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#but again. please do yourself a favour and try not to look utterly stupid about something you only half understand appearently
a-s-levynn · 4 months
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About those new masks..
So i saw this take a few times already and i have some thoughts. Obviously it's paraphrasing but you'll see these a lot similar to this if you scroll in ST spaces since yesterday:
"These new masks have too much personality, they said the people behind the music is uniportant but they now have this new personalized look instead of the uniform sleek minimalist one and it is the direct opposite of what they are saying. These new looks do not fit Sleep Token"
Let me preface this: I'm not going to explore specific reasons why people might hate on the masks because... No i refuse to go there, but i will talk about the issues i have around this a bit.
No.
If you are hating on the new masks so much so as to cry about that "this is not what they supposed to be about" you are missing your own point. You are in fact shooting the opposite direction. You are no longer in it for "just the music" but you are very much caught upon the "everything else beside the music." You got distracted. You putting the blame on them instead on yourself for loosing your own point.
There is no moral highground in this whole ordeal. Please respect yourself enought to try not to look utterly stupid if you frothing about something you visibly misunderstood. Do not hide behind excuses. Do not put this on the artists. Own up to the fact that you simple don't like it.
Admit that it's your opinion purely; because ultimately the artist creating their own art will understand creative choices behind their creations more than you ever will. No matter how far you try to bend backwards.
The masks fit Sleep Token because it is Sleep Token who decided to have them. End of story. You can hate it all you want but it is still part of the shabang now. And don't try to mask your distaste over visuals with shouting about the artist not understanding their own ideology.
If you are so hung up on how they look like, more than what the music still is, than stop and think for a second please.. You have it backwards. If you really truly only care about the music, what it is about, what it gives you, than you are not going to give a shit what they are wearing on stage.
Maybe in a passing few sentences but otherwise you are not going to be worked up about it to the point you sent hatecomments to the artist who made them.. It is shameful.
Besides i hate to break it to people but they already had their personalities with their outfits just not this strongly. III had the random whacky shit. IV had the hint's of this comfy leisurly punk-ish techwear whatever going on besides the fancy stuff the past a months since the summer. II had a slightly sleeker but maybe sort of tech-ish look which is now reflected (in my opinion) much more strongly with this new look (which sorta reminds me of a stylized oni or something tbh and that is extremely in line with their older far-east inspired thematics visually, just saying).
They are not handing you the "we are unimportant" part anymore. They are not spoonfeeding it to you. Not in the way they had before at least. They presume you are mature and smart enough at this point to get it. To get to the conclusion that it is unimportant what they look like. And allow them to still have fun with it.
Or just they are being cheeky and went for something that would shake up the people. I don't know, i don't know them or anyone close to them. I don't have answers. But they are trying something new an it is perfectly fine.
Also which would have come off so much differently if Vessel is 100% btw. Be honest, if they would have been able to perform to their fullest abilities, far less people would be so loud over this.. This was just an unfortunate turn of events and when shit hits the fan it usually never just one dose. And my heart breaks for the boys for all this.
Besides, people were so loud about hating that "they looked the same" and "so hard to distinguish" and "easy to replace because of this" ... now they have personalized masks and looks and the same people cry about the exact opposite they did before..
Also it just occured to me that this is basically the same as the lightshow upgrade. It gives you something to look at at the rituals. The new looks are visually interesting, and with the lighting setup they have now they are gonna look like some seriously fun nightmare creatures btw. I love that already.
So all in all i don't know, i don't really have a point here i guess, but the boys are in such a no win situation right now and i hate the fact that people are shitting on them just because they don't fit their idea of "an anonymous collective" anymore. Which is reddiculous and sad because nothign has changed.
It never was about being a blank page. It was about being human. It flies over so many peoples head but the anonymity part isn't about not being a person under there. It is being about that person not having a name. It doesn't matter if the person has a personality or not. What matter there is that no name.
There is no definitiveness. It gives an open invitation for anyone to step into that person but first you need to recognise that there is a person there. And there is no doing that if there are no traces of personality. Or humanity if you will because personalities makes us humans. Don't make me hold a philosophy lecture here on what it means being human please.
It does not matter who that individual it is by tagging a name on them. But it is extremely important that there is a person there. Otherwise there is no connection point. If there is no person there is nothing to understand. But it does not matter how that person looks like. It does not matter what the person wears. Or what that person is called. What matters is that it is a human being. And as such you can understand it. Our at least you should be able to.
Regardless of the design of a mask.
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more cursed thoughts...
Hey, so I totally love that we’re all losing our collective minds about the Jensen “solo gold panel on Saturday” Ackles recently…but…has anyone stopped to consider how much of a train-wreck that’s going to be?!
(Below the cut for my long winded thoughts on this...)
The man hasn’t done a solo panel in a while – not in front of a live audience, and he’s not good at them to start with (again, this is nothing against my boy, it’s simply a fact), at least not when he’s sober (and in most cases, even when he’s not!).  He doesn’t like being thrown to the wolves on his own, and you’re fucking lying if you don’t consider yourself a wolf…He gets bitchy when he's asked stupid questions, or questions he can’t or isn’t allowed to answer, and he doesn't handle it well - and he’s going to shut down so fast the moment someone gets through with a Post-Confession question – he’s still not going to choose a side, if you think the boy will alienate a whole side of the fandom to choose a side, you’re wrong.  From a PR standpoint alone, that would be suicide.   I know that we like to live in our little bubble over here (and I will gladly sit in it and manifest along with you) but, regardless of how you cut this, a solo panel is going to be torturous for him.  Everyone is over here, ‘we’re gonna get answers out of Jackles’, my dudes, my friends, my people….no, you’re not, and then you’re going to be even MORE MAD – please please do me a favour and do not HOPE for Jackles to take a stand... It’s not cowardly, and it’s not meant as a slight to either side of the fandom – it’s simply in his best interest to NOT Draw the utter Vitriolic Hatred he would receive by definitively throwing down on either side (even though I’m pretty certain we all know what side that would be).  I understand we want a definitive answer, I really really do, but I cannot bear the idea of him being utterly bastardized if he doesn’t say “yes, it’s reciprocated, Dean loves Cas, you weren’t fucking crazy” verbatim...
More bits and pieces I feel crazy about: 
- Him not speaking about Destiel at cons is NOT his fault, it is Creation’s, please lay your blame in the right place, he’s simply following the rules; and you can be sore about that, but you can’t deny it. The fact that Misha has been talking about it recently is great, but they have not been Creation cons, so let’s all hold our thoughts on that until then...
- If you think that Jensen is unaware of Misha’s chaos, you are nuts, he knows, he approves, and he’s happy to let Misha carry it out.  He’s still liking social media posts, he’s clearly not mad at Misha, which to me, specifically, speaks to the fact that he knows about these posts prior to them being made. Misha would never antagonize Jensen - never intentionally place him in a situation he wouldn’t be comfortable with...please remember that...
- Jackles SM silence speaks louder than words - guys, we know this; it always has - he is CALCULATED - he is NOT ACTIVE on SM!! (AND) He specifically stays away from the thirst traps (the fact that he liked Misha’s bloody shirt post was a shocking anomaly not the norm), and let’s be fair - Misha also does not partake in liking the JA traps (however few and far between they are...3am bathroom selfies for example?).  I would bet my -(ok i have nothing of value, but if i did, I would bet it)- that this is also something that they agreed on together...because it’s actually SO LOUD.
- I said that it would be PR suicide for him to choose a side, and I understand that people are like “so what? he needs to decide where he stands here, and his PR should not take precedence over this” - why?...Because I guarantee you’re about to sound very childish.  He is an actor, in his mid-40′s, trying to accelerate his career after spending 15 years dedicating his life to one show (!) - his SM following (which nearly doubles the following of JPad or Misha, if we look at IG), and his public image are INSANELY important to him. Especially now...Drama is NOT what he needs right now - launching a new production company, acting in a new role, planning a new SPN related show...PR suicide would be disastrous. Chaos? absolutely, Drama? no.  
- We are NOT J2 fans...but guys, HE is part of that side (whether or not he WANTS to be, doesn’t change the fact), regardless of how you break it down.  He is the only member of the group that is SOLIDLY in both sides of the fandom (which, let’s be honest, probably plays a major role in his higher SM following), and he will be utterly CRUCIFIED by one side of the fandom REGARDLESS of where he comes down. It will be bloody, and it will be awful.  Misha has the freedom to say and do what he wants without risking ANY of his fans...and we love him for it, and so does J...*shrug* please do the math here...
Look, I get that no one wants to hear that, and I would LOVE NOTHING MORE than for him to walk out on stage, say – “Yes, it’s reciprocated, now that that’s out of the way, let’s get this fucking show on the road, who’s up?” I want it so badly I can taste it, and I do think that he has hinted at that particular stance a number of times, but I’m soooooo gun-shy about hoping for that possibility to become reality, I cannot in any universe believe that it will happen.  He’s naturally sooooo careful, so pointedly silent on the topic (outside of a few slips over the years), I’m certain that expecting anything less than that would be the definition of insanity for the fandom at this stage.  I will drop dead right here if he ends it spectacularly – I will GLADLY be proven wrong (please, please prove me wrong - get Mish on stage and lay one on him - DO IT), I just don’t want to see Jackles hate if he doesn’t…and that’s the piece I’m scared of, because I can already see the train heading for the brick wall on this...
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harrysweasleys · 3 years
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know-it-all // g.w
summary: Could you please write a fluffy fic about George and a Ravenclaw reader arguing about an answer on an exam or an assignment. And in the end it turns out George was right. And I would love it if you could include the exchange, "Don't say it!" "I told you so." "I said don't say it."
warnings: mentions of food
word count: 1.7k
a/n: i am back with my twin fics! woah! it’s been a while, sorry about that. life has been wild and i didn’t have much motivation but here we go! i hope you all enjoy!! x
[i do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other platform!]
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For what felt like the billionth time of that afternoon, you dropped your head onto the table and let your forehead smack against the solid wooden surface. You could feel different sets of eyes peering in your direction from other tables in the library, all silently questioning what was wrong with you. 
The answer was simple: Potions.
Snape had set out a stupid assignment that, to be completely fair, was way out of your league. For every time you thought he was an awful professor, he sunk remarkably lower. 
The topic of said assignment was one that you guys hadn’t even covered yet, and given by Snape’s tone of voice when a student had brought that very point up in class, he really couldn’t care less. It didn’t help that you were already ridiculously occupied with other end-of-year assignments — you didn’t want to get stuck teaching yourself a whole new branch of potion-making as well. You were barely sleeping nights and only showed up to dinner every second day, the library study hours becoming your very best friend. 
It was just a lot. 
It also didn’t help that you could see the golden rays of the sunlight pouring in through the dusty library window, signalling that it was once again the end of the day, and tomorrow, bright and early, you’d be handing in the assignment that you were nearly certain you’d botched. 
Dinner was likely being prepared in the Great Hall right about now, the wonderful smell of roast potatoes and pumpkin juice running through your mind, but you honestly weren’t up to eating. You were feeling rather down in the dumps, forehead still pressed against the wooden table, and your mind reeling around the assignment.
“You look like you could use some assistance.”
You lifted your gaze, sure that there was now a bright red spot on your forehead, and glared over at George, who had just taken the seat across from you at the table. His grin was wide but his eyes were tired — you knew he was busy working on assignments of his own, as well his summer plans for opening the shop. Yet somehow he always found time to help you. 
He tilted his head to the side when you gave him an exhausted stare, blinking rapidly before you processed his question. 
“Do you remember doing this last year?” you asked, sliding over the assignment paper, giving a small cough to clear your dry throat. George, being in the year ahead of you, had quite the knack for Potions. He liked to say it was because it was just utterly fascinating and he was a purely, genuinely, naturally gifted student, but you knew he only did so well because he’s been brewing his own disastrous concoctions since he was a young boy. With practice comes skill, you always said. 
And you prayed to Merlin that said skill would come in handy right about now. 
His eyes scanned the paper and he gave a small shake of his head, “No, but I think you’ve got this wrong. You wrote Leech Juice here, but I’m pretty sure the answer is actually Acromantula Venom.”
You frowned, snatching the paper back from him — making him flinch and take a quick look at his fingers for any paper cuts — and stared down at your answer, “What? No. The obvious answer is Leech Juice. This was the only question I understood. I know the answer to this one, it’s the others that I can’t seem to figure out.”
He raised an eyebrow, “It’s Acromantula Venom, darling. That I know for sure.”
Though you were grateful for his presence and the fact that he was willing to help, you knew he was wrong about that one. Any first year could tell the answer was Leech Juice. But you didn’t feel like arguing with him any more than necessary with time running low, so you just gave your paper back and frowned.
“Can you help me with any of these? Professor Snape hasn’t said a single thing about any of these topics, and I’m sick of flipping through book after book, not even sure what I’m looking for,” you let out a sigh, “It feels like he’s purposefully setting us up for failure,” you muttered the last part under your breath, not wanting anyone other than George to hear your complaints.
His hand reached across the table and linked with yours, his soft fingers calming down the rapid, stressed-out beating of your heart, and gave you a small smile, “If he hasn’t taught you this, I’m sure that you’re not the only one having a hard time.”
You groaned, trying to pull your hand out of his, unfortunately failing as his grip was stronger than yours. 
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” you said, voice low, “I don’t want to fail, even if everyone else does. That’ll always show up on my reports.”
He pursed his lips, giving you a small nod, “Alright, I get that. Why don’t you take a break? We’ll go eat, and then finish this up later, yeah? You can head over to the Common Room with me after dinner, I doubt anyone will say anything.”
A sigh left your lips as you began to place your parchment and books into a pile, George grabbing your ink bottle and quill — which had kindly left little indents in your hand due to aggressive use — and the two of you began to make your way to the Great Hall. 
After leaving the library, you could feel a weight lifted off of your shoulders. As if the tense study environment that you had felt stuck in had now been leeched away from you. As if you could now think clearly. You gave George a small smile, thankful that he arrived when he did. 
Merlin, why was sixth year so difficult? If it wasn’t for George’s calmness and sanity, you’d probably be a melted mess of failed papers and shining blue robes on the floor. 
As you made your way into the Hall, heading towards the Ravenclaw table, George pressed a kiss to your forehead and muttered, “Acromantula Venom,” against your skin, shooting you a wink before he made off to his own house table. 
You gave a small scowl, mouthing “Leech Juice” right back at him. 
— —
“Oh, well, now would you look at that,” George grinned, looking down at the assignment you were shoving in his face. A bright smile donned your lips as you flashed the score, a bright red E. 
Exceeds Expectations. 
It wasn’t the O — Outstanding — that you were hoping for, but Merlin, did the E feel good. That meant you had done better than Snape was expecting — and better than a majority of the class, by the looks of it. They had all walked out with solemn faces and shoved their papers in their bags as quickly as possible. Even the Slytherin girl who sat behind you, the one who always bragged about perfect grades and how much Snape favoured her, had left without saying a word. That fact alone really boosted your pride. 
“No thanks to your brilliant boyfriend,” George gave himself a pat on the back, giving you your now-crumpled paper. 
“Oh, sod off,” you gave him a nudge in the shoulder as you sat down on the couch next to him, the Gryffindor common room rather silent for this early in the evening. Despite being a Ravenclaw, passing students didn’t mind your presence in their house. After three years of dating George and always being in the space, they barely even noticed the blue of your tie amongst the red ones anymore. 
“Wait, what’s this?” George rapidly snatched the paper out of your hands — revenge for when you did it to him, most likely — and his eyes lingered on question number four, “Oh, well, would you look at that?”
You scowled, crossing your arms over your chest in preparation for his comment, “Don’t say it.”
His grin was so wide, you swore his cheeks would split, “You got Leech Juice wrong! And right here, scribbled in Snape’s hardly-legible writing, what does that say? It looks like A-Acro-,” 
“Don’t,” you didn’t meet his eyes, a sour expression on your face as George rubbed it in. 
“I told you so,” he leaned forwards, pressing a light kiss against your temple, arm slinging around you to bring you against his body. His warmth radiated through his sweater and it wasn’t helping the pettiness you were feeling in your chest. 
“I said don’t say it,” you grumbled, snapping your head away from him and staring at the blank brick wall next to the fireplace. His laugh vibrated through your body, and it took everything in you not to turn around and laugh with him. 
He placed one of his hands under your chin and turned your gaze to meet his, “Come on, I’m only playing. I’m proud of you, and I knew you’d do well. You were worried for nothing.”
“It wasn’t for nothing!” you flailed your arms, letting them fall on your lap, “He sprung this out of the blue. Of course I was worried.”
“And you did brilliantly,” he pressed another kiss to your temple, sparks fluttering across your skin as his loving touch, “You always do, my brilliant little witch.”
You cracked.
A small smile made its way onto your lips as you leaned into his touch, loving the feeling of being close to him. And it felt even sweeter knowing that you hadn’t failed — that this was a victory hug. 
“Love you,” he mumbled against your hand, bringing your knuckles up to his lips and pressing a kiss on each one. You leaned your head on his shoulder, bringing your lips to his neck to mumble the same words against his skin. 
A victory. 
