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#at least he got an ending fairy
ohoshi · 2 years
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NOT A SINGLE CLOSEUP FOR HOSHI TODAY >:(
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jade-len · 5 months
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i think it'd be funny if someone transmigrated as xin mo. the goddamn evil sword. instead of taking it seriously, they just really fucked around with bingge. and, somehow, ended up having the opposite effect of what it's supposedly rumored to do.
picture this: bingge, on the quest for revenge and power, comes across the almighty xin mo. this demonic sword killed everyone that dared to even try wielding it. and, the few who were lucky enough to have it by their side, eventually succumbed to the swords' will.
it is said that the sword is unlike any other, that it etches into your head and eats away your brain, until eventually it consumes you whole. it whispers, speaking in lust, greed, and hatred. it slowly beckons the wielder into giving in to the worst part of themselves and feeds off of pure sin. but to him, it is no matter; luo bingge will surely tame it.
and then he gets to the sword.
demonic qi practically oozes from xin mo. the aura surrounding it makes every part of luo bingge scream, "run; get away, away from that monster." his gut prods at him, begging bingge that this is probably a really bad idea. it's a little terrifying, how even luo bingge, the determined, vengeful demon, is now getting second thoughts about wielding xin mo from just being in its presence alone.
but luo bingge is too, a monster. so he ignores the screams of plea; pushing every thought of doubt in the back of his head, and tightly grips onto the handle. the world around him seems to spin and shake, tumble and crack, from the amount of force bingge needs to use in order to pull the sword of sin out of its place.
when bingge finally has it perfectly fit into the palms of his calloused hands, he hears whispering. he knows that the sword has accepted him as its new host.
the sword's language crawls up to him, as if it were feeling around his body and mind. checking every nook and cranny for it to settle into bingge's form, truly becoming one with the embodiment of sin. the words flow through his brain like a tragically broken guqin, a melody that holds him in a frighteningly familiar trance - all while simultaneously eating away at his brain in the worst ways possible, akin to a child and their favorite snack. it seems to beckon something, but even with luo bingge's impressive hearing, he cannot make out any words from the tone-deaf musical notes xin mo sings.
and then, it is clear. the land around him settles, and everything is still. xin mo itself seems to be.. content. at least, that is what luo bingge believes.
the language of this wretched sword reflects the state around these two monsters.
luo bingge expects it to demand for bloodshed, for the erotic ecstasy of multiple women, for bingge to steal the last of the finest gems of these horrible, vast lands.
instead, he hears this:
"yoooo damn that shit was crazy. did you see what i did there? man, you know, it feels so fucking good to get out of the dirt. hey, do you know if people can like, feed their swords or something? i'm kinda craving something spicy. we never know, in this wack world! wait, don't hold me like that, buddy. it'll make things real awkward."
but luo bingge is determined to get his revenge, so he puts up with the swords' constant rambling about.. whatever the hell it's thinking.
"wait, dude, did you seriously fuck a dying girl? that's wild. yeah, like i know she was dying but it doesn't sound like you wanted it. yo, listen to me, consent is very sexy."
"HAHA hey, dude, sir, man. you wanna play some 'i spy'? we don't have anything else to do. no? too bad, we're playing it. i spy a loser who doesn't wanna play i spy. hint: he's holding me right now."
"okay i know i'm supposed to be this super evil sword and beg to be used - woah that sounded real wrong - but can you at least clean me when you're done killing shit? if you don't, i'm gonna refuse to respond to you and you'll look like a dumbass trying to wield me."
"i can't hear you lalalalalalala you're not being very it girl right now lallalalaalalalla-"
somehow, this is worse than if xin mo was actually eating away at his brain.
weirdly enough though, as luo bingge starts spending more time with this weird ass, seemingly possessed sword, it starts to become more of a.. comfort to have it by his side than pure annoyance. he finds himself responding to it more, like, actually having full on conversations with it. it puts him at ease, wielding xin mo. the hatred doesn't consume him, instead, it seems to soothe the burning rage (and, admittedly, just replace it with small irritation) that holds onto his darkened heart.
xin mo is actually quite kind and caring, for a sword that's supposed represent and be the literal embodiment of sin. sure, it is a hassle to have it cooperate with him sometimes, and it does just ramble on and on about the most random things ever, not giving a single shit if bingge was in the middle of sleeping with maidens and slaying those who get in his way. for the first time, bingge feels so comfortable around something.
it's.. odd. what was supposed to be the turning point in his life, a big step in his plan for revenge, is now something akin to an... acquaintance. not like mobei-jun, or any of the women he's come across, but an actual, dare he say, friend.
sometimes, he finds himself thinking all of this delusional. is this what people were driven mad by? perhaps they simply could not handle dealing with a talking sword. he understands that xin mo was undoubtedly unbearable to be around at the beginning of their alliance, but it has never actually beckoned for blood, power, and sex. if anything, it does the opposite.
maybe he's the delusional one. maybe this is xin mo's way of getting to him.
maybe, xin mo should be considered a thing. the thought feels terribly laughable, as if he were witnessing a person horribly explain themselves. it also makes his teeth grind together in pure agitation.
"hey, you know, you didn't deserve any of the things they did. it wasn't your fault, binghe. the fact that you're half heavenly demon doesn't make you a monster, or any of that wild stuff.. uh, i'm here for you, okay? i know you don't really like talking about all of this or opening up, but i just want you to know that you can.. talk about it. it's not like i can tell anyone else, anyways.
hey- shit i didn't mean to make you cry! wait, wait it's okay to cry! you need to let it out anyways, i promise it doesn't make you weak. there, there. i don't have any hands, so me patting you on the head with my handle will have to do. there, there.. everything will be alright, you'll be okay. i'll be here every step of the way, even if you want to get rid of me."
xin mo, the demonic sword, is more of a person - a good person - than anyone he'd ever come across.
...and then bingge and the xin mo transmigrator become besties or he falls for the damn sword. knowing him, he probably doesn't even know the difference between platonic and romantic attraction anyways. maybe bingge gets a plant body for xin mo using airplane's wack writing. idk i typed all of this down in one sitting.
(plot twist: it's not that the transmigrator xin mo had the opposite effect, it was literally just a placebo effect. luo bingge thought that, and thus it actually did help him lmao)
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Books of 2024: THE GIRL IN RED by Christina Henry.
We took a trip to Red River Gorge this weekend, and I both started and finished this book while we were there! It was a very speedy read.
While I did really enjoy the genre-savvy protag, I was expecting more Wolf Presence in a Little Red Riding Hood retelling, either literally or metaphorically (I mean, come on, look at that cover??). There were a couple references to (metaphorical) wolves and one coyote-man comparison early on (also metaphorical), but it felt like the Wolf Motif mostly was dropped, which was an Interesting Choice™, given that the plot entire was Red walking through an apocalypse and the forest to her grandmother's house. (Yes, she really goes by Red, which is not her name--she just really likes her red outerwear.)
This was also much more ongoing-apocalypse than post-apocalypse, and said apocalypse is referred to in-book as "the Cough" (publication date: June 2019?? wild). Family Units are endangered and fall sick on page, be warned! In addition to the Cough, there's also quite a bit of gore (via both brutal axe murders (self defense) and chest bursting a la Alien (which is the in-book comparison lol--see "genre-savvy protag")(admittedly this chest bursting subplot did feel very What The Hell Is This Fresh Bullshit, and not exactly cohesive with the rest of the story...not sure why that's in there lmao)).
Again: Quick read! Not super complicated or twisty, but it was a nice simple read after making it through THE BITCH QUEEN CHRONICLES, and I'm glad I read it for my own LRRH retelling reasons.
#books of 2024#book photography#my photography#the girl in red#christina henry#lrrh#forreal though i am SO GLAD i didn't try to start this one while my whole family actively had COVID lmaoooo#(we just got over it finally)#and it was perhaps not the BEST choice to take to an isolated cabin in the woods but i WAS right that the forest walks vibes were on point#SERIOUSLY WHERE WERE THE WOLVES#AT LEAST A WOLF!!#i really thought one character we met toward the end might be Wolfish but. he was just a genuinely nice guy#that was lowkey a disappointment ngl#also the Cough/crawler thing felt. out of place and unresolved.#like she (the author) could've picked ONE of those threads they weren't both necessary??#and then the chest bursting/crawler thing wasn't. resolved. at all??#like the protag even said in narration she was just gonna let it go not her business??? also disappointing.#(it also happened with like five pages left in the whole book so. not sure what else to expect)#the whole book was literally trying to get to grandma's but it wasn't a beat for beat fairy tale retelling#(mine is beat for beat. or it will be. when i get to revising.)#(but we both have fucked up post apocalyptic viral/bacterial end of world scenarios leading to our Reds so i thought maybe a good comp.)#(not actually a good comp besides vibes though.)#OH AND SASHA (mine) AND RED (henry's) ARE BOTH NARRATIVELY AWARE#like red knows genre stuff (horror movies and scifi and survivalist things)#but i want sasha to be aware that she's In The Fairy Tale but weirdly and meta about it. so there's SOME similarity but not quite the same.#i did not like how her whole family dies horrible deaths#(spoilers i suppose)#(but you know by the first chapter that she's alone so. is it a spoiler.)#anyway i have a surprising amount of thoughts about this actually so i guess it did something to my brain?? which is nice?? i guess?#easy prose and very predictable otherwise lol
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thetimelordbatgirl · 1 year
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Being reminded of how badly S5 of Winx Club screwed Aisha over really be just, resisting the urge to rant so badly. 
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maythearo · 6 months
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" Welcome back to Night Raven College's 'Ghostly Gossip'! The school's unofficial main online source for the latest news, articles and trending topics circulating around campus! "
" I'd usually describe this as a super exclusive entry, but who am I kidding? If you've spent more than five minutes in this school, you've already seen his shadows lurking around in the background at some point (I mean, he's like. super tall.) "
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Man I've been postponing this for so long, I don't even remember half of what my process with this one was like. But I concluded that if I don't post this now, the loss of my mental notes will only get worse with time, so here you go, putting this out there once and for all lol
For a general picture I wanted Malleus' vibes to be more fairy tale-like. (He ended up reminding me a bit of Faybelle too, in a way.) The colors of those iridescent black feathers go well with him, I think. And did someone mention Howl's moving castle? Yeah, Howl's monster form.
I got this one ask before, reccomending the Cockatrice monster for Malleus, and searching a bit about it, is apparently also often taken as a synonymous with the basilisk? So like, Wyvern meets Basilisk, but it is also giving fae, idk. Listen, the idea inside my head is like, if you're asked to imagine a mythical creature that roams around a dark forest, outside the castle of a cursed princess, it's him. He's the creature.
And I'll admit I have not been catching up with the Diasomnia's chapter :( so give me 50 years at least so I can make up some more in-depth lore for his MH au counterpart (or maybe I'll just read a resume out of the wiki). Malleus enjoyers are free to drop headcanons onto him, you guys' knowledge of his character are always so astronomical it never fails to impress me /gen
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strangersmunsons · 3 months
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Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 10 Prompt: Date Night ❤️ ~ 2,400 words you and Eddie go out for Valentine's Day.
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Eddie can’t help feeling a squirm of embarrassment when he thinks about pitching you his date idea for your first Valentine’s Day evening together.
