image of the man you grew to loathe.

You felt blood and tears dripping down your face as you took out all your frustrations. But with your fury came your displenishing of your power. You felt yourself get weak in the knees as you continued to let Stephen get battered and bruised.

Eventually, everything collapsed — as did you. You fell to the ground, exhausted mentally and emotionally. You huffed heavily, trying to lift yourself back to your feet. Each time brought you back to the ground with a thud. You burst out into tears, shaking terribly as you let yourself splay on the floor.

Never before had you ever felt so useless. This horrible doctor made you feel absolutely aggravated and made you feel as if you were the scum of the earth. You wanted to stay in the position that Tony gave you, but if you couldn’t even keep your emotions intact — or your illusions for that matter, then maybe you didn’t deserve to be there.

“[Y/N],” You heard Stephen’s voice whisper from the now-opened doorway. You looked up to him, your face an absolute bloodied and sobbing mess. You tried to stand again, feeling the urge to physically harm him. He made you miserable day-in and day-out. Stephen didn’t deserve any of your kindness.

However, on the contrary, you were deserving of some soft care. Wordlessly, Stephen picked you up from the ground and carried you to your bed. He sat on the edge, hand disappearing through a small portal to grab a washcloth from you.

“Is it your new life mission to make me feel like shit?” You choked out, wheezing slightly from the immense crying you experienced earlier. Stephen shook his head and took the washcloth to your face, gently cleaning off the grime.

“I’m sorry,” Stephen apologized. After your ‘performance’ earlier that day, he could see your potential bursting at the seams. However, he truly was being far too harsh on a woman who was still learning and growing — just as he had did before. You needed the tough treatment, but he held his expectations unrealistically high. He was blinded by ego and pettiness, and that obviously affected you as well.

Stephen was being painfully close-minded, and your reaction to your own collapse proved that. Just his silent resentment made you frustrated and crumble, and it sent you through numerous forms of pain. Truly, he felt entirely awful for being the center of your agony.

It was difficult for him to apologize, but he knew it was needed. And so he swallowed his pride.

“That’s all you have to fucking say?” You moaned, grabbing him by the collar and lifting yourself up from the bed. Your fingers curled tightly around the fabric, crying just a bit more as you suppressed the urge to slap him then and there.

“I’m being too harsh on you,” Stephen admitted, continuing to clean off your face despite your tight grip. “You’re powerful beyond belief, and I recognized that long ago,” He admitted, curling your hair behind your ear.

“You’ll hate me still, and I can’t blame you for that,” Stephen added on, drawing the bloodied cloth away from you. “I want to apologize for being so terrible, you don’t deserve any of it,” He softly said, folding up the cloth and gently placing it on the ground. All the while, he kept his gaze affixed to you.

“You’re more than being ‘good enough’ for the Avengers,” Stephen complimented, causing you to smile small to yourself. You intertwined your own fingers together, twiddling your thumbs as you avoided his eyes. “You no longer have to prove yourself, especially to me,” Stephen said, daintily placing a single hand over both of yours.

“I’m still going to hate you,” You muttered, now gaining the smallest ounce of confidence to look the man in the eyes. “But, I thank you for the apology,” You sheepishly added, sending him a weak smile.

“I can tell it took a lot,” You jested.

“Yes, it … it did,” Stephen lightly chuckled. The moment remained silent between you two, and you could tell that he had another pressing comment that he wanted to utter.

“Spit it out,” You lowly commanded.

“I’ve seen you with everyone else, and you’re clever enough to really let them crumble. Except with me,” Stephen paused. You wanted to roll your eyes, but you kept your reactions to a halt as you knew he was trying to be sentimental in a way.

“You were able to get into their head simply, and you did the same to me,” Stephen claimed. “It just took a little longer,” He extended his hands out to you, showing off the backs of them. You noticed how they quivered and how soft his voice became as you stared at them intensely.

“You created the illusion of contorting my hands,” Stephen recalled, drawing away after the mention. Truthfully, that last illusion was a final act of desperation. You didn’t want to invade his insecurities and fears, but you did — and it absolutely impressed and shocked the man. His gaze affixed on you tightly once again, and bid you to bed with a final exchange of words that you held onto.

“There’s ultimate power in what’s subtle and controlled. And you managed to do that and defy it,”

#stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange imagine #doctor strange imagine

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