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drwcn · 3 years
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《 Without Envy 》 storyboard 10 - concubine/sleeper agent!wwx & prince!lwj
Other snippets and storyboards can be found on [Master List]
Exactly 851 days - 2 years, 4 months and 11 days - after Wei Wuxian arrived at Gusu and began his mission as a sleeper agent, he was activated.
That chilly morning, he walked into the pastry shop - a front maintained by a decade-long Wen spy - a walk he'd done hundred of times on hundreds of mornings since he arrived. He breezed past the packaging counter, skipped through the faded cotton drapes, and rounded behind the back staircase to the room where Xue Yang always waited for him. Only this time, it was not just his candy-obsessed, murder-happy shidi, but a face he hadn't seen in many, many months. "...Shifu?" Wen Zhuliu's visit meant the end of his carefree days. It's time. That night, Wei Wuxian did not look at either Lan Wangji or Jiang Yanli when he bid "dianxia" and "Jiang-zhuzi" good night. He pretended to retire to bed early, after washing himself of his servant's exterior and donning his robes of night-black. He laid in the dark, waiting for time to pass, and reminded himself of his true purpose. He was never meant to care about these people; love these people. Jiang Yanli was not his doting foster sister; Lan Wangji was not his beloved wangye. I am Wei Wuxian of the great Qishan Wen. Nevernight is my home. I am a spy. Gusu is my enemy. Wei Wuxian kept his eyes closed, his breathing even, and his heartbeat slow. In the lonely quiet, he waited, and waited, and waited. Until the candlelight around the princely manor dimmed to nothing, until the night grew still and the moon shone bright and high in the dark, dark sky. Reaching under the floorboard beneath his bed, Wei Wuxian retrieved his life-long companion from its hiding place and released it from its sheath. "Hello, old friend." He whispered, stroking the blade edge. Suibian's steel glistened with cold malevolence in the stark, pale moonlight.
It would be another year before WWX's identity is discovered. During that time, he lived a double life. In the day, he was Lan Wangji's precious Wei Ying, and at night, he was the blade in Wen Ruohan's hand, stealing, killing and destroying on command. His assignments were not always murder; sometimes it required him to break into secure facilities and obtain copies of certain documents. He was never alone on these jobs; there was always someone convalescing with him from within. Slowly, he began to realize just how deep Wen Ruohan's spy network had infiltrated Gusu's foundation. In a way, it excited him, to know that the posturing and pretending would soon be over, that in the near future a quick war would sweep across the land and unite the two nations. In another way, it frightened him to the bones.
Wei Wuxian killed 37 individuals within the span of a year, 37 men and women of different ranks, status and stations. He did not always know why these people needed to die; in fact, he often didn't and preferred it that way. If he didn't know the motive, then he couldn't argue against the reason, and thus could go on believing that what Wen Ruohan did was ultimately for the betterment of everyone. The men of Gusu were weak - Wei Wuxian was always told - they were not fit to rule. The people of Gusu would be better served under a united empire. He repeated this statement to himself before every job, but over time, the mantra on his tongue began to lose its flavour.
In the meantime however, Lan Wangji and Jiang Yanli quickly formed a strong plan on how they wanted to live out the rest of their lives. Lan Wangji never quite enjoyed laying with women, but Jiang Yanli had just enough wickedness behind her demure exterior that things were... well, interesting. In any case, it was not long before she came to him all smiles and whispered the good news over luncheon .
"Truly?" Lan Wangji set down his chopsticks. "Hm uhm." Jiang Yanli dapped her mouth delicately. "Now, perhaps it's a good time to discuss how dianxia should go about winning A-Xian's affection. He's under the impression you've cast him aside on taishi's orders and has been giving him the cold shoulder." "I wasn't." Lan Wangji defended himself, distressed and slightly offended. "It's just, huangshu's been watching me like a hawk. I was afraid any further attempt to be closer to him would give my uncle reason to remove him from my household entirely." Jiang Yanli was sympathetic. "The summer hunt is in two week's time, and afterwards, since bixia always likes to finish the night on the river with fireworks, perhaps...." She let the sentence dangle, a knowing smile playing at her lips. Lan Wangji felt hope.
Unfortunately, a little hiccup happened before the hunt could take place. Jin Ziyan falsely believed that Wei Wuxian had fallen out of favour with Lan Wangji and was itching to show him his place. Poor Mo Xuanyu was caught in the middle. Jin Ziyan knew Wei Wuxian was an audacious one, but not so stupid that he could be easily goaded into committing a grave offence. Thus, Jin Ziyan planned to cause an incident in the garden whereby poor Mo Xuanyu would unwittingly "offend" him, and he would publicly announce a punishment that was harsher than necessary. He made sure that Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian were near by, as they usually took a mid-afternoon stroll after lunch. True to his predictions, Wei Wuxian could not stop himself for interfering on Mo Xuanyu's behalf. Then in their altercation, Jin Ziyan would fall into the pond, making it seem as though Wei Wuxian was the one who shoved him out of anger. Oh but a lowly servant shoving Hanguang-wang's deputy consort into the pond??! He was as good as dead. What's more, everything happened on the same afternoon that Lan Qiren was scheduled to visit Lan Wangji to discuss matters of court. If it was only Lan Wangji, Jin Ziyan knew Wei Wuxian would suffer little consequence, but taishi tolerated no insubordination or churlish behaviour of any kind.
Lan Qiren was incensed, livid, but he was not hasty to deal the punishment. Instead he turned to his nephew and asked, whilst fully knowing the answer, "Wangji, your household follows the regulations that govern all princely manors, does it not?" "It does, huangshu." "Then tell me what is the punishment reserved for a servant for daring to lay hands on a deputy consort and to cause physical harm to said consort?" "It....I - huangshu -" "What is the rule?" Lan Wangji knew very well that the punishment was death for any servant, maid or eunuch who dared to harm any member of the harem. But Wei Ying, his Wei Ying... "Wei Ying is very precious to Yanli and to Yunmeng-hou. As well..." Lan Wangji hesitated. "Yanli is with child again. It is still very early so we thought it best not to announce it lest we have a repeat of last time. It would not do to upset her at this time." Lan Qiren was extremely dissatisfied with his answer, but conceded for Jiang Yanli's sake. "I'm glad, Wangji, that you've found your way back to your proper companions. This Wei Wuxian clearly has been spoiled to the point of impropriety. His actions today are utterly unacceptable and cannot be allowed to go unpunished or else others would surely follow his example. Guards!" "Detain Wei Wuxian. Have him strung up on a post in the servants' courtyard and give him fifty lashes. No food nor drink. Sun or rain, he is not to be let down until dusk tomorrow." "Huangshu!" Lan Wangji's head buzzed, as though someone had struck him squarely in the temple. His chest felt tight, and his heart ached where it rebelled inside him. "Please -" "He has his life. That is mercy enough."
Wei Wuxian was stripped down to his trousers only and tied up to a post, his hands bound together above him and his bare feet never finding purchase on the ground no matter how he struggled. This fucking suck ass. Jin Ziyan you're a dead man. When all fifty lashes were dealt, even the guards were sweating through their robes. They left him dangling there in the blistering summer heat. A young maid dared to try and sneak him some water but was thwarted by an older momo. "What do you think you're doing, lassie? Did you not hear taishi, no food or drink until dusk tomorrow. Do you want lashes too? Go on! Go!" It rained hard all through the night, only easing up at dawn, but the aftermath of the storm left the air muggy and humid. Combined with the heat, it felt as though he was being steamed alive like a wheat bun. At some point during the second day, Wei Wuxian finally lost consciousness. He was not aware when Lan Wangji barged into the courtyard against Lan Qiren's explicit orders and cut him free.
Really tho, i just want this scene to happen (╹ڡ╹ ) "I'm sorry." Wei Wuxian blinked at Lan Wangji's hunched figure sitting at his bedside. "Whatever for? You saved me, dianxia." Lan Wangji, "But it was my attention that put you in such a position in the first place. Huangshu was looking for a reason to punish you since that day he saw us in my study." Wei Wuxian, "dianxia..." "I find you... lovely, Wei Ying," confessed Lan Wangji with a heavy sigh. His ears burned red not only with the embarrassment of a youth in love but with shame. "I wish for your company, even when you have no desire to be part of my harem. Now I know my mistake. I should have respected the boundaries. I should've known my attention on you would incite jealousy from the others, and as a servant, you have no means of protecting yourself. This is entirely my fault." Wei Wuxian's heart fluttered despite himself. He quickly shook his head. "No dianxia, please don't blame yourself -" Lan Wangji, "perhaps I should send you back to Jiang-fu; I'm sure Jiang-xiao-gongzi would be delighted to have your company back. You would be safe there." Jiang Wanyin had come to visit his sister the very next day after Wei Wuxian was sentenced to whipping. He was one of the most accomplishment young men of his generation, anticipated to be a great general. Nie Mingjue had thought highly of him and had expected great things from this youth. Though perhaps what the late feng-jun found truly commendable was Jiang Wanyin's complete lack of pretense and his short-fuse temper. That is to say, he did not hesitate to get in Lan Wangji's face. His sister would have chastised him, had she not been so preoccupied by her tears. Wei Wuxian, "Jiang...Jiang Cheng was here?" "He was, and he was very upset about your condition. He left many fine medicine and ointments for you." Lan Wangji sighed again. "I shall speak with Yanli. If she is amenable, then I shall make arrangements for you to go back to Jiang-fu. You would not have to put up with me any longer." Lan Wangji stood up. Wei Wuxian grasped his sleeve immediately. In that moment, he could not tell if his panic was derived from his worry that he would not be able to complete his assignment if Lan Wangji were to send him away or if he simply did not wish to part with the prince. "Dianxia - I - I don't want to leave. I - it's true I had once rejected you, but...would you think less of me if I said your attention … hasn't been unwanted for a while, that I have come to enjoy them." At Lan Wangji's widened eyes, Wei Wuxian continued quickly. "You need not give me anything, no elevation, no rank. I don't care about any of that. I am a man, I have no ability to give you children. Nor do I have any family who would benefit from your continued favour of me. I am an orphan, dianxia, I have no place to go. I just....don't send me away. Please let me stay! I'm not afraid of Jin Ziyan, or taishi, or anything!" Lan Wangji sat back down. His hand trembled when he laid it on top of Wei Wuxian's. "Wei Ying...?" Wei Wuxian smiled, still radiant despite his pale complexion. "Dianxia -" "Lan Zhan. No more dianxia, I only want to hear you call me by my name." Wei Wuxian flushed pink. The blush was real, as was the pleased little smile he tried to hide. "Lan Zhan, Wei Ying is yours, if you still want him." The worst part of that was that he meant it. Just the mere thought of being held by Lan Wangji, of being kissed by him, of... so many other wonderful possibilities, made Wei Wuxian want to hide his flaming face into his pillow. Lan Wangji smiled. Quietly, he lifted Wei Wuxian's hand and pressed a kiss to the inner side of his wrist. "Rest, I will be right here." Wei Wuxian felt his treacherous little heart soar: oh no … oh no no no no ….. (Xue Yang's voice in narration: and it was in this moment, that Wei Wuxian knew, he fucked up.) The cruellest thing Wei Wuxian ever did was give Lan Wangji hope knowing that one day he would take it all away.
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karmelek-writes · 3 years
Text
comfort zone I part 4 - teaser #2
Harrison Osterfield x fem!reader, Tom Holland x fem!reader
Synopsis: What do you do when you love them but want someone else?
A/N: Hi guys! Firstly, I want to apologise for my long absence. I don't want to dwell on it too much, last month was extremely busy for me. However, I'm back now and to those who were patiently waiting for me to post - thank you for staying here and I love you guys! This is yet another teaser for part 4 of comfort zone. I'm about to finish writing it soon so I will post the whole part in a few days, but I wanted to make up for not posting for a while! I hope you're excited and I can't wait to read your thoughts! Love, W.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes!
Read part 1, part 2, and part 3
In Harrison’s mind winning you over wasn’t hard. He had a plan and it included being the best man he could be for you. Not that he normally wasn’t nice but when it came to you, he made sure to put extra effort in everything he was doing because he wanted to impress you so much. He failed to understand one thing, though, and it was his own admiration towards you. You were a good girl from a good house and Harrison knew that, he was your friend before but he couldn’t make out when he first realised he liked you and when liking you turned into being into you and when that turned into completely and utterly adoring you. His feelings crushed at him at the most unexpected moment and it scared him and thrilled at the same time. He was eager because you never failed to keep him on his toes, making him submit to you and falling in love with you every single day but also afraid because he never in his life felt such intense feelings towards any girl and he didn’t quite know what it meant for him. However, Harrison wasn’t stupid. He was more than aware of Tom’s feelings for you even if the man himself wasn’t yet. The way Tom spoke about you, with how much love your name rolled out of his mouth started making Harrison sick to his stomach. He was Tom’s friend but he couldn’t bring himself to stop talking to you or blocking you from his life. Harrison was breaking the bro code and he hated to be that person but he didn’t want to choose between love and friendship. That’s why he never told Tom about you. In his eyes, you and Harrison were just good friends who reconnected after losing contact. The blonde didn’t have the heart to reveal the truth, especially when Tom was venting to him about how he fucked up your friendship and how bad he wanted you back. He didn’t even have the courage to back up when the oldest Holland asked him for help with winning you back. That’s how he knew that Tom was about to call you tonight to make things right and that was the reason for your little adventure. Well, it wasn’t the only reason because he still wanted to do something nice for you and spend some quality time together but he still wished you forgot about Tom. He wished that after today you would see that Harrison was better for you than the bruette, because even though he was assured of your mutual attraction, he knew you still liked Tom. Another thing was that Harrison knew he was always the second choice. Most girls only talked to him to get with Tom and he was sick of being treated like a means to an end. Once in his life he wanted to be the chosen one, he wanted you to choose him. He hated himself for competing with his best friend for your favours, but what made him feel even worse was using Tom’s feelings to his advantage. Despite everything, they were still best friends. Harrison had Tom’s plan of making you like him again written in his head that’s why he was ten steps ahead in their game. He didn’t like referring to you as a prize someone could win, you weren’t an object that could satisfy anyone but that was how he felt - like a player who was too proud to back up even if he knew he should. The truth was Harrison was desperate. It’s been too long since he got a sense of comfort from someone, since he felt needed and wanted, and to his liking and hating, since someone made his skin burn just by a simple brush or caused his blood rush south just by glancing at him. He wanted- no, he needed that intimacy. He did what he did because it’s been too long since he felt like he was alive.
“Hey, are you okay?” your sweet, dripping with concern voice brought Harrison back to harsh reality.
“Oh, sorry. Yes, yes, I’m okay,” he didn’t know if he was trying to convince you or himself but it seemed to work as your full of worry eyes gleamed with their usual playfulness.
“You haven’t been listening to anything I said, have you?” a lopsided smile and apologetic glance sent your way were enough to confirm your suspicion. “It’s okay, it wasn’t anything interesting anyway,” you faked a chuckle to relieve some tension as you felt stupid for rambling. That must have been the reason Harrison zoned out, you thought, mentally scolding yourself for boring him.
“Hey, hey, no! Look at me, please,” at his plea you moved to face the blonde and you immediately melted just from looking straight into his ocean blue eyes. “I’m sorry for zoning out. Please, don’t think that I’m not interested in what you’re saying. It’s just um…” you sent him a warm smile noticing the hesitation in his melodic voice hoping it would help him to open up. The trick did its job as Harrison giggled at you. “It isn’t fair, you know?” he groaned playfully.
“What are you talking about?” you played stupid, sending him another “innocent” smile.
“THIS is what I’m talking about! You can’t just smile at me like that, it makes my knees weak and I want-” Harrison bit his tongue just in time to stop himself from saying something he’d regret later. He wasn’t ready to tell you about his feelings yet, as horrible as it sounded he needed to take Tom out of the picture first.
“And you want…” you didn’t let him get away with continuing, as you nodded at him to go on. Harrison cursed under his breath, not sure what to do next.
“I’ve just been having a rough time lately,” his mood shifted slightly and you probably wouldn’t notice if it wasn’t for him fidgeting with his fingers. You picked up that it was one of the things he used to do when he was nervous so you took matters into your own hands to lighten up the mood. You took his hand into yours, fingers intertwining with his as you squeezed his palm to silently assure him of your presence and support. Turning to face him you made a bold move to place a gentle kiss right at the corner of his mouth. You didn’t know what gave you confidence but you wanted to make him feel better, to show him you were there for him too. Pulling out slightly you made a mistake to avert your gaze from his lips and look him in the eyes. It felt as if the time stopped when Harrison subtly titled his head to the side without breaking eye contact. Desire evident in his azure irises consuming your soul, yet he hesitated to press his soft lips to your own. Noses brushing, you could feel his hot and uneven breath on your burning skin. Suddenly you forgot how to breathe, too occupied by the rapid heartbeat buzzing in your ears to pay attention to Harrison’s thumb caressing your rosy from excitement cheek.
“Whatever it is that you’re struggling with, I’m here for you,” you were scared to speak up so as not to ruin the sweet moment, so you whispered the words as delicately as you could, wishing that it could last forever. Harrison nodded at you, implying that he understood what you tried to say, too busy admiring your beauty from up close. After seeing his stare wandering on your features you suddenly became highly alerted of every single imperfection evident on your skin. Insecure of yourself, you turned away to look at the smouldering flames, too embarrassed to notice Harrison’s loving gaze.
