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steventhusiast · 2 days

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STWG prompt 2/6/24

prompt: coming out

pairing/character(s): steddie, Dustin, Lucas, Mike

. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Eddie fucked up. Big time.

See, he's truly embraced his freak status at Hawkins High. Meaning he doesn't exactly shy away from his queerness. He doesn't confirm it, not for people he's not friends with. It's just useful. Being gay is the kind of 'freak' that makes the popular kids steer clear from him, just in case they, you know, catch the queer from him.

But with his fellow freaks? They know he's gay.

In fact, they know he has a boyfriend.

He never shares who said boyfriend is, or the fact that he used to be nicknamed The Hair, because Steve doesn't want anyone to know. He's.. private about his sexuality, to say the least. And Eddie gets it. Hawkins is in the middle of nowhere, it's not exactly gay-friendly like some parts of bigger cities. So his friends don't know who his boyfriend is.

They won't until well after Steve's come out to his own friends, which he hasn't said he's ready for yet. Eddie's letting him go at his own pace, he doesn't even bring it up to him. He doesn't want Steve to feel pressured. Steve doesn't have a Wayne there to support him through everything, after all.

Anyway, despite him being anonymous, Eddie always gives everyone an update on his boyfriend before they start the session of DnD each week. It's kind of a bit for everyone involved at this point.

And in the first session that Eddie's newest fresh sheep attend, he refuses to shy away from it. Either they'll be bigots (unlikely) or they'll be fine with it! It's a risk he's willing to take for his pride.

So he gives the update.

"How's your boyfriend, Ed?" Gareth asks with a teasing grin, and Eddie's closest friends lean toward him with giggles.

"Well, my sweetheart has had a great week. Remember that job I told you he'd applied for?"

"Assistant basketball coach for a kids team?" Jeff checks, and Eddie points at him like he's just scored a point.

"That's the one! He got the job! It's a bit of a drive but it sure as shit beats the minimum wage bullshit he was doing before. I swear, his manager actually hates his guts for no reason."

The existing Hellfire members all cheer at the news, whilst one of the new recruits, Henderson, makes an inquisitive noise and chuckles.

"That's crazy, because my friend Steve called me yesterday with super similar news! Small world, huh?" He says it so casually, looking down straight after to fiddle with his dice.

But Eddie feels like the world stops, his hands freezing in the middle of unfolding his dungeon master screen. Fuck. Henderson is one of Steve's kids.

Maybe no one has actually caught on yet. A sneaky glance to his friends reveals nothing but confused frowns on their faces.

"You guys might have known Steve, actually. Steve Harrington? Used to be a mega asshole through most of high school." Wheeler says in a way that somehow sounds simultaneously fond and like he despises Steve.

"He's great now, though! Like, totally reformed. Such a mom." Sinclair adds on.

Eddie nods passively at their words, and feels Gareth, Jeff and Paul's eyes on him. Right, he's still frozen in shock. He forces himself to relax, and finally finishes setting up the DM screen.

"Haha, what a coincidence." He manages, clearing his throat in the middle to clear up an unfortunate voice crack.

That voice crack gets all three of the kids to tilt their heads at him, and then their eyes light up like they've just won the lottery.

Shit shit shit. Hopefully they haven't put two and two together.

Somehow, he manages to make it through the session without revealing anything else, but as he draws it to a close his heart starts beating faster. He doesn't know how he didn't put it together before that these kids are Steve's kids. Steve is literally going to be late to their date night because he has to pick them up from an afterschool activitiy.

What other club meets up on a Friday but Hellfire?

He shakes his head and starts speeding through packing up his stuff. He's going through in his head ways to apologise to Steve in case the kids have figured it out, heart beating out of his chest as he zips his backpack up and leaves the room. The group of newbies run out after him, though.

"Eddie, wait up!" Henderson shouts after him, and he winces but stops.

"What's up?" He says with what he hopes is a smile but is probably a grimace.

"It's so funny how you're Steve's secret boyfriend." Henderson says with a giggle after he's checked no one else has left the drama room yet.

Wait, what? Eddie frowns at him, mouth open. Before he can question anything Sinclair nods along in agreement.

"We've been guessing for weeks now. You can't tell him we found out through you, I want to win our bet."

"If we figure out who his boyfriend is by the end of the month he's taking us to that tabletop RPG store in Indy." Wheeler adds on.

Eddie gapes at them for another second.

"Wait, Steve- he came out to you? When?" He manages, and the three boys tilt their heads at him.

"Like, since a month ago?" Sinclair guesses after a moment of thought, and Eddie lets out a quiet 'huh'.

"What, do you guys not talk about that shit?" Henderson asks, and Eddie shakes his head slowly, thinking back on if he had been told and had just forgotten.

Then it clicks. Just under a month ago, Steve had started to bring up the topic of coming out, and Eddie had gently insisted he didn't mind if Steve never came out and that he loves him anyway and he doesn't want him to feel pressured. And Steve had smiled fondly and let it go.

Had Steve been trying to tell him he came out to his kids?

He lets his head drop and takes a few deep breaths, trying to slow his heart rate. Thank fuck. He hasn't just accidentally outed his boyfriend.

"He's actually waiting for us in his car. I would say come with, but..."

"We're serious about this bet."

Eddie nods, and waves his hand in their general direction.

"Yeah, of course. Sure. You- you go win that bet. Jesus christ."

He hears them walk away and lets out an incredulous laugh to himself before he hears the drama room door swing open again, the chatter of Jeff, Gareth and Paul cutting off when they see the state he's in.

"You good, man?" Paul asks, and Eddie just lets out a sigh.

"Totally fine. Just thinking about wooing my sweetheart." He says, like they've walked into a joke he's set up.

They all groan, but continue walking toward the school's exit, and Eddie stays there, recovering from that shitshow.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie drabble #steve harrington #eddie munson #so rambly #stwgdailyprompt #dailydrabble

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chandralia · 2 days

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Toga saying she loves both boys and girls explicitly, that she loves differently, was ridiculed/abused for FOR loving differently, saying she wanted to be like people around her instead. Twice suggesting her villain name be Carmilla? (THE FIRST LESBIAN VAMPIRE)

Ochako calling herself strange for wanting to save Toga, reaching out and leveling, speaking in a way only Toga can understand, telling her she’s the cutest girl in the whole world, and offering to give Toga her blood for the rest of her life??

Deku saying “I’ve spent my life chasing after you,”“you’re my image of victory,” that he “can’t imagine a world in which kacchan doesn’t exist,” “kacchan and everyone else” over and over again, LOSING HIS MIND WHEN ONLY KATSUKI’S INJURED, being told to control his heart three times (COUNT THEM: THREE) over Katsuki?? Kudou having to use Katsuki to motivate Deku? “their feelings become one” just from locking eyes…???? Deku’s world shifting when Katsuki’s alive again, looking at him in awe (the way he’s only ever looked at him).

Katsuki risking his life for Deku repeatedly, thinking of only him before death, having to imagine Deku in danger to further his quirk, being targeted because he’s the closest to Deku (VERBALLY STATED BY SHIGAFO), avoiding medical care at every turn to get to Deku, always reminiscing about their past, A MISSED HANDHOLD, imagining their future together and breaking down crying in front of Deku at the possibility of that being ripped from him, saying he wanted them to keep doing this forever?

“that’s just how shonen is, everyone’s gay but no one’s canon” SHUT UP PLEASE. we quite literally do not know what Hori is or isn’t allowed to do. He’s been vocal about fighting for what he wants in his story, and even if it is an executive or editor saying “no you can’t do this” look what he’s managed to do so far.

not to mention THREE canon trans characters, toga correcting overhaul at misgendering. kendo saying “I just want to be me” when talking about gender, the entire side plot with discrimination and people fighting for acceptance, Hori reading and approving all the stuff that happens in the light novels/team up missions, AND thanking/praising those authors for knowing his characters so well.

His assistant (nstime23) openly shipping bkdk, drawing fanart of them, blatantly using their ship name, WHILE STILL BEING MUTUALS WITH HORI.

and the reception???

Hori does not live under a rock. It’s not an “oopsie he made it gay on accident” thing, and it’s not done maliciously either.

sharing what I’ve said before because I’m tired:

#I haven’t ranted like this in a while but YEAH #queer-coding is NOT queerbaiting.#a lot of these aren’t even coding they just ARE queer lol #bkdk #dkbk #bakudeku #dekubaku #:’)#ktdk #togachako

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deliciousangelfestival · 3 days

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The Malicious Daughter is Back! - 3

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

Chap 1, Chap 2 , Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5 , -

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

You scoffed, “Are you willing to wait until school is over? As you can see, I have to teach my precious students.”

Bucky smirked. This was the first time you had seen him smile. You had to admit he was handsome. Victoria must be proud, as Bucky was way out of her league.

But you didn't want to get close to him since he was already your step-sister's fiancé. Perhaps he had the same character as her.

Bucky interrupted your thoughts, “You don't have to worry since the principal has given you permission to leave after this class.”

Unbeknownst to you, before he entered your class, Andre had brought him to the principal's office. Bucky had bribed the principal with cigars.

For the first time, Andre saw his principal, who usually wore a flat expression from the stress of dealing with delinquent students, laugh heartily as he picked up the cigars. “Haha… of course. Miss Sinclair needs a day off.”

Clueless about Bucky's deal with the principal, you raised your eyebrows in surprise, not expecting the principal to give you a day off so easily.

Half a day without dealing with the delinquents wasn't a bad idea. As you rose from your seat, you issued a directive, "Fine. Let's go."

You pointed towards the hallway and added, "And stick close to me. It's like a jungle out there."

As Bucky followed behind you, he soon realized the context of your warning. The students erupted in cheers, though the intent behind their vocalizations remained ambiguous, potentially constituting either catcalls or attempts to provoke offense.

"You've got a rich sugar daddy, miss," one student jeered, while another offered unsolicited advice, "Dude, run while you still have the chance."

A misguided attempt at physical interaction occurred when one student attempted to bump into Bucky, prompting him to sidestep, causing the student to stumble and fall.

"Dude, what the heck?" the surrounding students exclaimed in confusion.

"Pardon me," Bucky politely interjected as he maneuvered away from the scene.

Observing the exchange, you addressed the student, Mark, with a pointed remark, "That's what you get."

In response, Mark displayed a gesture of defiance, raising his middle finger, to which you reciprocated in kind.

Witnessing the interaction between you and your students, Bucky noted your lack of fear, interpreting your demeanor as assertive and resilient.

“RINNNGG!”

Break time was over, and it was time for the students to return to their classrooms. However, none of them made a move.

You understood the reason; they knew you were leaving.

Standing near the school door, you raised your right arm and held up three fingers.

“If I count to three and you guys are still here, I'll make all of you fail my class,” you warned them, your tone firm and commanding.

“We'll make you viral, b*tch! This is unfair,” Mark protested.

“Try me. One…” You began the countdown, your voice echoing through the hallway, your expression steely.

Before you could even say “two,” the students scattered, rushing back to their classrooms in a panic.

Bucky watched in awe, though he didn't verbalize it. Instead, he gave you an impressed look, admiration evident in his eyes.

You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “Like I said before, devil spawn.”

Bucky chuckled and held the door open for you, a gesture of respect and acknowledgment of your authority.

💋💋💋💋💋

He brings you to a luxurious café, seemingly inspired by Moroccan design. The place features intricate tiles, arched doorways, and rich colors. Elegant furniture, soft lighting, and comfortable seating create a warm atmosphere.

It had been a long time since you visited a place like this, reminiscent of times before you were kicked out by your stepmother.

Opting for the cheapest drink on the menu, you ordered a cold brew, not wanting to owe him anything more than necessary.

Your drink arrived promptly, and you tasted it. The taste of the coffee made you forget about the shitty cafeteria coffee you just had. Compared to you, who ordered a simple drink, Bucky's was unique.

His coffee was prepared right before him, with the server announcing, “We have prepared your coffee cup, sir.”

Bucky nodded graciously. “Thank you.”

“You're very welcome, sir,” the server replied before departing. “Enjoy.”

Bucky savored his coffee with an air of elegance, his movements precise and refined. You couldn't help but notice that he had been wearing leather gloves this whole time.

Taking a sip of your drink, you asked, “So… What do you want to talk about?”

Bucky set down his drink and met your gaze with his calm, cold demeanor.

“It's about last night,” he began, his expression unreadable as he spoke.

You grumbled, “Oh my god. Are you going to sue me for sexual harassment? I'm sorry. It's a bad habit of mine, doing something without thinking. Please don't sue me. I don't have the money to hire a lawyer.”

Bucky struggled to follow your rapid speech. “No, calm down. I won't sue you. It's just…” He paused, taking a deep breath to compose himself.

Or did Victoria cry to Bucky and ask him to teach you a lesson? You couldn't help but wonder what he was going to say next.

“I have this disorder, Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD). The symptoms include being overly sensitive to sensory input, including touch,” he explained, his gaze shifting to observe your reaction.

“No judgment here. I've encountered various cases of trauma from my students,” felt relieved a bit you reassured him, trying to offer some comfort.

“Thank you for understanding,” Bucky replied gratefully. “When someone touches me without my consent, I will vomit or I will faint.”

Your eyes widened in realization. “Shit.” Guilt washed over you as you began to fully comprehend the impact of your actions.

Bucky confessed, “The weirdest thing is, when you touched me, kissed me, my body didn't have any reaction.”

You lifted your head in confusion. “Huh?”

“I went to different psychologists, tried many medicines, doctors, meditations, but none of them worked. Except you. A stranger that I've never met,” Bucky elaborated.

“Are you sure?” you asked, still trying to process the revelation.

Bucky then removed his leather gloves and called the waitress over. “You. Come here.”

The waitress approached, curious about Bucky's request. “Yes, sir?”

Bucky extended his bare hand. “Shake my hand.”

The waitress, unsure of the situation, complied and shook Bucky's hand.

In an instant, Bucky grabbed a nearby bucket and began to vomit.

The waitress and you were both shocked. Bucky, who had been calm and composed moments ago, now appeared pale and sickly in just a matter of seconds.

Could what he said really be true?

Bucky wiped his mouth and apologized to the waitress, his tone sincere. “I'm sorry. Please don't be offended. It's not because of you. I hope the tips my secretary will give you could cheer you up.”

The waitress, still unsure of what just happened, responded hesitantly, “Ah, thank you?”

Bucky's secretary appeared seemingly out of nowhere and began conversing with the waitress, diverting her attention.

Left alone with Bucky, he raised his hand again, as if asking for your right hand. Confused, you offered your hand, which he gently took and held in his.

You thought it might have been a mistake, but Bucky showed no reaction. He closed his eyes, seemingly waiting for something to happen. There was no rapid heartbeat, no sweating, and no urge to vomit.

He opened his eyes and saw you looking thoughtful. “Thank you for your patience and trust.”

You replied, “Ehm, glad to help.”

“My predictions were correct. You could be the answer to my disorder. I will make you a generous offer,” Bucky stated. His voice tone sounded like happiness is in it.