Admittedly, he hadn’t been paying attention to the calender; the date crept up on him without making a single peep. When Wayne pointedly asked him over breakfast what he was planning on doing for his girl, he just about choked on his cereal.
“D’you have eyes, kid? Every store window in town has been pink for weeks.”
His uncle just gave him an exasperated look, shaking his head.
All day, Eddie’s been scrambling to try and plan something special for you, which has proven to be difficult in a place like Hawkins, where opportunities for romance are pretty scarce, even when one (decidedly not him) has the brains to prepare further in advance than, well…the day of. 
He called you right after talking to Wayne, and confirmed a time to pick you up for your date, whatever it was going to be. He spoke too animatedly on the phone, laughed too loudly to hide his anxiety, but was careful not to let on that he had no idea what the hell he was doing. 
It ended up being only twenty minutes before he was supposed to leave when a lightbulb finally went off. But to say he wasn’t feeling confident about it would be…an understatement, to say the least.
He’s never celebrated this milestone with anybody before. Were you expecting something fancy? Maybe an expensive dinner that you could get dolled up for, and lose yourself in a dreamy whirlwind of fairy-tale romance?
Unfortunately, such extravagance was not only scarce in this rural town, but it’s also a little out of his price range. He desperately wishes that he could wine and dine you the way he thinks you deserve, but for now, on his bar-back wages, this is the best he’s got.
Eddie takes a deep breath, and raps quickly on your front door, pacing on the stoop. When the door swings open, you greet him with a beaming smile that makes you look so pretty it nearly knocks him off his feet. He’s seen it a million times before, technically; but it wasn’t until a few short months ago that you starting training that affection directly at him. He’s still not accustomed to the full force of it, and he’s not sure he ever will be.
“Hi,” you greet him, pulling the door shut behind you as you step outside. You move in close to him, closer than any mere friend would dare stand, but you’re not quite bold enough yet to reach out and grasp his hand, or lean in for the kiss yourself, so he does it for you. And with gusto.
If there’s one thing Eddie Munson is not afraid of, it’s PDA. Why should he care if someone sees him loving on you? He wants everyone to know how he feels. He’d shout it from the rooftops if he could.
“Hi, sweetheart.” He pecks at your lips again, and looks you up and down. “God, you look stunning.”
You try and laugh him off, looking a little embarrassed but not displeased. Eddie raises your entwined hands up into the air, and says, “C’mon, do a little twirl for me.”
Looking thoroughly flustered, you oblige, letting him spin you round — but only just the once.
“Yup, it’s just as I thought. Gorgeous, as usual.” He squints at you. “You got a boyfriend or somethin’ you’re trying to impress?”
You smooth the pleats of your skirt. “I do, actually. He’s ruggedly handsome and has a minor rap sheet — I’d watch out if I were you!” The last word comes out as a squeal, as Eddie suddenly snatches you up in his arms, holding you around your middle, and carries you down the short flight of steps. When both his sneakers are planted firmly on the sidewalk, he sets you down again.
Eddie escorts you to the van, and helps you climb inside. When you’re both seated, he pauses before putting the keys in the ignition. “I was thinking we could see a movie tonight,” he says conversationally. “Would that…be okay with you?” 
He watches carefully for your expression, waiting for the glimmer of disappointment to flicker across your face, but you look perfectly at peace with the suggestion. “Sure,” you chirp, giving him a shrug and and a small, perfect smile.
He tells you which film he wants to take you to, and you bust up laughing, nodding your head in affirmation. Eddie grins back at you, cheeks reddening. 
The drive to the theater is short, and within minutes, Eddie pulls into a parking space and cuts the engine.
Wanting to be sure, he asks you again, “Are you sure you’re okay with this? ‘Cause I know it’s not the most exciting night out, and I — I can call around to some restaurants if you’d rather do that instead, see if I can’t find some place that isn’t booked up —”
You cut him off. “Eddie, this is perfect. I think it’s a great idea.”
He raises his eyebrows skeptically, convinced that you’re indulging him. “If you say so.”
Eddie climbs out of the van while you wait patiently in the passenger seat, and walks around to your side. He’s been very insistent about this ritual since the first date: you cannot, under any circumstances, let yourself out of the vehicle; you must give him his chance to act the proper gentleman. 
Basically, he gets pouty and sulks if you don’t let him get the door for you.
Eddie bows, one arm extended in a flourishing gesture. “Milady.”
“Thank you, kind sir.”
With his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders, and yours around his trim waist, the two of you head into the movie theater. There’s no new releases, no blockbuster rom-coms on this Wednesday in February, so the lobby is practically empty, save for the bored, gum-snapping cashier at the box office register. 
“Two for My Bloody Valentine, please.” 
God bless the Hawkins Cinema manager for having a sense of humor.
The cashier slides two tickets across the counter. You take them eagerly, while Eddie grabs your free hand, allowing you to lead him through the spacious room. He lets you pull him along like a lovesick puppy, totally content to follow you wherever you go.
At the concession stand, he fishes a wrinkled coupon out of his jacket pocket. Fanning himself with the crumpled paper dramatically, he says, “Got a voucher for free candy. You get whatever you want, sweetheart.”
Your mouth falls open, and you look up at him with wide eyes. “You are sweeping me off my feet right now,” you exclaim giddily. 
He shrugs nonchalantly. “I aim to please.”
You make your way to the assigned theater armed with popcorn, your free Raisinets, and a large coke for the two of you to share. Eddie’s not even fully seated in his rickety chair before he starts tossing buttery kernels into his mouth. A few fly astray and land on the floor. 
“Careful,” you chide him gently. 
He responds by picking up another piece and flicking it directly into your face.
“Hey!”
Eddie leans in abruptly, face suddenly inches from yours. He stares at you intensely, the seconds ticking by, then closes the distance by sealing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.
When he pulls back he’s grinning brightly at you, while you’re rendered speechless. He wraps his arm around your shoulder again, pulling you as closely to him as he can manage with the armrest in the way. 
The house lights dim, then shut off, shrouding the room in darkness before the projector kicks on. Eddie watches the opening sequence of the film with interest, but you watch him instead. 
Hesitantly, you turn to whisper in his ear. “Hey, Eddie?”
“Yeah?” His dark eyes glint in the light of the silver screen. 
“I just wanted to say…I know we haven’t been dating that long, but I really like being with you. Thank you for taking me out tonight.”
Eddie blinks in surprise. His cheeks feel hot — now it’s his turn to be flustered. “O-oh. I do too. Like being with you, I mean.” He frowns uncertainly, gesturing towards the movie. “I mean, I know it’s not dinner at Enzo’s…” he trails off, unsure how to finish voicing his insecurity. 
You wave him off before he has time to worry again. “Eddie, you could take me somewhere to watch paint dry and I’d still have fun because I’d be doing it with you.” 
The corners of his lips turn up in a shy smile. “Really?”
“Of course.”
Eddie kisses you again, deliberate and slow, one hand lightly cupping your jaw. His lips move against yours when he whispers, “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”
~
“I forgot how Canadian they are in that movie,” Eddie snorts. 
With the film over, you and Eddie slowly plod back out towards the lobby, thoroughly stuffed on popcorn and candy and Coca-Cola. 
“Yeah,” you reply absentmindedly, suddenly much more focused on the selection of arcade games that are tucked away in the corner. “Hey.” You nudge him gently. “I bet I could kick your ass at air hockey.”
Eddie grins wolfishly at you, immediately game. “Oh, sweetheart, you wish.”
Both of you take your stances at either end of the table, Eddie fishing around in his pocket for spare change. He slots a quarter into the machine and the board hums to life; what follows is arguably one of the most zealous games of air hockey the Hawkins Cinema has ever seen, both of you slamming the puck back and forth across the table with so much vigor that, more than once, it flies off the table completely and arcs an impressive distance across the lobby. 
And as it turns out, you don’t need to wish for anything at all: you beat Eddie twice in a row, and quite gleefully. He tries to shake off his annoyance.
“You’re being too aggressive,” you tell him sagely. “That’s why you keep bouncing it back into the goal on accident.”
“I’ve never cared for sports,” he says dismissively, tossing his striker back on the now-still table, as though he’s not upset about losing.
“Someone’s got a case of sour grapes,” you tease him in a sing-song voice. 
“I do not.” He pouts. 
You pat his back sympathetically. “It’s okay. We can’t all be winners.”
“Alright, alright. Enough about my athletic ineptitude,” he laughs, poking you in the cheek. He nods over to the claw machine wedged between Pac-Man and Frogger. “Instead of spending my last quarter so you can get three-for-three on air hockey, how ‘bout I try and win you something instead?”
You clasp your hands together and hold them under your chin, batting your eyelashes. “Please do.”
He winks at you, and sidles on over, eyeing the miscellaneous goods piled up in the glass box. There are various toys, stuffed animals, small trinkets enclosed in bubbly-looking plastic containers. “This is my last quarter, you know. A lot riding on this.”
You shrug. “If you can’t get me a prize, we’ll have to break up.”
“Ouch! You’re a cold, cold woman, you know that?”
Eddie’s about to use his last coin, when he thinks better of it. Instead, before the machine eats it forever, he holds the quarter out to you in his palm, and with a deadly-serious expression says, “Blow on this for me.”
You blink at him. “What?”
He sighs with mock-impatience. “For good luck. C’mon, every gamblin’ man knows that.” 
“Oh.”
You blow on the quarter, and Eddie finally starts up his game. The pink tip of his tongue pokes out from between his lips, and his brow is deeply furrowed — the picture of concentration. He wields the control stick like it’s a deadly weapon, with the utmost care and precision. He’s aiming for a small teddy bear in the back left corner, perched precariously on the mountain of toys, but angled in such a way he thinks he might be able to nab it. 
He makes his last minute adjustments, then triumphantly slaps his hand down on the button, heavy rings clacking against the plastic.
The claw sinks down, steely fingers outstretched, and…misses the bear by inches, instead plowing deeper through empty space, and then enclosing around one of the smaller hidden prizes below. 
“You got it!” Your voice is excited; you grasp his shoulder and hop and down in victory as the claw rises again, veering towards the drop-bucket. 
“Yeah, but that’s not I wanted,” he grumbles dejectedly. “What is this shit?”
There’s a soft plunk! as the secret object hits the metal chute, and Eddie quickly opens the flap to snatch his prize. It’s a round, plastic container with a pink lid, small enough to fit in your palm; not unlike something you might find in a gumball machine. The plastic is frosted, so you can’t quite make out what’s inside.
“Can I open it?”
Eddie chuckles. “Well, I got it for you, didn’t I? Sorry for winning trash. I was aiming for the bear,” he hooks a thumb back towards the stuffed teddy, still trapped inside his glass enclosure. 
You ignore the little jibe towards your prize, and pop the lid open. Inside is a little plastic ring; fake silver, with a pasted-on rhinestone in place of a diamond. 
Your lips curl up into an involuntary smile as you examine the ring with joy; you love it. Eddie watches you play with the jewelry, mightily endeared. 
“I guess that’s not too bad, huh?”
“Eddie,” you put a hand on his chest, “you could not have won me something better. Thank you for spending your last quarter on me. I’m the luckiest girl in the world, I swear.”
Eddie takes the ring from you, and holds your hand with the other. “May I?” he asks.
You bow your head. “Of course.”
Eddie’s about to slip the ring onto your right index finger, then hesitates. “Actually…I think it may look better over here.”