Taglist: @osterfieldshollandgirl, @tom-holland-is-spiderman-archive, @harryhollandsgirlfriend, @peachyafshawn, @whltlock
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missymurphy1985 · 3 years
Text
The Umbrella Girl (part 4)
Will you get the answers you need, and will it make you see Cillian differently when you get them?
Warnings - baby loss, angst, swearing
Taglist @queenshelby @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @being-worthy @noctvrnalmoth @elenavampire21
Sophie finally caught you alone and pulled you into her trailer.
"Now you can't avoid me, what the hell was all that about last week y/n?" She said, sitting you down at the table and put the kettle on.
"Honestly Soph... I have no idea."
"Have you not spoken to Cillian about it?" She placed a cup of coffee in front of you and squeezed your hand gently as your eyes began to water.
"I've avoided him since," your voice started to crack. "I need to ask you something, but you have to SWEAR you won't say anything.. to anyone.."
"You have my word, y/n, what's going on?" You took a breath and told her about the conversation you'd heard between Lisa and Cillian. When you finished, she was looking out the window, a sad look on her face.
"Okay.. I don't think this is common knowledge but Cillian and I are close. He told me about it." She paused, and bit her lip, unsure whether to tell you but she could see the closeness you shared with Cillian, and the way his eyes lit up when you were around.. you needed to know, but it had to come from him.
"You need Cillian to answer this y/n. Not me. It's not my place." She picked up her phone and dialled a number.
"Hey it's me. I need you to come to my trailer, please.... Now.... It's important." She hung up. You never had a chance to protest, when a few minutes later the man himself walked in the door. His mouth dropped seeing you so upset, and his face looked to the floor.
"You need to tell her Cillian." He nodded, and sat at the table with you both. Sophie stood, but Cillian held her hand to stop her, he needed her to stay.
"She's gonna hate me after this Sophie. Stay." His eyes were watering now. He cleared his throat and ran his hands through his hair, taking a deep breath. Sophie squeezed his hand and stood in the kitchen area.
"What's going on Cill? I heard that conversation... Please.. tell me the truth?"
"I will. Promise me you'll just let me talk.. don't interrupt, yeah?" You nodded. How bad was this?
"When my wife left me 2 years ago, I hit an all time low. I had no wife.. no children.. I felt like I'd got nothing. I found myself having this fling with Lisa. Just a fuck now and then, nothing serious.. although I'm sure she wanted more."
"She was obsessed with you Cillian..." Sophie muttered, then apologised when Cillian looked at her.
"After we'd been sleeping together a few weeks, she told me she was pregnant. I was due to head back to Ireland the next day for my sister's wedding.. obviously I still went. I called Finn - there were rumours she was fucking him too. He admitted they'd had a fling at the same time I was sleeping with her. Then he told me about the cameraman, the prop guy, the assistant director... So I called Lisa after one too many drinks at the wedding. I'm not proud of how I behaved.. I was angry.. called her a slut and a tramp, called her a liar - told her I didn't believe her about the baby and she could burn in hell for all I cared. If there was a baby, it wasn't mine and I didn't want anything to do with it or her." You gasped in shock and went to speak before he cut you off. "I never should have called her... I know that.. I was just emotional and angry and hurt..." You reached over and took his hands in yours for support. Tears were running down his cheeks now. "I could hear her screaming, crying... Calling me every name under the sun.. told me I was a scumbag and trying to get out of paying child support.. then I heard thuds, the line went quiet. I knew something bad had happened but I was the other side of the Irish Sea, I couldn't do anything... So I called Sophie, she lived Lisa..." he couldn't talk any more, Sophie took over.
"I went round and found her at the bottom of the stairs, blood everywhere... Doctors at the hospital confirmed a miscarriage.. the sudden stress combined with the fall made her lose the baby."
You hand was over your mouth now.. you felt yourself crying with him.
"I've never forgiven myself.. and she's never forgiven me. She's promised me she'll go public with this if I don't take her back. The baby probably wasn't even mine, and she's trying to ruin me! My wife and I actually met up for a coffee a few days later, but she soon put paid to any possibility of a reconciliation. She'd filmed us having sex without me knowing and she emailed it to my wife, claiming it had been filmed before she'd left me. That ended any chance I had of getting back with her. She filed for divorce the next day."
"The fall was a tragic accident! That wasn't your fault at all Cillian?"
"You know the media as well as I do, y/n, they won't see it like that and you know it. Doesn't matter how 'in favour' you are - the slightest sniff of dirt and they'll destroy you."
You didn't know what to say, or how to respond to what you'd been told. You wanted to hit him for being so stupid, and hold him for being so utterly helpless.
You were still holding his hands on the table in front of you, and you heard Sophie sniffing away a few tears.
"I'm not a good man, y/n, I shouldn't have kissed you in my trailer last week. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all of this. Both you and Emily deserve better, and I can't give that to you."
You brought his hands to your lips and kissed them gently, before taking a deep breath.
"You ARE a good man, Cillian. You're one of the finest men I've ever met."
"Y/n..." You raised your hand to quiet him.
"No - I stayed quiet for you, now you stay quiet for me." Your mom voice stunned him into silence. "You welcomed me with open arms within seconds of meeting me. You made me feel comfortable and welcome onset. You took me to the hospital when my daughter broke her wrist. You make me a coffee every single morning. You refuse to let me do the laundry run in case I hurt my back. You make sure to add things into your food shopping list that Emily likes so you can slip them into my handbag when I'm not looking to take them home for her. You're understanding and patient when I need to take an hour to go to a parent-teacher conference, or a doctor's appointment.. you notice when I'm tired and send me home early, making sure I still get paid for a full day... That doesn't sound like a bad man to me, Cillian."
He didn't say anything, just dried his eyes on his sleeve and pulled you up to stand, wrapping his arms around you. You held him close, making sure he knew just how much you thought of him, how special he made you feel, how special he made your daughter feel.
"I've known you for three weeks, but I know I feel something really special for you.. is that crazy?" You felt him whisper in your ear.
"Only as crazy as me feeling the same way for you. Thank you for trusting me with this... Now let me help you? Let me help you..." You pulled back and pressed your lips to his. You heard Sophie cough.
"Ahem - you wanna use your own trailer for that Cill?" You both laughed, and Cillian took your hands in his.
"Not a bad idea, Soph, but no. I'm doing this properly. I'm not rushing it this time. Let me take you for dinner Friday night?" You smiled, nodding your head.
"I'd like that." He kissed you again, both of you ignoring Sophie's wretching noises in the background. Whatever happened next, you'd face it together, no matter what.
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a-simple-imagine · 3 years
Text
Day 1 - The Great Candy Cane Disaster
synopsis: Malfoy gets you in trouble so you decide to get back at him but things go a little too far
pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader (if you squint)
Words: 2.6k+
A/n -  We’re kicking off the first day of my advent calendar with something centered around Draco Malfoy.
Warnings - Swearing
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"They look ridiculous," Malfoy muses as you add the final ingredient to your forgetfulness potion.
"They look fine," You roll your eyes, utterly fed up with the boy. Sometimes you wished he'd simply keep his comments to himself. "I wanted to look festive but I have to wear my uniform so antlers were the next best thing."
"They look stupid," He repeats. You adjust the reindeer antlers that sit upon your head like a silent protest.
"Will you just try the potion please?"
"No, why don't you do it?" He bites back, you swear he's being difficult on purpose just to get under your skin. When it came to potions class, you often found yourself paired with Malfoy. On the odd occasions, he was relatively helpful but sometimes he was the exact opposite.
"I did most of the work so you have to try it." You risk pushing the potion cauldron a little, watching the liquid inside almost swish over the edge; that would be the last thing you need in Snape's class.
"I do hope that amongst all this arguing, you managed to finish your potion." Snape's dull voice ringed in your ear."
"Of course Professor," Malfoy recites as professor Snape approaches your table. "she was just about to test it out."
You want to protest but you know better. It's probably just land you in trouble, so you reluctantly pick up a glass vile "fine," and plunge it into the orange potion. You take the smallest of sips. "So, Uh... what were we talking about again?"
"Next time, you two should refrain from shouting across my classroom"
"Yes Professor," you both reply.
"Five points from Gryffindor."
"Wait why?" You question quickly, brows furrowed.
"Careful now, or I'll make it ten." You can hear Malfoy's little snicker beside you as you watch Snape walk away to inspect somebody else's work.
By the time lunch came around, you were utterly fed up with the day. Slumping down at the Gryffindor table, you let out a dramatic sigh suggesting you wanted someone to ask what was wrong. Nobody did. So you sigh again.
"I can't believe you lost us house points," Hermione scolds as if she hasn't done it before. It wasn't a big deal. "why can't you be more responsible."
"You try being partners with Malfoy," you grumble, as you take a couple of sandwiches and place them on your plate. "And besides, Snape was totally unfair."
"Honestly, everyone knows Snape favours Slytherin so you have to be more careful." Hermione was right about that. It was clear Snape favoured his own house and was especially harsh when it came to Gryffindors. Why he hated you so much was unclear but it was something you had come to terms with.
"Gosh it was only ten points, it's not the end of the world Hermione." You take a bite of your sandwich. "Enough about that- I need your help."
"With what?" She asks, bringing her goblet of juice to her lips.
"Learning the duplication spell? It never seems to work for me."
"Why?"
You simply shrug. "If I knew why, I wouldn't ask for help,"
"No- I mean why do you want help with it? You never normally want to study outside of class."
You'd laugh if it wasn't true. Studying, for the most part, wasn't your favourite thing to do and much like Ron, you tended to avoid it as much as possible. You were by no means a bad student, just not as good as Hermione for example. "You're always telling me I should get ahead of my studies and not leave everything to the last minute, Hermione, I'm just trying to be a good student."
For a moment, you think she's seen through your lie but she just smiles a little before pushing her plate to the middle of the table. "Fine. I have to head to the library and get a few books but I'll meet you in the common room later and we can go over it."
"Great," and with that Hermione leaves you with the boys to finish up lunch.
"So tell the truth then," Ron perks up, his mouth full of food.
"Huh?"
"We all know you're not suddenly a model student," he continues. "so why do you suddenly want help with a spell?"
"People can change, Ronald." Hermione always called him that.
"I don't believe that for a minute,"
"Ron's right," Harry agreed. "You once said you wouldn't be caught dead in the library. That doesn't sound like model student behaviour."
"Blasphemy," You state dramatically slapping your hand against the table.
Ron chuckles a little. "Tell us. We won't tell Hermione."
"Fine," You could trust them enough not to keep your secret; they'd proven that value before. "I want to enchant an object and give it to Malfoy."
"Hermione isn't going to like that you're using a spell to get back at Malfoy-" Ron warns with the most playful of smiles. "I can't wait to tell her."
"You just said you wouldn't," you huff, tossing a piece of bread in Ron's direction. "It's just a harmless prank."
"He's messing with you," Harry adds.
"Malfoy's leaving- I'll be right back," you jump up sharply. "Don't head back without me."
Charging over to the Slytherin table, you find Pansy just as she's finishing up. "Great, what do you want?"
"So volatile," you tease. "I need a favour."
"Ha! that's likely," Pansy Parkinson was not your friend. Everyone knew that. In fact, she actively chose to hate on you every moment she got. You liked to think it was just a complicated relationship with one of the biggest bullies in school.
"Can we... talk in private,"
Taking her arm, you drag her out of the great hall as she struggles in your grip. "What do you want?"
"A favour." You repeat. You need Pansy on board or your plan wouldn't work. You weren't close enough to Malfoy, nor did you have access to the Slytherin common room. Pansy did and she was not against breaking the rules.
"Tough luck," she spits, turning sharply on her heel but you reach out to grab her before she can leave.
"Please Pansy,"
"What's in it for me?"
Uh... you hadn't planned that far ahead. "My love and friendship?"
She chokes out a laugh. "Pass."
"Fine, I'll do whatever you want,"
"Whatever I want?" The was a degree of intrigue in her voice as she turned back around that made you worry about her upcoming demand.
"I mean... I'm not gonna like murder someone but you get the idea."
"Do all my Christmas break homework?"
"You can't be serious?" You got enough homework on an average day never mind during the holidays. It was like the professors deliberately didn't want you to have fun. "We've already been set like two essays and-"
"Take it or leave it," she interrupts, a malicious grin graced her beautiful features.
You groan loudly. You didn't really have much choice and she was holding all the cards here. "Fine- okay, I'll do al your homework."
"So, what do you want me to do then?" She wonders, pulling out of your grip.
"I need you to sneak me into the Slytherin common room."
"Is that all?" She raises a brow. "That's easy enough- When?"
"Couple days. I have to prepare first."
"Kay-" Without another word, Pansy turns on her heel and enters the great hall. Guess the conversation was over then. You may now be lumbered with way more homework than you cared to think about but at least she agreed. Heading back to the table, Ron is somehow still eating.
"What was that about?" Harry questions before you can even sit back down.
"Since when you and Parkinson friends?" Ron adds.
"We're not. I'm pretty sure she hates me." You shrug, finishing off your drink. "I needed her help but I had to wait until Malfoy wasn't around"
"Sounds like more effort than it's worth." Ron was more right then he would ever know.
"We should go. We have charms soon."
Classes were relatively easier towards the end of the year excluding any tests but the days still felt way too long. That evening you're sat on the floor beside the roaring reds and oranges of the fire. Hermione is sat across from you with a neat stack of papers and an array of books. Ron and Harry are chatting on the couch just within earshot.
"No offence, Hermione but why do I have to know the entire history of the spell to use it?"
"You wanted my help, didn't you?"
You sigh softly listening to her entire lecture with forged interest. When she's finally stopped telling you about the twins who created the spell, she placed a small leather-bound book on the floor between you; pulling out her wand. "Before you begin, you want to be sure of exactly how many copies you wish to make otherwise it can become uncontrollable," Hermione explains. "Only the caster can stop the uncontrollable duplication." Waving her wand she gently tapped the book. "Geminio." The book shook a little before splitting into two identical books side by side.
"And this spell works on anything?"
"To a degree. Keep in mind while they are identical, the other copy is considered worthless as after a while it'll start to degrade. So you give it a try,"
You pull out your wand and with a flick. "Geminio." Nothing happened. So you try again.
"juh-MIN-ee-oh," Hermione corrects your pronunciation slowly. "And don't flourish your wand so much. Just a smooth and simple flick," she readies her wand and flicks. "Geminio."
The book splits into another. Show off.
You flick your wand "Geminio." Again nothing happens.
"You're not very good at this," Ron teases from the side.
Hermione takes your wand hand in hers. "Let's try together, okay, ready?" You nod a little. Hermione guides your hand. "Geminio." You both say together and this time the book splits. You smile brightly.
"It worked!"
"Good job."
"Now I can put my plan in motion."
"What plan? I thought you just wanted help with your studies?"
"Oh- yes, that's what I meant." Her eyes narrow in and you offer an innocent smile. "Well, I'm off to bed- Good night."
It's a couple of days before you decide to finally get back at Malfoy. That time was mostly spent in classes and practising the spell. While everyone else is distracted having dinner, you follow Pansy through the halls of Hogwarts and down to the dungeons.
"So why are you doing this?" She asks but she doesn't sound too interested in an actual answer.
"Malfoy got me in trouble and I wish to share the Christmas spirit."
"By giving him... a candy cane?"
"Yeah," Your smile brightens. "Candy canes are the perfect Christmas treat. He has to be the one to touch it okay? No one else or it'll ruin it."
"Weird." She seems suspicious. "But fine. You're still doing all my homework."
"Yes. I know." You roll your eyes. Every time you've spoken to her in the past few days she's mentioned her homework. Stepping into the Slytherin common room felt weird; you don't know what you were expecting it to look like. You guess you just imagined them all to look the same but in different colours however, that was certainly not the case. It was... darker in here somewhat creepier.
"Then I'll make sure he's the one to get it."
"Promise?"
"Just leave before I call Snape."
"Alright, alright, Thanks for this."
Sneaking out the Slytherin common room, you head back to the great hall as if nothing had happened. Joining Harry, Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table.
"Where have you been?" Hermione quickly asks and your mind draws a blank.
"Huh- oh! I wasn't hungry but now I am- So what did I miss?"
"Nothing really," Harry shrugs.
"Hermione was lecturing us," Ron follows up.
"Sounds about right," you chuckle.
It's hard to pay attention as you wait for Malfoy to finish his dinner. Staring intensely at the Slytherin table; only catching bits and pieces of the conversation happening around you. When you notice Malfoy leaving, you sit up a little straighter.
"What are you looking at?" Hermione clicks before your eyes, drawing your attention back.
"...nothing,"
"Do you fancy Malfoy or something?"
"What?" You turn to her, completely shocked and sort of offended. You and Malfoy would be a... weird combination to say the least. "No. Don't be silly."
"You have been staring at him since sitting down," Ron adds, a smirk on his lips. He knew exactly why you were distracted so his comment was just to rile you up.
"I don't fancy him- shut up." You growl back. "I'm heading back to the common room."
"I think I'll come too," Hermione stated, clearing up the almost none existent mess she had made. LI wanna do a little reading before bed."