"Really?" You could ask for money for your grandmother's surgery. After you were kicked out of the house, you lived with your grandmother from your mother's side. After your mother died, your father stopped sending money to your grandmother.

Bucky nodded, his expression serious.

You hesitated. "Wait. Does Victoria know about this?"

Bucky shook his head. “Besides my parents, only you know about this.”

“Both of you are going to get married, and you didn't want to share the truth?” you questioned. Poor Victoria, the man she will marry, has a cold heart.

You were supposed to be the bad guy, glad that she would receive her karma. But why did this remind you of something?

He went silent. The thought of marriage with Victoria irked Bucky. He pulled on his leather hand gloves again and rested his hand on the table. He looks like he's discussing a business deal worth billions.

“The truth is, I saw this marriage as a business deal. I don't have the desire to have a heart-to-heart conversation with your stepsister. And from what I've seen of her, it's better if I don't talk to her about my disorder,” Bucky explained.

His tone was cold, sending a shiver down your spine. No wonder the Barnes family had been successful conglomerates for so long—they knew how to get what they wanted.

But there was something you didn't agree with. “I want to help you,” you stated.

Bucky visibly lightened up at your words.

You crossed your arms tightly, a frown creasing your brow. “But after what you said to hide it from your fiance, you reminded me of my father. A man of few words. A hero in business, but a failure in family.”

Your father, Jonathan, lived and breathed for money. He left everything about the household to your mom, while the families’ businesses thrived. But after your mother died, her family's business went bankrupt, and he didn't offer much help.

You didn't want to assist another man who reminded you of your dad.

Placing a dollar bill on the table to pay for your drink, you stood up abruptly. “I hope you find a cure, but I won't be the one to help you. Thank you and goodbye.” You grabbed your coat and started walking away.

Bucky hadn't expected you to reject him. And what's more outrageous is you're comparing him with your father. Bullshit.

He scoffed, his fingers tapping the table in frustration. No one had ever said no to him before.

He turned around and saw your back. “What if I raise my offer? Your childhood home and Velari into your hands?”

Your foot stopped before you reached the door. How did he know your deepest desire? The home you got kicked out of was the treasure from your mom. That beautiful home was designed by her; she was a designer.

And Velari, the fashion brand built by your mother, was now occupied by Celestial Enterprises, owned by Genevieve. It was your birthright to inherit your mother's work, but that other woman and her devil spawn were able to kick you out.

Lost in your daydream, you didn't realize Bucky was standing before you. “Do you like that deal?”

You lifted your head, meeting his gaze with a hint of mischief in your eyes. A sly smile played on your lips as you reached out and gently took his hand in yours.

Bucky felt a sudden surge of heat as your fingers intertwined with his.

You lifted his leather-clad right hand and brought it closer to your lips. Gently, you pressed a kiss against it. "With an offer like that, I might just be tempted to give you more than just my hand."

The gesture made Bucky shiver, though he didn't feel any disgust. This feeling was completely different from what he experienced last night.

From this moment, he knew you're a natural seducer, and he was playing with fire.

Author Note: I had goosebumps writing the last part. I hope you like this chapter. 💓💋

Taglist:

@thezombieprostitute

@thetravelingtyper

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@chemtrails-club

@dexter99

@seresingirlie

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@tfatwsoldir

@itsteambarnes

@toldyouitwasamelodrama

@sapphirebarnes

@thedonswife13

@angelbabyyy99

@cjand10

@esposadomd

@buckitostan

Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

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sprout-fics · 1 day

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sprout do you have any thoughts about poly ghostgaz dynamic with reader?

Oh this is very interesting. There is not nearly enough GhostGaz content, and I think this is an interesting challenge for a character study.

Gaz and Ghost in a poly dynamic, from what I've seen, is usually only done with the inclusion of the third team member (primarily Soap) which makes sense. We see that Price and Ghost know each other prior to the assembly of the 141, and Ghost and Soap are partnered for an entire campaign in MWII. The two of them together get very minimal interaction, so most of what I'm theorizing here is up to interpretation.

GhostGaz x Reader Poly Dynamics

(Gif credit @yumethefrostypanda)

(This is all headcanon and my personal take on things, feel free to disagree elsewhere)

MDNI, GN Reader, Mostly SFW, Poly dynamics, Character study

Ghost and Gaz have two diamterically opposed communication styles. Ghost is shown to be dry and blunt, communicating only what is necessary aside from a dose of humor with those he trusts. He is inherently distrustful of even his allies, as we see in the MWII alone mission, where he considers the possibility that even Price, Laswell, and Gaz are in on whatever betrayal has occurred. I imagine this changes the longer he works with the team, but suffice to say his communication with Gaz begins very minimal and closed off.

Gaz, on the other hand, is seen to be open, friendly, and sharing his thoughts with those around him (Piccadilly cutscene, and again when faced with Graves' survival) I see Gaz as someone who values communication above all else in a relationship. He trusts those around him, and when he doesn't it is very clearly evident (refusing to shake Graves' hand in a MWIII cutscene) So Ghost's closed off nature and lack of communication tends to be a large turnoff for him.

The solution to that, of course, is to incorporate a third into this dynamic to offer a buffer of sorts and facilitate this bridge. This would have to be someone who can navigate the push and pulls of a relationship between the two of them, able to discern when to push and when to give space to both of them.

That's not to say it wouldn't work. Only that Gaz and Ghost have different needs. Gaz is a giver, he needs to please his partner in order to be happy with himself. He tends to ask for little in return, which can be detrimental sometimes as you need to look for the signs of when he's offering too much. Gaz tends to offer even more when he's feeling insecure and desperate as a way of reassuring himself he feels wanted and needed.

It's not dissimilar to Ghost, who sometimes refuses to talk about his needs altogether. When Ghost feels insecure he self-isolates, broods, and doesn't communicate effectively. Other times he will demand more than what you can offer in a way that's greedy and possessive on the surface, but speaks of a desperation on the inside. Knowing the signs from both of them is crucial to making any dynamic between these two work.

At the same time, these traits of theirs actually balance themselves out. Gaz is a giver, and Ghost sometimes asks more than you can give by yourself. Together the both of you know how to handle Simon into something mildly resembling softness, allowing the worn edges of him to become less cutting, less sharp. Ghost isn't one to be coddled, but simple acts from the both of you that speak louder than words tend to reassure him he's safe, comfortable, and that he can trust you both. Give him tea, sit with him in comfortable silence as he cleans his weapons, gently offer him skin to skin contact if he needs it. You'll watch his shoulders slump, his head dip a little as he eases.

With Gaz, Simon knows how to cut through any of the doubts the sergeant may be having. It sometimes takes a firm word to snap Gaz out of any bad thoughts he may be having. Even then, it's crucial to give him an outlet in which to provide for you as a way of soothing himself. Sex plays an important role in this, with Ghost sometimes directing Gaz as he sees fit, conducive to your pleasure. This means lazily stroking his cock as Gaz eats you out, splaying a large, gloved palm over the back of Kyle's head and pushing him further into your hole. It works just as well for Simon, who sees this type of intimacy as a way for him to establish himself in his own role- a giver in a different sense.

There's still hurdles to making this dynamic work. Gaz will sometimes push Ghost to communicate before he's ready, and Ghost will sometimes be rougher with both you and Gaz than he intends. Gaz will get in his head about things sometimes in a way you can't reach, and Ghost will pull him out of it. Knowing both of them, what they need, when, how, and knowing how they express that is what makes this work.

Gaz learns to be more confident in himself and this dynamic, and Ghost learns to be better at opening up when he needs to. You're the glue that keeps them together, that allows all of you to feel open and comfortable with each other.

...You're going to need a bigger mattress though.

#ghost x gaz #gaz x ghost #ghostgaz #ghostgaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #reader insert

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flowerandblood · 3 days

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Incomprehension (Oneshot)

[ Michael • Gavey x math student • female ]

[ warnings: stalking, angst with comfort, depression ]

[ description: Michael Gavey seems to her to be an alien from another planet, and observing him becomes her daily routine. She decides to cheer him up by secretly putting his favorite Crunchie in his backpack, but one day she is caught red-handed. Requests regarding the character stalking Michael and her comforting him after the situation with Oliver at the bar. ]

I thought I'd post this between chapters of The Fall from the Heavens because I really like it even though there is no smut in the story! This will not affect the order in which new chapters will be published.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

She had no idea how it really started. She had watched him for a long time, knowing only that he was the best. Even though he was a student in the same year as her, equations that took her an hour to solve, he solved in a few minutes.

He worked like a machine: when he stood in front of the big board his face was stony. Unlike her, he wasn't frightened or stressed knowing that the whole room of students was watching him – on the contrary, seeing his lips clamped into a tight line, the wrinkles of concentration on his forehead and his wide-open blue eyes, she had the feeling that he derived satisfaction from it.

He wanted his genius to be admired.

They never exchanged a word with each other – even if she had wanted to, she wouldn't have known how to begin, and seeing his outbursts and behaviour that seemed bizarre to others, to say the least, she wasn't sure it would be worth taking the risk and stepping out of the shadows.

Something about him not knowing she was watching him filled her with peace and contentment.

Her year-mate had lamented to her as they sat in the library that one of the handsome, rich boys from a good house had not responded to her greeting as she passed him in the corridor. She nodded in understanding, looking thoughtfully towards the other table.

She didn't understand why he stayed close to Oliver.

This boy seemed too frisky to her, stretched out, wanting too many things at once. He wanted to be humble and feisty at the same time, lonely and surrounded by a group of friends, appreciated and unappreciated, for someone to comfort him.

He wanted to be noticed while remaining in a state of his own uniqueness.

Unlike him, Michael was authentic.

She showed up in the places he walked because he appeared in them like clockwork. His routine became her routine, allowing her to be a passive observer of his life instead of participating in her own.

She didn't want to return her thoughts again to her body and the emptiness she felt as she lay alone at night, thinking that she hated math.

However, it was the only thing she could do well.

The logic of formulas, the certainty of the fundamental, immutable laws that ruled the solving of equations gave her a sense of security.

Words were a strange and unnatural construct to her, and while her mind was full of thoughts, they did not usually find an outlet beyond the basic phrases that allowed her to turn in the company of others.

It wasn't her nature, but her choice: it seemed to her that every time she tried to explain the state of what was happening inside her, no one could comprehend her, giving her cloying advice she hadn't asked for at all.

She wanted to hear that she didn't need to change, instead however, everyone kept telling her that she should smile more, which she did reluctantly.

Why should she smile if she wasn't happy?

Michael was her opposite, and watching him was like observing a rare animal in the zoo: he was loud and unpredictable, his remarks often lacking tact and sometimes even sense, his chin raised in the confidence that emanated from him.

He was a mean bastard and she knew it, but she couldn't hate him.

To her despair, he seemed to evoke entirely different feelings in her.

His behaviour did not repel her: on the contrary, his explosive, quirky nature aroused a kind of admiration in her, as if he were an alien from another planet, someone who did not really exist.

She watched from the sidelines as Oliver slowly began to make his choice, more and more and more allowing Felix and the rest to absorb him like a large, voracious monsters.

She wasn't sure if the look of disappointment on Michael's face when he waved at him from afar and he didn't respond was a result of his sadness or his anger at having wasted his precious time.

It seemed to her that after he started eating and sitting alone again he quietened down and fell silent, disappearing before her eyes.

One day she got the idea of cheering him up and whenever she had the chance, she would slip a small Crunchie bar into his backpack, usually when he was busy talking to someone or when he put it down on the floor and left it in the corridor while going to the toilet.

She would then sit down next to it and, watching to make sure no one saw, slip the bar into the side pocket of his backpack and return to her seat.

Only twice had she seen his reaction to finding her gift tucked in one of his pockets. He would then look around, and she would lower her gaze, pretending that she was engrossed in a textbook on quantum physics.

She would smile involuntarily when she heard the rustling of the paper after a while, and then look at his thoughtful face, his gaze directed somewhere far away as he bit into the bar as if he were eating a burger.

He was so uncouth, so bright, so unpredictable.

However, her lack of vigilance doomed her: she wanted to do what she always did when she saw that he had thrown his backpack on the ground and headed for one of the rooms, apparently to talk to their professor. As soon as she sat down next to his bag, he came out and looked at her.

She froze, feeling her heart start pounding like crazy, cold sweat running down her back.

She picked herself up and moved to flee, unable to face the shame that spread throughout her body.

"– hey – wait – fuck –" He cursed, wanting to follow her, but remembered his backpack, so retreated to pick it up.

She stepped out into the courtyard, not hearing or seeing anything, blinded by the sun, stunned by the noise in her head and the shrill conviction that some kind of veil had fallen between them.

"– are you deaf? –" She heard him behind her, his large hand grabbing her arm too aggressively and too firmly, turning her away with a sharp, impatient jerk. She stopped, looking with big eyes at his blue checked shirt.

"– do you like rummaging through other people's things? –" He sneered, frustrated and amused at the same time. She simply remained silent, staring dully at the fabric of his shirt, smelling some cheap aftershave and his own scent.

He bowed his head, apparently wanting to meet the gaze of her eyes, but when she noticed his blue irises she turned her face away, quivering in his grasp.

"– you're weird –" He decided and let go of her, stepping around her, making her lower lip start to twitch, burning tears of shame, disappointment and regret gathered under her eyelids, running down her face one by one.

She adjusted the straps of her knapsack on her back and moved ahead on trembling legs wanting to forget it had ever happened.

The next day she felt like throwing up at the thought of their lectures together and ate nothing. She rushed to the classroom at the last minute, walking straight into the room without looking at the people who were waiting for their professor in the corridor.

She sat down in one of the last rows in her seat, far to the side, almost against the wall, where she felt safe.

When she saw out of the corner of her eye his silhouette walking into the hall she froze, lowering her gaze to her fingertips, feeling an uncomfortable constriction in her stomach, trying to blend into the background and not exist.

She shuddered when she noticed that instead of taking his seat in the front row across the hall he moved towards her, walking down the row below her, sitting down opposite her. She swallowed hard when he sat sideways to her, spreading his elbows comfortably on his and her desk, leaning his back against the wall.

"– what's up, little freak? –" He asked simply, tapping his fingers against the top of her table. She looked at him with big eyes, feeling a complete emptiness in her head, having the feeling that she was hot and cold at the same time.

For some reason she wanted to cry again.

Hearing that she didn't answer him he lifted his gaze to her, twisting so that he rested his arms on her desk, correcting his glasses that had slipped off his nose with the index finger of his hand.

"– you've got me used to eating one bar every day and you didn't give me one yesterday – you've ruined my daily routine and it's very fucking annoying, you know? –" He asked with anger and some kind of expectation that completely surprised her, but what she said had nothing to do with his words.

"– I didn't look inside –" She muttered.

"– what? –"

"– I wasn't rummaging through your things –" She explained in a trembling voice feeling that for some reason her eyebrows arched in pain, warm tears one by one began to run down her cheeks again.

"– are you crying? –" He asked in disbelief, wrinkles appeared on his forehead as they always did when someone made him uncomfortable.