He switches to your other hand, and slides it onto the ring finger — it’s a bit loose, but you wouldn’t want to wear it any other way. 
Your eyes are wide, sparkling as you beam at him. “I love it. It’s perfect.”
“It won’t be the last ring I put on you, sweetheart.”
Eddie Munson makes good on his promises. Three years to the day, in the exact same container, he gave you another ring just like your old one — except this time it had a real band, with a real jewel, and he did it on bended knee.
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Happy Valentine's Day darlings!! thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist
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villifix · 16 days
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fairy wings and bloody knees ♡ | daryl dixon
word count: 1.9k
A/N: this is really just daryl and reader's daughter. reader is mentioned but not seen during this fic. eventually i will get around to making a part 2 with daryl x reader! this idea was inspired by @louifaith and i included a piece of artwork by @vaebun at the end of the story that is absolutely ADORABLE. please take a moment to view both of their blogs for great content! ♡ also i didn't do much proofreading so forgive meee
"I like your fairy wings."
It took a moment to register the words before Daryl realized they were directed at him, and another moment for him to realize that - shit - so was a pair of big brown eyes. His boots came to a slow stop as he regarded the child. The girl couldn't have been older than six, a tiny little thing with unruly curls and scabbed knees, gripping a piece of pink sidewalk chalk in one hand. Her curls fell into her face as she leaned to try and look behind him, clearly wanting another glance at the wings on his vest.
The fuck?
"Ain't no fairy." Daryl muttered gruffly, unsure of what to make of the girl. A lock of hair clung to the corner of her mouth and she pushed it away, smearing pink chalk over her cheek in the process. He let her walk behind him as he quickly scanned the area, looking for any sign of a guardian but it seemed the girl was just out playing on her own; it was strange to him, to be in a place where someone would feel safe enough to let their child outside without being right behind them. It reminded him a bit of his youth, before his mother died, when she'd send him out to ride on his bike and tell him to be back when the streetlights came on. Different times. Now, that sort of thing felt too irresponsible. Too risky - even with walls.
He felt a pressure against his back and jumped, turning to look at the little girl as she grinned up at him. Her hand was still raised in the air, fingers outstretched and tinted pink. Daryl had half a mind to tell her to quit it, to go find her mom or pops and leave him be, but a little giggle tumbled past the girl's lips and he found himself short of words. Not a moment later she turned and bounded, leaving Daryl alone. For the remainder of the day, he was entirely unaware of the little pink handprint lingering on the back of his vest.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
The following day, Carol was the first to notice that Daryl had managed to acquire a shadow. She met Daryl’s eye as Aaron led him and Abraham down the road and the archer found himself pausing at the hint of a smirk playing on her lips. “What?” Daryl questioned, eyes narrowing at the amusement painting his friend’s features. Ahead of him, Aaron and Abraham noticed him hanging back and came to a stop, waiting. “Spit it out.” “Just think you’ve got an admirer, that’s all.” Carol teased, looking past him with a knowing smile. Frowning, Daryl turned to follow her line of sight just in time to see a familiar mop of curls duck behind a mailbox. Daryl let out a quiet huff, shoulders relaxing minutely. The girl wasn’t any good at hiding - not with the way her whole body could still be seen behind the base; she’d clearly dressed herself that day, too - floral overalls clashing with a bright, striped shirt. It didn’t look like she had any chalk that he’d have to be on the lookout for, at least. He could still hear Rick’s chuckles from the night before when he’d pointed out the handprint on his vest. With a dismissive shake of his head, Daryl turned back, moving to continue on with Aaron and Abraham. “Ain’t nothin’. Just a kid.” “Look at you, already a hit with the ladies!” Abraham chaffed, earning a pointed scowl.
“Stop.” Aaron glanced between the two men with a relaxed smile, sparing a glance towards where the girl peeked her head out from behind the mailbox, watching from a distance. Aaron offered a little wave, to which the girl returned a cheeky smile, pressing a finger to her lips as if her presence was a secret between the two of them. “That’s Remy.” “Remy?” Daryl echoed, unamused. “Yeah, Remy. Short for Remington, but for your own safety just call her Remy.” “Remington?” Abraham cut in, unable to contain the amusement in his tone. “Like the rifles?” “I think so. I’m pretty sure her dad picked it.” Aaron told them, motioning for them to follow as he continued down the road. He’d mentioned wanting to introduce Abraham to one of the community members that ran the construction projects for Alexandria, and planned on taking Daryl to speak with Deanna after; she was still figuring him out, trying to decide which job would suit him best. He might’ve had time to brew on how much he couldn’t stand Deanna’s attempts to categorize him if his thoughts weren’t still stuck on the girl - Remy. Daryl glanced back over his shoulder, just enough to notice that she was trailing behind as they walked, eyes downcast and focusing hard as she balanced on the curb of the street while she followed. “She always just out here on ‘er own?” “Not exactly,” Aaron explained, considering his words before adding, “mostly just in the afternoons when she doesn't feel like sitting in class with the other kids. She's usually with her mom whenever she isn’t helping in the infirmary. Actually, I've been meaning to take you all by there - have you met (Y/N) yet?” “Nah.” Daryl muttered, finding no recollection of the name. “What about ‘er dad? He dead?" “Well, no. That’s, uh… a bit more complicated.” A brief silence fell over the them, and when Aaron peeked from the side of his eye to see that Abraham and Daryl were both still waiting for an answer, he let out an uncomfortable sigh. After looking back to ensure Remy was far enough that his words wouldn’t carry, he continued in a softer tone. “Her dad is around but not really around. It’s a long story - and really, not mine to tell - but... alright, they have an arrangement that Deanna settled between them. He gives Remy half of his rations every week, outside of what he hunts for the pantry, and (Y/N)... well, I guess you can say she has 'custody'. Like I said... it's complicated.” While Daryl’s lip twitched with irritation, Abraham let out a low whistle. “Well, ain’t that 'bout a bitch. Whole world goes to shit and you still can’t get outta child support.” It took a solid few seconds for the redhead to register that Daryl and Aaron were both staring at him, deadpanned, before he held up his hands in surrender. “I’m just sayin’!” Daryl didn’t find any of it funny in the slightest. It was bad enough that a kid had to grow up in a world like they were living in, but to have a deadbeat dad on top of it? And the Alexandrians, they just let it slide - let him give her some food and throw the rest of his duties as a parent aside.
Bullshit. This place, these people, this attempt at 'normal' life. A bunch of bullshit.
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Talking to Deanna left him in the same spot he was in before. For whatever reason, she couldn't seem to figure out what to do with him even though he already knew the answer was obvious. He didn't belong in these walls, wasn't built for playing house and acting like there weren't monsters lingering around dark corners beyond the streets of Alexandria. It wasn't the dead that really bothered him, not after Terminus... not after the Claimers or Grady Memorial.
There were people out there that would come across a place like this and do the unthinkable and it wouldn't matter how nice their houses were or what casseroles they could make - they would suffer because they were weak and unprepared. He wasn't built to sit back and be vulnerable. He needed to be out there, hunting or scavenging or making sure the people that would hurt them stayed far enough away.
He thought going out and catching some game could clear his mind some. So, after stopping by and checking out his crossbow, Daryl headed towards the gate without much of a plan except to get out of the walls. But of course, it wouldn't never be so easy.
If he hadn't been so on edge in this new place, he wouldn't have heard the sniffle. It didn't take very long to find the source of it - Remy, pressed up against the trunk of a maple tree, blood trailing from her knees down to her ankles. She'd had to have fallen, tearing open scabs that were still healing. Though her knees were bloody and raw, cheeks wet with fresh tears, she didn't seem to pay them any mind.
Following her gaze to where she stared off in the distance longingly, Daryl quickly pieced together what was really upsetting her. Lingering by the front gate, in conversation with one of the other Alexandrian men, was a man with a hunting rifle strapped onto his back. A Remington rifle. That was her dad. Her dad, getting ready to go out on a hunt while she sat here with torn knees and a yearning heart. Well... he'd be damned if he were going to walk away from that.
"Must be clumsy." His own voice sounded foreign to him as he took a step into her view, trying hard to sound casual though he wasn't entirely sure how to approach the situation. Those big puppy-dog eyes looked up at him and he could have sworn he felt like somebody kicked him in the gut.
"Clumsy?" Remy echoed, confused, and sniffled again as she reached up and swiped her nose with the back of her arm.
"Means ya fall a lot." Daryl explained.
"My daddy's leaving." Remy blurted, lower lip quivering a bit as she looked past Daryl to see the man finally stepping out the gate, pushing it shut behind him.
Daryl looked over his shoulder towards the gate, acknowledging the man's departure with a sideways glance. "He come tell you goodbye?" Remy merely shook her head in response and Daryl hummed, unsurprised. He looked down to her knees, considering, before pulling a rag from his pack and kneeling down beside her. "Here, lemme see."
Remy extended one leg as Daryl gently reached for her ankle, watching with a pout as he wiped the blood from her shin before switching to the next leg and doing the same. Her knees were still bleeding a bit, but her legs weren't dripping blood anymore, at least. When he dropped her second leg, Remy blinked up at him through watery lashes. "I want Mommy."
Daryl met those doe eyes of hers, thinking back to the conversation with Aaron earlier that day. He'd mentioned Remy's mom - (Y/N) - helping in the infirmary. Seemed the girl probably needed to get some gravel cleaned out of her knees, anyways...
"C'mon. Let's go find yer ma." Daryl told her, pushing himself back to his feet and holding out a hand for her to grab onto to. As soon as Remy pulled herself up, though, she tried to take a step and limped, whining loudly. Not a second later, Daryl was instinctively scooping her up, resting her on his hip; and Remy, instinctively, reached up to wrap her arms around his neck as he carried her towards the infirmary to see you. Her messy curls tickled his stubble as she tucked her head against his neck, and if it weren't for that alone, then surely it was when he walked into the infirmary and laid eyes on you for the first time that Daryl Dixon knew one thing for certain...
He was so fucked.
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artwork by @vaebun !! ♡
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ethereal-night-fairy · 3 months
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This dark vampire poly!141 x hostage!reader idea is based off a comment I got on one of my works on Ao3 I would love to tag them if they were on Tumblr but I don't think they are.
Comment : Oh I'd love a vampire au! An idea for it if you are open to consideration: the 141 have been around for centuries, John pretty much turned all of them starting with Simon, then with Johnny, and then with Gaz being the youngest (although Gaz is still over a century old). Reader, of course, is human, moving to a new town to start over completely and ends up running into one of them. And they just know that reader is the missing piece that they had been looking for--the one that is the last to be bound to them. Because for an immortal creature it only makes sense that they would, in even just the name of species preservation, have multiple mates dictated by fate, instinct, or what have you :)
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This sounds like a great premise for a vampire au. Also what if Knight price was turned in the medieval ages by a vampire lord he was tasked to kill and ended up being turned as he killed the last of the vampire kin for the English king. He fled obviously when he realised what happened letting his knights think he was killed in battle.
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Time passes and he doesn't age, he watched his loved ones from a distance growing old and having children before ultimately passing away. It pains him that he lives like an animal hunting for blood in the forest unable to live a normal life.