You offer a small smile. If you say no, she'll be suspicious so you kind of just have to go along with it. Harry and Ron end up joining you. The halls are pretty empty as the four of you head back, it was still pretty early to be fair. You're idly chatting away to Hermione when you hear your name echo through the hallway. While taking note of it, you choose to ignore it and continue walking but then it happens again. Louder this time. You grab Hermione and Ron, by the wrists and pull them a little faster. "Hurry up,"
"What why?" Hermione protests pulling out of your grip.
"Because."
"Stop!" You know the voice belongs to Malfoy; it's hard to miss. When you finally turn around to look, you see him charging towards you looking very angry. "What can I do for you Malfoy?" You ask innocently, putting on your best smile but he doesn't stop. You back up until you're against a wall and he is standing before you. It doesn't seem like the time but still, you reach up and pull a candy cane that seems to be stuck to his best. "Didn't know you liked candy canes so much. Saving this one for later were we?"
He doesn't see the funny side. "I know it was you,"
"I don't know what you're talking about,"
"Leave her alone, Malfoy." Hermione defends, walking up behind him.
"Yeah shove off," Ron growls.
"You're not funny," the Slytherin snaps, taking a step back and taking your wrist. "You either come with me or I tell Snape that you filled the room with candy canes."
"How could I do that? I can't even get in the Slytherin common room."
"Your name was on the card."
"Is that why you wanted to learn the Geminio charm?" Busted.
"I used the Geminio spell on a candy cane so when Malfoy picked it up, they would start multiplying." You admit.
"We can't get it to stop."
"How is that my problem," you protest as he tries to drag you along with him.
"Did you remember to set an amount?"
"Uh... I knew I forgot something."
As much as you struggle you do end up going with Draco. He doesn’t say anything the entire way but his grip suggests that he's still very angry and as the door opens and some candy canes spill out, you realise you may have gone a little too far. You had originally expected a hundred copies or so but this was way more and they didn't seem to be stopping as they spilt out onto the corridor.
"Well... Shit. Probably should have brought Hermione with us."
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chibsytelford · 4 years
Text
The End
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*** GIF CREDIT TO CREATOR ***
Anon requested -  Being Jax sister and juice‘s old lady,you’re going to the last prison visit 😥watching your brother asking juice what really was up at the drama. A few days later you get the last call from juice and finally the information of his death ... angst angst angst 🙀 Love you’re story’s ❤️❤️
WARNINGS - SLIGHT MENTION OF SUICIDE (I DIDN’T ACTUALLY EXPLAIN WHAT HAPPENED, IT’S JUST IMPLIED- I wrote the word "suicide" and that's all). mention of prison.
Authors Note - I had to have breaks in between writing this. This was so fucking hard to write but I got there. I’m truly sorry if this upsets anyone in any way - that was not my intention. My asks or messages are always open for anyone who needs someone to talk too. xx
Taglist - @agirllovespasta @everyhowlmarksthedead @rebel-without-cause-x @whyisgmora @starrynite7114 @blessedboo @angelreyesgirl @sadeyesgf @sheeshgivemeabreak @scuzmunkie @jadesamhart @talicat713 @fangirlingaesthetics @trulysuccubus @angelxshiba​@thisishowdynastiesareborn @xx--day-dreamer--xx @lady-pswrld​ @naytraydr​ 
These last few weeks had been awful. In the 3 years you were together with Juice, you rarely spent a night away with him. Of course when he was on runs with the MC you slept apart, but he always ensured to call you before you went to sleep each night.  But the past few weeks, you would lie awake in your bed you usually shared with Juice, worrying about him. His new home was prison and you were not sure when you would be able to touch him or kiss him properly again.
You and Jax had been visiting him once a week as that was all the prison allowed. Juice always had a brave face on for you, but you knew he was completely and utterly broken. Juice wasn’t built for prison. He was too sensitive and you knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it much longer. It was so hard to see him like that and that was the reason you had barely slept a wink since he went inside.
You knew everything Juice did with the MC. He wasn’t perfect. You knew he had killed before. You knew he transported guns and drugs. You knew he did whatever he was asked, too scared to say no. But none of that made you love him any less. You had begged Jax to get him out, but even the President couldn’t do that. The cops hated the Sons and would do them no favours.
“Are you ready Y/N? It’s time to go and see Juice” Jax knocked on Juice’s dorm door. That was your usual routine before going to see Juice. Lying on his bed cuddling into the pillows he used. You guys had your own house, but after parties you both just crashed in the dorm as you usually got too drunk and Juice found it impossible to get you home.
“Yeah, I’m coming” you replied as you slowly got up and headed to the door. “Can you drive today? I’m exhausted”.
“Of course darling” Jax pulled you into his side and gave you a kiss on your temple.  
The drive to the prison was one of silence. You knew the drive like the back of your hand now and you preferred to just look out the window staring into the distance. Jax pulled up a few minutes later and you got out of the car, dazed and lethargic. But as usual you put a brave face on for Juice.
---
Juice looked worse than last week if that was possible. He was covered in cuts and bruises and the bags under his eyes indicated he had barely slept, much like you. All you wanted to do was reach over and touch his face, stroke his head, kiss him. But the prison guards were very strict and only let you give one hug at the end of each visit.
Seeing Juice like that, you knew if you spoke you would break down into tears, so instead you just looked at him and gave him a small sad smile which he returned.
“Brother, you look awful” Jax was the one to speak first to break the unbearable silence. “Who did that?” Jax gestured to Juice’s bruised face.
He shrugged quickly averting his gaze to you and back to Jax. You knew he didn’t want to talk about it infront of you but you were not leaving the table. You didn’t want to lose any precious time of seeing your boyfriend.
“What did you do brother? To get yourself in here?” Juice never did tell anyone how he ended up getting thrown in jail. You had assumed it was something to do with the club but Jax swore to you he didn’t know what happened and you believed him. You knew he would tell you if it was the clubs fault.
Juice put his head in his hands and when he lifted it again tears trickled down his face. “I betrayed you" he told Jax. “I wore a wire, got you on tape admitting to drug and gun running and murder” More tears escaped Juice’s eyes. “But when I wouldn’t hand the tape over to the authorities, I ended up in here”. Juice was now full on sobbing and you couldn’t help but reach over and gently touch his hand. He looked at you and your heart broke. You had never seen Juice this upset before and you didn’t know what to do. You felt completely helpless.
“You didn’t betray me and the club if you didn’t hand the tape over” Jax explained. “Why did you do it in the first place?”
“They had dirt on me. Dirt they were going to leak to you and I was scared man, scared you would disown me. The club and Y/N is the only family I have”. You wish Juice had told you and maybe you would have been able to help. “I feel disgusted that I nearly got the club in trouble, I will never forgive myself” Juice said.
You were worried. Every time you visited Juice in prison Jax would always ask him how he ended up in prison, and each time Juice would change the subject or tell Jax he didn’t want to talk about it. So why was he now openly admitting it?
“Can I have a minute alone with him?” you asked Jax. He obliged and went off to get a coffee, leaving you and Juice alone for the first time in a while.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” You needed to find out what Juice was thinking and feeling. He looked so vulnerable and you didn’t want him to do anything stupid.
“I’m just thinking about how much I miss you and how much I love you babe, that’s all” Juice looked into your eyes and all you saw in his was sadness and adoration. What you would give to just have him home in your arms.
“I love you too Juan, so much it hurts” you gave him a genuine smile this time. “You’ll be out in a few years right?” you were hopeful. You knew that it could be longer than a few years but you tried not to think about that.
“I don’t know” he shrugged. “I don’t know how much longer I can last in here”
“Don’t talk like that please baby” you begged him. “I need you”. You couldn’t stop the tears that trickled from your eyes, one after the other. “Please”
“I’ll try Y/N, I promise, it’s just so hard” You nodded your head and wiped the tears on your jumper. You didn’t really know what to say, and part of you didn’t believe that Juice would harm himself.
The prison guard indicated that visiting time was up and you both stood up. Juice pulled you into him for a hug and you squeezed him hard relishing in his scent and his softness. “I love you Y/N” he said as he pulled away and walked away from you not looking back.
“You need to get him out of there Jax” you pleaded with him as you headed out of the prison and back to the car.
---
The next few days were a blur. Juice’s words rattled around your head every second of the day. I don’t know how much longer I can last in here. You knew that Jax and the club were trying their hardest to get him out but you knew again there was nothing much they could do. All you could was wait and hope that Juice would get through it.
Your phone rang just as you had dozed off to sleep. You answered it and it was an automated voice asking if you accept the call from Stockton prison and asking if you accept the charges on the call. Of course you said yes and then the sound of your boyfriend’s voice filled the phone.
“Hey baby” he softly spoke.
“Hey” you sat up abruptly in bed. “Not that I’m complaining but why are you calling?”
“Don’t come and visit me tomorrow Y/N, I can’t bear to see your beautiful face” Juice’s voice broke. “I love you so much, and seeing you again would just break me”
You were shocked. He was asking you not to visit him which made you angry. “What the fuck?” you screamed at him down the phone. “What do you mean don’t visit you? That’s a selfish thing to ask and you fucking know it!” you didn’t mean to get so worked up and shout at him but you couldn’t help it. You wanted and needed to see him but he didn’t want to see you.
“I’m sorry Y/N, I’m so fucking sorry” and the line went dead. Frantically you found some clothes and put them on quickly. You phoned Jax and asked him to give you a ride to the prison and told him you’d explain in the car. You knew they wouldn’t let you in but you just needed to know that Juice was alright.
Jax picked you up 10 minutes later and you started the drive to the Stockton. You headed in to the prison and asked the receptionist if they could tell you if Juan Ortiz was ok. He recognised you as it was the same man who works the desk when you come and visit Juice. Just then some paramedics came in escorted by some guards and the receptionist buzzed them through. You started to feel sick and you just knew something was wrong.
“Juan Ortiz!” you barked at the receptionist. “Please just tell me if he’s ok”. The receptionist told you to hang on a moment and he disappeared for a few seconds making a call in the office behind him. He came back through and you could tell by the look on his face that Juice wasn’t ok.
An unknown man appeared at your side a second later and introduced himself as Peter. He was the man in charge of the prison. He asked you and Jax to follow him to his office. You were getting more worried and the walk to the office seemed like an eternity. Finally you reached it and Peter gestured for you both to sit down.
“I’m afraid it’s not good news. We found Juan in his cell 20 minutes ago. He didn’t make it. Suicide” you started sobbing uncontrollably and you went to attack the man sitting infront of you. You partly blamed him for Juice ending up in his prison, but overall you blamed yourself for not getting here quicker and for shouting and screaming at Juice on the phone a mere few minutes before he ended his life.
Jax stopped you from reaching Peter and he pulled you onto his lap, holding your body into his chest and stroking your hair. He was crying and angry too but he knew that taking it out on Peter wouldn’t help anyone.
He carried you out of the office and back into the car where you slumped back against the seat still sobbing. You really didn’t know how you were going to get through this. You were completely and utterly broken.
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ajokeformur-ray · 4 years
Text
Touch my soul, you know how // Joker x Reader // comfort.
Summary: You are scared of reality to a painful measure and panic attacks are a daily occurrence. You feel mentally weak and fragile. You just want someone to tell you all of the things you most want to hear. You want to be smothered in love and in comfort. Your Joker gives you everything that you deserve and you don’t even have to ask. All it takes is a look, and your Joker sees all.
A/N: I wrote this for me with the encouragement of @daincrediblegg​. I’m going through... a challenging time and I feel as it says in the summary. In this piece, I get everything out, I indulge myself in my clown, and I give myself what I deserve. Self-insert, self-indulgent, but the reader is general so it can be enjoyed by others, and I hope that someone else finds comfort in it too! LMAO I cried writing this, I really need it.🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭
Reader and Joker are legally married.
Note: mentions and descriptions of panic attacks, talks of real world issues (quarantine, lockdown etc.), crying (reader), etc. 
Word count: 2, 884.
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You walk out of the bedroom which you share with Joker. Your steps are careful, measured. Your shoulders are stiff, your neck aching with the way that you are holding yourself. Rigid. Your chest is tight, your jaw aching, your eyes burning. You are not okay and you know it, but the lie becomes the truth if it is told often enough and that is what you intend to do. If you let go, if you relax your shoulders, if you relax your jaw, if you take that desperately needed deep breath, then you will lose what little control you have over yourself, and if you lose control... you don’t know what will happen.
Your mind is somehow racing and yet it is deliciously blank. Your thoughts are loud and they bump into one another, blurring and merging into the single screaming thought. It dominates all logic, it silences all rationality, it renders you helpless against the chaos of your own mind... but somehow is your mind also quiet.
You stand to the side of the television, your eyes glassy and unfocused. The hold which you have over yourself is unforgiving, as are the thoughts which you tell yourself. It's fine. You're being stupid. Get over it. Others have it worse. This most recent thought is immediately followed up with a forced no, suffering isn't a competition, but you know that you don't believe yourself. 
Self loathing like bile rises up your oesophagus and you swallow thickly. It's okay, Y/N. You're okay.
You aren’t.
Joker is watching the news. His painted visage is given an eerie blue glow due to the harsh light of the television, and his dark blue brows are knotted in the middle. He is muttering to himself, his words unintelligible, and a cigarette is dangled loosely between two fingers. He is the very picture of tension as do his knees bounce a mile a minute, and all thoughts of your own distress are gone in the face of your clown struggling. You put aside your own emotional needs in favour of attending to Joker's, though rightfully do you feel overwhelmed and out of control.
" Are you okay, Joker?"
Joker exhales his lungful of smoke and he nods. He hasn’t looked at you yet. You wonder why.
"Are you sure, darling?" You know your Joker, and you take a step forward. Something which Arthur once wrote in his journal comes to your mind and you whisper it to yourself: "step step step step..." It is a mantra of support and of comfort, and though Arthur never intended for it to have that effect, he is glad that you at least find comfort within his words of world weariness.
Joker nods once more, and you wisely decide not to push him. You trust him to come to you only when he is ready and not before. Reciprocity is important in your marriage, it always has been so significant to you that Arthur knows that he is as much a part of this relationship as you are, and his sea green eyes pin you in place as he says, "Are you okay, Y/N?"
Usually would you take your time answering Joker, for you like to carefully consider your responses to questions which Joker poses to you as a way of thanking him for his concern. But today, even though your breath hitches and Joker instantly picks up on how not okay you are, you say, “Yes.”
The silver halo which is around your finger is now around Joker too and his eyes sharpen. The colour of his irises seems to darken. “Y/N.” It’s a warning, a chance to go back on your words and to change your mind, and you know that Joker knows you as well as you know him.
His stern attitude and the way that he won't let your dismissal of your own emotional state slide is the final straw, and those tears in your eyes begin to fall like rain. Joker coos in understanding and in love and he leans forward to put out his cigarette in the pink ashtray which rests on the coffee table. "Come here, doll." Joker pats his lap, a playful smile on his face. It does not reach his eyes and you know that he is only doing this to make you smile. It doesn't work. "Tell Joker all about it." His invitation is weighted with unspoken tension and you know that he's upset for you. It is likely that your own distress is why Joker isn't okay; so intuitive is he, so attuned to you is he.
All at once, everything comes crashing down and you are left to spin out of control, knowing in the back of your head that Joker will stop you from completely losing yourself. Your breath gets stuck in your throat, you gasp sharply, and your hands fly up to your throat. Your heart is pounding. Joker's face, sometimes unreadable to you because of the greasepaint, crumples, and he reaches out towards you with both hands, his fingers wiggling in the air: come home, my love. 
It is well known that Joker's lap is your throne of crimson, your most favourite seat, and like a moth to a flame are you drawn to your husband. Your arms stretch out of their own accord and your fingers interlock with his own. Joker tightens his grip and he squeezes your fingers in silent comfort as he tugs you forward onto his lap. You are home, dear heart, and you are safe. Your clown has you, just as he always has and he always will. Some part of you which loves you whispers soothingly to you, and you marvel at how your inner voice sounds like your husband, so completely has he changed you in the best of ways. You settle upon your throne as you straddle him, locking your legs behind Joker’s back. Your tears fall hot and fast and it is increasingly hard to breathe. Now that you are home are you safe to break, and Joker cups your face in his hands. The heat of him is seeping into your skin and warming you up from the outside inwards. His love for you always makes you feel just that...
Warm.
The tears which the calloused pads of his thumbs cannot brush away are caught by his painted lips. You wear Joker like a disguise every day and this is now mirrored in the way that his paint has rubbed off on your face. Joker shushes you soothingly and in response do you lean forward into his body, so that you can feel his chest rising and falling against your own. You close your eyes to separate yourself from the situation and you concentrate on matching your breathing to Joker's. Intuitive is he, and Joker begins to breathe deeper, steadier. Now, more than ever, do you need him. Now, more than ever, is he your rock.