"– yes –"

"– because I'm talking to you? –"

"– because I'm ashamed –" She whispered and lowered her gaze, swallowing hard, feeling that it had cost her a lot of strength to choke out these few sentences.

He fell silent for a moment – other students began to sit down around them, their professor announcing that they were about to begin their lecture.

He no longer responded to her words, returning to his previous position, leaning with his back against the wall, one of his hands remaining on her desk. She watched dully as his long fingers beat rhythmically against it, repeating the same movements again and again.

As always, he didn't even open his textbook, didn't write anything down or take notes, memorising everything he heard in his head.

She couldn't afford to do that, so she wrote down meticulously everything their professor spoke about, knowing that it would be one of the topics that would appear on the exam.

As soon as their class was over, she saw his silhouette standing in front of her with the textbook in his hand, which for some reason he carried with him. She packed her bag, pretending she didn't feel his expectant gaze on her.

"I want my Crunchie." He communicated, as if giving her some irrelevant piece of information. She looked at him in disbelief, feeling her lips part involuntarily.

Was he always this cheeky and spiteful?

"Here." He said, pulling a few coins out of his pocket, far too many for one bar, placing them in front of her.

"Just bring it to me." He said impatiently and moved ahead, running down the stairs, correcting his glasses on his nose, disappearing out the door.

She didn't feel like bringing him this fucking bar, but decided she didn't have the strength to stand up to him.

That's why she went to the vending machine standing in the corridor and, using the coins he'd given her, bought him as many bars as the money he'd given her was enough for.

She found him exactly where he always was at this hour, which was in the library.

She knew that he was solving equations not because it was a challenge for him, but because he was terribly bored. She pulled her fabric knapsack off her back and opened it, placing bar after bar on the table top where he sat.

"– I wanted one – are you mad? –"

"– give yourself one each day – you know how to count – have a nice day –"

"– do you have to be so fucking rude? –" He growled with a hint of malice, from which she turned to face him, feeling that for the first time in many years she had lost her temper.

"– take a look at yourself, you spiteful, spoilt brat –" She hissed and froze, wondering how she could have said such a thing, a hot feeling of shame and horror spreading through her stomach.

He stared at her with his lips clenched, furious, his nostrils twitching in an anxious, heavy breath.

She thought he was going to say something, humiliate her again, but they just looked at each other.

"– I – I'm sorry –" She mumbled and turned away, wanting to run away, to sink into the ground, to disappear.

She was sure he would be avoiding her now, telling everyone with amusement what a fucked up and stupid person she was, that she'd stalked him and then started yelling at him in the library.

She knew he commented on various people's behaviour in this way and she was sure he wouldn't spare her.

"– hi, nasty bar slut – what's up? –" He asked, walking up to her as she stood by the notice board, causing her to completely freeze.

"– please, don't call me a nasty slut –" She mumbled, looking at him with big eyes.

He shrugged his shoulders, correcting his glasses on his nose with his index finger, his gaze fixed on the sheets of paper on which the timetables were written.

"– fine – so? –"

She didn't understand what purpose this exchange of words was supposed to serve.

"– and what are you asking? –" She asked uncertainly and he shrugged his shoulders again.

"– I don't know –"

God.

"– are you still ashamed? –"

She swallowed hard, lowering her gaze to her feet, feeling her heart in her throat.

"– yes –"

"– why? –" He asked, as if he didn't understand what her condition was caused by. "– it was pleasant – finding a candy bar in my backpack pocket every day – unexpected – like magic with this dumb tooth fairy –"

She looked at him in disbelief, feeling a strange kind of warmth and relief spread across her chest. She pressed her lips together, adjusting the knapsack on her shoulders.

"– I saw how Oliver treated you – I think I just wanted to comfort you, but I couldn't speak to you like a normal human being –" She choked out finally, feeling that embarrassing sensation of a tightening in her gut again.

He snorted, correcting his glasses on his nose again.

"– sad bullshit is for poets – isn't it? –" He scoffed, still not looking at her, a mischievous grin on his lips.

She wasn't sure she understood him correctly, but it seemed to her that he was trying to tell her that he liked what she was doing in a way.

She shrugged her shoulders.

"– words have never come easily to me, although my head is full of them –"

"– right – I don't have a problem with talking, as long as someone doesn't start tendentious stories about their deep inner life – I don't give a shit, to be honest –"

He said, still avoiding eye contact. He scratched the back of his neck and rubbed the tip of his nose with the top of his hand, doing his best to look anywhere but at her.

"– it seems to me that you don't give a shit about a lot of things –" She stated finally and it was only when he heard this sentence that he looked at her, the intensity of the blue of his irises frightened her.

"– that's true – but that's who I am – I don't pretend to be anyone, unlike those rich losers who haven't earned anything themselves –" He hissed, and she nodded in agreement.

He hummed under his breath, pleased apparently to find in her a listener who didn't question his rather subjective, and therefore, in his mind, sincere judgements.

"– and you? – why do you behave in this way? –" He asked suddenly, and she blinked, feeling her whole body tense up at the urge in some primitive desire to protect herself.

"– what do you mean? –" She asked finally.

"– that whole crying thing of yours –" He said indifferently, once again correcting his glasses with his finger on his nose.

It seemed to her that he was treating her as an equation for which he lacked data, making it impossible for him to solve, much to his natural frustration as a scientist.

She thought she understood him.

"– I don't seem to feel alive – as if I'm a camera recording everything around me – when suddenly someone speaks to me as a person who should be experiencing and thinking something, I feel ashamed, as if someone has caught me in the act –" She choked out with difficulty, thinking in disbelief, terrified, that for the first time she had expressed in words what she was feeling.

She was more afraid than ever of hearing someone's response to what she had said.

He looked at her for a moment, furrowing his brow, as if analysing in his brain the details she had just provided him with.

"– you're lonely –" He stated finally, as if he had at last found a summary of what he thought of her. She pressed her lips together at his words, embarrassed that he had hit the nail on the head.

"– yes –"

"– me too – that's no reason to cry –" He said, shrugging his shoulders, sliding his hands into his trousers in some subconscious gesture of discomfort.

She nodded at his words, feeling her heart pounding hard in her chest.

"– so –" He began, looking at his shoe as if he saw something interesting on it. "– what now? –"

She swallowed hard, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

"– what are you asking? –"

"– me and you – are we mates now? –" He asked, and she involuntarily smiled sincerely for the first time in many years, feeling some pleasant warmth ripple through her lower abdomen.

"– yes –"

#michael gavey #michael gavey fanfiction #michael gavey fanfic #michael gavey fic #michael gavey angst #michael gavey x female #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x you #michael gavey fandom #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn fanfic #saltburn #ewan mitchell fanfiction #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewanverse #michael gavey x oc

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klaraslevi · 1 day

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Levi and his selfless nature deserves more, he cares, and he cares so much. The biggest mischaractertion of Levi is that he doesn't care about his comrades or that he only cares for one character, which is far from the truth and disrespectful to his actual character. He lost so many friends/comrades, and the gulit he probably feels for surviving is huge. Levi remembers all of them, he carries a burden and promises to avange them, to prove that their sacrifice had meaning.

One panel that I love is this one where he apologizes to Hange because he feels like their deaths were his fault, that he failed, and he couldn't save them. Levi felt like he let Hange down despite the situation not being his fault, and Hange wasn't mad at him at all, they understood that if he could've saved them, he would've.

This one hits on a different level, his empathy really comes through here. He feels gulity once more, realizing that the titans he has been killing were human all this time, I think this took a huge toll on him. Levi doesn't enjoy killing, he is a skilled soldier, that doesn't mean that he takes pleasure in it, it's his job and in his life he had to kill or he would be killed, he has no other choice. Levi values all life the same and to see him get reduced to someone who is selfish and cold, isn't fair to him.

#aot #aot levi ackerman #attack on titan #levi #levi ackerman #shingeki no kyojin #aot levi #levi aot #snk #aot manga #aot meta

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agarthanguide · 14 hours

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Forgive me if you’ve answered this already, but what is the timeline you work with for the CR character art? Do you do them all at once, or one at a time? I saw on the Dorian ask you mentioned the deliberation started long enough ago that Robbie didn’t know his brother died. Did you know they were going to a cold location? Or were the outfits designed for any weather? If you were to design their winter outfits now, would you do it any differently?

Your art is very cool! No pressure to answer all/any of these :)

Timeline varies WILDLY. The very first round, back before Bells Hells even premiered, was like 4 months out. But that took a lot more effort. Messing around and zeroing in on a thing. I can turn a character around in a week, as long as that character isn't that important to anyone. Like I know all guests love their characters, but Erika Ishii's first round took like three days (and then I heard about Yu, which took two weeks). Bordor scared the shit out of me because it was so effortless that I was worried that I either missed something or didn't know something.

I start them all at once, within reason. It's really important to get final designs (pre-rendered) to Ian, the mini painter. So one tries to work them in waves. Start as soon as you get the first brief, and then don't get too stuck on anyone. Try to keep a wide open mind so you don't accidentally railroad yourself. I have a tendency to freeze up at the render stage, because it requires a drastic change of style. So I will have to spend a day relearning how to color.

So yeah- no one told me they were going to a cold climate. They try to tell me what I need to know, but "need to know" is different for everyone. I've gotten clips of descriptions of what they are wearing, before, but generally it's just whatever they tell me directly! And no, I don't think I'd change anything too much if I knew they were going to Aeor. I enjoy a Seasonal Design as much as anyone, but only for like a one-shot (I'd love to do a holiday one shot with everyone in swim gear or christmas sweaters or whatever). But if they are going to be playing the main game in an outfit, I'd rather that outfit be iconic than specific.

Check out some Dorian gear concepts!

#my art #critical role #asks

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unoislazy · 2 days

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Flowers In Bloom

(Jiyan x Reader)

Wuthering Waves

Spoilers for Jiyan’s story quest.

(Some of this may be inaccurate, I’ll get better at figuring out his character as time goes on so bare with me for now)

The city of Jinzhou was never described as a quiet place, in fact many believed it to be quite the opposite. People were constantly around, tending to others, doing their jobs, or even just hanging out with friends. There was always something happening in Jinzhou.

So much so that at some points, the life of such a busy city could get pretty stifling. The feeling that one must always be going somewhere and doing something, it got in the way of remembering to relax. So that’s why you had always set out to take a moment to relax amongst the flowers near the Square Bell.

It was quite a solemn area, as it was there to honour those who had fallen in battle, but the respect for the area made it all the more peaceful. On one of your many trips to this area, you had noticed a plot of plants that you couldn’t identify. They looked to be like wheat or lavender, but it was clearly not one or the other.

You decided to pay it no mind as you continued your visits until you saw the sprout of one forming. It didn’t seem like it had been watered that day, so you decided to go out of your way and water it yourself. It felt nice, almost as if you were somehow helping tend to the fallen soldiers of the area… but you didn’t know why.

From then on it just simply became a habit. Any time you’d visit you’d water the ones that seemed like the needed to be watered and sit amongst the plants to watch the sunset. That was until one day you went to do your usual visit and you saw a man who you hadn’t seen before, admiring them as he stood on the pavement in front of the bell.

You bit your lip, wondering if you should say something to him. Maybe he knew more about the flowers than you did.

“They’re lovely, aren’t they?” You asked as you walked up to the man. He didn’t react physically but it was clear he had been a bit startled by your appearance before he relaxed.

“They are.” He responded, his expression softening the slightest bit as he looked over to you. His eyes traveled down to the water pail you held in your hands which caused a small smile to appear on his face; so small one would hardly even notice it if they weren’t looking for it.

You couldn’t help but stare at the man for a moment. He looked familiar but you couldn’t quite place exactly where you had seen him from, if at all. His clothing was no where near casual, and he seemed to be wearing pieces of armour, so no doubt he was helping fight.

Your eyes slowly made their way to his face. His eyes, while a beautiful golden colour, held a very far away look as if he was lost deep in the trenches of his own mind. His hair was a teal colour, which wasn’t exactly unusual but it was styled in a way you almost thought to be odd, but it looked good though so you weren’t complaining. As you continued to quickly look over the man, he snapped back out of his thoughts and turned back to you fully.

“Do you often come here to take care of the plants?” He asked, gesturing to the water pail in your hand. His words managed to snap you out of your thoughts as well as you looked down at your own hands, having forgotten you were even holding something to begin with.

“Oh! Yes, yes I do.” You exclaimed, trying to cover up the fact that you hadn’t been entirely paying attention. It was clear the man knew but he paid no mind to it.

“I saw a sprout that needed watering one day and decided to help out. I don’t even know how long ago that was at this point.” You thought to yourself, you had been doing this for a few months, maybe a little more.

“I was wondering how they were getting replenished so often. I must thank you for your commitment.” He said, looking away for a moment to survey the area, taking in the peace and quiet that the spot had to offer before turning back to you.

“So… I assume you come here a lot as well?” You asked, trying to strike up a conversation with the mysterious man. Had you seen him fully before you spoke to him, you might’ve been too scared to say anything. He looked to be such a strict and intimidating man and yet the feelings that surrounded him as you spoke were nothing but relaxed and gentle.

“When I have time.” He answered with a nod, gesturing for you to stand more beside him. You obliged and stood next to him, now looking over the city and the plants that swayed gently in the wind before the two of you.

“I take it you have friends who have fallen then, unless I am assuming too much.” You said, hoping your assumption wasn’t offensive in some way. The last thing you wanted was to anger this man, do a wave of nerves smacked you in the face while you waited for his reply. A melancholy look washed over the man’s face.

However, despite his saddened look, his smile remained on his face as he noticed your sudden change in demeanour. The question didn’t offend him by any means, so it was a little funny to him to see you back track as if it did.

“You are correct. In fact I’ve known many people who have ended up here, that’s why I planted these.” He said, turning his attention to the plants.

“I planted them in the hopes that if there is an afterlife, those who have fallen can look in at Jinzhou with these plants.” He explained, his gaze shifting to look up at the city that, like always, never seemed to rest for long. You looked over to him in surprise. Not only did he plant them but you also pieces together that he without a doubt had been fighting alongside a handful of these people.

“That’s a beautiful sentiment.” You responded, also looking back at the city, “I’m sure they enjoy the view.” You continued, a smile making its way onto your own face as you looked over at the sun. It had been a lot later in the day than you initially realized.

“While the plants are made to be resilient, I’m sure they appreciated your constant care.” The man mentioned, that same small smile having yet to leave his face. Despite his intimidating nature he seemed to be quite a nice man.

“I’m glad to have been of some help to them.” You responded quietly.

“Are you from Jinzhou ?” You asked, you might as well considering he didn’t seem to mind your conversation.

“I have moved around to many places as I grew up, but Jinzhou is where I seem to always come back to,” He answered in a more wistful manner before continuing. “Although it has been some time since I’ve been back, so I’m not sure what has changed exactly.”

You perked up at this as you looked over to him, your interest very clear on your face which caused the man a slight bit of confusion.