But he still wishes to do, to be good . So as his powers build and the sun doesn't scorch his skin anymore. He joins the army century after century to regain some sense of humanity. (That's a horrible way to regain humanity if I'm honest, though in his defence he fell for the propaganda and thought he was doing a good thing.) But the bloodlust becomes so much worse the more he kills. The more blood stains his hands the more he longs for the chaos and violence.
He gathers companions along the way. Men like him that were on the brink of death but had so much to live for. He couldn't let them die he just couldn't! By the 21st century he had his little taskforce. His boys, his lovers, his family but someting was missing. What could it be? They lived comfortably with the wealth they had accumulated. They had their buffet layed out for them on the battlefield. What more could they want?
But something was out of place. Even with his lovers, life was becoming bleak when all they saw was violence and bloodshed. That was until they found a delicate little hostage in their capture or kill mission. Scared little thing you were tucked away in the corner of a bedroom, chained to the wall. You'd do nicely as their pet. They bet your blood tastes just as sweet as your tears.
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Their reply: Oh I love it! Johnny being a warrior that at the Battle of Culloden, fighting for Scottish independence from the British, happens to die while fighting an infuriating man. Said infuriating man, dying by the Scottsmans hand, just so happens to be lieutenant Simon. Price having already planned to watch over Simon (he said he wouldn't get attached) yet he can't help but to turn Johnny too. Neither are happy at first, they have their differences, but they can't deny the bond and love that forms. Then the three of them meet Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick in world war ii. So bright and full of life, passionate about fighting for his country and ending Nazi regime. The man runs right into a fight, saving dozens upon dozens of men, and the three know they can't let him remain dead when the inevitable comes. And Gaz, well, he keeps that light within him because at least now he can make sure that the war to end all wars wasn't done in vain.
I just wanted to show off their ideas too since it's what inspired my little snippet. I not sure if I'll turn this into a actual thing though.
Dividers by @cafekitsune
Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.
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cowgurrrl · 6 months
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Something in the Orange
Pairing: Joel Miller x art teacher!reader
Author's note: this might become a mini series idk idk
Summary: A parent-teacher conference leads to trouble [4.0k]
Warnings: no outbreak! au, teacher things, Ellie being a little loner, Joel the Menace making a return, Joel gets both his daughters in this one because it's what he deserves, flirty flirt, i think that's it???
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You feel like you've been running a million miles a minute since you got in this morning. The second you could unlock the door, at least three students spilled into your room and chaotically ran to the kiln to collect their most recent pottery projects. One of them ended up shattering (the exact one you warned Colin about, but he didn't listen), and, as per high school custom, they were all screaming about it. You consoled the students just in time for your principal to walk by and ask about lesson plans which made you scramble through your backpack for your notebook even though you knew damn well there wasn't a single lesson plan in there. "Do you always have those lights on?" Principal Martinez asked, gesturing to the room's fairy lights and orange lamps. Leave it to administration to want to avoid art classrooms so much that they don't even know about the Big Light Philosophy. 
Since then, it's been class after class. You only have one more period before your planning period and then, finally, the end of the day. There are a hundred things to do, but you can't focus on any of them. You got so caught up in managing your classroom and helping students with the hardest parts of their portfolio work that you almost forgot you had a parent meeting scheduled during your planning period. 
Calling in parents for meetings about their children may be your least favorite part of your job. It makes you feel like a bad teacher, and parents usually don't feel great about getting called in on a workday to talk about their kid. Luckily, Ellie's dad, Joel, seemed more than happy to take time to talk about her. You rack your mind for his occupation as you add some detail to a canvas you've been hiding in your office and working on when you can. Was he a blue-collar worker? Or was he another stuck-up Austin transplant parent who's gonna accuse you of lying? He'd make the fifth parent who's made you cry this semester.
A knock on your locked door pulls you from your thoughts, and you quickly put away your painting before answering the door. "I told you she was in here!" One of your students, Dina, announces as she and a posse of three other kids you don't recognize push their way into the room. "Miss, you've gotta take that thing off your door; otherwise, people are gonna think you went home!"
"You mean the sign that says, 'planning period. Do not enter?'" You ask, and she snaps her fingers.
"That's the one." She says as she and her friends start putting their backpacks down at one of your high tables. You sigh and kick the door stopper into the threshold.
"You guys can't stay here. I have a meeting in five minutes."
"With who?"
"None of your business." 
"Miss!" Dina acts wounded, and you cross your arms over your chest, your keys jingling around your neck in the process.
"I am an adult with a college degree and the debt to show for it. You are a teenager with a still-developing brain. You have to listen to me," you say. "Wait, whose class are you supposed to be in right now?"
"Mr. Flynn's."
"Guys!" You groan before walking over to your desk and quickly writing up a hall pass for them. "I know you don't like math-"
"No, we don't like Mr. Flynn." Dina cuts you off.
"Or math!" One of her friends adds, and you shoot them a (loving) disapproving look. 
"Whatever you don't like, you can't keep hiding out here. Mr. Flynn is two seconds away from trying to get me fired for how often I let his kids in here during class, and I actually like this job, so," you rip the hall pass off the pad and hand it to Dina. As they pack their stuff up, a tall, bearded man steps into your classroom and makes eye contact with you. "Out, out, out! I love you. You're gonna change the world one day, but please get out." You blow them kisses as you usher them out of the room. 
"Are you Ellie's art teacher?" He asks, a confused look on his face, and you nod.
"Yes, I am. Sorry about that. They're still figuring out that I have work to get done even when I don't have a class," you explain, a little breathless from running all over the place and getting caught off-guard. You really do try to act a little more professional with parents, but the kids threw you off. The kettle whistling behind your desk doesn't make it any better. "Is there anything I can get you? Coffee? Tea?" You pick up a random mug off your desk but find it full of murky water. "Paint water?"
"Are you allowed to have an electric kettle in here?" He asks, and you laugh nervously as you find a clean mug and your tea box. 
"I won't tell if you won't." You say. He stands there awkwardly as you pour yourself some tea, and you realize you didn't pull a chair up for him. "Um, we can sit..." you glance around your messy classroom until you find a clear table and gesture toward it. "Here." He follows your lead, and you take a deep breath as you sit down.
"You gonna be okay?" He asks, the hint of a smirk on his lips. His curly hair looks golden brown in the low light, and his round eyes have a little knowing twinkle. You take another breath to compose yourself and nod. 
"Yes. Sorry. It's been a long day." 
"Don't worry bout it. I'm sure they run you ragged."
"Is it that obvious?"
"Well, you do have paint in your hair." He says, and panic seizes in your chest. You're never more aware of how crazy your job can be until you meet Real Adults. Even if you can't remember what he does for a living, you still have to admit that you look a little silly next to each other: you, with your paint-stained sunflower dress and markered hands, and him, with his black shirt and jeans. He doesn't have any apparent stains or splatters on his clothes, but he's broad with thick biceps. He must work with his hands or something within that capacity. You clear your throat and try to get back on track with the meeting.
"Uh, so Mr. Miller, the reason I called you here today was to talk to you about Ellie," you start. "First, I just wanna say that she is an amazing student. She always does her work and engages thoughtfully with the material. I really do enjoy having her in class." 
"Well, that's certainly good to hear. She talks a whole lot bout this class and you, so... it's nice to place a face to the name," he says, adjusting his position on the stool. "But I have a feelin' you didn't call me down here just to tell me how great my kid is." 
"She is great. She's extremely talented, smart, and funny, but she spends more time in my classroom during lunch than anything else. I'm worried about her making friends and finding a community here at school. I've tried convincing her to join the art club, but she's hesitant. During class, she just sits with her headphones in and draws. She really doesn't like talking to anybody but me." You wait for blame to be assigned to you or get lectured, but it never comes. He just sighs, and he deflates a little in his chair.
"She's been through a lot this year. Well, her whole life, really, but 'specially recently," he says dejectedly. "What can I do for her?"
"There's an art show this Friday night here at the school. It'll all be student work from across the district. I thought if maybe you or... whatever adults she has at home came with her to this, she might feel more comfortable talking to her peers or even want to submit some of her own stuff."
"We can do that. I'll get off work early and ask her uncle if he wants to come," he's quick with his solution, and you're a little shocked. You rarely get parents, let alone fathers, who act this swiftly when something is going on with their kids. "Is there anythin' else goin' on that I should know bout?" 
"Uh, no. Like I said, she's a great kid. You should be really proud." You say, and the concerned wrinkle between his eyebrows disappears with a proud smile. 
"Thank you," he mumbles, suddenly shy. "And thanks for carin' so much bout her. It's nice to know she's got someone lookin' out for her here." You don't know what to say, so you just nod and stare at him. You know, like an idiot. It takes a chuckle from him to snap you out of your thoughts, and blood rushes to your cheeks.
"Yes, of course. She's a good kid." You say. 
"You said that already." 
"I bet you'd be a little scatterbrained if you were at the mercy of two hundred teenagers all day."
"You're absolutely right. I would be," he says, smirking devastatingly. "Someone ought to get you a coffee or somethin' if you're dealing with all that." 
"People like you should go argue with the school board. I'm sure you'd be popular with all the teachers." 
"That'd be a first. I think I might've been the least favorite parent for all of my girls' teachers." 
"Well, I find that hard to believe." 
"Yeah?" He asks, leaning forward just a little, and you nod, smiling. Your brain struggles to come up with something to say, and you're a little embarrassed at your silence, but luckily, your projector saves the day by buzzing loudly and making the picture on the board cut in and out. You mumble a quick apology before getting up and climbing up on a desk to jiggle a piece back into place. You hear Joel curse behind you, and when you turn to see what the problem is, you see him holding his arms out behind you. "Do you stand on desks often?" 
"Only every day. I haven't fallen yet this year." You laugh at his exasperated expression and turn back to the projector. It's still making a weird noise, so you move it around a little more, moving the desk under your feet, and Joel stabilizes it with a sigh. 
"How long has it been doin' that?" 
"Couple months. I keep putting in maintenance requests, but nobody ever comes to fix it."
"I can fix it for ya," he says simply, and you look down at him. "I've got tools in my truck. It wouldn't take long at all."
"Really?" You ask, and he nods. 
"It'd make me feel better knowin' you're not almost breakin' your neck every day."
"You mean, standing on a decades-old desk to mess with an ancient piece of equipment isn't OSHA compliant?"
"Please," he says, grabbing your ankle when the desk wobbles under you, and you laugh at his worry. "Let me fix it for you before you give me a heart attack." You think about declining and just putting in another work order, but the likelihood that anyone would actually come and fix it is slim to none. Plus, you really shouldn't be climbing on top of desks every day. You pretend to think it over for a few more seconds just to watch the worry play across his features as his grip on your ankle gets tighter.
"Only if you really mean it." 
"I really mean it," he says, offering you his other hand. "Now, would you please get down?"
"Fine." You say and take his hand. You bend to safely get yourself down, but Joel moves his other hand from your ankle to your waist and basically hoists you to the ground. Once your feet touch the floor, he doesn't let you go immediately like he's trying to figure out if you somehow got hurt when he wasn't looking. There's a part of your brain that's aware of how inappropriate this would look to any passersby, but you're also highly aware of how warm his big hand is on your hip. 
"Ya alright?" He asks softly, and you nod, taking a conscious step back from his arms.
"Yes, thank you."
"Good," he says, also taking a step back. "Let me go get my tools, and I'll get that fixed for you." 