Joker gives up on wiping your tears away, so hard and so fast are they falling and so sore are your eyes that he simply can’t keep up. He accepts that he cannot soothe your tears away and instead of fighting an already lost battle does he only wrap his arms around you; he will stay beside you until you are better. this he swears to himself. You bury your face in the warm crook of Joker's neck and your arms loop around his shoulders as you make yourself comfortable. The sharp angles of his shoulders dig into the flesh of your inner elbow and you shift yourself forward more so that all of you is comfortable. You’re settling in for a proper crying session, and neither of you would ever want for this to happen to you anywhere else. It feels like you are trying to climb into Joker's skin and he coos in empathy and in love, letting one of his arms fall away momentarily so that he can wrap his red blazer around you; pulling you impossibly tight into his body. In this moment is your entire self utterly surrounded by all that Joker is and all that he will ever be. He smells faintly of cigarette smoke, so adept is he at masking the smell of his main vice, of vanilla, of freshly washed laundry and of home. The low soothing hum of Joker’s shushing caresses your ears as the sound enters your head. It infiltrates your mind and it calms you from the inside, just as Joker himself calms you from the outside. You can feel his love around you like a blanket and the thought makes you smile; Joker has always been your clown blanket.
Joker feels you smile against his neck and he makes a pleased noise; if there’s one thing which he prides himself on, it’s being able to comfort you better than anything else or anyone else has ever been able to. “There you are,” He murmurs, one of his hands rubbing up and down your back in a soothing motion. “Just breathe for me, darling, can you do that?”
You do your best to nod, and just as you pull away to look at Joker's face, your breath hitches and your last shred of control shatters. It is here, on your throne of crimson, that you completely break apart, and Joker's lap catches all of your glass shards; so fragile and so mentally weak do you feel. He will put you back together and his love will be the gold which seeps into your cracks and keeps you whole. Joker coos again, a true hint of desperation in the noise. He sighs, the sound weighted in suppressed frustration. Joker is now just as rigid as you were only minutes ago and he does his best to keep his temper, knowing how you react to anger even when it isn’t directed at you.
It is not you that he is angry at, rather it is at whomever or whatever is making you feel as you are.
“Talk to me, my love. What’s going on up here?” To emphasise his point does Joker press a kiss to your temple and you move so that you can look at him, so that you can really look. Oh, but you’re so pretty in your pain and Joker’s breath catches in his throat at the sight of your red and glassy eyes, at your  tear stained cheeks, at how broken you look. “What’s the world done to you?” 
The question is a rhetorical murmur and you’re not entirely sure that you were even to supposed to hear it, but you answer him as best as you can through the burning of your lungs and the thickness of tears as yet unshed which rests in your throat and makes it difficult to swallow.
"I just feel... I feel so fragile. So weak and needy. I feel like I don't have a choice. When I go back to work even though we’re still under a lockdown, I'm putting myself and my family, my you, at risk of this virus. I didn’t want to say yes but if I hadn’t, then I would just be wasting my time just sitting around the apartment all day." You sigh and more tears flow down your cheeks, re-dampening tracks which have already dried, "I don't know what to do, Joker. I feel like I'm stuck in a cage of my own making and I've lost the key. I'm so scared and I'm angry because no one else seems to be as scared as I am, and that makes me feel like I'm alone in it. And if I'm alone in it, then that means that my feelings aren't real or I'm not reading the situation properly or maybe I'm just - oh, fuck this."
You give up. The more you speak, the worse you feel, and your breath hitches once more. It’s almost impossible for you to breathe on your own now and you are beginning to have a headache and - 
Joker catches your spiral. 
“Hey, no, Y/N - “ The shushing resumes and Joker begins to rock you back and forth in his lap, his jaw is clenching, his muscle ticking, and a look of consternation is on his face. He is angry but he is doing his best to keep himself in check. You are his focus in this moment and that’s all that matters to him. “Breathe, angel.” Doing your best to do just that, you begin to let yourself think. You use Joker’s body to ground yourself, to comfort yourself. You really appreciate the way that Joker doesn't tell you that it will be okay. He knows that you know that but he also knows that that's not what you need to hear; the only thing you need right now is to be loved exactly as you are in your worst moment. You need for him to stay, you need him to listen, and you need him to love you anyway. You just need your Joker, your favourite clown. As if he can read your thoughts, Joker says, "I'm here, Y/N. Not going anywhere."
Your grip tightens around Joker and he makes a noise of appreciation for the way that you so unashamedly cling to him. He is so proud of you in this moment for knowing what you need and for taking it without asking; you know that you don't need to. Everything that Joker is, everything that he is made of, is yours for the taking, and this is equally true in the reverse. As your breathing begins to come down, though still does your heart race like a hummingbird, Joker shifts you. No longer are you seated upon your throne crimson and with two large hands upon your hips does Joker settle you into lying down upon the worn sofa. Once you are laying out flat and comfortable, Joker reaches down with both hands and wipes away your tears with the calloused pads of his thumbs and then he lowers himself down onto you in a position which takes you back to the very early days of your relationship... 
He is your clown blanket.
“Focus on me, Y/N. Look right at me. You don’t have to speak, just - look at me.”
The more that you look at Joker, just taking him all in and seeing him for who and what he is, the more that you come down from your heightened emotional state. Joker’s sea green eyes hold your own and you can see a small smile growing in his real lips, making his macabre crimson one stretch even further up his face, as he sees that you’re beginning to calm down. He cannot solve your problems, but a problem shared is a problem halved and you’re already feeling a bit less scared, though still are you so overwhelmed with everything which is facing you soon. You have no choice, this is happening. Your breath catches at the thought and Joker shushes you quietly, his eyes full of understanding and of love; so tender hearted is the man who has all the love in the world to give, though only you want it. Only you had stopped to listen to Arthur’s song all that time ago. Only you want to hear the refrains of his music again and again. Only you want to sink into those same refrains and to never resurface.
Only you.
“ Th - thank you for being here for me, Joker. You’re my... I love you.” Your throat feels like it’s closing up, so emotional are you and Joker only makes a soft noise as he lifts his face from the crook of your neck and presses a series of gentle kisses to your forehead.
“I know,” His voice is thick with pride for you and you don’t even need to hear him verbalise this. You can feel it. “I love you too, Y/N. Forever and a day, remember?”
You do.
Joker wraps his arms around your middle and nestles down into you. Your chest is his pillow and your fingers find their way into his dark green romantic waves. You manually work out any tangles in his hair and Joker presses kisses wherever he can reach; you can feel the warmth of him seeping through the shirt that you wear - his shirt - and you feel all of yourself relax; body, heart, mind and soul.
You are scared and you are worried. You are upset and angry and tired but this day with Joker has revealed to you something which you already knew but you had forgotten in the light of how scary reality was shaping up for you:
You. Have. Joker.
You have your darling clown, you have the rings which you wear as a symbol of the love which you share, and you have yourself. You will be just fine, my love, if only you stop, and breathe, and remember that you have Joker. He won’t ever leave you, no matter what does or doesn’t happen, and not even Death will be able to tear the both of you asunder.
Gotham got what it deserved and now, within your marriage, so do the both of you.
AF/J @impulsiveclown @astheworlddturns @fluffedstar@jokersqueenofchaos @germansarechill @tsukiakarinobara @lynnesm @sagyunaro  @docsportello  @flowerglitterwoman@ben-solos-writing-avenger @jokers-doll @jokershyena@arthurjokersgirl @antonija89 @lilliryth @hotpacino@obsessedandthirsty  @call-me-harley-quinn
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tobiomlk · 4 years
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39 for kageyama if you can ....... please :')
𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿. kageyama tobio
𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘁. #39 “don’t cry.”
𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲. hurt / comfort !!! tobio is no good with tears and i love him
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Kageyama knows it’s bad when Suga-senpai confronts him about it.
“So,” he ambushes him during lunch time, around the vending machine (Of course he waits around the vending machine, Kageyama’s favoured spot to get his daily dose of milk). “What happened?”
Kageyama frowns. “About what?”
“You know what I mean.” However, Sugawara smiles, in that nurturing way of his that always makes Kageyama feel a little lighter. And a little troubled as well, because he can’t believe how utterly transparent he could be at times.
Kageyama chooses to direct his glowering towards the vending machine, gaze flickering between a carton of milk or yogurt, a predicament he struggled with each day— but which was considerably easier to deal with, next to the one he currently had at hand, that’s it. He growls when he notices the guilt is dawning upon him, again.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Sugawa asks, gently as ever, and Kageyama wants to say no, because a part of him does not wants to talk about it. But the other part, the vulnerable, insecure one, seems to be taking over him more often than not these days, and so he decides there’s no harm in speaking to a familiar face.
Far too violently, Kageyama presses both buttons simultaneously and lets the vending machine do the decision for him. “We had a fight,” he says, quietly. 
“So I heard,” Sugawara recognizes, but Kageyama isn’t really phased about it. Suga is, like, everyone’s go-to when it came for a comforting presence. He’s reliable, a good listener, and just as great at offering advice. He’s the type of person with lots of strengths that Kageyama himself lacks, and Kageyama can’t help but envy him, just a tiny bit. “It was that bad?” he probes, and Kageyama purses his lips in a flat line.
To put it truthfully, it wasn’t supposed to be that bad. To put it very frankly, it was incredibly and thoroughly moronic of both of you to have gotten so worked up over such a silly argument. Because that’s what it was; a silly argument, a minor discussion that the two of you blowed out of proportion and allowed to scalate the way it did. Stupid, sensitive teenagers.
“Have you tried talking to them?” Sugarawa asks.
“Yes,” Kageyama replies, but he doesn’t seem precisely happy. “but they don’t wanna talk to me.”
“The cold shoulder, huh?” Sugawara sighs, very much like a father would do. “Well, they can be quite petty, too.”
Kageyama nods in silence, lacking for better words. It frustrates him to no end, to be on such terms with you, to have you completely overlooking his existence. It frustrates him. And he doesn’t even gets to apologize or raise the flag of truce because you won’t even look his way. The mere thought is enough to have him slamming his head into the wall and scream at the top of his lungs.
“What are you planning to do, then?” 
Kageyama stops himself from doing so, though. “What can I do? They’re gonna ignore me anyways.”
“But you don’t want to let things go on like this, do you?”
Kageyama’s frowns deepens (if that’s even possible), but before his brain’s broken wires can sort out a way out of this fucking mess, his focus is taken away by a tiny little drop in his right cheek— followed by another one, and other one—
“Well, no one told me that it would be raining today,” Sugawara says as he looks up, gray clouds gathering above them. “C’mon, let’s get going before we get soaked.”
Kageyama agrees, although half-heartedly. For whatever reason, the light drizzle failing upon them seems to be reminding him of something, but he can’t exactly put his finger as to what it is. He always brings his umbrella, he couldn’t possibly have forgotten it—
Oh.
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“Oh, fuck it.”
Powerless, you stand at the entrance of the school as you take in how the harmless rain at the beginning of the day had evolved into a massive downpour. Most of the students proceed to head off under the shelter of their respective umbrellas; shelter you can’t afford because, mind you, you rarely cared enough to bring an umbrella of your own. 
Tobio always shared his with me, after all…
No. Don’t think about Tobio. Don’t think about Tobio and his pouty face and how he always puts up a fight before letting you get away with whatever you want, the space under his umbrella included. Don’t you think about it. You’re supposed to be mad at him, and rightfully so. He was mean (and so were you) and said mean things (and so did you) and you weren’t going to let it slide just like that. You had a pride to keep. Yes. You had one. 
(But what about him?) No, this isn’t about him. This isn’t about him. (He’s probably hurt, too) And that’s on him. He started it all (let’s be real, you kinda were at fault as well) and he’s gotta live with it. (But he tried? To apologize? Several times?) NO. You don’t wanna hear it. You’re mad, reasonably mad, and it’s perfectly warranted. You could be mad for the rest of your life, if you wanted to (but you didn’t). End of the discussion.
The rain comes down steadily. It doesn’t seem like it’s going to stop any time soon. Fuck it. You’re not letting the rain keep you stuck with your inner conflict any longer. You bend forward to make sure your shoes are strongly tied and place your backpack over your head, making the perfect shield. You’re Unstoppable now. No rain is getting into your way.
Ready, steady...
“What are you doing, dumbass?”
Go— Ok, no go.
You’re torn between offering him a snarky reply, scowling at him or simply icing him out, but once you lock eyes with Tobio all you want to do is (redacted). Oh, would you look at that, you brain has already repressed that memory!
“None of your concern,” you end up saying, immediately averting his gaze. Tobio can’t even feel glad about you finally breaking your vow of silence towards him.
“Is that so,” he replies, and you hate how defeated he sounds. How can you be mad at him if he doesn’t make it easy for you?
“Are you heading home?” he tries once again, and you’re definitely not endeared by it.
“Well, I was going to before someone stopped me.” 
“It’s raining,” he points out.
“It certainly is,” you agree.
An uncomfortable silence follows. It’s one you aren’t used to at all, especially around Tobio. It felt so wrong.
You’re oh-so interested into the tip of your shoes that it startles you a little when a familiar umbrella suddenly appears in your field of vision. You didn’t even feel Kageyama coming closer, but there he was; standing a few steps away from you, handing his very own blue-ish umbrella. It takes you a second to take in the whole situation.
“Here,” he says, not budging an inch from his position. There are so many things you could question, but you can’t even find your voice to do so. Kageyama scoffs. “Don’t give me that look. You never bring one yourself, do you?”
And then it hits you. Violently, like a sudden epiphany, even when it’s something you’ve known for a long time now.
He cares.
Seeing you aren’t trying to accept the offer, Tobio nudges the umbrella in your direction, vehemently. Nothing. He knits his brows together. He knows you’re stubborn, but so is he, and he isn’t taking a no for answer— Wait.
“... Are you crying?” 
It’s crazy how all it takes for you to crack are three words, because suddenly you’re choking on your own tears, so it’s kinda pointless to try to keep appearances now. And Kageyama dies a little, because oh my god you’re crying.
“Hey… Hey!” he flails, voice admittedly cracking. “Why are you crying? It’s— It’s something I did?”
But since you’re in no condition to speak up, his questions remain unanswered. He has never been at such a loss for words as he stares at you, sobbing and whimpering and scrubbing at your face just to let more tears stream down your cheeks, pretty much like a kid would do, which only makes it all the more heart-wrenching. All the more unbearable to witness.
Kageyama unconsciously searches in his pockets for a handkerchief or a tissue or anything that would make you stop crying, really, only to realize he doesn’t even has one of those to offer up. But there’s something in the way you cry your heart out that shakes him to the very core, that disarms him and calls for desperate measures. So, he does something he usually wouldn’t.
You flinch noticeably when a hand hesitantly brushes against your cheek. The touch is awkward, yet undeniably gentle, and you momentarily stop your crying to blink up at him through the tears. It’s blurry, but you can still make out his deep blue eyes. The way he freezes as soon as he’s caught, like he’s just broken some sort of unspoken rule by initiating physical contact and is waiting for divine retribution or something. His lips pursing in that signature pout of his. You take in every part of him, gratefully.
“You hate me?” You don’t even realize how uncalled for your question sounds until it’s out, but what is done is done, and Kageyama seems so genuinely bewildered— It’s almost laughable.
“How could I possibly hate you?”
And that’s all you need to put aside every bit of your stubborn pride.
“I don’t wanna fight anymore,” you state, finally.
Kageyama needs an actual second to register your words. “Ok,”
“I hate fighting.”
“Me too,” he admits, far too quickly to be insincere, far too unfiltered for your liking.
“I don’t wanna be mad at you,” You’re probably just running your mouth at this point, but you just can’t bring yourself to stop. “and I don’t want you to be mad at me, either.”
“I’m not mad at you.” he says, and it’s as comforting as it is nerve-wrecking. “And you don’t have to be mad, if you don’t want to.”
Sniffle. A tiny, selfish tear attempts to slip away, but Tobio wipes it before she gets too far. “So don’t cry…”
But crying does not obeys anyone’s command, so you keep sniffing and snivelling for a while until you’re finally done with it, and Tobio stays. He’d stay forever, if you’d let him.
Eventually, the rain ceases.
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hatsukeii · 4 years
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OH MY GOD I JUST HAD A GENIUS SONGFIC IDEA
I am once again disregarding requests-
I’m sorry I love you guys but I HAVE TO DO THIS
Due to popular demand via a vote on instagram, I have decided who to write about:DDD
Disclaimer: This fic is inspired by a Levi one I’ve read before, I don’t remember the author but if you find them or they find me props to you!!
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Remember When // Modern!Todoroki Shouto x reader
Word count: 2000+
Warnings: Cursing, idk if this is a warning but aged up characters
Summary: In a world where everyone is reincarnated, your search to find someone special ends somewhere nostalgic.
The memories shouldn’t stay.
They just shouldn’t.
That’s not how the world works.
What was supposed to happen, was you were supposed to die, forget everything, and get reborn. Start a new life, with a new face, meet new people, fall in love all over again, get married, have kids, grow old, die, repeat.
So why didn’t that happen to you too?
Why did all the memories come flooding right back the second you turned three? Why did you look the exact same? Throughout your teenage years, you desperately tried to get rid of everyone in your memories. Mina, Bakugou, Deku, Kaminari, Jirou, and most importantly, Todoroki.
Ah, Todoroki Shouto, your first and last love. How could you forget him?
For fifteen years of your life, you’ve been trying desperately to find him. 
But who’s to say he remembers you too? 