“So you haven’t been to the new restaurant that opened up?” You questioned. You were referring to a smaller business that not many people frequented given the fact that it had yet to gain the beloved reputation that the surrounding places had. However, you had gone one day to try it and loved it ever since.

The man shook his head, meeting your gaze with confusion as you seemed to become only more enthusiastic.

“We should go some time, I could show you where it is. I’m not sure exactly what your taste in food is, but I’m sure you’ll love it. They make a killer Jinzhou stew.” You claimed eagerly which quickly gained the interest of the man before you.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try, maybe we could go tomorrow… If you’re free that is.” He asked, almost hesitating through his sentence as he went through it. You simply smiled, your excitement having yet to die down before you nodded.

“That sounds like a great idea. We could meet here at the same time to make it easy.” You offered to which he nodded in return. You hadn’t really noticed but his smile had grown since your initial offer. It wasn’t exactly rare for him to smile, but it certainly wasn’t an expression he had all the time.

He looked to you before he looked up at the sky, realizing that the sun had long since set and the night sky was becoming more visible.

“I should get going, but I will see you here tomorrow, right?” He asked before beginning to walk off.

You nodded gleefully, excited to show off your favorite place to someone, not even realizing what had just happened. As the man turned away from you to walk off you looked over him again. The teal colours, the dragon scaled armour, the fact he’s been fighting for a time period you couldn’t even begin to imagine.

It finally hit you.

“That was General Jiyan…” You muttered absentmindedly, simply staring at the man as you finally pieces together who he was. This entire time you had been speaking with him so casually and yet he was the very well respected general that everyone and their mother has heard about.

And then the rest of the conversation finally caught up with you as well.

“And I just asked him on a date.” You muttered, completely lost as to how you managed to go this long without it clicking.

What you hadn’t realized though was that your revealation had been heard by the man himself, earning a stifled chuckle from him as he walked off.

#x reader #unoislazy #fanfiction #jiyan x reader #jiyan #wuwa jiyan #jiyan wuthering waves #jiyan x you #wuwa x reader #wuwa official #wuwa #wuwa spoilers #wuwa fanfic #fanfic #x gender neutral reader #x reader fanfiction #fluff #jiyan x rover #jiyan x gender neutral reader

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jess-the-vampire · 1 day

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Happy Arborgeist Day/ Hurl'ullack!

Checked out the storyboard for another deleted s1 episode "No Tree Left Behind"

You can read it here:

An episode about boiling isles holidays and traditions? interlaced with eda and lilith's sister drama? This one was actually pretty interesting, and got me even a little sad, despite it absolutely being non canon now.

Thoughts on the cut episode below:

Honestly this board really serves to remind me we didn't get to know a ton about the actual culture of the Boiling isles, like we kinda get to know the stuff witches do on the isles, what they eat, and the everyday stuff they get into....but not so much about it's culture. You can kinda chalk that up to belos a little but this boarded episode was basically about keeping tradition and making new memories, even in spite of change, so it more or less feels like the crew either didn't have time for this or had other things to focus on.

So the culture of the island is a lot more in the background in the actual series as it keeps it's focus more on the characters dealing with their personal issues and with the conflict at hand.

Speaking of which, despite belos being the bad guy for his hatred and fear of witches, can't deny....the culture of the isles is quite disturbing at times that i can understand that not all humans are gonna have luz's extreme acceptance. Like king's holiday is primarily the celebration of demon overlords and is very casual about maiming others to present to the deity when talking about it. If the isles was a real place i think most humans would be a bit disturbed.

Anyways, king's part of the episode, while funny at times, is the least interesting of the two, the real emotional core is the A plot with eda and luz.

(I did think the scene with willow and gus was fun tho)

There is one scene where i think another demon calls king insensitive for putting the wrong bloodthirsty battle painting of demon history on display and king being like "Tomatoes, tomatoes, it's all the same and not a big deal", and the guy gets SUPER offended and i don't know how to take this scene.

Eda is such a menace during the holidays my god

Luz trying to tell Eda it's ok if her celebration tree is gone because she and her mama celebrated all holidays even if it wasn't on the correct day, and it was more about family in the end then the tree itself.

Only for it to be revealed this tree meant so much to eda because it reminded her of the days she and her sister got along is actually pretty heartbreaking.

Even Lilith, who, despite threatening luz's life to get her way, still has a moment of sadness for the fallen tree you can really feel from the panels. It's really good.

We get some moments for both the construction coven and the plant coven, though the construction coven acts more like.....an actual construction team.

The plant coven members being old guys had some fun jokes tho, think it's cute one wanted to intern willow at the end.

Also kiki cameo.

I know this is a canned episode, but i'm a bit glad we don't have an episode where some of the jokes are about eda telling luz their holiday traditions involve them all being naked and dancing around a tree, this....would of been taken a weird way.

also witches might be able to remove their SKIN??????!!!!

Also this board just remined me how inconvenient it really is that the coven guards don't have palisman, like eda just.....easily flies away from them and they can't catch up to her. Like this is an incredibly bad security system if your trained guards can't even fly up and chase after criminals, like my god.

One reason for sure you know this is basically non canon is apparently the tree in question, the Arborgeist. Is the tree that eda made her staff from, and there's only 10 of these on the entire isles that i assume supply all the palisman.

Basically, these were the proto palistrom trees.

I can kinda see why this was changed, like even if we take it that belos is cutting them down for his palisman eating, this would just raise the question why he's doing it NOW of all times. But on top of that, these rare trees that apparently only show up once per generation all being cut down at once feels like the kinda thing that would REALLY tick off the isles, especially if all palisman are being supplied by it.

Having the trees just be a normal thing that was depleting due to his consumption makes both him seem less suspicious, and the witches seem less dumb for just being....ok that they're not going to make staffs anymore.

It's implied they don't protest mostly out of fear, but still.

Also belos's, i assume fake, reasoning for chopping down the trees is apparently "We can't have you people celebrating non-coven holidays" and it's just, it's so petty.

granted, it's much more meaningful to actually SEE the tree being cut then having it be stated offscreen like in the show. Like even the resolution to this episode, as in, finding a sapling they plant, is still an offscreen thing in the final series. Where they just talk about replanting trees.

And of course, we gotta have a dance party ending, tho i do think the last scene tying back to the tale eda told about the holiday is very cute.

So it seems a lot of elements of this episode were more split between multiple episodes.

Still, a pretty decent episode, moreso for the main plot but the boards do great at really making you feel for eda and lilith despite it not even being animated.

#my art #the owl house #toh #eda clawthorne #eda the owl lady #luz noceda

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enassbraid · 1 day

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UNEXPECTED LOVERBOY

-> in which you overhear your calm and secretive boyfriend gushing over you like there’s no tomorrow (1.1k wc)

Cw) gn!reader, manga characters (no spoilers), sakura still malfunctions when it comes to romance topics

Calling Hayato Suo an enigma would be an understatement.

Not a soul knows what lies under that eye patch. He’s calm, collected, and composed at almost all times, but it was a task of its own to grasp why. It’s impossible to catch him eating anything other than teacakes, and he often replaces his meals with a hot cup of tea. He claims to be on a diet, but every diet needs some protein incorporated into it.

Everything there is to know about Suo can be followed up with the same question: “Why?” and “What?”

However, there was an exception to his mysterious nature: You.

Of course, you didn’t know that. Hell, even Suo failed to notice his quite obvious soft spot for you until now. But as Nirei’s eye glittered with joy as he scribbled new notes onto Suo’s page in his notebook, and Sakura’s pupils shrunk with his cheeks flaunting a new shade of red, everyone knew.

Hayato Suo’s in love.

“(Name’s) a beauty, really. They may be rough around the edges at times, but I’ve never met anyone with a soul like theirs,” he babbled uncharacteristically.

He brought his teacup to his lips with closed eyes, missing the baffled expressions on everyone’s faces. But the moment he opened them, he couldn’t help but quirk a brow. “What’s with the shocked faces?”

Umemiya coughed into his hand graciously. “We’re just a little surprised, that’s all,” he began, too immersed in the conversation to notice you entering Kotoha’s cafe. “It’s not often you ramble like this.”

“I didn’t know Suo could be so open about his feelings,” Nirei exclaimed with a smile. “You must reallyyyy like (Name), huh?” he questioned, holding his pen in one hand and notebook in another as if this were an interview.

Suo’s head tilted. “Of course I do, that’s why I’m dating them.”

“You’ve been rambling on and on about (Name) for almost 10 minutes, it’s gross,” Sakura grumbled with flushed cheeks.

“But we wanna hear more! Keep going,” Nirei added.

Everyone looked at Suo attentively, including you. Somehow, the group failed to hear the bell chime when you entered the cafe. You’re clueless as to what’s going on, but it didn’t take a genius to realize it had something to do with you considering the amount of times your name was thrown around.

“My, if you insist,” Suo chuckled. “But I fear I’ve already said it all, unless I forgot to mention how cute it is when their cheeks puff up when they’re annoyed?”

Sakura held his head in his hands in fear that it’d melt off with how hot his face felt. “No, you didn’t. But we get it! You love (Name)!” he shouted.

“They’re impossible not to love,” Suo commented with his usual calm smile.

“That’s just Sakura’s romance sensor going haywire,” Kiryu teased. “Don’t mind him.”

The split-haired boy sulked in his seat, trying to dismiss the heat he felt on his face. “You’re all so…”

His voice trailed off, catching a glimpse of your frame standing behind Suo.

“Su-“

“Trust me, if you were in my shoes you’d be doing the same thing. (Name’s) one of a kind, not to mention beautiful. I can’t imagine a life without them, honestly.” The brunette went on, unbeknownst of your looming presence behind him. “Anyone can fall in love if their heart is stolen.”

“Someone like Suo being so head over heels in love… it must feel like a fairytale for (Name),” Umemiya chimed.

“Oh trust me, it does.”

Everyone’s heads turned to face you, except Sakura, who had noticed you seconds prior.

“(Name)?!”

“I didn’t know I could be such a fun subject of conversation, Hayato.” you teased, hands resting on your boyfriend’s shoulders as you leaned down to his ear.

He gulped, hiding his flustered heart through his relaxed exterior.

“We were just talking about you!” Nirei said happily. “Is it true? That Suo never lets you hold doors open, and holds them open for you? Or that he gave you his umbrella when it was pouring rain because he’d rather get soaked than risk you getting sick?” Oh! What about-“

The boy in question sat in silence, allowing Nirei to ask his heart away to confirm that this wasn’t one of his absurd lies.

You nodded at the blonde. “Yes, yes, yes, and yes. Except he technically kept the umbrella- he just held it over me so my hands wouldn’t get cold,” you corrected, recalling the awful weather of that day.

“What a romantic~” Tsubaki swooned.

“I try my best,” Suo smiled shyly.

“Suo never talks about his life! This is the most he’s ever told us, (Name)! Does he talk to you about his personal life?” Nirei inquired politely, trying not to make you feel pressured into answering.

You thought for a moment. For one, you felt honored that Suo didn’t wanna keep your relationship a secret like the rest of his life. But the blonde’s question made you realize something yourself- you really didn’t know much about your boyfriend’s personal life.

“Well… what can I say? He’s a mystery to everyone, including me.” you replied unsurely, glancing at Suo from the corner of your eye.

“Interesting…”

Nirei wrote something down in his notebook, and you didn’t bother looking. Instead, you held eye contact with Suo. He didn’t have to speak for you to know what he was thinking.

He wasn’t hiding anything from you. He just didn’t like talking about his past, and you understood.

“My love, you know more about me than anyone else in this room,” he stood after finishing the contents of his teacup. “After all, you were the one who told me to take baby steps, correct?”

You vaguely recalled those words. It was weeks ago, but he felt guilty for not telling you or anyone else about his history. In response, you told him to take as long as he needed, and baby steps were always the first steps.

“I did,” you affirmed. Your voice was soft, but it didn’t hide your intentions of making his heart pound a little harder. “But I didn’t think I'd catch you gushing over me like you’ve lost your composure~”

Suo almost broke, and you laughed.

“Woah, is Suo blushing?”

“Who could blame the guy? It’s the most open he’s been with us,” Hiragi commented with truth.

Kotoha giggled from behind the counter. “Not to mention how close (Name) is to him right now, it might be too much for the poor boy to handle.”

The red in Suo’s cheeks slowly faded, and he let out a small sigh. “I’ll see you all later, we’re gonna get going now,” he waved.

The two of you walked out hand in hand, and everyone else was left either baffled, confused, or unphased. Unless it was Sakura, who was somehow all three.

Little did you know, Nirei left a small comment on the corner of Suo’s page in his notebook.

‘Quite the loverboy.’

#wind breaker #windbreaker #windbre #wind breaker x reader #windbreaker x reader #windbre x reader #windbreaker fluff #suo hayato #suou hayato #suo x reader #suo hayato x reader #suo fluff #dor writes

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saleeba · 2 days

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subha hone na de ; jude bellingham

summary ♡ alexa play moonlight by twice :D

pairing ♡ jude bellingham x south asian/brown!fem!reader

content ♡ fluff, fiancé!jude, asian wedding shenanigans, jude in a black kurta (brown ppl will know that this is a trope in itself 😌), y/c/n = your cousin's name, lovergirl!reader, the moon as a symbol of beauty, tiny social media au at the end, bollywood fans this one's for u !! 🗣🗣

a/n ♡ ahhhh my first brown girl reader fic & i’m so excited for u all to read it 🥰🥰 the reason i used both south asian and brown as descriptors for the reader is bc i wanted to include the girlies of the diaspora like the caribbean/fiji/south africa/south east asia etc & tbh i wasn’t sure if any person of south asian descent preferred to describe themselves as either ‘south asian’ or as ‘brown’ !! also pls note that this is a very broad & non-specific portrayal of a person from “south asian culture” - that is to say that bc south asia is made up of numerous ethnicities, religions, cultures etc i don’t want to show disrespect by lumping them all together nor do i intend the reader to be from a certain south asian background! i tried to keep it as “general” (?) as possible esp when it came to the clothing but pls let me know if u would like to see elements of a specific culture or religion in a future south asian/brown!reader fic !! ALSO oml ik my a/ns are always so long 😭 but the title is a reference to one of my fav bollywood songs <3 it’s an absolute BANGER & it translates to “let there be no morning/don’t allow the dawn to arrive” which i think ties in nicely to this fic :D pls enjoy & lmk what u think!!! 🫶🏽💛

—

“alright… how do i look, babe?” your fiancé asks, emerging from the bedroom into the ensuite where you’re placing the finishing touches to your simple makeup look as he pats down the black sequinned kurta you’ve picked out for your cousin’s at-home henna ceremony tonight. his personal choice to pair it with a golden necklace and a watch to match makes the whole look pop against the summer-tanned tone of his skin.

you’re careful not to blind yourself with the eyeliner in your hand once you catch even the smallest glimpse of him in the mirror. it’s safe to say that if you were a cartoon character, there’d be hearts protruding from your eyeballs, all pink and comically large.