"Perfect. I'll be here." You stand there, staring at each other awkwardly, for another moment before he turns on his heels and walks out of the classroom. The second he's out of your line of sight, you bury your head in your hands and start silently freaking out. 
What the fuck are you doing? How did a parent-teacher meeting turn into him hauling you off a desk and offering to fix your projector? Technically, nothing incriminating has happened, and it needs to stay that way. It doesn't matter if you think he's attractive or like how he worries about everything. He's Ellie's dad. Teachers have gotten fired for much less than this, and you're not willing to risk your career because of one guy. 
When he gets back with his toolbox, you're sitting at your desk and sorting through assignments like a reasonable adult. He doesn't say anything as he climbs up on the same desk you were standing on and begins messing with the mechanics of the equipment. You each work in silence for a few minutes before a screw clatters to the ground, and he grumbles something under his breath. "Do you mind..." he starts, pointing toward the lost piece. 
"Not at all." You cover your anxiety with your chipper teacher voice and search for the screw with your phone flashlight. You find it tucked between canvases, carefully pick it up, and walk over to where he's standing, waiting for him to be ready for it.
"It looks like it's just an old piece in here. I'm sure you can order a new one, and I can come back and install it if ya want," he explains, looking down at you. You probably look stupid just standing there with a tiny screw in your hand, but he doesn't laugh. "D'you mind handing me that tool to your right?" He asks, and you blindly reach for the tool you think he's talking about. "Your other right." He corrects, and you flush in embarrassment. 
"Sorry. I never was a very good woodshop student." You say, and he laughs once he has the tool in hand. 
"My girls are the same way. Just askin' ‘em to hold a flashlight while I work on their car is like pullin' teeth," he says fondly. "Speaking of which, is there a reason the lights aren't on in here?"
"The lamp light is less harsh, and it helps students focus. Plus, nobody likes coming into a bright classroom first thing in the morning." You explain, and he hums.
"If I'd had a teacher like you growing up, I would've been at school much more than I was."
"You didn't like school?"
"Hated it," he says, opening his hand for the screw. Once you drop the tiny thing into his large palm, he straightens up, and you can barely hear it going back into its rightful place. "'S a miracle I graduated." 
"That was me in college." 
"Now, I don't believe that for a second." 
"Really?" You laugh, and he nods.
"Someone like you, with your pretty dresses and all that empathy, was meant to be a teacher." 
"I wasn't always like this," you evade the compliment despite the butterflies in your stomach. "Being a teacher was never on my radar until I graduated. A lot of my life was never on my radar until then." He puts the hood of the projector back on and climbs down from the desk until he's standing in front of you again, wiping his hands on a red handkerchief from his toolbox. 
"Well, with the way you carry yourself, I never woulda guessed." He says. He opens his mouth to say something more, but the sharp tone of the bell ringing cuts him off. You jump at the sound and look at the clock as if it were wrong. 
"I'm so sorry. Time must've gotten away from me. Thank you so much again, Mr. Miller, for coming in to talk with me and looking at the projector. I hope to see you and Ellie on Friday." You say quickly as the sound of rowdy kids fills the hallway, and you hold your hand out to him. He takes it and squeezes it firmly.
"You can call me Joel. Mr. Miller makes me feel old." He says, and you smile. He doesn't look old, unlike the other dads you've encountered. Sure, he's got some gray at his temples and in his beard, but it suits him. 
"Joel, it is then." You resolve. His hand lingers in yours for a little too long before finally pulling away. "Well, Joel, unless you want to elbow through teenagers, I'd suggest you hide out here for a few more minutes." He does happily, even helping you carry supplies to your car once the hallways have cleared out enough. He's a proper gentleman, slinging your backpack over his shoulder and opening doors for you. You part only once everything is in your trunk, and he bids you goodnight with a charming smile that fills your thoughts on your drive home.
Ellie surprises you the next day as you're setting up the classroom. Normally, she isn't in until right before the bell rings, so seeing her this early is a little bit of a shock. The ink staining her hands is not. "Hey, dude. What's going on?" You ask. "Did you get breakfast from the cafeteria today? I heard Mrs. Hodges has those French toast sticks that everyone loves. You can probably get two servings if you run." 
"No, I already ate. My dad and uncle had to leave early this morning, so we got breakfast. Speaking of which," she says as she takes off her backpack and pulls a cup of iced coffee out of her water bottle pocket. "This is for you. We didn't know what you liked, so we got a vanilla latte or something." 
"Oh, El! You didn't have to do that. Thank you, honey." You say, and she sets it on your desk for you to enjoy once you don't have paintbrushes in hand. "If this is your way of getting a good grade on your piece, I already told you that you have nothing to worry about."
"It wasn't my idea. It was my dad's." She says nonchalantly before moving to the back of the classroom to get her sketch book. You, however, are confused and secretly pleased that Joel thought of you when he didn't have to. You find a message scribbled on the side when you reach for the cup to take a sip. 
Thanks again. See you Friday. -J
You turn to hide your smile from Ellie, but she's so deep in her work that you doubt she would've noticed anyway. You put some music on, and you and Ellie work silently on your projects until the bell rings and the day starts. 
The rest of the week goes by without a hitch, meaning that nobody accidentally ingested paint, and you only had to have one Come to Jesus talk with your Art 1 class. When Friday night rolls around, you're excited to see all the students work and treat yourself by wearing a new shirt with black scribbles all over it and black dress pants. You figure you should look as art teachery as possible for an art teacher event. 
By the time you get to the school, the hallways are buzzing with students dragging their parents from one piece to another and administrators praising their art programs even though you know not one of them has seen the inside of an art classroom in months. You make small talk with some of your students and their parents before finding a way out of the conversation and letting yourself wander through the makeshift gallery. You love your kids, but you really don't want them breathing down your neck as you look at all the art. You're almost at the end when you hear a familiar voice calling your name, and you turn to find Ellie walking toward you with Joel and, who you assume to be her uncle, next to her. 
"Hey, kid! I'm so happy to see you here!" You say sincerely, and she smiles shyly. You turn to her uncle and hold your hand out to introduce yourself. 
"Tommy. We sure have heard a whole lot bout you at home." He says with a smirk, and you laugh. 
"All good things, I hope."
"Of course. Ellie just bout worships the ground you walk on," he says. "Joel was singin' your praises, too." 
"Alright, I think that's enough. Why don't y'all go walk around, and I'll catch up with ya?" He suggests, and Tommy chuckles. Another teacher calls Ellie's name from down the hallway, and she's quick to drag Tommy off to meet him, leaving you and Joel alone. He's replaced his black shirt with a light blue dress shirt, and it looks like he's recently trimmed his beard. He looks nice.
"Singing praises, huh?" You raise your eyebrows at him, and he smiles sheepishly. "Thank you for the coffee the other morning, by the way. It was a really nice surprise." 
"Figured it was the least I could do to thank you for takin' such good care of my girl." 
"Well, thank you. I owe you." 
"You don't owe me a thing," he says. "Although, Tommy was a little upset that I didn't bill you for lookin' at the projector." 
"Was he?" You ask, and he nods.
"Oh, yeah," he laughs. "Said next time I should, at least, ask you on a date."
"Mr. Miller-"
"I thought you agreed to call me Joel." He raises his eyebrows in a silent challenge, and you shake your head, fighting a smile.
"Joel, while I'm flattered by the offer from someone so handsome-"
"You think I'm handsome?"
"I can't date my students' parents." You say, ignoring his question, but even then, the playful look on his face doesn't fade. "Well, I can leave you to it. I know Ellie will probably want to show you around." 
"Right. Of course," he says. "It's really nice to see you."
"You, too. I'm just glad I didn't have paint in my hair this time."
"I don't know. I thought it was kinda cute." You feel yourself blush at his words, but you have to shut it down before it can become anything more than flattery. You take a deep breath and try not to let that stupid smirk weaken your knees as he watches you.
"Goodnight, Joel."
"Goodnight, ma'am." He says, tipping his head politely before sauntering down the hallway like he owns the place. Trouble, you think to yourself. But you can handle trouble. It's in your job description, for Christ's sake. 
So, you brush off the flirting and try to ignore how his kindness and sweet words made you feel. You absolutely cannot flirt with the parent of one of your students. Dating is completely off the table. You can handle this like an adult. You have to. 
After a cold shower and a leftover dinner, you check your email once more before going to bed that night. Sitting in your inbox with alarming clarity is an email from Ellie with the subject line: Art Club. Her email is somehow just as short as her subject line. 
Simply, "When can I start -E." 
TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha
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bambisnc · 2 months
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operation : true love - how likely riize is to NOT confess!
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pairing : ot7 x reader! genre : crack + fluffff cw/tw : food mention + littol bit rushed n uneditted D: wc : im guessing maybe 400ish? -> update its 495!
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shotaro : 2/10 - cutie would plan out eveyrhting the moment he sees you and has that italicised oh moment - i'm talking your favorite flowers delivered by hand followed by your ideal date + lots of fairy lights/candles. trust me.) and woo you exactly how you deserve to be wooed <3 would get a little anxious about making everything perfect for you tho
eunseok : 7/10 - he'd lowkey be such a tsundere ... thanks to my talk w mai i'm fully convinced he's the Only academic rival to lover to exist. would for sure pine after you silently and end up confessing in the middle of an argument. you know like "why do YOU care who i'm going out?" "BECAUSE. i like you. okay bye."
sungchan : 192830429283/10 - im biased sorry. but you can't tell me you don't see best friend!him being so obsessed with you - like all your friends know it, hell even you know it but the guy himself refuses to admit. is so "we're besties!! it's natural for us to hug and hold hands and make out between classes in the janitors closet :D i mean what. i didnt say anything" coded like c'mon
wonbin : a solid 13/10 - i feel like he'd be really conflicted. like on one hand he'd rather you be the one to confess but on the other he wants to do like a huge romantic gesture and be the one to confess to you. i can imagine there being this one phase of time where he'd kinda start ignoring you to get you to reach out to him or wtv tactics the insta/tiktok girlies (gn) teach him too
seunghan : 5/10 - okay but i see him either just randomly blurting it out of nowhere over a voice call or while ur ft-ing ("hey this cat reminded me of u" "aww haha im in love with you" "WHAT") OR doing it via a more traditional, thought out kinda way ... maybe like making you a gift or writing you a love letter/song :(( <3
sohee : 4/10 - bbg is confessing to you so fast. he'd only do it once he confirms (multiple times) that you both like each other though. is immediately planning the best way he could confess to you. does all his necessary research, books everything in advance - goes all out to ensure there's no hitches, basically. him and taro probably share notes
anton : 11/10 - bro is Not confessing. you can feel free to tho he'll say yes obvi! as soon as he gains back enough conherence after he (half) faints that is. for sure the type to get you soso many gifts and he'd try to be so casual about it too "hey i got u a customized acessroies set with the fav flower/colour you like" "anton wtf" "uh no dw i had an extra hahaha". def gets u guys matching stuff a lot too
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notes : imma not be online for at least a day (shocker) so queueing this!!!! -> well that was a lie <3 + [m.list] song rec : LOVE ME BACK BY FROMIS 9 WEEWOO WEEWOO
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galacticnova3 · 1 year
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Since she has now flown off I am obligated to post the order of potato fairy extra large that I looked after for several days. Aka a gloriously chumby Polyphemus moth— the second one I’ve seen alive in over a decade— that decided to hang around our porch for most of its adult life. I saw the first live one on the same day, but he flew away when I tried to get close. But still, that’s a great sign that their population in my area is finally starting to recover! Anyways, here’s the wonderful big little creacher where I found her, which should probably make it clear as to why I moved her. Ants don’t mess around and I wasn’t gonna just leave her inches away from danger.