That possibility didn’t stop you from seeking out every opportunity to figure out whether he was still the Todoroki you used to know. The Todoroki you used to love so dearly. You prayed every night, that you would finally meet him again, not in your dreams, but in real life. No matter how hard you tried to burn the memory of him out of your mind, he just wouldn’t leave. You couldn’t let go of how he stared at you, those heterochromatic eyes staring into your soul as it lit on fire. You craved to feel his hand on your cheek, his lips on your head, his arms around your waist, you wanted it all back. It made you feel greedy, it did, but could anyone blame you? You had everything taken away from you the minute he died. You wished to pass away, so you could forget about him and start a new life, but ended up with this mess. Your emotions are hard to suppress. You’re just as in love with Todoroki Shouto as you were in another life. 
You were unlucky to be reborn like this, all the memories from your past life mixed with new ones. The school days at UA high, fighting villains alongside your best friends. The day you got married. The day you had kids. It was terrible, having those images in your mind, but being unable to fulfil the hunger and constant longing to do it all over again.
Walking down the street, you stop at a cafe. It’s a really nice cafe. Reminds you of the one you used to work part time at in your past life. Warm, dim ceiling lights, timber wall lining, Swiss cheese plants, a nice little island where baristas were busing brewing up steaming hot mugs of coffee, plush couch seats and wooden chairs accompanied with marble tables, and a little platform for occasional guests that would perform. The entire cafe radiates a nice vibe. It reminds you of what you used to have. Giving yourself a tiny grin, you push the door open, letting the little bells ring. Grabbing a couch seat, you settle yourself down, putting your headphones on in an effort to block out the noise other customers were making. “Good evening, miss. Would you like anything? I suppose you wouldn’t want coffee at such a late hour.” You position one of the sides behind your ear. What time is it? You bring your phone up to your face, squinting a bit at the bright screen, showing 7:15 in bold, white numbers. “It’s fine, I’ll just have a latte and your apple pie.” The waitress looks at you in confusion. “Miss, I haven’t given you the menu yet?” Eyes widening, you go silent, before plastering a smile on your face. “Regular, just not at night.” Did that convince her? The waitress bites her lip, tilting her head a bit, before jotting down the order and shuffling away quickly. 
The cafe is buzzing with excitement, talks of a band performing in a bit filling the air of the cozy space. You roll your eyes, not wanting to deal with it. You just got back from five lectures that you surely didn’t enjoy. The cafe is supposed to be a way for you to get some downtime, not for a band to ruin the peaceful atmosphere. Pulling your headphone back onto your ear, you mindlessly go through your phone, bored and uninterested in anything on your timeline. Every single post is about your friends with their valentines date. To you, valentines is truly, the worst thing to possibly celebrate. Not only is it is about a man that was tortured and eventually killed, it is also a reminder, that you’ll never be able to love someone normally because of those stupid, idiotic, utterly pointless memories that held you back. It doesn’t matter how many people your friends set you up with. You’ve had to reject over eight guys you were set up with, all because you simply can’t let go of Todoroki. It doesn’t matter whether he remembers, as long as you do, you’ll never be free of this hell. You get made fun of for being too uptight, too picky, too dense, when in reality you can’t help it at all. Whenever you even have the slightest thought of a different guy, Todoroki’s name plays in your mind like a broken record. Thinking about it now, maybe you don’t want to leave the memories behind. Maybe you want to remember them, no matter how annoying, shitty, and irritating they can be. Losing them would be like losing a part of yourself, and you didn’t want that.
“Miss, the latte, and the apple pie. Enjoy your food.” Picking up the tiny spoon, you fiddle around with the utensil, admiring it in all its simplicity. It isn’t a peculiar spoon or anything, just a normal coffee spoon that has a gold brimmed green end. Sticking it into the latte, you give the drink a good stir, not even paying attention to the coffee foam art that was there a second ago. Leading the brim of the cup to your lips, you carefully take a sip of the hot liquid. Nothing about it has changed. It tastes just as good as when you worked here. If only you could introduce this to Todoroki all over again. Eyeing the pie with lidded eyes, you cut out a chunk, taking it into your mouth as you reminisced the days, where you would feed him the exact pie. It was pretty impossible not to feel nostalgic in this place. Way too many memories were made here. First dates, first kisses, first mini concerts, this was like a shrine of key events in your past life. You continue to savour the rest of your food, saving the drink for last. Exhaustion is taking over as you hear the sound of cheering, a guitar strum, and a half recognisable voice. Slumping into the couch, you doze off, headphones slowly falling off. From onstage, heterochromatic eyes stare at your figure, mouth hanging as the band sets up their instruments.
He finally found you.
After all these years, he finally found you.
Never has he ever been so thankful for fate.
His situation was the same as yours. He was reborn, then regained memories from his past life, except he was never able to get a certain someone out of his head. For years, he performed at this particular cafe, hoping you would be there to watch him. He hasn’t been able to fall in love with anyone, despite having hundreds of fangirls craving for his hand in marriage. He spent immeasurable amounts of time delving deep into those past memories, trying to scrape together the song you oh so loved to listen to. The song that represented your life with him. Hours upon hours of bass practising, just for the sake of reuniting with you. Uncertainties burdened him night after night. What if you’ve already become a different person? Would all his work have been for nothing? Would the only place he can ever meet you again be his dreams, and the piles of the memories he still had with you? All those doubts were washed away with the look he gave you. That was definitely the (Y/N) he knew. From the iconic band hoodie, to the order of the cafe’s secret apple pie and latte. That was undoubtedly you.
“Guys, please let me play one song first.”
“Hah? Todoroki, you’re seriously changing it now?”
“Do me a favour, would you? Let me do that song first?”
The drummer’s eyes widened in realisation. 
“O-oh! Yeah, sure thing. Good luck, you get one shot.”
Hands on the mic, the cafe goes silent as the first riff comes on.
Headphones fully slipping off your ears and onto your neck, your ears are no longer protected from outside noises.
This song.
Letting your eyes flutter open, you shake your head, rubbing your eyes a bit from your little nap. Adjusting your headphones to hang nicely around your neck, you sit up from your position, steadying yourself with your hands. How long have you been asleep for? You groggily grab for your phone, wincing yet again at the bright light that shone through. You weren’t even able to fully comprehend the numbers on your screen, when a voice rang loud and clear.
“Thought I saw your shadow under the door,”
This song, I remember it.
What is this? You absolutely love it. The way the lyrics resemble a long lost friendship, it makes your heart clench with every word. You pull your phone up, trying to Shazam the lyrics. The song sounds familiar, yet so, so different from anything you’ve heard before. Typing in the lyrics rapidly, your search fails as nothing comes up. 
Dammit, what is this?
“I can never tell what’s real anymore, anymore, anymore.”
There’s no way. It has to be a real song. You swear on your life you’ve heard it somewhere. It’s lingering in the back of your mind, waiting for the right time to pop out. Cold sweat drips from your forehead as you go through all the songs you know. Your head hurts, your sight is blurry. Hands go up to grab your head as you squeeze your eyes shut, your phone dropping onto the plush couch.
No, I know this, I definitely do.
“It seems so long, it seems so long,“
Colours flash in front of your shut eyelids, almost giving you an epilepsy. Your mind travels into those god forsaken memories from your past life. Mina, Jirou, Kirishima, Bakugou, Deku, Todoroki, everything crashes right down on you. Panting heavily, you grab the cup of coffee, downing it in one go, hoping it helps with easing your mind. An image flashes in your head, sending jolts to your body. You and Todoroki in a cafe, listening to Wallows perform for the first time. That was your first date. Remember When became your song that night. It was a staple of your relationship. It was like the background music of your life story. Was there no Wallows now? The nostalgia that song brought you was immeasurable, yet you didn’t know it would have such an effect on you. 
Oh my god.
A moment of epiphany hits you like a truck.
“All the places I’ve returned to,”
“All the faces that remind you,”
Letting your head spring up, your eyes dart around the cafe, desperately trying to find where the song is playing from. You should know fully well it’s coming from the band that is intriguing the audience excellently. However, you’re still in a state of complete shock, refusing to believe your ears. The familiar tune resonates in the cafe, a silky voice serenading couples in the audience.
It’s him.
Your eyes lock onto the band.
Heterochromatic irises stare back at your watery ones. 
He looks just as good as before. His hair is still groomed, red and white parting in the middle. His turquoise eye shines with the gloss of tears as he sings his heart out on the stage, letting the tears roll down his cheeks freely. 
Covering your mouth with a shaky hand, tears freely fall from your eyelids as your mind goes blank. You can’t seem to peel your eyes off him. Your heart beats wildly as you let out a tiny gasp.
It doesn’t matter if the two of you only just met. At a cafe. 
Right now, you’re looking at someone you’ve known your entire life, and it feels ethereal.
I found you.
Finally.
Do you remember this?
Do you remember when we were the ones watching?
References:
Remember When- Wallows
Lyrics to said song
Cafe interior inspo lmao
Tags:
@sunshines-and-tatertots @izzyphantomgamer @trashcanweeb @burnt-tomato @tiger1719 @bokutokoutarou @poppirocks @just-another-bored-writer @justachillgirl @itmekisuu @kaylacinderella @random-fandomlover @skyeackermans @macaronnv @mariechan123 @xonfusedsoul​ @inlwlevi​ @talks-a-lot-of-stuff​ @ewfilthymundane​ @emsvegetables @estherwritess @shoutsukii @sakusasgarbage @agentvicinity @thirstyvolleyballhoe @artsamber @sneezefiction
Feel free to comment if you’d like to be added to the taglist!
For once I’m proud of something I wrote, please feel free to give me feedback, hope you like reading this<3
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My Strength - Risotto Nero
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I was sitting cosily cuddled up in my blanket, enjoying a warm cup of hot chocolate and a good detective-lawyer book by Steve Cavanagh, while listening to Guns’n’Roses in the background, when a loud bang comes from downstairs, and next thing I know, I see my younger sister dressed in my clothes, which was rather unusual, with a huuuuuge grin on her face.
“Whatever it is, the answer is NO.” I say sternly, turning back to my book. “But KAAAAAAAAAAT! There’s this rock pub that just opened and it’s very close to home! Come on, I wanna party! I haven’t partied in SO long! And you know I only trust you to take me home when drunk!” she begged, making me roll my eyes. “No wonder you stole my clothes without even asking me. The answer is still no. You know very well I’m not a party person.” I answer, flipping the page. “But siiiiiiiisssssss!!! It’s rock music! You like that kind of stuff! I promise we won’t stay long! J-Just an hour! Please, just get me out of the house, I’m going insane! Pleaseeeee!!” she got on her knees at the foot of my bed, and I could only sigh in aggravation, hitting my head with my book, before carefully placing it on the nightstand and getting up. “You owe me big time...” I mutter, going to get ready, as I could hear her loud cheer.
I put on an AC/DC Tshirt, with black jeans, black combat boots, a jeans chain, a necklace and do basic make up with a cute eyeliner and purple lipstick, before exiting and raking my fingers through my long, red hair, fixing my fringe out of habit, then put on my black scarf and a black cardigan, get motion for her to lead the way to the place she mentioned.
As soon as we got in, we could hear Guns’n’Roses’ November Rain, and thankfully enough, we found a single table for two, the only one available anymore... But it was next to a big round table where 9 very intimidating looking people stood and chatted, while drinking.
“Uhm...Maybe we should go back home.” I mutter, putting my hand on Christine’s shoulder. “What?! No way! Besides, they look so cool! They’re so hot! Think I can get laid tonight?” she smirked, dragging me to the table. “They look dangerous. I’d rather go home.” I sigh, covering my face with my scarf, feeling anxious. “All the hot people have this refined and mysterious vibe around them, otherwise they’d just be super dull! Liven up a little! Ah, look the song changed! It’s Ozzy Osburne, isn’t it?” she smirked at me with much pride, but I only dragged my hand down my face in desperation. “IT’S MARILYN MANSON, DAMN IT!” I growled a bit louder than I wished for, earning a few glances from the scary table, which made me hide my face even more. “Ah, whatever, who cares, same guy. I’ll go get drink.” she got up, but I quickly grabbed her wrist. “Get me a Pepsi, but make sure he doesn’t take the cap off.” I ordered sternly, as she shrugged off my hand, rolling her eyes.
Thankfully enough, she came back with the bottle just as I told her, and using my key, I easily take the cap off, and use a straw to drink the soda, before I hear one of the guys kept asking for a lighter, just then, I could see Christine’s eyes light up with lust, as she jumped to her feet in excitement.
“You still have that lighter with you, right?! You always play with it don’t you? Come on, give him a fire for his cig!” she grabbed me roughly, until he shoved me to the shaved man who looked like a hobo, who smirked up at me. “Ehhhh? What’s this, a bella ragazza wanting to enjoy my company?” he spoke, eyeing me creepily. “Don’t flatter yourself...She forced me to give you a light.” I mumbled, as I turn on the lighter and light his cigarette. “Why, thank you, gorgeous. Wouldn’t you like to stay with us?” he spoke in a slurry voice, putting one of his hands on my waist. “Paws off, or I burn you.” I threatened lowly. “Awww, little kitty has claws, how cute!” he spoke, but before he could finish the conversation, I turn the fire volume to the highest for a few seconds, which burnt his face...Or his big nose, rather, before turning it off back again. “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR, BITCH?!” he shot up to his feet, towering and glaring over me. “I warned you not to be a jerk. You play with fire, you get burnt.” I say in a low voice, raising my scarf slightly. “WHAT THE HELL, KAT?! WHY DID YOU DO THAT?! APOLOGISE RIGHT NOW!” Christine shook me slightly, which made me slap her hands away. “No. I’m going home, bye. Have fun with your little group of hot shots.” I shrugged, turning to leave, before she grabbed me again. “No! You can’t leave! Mum doesn’t let me alone by myself at night! She’ll punish you!” she shrieked desperately. “I live alone. I don’t care what she does, but she can’t ground me anymore.” I rolled my eyes, turning around, before the purple haired man got up. “Hey, Risotto, these 2 are pretty fun. What do you say we let them stay with us? There’s plenty of space around, right?” he smirked, which only made me more uncomfortable. “Don’t bother, I’m out. Ciao.” I shrugged, making a few steps towards the exit, before my sister started shouting after me. “Mum and Dad are gonna disown you if you leave me here all alone, y’know? You don’t want that, do you?!” I could literally feel her smirk, which made me whip around, glaring at her. “You’re lucky I care about our mess of a so-called family, otherwise I’d have been out of here faster than the speed of light.” I sneered at her, as I sat down on the seat brought by one of them, between the purple haired and the silver haired men. “Di molto, this is fabulous! Such a bella donna with a fiery attitude and a heart of gold, my, you’re perfect!” the purple haired man started grinning and gushing about me, which made me hide my face in my scarf feeling very uncomfortable. “Melone, stop that, you’re making her feel uncomfortable.” the silver haired man spoke up. “But Risotto, she’s so pretty! You can’t deny that! And you know what they say about fire-kissed girls~!” Melone smirked, which made me blush and bite my lip. “I don’t know, Melone, she’s pretty, alright. Pretty rude!” the guy whose nose I burnt grumbled. “I’m not rude, I’m just shy.” I mumbled, leaning back on my chair, still holding my scarf to my face. “Awwww, she’s so cute! That’s it, I’m adopting you! Formaggio, if you say one more bad thing about her, I’m killing you!” Melone growled at the shaved man, while putting his arms around me and pulling me to his chest. “Whatevs, her sister’s much better. Como ti chiami, bella signorina?” he flirted with her, and she was already gleaming, head over heels with glee. “Oh, brother...” I facepalmed, completely done with life. “This is gonna be a long night...” I rolled my eyes, getting out of Melone’s grasp. “Yeah, for me and Christine over here, sure will.” Formaggio’s sleezy smirked pissed me off, so I used a little power of my Stand to deduce where to throw my lighter, so it would bounce off the table, into his forehead, and then back to the table and perfectly in my hand. “I don’t really care what you do, as long as you aren’t disgusting enough to talk out loud like that. Nobody cares.” I say, throwing the lighter and easily catching it back in my hand. “HOW DID YOU DO THAT, PUTTANA?! YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS!” he shouted, shooting up to his feet, but the man on his right easily stopped him, shoving him to his seat. “Stop being such a nuisance, you’re gonna get us thrown out of this place, and Capo’s gonna be very pissed.” the dark haired man with hair hair tied in multiple places glared at him. “Capo...Huh. What a surprise.” I let out an amused breath.  “Capo? Who is Capo? And what kind of name is that?” Christine asked dumbly. “Oddio santo...How are we related...” I sighed in exasperation. “Actually, never mind. Capo is a...Uhm...A nickname for one of this guys. Y’know, all groups of friends have that one person who’s more of a leader? Capo’s kinda like that. Nothing important, so don’t fret over it.” I shrugged, waving my hand dismissively. “Oh, woaw, that’s pretty lame. How come you’re not Capo, Formaggio? You’re so cool and strooong~!” she kept touching his biceps, as he flexed. “Kill me.” I facepalmed, utterly disgusted. “May I speak to you outside for a moment?” Risotto got up, extending me his hand. “Sure.” I mutter, getting up without taking his hand. “Huh...The music can still be heard from outside too. That’s pretty neat.” I said softly, leaning back on the wall. “You know.” he stepped in front of me, looking at me with stern eyes. “Of course I know, I’m not stupid. I’ve known since I first saw you. I just wasn’t sure what you were exactly.” I shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “Why aren’t you running away?” his voice was obviously an interrogation one. “If you’re the Mafia, I can guess you’re Passione...We used to live in a different city, where Buccellati’s gang was protecting the city, and trust me when I say this, but regular criminals wouldn’t teach a guy a lesson for beating up his elderly mother, nor would they try to keep themselves in peace with the whole city like that. I sort of...Owe a favour to Passione because of that...And honestly, you think I can just pick that idiot up and get her out of here that easily? Look at me and my noodle arms and realise that I sometimes struggle to open water bottle caps, okay?” I looked away in embarrassment, hearing a low, amused chuckle coming from him. “Melone was right, you’re pretty fun. What sort of favour do you owe Passione?” he asked simply. “Now, then, don’t you think you’re getting a bit too curious? What happened is between me and Capo Buccellati...Then again...You DO kill, don’t you?” I shifted my gaze to him, smirking slightly. “What makes you think that?” he answered my question with another question. “Buccellati’s gang had a much more protective and gentle aura surrounding them. You and your people are much more threatening and menacing. Especially you...Capo.” I spoke in a softer voice, not sure how to react. “You do realise I’d have to kill you now that you know our secret, correct?” he asked rhetorically, yet his actions betrayed no malice. “It’s your partner’s fault he let that slip, not mine. Besides, it’s not like I could do you any damage, correct? I’m just a frail little girl who is studying to become a Vet. A girl who’s half your height isn’t too threatening, is she?” I chuckled breathlessly, as the song changed to Metallica’s Unforgiven and I unconsciously started humming the chorus. “You’re spared, however, you will have to keep this secret all your life. In addition, to protect our secret, you will have to join our organisation. Medicine is still Medicine, humans are mammals, so if we need help, you won’t be a burden. On a side note, next month is a Metallica concert, if you want to go.” his words had a paralytic effect on my nervous system, so much that I could only stare at him with wide eyes, much like a fawn meeting her hunter. “Katrinaaaaaaaa! Let’s go home with these guys~!!!” all of a sudden, the pub’s door was slammed open, which made me jump and squeal in fright, only to realise it was my sister, dragging Formaggio away. “Wh-What...?!” I could only stare at them with my jaw agape, many question marks appearing above my head. “Come on, have some fun! You can fuck Risotto and Melone all you want too, don’t be so shy!” she giggled, obviously, but despite that, my face became redder than a rose and I had to hide my face in my scarf. “Katrina, huh? What a nice name. Let’s go.” he guided me to the car, and getting in, I glued myself to the door, not wanting to touch anyone by mistake.