“you look amazing, jude, so handsome,” you beam at him, genuinely in awe of how good he looks in your culture’s clothing, not that it’s the first time you’ve seen jude wearing such a thing. over the years that the two of you have been dating, you’ve introduced him to so many facets of your heritage, sharing parts of yourself that were inseparably you – and jude has embraced and immersed himself in everything like he was born into that same culture.

your fiancé smiles right back at you before replying. “have to make sure i look good in front of my wife’s family now, don’t i?”

you struggle to stifle the schoolgirl-like giggle that racks through your chest at his words, still not able to be used to the word ‘wife’ coming out of jude’s mouth while referring to you, despite you not even being that yet. truth be told, it’s almost been a month since jude proposed and although you both agreed to wait for some time before telling fans and the media, he’s been calling you his wife around friends and family ever since he got down on one knee, resulting in your bashful smile and blushing cheeks becoming the subject of their teasing every time.

“true, yeah, can’t have the aunties gossiping about how you have zero drip.”

your joking is met with a childish sticking out of jude’s tongue before he’s shooed out of the bathroom, leaving you to complete your makeup and don the black and gold outfit that matches jude’s for tonight.

***

your cousin had told everyone that she wanted a very lowkey and relaxed henna function, especially since weddings from your culture tend to be incredibly busy—almost chaotically so—and she has the opportunity of her other nuptial ceremonies to go all out anyway, hence tonight’s dress code being as equally relaxed and minimal. in spite of all that, you’ve taught jude that celebrations in your culture and the word ‘lowkey’ are nothing but oxymorons of each other so he isn’t surprised when you both walk in to see the bridal home all decked out in bright lights and flower garlands the colours of a vivid spring and ten times the guests he was anticipating to see all bumbling about the place. what does surprise jude is when you inform him that you’ve been appointed as a “chief henna artist” (in the words of the bride) last minute so now he’s been abandoned; left to the mercy of your relatives who haven’t seen him for all of three months and so decide to hound him with every question under the sun.

“tell us how it was winning the champions league, jude!”

“jude, any plans for the wedding yet?”

“uncle jude, come play in the garden with us! please, uncle jude, please!

“is it true mbappé’s going to madrid? do you have his number?!”

“ooh, can you give me mbappé’s number?!”

jude fights the urge to jet past everyone and run out the front door screaming and flailing his arms, the blaring music and onslaught of inquiries getting to him, and instead peeks over the heads of the crowd around him to try and silently get your attention because as much as he loves your family, he’s praying you can be his knight in shining black and gold to save him from their unwarranted fixation right now. Unfortunately, he’s met with the sight of you fully concentrated on working on your cousin’s bridal henna, having teamed up with another cousin to meticulously draw intricate patterns across her arms and feet. oh, he’s going to have to get comfortable with the company of your relatives for at least the next three hours then.

***

those three hours turn into five by the time jude is done having a kickabout in the garden with your younger family members, detailing the night his club were champions of europe once again and politely declining the chance to leak the kylian mbappé’s phone number to your niece. not that he’s at his wits’ end (he kind of really is) but jude thinks he’d do good to be in your company as the clock tolls eleven so he opts out of another game of footy to go and look for you, much to the amusement of your relatives who lightheartedly taunt him about the way he can’t stay away from his fiancée for even a short while.

passing into the living room once again, jude finds you right where he left you but this time, it’s your henna that’s being painted onto the palms of your hands, the design so complex and elaborate that some of the already-dried parts look richly brick-ish red against your skin tone. under the twinkling fairy lights and waves of marigold flowers, jude can’t help but imagine it’s your nuptials being celebrated here; sitting so prettily like you’re what everyone came here to see and honestly? he can’t wait until it’s time for you to be just that.

“hi, again. remember me?” he jests, taking a seat on the floor cushion next to where you’re sat with your arms sprawled out as your cousin decorates them with muddy green paste.

“hmm, remind me who you are again?” you feign a confused look.

“ouch. is that ring on your finger not good enough of a reminder, mrs bellingham?”

“nope, the diamond’s too small.”

“oi!”

the laughter that erupts from the both of you even has your cousin joining in, jude breaking the giggle fits to ask an all-important question.

“have you eaten yet? you’ve been sat here the whole night doing this.”

shaking your head, you gesture towards the now empty bottle of water sitting by your feet that you’d been rationing throughout the evening and tell him that's all you’ve been filling your stomach with, way too busy with doing the bride’s henna then an aunty’s then a cousin’s then another aunty and then the next after that to even move from your spot in the lounge.

jude determines that that won’t do and offers to make you a plate of food that your elders had just topped up the buffet table with. you comply and ask him to get enough food for you to share.

between mouthfuls and munching of samosas—jude doing the super important job of biting the corner of a samosa and blowing the savoury pastry cool enough for you to take a bite—and sweetmeats, your cousin works hard at completing the henna art on your left hand, and there’s just the matter of a couple of fingers left before she utters a heartfelt apology and comments that her hand is about to cramp from holding cones of henna for so long.

“that’s okay! go grab a break and then if you’re still up for it, you can finish it later,” you say sincerely, encouraging her to go hang out with other parts of the family before she loses her mind in swirls and paisley patterns like you nearly have. “or i can always get someone else to do it!”

“can i have a go?”

the way jude pipes up, mouth stuffed with chocolate barfi like a child who's just found the cookie jar, has you and your cousin whipping your heads towards him and then at each other, sharing the slightest of sceptical looks.

“oh god, will we need to get the stencils out for him, y/n?” your cousin japes – well, she believes she is but the thought of her painstaking work being destroyed by a guy who, although creates art with a football, cannot draw anything further than a stick person makes her nervous, to say the least.

“hey!” jude wants to advocate for his art skills right here, right now. “i’ve been watching you do it all just now, i’ll just copy the exact same thing for the last two fingers, right?”

you pipe in as his supporting act. “he makes a very good case, your honour.”

your cousin surrenders to the pair of you, essentially fleeing the scene with mutters of ��better not mess it up, bellingham” and you both know she’s deadly serious.

“still not too late to get the stencils, y’know?” you watch as your fiancé struggles with holding the henna cone correctly.

“no, no, i’ve got this, babe,” he remarks before almost smudging the still-wet design on your palm with his fingers. “oh shit!”

“jude!”

your heart nearly jumps out of your mouth at the sight.

“It’s fine, love, see!” jude points to an edge that’s ever so slightly smudged from the commotion. “all good. now, close your eyes.”

“you’re joking!” you squeak out incredulously, fearful of whatever is going on in that mad mind of his. you do not want to face the wrath of your cousin on a night that’s going so well.

“please, babe!” your grown fiancé looks like a kid trying to prove himself to his mum right now with the way his already puppy-dog eyes grow wider. “i promise it’ll look good, just… close your eyes, please?”

“ok, fine!” trying not to let reluctance get in the way, you’re now the one surrendering to jude’s request as your eyes close without any further argument.. “i’m telling y/c/n to kill you and not me if this doesn’t go to plan.”

a small chuckle is the only thing you can hear from jude before he gets to work, spending more minutes than you can count on your henna-adorned fingers as he drags the cool paint over your digits, questions of whether you can open your eyes yet meet with shushes and oftentimes you hear yourself hissing when jude tugs your skin with the pointed tip of the cone instead of hovering slightly above with it.

“aaand we’re done! you have my permission to open your eyes.” as soon as you do, you’re met with the sight of a very smug, very excited jude bellingham who gestures towards your left hand where… wow, the design is beautiful. it’s the tiniest bit clumsy, just where the lines are supposed to be straight, but it mirrors exactly what your cousin had painted on your right hand, the pattern set in its curls and dots and spirals.

“i did a little something extra, too. i hope y/c/n doesn’t mind but i think you’ll like it.”

“yeah? you’re gonna have to help me find it then, babe,” you say, already scanning over the artwork he’s created to try and find what mystery he’s left behind.

“actually, that’s supposed to be your job.” your fiancé replies, his smile a little more bashful and voice a little softer. “it’s my name, i wrote it in there for you to find—”

“really?! where?!” you ask albeit rhetorically as your eyes now frantically run all over your left hand in search of where jude has inscribed his own name.

a few seconds pass before they do a double-take over where your engagement ring sits on your finger, just there, just to the right of it along the crook of where your finger meets the back of your palm. there is it — the print so whimsically curled and sweetly small that it looks like it fits right in with the rest of the henna design. jude.

“where did you learn all this?” you’re tearing up just the slightest over it all, glad no one is within earshot of you two for you would’ve been teased to no end tonight.

your fiancé shrugs nonchalantly at your question before explaining everything. “i did some research after proposing and read about it. i know, originally, you’re supposed to be the one that knows and i’m the one that looks for it but i thought this would be cute.”

“it was cute— so cute,” you beam across at jude, the hearts in your eyes back again over how willing he is to throw himself into your cultural traditions and quirks, even learning things unprompted and without your encouragement. you thank your lucky stars that you found yourself a life partner who’s so unabashed in not just learning about your heritage but incorporating it into your lives. in a way, he’s been healing that little girl who grew up ashamed and embarrassed of her culture, wishing she was someone else, something else, and helping her become a woman who proudly wears it without giving anyone else ownership.

a chorus of “uncle jude! uncle jude!” rings through the living room as your younger relatives, all pumped up on sugar at around midnight (oh well, it is the time for festivities anyway), run in, dragging your fiancé away from you before you two can exchange any more words. you settle with a shared knowing look and smile, leaving you to get your henna dried and jude to commence round 2 of another football match.

***

there are only so many probing questions from aunties and uncles and instances of your cousin bitching about her situationship that you can take as your henna dries in, what are now, two makeshift cling-film casts to help strengthen the colour before you’re bothered by the lack of jude by your side as the clock tolls just past two in the morning. after sifting through possibly the entire family tree dotted throughout the house, you’re directed by an uncle to the balcony where jude’s standing hunched over the railing, gazing into the sky where the moon illuminates the earth, peeking from behind a sliver of cloud dust.

“hey, you,” you speak softly so as not to startle the peaceful moment that’s now given you a break from the hubbub inside.

jude whips his head towards the voice, instantly grinning at the sight of you, so beautiful in the moonshine, before extending an arm to pull you into his side.

“i see the moon’s out tonight,” you muse, not taking your eyes off him one bit as he continues to stare up into the sky.

“looks beautiful, right?”

“yeah, he does.” you daren’t unlock your gaze from the way jude glows in the moonlight, the cool tone sitting over his skin and bringing more attention to the bridge of his nose and the highest points of his cheekbones. oh, how you want to spend the rest of the night laying kisses across them.

“he? oh—” he turns to find your pretty eyes, lit equally as bright by the natural light, not even having budged an inch from his face as he realises you’re not talking about that moon. “shut up!”

you laugh as he blushes like a smitten teenage boy, a sight not too unfamiliar since that’s exactly what he was when the two of you started dating.

“what, can’t a girl be romantic with her husband?” you act out a sweet pout, the sight and your words making jude’s heart skip a beat or three.

“you are so lucky your family isn’t here to take the piss.”

another set of giggles from the pair of you as you cuddle into jude’s side, both now facing the moon that you swear is shining way brighter than before, the cloud in front of it nearly dissipating into non-existence.

“i love you, mrs bellingham,” jude breaks the serene silence. “i can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” he places the gentlest of kisses on your ring finger, lips ghosting just over the cling-film-covered diamond ring. the scene would’ve been amusing had it not been for the tender romance of the moment, a few minutes to get away from the beloved chaos of family celebrations and to pretend the whole world rotated on its axis, served its purpose, for only jude and you.

“i love you, too. so much, jude.”

you sigh into the warming summer air, silently asking the sun to rise a little later so that you can fawn over your lover's features in the moonlight for as much time as you wanted.

—

yourusername • 18h

liked by judebellingham and others

yourusername celebrating love with my love 💒

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judebellingham can’t wait for our turn 💍❤️

↳ yourusername ilysm 🥹❤

user1 THE LAST PIC????????? RUE,,,, WHEN WAS THIS????

user2 🥳🥳🥳CONGRATULATIONSSS🥳🥳🥳 (i’m gatecrashing the wedding)

trentalexanderarnold best man position still vacant? 🫣

↳ jobebellingham unfortunately no 🙄

user3 we need the proposal story asap!!!

↳ user4 and a whole album worth’s of pictures too !!!!!

#me when the black kurta-wearing baddie tells me to do smth: 🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡#this exact post has been festering in my drafts since nov 2023 pleaseeee #real ones will remember this was supposed to be a smut lmao i’m so glad i went down this routine instead!!! <33 #i do have to say that it’s sooo hard finding non “north indian/pakistani” inspo pics on pinterest even if u do search for specific cultures #+ dark skinned south asian content is basically non existent which makes me sooo frustrated so im so sorry for the rlly limited visuals :((#jude bellingham #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x fem!reader #jude bellingham x south asian reader #football imagine #footballer imagine #footballer fluff #football smau

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suuooe · 1 day

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-- Touch deprived boys

✧ or: touch- or not so touch deprived wind breaker boys ✧ featuring: Sakura Haruka, Suo Hayato, Umemiya Hajime, Hiragi Toma & Kaji Ren x gn!reader [separate] ✧ content: established relationship & fluff ✧ a/n: i dropped one suo fic and got busy the same week and fell ill the next week lmfao. hiragi may be a bit ooc - ya know when you know how the characters act and how they are in theory, but can't articulate that in your works? yeah. yeah. this is not proofread we post this without beta-reading like real men.

Sakura doesn't register the feeling at first. To be more precise, he doesn't know what the feeling is at all when it first appears.

I imagine Sakura having a significant other that's the polar opposite to him when it comes to physical touch - as in they would 100% at any given moment when they're together hold any part of Sakura that they come in contact with. (This boy cannot for the life of him shake off anyone he deems close away, grab his hand and lead him on and he will 100% complain the entire way, but he'll never shake off your hand)

Which means that ever since he did start to date you, he wouldn't even know the meaning of what touch deprivation even is - because not a day goes by when you're not touching him some part of him.

So when a day actually comes when you're not holding onto him, he feels genuinely put off. Something is wrong, but he can't put his finger on it. And oh boy does that clearly show on his face. Sakura is after all - an open book when it comes to his feelings.

He's moody, he doesn't snap and yell like usual - but he only mutters answers back whenever someone asks him something. Even to you - if anything, you would think he's mad at you. He's fidgeting with his hands, tugging at his sleeves and averting his gaze from you whenever you ask if he's okay.

He's an open book yeah, but he won't say a damn thing - pride and all.

It'll most likely be in a scenario where you're surrounded by more people than usual that you hold back a bit on showing affection. But still, you're mostly by his side, talking to him, handing him drinks and heck your shoulders brush against each other every time you laugh at something his classmate had said - you're that close to him.

And yet it feels wrong.

"Oh, Haruka your drink is empty. Want me to go grab another one?" you're not even waiting for an answer before you lean away from the wall behind you to head towards the refreshments table on the other side of the rooftop.

It's only when your presence once again leaves his side that Sakura springs into action, reaching out to barely grasp the fabric of your shirt to hold you slightly back. Puzzled, you turn around with a confused smile, only to be met with an equally confused, but frantic stare from your lover. "Everything okay, Haruka?" you ask again, ignoring the fact that Haruka's gaze is looking all over the place but at your own face.