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I was pretty glad I did, as even after her wings were fully dried and extended and everything she couldn’t actually take off. See: her first “flight”.
Big fan of the loud impact PLAP sound, really added to the already very good demonstration of gravity. Worry not, she was totally fine afterwards. Here she is that night and the day after! Very cute and fuzzy, 1000/10.
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The next day I thought she had flown off, but then the day after that she was back on the porch! I could tell she was the same one because of her damaged antenna. She started laying eggs on the house and I realized that wasn’t going to be good for the caterpillars that might hatch, since it was a relatively long distance to any host plants even without including the vertical climb to reach branches of leaves. Since she clearly felt safe where she was, and I was also worried about ants and birds and possible insecticides, I ended up making a little “baby box” for her out of a thoroughly rinsed plastic container that initially held salted honey-roasted peanuts. I gave her a stick to hold on to which also gave her a route to climb out of the box if she wished, and provided various fresh oak leaves to lay her eggs on. Figured it would be a good setup because I could easily move it to a safe place once she was done, and keep an eye on the eggs until they hatched. I might even try to raise a few caterpillars if the eggs are fertile. However, during the process of me setting that whole deal up, she decided I looked like a good egg laying spot.
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You can see the “glue” that sticks the eggs to surfaces! It was cool to see up close: she’d lay an egg, wait for it to dry, and then lay the next right by it. She ended up sticking four on me before I was able to gently nudge her to the egg laying box. The stick was eventually deemed an acceptable substitute, and over night she… made an egg stalactite of sorts on it? Very weird, I think, I dunno; most of what I read online said their eggs would be laid in spread out clusters of two to three on suitable host plants. I know it wasn’t because she couldn’t get out, as when I went to check on her she had already made her way to the top of the stick and was hanging off of it outside the box. I didn’t think to take a picture of that as I needed to drive to college, but source: dude trust me. Here’s a picture of the egg sculpture I took when I got home.
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When I was done with that I went to move her off the porch where she had been staying safe for the last 5 or so days to the more wooded area of the yard, but she ended up flying off to the treetops on her own after I brought her into the open. I guess laying a bunch of eggs made her finally light enough to fly. Maybe she was feeling upset at me for not being able to pay child support and making her lay her eggs on a stick instead? Or she was just doing normal moth things or whatever. It was bittersweet to watch her go, but I’m glad she had the chance to soar the skies at least once before her time was up.
@onenicebugperday
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goldfish-afterhours · 5 months
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Genshin Characters as Fairy Tales
Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Zhongli, Xiao x Gn!Reader
Type/Genre: Bulleted headcanons, angst/fluff
Warnings: Not all fairy tales have happy endings—major character death
Notes: Man why are fairy tales so sad
Diluc
Cinderella
On the night of your 18th birthday, your father holds a grand masquerade ball, inviting everyone in the kingdom
You, however, had little to no interest in such things. While the party was happening inside, you decided to take a stroll in the gardens
Who knew there would be monsters lurking in the dark that got past the guards?
Before it could devour you, someone sliced its head off with one fell swoop
Standing in front of you was a man with red hair, a black masquerade mask obscuring his eyes
You thanked him and offered him a reward, but he declined. Upon seeing your disappointed expression, he suggested just spending the night talking with him, since he didn’t know anyone at the ball
The two of you sit outside, talking about anything and everything as the night grows later and later
Just as the clock struck twelve, the masked man jumps to his feet, muttering something about how he has to get home
You try to persuade him to stay, or at least tell you his name, but he dashes off so fast you can’t catch up to him
All he left behind was your memory of his soft smile…and a black mask, dropped in the grass
You scour the entire kingdom for him, holding up the mask to every person you meet in hopes you find him, but to no avail
But a crazy idea pops in your head
Deep into the night, you stroll down the main street, unarmed. Just as you expected, a group of hoodlums threaten you, demanding money in exchange for your life
And just as you expected, the man with red hair returns to save you again
For saving your life twice, you insist on giving him a grand reward
You bring him, the son of a deceased and disgraced ex-government official, to the castle, and the two of you live happily ever after <3
“I was afraid you didn’t want to see me again. But putting yourself in danger was much too reckless.”
“That’s how much I wanted to see you again~”
Kaeya
The Little Mermaid
Kaeya, a merman, falls in love with you, a pirate
He’s always swimming beside your ship, listening to you sing with your shipmates of treasure, of good alcohol, of friendship, of love
Gives away his voice to have legs and be with you. He doesn’t want to just listen to your songs—he wants to be the one you sing them to
Cruelly, you fall in love with someone else
His brother, in an attempt to save Kaeya, presents him with a dagger, saying if he is able to kill you then he’ll be able to return to the sea as a merman
But how can Kaeya kill the one he gave up everything for?
How can he even dare imagine hurting the one he loved with his entire being, that he would be willing to walk on glass everyday for?
Throws the dagger into the water. As the sun rises, he watches you, laughing together with your lover, as he melts into seafoam
And as much as it pains him, at least he can see you happy one last time
You don’t see him as he is carried away by the wind
“No matter what…I hope you live happily.”
Childe
Little Red Riding Hood
He’s the Big Bad Wolf, and you’re an herbalist making your deliveries of medicine to your patient in the forest
At first, he’s too nervous to approach you, afraid he would scare you away
But one day, when he sees you shivering from the frosted air, he steels himself enough to offer you his red scarf
The smile you gave him as you wrapped the scarf around yourself was almost enough to heal the years of loneliness from his isolation in the woods
The two of you become friends: Childe shows you all the best spots to pick herbs, and you tell him stories of the outside world
The villagers fear him, a man-eating beast, so he never ventures out of the forest
Childe loves the sound of your voice, and he loved listening to your stories, especially this one story about how the Sun and Moon were lovers in a tragedy, separated in the sky
Protects you from the hostile wild animals in the forest
When the two of you realize you were in love with each other, you made no haste in moving into his cozy cottage
But when the villagers realized their beloved herbalist was in the clutches of the detested wolf, they all swore you had been tricked
They stormed the forest, armed
You come back to your cottage from picking herbs, just in time to see the villagers point a rifle at him
Even with your skills, there is nothing you can do but cradle him in your arms as his blood stains the grass red
“C-Can you finish the rest of the story? I want to know…if the Sun and the Moon ever meet again.”
Zhongli
Sleeping Beauty
In the wild overgrowth once known as the country Liyue, there exists a legend of an almighty god who had fallen into a deep slumber
To save your country, you set out to search for this missing god
The terrain is harsh, overrun with trees and thistles and bushes blocking your every way
But occasionally, you will stumble upon a statue, vines and moss adorning the structure, helping you to believe that perhaps there really was a civilization who lived here in the past
The wild guides you up the cliffs, into a cave where you find a dragon sleeping, his breath slow and shallow
There was something so lonely, so sad about this sleeping dragon, trapped deep in the country of a long-gone civilization, only able to wait for someone to come
You put your hands on the sides of his face, and, as if to reward him for all his years of waiting and to tell him he is no longer alone, you kiss his forehead
The moment you do, his scales scatter away like droplets in a summer rainstorm
You were no longer holding a dragon, but cupping the face of a man
His eyelids fluttered open, revealing amber eyes that glowed like the moon in the darkness of the cave, and you knew you had found your missing god
“Oh…you have found me. How long I’ve been waiting for you.”
Xiao
Beauty and the Beast
With each passing day, Xiao can feel himself transforming more into a monster
The weight of his sins grew heavier and heavier, covering him with ashes and feathers
Soon, there were rumours of a half bird beast flying over the village at night, searching for its next meal
You, an orphan that had been treated as an outcast since birth, was chosen by the villagers to be the sacrifice to quell the beast’s anger and hunger
But after being brought to his decaying castle, Xiao makes it clear he has no interest in eating you
In fact, he gives you free reign in his home, allowing you to go wherever you pleased
At first, he tries to scare you, tries to get you to stay away from him
But when you see him feeding the chipmunks outside, and the songbirds feel safe enough around him to perch on his shoulders, you no longer feel afraid
The two of you slowly warm up to each other. Xiao’s favourite thing to do is listen to you read
When he can’t fall asleep at night from the pain, he asks you to read him stories so he can fall asleep to the sound of your soft voice
You come to realize he’s not a monster but a hurt, scared boy who only wants to wake up from this nightmare he’s been trapped in
The two of you enjoyed your peaceful life together, until one day a hero from your village stormed Xiao’s castle, determined to either save or take vengeance for you
Xiao, who flew over the village every night to make sure no danger came to the villagers, could not bring himself to defend himself from this naive boy
As you hold his still body, you kiss him goodbye
To both you and the hero’s shock, the feathers stabbed into Xiao’s body dispersed, swirling into the sky
The feathers kept flying away until the beast you were holding in your arms became human again
“You’ve awoken me from a terrifying dream. Thank you.”
-
please comment/reblog if you’ve enjoyed! <3
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ashsolar · 1 month
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so long, londonᯓ★ln4
-
inspired by so, long london by taylor swift.
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You both sat in silence, the living room dark just lit by fairy lights that were stuck to the wall by cheap cello tape. You knew your relationship was hanging from a thread. You two hadn't even gone on a date since months. You both knew that your relationship had come to an end months ago, you had grown apart. You knew Lando was done, done with the commitment. Your back hurt from carrying the pieces of your once blossoming relationship on your back. You missed pulling him into your embrace. While the stars lit the night sky, you two quietly swaying to a non-existent beat. It was none of yours fault, the only problem was that you both stopped trying, at least he did. You got tired of trying to make him laugh when he was down, you got sick and tired of waiting for him dressed in silk dresses, hair done, wearing the earrings he bought you for your birthday. Only for him to not even look at you and go to your shared bedroom. His back turned to you while you craved for warmth, warmth that only he could provide. You would pull him in tighter whenever he went for races. Your arms wrapped around him while he tried not not to touch you. Your heart would break whenever he rejected your hugs. He was drifting away. He left you alone at home. You would sit on your shared bed, your head cradled in your hands, crying softly. Your spine had split from carrying your relationship up the hill.
You both had another argument, about him never being there about him not trying anymore. You stood in the shower, hot water burning your skin but you couldn't care. Your head rested against the marble wall, mascara running down your face, your white silk dress stuck to your body like skin. You shivered, your bones caught the chill. You stopped, you stopped trying to make him happy, you stopped trying to fix the broken pieces of your relationship because he never tried.
You didn't know much sad he thought you had in you. You used to look at him with love and happiness in your eyes but now when you looked at him all that was there was sadness. This relationship was a tragedy. A tragedy you still wanted to work through.
You hadn't opted to be his punching bag, the one he would scream at when he was stressed, the one he would look at with hate. You found his phone once, text messages from some Portuguese model asking him to meet up. You looked her up found out she was a huge fan of the clothes you would spend hours designing, clothes you designed when you were waiting for Lando to come home. Isn't it funny the girl he was cheating on you with was a huge fan of your clothing brand. It was as if your relationship was a dying person, a person who was so far gone that even CPR couldn't bring your relationship back to life. The relationship wasn't even worth trying. Your relationship would never be the same again.