---
It sure has been a while since we met, I thought to myself as I snuggled closer to Riz’s chest. I’m still very shocked how our relationship developed so easily and so fast, while my relationship with my sister only went down the hill, just as fast. Not that it was any surprise, to say the least. The only reason why I still answer calls and go to family gatherings is because I have a very conflicted moral and ethical compass, unfortunately, and I’m too afraid to sever the ties that keep be caged.
A year already passed since I was ultimately forced to join La Squadra Esecuzioni, and to be fair, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be, considering they are a bunch of killers. Being the only girl around, and being such a shy trainwreck, it sort of made them try to make me feel comfortable around them...And by that, I mean mostly Melone, Risotto and Prosciutto. The others were more passive...While Formaggio was still a jerk, most likely because I tarnished his pride twice with a simple lighter, and Ghiaccio was...Always in a weird mood. I was mostly allowed to stay at home, no problem, continue my Vet education, while in very rare occasions, I was called over to heal anyone that needed it, or told to go on a mission with someone, but nothing too bad, nor that put me in any danger.
Now, I should emphasise the word ‘ME’ since it wasn’t ME who got in grave danger, but Risotto, in a mission, about 6 months after I joined the Gang.
Pesci and Illusio put Risotto on the bed while I got by his side and to examine how grave his injuries are, and as soon as I realise the hemorrhage and I told everyone to get out as I ripped off his blouse and took out my Stand, and put her hands over his injury, using my healing water to stop the bleeding and stitch back the flesh.
---
It took quite a while, but after hours of tending to him, his injuries were completely healed, and yet, he was still unconscious.
After making sure that he’s comfortable in bed, I go to the kitchen, make something fast to eat, get a bottle of water and get back to Riz’s room, and thankfully enough, he was still asleep. I put the tray on the nightstand and sit on the side of the bed, holding his hand in both of mine, gently stroking it and kissing his knuckles, waiting for him to wake up.
“Kat...?” I hear a groggy voice call out my name, and snap my head up, only to see Risotto’s eyes fluttering open. “Yes, I’m here, Riz. You’re alright, you’re home. Don’t worry about a thing.” I lean towards him, brushing his fringe away. “The mission...” he mumbled, still exhausted. “It’s okay, the others took care of it. I healed all your injuries, but you should still rest for a while. Take it easy.” I smile softly at him, still stroking his hand. “You did well, Katrina. Thank you.” he said, slowly getting up into a sitting position. “Here, you should eat and drink to regain your strength.” I explain, putting the tray in his lap. “I’ll let you rest.” I was about to get up, but I was stopped by him grabbing my wrist gingerly. “Will you stay?” Risotto asked, which made me smile softly, sitting back down next to him. “If you want me to.” I said, looking down slightly. “Are you scared of me, Katrina?” he asks, making me snap my gaze to him. “What? Where did you get that idea from?” I asked, blinking in surprise. “You always avoid eye contact. You always look away. Why?” he asked in a serious tone. “...Uhm...I don’t know, I guess I’m just shy. I’ve never been able to hold eye contact with anyone.” I mutter, scratching at my neck, a habit I have to combat anxiety. “I remember, I know that. It’s a pity.” he took my hand in his, while I was still confused. “What do you mean? It’s no big deal...It’s not like I really have friends to annoy with that or anything.” I shrugged simply. “It’s a pity that someone as nice as you lets others take advantage of her.” he says, which made me bite my lip and frown. “Why does it matter so much? I’m just your subordinate, you call me when you need my help.” I raise my eyebrow in confusion. “You’re not just a subordinate, Kat. You were forced into this. You shouldn’t be involved with the Mafia, you’re a kind soul. You’re so kind that you let your sister make you miserable.” he pointed out, which made me get up, looking at him awkwardly. “I don’t get why you’re so interested in this all of a sudden. I’ll let you rest, good night.” I say, but the instant I turn around, I hear a commotion from behind me, and I see Risotto getting up. “Wait, no, don’t get up, you haven’t rested yet!” I instinctively rush to his side, putting my hands on his shoulders to put him back in bed. “A subordinate wouldn’t behave like this. You saved my life, so I owe you a favour. Ask anything of me, and I will give it to you.” he said, which made me tsk at him. “You let me and my sister live, when you could have killed me. Consider me saving your life a debt paid, so we’re even. Now please leave this be and stop pretending to care.” I looked away, ready to leave. “And if I do? Am I not allowed to?” he spoke with as much firmness as usual. “Why would you, anyway? It’s not like I’m anything special. Why do you insist so much on this?” I sighed, looking at him with a deadpan expression. “Because you are special, and if you had someone to support you properly, you would know that. Kat, let me be your strength and stand up to those that are being toxic to you, even if those people are your family.” he stepped in front of me, gently brushing the back of his hands against my cheeks, before he raised up my face slightly. “I...I can’t do that...I can’t...I...” I stuttered, feeling my eyes starting to water. “Why can’t you, Kat? What are you so afraid of?” he asked, stroking my hair. “I asked Buccellati to get revenge on my ex for what he did to me. My family’s no different...But family is family, I can’t do anything about that except listen and do what they say.” I explain with a sigh “Nothing like that will ever happen to you, I can vow for that. Just let me be your strength, the same way that you and your kindness are the reason why I don’t forget my humanity.” he confessed genuinely, which made my bottom lip quiver. “Is that really...Okay...?” I spoke, barely audible, to which he smiled softly. “I don’t see why not, dear.” Riz leaned in, brushing his lips against mine so softly and tenderly, almost as if afraid that I’d break, which wasn’t far from the truth.
---
That night was free for the both of us, so we thought it would be nice to go for a walk by the beach, look at the twilight as the Sun set and the sky was painted in all the most beautiful colours. We walked with our feet in the water, my arm loosely wrapped around his waist, while his was pulling me into his side by my shoulder. Everything was chill and calm, and yet, my nerves were on the edge, even now.
I guided him to the little pontoon bridge and let our feet dangle, touching the sheen of the water.
“Go on, cara mia, I know you want to tell me something.” Riz pulled me closer to him, kissing my head. “Risotto, darling...You know that I hate social interactions, right? Well, mostly because I’m very bad with them.” I ask, speaking in a soft voice. “You’re not rude, just shy, was it?” he chuckled lightly, looking up at the now starry sky. “Yeah, something like that, I guess. I forgot I even said that when we first met.” I shrugged with a smile. “Remember my sister?” I ask again. “Ah, yes, the one who tried to fuck the whole Squadra, but only managed to get Formaggio, right?” he let out an amused breath. “The one and only.” I smiled slightly, before it faltered. “My cousin is getting married and she invited both of us. I...I don’t know what to do. I really don’t wanna go...But...” I trailed off with a sigh. “Family is Family, huh? You’re still going on with that.” he asked rhetorically, looking at me as I could only nod. “Want me to come with you?” “You’re my only friend, Riz. Having you there would make things much easier to cope with...But...I also wouldn’t want to subject you to such torture.” I mutter with a sadness. “How bad could it be?” he smirked, which made me snap my head to him, frowning. “I wouldn’t wish it to anyone. Not even my worst enemies.” I speak in a clear, firm voice, to get my point across. “I’ve been through almost dying quite a few times because of our Boss. I’m sure I could survive it.” he ruffled my hair playfully. “Are you sure you’re willing to go through that kind of emotional torture just for someone like me?” I tilt my head up to look at him. “I’d go to the end of the world for you, pick up the stars and put them in your hair.” he declared, which made me hide my face in his chest, hugging him as tightly as I could, no longer able to hold back my tears. “I don’t deserve someone like you, Riz. I’m not even worthy of standing around you. You’re an angel. I want to be selfish, I want you to never leave me, but honestly, I don’t deserve you and your kindness.” my voice trembled, just like my body, and then, I could feel his embrace loosening slightly, as he put his hands on my face, lifting my face up to plant a kiss on my forehead. “I know you can’t see how special you are to me, but even so, I’m not going to let go of you. Ever.” he stroked my hair, letting me calm down.
---
Of course, Melone was sweet enough to come with me to help me choose the right dress, and then helped me with my make up and hair, saying that his cute little sister should have an amazing date and feel beautiful.
“Oh, I feel so, so awkward...Dresses aren’t my thing. Get me out of here.” I tugged at my wavy hair, curled for the first time, no longer as untamable as usual. “I don’t know about that, I think you’re beautiful.” he stepped closer to me, rolling up the sleeves of his blazer to show off his tattoos.  “Me? Beautiful? Look at you, Riz! You’re perfect!” I frowned, pouting as I poked his chest with my finger. “Let’s go inside, it’s getting chilly. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.” he chuckled, putting his arm around me, guiding me inside the restaurant. 
I gripped Risotto’s sleeve tightly, wrinkling it in the process. We were met by my cousin, who was with my sister and our mother, who looked at us with a fake smile and obvious disgust in their eyes.
“Oh, so you made it. With a hook up, nonetheless. Bailed him out of jail?” mother sneered at us. “Uhm...N-Nothing of the sort. Uhm...Congrats on getting married, Anne. I’m happy for you.” I smiled anxiously, not able to look up at them. “Well, at least one of us. You’ve no chance, anyway. Who’d want someone who can’t even speak, hold eye contact or touch someone?” the bride laughed, while the other 2 women joined in, even louder. “Yeah, I know. Where are our seats?” I asked, sighing. “Oh, right, they are at the family table. I’m so glad you’re here, everyone’s gonna have so much fun, just like at all family gatherings!” she smirked, pointing at the round table in the center of the room. “Thanks.” I muttered, dragging Riz to the table, taking a deep breath to calm myself. “I see what you meant now by torture. How are you related to them? You’re nothing like them.” Riz scoled in annoyance. “I wanna go home...” I bit my lip, not daring to look up at him. “God, give me patience, because if you give me strength, I’ll burn everyone alive.” I pouted, feeling done with life. “I can set Metallica on them all, if you want.” he touched my cheek with the back of his hand. “Let’s go home after one hour. I can’t do this too long. I’ve barely been able to get myself back together since I’ve met you...And now...” I intertwined my hand with his, dangling it down between our chairs, as everyone sat down.
Of course, seeing me there only made them exclaim in surprise as I usually never leave the house, go to social events or anything of the sort. There’s always that family member that everyone must mock, tease and taunt, and I was the one luck enough to draw the short end of the stick.
“Oh my, how come you found someone willing to touch you with all that fat?” “I wonder which of you is more desperate to stay with the other!” “I’m surprised someone could stay around a boring nerd like you who’s afraid of men.”
These, and many more, were the things I kept hearing from everyone, until the groom finally arrived at the table...A man older than even my father.
“Oh, great, she has a Sugar Daddy. No wonder everyone’s kissing her ass like that.” Riz grunted next to me. “It’s fine...Calm down, it’s okay. We can leave soon.” I squeeze his hand under the table. “Wow, Katrina, I didn’t think you were this bold! Giving your hook up a handjob under the table! My opinion on you changed, you’re actually a freaky nympho!” my sister laughed in a pitched voice, which made me squee in shock and go red like a strawberry. “That’s it, I’ve had enough of this fucked up and disfunctional family. Even Passione is saner than them, and that says a lot. Come on, Kat, we’re leaving before I kill them all.” Risotto glared at them with his piercing red eyes as he grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of there. “Hold up, I’m calling Melone to get us home.” he grumbled, talking on the phone. “I’m really, really, really sorry, Risotto. I shouldn’t have asked you to come in the first place. Now I made you feel bad and that’s not cool at all.” I pouted, looking down at my feet. “I don’t want to hear it.” he spoke in a stern voice, hanging up and looking straight into my eyes. “Don’t apologise. I come with you because I knew you’d need someone to support you. But I wasn’t expecting it to be this bad. Now I can understand you better...Katrina, will you let me be your family?” he asked, so suddenly, which made me gasp in shock and confusion. “Wh-What are you saying, Riz...? I don’t quite follow...” I stammered, not sure how to react. “I love you too much to watch such a gentle and kind person like you get eaten alive by her own family. I know you’re too soft to allow yourself to sever any ties with people, but if you let me, as your boyfriend, be your sword and shield, I promise to take care of you and make sure nothing bad ever happens to you ever again. The Squadra already sees you as a family and as disfunctional as they are, they’d be a much better family than your blood one.” he explained, as he opened the car door and helped me in. “I can be your sis, if you want. I’d love to do your hair, nails and make up more often!” Melone smirked in the driver’s seat, which made me blush slightly. “See? It’s all gonna be much better if you stay with us. As family, not as a subordinate or anything of the sort.” Riz gave me the ghost of a smile. “Is it really okay for someone like me to join you, guys? I’m pretty useless...I can’t even stand up for myself. I’ll only be a burden.” I bit my lip, looking away. “Mi Tesoro, you are the embodiment of sunshine. These guys need someone like you around, and with your healing ability that you Stand has, just like how you saved me that day, you can help the others as well. Strength doesn’t have to be only physical, it can be mental, emotional and supporting, and Kat, you can be that Strength for us.” Riz stroked my hair gently, kissing my forehead. “I’m sure Prosciutto will be grateful to have you around more often, since you’re one of the only normal people he can have a sane conversation with. Gelato and Sorbet will be super excited to have someone to gossip and go shopping or get dating and fashion advice. Hell, maybe you’ll be able to solve the others’ behavious problems too. Kat, listen to Capo, he knows how to use everyone’s strengths.” Melone explained. “Eyes on the road, Melone.” Riz smirked, pointing out his lack of focus, to which the purple haired man grinned sheepishly, snapping back to watch the road. “Okay...Okay, Riz, I trust you. So...Please, take care of me.” I smiled shyly at him, holding his hands. “That’s the smile that lights up my days and warms up my heart. Keep it on, you’re my reason to keep on going.” Risotto kissed my lips gently, putting his forehead to mise. “Okay, Riz, I’ll be your strength, and you’ll be mine. Ti amo, amore mio. Thank you for putting up with me.” I grinned widely, feeling my heart beating faster. “Ti amo anch’io, fiore mio. One day, when we’ll be able to live a more normal and peaceful life, I promise I’ll marry you. You’ll be the most beautiful bride in the world, you’ll shine even brighter than the Sun. I want to make you the happiest woman and make sure this gorgeous smile of your will remain forever this way.” he hummed, putting a strand of hair behind my ear, before kissing me even more tenderly than before. “Ahhh, young love, you guys are so adorable. Can I be the Maid of Honour?” Melone looked at us through mirror. “Well, I will need one, so definitely!” I giggled softly. “It sure as hell ain’t gonna be her sister. Actually, never mind, none of your family is invited, unless you let me use Metallica on them.” Riz grumbled slightly, which made me chuckle louder. “Honestly, I don’t even care, do what you want. Have fun.” I grinned carelessly, which made him smirk. “That’s what I like to hear, babe.” he kissed my nose softly.