"Y-yeah, why wouldn't it be?" although he says that, his hand is still grasping onto your shirt. A few seconds go by in silence before you feel a slight tug against them - and suddenly every dot in your confused brain starts to connect on his bizarre behaviour today.

Your eyes soften, and Sakura can hear your quiet chuckle when you turn around to face him, forcing his fingers to let go. But before he can ask what you're laughing about, he can feel himself being pulled into a hug, and he can feel your smile against his shoulders as you pat his back comfortably. "You're so cute, Haruka." he can hear you say through your quiet giggles.

You can hear a quiet "Shut up…" from him, but you can feel the way his posture drastically softens under your hug. But before your duo-coloured lover could wrap his arms around your waist, you hear a low whistle coming from behind you. "Naaw, Sakura-kun was missing [Name]'s touch for the day."

And in an instant you're yanked (gently) away by an arms length with Sakura yelling profanities at a laughing Suo. Well at least he's back to normal.

Suo's never "deprived" per say of your touch - because he's the one initiating it 90% of the time.

He's already physically affectionate. He's usually seen having an arm around your waist when you're peering at something, holding your hand when the two of you go for a walk or leaning over you when you're standing still to rest his chin on top of your head (if you're shorter, if not he'll bury his face into the crook of your neck).

And while you don't mind (in fact often times you lean most of your weight on him if he's standing behind you once you feel his presence) Suo does want you to initiate contact once in a while.

But alas those feelings is rarely shown on his face, always sporting a neutral smile to any situation he's put in - no one can tell that he's a bit more troubled than usual.

But what kind of lover would you be, if you weren't able to spot these miniscule changes in Suo? When he now only briefly holds onto your waist to silently announce his presence beside you before retracting his arm back and when he waits for your fingers to graze against his own before he tangles them together?

You do notice, and Suo also knows you've noticed the slight difference in your otherwise normal habits. How you peer up at him a bit longer than usual when he decides to sit next to you in the library instead of behind you like he usually does so you can rest against him. But he only gives you a wide smile in return to your confused glance.

"You know-" you say with a start, seating yourself down on Suo's lap the moment he seats himself down properly on the tatami floor of his room, your lover only wrapping an arm around your back to make sure you don't topple over. "This is a very elaborate way to tell me you want me to initiate physical contact more often."

"Hmm? Whatever do you mean?" he feigns ignorance, merely tilting his head slightly to the side when you twirl your fingers around the tassels of his left earring whilst resting your head against his shoulder. "Why can't you just ask like any other person for a hug or something?" you question.

"That wouldn't be fun. I wanted to see if you loved the physical touch as much as me, after all." he says, and you raise your eyebrow in confusion, "Me not reciprocating your touches was not an answer?" you inquire, raising your head to stare at him, Suo only giving you a smile that seems a bit too mischievous back while shaking his head.

"Initiating and reciprocating are two different things, dear. Initiating takes a lot more courage after all." you only hum in return, resting your head back on his shoulder before taking a hold of his hand to toy with his fingers, bending the appendages while admiring how smooth his skin was - even with all the fighting he does. "I like it when you initiate contact first though…" you murmur in the end. Suo, who had initially thought you had put the matter of his impromptu idea to the side hums in surprise at your quiet confession.

"Why?"

You shrug, deciding to intertwine your fingers together before resting them on your own lap, smiling softly at how Suo's thumb brush against the skin of your hand. "I don't know either. I just know that it's you whenever someone takes a hold of my hand, you do have the habit of grazing your fingers against mine before holding them after all. It's almost like your way of saying hello before we even make eye contact." you tell, "You always reach out for my hand first after all."

You're not staring at him, still busy looking at your clasped hands - but he still smiles down at your form, turning his head to press his lips on top of your head. "Well with such a sweet reason, who am I to not initiate it more then, hmm?"

He makes it known that he wants your touch before you can even tell he's deprived.

Which means he's never deprived, because when Umemiya feels that he needs a hug, he's making a beeline towards you to engulf you in his arms.

Which means there are two outcomes to this. If you're within his sights and he sees you as soon as he wants a hug, everything is A-OK! Umemiya gets his well needed hug to tackle the next set of duties and tasks he has set for himself for the next 3 hours.

If you're not in his arms within the next 10 minutes of him wanting a hug, he's going to talk to his plants like you've gone off to war and won't come back before the next year. Talking about how much he misses your presence, your favourite food, what kind of seed you would probably prefer, how he's found a new book that you love. At this point feel sorry for the person that has to sit through those 10 minutes of constant love declarations. (Hiragi)

And yes, Hiragi has you on speed dial because of this. It does not matter that you've recently been up on the rooftop spending time with him, it does not matter if you've just gone downtown to get some drinks - Hiragi does not get paid enough for this and he will personally escort you back to Bofurin's leader to make him shut up.

You better clear your schedule for the next hour because Umemiya will have you in his arms before making sure you're well fed and spend time with you. He doesn't necessarily have to constantly touch you then - if he can see you within his vision he's already beaming brighter than the sun in the sky.

"Hajime, you're about to squeeze my entire air supply out." you manage to wheeze out while laughing, Umemiya merely burying his face further into your hair while swinging you back and forth in the air.

"You could've told me that you were going to go shop for groceries for Kotoha! I would've helped." he exclaimed whilst putting your down on the ground again, though his arms were still snugly wrapped around your waist and still keeping you pressed against his front. Your own arms around his back when you noticed that he wouldn't budge from this position anytime soon.

"Last time you helped out, you crushed 2 dozens eggs remember? The townsfolk love you too much too, we would've needed more hands if you came along because of the amount of freebies they would give you. Besides she just wanted a few things and I was already out when she asked where I was, so it wasn't too much trouble to make another round through the town." you replied, stepping side to side while pushing yourself against Umemiya, a silent request for him to move backwards towards the wooden canopy so you both could sit down.

Once seated, you find yourself placed on top of Umemiya's lap with his arms still snugly wrapped around your waist, securing your body close to his own when you lean backwards to properly look at him while talking. At this point Umemiya has gone off tangent, eyes brimming with excitement over what had happened on the day you had mentioned the crushed eggs, only stopping his tangent when you bring a handkerchief up to his face to wipe away the dirt.

"… How long have you been in that position?" an exasperated gruff voice questions, and both you and Umemiya turn over to the entrance of the rooftop to see Hiragi leaning against the door.

"Hiragi! You want some water? Maybe some onigiri? Oh right, [Name] had also picked up some snacks!"

"It's been 15 minutes."

"Good grief, Umemiya, let [Name] go aleady, they're not your personal teddy bear."

Hiragi in general is not a physically affectionate person. He doesn't mind it, softens quite a bit when you grasp his hand whenever you join his group when they patrol the town and relaxes his posture while sinking further down the slope of the couch so that you can rest your head on his shoulder - even if the posture itself causes him a bit of discomfort after.

He's quite content just having you walk by his side - as long as he can see you from his peripheral vision or heck, just hear your voice speak from beside him or behind him, he's content.

He does however have his moments. Although it's incredibly hard to spot because Hiragi himself doesn't mind going days without getting a kiss even.

And even when you do initiate the first touch, he handles you like a porcelain doll - almost afraid you will break. You can hug him as tight as you can, he'll laugh and say he's not going to disappear anytime soon, but the hug you receive back is so gentle and full of love it almost brings you to tears alone.

Hiragi is aware of his position within Bofurin, and the fact that his name carries a lot of weight and is known beyond the town - as such he initiates the most contact when you're alone. And even that is a rare occurrence being that you're both busy most of the time.

As such, even though it's rare - Hiragi will show subtle signs that he wants to cradle you within his arms or hold your hand. A gentler gaze when he addresses you - a more carefree grin when you open your arms wide waiting for him to come to you, but even you can see the slight hesitation.

All in all, Hiragi is quite content and rarely gets touch deprived, but no one is immune to their lover asking for a quick hug, even when you yourself isn't much of a physically affectionate person.

"Can I have a hug? Please?" Hiragi blinks slowly in confusion, takes a look behind him before directing his attention to you. "… Did you have to ask me in a sketchy alleyway of all things?" he finally asks, which makes you laugh, hands still outstretched waiting for Hiragi to take the 2 steps to reach you.

"And here I thought I was going to get a lecture from dragging you away from patrolling." you say, now wriggling your fingers to emphasise your current need for a hug from your boyfriend. "Think of it like an energy boost for the day! I know you've been craving a hug from yours truly for a long time after all, it's been a while since your last recharge!" you add on, Hiragi quirking an eyebrow with a smile.

"You're keeping track of them now?" he scoffs, taking the two steps you desperately wanted him to take, reaching out his own hands to intertwine them with your own before holding onto your wrists to rest your arms on his shoulders. "Hehe, next time I should keep track on how many Gas-kun 10 you take." you can see the roll of his eyes as he wraps his arms around your waist while you lock your own arms around his neck, rubbing your face into his neck to breathe in the faint hint of cologne he dons each day.

The arms wrapped around your waist tightens a bit more than usual, and you can feel the stiffness of Hiragi's form loosen "You're on your lunch break?" he asks softly, to which you nod against his neck, "Mhm, have to go back within 10 minutes if I don't want my teacher to give me an earful again." he hums, giving you one last squeeze before stepping back.

He only pinches your puffed out cheeks, "Don't give me that look, I'll come pick you up after school okay? I think Umemiya misses talking to you as well." Upon hearing that, your eyes brighten immediately before skipping past him out of the alleyway, "Promise to not be late?"

"When have I ever been?"

Another boy who does not know how to function when he's touch deprived! But unlike Sakura, he does know when he is indeed needing for some more cuddles than normal.

But he's awkward, he doesn't know how to actually go on about asking for hugs. Yes in his mind it's logical to just straight up ask you for a hug, or if you can just sit in front of him so he can lean his forehead on the nape of your neck and just breathe in your fragrance. Very easy to do!

Easier said than done. Especially when he's the type to not do anything before you give him permission - yes he's still scared of hurting you even though when he's around you, he's fully in control of his emotions and reactions. But there's always a lingering feeling, you know?

Still jumps in surprise at times when you graze your fingers against any exposed part of his skin, but once he sees it's you - best believe he's holding onto you till someone calls him out.

He's more prone to initiate more contact when you're alone, being that in public he's prone to get teased (whether that's voluntarily by his classmates or involuntarily by Umemiya's comments on how soft he's gotten)

So as a compromise to his awkward self when you're in public, you'll get random visits from Kaji numerous times a week - which is a silent request to just have you in his arms.

Kaji's attention is taken away from his phone when he feels your fingers graze against his chin. Glancing down, he cocks his head to the side while pushing his headphones down to rest on the nape of his neck. "What's up?" he inquires softly, you don't say anything at first - merely directing your fingers towards his cheeks to graze against his skin there.

"Weren't you supposed to patrol today?" you ask, bringing your other free hand to push Kaji's hand that's holding onto his phone to your eye level. "In around 15 minutes yeah, I just left earlier." he answers, his fingers that were absentmindedly stroking your head grazing a few stray strands away from your forehead.

"It already takes 10 minutes from Furin to my house though? Shouldn't you leave soon?" you point out, but instead of rising from his lap to let him get up from the floor, you merely roll to your side to bury your face against his stomach before becoming still - leaving Kaji with both arms in the air, waiting for you to move.

"If you let me go, that is." he finally says after a second of silence, he can feel your slight nod before you plant your hands beside him to heave yourself up from his lap. And in the blink of an eye, you're at eye level with Kaji - his breath hitching at the close proximity.

"Don't come back with too many bruises, alright?" you remind, before slotting your lips briefly over his own. As you lean back you pull his headphones snugly over his ears again, mouthing something that makes Kaji roll his eyes. "You still let me inside regardless, so that threat doesn't work anymore."

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #haruka sakura x reader #suo hayato x reader #ren kaji x reader #hiragi toma x reader #umemiya hajime x reader

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ssahotchnerr · 1 day

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literally cannot stop thinking abt grocery runs with the family 🫠 Aaron will be carrying Ellie while she points out things she wants to add to the cart while jack is helping reader to push the cart 🥹 aaahhhh I cannot they're just so cuteee 😭😭😭

- 🪷

my heart is melting

hehe ellie simply refuses to sit in the cart seat. if aaron's in her line of vision, she must be with him, end of story. you'll put her in the seat anyway, to see if she'll actually choose to stay put, but every time: she's trying to wiggle out or she's holding out her arms for aaron to pick her up 🥹🥹🥹🥹

ellie's hoisted on his side, aaron's using one hand to grab items and toss them in the cart, showing/telling her what the food is, or what meal it's going to be apart of; "you see this? this is tomato sauce, and it goes with spaghetti. but don't tell your grandpa dave, this isn't the authentic stuff🤨" 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰😭😭😭😭😭 and omg you know how cereals sometimes have certain characters on the box? ellie happens to see her favorite show, and is adamant it's bought. she's pointing at it and getting a bit whiny. aaron will take it off the shelf and she holds onto it for the rest of the shopping trip, wants to hold it in the car too 😭 the only problem though, she wants it for the character on the box 😭 say it's some fruity berry cereal, it's given to her at breakfast the next morning, and she detests it. refuses to eat it, jack doesn't like it either, so you and aaron eat it so it doesn't go to waste, although the two of you don't enjoy it either 😭 come the next shopping trip, ellie sees it and wants it again, and aaron's all, "but honey you didn't like it😭"

or when ellie's learning to walk/finally has gotten the hang of it, she holds aaron's hand and waddles down the aisle 🥰🥹😭 (depending on the aisle too, not near any jars or glass containers) she's grabbing anything off the shelf she can reach. aaron's just following her, putting things back 😭💞💓💕

and jack 🥹 hehe he can barely see over the shopping cart, but he's at that age where he wants to do everything himself 😭 he tries to push it as much as he can, but can't, which is where you come in 😭 hehe he's in front of you as you push the cart, standing on the lower level compartment and getting a free ride 🥹 but jack's sooo helpful when shopping, and wants to be 🥹 you and aaron tell him what to grab, are very inclusive when it comes to picking out dinners/snacks/special treats. like with ellie being young and in constant need of attention, it's a small way to make him feel special 🥹🫶🏻 if ellie's in the shopping cart seat - and not happy about it - jack's distracting and entertaining her too 🥹💓🫶🏻

#ellie hotchner <3 #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #let's talk aaron <333333 #🪷anon

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ddollfface · 2 days

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𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤!𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐀 𝐏𝐨𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐒/𝐎?

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

Summary; How do LoveSick!Characters react to having a s/o who's very extroverted, has a "sunshine" personality, and attracts others? (Thank you so much for 300 followers!!!! I'm sorry for the lack of activities, and I'm so grateful that everyone is my inbox is being patient... I promise more content is coming!! Love you guys!!!)

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝘼𝙩𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚

Honestly, I think LoveSick!Athlete mixes very well with most people, so having an introverted or extroverted s/o doesn't matter too much for him, as long as their sweet. But if you're more energetic and attract attention from others, then I feel that he'd be kinda proud?