He took your youth away, he took memorable years of your life away from you, with broken promises, he manipulated you into staying in this dying relationship while he was out and about with a fake blonde.
The wounds he gave you, the wounds you tried to stitch back up by doing things you loved. They all had come undone and now you were lying on the floor, your heart hurting from all the pain you had experienced. You knew you would find someone who would love you like the way Lando used to, soon. At least you hoped.
You were done with him, you had your suitcases in hand. You walked out of your shared bedroom and saw Lando sitting on the couch, on his phone. Smiling. His smile faded away as soon as he laid his eyes on you. His usually cold eyes softened when he saw your eyes puffy, swollen, "Baby where are you going"
"I am leaving Lando, I can't do this anymore"
"You can't abandon me like this". He spoke, his harsh tone back.
"I never abandoned you, I went down with this stupid relationship, that I tried so hard to fix". You scoffed
"Don't do this".
You didn't look at him, you knew once you looked at him, you wouldn't leave. You would stay back with him and let yourself fall into oblivion again. You knew the resentment he now had for you but you couldn't care anymore. This relationship took your breath away, it felt rare for you to even be able to breathe.
You didn't think he'd move on so quickly, it had been a month since you both broke up and he was already going around with that blonde. You didn't have any sad left in you, your eyes couldn't even cry you a river anymore. You used up all your tears. You had no sad left in you.
Old photos of you and Lando surfaced on the internet. Your eyes were filled with tears, you finally had tears to cry. So you broke down. You bought your legs closer to your chest, gripping at your heart. He swore that he loved you but where were the clues. You died at the altar waiting for the proof.
𐙚
It had been years, since you and Lando had last seen each other. You never thought you would find someone who would love you. You almost lost hope but you were right to leave him and have a fresh start. All your hard work all the effort you put into your relationship paid off. You walked down the aisle, spotting your soon to be husband Carlos on the altar. You weren't standing on the altar alone, there was proof that the man you were now madly in love with was in love with you and that he would always love you. You never thought you'd be okay again but time and perseverance really does stitch your wounds back up. Even the wounds that once hurt us the most.
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unalivejournal · 6 months
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imagine a tumblr simulator set in the velvet goldmine universe lmfao
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🎹 wilderatz Follow
DNI if you still support br*an sl*de after the shooting hoax. what he did was fucking unacceptable and pathetic. the panic and heartbreak on the dashboard that day was absolutely traumatizing. and the fact that it was all for cheap publicity makes it even more despicable. if you HAVE to listen to his records the least you could do is buy them secondhand
#so glad curt never cut that record with him
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⭐️ glittersisgay
i got new boots! seeing the flaming creatures tonight :-) life is good
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👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼 wildemons Follow
sorry but the sladewild narrative is CRAAAAZY. like imagine you start off as a nobody performer and becoming enthralled by this rockstar after he shows up your act and you end up becoming famous by being inspired by his stage presence AND YOU BECOME FAMOUS ENOIGH TO GO TO AMERICA AND MEET THIS GUY AND YOUR LABELS START FABRICATING A RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN U TWO TO GENERATE PUBLICITY FOR YOUR NEW ALBUM BUT THEN YOU ACTUALLY FALL IN LOVE AND HAVE TO KEEP IT A SECRET BUT THEN THE PAPARAZZI FINDS OUT AND YOU HAVE A HUGE FALLING OUT BUT THEN A FEW WEEKS LATER YOURE SPOTTED IN THE CROWD AT THE DEATH TO GLITTER SHOW
♻️ 🦷 roxytunes Follow
lmfao WHAT are you talking about. swear to god i’m sick of you invasive freaks trying to make things up about real peoples lives. the part about the labels trying to market slade and wild as a couple isn’t even true. yes they were heavily publicized as close friends but they never admitted to being in a relationship. also receipts on brian being at the death to glitter show???? stop spreading false information
♻️ 👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼 wildemons Follow
anyways watch out for my new sladewild maxwell demon tour era fic that will be published in my next zine 💋
#my mutual was literally next to him in the crowd.
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🪩 girlboydragdemon
at the Sombrero Club with the glamrocktuals YAYYYY
♻️ 🪩 girlboydragdemon
Hangover.
#we may have made. mistakes. #also we think brian slade’s former manager was in the booth behind us
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🌟 venusinpurrs
♻️ 🎸 balladofmaxwellsemen Follow
WHY ARE WE PITTING THREE BAD BITCHES AGAINST EACH OTHER
♻️🌟 venusinpurrs
better question WHY ARE VENUS IN FURS LOSING GUYS CMON ITS OBVIOUSLY THE RATS
♻️🌟 venusinpurrs
do you people hate dykes
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💋 jack-fairy-fan51 Follow
Anyone else feel like this Tommy stone guy showed up out of nowhere?
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❇️ 20th-cxntury-bxy
Well…. it’s been a fun time on the road with Malcolm & co. (@/theflamingcreatures) but in the months following the hoax and the death to glitter tribute I’ve been feeling more and more inclined to move on. idk. i know there’s still an active tumblr community but in the real life scene it feels like everyone’s just…. given up. I’ll be starting a new job soon and won’t have a lot of time to post. Might delete this blog in the near future. remember to support local shows and keep being yourself
#a.journal
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👨‍🎤 lipstickkissedelbowglove
word on the street is that mandy slade divorced brian???? lmao get his ass
♻️👨‍🎤 lipstickkissedelbowglove
[#finally i have a chance with her]
you’re funny if you think any of us on this site have an inkling of a chance with her
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🎸 balladofmaxwellsemen Follow
Just found this on the sidewalk. does anyone know what it is?
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itsthewritergal · 5 months
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Five Dates - B.Barnes x reader
Summary: Bucky got the wrong end of the stick and might have fucked things up for good.
TW: Sex work, swearing, Bucky being judgmental, talk about sex, talk about porn, no smut but it is mentioned. angst. (let me know if I've missed anything) - it's not proof read... so I'm sorry!!
(If you like it please tip me and help to support me as a creator :))
Five dates. Bucky had to remind himself that he and Y/N had only been on five dates. He felt as though he had known her for his whole life, almost as if Y/N bought his old self back to the surface. Five dates, he shook his head as a reminder, she knew a lot of his life but not nearly everything. It was only five dates, he took a deep breath as Y/N studied the dessert menu, 
“Brownie or cheesecake?” She asked softly, her forehead crinkling as she tried to decide, 
“Either’s fine with me” Bucky said, he’d go with anything she chose just to see her smile. But she wasn’t smiling, instead she had placed the menu down on the table and looked at Bucky with sad eyes, 
“Buck?” She said softly 
“Y/N?” He mirrored in the same tone 
“Could you please say what you would prefer? You’ve let me pick at the last two places” She huffed 
“I’m sorry Y/N, you know I just want to see you happy” He said softly picking up one of her hands, 
“Please pick?” She asked, looking up at Bucky with pleading eyes, he pressed a kiss to her hand and nodded 
“Lets go brownie” Bucky said, knowing that he would definitely prefer the cheesecake, or just some ice cream but Y/N loved chocolate so naturally he leaned towards that option. 
“Perfect!” Y/N beamed calling over the waitress and asking for the dessert, Bucky smiled as she did so. He truly was in love. 
Bucky stopped outside Y/N’s apartment door, he had argued for her to let him walk her home after she had refused because it would be too late for Bucky to get home to his own apartment, knowing it was at least an hour walk. But of course, Bucky had refused and wanted to make sure Y/N was safe. 
“Would you like to come in?” She asked softly, holding on to Bucky’s hand, looking up at him with tired eyes, 
“You’re tired doll, you need some sleep” Bucky said gently, “Go to bed, and I can call you in the morning” 
“What if you stayed over? We could watch a movie and I can sleep on the sofa so you don’t need to feel uncomfortable. It’s late and I’ll feel awful if you have to walk home now” She said, watching Bucky hopefully “of course if it would make you uncomfortable we don’t have to” She said quickly 
“I’d love that doll, and we can share the bed too if you’re comfortable, or I can take the sofa, it’s only fair?” He suggested, the thought of Y/N sleeping on the sofa physically hurting his heart, a sensation he wasn’t used to. 
“Let’s share, it’ll be like a sleepover! Ooh I think I have some snacks too” She beamed tiredly leading Bucky into her apartment. 
Bucky stepped inside slowly following Y/N’s lead, it smelt like vanilla, and sugar, warm lighting flooded the room as Y/N turned on her fairy lights and lamps. It wasn’t big, just two rooms really, Bucky knew it was only a small apartment so he wasn’t expecting much but the moment he stepped inside he could already picture himself living there. 
“My room is just through there, I’ll get us some snacks if you want to pick a movie? Remote is on the bed” She smiled pressing a kiss to Bucky’s cheek, a move that she hadn’t done before and one that made Bucky’s heart squeeze with joy, 
“Sure you don’t need help?” He asked, wanting to soak up every possible moment he could with Y/N
“No, go get comfy and I’ll be there in a second” She said
— 
Bucky did as he was told and took himself through to Y/N’s bedroom which was exactly how he had imaged, a soft pink blanket lay over her white silk sheets, a couple of house plants sat on the windowsill soaking up the moonlight. Y/N’s bedroom was totally normal apart from two big cinema cameras pointed towards the bed.  Bucky felt his whole word collapse the second he registered what they were. Sam had told him about this, a few months back but Bucky remembers the whole conversation. Sam had told him about ways many people had started making money, and Bucky couldn’t believe that Y/N was attempting to make Bucky help her with it. He knew that there would be an ‘adult’ market for those type of films including him, he had seen enough tweets, texts and had been sent enough letters to know there was a large following of women who wanted to know more about how he was in the bedroom particularly. It made him feel sick. Y/N was using him. She was using him for his body. Squaring out his shoulders he gripped his jacket tight and headed back out into her lounge. 
“Y/N, I’ve got to run. Sam just texted, he needs me over there. Some kind of emergency. I’m so sorry” He lied smoothly, knowing that Y/N wouldn’t see through it, he was too good for that. 
“Oh” She sighed, her sad eyes almost made Bucky regret his decision until he remembered what she was trying to do. “Do you need me to come with you? Is Sam okay?” She asked quickly, 
“No, it’s fine. I just really need to go” Bucky said, stepping closer to the door “I had a nice night, but I just don’t think this is going to work, I’m not feeling this. I should go.” He suggested knowing that the moment he was on his way to Sam’s he’d block her number.
“I understand, I’ll see you around I guess?” She said wrapping her arms around herself as she watched Bucky leave her apartment
Setting off on a run he headed straight to Sam’s. 
“You’re kidding” Sam said with a laugh as he passed Bucky a beer, “She was a porn-star?” He chuckled 
“It’s not funny, I think she wanted to get me to do a video with her” He said with a huff 
“Well you know there’s a big market for winter soldier porn, do you remember that women who sent you her panties” Sam laughed “To be honest, from the photos she sent you should have taken her up on those offers” He said with a grin, Bucky knew he was teasing 
“Don’t be crude” Bucky said, hating the way this conversation was going “I don’t have a problem with it, if she does do it, but trying to get me to do it with her?” He sighed,
“Do you think she’s really was trying to?” Sam asked seriously taking a sip of his beer 
“It was all set up for it, mood lighting, background all perfectly set and the fucking camera’s Sam! IT makes sense now why she would never tell me about her work” Bucky said, 
“Let’s google her, I bet her videos will come up. We can see what she’s like, and maybe you could join in” Sam said with a wink. Pulling up his laptop and typing in her name. 
After a few quick clicks Sam’s face fell 
“Is it bad?” Bucky questioned 
“You are a dick” 
“What?” Bucky asked feeling instantly defensive at Sam’s accusatory tone 
“She’s not a fucking porn star you idiot. She’s a influencer” Sam said turning the laptop around and showing Bucky Y/N’s YouTube page, hundreds of videos showed up of her chatting to the camera, and sitting doing her makeup. 
“An influencer?” 
“Yes, you really screwed up there Buck. She looks like the most wholesome girl out there” Sam said clicking onto a video. 
“Hello my loves, welcome back to my channel.” Sam skipped forward in the video “What is your love life like? Well that’s a very good question, that finally has a more exciting answer, I have actually met someone, it’s very early days and we’ve only been on two dates so far, but oh he’s so wonderful!” She beamed, Bucky could practically feel his heart dropping as he heard her gushing about him 
“Sam, how do I fix this?” He asked, pulling out his phone 
“I think you need to explain what’s happened” He said “I mean she might not want to hear you out, sounds like you were kind of a dick” Sam admitted 
“Not helping” Bucky said pressing on her number, the phone call rung a few times, and then stopped 
“Hello?” Y/N’s voice said through the phone, she sounded upset, Bucky hated it 
“Hey Y/N, it’s Bucky” he said quickly 
“Is everything ok?” She asked, her tone was curt something Bucky wasn’t used to from her 
“Can I come over?” 
“Bucky I’m really not in the mood right now” She said honestly 
“I fucked up”
“What are you talking about?” 
“Please can I come over?” He asked 
“I guess” She said quietly, 
“I’ll be there in fifteen” 
Bucky sat on Y/N’s sofa, his jacket and shoes still on. Y/N had made him a coffee and was sat away from him on one of her beanbags, 
“I’m so sorry Y/N” He said 
“What’s going on Bucky?” She asked 
“I saw the cameras and thought you were a” he coughed, still not used to the modern open way of talking about porn “a porn-star” he said 
“So what if I am” She challenged,
“I thought you were trying to use me for a video, there’s a um, well there’s a demand for it” He said “I get a few letters a month from women who want to see, uh who, want to see that” he stammered 
“You thought I was using you?” She said 
“I did, and I went to Sam and we, well we googled you” 
“So you know I’m not a porn star then? Just a boring old influencer” She huffed crossing her arms 
“I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions” 
“No you shouldn’t have, I thought you’d know me well enough to know I wouldn’t use you” She snapped 
“I was wrong and I’m so sorry” he said quickly “Please Y/N give me another chance” 
“One more Bucky, and I’m going to show you every single paper that I can find on why sex work is real work, I understand that you’re not used to it. But that doesn’t mean you can be that judgemental about it” 
“I swear I will read everything you give me” Bucky said 
“One more chance” she said 
“You won’t regret it” Bucky promised. 
337 notes · View notes
del-thetiredwriter · 3 months
Text
Pomegranates
— So here’s a one shot. Beware my English. Not exactly like greek mythology.
Toga: the loose outer garment worn in public by citizens of Ancient Rome.
Warnings: mentions of death, Ancient Greek timeline, God of dead Idia , gn reader , mythological theme…
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First he turned right, then left around the corner... A groan came from the blue-haired boy, who was looking for the exit from the walls formed by blue rose bushes.
“Ahh, I think I'm lost!” he groaned.
They say curiosity killed the cat, and Ortho succumbed to his curiosity.
His brother used to come to this garden regularly every day, but no one was allowed to enter the garden except his brother. No matter how much Ortho asked his brother, no matter how much he insisted, his brother would still not let him enter the garden and would not tell him what he was doing in the garden.
Ortho took the opportunity of his brother going to Olympos and secretly entered the garden and got lost.
He had come to a crossroads again. While he was nervously thinking which one he should choose, a voice distracted him.
"Who are you?"
Ortho turned around in panic. He didn't expect to see a soul staring at him with a dull expression.
“Oh, hello.” said Ortho timidly.
He was frightened by the piercing gaze of the person in front of him.
"Who are you? And what are you doing here?”
The spirit approached him.
“Well, I'm Ortho… and I'm actually lost.”
The soul raised an eyebrow.
“Don't you know that you should not enter this labyrinth, child? You're lucky, come with me and let's get you out of here."
The sprit took his hand and they wandered back and forth through the maze of trees and bushes.
The sprit did not speak. So there was an awkward silence. There was only the rustle of the grass they were stepping on.
“Um I guess you know the maze pretty well?”
Ortho asked to lighten the mood. But the spirit did not answer.
“Do you live in this labyrinth? What is your name? How long have you been here? Who are you?.."
He started asking questions repeatedly.
The spirit finally spoke.
“But you turned out to be talkative. Unlike you, he can't even put two words together properly." They said in a whisper.
Finally the spirit stopped. They reached a door. To the entrance of the labyrinth.
"We came. Don't even think about coming here again. You were lucky this time that I found you, but you may not be so lucky next time."
They let go of Ortho's hand. The blue haired boy started walking towards the door. When he reached the doorway, he stopped and turned around.
“Can you at least tell me your name?”
The spirit looked at him expressionlessly.
“What will you do if you know? After all, we won't see each other again. Anyway, my name is Y/n and don't ever come here again.”
This was the first encounter between Ortho and the spirit named Y/n.
“Y/N! Where are you !"
Ortho had entered the garden again. He wanted to talk again to the spirit that showed him the way when he got lost during his first entry.
That spirit was different. Normally souls come to the underworld after death. Depending on their life on Earth, they would be sent to Elysium, the Fields of Asphodel, or the Fields of Punishment. However, this soul was in his brother's garden...
He was going around random turns, screaming your name. And in the end, he arrived at a place like a garden, without even knowing how he did it.
“Y/n!”
As soon as he saw you, he ran to you with excitement.
You were lying on a sofa with lots of cushions and pillows. There was a flowing river right next to it, and many flowers and trees around it...This place looked just like the riverside in the forest where the protagonists of Ortho's favorite fairy tale met.
You opened your eyes slightly.
"You again? Didn't I tell you not to come here again?" You scolded Ortho.
“But look, I found you. And this place is beautiful.” Ortho said as he approached you.
"Beautiful? Phew! Is this place beautiful? “You said curtly.
“Yes, look, it's very nice. There are roses, magnolias, grapes… and oh, pomegranates too! I love pomegranates, how about you? “ said the child while plucking the pomegranate from its branch.
“I used to love…” said the soul bitterly.
“Umm, shall I tell you a story?” said Ortho to digress.
The spirit did not answer, but Ortho accepted it as a yes and sat down on the sofa next to the spirit.
Once upon a time, there was a lonely king. This king was smart and strong, but he was also lonely. He had no friends or family... Anyway, one day, the king disguised himself and mingled with people, and a person caught his attention. This person was not very beautiful, very smart or perfect, but something attracted the king to this person. After that, the king started to watch this person constantly. Their daily routine, what they eats, what they likes, what they does...
One day the king could not stand it and went to the forest where that person lived. He wanted to see them closer.
You went down to the stream to get water. As you started filling the buckets with water, you felt a pair of eyes watching you. When you looked around, you saw someone with blue hair and a black toga watching you from afar.
“Hey young master, are you lost?” You called out.
The man looked around, frightened and not knowing what to do.
You moved towards him.
“Young master, are you lost?” You asked again.
“Oh um…I-“
You smiled.
“You seem to be a high-ranking person, what is someone like you doing in this forest?” You said.
The blue-haired man was mumbling something, but nothing could be understood.
“I'm Y/n, I live in this forest. Would you like to come to my house? “ You suggested. You haven't had any guests in a long time, in fact you never had.
"O-okey.” The young man said in panic.
"How nice. By the way, what was your name?”
“Idia”
From that day on, the king started to visit that person, always hiding his true identity. The king was happy, but his happiness did not last long. One day, a seer came to visit the king.
“You are not in that person's destiny, God of the Dead Idia. They have different life cycles in their thread of destiny. However, if you want, I can give you the thread. If you cut the thread, their fate will be like an unclear water. You can shape it the way you want and even be completely you in their destiny. ” said the god of prophecy. And he handed the thread to Idia.
Idia hesitantly took the thread. Could he really cut this thread, which symbolizes the happy future of his beloved, because of his own greed? But if he cut it, he would be the fate of his beloved.
Idia would visit the mortal you every day but that week he didn’t.He locked himself in his room and just thought about what he should do with the thread.
And the king finally gave in to his greed and cut the thread.
“Oh Idia, where have you been? I was very scared that something bad had happened.” You said while hugging him.
You were very worried when you didn't hear from him for a week.
“I brought pomegranates. From my own garden.” Idia said as he handed you a basket full of pomegranates.
“You are forgiven. I like pomegranates.”
After that, Idia started bringing you pomegranates every time he came. The pomegranate was Delicious, juicy, sweet... but slowly your health began to deteriorate. Headaches, coughing blood, nightmares... You only felt good when you were with Idia.
But how could you know that the pomegranates are from the underworld’s garden? If a god or a spirit eats it, nothing will happen, but if a human eats it... they start to die slowly. First headaches and nightmares, then they begin to see spirits that humans cannot see, and eventually they die.
-
“Agh!” You screamed in pain. Your heart was tightening and it hurt like crazy, like you were being stabbed.
Idia came running to you.He had a dark liquid in his hand. Pomegranate juice.
“Y/n, are you okay, are you having an attack again?” He helped you get up. He placed you on your bed.
“Oh gods,” you groaned.
“Here, drink some. It will make you feel better..” Idia said and handed you pomegranate juice.
“No… no I don't want to.” You said.
“Come on, for your health.” insisted Idia.
“Just one sip.”
Idia helped you drink. It was sour. Then you couldn't breathe and you closed your eyes. You dropped the glass full of pomegranate juice. It was spilled on you.It looked just like blood.
You were dead.
"I am sorry…I'm sorry for loving you. But I had to. I’m sorry, Y/n.” Idia said with a shaky voice and hugged your dead body.
“Then they lived happily ever after .” said Ortho and finished the story.
"How was it? It’s good isn’t it? This is my favorite fairy tale. My brother told me.” Said Ortho
But Y/n didn't answer.
“Come on, it's late, let's take you back.” Said the Spirit.
“So early?” The boy whined. He took the spirit's hand and they moved towards the exit under the soul’s leadership.
“Um Y/n I was going to ask you something. Will you come to us tomorrow? I don't know if I'll find you next time.” said Ortho innocently.
“No…I'm sorry Ortho, but I can't leave this garden, but if you want to come again, come with your brother.” Said the Spirit sadly, as if something tying them to this garden.
And they said goodbye again.
-
“So? How was your day?" Idia asked his little brother.
“Good, as I said before, I made a new friend. There I was with them and I told them my favorite story." Ortho explained with excitement.
“Is that so…by the way, what was your friend's name?”
Idia asked.
“It’s Y/n.”
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