I'm not too sure if that's the correct word, but he likes seeing you interact with other people because you're just so cute! The way you giggle and flash a cheeky smile just makes him chuckle. You're far too sweet, so it's enjoyable seeing you be yourself. Not only that, but it also helps his "popular guy" persona he has going on, so having a hot babe who's funny really boosts his social points.

Though, don't get it twisted, he doesn't just see you as a social credit, far from it, but he can't deny the pride he feels when you flaunt yourself. LoveSick!Athlete has never been the jealous type (which I talk about here), so seeing you look hot and getting attention doesn't bother him. It just makes his chest warm, knowing that he bagged such a cool girl.

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙋𝙤𝙚𝙩

Nope, nope, nope, he'll actually die. Don't get LoveSick!Poet wrong, he's oh so grateful that he has you, and he honestly has no idea how he bagged such a baddie, but that doesn't mean he can handle so much attention.

You have to understand, LoveSick!Poet has never been one to draw attention. And if he did, it was never positive. He's always been a loner, someone who's admired others from afar, jotting down his thoughts in some notebook. That's how he's always been, so imagine his surprise at the sudden attention he's getting by proxy of dating you.

By nature, you are radiating an energy that others can't deny. For some reason, you just attract people, both their attention and admiration, and that's what originally drew LoveSick!Poet to you. He couldn't deny that his eyes drifted to your form more than once.

He thinks of you as a goddess, someone who's out of his reach, and only to watch from afar. But now that he's dating you, he can't help but pinch himself, only to make sure that it's not a dream. LoveSick!Poet is convinced that you're an angel, so he really can't complain that others notice how amazing you are.

LoveSick!Poet is partially filled with pride, seeing as others are acknowledging your amazing personality/looks. But, at the same time, he gets far too nervous to deal with all the eyes that are constantly peering into your relationship. He can't help but feel a little insecure, especially when he hears the whispers throughout the apartment complex. It's neverending, really.

But he brushes them off, deciding not to listen to others, and only focus on you, you, you. You're his idol, his goddess, his partner; why should he focus on others when he has you? Why would he ever doubt your decisions when you're oh-so-perfect? Don't you understand? You are everything.

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝘽𝙞𝙢𝙗𝙤

I'm not going to lie, it's a 50/50 with LoveSick!Bimbo. On some days, she's so proud of her baby girl. After all, you're so, so, so popular and so cute! She loves that you're extroverted and friendly, and your personality is one of the reasons she fell for you. You're just oh-so pure.

She likes that everyone is envious of both of you, most can't choose whether they want to be you or her, and it makes her giddy. LoveSick!Bimbo loves attention, but the moment she notices the way men seem to undress you with their eyes, focusing far too much on your breasts and ass. Some even go as far as to reach out and try to grab.

Let's just say that they're not going to class anymore. And the moment you express any discomfort with how others sexualize you and seem to focus on all the wrong things, is the moment she snaps, realizing that she in fact doesn't like the attention.

Of course, she doesn't mind getting sexualized, if anything it gives her power, but the moment anyone looks at you the wrong way, it fills her with rage. LoveSick!Bimbo is jealous, something she's not accustomed to. She doesn't like others paying so much attention to you. She should be the only one looking at you, touching you, kissing you.

No, no, no, who do these men think they are? Can't they see that you're a lesbian? Ugh!! It makes her cheeks puff up and her eyes sharpen. They better be ready for hell 'cause nobody looks at her baby like that!

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙁𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙

She for sure gets along better with a s/o who's extroverted, it balances out her introverted nature. LoveSick!Friend likes to think of you as the yang to her yin. You're the sweet one in the friendship; the one who holds her back when she gets too heated; the one to drag her to parties; the one to introduce her to new people; the one who carries conversations.

Yeah... you're definitely the louder one in the friendship relationship but she prefers it that way. She likes the way you can't sit still, always having to be talking, moving, or giggling.

And, as an observer, LoveSick!Friend enjoys just watching you, you, you. The way you go about your way of life is so different from her that she can't look away, it's impossible. You're irresistible and too perfect for her. The way you cling to her, always wanting to hold hands, loop your arms together, and hug each other; makes her heart all warm, causing her cheeks to heat up.

You're not afraid of initiating anything, which catches LoveSick!Friend off guard, seeing as she's never been courted in such a way. There's always been the straightforward men who can't tell a lesbian from a girl who isn't interested, but you're just a little ball of sunshine. You're something she can't understand, something that is so outside her worldview that she just had to befriend you, and now she can't get enough of you, you, you.

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩

I'm just going to say it straight up, you lucked out. Out of all the LoveSick!Characters, I'd say that Lovesick!Artist is probably the worst to have, especially if you're a very extroverted person who relies on social interaction to thrive.

LovesIck!Artist wants you to focus on him, him, him. Why don't you understand? You're only for his eyes, no one else. He doesn't want you chatting it up with the barista, or complimenting that girl's outfit, oh, and don't even think about smiling at that idiot frat boy.

He acts as if you're under witness protection, removing you from any conversations you get stuck in, scaring off anyone who even looks at you, and talking over you constantly. He speaks for you, acting as if you're mute, not wanting you to draw out the conversation with the cashier.

But it seems like no matter how hard LoveSick!Artist tries, you always seem to find a way to speak to others. It's as if you're magnetic and everyone else is metal. You're irresistible, stunning, and God damn pretty. He'll pull you to the side, arm wrapped around your shoulder, and lips pressed against your ear. I know you want to chat it up with the waiter, but Lovie, we really should hurry it up...

You're his main source of inspiration. If only you knew how many drawings, paintings, and sketches he has of you. LoveSick!Artist is never out of ideas when he's around you, always thinking of a new perspective, expression, positon-

And it fills him with undeniable rage when he realizes that others are likely thinking the same. How dare these men think of you, his light, his life, in such a way? Every time you walk outside, go out into the world, and talk with others, LoveSick!Artist is that much closer to tying you to his bed and leaving you with his aisle.

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huggingkoalas · 2 days

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𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤 | natasha romanoff

pairing — ‧₊˚ avenger!natasha romanoff x fem!singlemother!reader

summary — ‧₊˚ after a series of misfortunes, a knight in shining armor saves you and exacts retribution for you.

word count — ‧₊˚ 4.8k

warning(s) — ‧₊˚ tooth-rotting fluff, hurt/comfort(?), pet names (sweetheart, love), cursing, gambling, natasha and reader having a crush on each other, mentions of alcohol, punching, reader getting hurt, bruises, reader having the cutest moments with daughter, mentions of guns, clint being such a w in this fic, implied character death (not natasha or reader), mentions of drugs

authors note — ‧₊˚ finally finished this request sent a month ago :’) this isn’t the best i’ve written, but awjfjaw the amount of soft fluffy moments between reader and daughter is absolutely adorable :3 <3

The dimly lit basement was illuminated by flickering neon lights outside, which created an unsettling colour through the stained glass. Even though it was late, the passing of time didn’t seem to matter as hopeless souls gathered to drown themselves in their sorrows. It was almost suffocating, the smell of cigarettes mingled with human perspiration and the tainted air from spilt alcohol.

Natasha surveyed the room, her keen eyes taking in the shabby decor — mismatched furniture, cracked tiles, and worn-out leather chairs. Her eyes then darted to the motley collection of people surrounding a table. Their murmurs blended into the low hum of an old jukebox playing a melancholic tune. Her eyes moved from one weary face to another. Huddled together, an older woman with a permanent scowl etched into her face, a burly figure with a nervous tic in his left eye, and a muscular man — a sleek, smooth-talking gambler known only as Victor.

But amongst all of them, her gaze lingered on you, the youngest woman in the group, whose eyes never left the cards in hand.

Natasha could sense your frustration, the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat and the way your hands trembled slightly as you placed your bet, the deep sigh that escaped your lips. It was clear you were in over your head, just like so many others around the table.

Natasha took a slow sip of her cup of water, letting the liquid warmth quench her thirst. She knew that she couldn’t afford to get distracted by alcohol, not tonight. Victor, her target for tonight, was slippery, a master at evading the law and anyone who dared to challenge him. Not only did he like gambling and taking money away from the poor, but he was rumoured to be involved in something much darker — involving a new drug that was beginning to surface on the streets. It was whispered about in hushed tones, but S.H.I.E.L.D. caught wind of it, of its effects unknown but rumoured to be potent and addictive.

Furthermore, it was obvious to Natasha that Victor was cheating. The man dealing the cards was one of his henchmen, subtly slipping him the cards he needed to win. Natasha’s keen observation skills caught the sleight of hand and the coded signals exchanged between Victor and his accomplice.

She had been assigned to a solo mission to capture him. Not only was she doing her job as an Avenger, but she also wanted justice. She wanted to exact revenge for those who couldn’t fight for themselves, for those whose lives Victor had ruined.

Her eyes flicked back to Victor, who was grinning as he raked in another pile of chips. His smooth demeanour masked the predator within, but Natasha could see the calculating glint in his eyes. She’d spent days tracking him, gathering evidence, and now she was finally confident and close enough to take him down.

But first, she had a pull in her gut to ensure you got out of this mess. A feeling to help the weak, perhaps. Natasha couldn’t shake the feeling that you were here not by choice but by necessity. Perhaps you had debts to pay or were trying to find a way out of a bad situation. Either way, she couldn’t just stand by and watch you fall deeper into an abyss.

She pushed off from the bar and made her way towards the table.

“Mind if I join?” Natasha asked in a firm but calm voice. She pulled out a chair beside you and sat down without waiting for an answer. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a thick wad of cash, placing it on the table

Victor’s smile widened for a brief moment before he regained his composure. “Of course,” he said smoothly. “The more, the merrier.”

Natasha glanced around the table. “I don’t have the money in chips,” she said, “but I think this should cover it.”

The dealer nodded, exchanging her cash for a stack of chips. Natasha arranged them in front of her, drawing the attention of everyone around. You shifted again in your seat, trying to focus on your cards, but the sight of Natasha only made you lose more focus. Her beauty was captivating, with her striking features framed by waves of red hair that fell elegantly around her shoulders. Her green eyes, sharp and piercing, reminded you of the vivid colour of an emerald gemstone. You could get lost in them.

It was hard not to be mesmerised by her, especially when she kept turning her gaze towards you, her expression softening with a hint of encouragement as she offered a reassuring nod. The action made your stomach flutter, and you could almost feel your heart beat faster. Her beauty was a distraction, and you felt a pang of frustration as you realised you were going to get distracted by someone as beautiful as Aphrodite.

Fuck, how were you going to win and pay off your debts if you were this weak to attraction?

Natasha seemed to sense your struggle. She leaned in slightly, whispering. “Focus, love.”

The nickname sent a shiver up your spine, and you let out a shaky exhale as you gripped your cards tighter. Natasha knew she was beautiful, there was no denying that, but she didn’t realise that it’d have such a huge effect on you. She rubbed her teeth against her lower lip, a light blush colouring her cheeks.

Victor’s eyes flicked between you, his interest piqued by Natasha’s involvement. He could see your distraction, and it amused him. To him, you were just another easy prey. He leaned back, confident that the game was in his favour.

And he was right. Despite Natasha’s encouragement, your bad luck continued. As the last of your chips disappeared, you slumped back in your chair, defeated. Natasha frowned, reaching over and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

You shook your head, giving Natasha a feigned smile. “It’s fine.”

Victor leaned back smugly, watching the exchange in front of him. “Tough luck,” he said, his tone dripping with false sympathy. He shrugged his shoulders, smirking. “Maybe next time.”

Natasha’s eyes locked onto Victor’s, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t count on it,” she replied.

She stood up, helping you to your feet. As you left the table, a permanent frown etched on your face as a series of thoughts swirled in your mind. You couldn’t shake off the bitterness of your defeat, the image of all the money you’d earned slipping away like leaves in the wind. You replayed the game, doubt gnawing on you as you questioned every decision you made at the table.

As Natasha and you stepped outside, the flickering neon lights from the street lamps cast an even brighter eerie hue over the street.

Natasha looked at you, an expression of concern on her face. She didn’t know why she made a split-second decision to help you instead of taking down her Victor. She had her chance. She was right there. She could’ve waited at the bar longer until he’d gotten his fill of money for tonight, before capturing him quietly in the alleyway. But when she saw you — dishevelled, your hair a mess, and your knee jumping nervously — desperation radiating from your every movement, she knew she couldn’t just focus on her primary goal. You needed a lifeline, and she couldn’t deny that. Natasha knew that helping you was the right choice, even if it meant delaying her mission. She had to believe that some things were more important than revenge.

She’ll get him the next time.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

You nodded, but your eyes looked so void of life.

With a sigh of sympathy, Natasha added. “Listen, I know I’m just a stranger, but-”

You glanced at her and interrupted her, sounding sceptical. You spoke, your voice hardly audible above a whisper, “Why are you doing this? You don’t even know me”

Natasha’s mouth opened and closed as she searched for the right words. She didn’t have a simple answer. She had spent so long focused on her mission that this unexpected detour caught her off guard. It wasn’t like her to lose sight of her mission’s goal this easily.

After a moment, she finally spoke. “You looked like you needed help,” she said simply, her tone even, almost indifferent. She didn’t want to show the hurricane of emotions inside her.

You stared at her, trying to read her expression, but her face easily concealed her feelings. She was frustrated at herself for getting distracted, of course. But the only person she could blame was herself.

Natasha looked away, scanning the street as if assessing the surroundings for any potential threats. “Let’s get you home safe,” she said.

You nodded, still unsure of what to make of her. You knew it was reckless, bringing a stranger into your home, especially with your daughter inside. Or maybe you wanted to spend a few more minutes with Natasha before she’d just be another stranger on the streets. A combination of confusion and exhaustion clouded your judgment. You were too tired to care, too drained to weigh the potential negative consequences. You just wanted to get through the night before your shift tomorrow.

You led Natasha to your apartment building, a run-down structure that seemed to sag under the weight of its disrepair. The smell of decay and neglect permeated the air. The stairwell echoed with sounds of a couple arguing and a baby crying as the both of you climbed the creaking stairs.

When you reached your floor, you stopped in front of your apartment door with a sigh of relief. Natasha’s gaze wandered to the door across from yours. It was her apartment, but she didn’t think it was worth mentioning for now. Instead, she noted the rusty doorknob and peeling paint on your door.

You fumbled for your keys, trembling slightly, and unlocked the door. As it swung open, you were greeted by the sight of your daughter standing just inside, her wide eyes filled with worry and relief.

“Mama,” she whispered, rushing forward to wrap her small arms around your waist. You hugged her tightly, the tension in your shoulders easing in her embrace.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?” you asked your daughter, your voice straining to mask the exhaustion in your voice. “You should be asleep.”

She nodded, her eyes still wide with concern. “Had a nightmare. Couldn’t sleep without you.”

Your heart ached at her words. “I’m here now,” you reassured her, stroking her hair gently.

Natasha watched the scene with a softened expression. Despite her tough exterior, the sight of your daughter’s innocent concern and your tender actions tugged at something deep within her. She felt a tingling deep in the pit of her stomach, and an endearing smile appeared on her face. She followed you quietly, clicking the door closed behind her.

“Mhm.” Her gaze shifted to Natasha. “Who’s this, Mama?” she asked curiously, tilting her head to the side.

“This is…”

Shit, you didn’t even know her name.

Natasha smiled, crouching down to your daughter’s level. “Hi there,” she said warmly. “My name’s Natasha. I’m… your Mama’s friend from work. I love your toy lion.” She said, pointing to your daughter’s stuffed toy lion held tightly to her chest.

Your daughter perked up a little. Natasha stood up, her expression shifting back to one of attentiveness as she looked at you.

“Alright, sweetheart,” you said, gently guiding your daughter towards her bedroom. “It’s time for bed. Go get in bed and I’ll tuck you in shortly.”

Your daughter smiled, giving Natasha a wave of her hand before excitedly heading to her room. You watched her go and made sure she went into her bedroom before turning to Natasha.

You finally introduced yourself. “I’m sorry for all this… And I completely forgot to introduce myself. My name’s Y/N. Thanks for accompanying me home tonight.”

Natasha gave a small, understanding smile. “It’s alright. I had to make sure you got home safe.”

“I appreciate it, but you don’t have to stay. We’ll be fine.”

Natasha hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll leave you be, but if you ever need anything, I’m just across the hall.”

You looked surprised. “You live here?”

Natasha gave a slight shrug. “Yeah, I just moved in a few days ago. It’s a small world, I guess.”

You managed a tired smile before taking her hand and squeezing it. She squeezed your hand back. You pressed a gentle, soft kiss to her cheek which, in turn, made her smile. “Well, thank you, again, Natasha, and goodnight. I hope we cross paths again.”

Natasha’s cheeks flushed as she nodded, quickly making her way to the door. “Goodnight,” she said softly, giving you one last reassuring look before stepping out into the dimly lit hallway.

As the door closed behind her, you felt a strange mix of relief and gratitude. You turned back to your daughter’s room, the faint sound of her getting ready for bed pulling you back to the present. For now, you could move on from your streak of bad luck tonight, and you could focus on what mattered most — taking care of your little girl.

Natasha made her way back to her apartment, leaning against the door as she let out a slight squeal of happiness. She touched her cheek, feeling the lingering warmth on her skin where you had kissed her. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, an unexpected rush of emotion making her feel like a schoolgirl experiencing her first crush. She felt a sense of protectiveness and a growing bond with you, something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in a long time.

Shaking the thoughts away, she remembered what she wanted to do. She pulled out her phone and dialled Clint’s number.

Clint answered on the second ring. “Hey, Natasha. What’s up?”

“Hey, Clint,” Natasha replied, her voice low. “I need you to do a background check for me.”

“On who?”

“Y/N,” she said, the name feeling foreign on her tongue. “I don’t have her last name, but she lives across the hall from me.”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing yet,” Natasha replied, choosing her words carefully. “But I have a feeling she might need some help.”

“Alright, give me five minutes. I’ll see what I can find,” Clint said, his tone serious.

“Thanks, Clint. I owe you one.”

“Just looking out for you, Nat. Take care.”

Natasha hung up the phone, feeling a combination of apprehension and determination. She may have left you and your daughter for the night, but she wasn’t about to let you slip through the cracks.

The next morning, you woke up feeling slightly refreshed than the night before, but you could still feel the exhaustion in your bones. You rubbed your eyes and stretched, trying to shake off the grogginess. As you glanced around the room, you noticed your daughter curled up beside you, still fast asleep. You accidentally fell asleep in her bedroom.

Leaning down, you pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from her face. “Mama’s gotta get ready for work. Sleep well, sweetheart.”

She stirred slightly but didn’t wake up. With a sigh, you reluctantly removed yourself from the warmth of the bed and made your way to your bedroom to get ready for work. You were in need of a much-needed shower to wash off the grime from last night. But as you reached for the doorknob, a series of knocks from the front door interrupted your thoughts, causing your heart to race with anticipation.

Could it be Natasha, returning to check on you?

With a hopeful smile, you swung open the door, only to be met with a sight that sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t Natasha standing there. It was Victor, the smooth-talking gambler from the night before, and also your debt collector. Your smile dropped instantly.

“Where’s the money you owe me, huh?” Your throat tightened with apprehension as you stepped out into the hallway, closing your door behind you. You didn’t want to wake up your daughter. “I-I’m sorry,” you stuttered, your words barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “I don’t have it right now, but I’ll get it to you as soon as I can, I promise.”

But Victor wasn’t interested in apologies or promises. His eyes narrowed with disdain as he cut you off, his tone seething with anger. “‘Sorry’ doesn’t pay bills. You’re also behind on rent. I gave you a chance to win some money last night,” he spat, his words like venom. “This is the second time you haven’t gotten me my money on time. You think I’m running a fucking charity here?”

You knew you were in deep trouble.

“I’ve had enough of your excuses,” he growled, his voice a menacing rumble. “You’re out of chances.”

Before you could react, Victor’s fist collided with your jaw with a sickening thud, sending shockwaves of pain coursing through your body. Stars danced in your vision as you stumbled backwards, the taste of iron filling your mouth.

You tried to defend yourself desperately, but Victor’s relentless onslaught on your body left you helpless, your attempts futile against his brute strength. Blow after blow rained down upon you, each one driving you further into agony.

He didn’t stop until you lay battered on the floor.

Victor spat at your feet. “You have until tomorrow,” he snarled, his voice dripping with malice. “Get me my money, or next time, it won’t just be a beating you’ll receive.”

As he turned to leave, you struggled to push yourself up from the ground, pain shooting through every limb as you clung to consciousness. You struggled with each breath, your body screaming for mercy. Your vision was blurred, sounds muffling into a distant echo as you succumbed to unconsciousness.

Natasha returned from her morning run, her breath coming in steady puffs of steam in the chilly air as she walked up the stairs to her apartment. As she approached the corridor, her eyes landed on a figure slumped against the door of the apartment across from hers. She quickened her pace, her heart hammering in her chest at the sight before her. You lay unconscious on the ground, your body broken and bruised. She rushed to your side, dropping to her knees as she assessed the extent of your injuries.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed, her voice filled with panic. “Can you hear me?”

Gently, Natasha cradled your head in her lap, shaking your shoulders with urgency to rouse you from your unconscious state. “Come on, wake up.” she urged.

You stirred slightly, your eyelids fluttering open. “Natasha?” you mumbled weakly, recognising her voice easily. Confusion was evident in your voice as you tried to make sense of your surroundings.

With a groan, you attempted to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over you, forcing you back down. Natasha’s expression softened with concern as she gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. “Easy now,” she said soothingly. “You’re injured. Let’s get you inside and cleaned up.”

Natasha managed to get you to your feet, albeit unsteadily. You leaned against her as she helped you into her apartment. Once inside, she guided you to her couch, where you could rest while she fetched an ice pack.

You scanned your surroundings. Your eyes widened in surprise as they landed on the dining table. Stacks of reports and files littered the surface, but what caught your attention were the numerous guns laid out neatly beside them. You couldn’t help but gulp nervously at the sight.

“What’s all this?” You asked, your voice weak but curious, gesturing towards the array of firearms.

Natasha didn’t have to look at you to know that you were talking about the guns. She paused, stilling herself before she sighed. She turned to face you, her expression unreadable as she returned with the ice pack from the freezer compartment of the fridge.

“Work stuff.” She replied cryptically. It was obvious to you that she didn’t want to continue the conversation further. She handed you the ice pack. “Here, hold this against your cheek, it should help with the swelling.”

You accepted the ice pack gratefully, pressing it against your sore cheek with a wince.

Natasha had a frown on her face as she watched you silently for a moment before finally speaking up. “Who did this to you, Y/N?”

You hesitated, unsure of how much you should reveal. You kept repeating to yourself that Natasha was a stranger, a beautiful and potentially dangerous stranger in fact, but no one had ever cared for you as much as her. Not even your ex-husband gave you this much concern. Seeing the genuine worry in Natasha’s eyes, you sighed, leaning back against the backrest.

“It was Victor,” you said, your face cringing as you uttered his name. “He’s been pursuing me to get the money I owe him.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened with rage as her expression darkened. She whispered under her breath, “That fucking bitch.” Her imagination was already running wild with all the things she would do to him if she got her hands on him.

She turned to face you again, her gaze softening. “Would you like me to call the hospital? Or perhaps bring your daughter here?”

You shook your head, feeling sick to your stomach at the idea of bringing your daughter into this mess. “No hospitals,” you firmly declared. “And I don’t want her seeing me like this.”

Natasha respected your choice and nodded understandingly. “Alright, then,” she softly answered. “You should get some rest.”

“I have work today,” you mumbled, trying to convince yourself to push yourself up from the couch. “I need to get the money for Victor.”

You really couldn’t afford work today, not with Victor’s threat hanging over you. You couldn’t even begin to think about what would happen if you didn’t get his money ready. Fear gripped you as you thought about your daughter. What if he came after your daughter? You couldn’t bear the thought of Victor hurting her.

Natasha gently placed a hand on your chest, pushing you down to the couch. “You can’t go to work looking like this,” she said, huffing. “You need to rest and heal. I’ll handle things from here.”

You looked at her, trying to argue. “But-”

“No buts,” Natasha interrupted, softening her tone. “You’re in no condition to work. I’ll figure something out for you. Just focus on getting better, alright?”

Seeing no point in arguing, you sighed and nodded, letting yourself relax back on the couch. “Alright,” you conceded, wincing as another jolt of pain shot through your body. “Thank you, Natasha.”

Honestly, you couldn’t fathom what you had done to deserve kindness from someone like Natasha, particularly considering the constant stream of misfortune that seemed to follow you like a shadow. Gratitude was a foreign emotion to you. Unfamiliar yet strangely comforting. It warmed your heart. You were grateful that some higher being brought her into your life at your lowest point.

“Don’t mention it, love,” she replied, giving you a reassuring smile. “Now, get some rest. I’ll be back soon.”

Natasha stepped out of the apartment and pulled out her phone as she closed the door. She quickly dialled Clint’s number, her mind already formulating a plan.

“Hey, Nat,” Clint’s voice came through the line. “What’s up?”

“I need your help,” Natasha said, her voice laced with urgency. “There’s a situation with Victor. He beat up my neighbour, Y/N, and things might be getting dangerous. I need you to come here with the Quinjet and get her and her daughter back to the Avengers compound. They’re not safe here anymore, and she refuses to get treatment from the hospital.”

Clint didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Hang tight, Nat.”

“Thanks, Clint,” Natasha replied, relief washing over her.

Natasha hung up and returned to your apartment. She found you lying on the couch, eyes closed but not quite asleep. You opened your eyes when you heard the door close, giving her a questioning look.

She sat down beside you, her expression serious yet gentle. “My friend, Clint, he’s coming to get you and your daughter out of here,” she began. “He’s one of my closest friends, and he’s someone I trust with my life. He’s on his way with the Quinjet. It’s a high-tech aircraft and it’ll get you to the Avengers Compound safely and quickly.”

You gave her a confused look. “Avengers Compound?”

Natasha nodded. “Mhm. I guess I haven’t really explained what I do. I’m… an Avenger. I’m in a team with other individuals with special abilities and skills who protect the world from threats. My job is to keep people safe, and right now, that means you and your daughter.”

“Are you sure it’s okay? Won’t I be in the way?”

“You won’t be in the way,” Natasha assured you. “The Compound is probably the safest place for you, and you can get the treatment you need there. You’ll be safe there, and I’ll figure out how to deal with Victor so he can’t hurt you again.”

“Alright… Thanks, again, Natasha. I really owe you twice, now.”

“It’s fine, love. Just get the rest you need.”

You woke up, and immediately you could feel your head pounding. The sterile smell of antiseptics hit you like a brick. As your eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light, you realised you were in an unfamiliar place. The room was quiet, save for the soft beeping of medical equipment.

Panic started to set in until you spotted Natasha, a familiar figure slumped in a chair beside your bed. She was asleep, her head resting on her arm. The position she was in looked really uncomfortable, you could imagine the strain she’d feel on her neck once she woke up. At least she was here, and the sight of her made you relieved.

You took in your surroundings, noticing the high-tech medical equipment and the pristine cleanliness of the room. This wasn’t a regular hospital. Where were you?

You shifted slightly, wincing at the pain, but the movement was enough to wake Natasha. Her eyes fluttered open and she quickly straightened up, her gaze locking onto yours.

“You’re awake,” she said softly.

“Where am I?” you asked, your voice hoarse.

“The Avengers Compound,” Natasha replied. “We got you out of there. You’re safe now.”

You relaxed further into the bed, closing your eyes for a moment. “You’ve done so much for me, Natasha. I really don’t deserve this,” you whispered.

Your words barely scratched the surface of how you felt.

She reached out and gently held your hand. She held your hand to her lips, kissing your knuckles with gentleness. “It’s alright, love.”

You pulled the blankets to your cheeks, covering the redness seeping up your cheeks at her tender and sweet action. “What happened with Victor?”

“Let’s just say he… won’t be disturbing you ever again.” Natasha shrugged.

Before you could respond, the door to the infirmary burst open, and a small whirlwind of energy barreled into the room. Your daughter ran straight to your bedside. Behind her, Clint stood in the doorway, waving at Natasha.

“Mama!” Your daughter cried, throwing her arms around you as carefully as she could. “I was so scared!”

You hugged her back, ignoring the pain that flared in your body. “I’m okay, sweetheart,” you whispered, stroking her hair. “Everything’s going to be okay now.”

Clint stepped forward. “Not sure if you remember me, but… I’m Clint. I’m sure Natasha has spoken to you about me.” He pointed to your daughter. “Your daughter’s been worried sick about you. Couldn’t keep her away from this room forever.”

Natasha gently lifted your daughter from under her armpits and placed her beside you on the bed. She couldn’t help but soften as she watched the reunion.

Your daughter looked up at Natasha. “Thank you for helping my Mama,” she said earnestly.

Natasha ruffled your daughter’s hair. “It was my pleasure. Your mom’s a tough cookie, just like you.”

Clint stepped closer, giving your shoulder a kind and supportive squeeze. “You’re in good hands here in the Avengers Compound. You’re part of our family now and we’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”

Your daughter nestled closer to you, her presence a comforting reminder of what mattered most. “Thank you, Natasha. Thank you, Clint. I don’t know how to repay you.”

Natasha smiled softly. “Just focus on getting better. That’s all the thanks we need.”

You laid back on the bed, one arm wrapped around your daughter and the other holding Natasha’s hand. You realised, that maybe, finally, your string of bad luck had finally run its course. You closed your eyes, peace washing over your body as you let sleep overtake your body. You and your daughter could finally start a new chapter in your lives, hoping it was one with Natasha by your side.

#lumi’s fics!#marvel #mcu #the avengers #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #fluff #wlw #fanfic #fanfiction

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