Soon enough, we arrived at home, and we thanked Melone for going through all the trouble of driving back to my home, before we changed in our sleepingwear, which for him was a pair of long PJ pants, and for me, one of his old band Tshirts and short, and we got in bed, cuddling the whole night.
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jinmindeulle · 4 years
Text
of love and other poems | myg
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word count: 3.2 k
pairing: min yoongi x reader
genre: art gallery au, pianist/artist au, pianist!yoongi x artist!reader ∣ almost smut?, fluff
warnings: minor cursing
a/n: and with of love and other poems, i officially get started with my bts works! i have been waiting so long for this moment, especially because i love bts with my whole heart and they are my ultimate everything. although seokjin’s my bias, i had to get started with the bias wrecker. more things to come!!
happy reading! ♥
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My hands were tinted with every colour of my palette. Most of my paintbrushes were used, spread over my dark wooden table, also painted with multiple colours and materials. Luckily, my floor was covered with a thousand plastic sheets that Taehyung had given me after seeing how messy my art room got every time I stepped inside it. That’s why I recently stopped trying to clean it. There’s no use when I literally have been spending my entire afternoons here.
“Could you book it, Tae? Are you sure that no one’s taking my place that day?”
“Relax, y/n” he chuckled, showing me the Seoul’s National Art Gallery’s website in his laptop “I have already booked yours and mine, and I checked twice. It’s going to be alright”
“You know that this is no joke, and I always get anxious over fucking everything!” I sighed, walking backwards some steps so that I could take a look at my last piece “What do you think? I’m planning to have this one at the entrance”
“So that’s the intro? It’s stunning, y/n” Tae smiled, displaying his boxy grin “You’ll graduate with honours! I’m so proud of you!” he hugged me tight, shaking our bodies with excitement.
“You too!” I giggled, hugging him back.
Although I was constantly worried about how well my art would do in every class, Taehyung was always there to reassure me and make sure that I was satisfied. Nearing our college graduation, however, my insecurities got worse and worse. Surrounded by talented people, including my best friend, I knew for a fact that I was going to have a hard time coming up with something creative and meaningful to display as my final exam. At the same time, we were not only in charge of our work, but also of booking our place at the Seoul’s National Art Gallery on the weekend that our delivery was due, of arranging our pieces and exhibiting them for the general public as if we already were the professional artists that we hoped to become after that damned exam. My anxiety levels were reaching their peaks as that day got closer, so Taehyung made sure to spend as much time with me as possible.
“Don’t you need to get back to your apartment? You had to finish your last piece too” I pouted.
“I can manage”
“Tae…” I whined “You know how much I appreciate and thank you for being here with me, but you need to focus on your exam too. Go home, I can deal with myself for a bit”
“It’s okay, really” he took my chin with one of his large hands and playfully shook my head “Jimin is practicing his routine for his own final exam and I-”
“Need silence to paint, I know” I interrupted him, chuckling “So you’ll stay the night, then?”
“Seems like you want to” he teasingly wiggled his eyebrows, earning an arm smack from me “Ouch!”
“Go order some pizza while I take a shower, dummy”
.
.
Although some say that taking a shower is a way of relaxing, I highly disagree.
Less than two days away from my final exposition, my head wouldn’t stop thinking and re-evaluating every aspect of my already finished pieces, going over every detail that could go wrong that day. I knew I had taken care of everything and anything, but it still felt like something was missing. My art was there, ready to take to the gallery and exhibit, I rehearsed and rehearsed what to say about each piece probably a thousand times and my outfit was already picked up, obviously by Tae. What else was there to complement my artwork?
As I dried my hair, going over the poem that was behind my paintings in my head, Taehyung’s deep, caramel voice came muffled through the bathroom’s door. He was singing that same old song that complimented his tone like no other. Enjoying the melody, I turned off the hair dryer and got started with my night-time skincare routine, softly humming along Tae’s voice.
It was then when it hit me.
“That’s what I fucking need!” I yelled, running out of the bathroom with half of my face covered in my green facemask.
Taehyung’s eyes went wide upon seeing me desperately going in circles around the coffee table, screaming nonsensical words and having the eleventh mental breakdown over the course of the afternoon. But as he was too used to my stupidity, he got up from the couch and stopped me on my tracks, putting his big hands on my shoulders. “Calm down, y/n, what’s wrong now?”
“I need music!” I panicked “My art gallery won’t be complete if I don’t fucking have live music to accompany the mood! It’ll be utterly horrible!” my eyes watered “How the fuck do I find a decent musician in less than 48 hours?!”
“God, y/n, I thought you were questioning your life choices again” he sighed, engulfing me in a comforting hug. I felt some tears go down my face, angry at myself for letting those dumb things get to my head as fast as they pop up. I embraced his waist, cuddling closer to his neck but trying not to stain his pale-blue linen shirt with my facemask. “I know someone that could help”
“You do?” I sobbed, dethatching my face from his collarbone and looking up at his bright orbs.
“He’s a wonderful pianist and has brilliant taste in music. I’ll call him tomorrow first thing in the morning”
“You’re amazing, Tae” I cried, going back to his tight hold “I don’t know what I would do without you”
“Me neither” he chuckled, kissing the top of my head.
.
.
“You’ll do like no other, honey bunch. Just breath in and out, calm yourself down and most importantly, enjoy. You’ve been working so hard for this day and you cannot let it go to waste. You’ll smash it”
Once again embraced in Taehyung’s arms, I breathed in his scent as an attempt to calm down my beating heart. No one had arrived yet, but I was already at my fifth mental breakdown. All of the hard work that I had non-stop been carrying out for the past four years was hanging by a thread today, and as my best friend said, I could not ruin it by being a dumb bundle of nerves. Just when I was finally keeping my heartbeat under control, Tae’s phone started buzzing inside his suit’s pocket.
“That must be my pianist friend” he muttered, taking a look at his iPhone screen. “Yep. He’s here already, let me go get him!”
“Okay” I sighed, straightening my dress as he jogged out of the room.
My art pieces were already hanging on the walls, telling the story that I had wanted them to tell for so long. Each one had their own meaning, their own reason to be. Unlike those first paintings of mine, these had a purpose and they were able to talk to the observer, but only if they closely paid attention to every detail.
“That’s spectacular”
Such unfamiliar voice took me out of my thoughts, making me turn around to find the face that matched it. And goddamnit. Dumbfounded, speechless, mouth dried. That pianist was indeed spectacular.
“Th-thank you” that was all I could say. Damn, y/n, get it together!
“Min Yoongi” he stretched his hand, and I awkwardly shook it, praying to whatever God was above us to just let my blushing cheeks go back to normal as soon as possible.
“y/n l/n”
“Taehyung told me” he smiled, shoving his hands inside his pockets and looking around the gallery “I meant it when I said they are incredible”
“I-I appreciate it” I tightly closed my eyes, breathing in and out to help my heart beat at normal pace once more “And thank you for coming on such a short notice” I opened them up, just to find his endearing face looking at me with a soft smile over his rosy lips “It was a last-minute thought and I really needed music for my exhibit”
“I had the day off, so no worries. I know how important music is and I just wanted to help. Plus, I owed Taehyung a favour”
“It means a lo-”
“y/n! Professor’s here with a bunch of people!” a frantic Taehyung came running into the room, interrupting my exchange with the ravishing pianist “Get into place, you dummy! And you too, hyung!” and immediately after screaming at us, he went back to his place as my gallery’s receptionist.
“Good luck, artist. I’ll do my best to reach your standards” and with that, he walked straight to the giant shiny piano that was laying right in front of my last, ‘outro’ piece, and smoothly ran his expert fingers over the keys.
[BGM: i need u, piano version]
I could not take my eyes off of his veiny hands the moment he got started with his fascinating art, making me instantly regret having Taehyung take care of my one a.m. requests.
“How stunning, Miss. y/n!”
.
.
I was nearly running out of energy when Taehyung informed me that the last visitor was out of the room. He hugged me so tightly that I thought I was about to pass out, but at that point I could not care less.
“I’m so proud of you, honey bunch!” he giggled, picking me up from the ground and squeezing the life out of me, as he always does “It was impressive. Everyone loved it! You should have heard how they complimented your pieces as they left the gallery!”
“Tae…” I answered with difficulty, trying to catch some air “You’re clutching… me too… tight!”
“Sorry!” he put me down, arranging some of the hairs that went out of my perfectly styled bun.
“Thank you Tae” I sighed with a content smile “You made this possible too. And I will be there for you next week just as you were here today. I love you” I kissed his cheek, making him get flustered just as I wanted him to. “Now go home. You need to rest”
“But-”
“Kim Taehyung!” I interrupted him “I’ll finish here. I want to stay for a bit on my own and then I’ll go home.”
“Fine” he pouted “But you text me when you get home, please. It’s too late for you to be walking on the streets all alone”
“M-hm” I nodded, watching him go backwards as he waved at me “See you, babes!”
“Be careful!”
“Yes, dad” I shook my head, giggling at his antics.
Once he was out of the room, I heavily sighed and glanced back to where my paintings where. I studied them once more, pretending as if I was looking at them for the first time. Maybe the story that I wanted them to tell could be something else when a different eye observed them. Art is relative, and so were interpretations.
“W.H. Auden?”
His deep, raspy voice startled me once again, but this time I didn’t have to turn around to see him. He was right by my side. I could perceive his calm breaths while taking in the sight of my ‘intro’ piece, his eyes sparkling with something close to admiration, to esteem, to wonder.
“How’d you know that?”
“I like poetry” he softly smiled, tearing his gaze away from the painting to fixate his eyes on my own “It’s ‘The More Loving One’, right?”
“Wow… that’s… that’s impressive” I bit my lip, astonished by the man’s capacity of interpreting my intentions in mere seconds “I thought that nobody was going to get it”
“I just like art in general” he shrugged. We fell in a comfortable silence, both of us immersed in our own thoughts. However, the pianist was quick to keep the conversation flowing once again. “Let me guess… Looking up at the stars, I know quite well… That, for all they care, I can go to hell… But on earth indifference is the least… We have to dread from man or beast” he recited, with no rush and honeyed deep voice. He gently took my wrist with his hand and slowly directed me towards my second painting. My heartbeat rapidly increased upon feeling his warm touch, and I thanked Taehyung for letting me wear comfortable heels, or else I was soon going to end up collapsing on the floor “How should we like it were stars to burn… With a passion for us we could not return?… If equal affection cannot be… Let the more loving one be me.”
When we reached the following set of paintings, I was, by this time, in Cloud 9. Despite this, I still needed him to stop his astounding display of knowledge about my favourite poet, because he was already becoming something else for me. So I took over “Admirer as I think I am… Of stars that do not give a damn… I cannot, now I see them, say… I missed one terribly all day”
“Were all stars to disappear or die… I should learn to look at an empty sky… And feel its total dark sublime… Though this might take me a little time” he finished for me, as we arrived to the last trio of paintings “As much as I worship Auden, I disagree” he muttered, observing my ‘outro’ painting. “Do you think that love is fleeting and impermanent?”
“It depends… He’s talking about unrequited love, though. That kind of love should be fleeting and impermanent” I looked at him, studying his gorgeous features. He pressed his lips together and his brows snapped together, returning my gaze.
“Is unrequited love less than the requited one?”
“Of course it is” I chuckled “You cannot expect someone to love you just because you love them. You need to get over them, even if it takes you your whole life”
“Still… do you love someone any less when they do not love you back?”
“Not really. But the difference lays in the fact that you won’t ever get that with the person who doesn’t love you. Imagine having to deal with that kind of indifference just because you adore them”
“Wouldn’t you rather your lover be indifferent towards you when the other possibility left is hating you?”
“Oh, c’mon! Does self-love apply here?”
“I don’t think you ever get to love yourself more than a person that makes you feel alive” he replied, his velvety voice becoming deeper and mesmerizing, his eyes never leaving mine “Do you love yourself more than your lover?” Yoongi murmured, getting closer. Our breaths were now blending together, making it difficult to distinguish which was his and which mine.
“I-I don’t…” I stuttered, feeling the intensity of his eyes “I don’t have a… lover” I finally muttered back, unable to tear my eyes off of his.
“Let’s fix that, then”
Yoongi’s mouth found mine in a heavy, hot kiss. His lips took over mine without much effort, slowly angling his face to deepen it. I was quick to let him in, feeling how his soft tongue gradually brushed my own. I took the initiative, pulling him by the neck to get him closer, as if that was even possible by now. His hands gently caressed my hips, securely taking place on my lower back. I tugged my mouth away from his, trying to catch some air, but he was shortly after chasing my lips to pepper light kisses over them.
“I need…” I breathlessly muttered in between kisses “to close… down”
“I’ll help you” he replied, giving me one last, sloppy peck. “I’ll take you home after”
.
.
I could hardly close the door as soon as we entered my apartment. My hand was struggling, trying to get inside the lock as Yoongi peppered wet kisses down my neck while caressing my waist from behind me. A few minutes went by, my mind getting cloudier. He must have realized, because he chuckled against my neck, taking my shaking hand with his and rapidly locking the door “All set”
I turned around, taking his cheeks with my hands and directing his lips to mine, parting them to get better access to his hot mouth. I started walking, slowly but surely taking him down the corridor and right into my room, loudly closing the door once inside.
.
.
“Do you still agree with Auden?” Yoongi whispered, softly caressing my arm.
“M-hm” I muttered, fluttering my eyes open, throwing my leg over his own and getting closer to his collarbone “It is always better to be the one who loves.”
“Would you be willing to love even then, y/n?”
“One does not choose when, how or who they love, Yoongi” I detached myself from his chest, supporting my weight with my arm as I looked at him “And I think it’s better to love rather than being at the receiving end without even acknowledging it. It hurts, yes, but the feeling…”
“Yet he emphasizes the fact that he can, and will get over them. Is his love as strong as he claims?”
“It can be the strongest feeling, of course. Still, you cannot hang in there just because you are unable control it”
“Have you noticed that in those last lines, he openly admits he hadn’t missed them when they were gone? Is that what love is about?”
“If they hurt you, maybe” I yawned, going back to the comfort of his touch “You won’t miss them, but you still love them. It’s easy, young man”
“Is love easy?”
“Can you please shut your stunning mouth for a second, please? You’re the loudest hook up I’ve ever had”
“You were the loud one some minutes ago” he chuckled, caressing my back, and taking my chin with his hand. Making me look up, he left a couple of short but soft, tender kisses over my swollen lips.  
“Goodnight, pianist”
“Goodnight, artist”
.
.
My phone woke me up from my slumber. Cold sheets met my hand, and I lifted my head from my pillow to take a look around my room.
He left.
I rejected whoever was calling me and got up from my bed, stretching out my limbs as I made my way to the living room. Empty.
Should have known that.
“It was just a hook up, y/n…” I murmured to myself, trying to get that in my head as fast as possible to avoid any kind of heartache. “He left as he shou-” I cut short my sentence when I noticed a scribbled piece of paper on my coffee table that wasn’t there the day before. I quickly took it, a smile plastered on my lips as soon as I started reading.
‘Last night I slept, and when I woke her kiss Still floated on my lips. For we had strayed Together in my dream, through some dim glade, Where the shy moonbeams scarce dared light our bliss. The air was dank with dew, between the trees, The hidden glow-worms kindled and were spent. Cheek pressed to cheek, the cool, the hot night-breeze Mingled our hair, our breath, and came and went, As sporting with our passion. Low and deep Spake in mine ear her voice: “And didst thou dream, This could be buried? This could be sleep? And love be thrall to death! Nay, whatso seem, Have faith, dear heart; this is the thing that is!” Thereon I woke, and on my lips her kiss.
Let’s meet again.
Min Yoongi’
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in case you’re wondering, the poems featured here are ‘the more loving one’ by w.h. auden and ‘assurance’ by emma lazarus.
hope you enjoyed!
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maluminspace · 4 years
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Genre: Fluff
Pairings: Michael Clifford/Reader
Word Count: 2.2
Requested: by @ghost0fy0u​
Okay, Hogwarts!sos is the best idea ever!!! Can I request some fluff with Slytherin Michael, Ravenclaw Reader, Nerd tutoring Jock on Potions class or Jock training nerd for a sporting event.
Trigger Warnings: Mild bullying, mild injury
A/N: Anna, I love this idea! I’m a sucker for soft Michael. I hope you like this.
***
The beads of sweat on Michael’s pale forehead start to run along the frown creases over his golden eyebrows. You’ve never seen such intense concentration his pretty green eyes as he scans the quidditch pitch for the tiny golden snitch you’d let loose about thirty minutes ago. 
It’s probably wrong for you to have such a strong crush on someone you’re meant to be training. You can’t help it, though. Michael Clifford has always seemed to catch your attention. He’s incredibly kind and sweet natured, not to mention beautiful. Unfortunately, during your six years at Hogwarts, you haven’t had much interaction with him. You’ve been incredibly focussed on your quidditch and staple classes such as Charms and Potions, whereas Michael has always seemed to favour Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. 
Maybe it was partly the way that Clifford stood out amongst his fellow Slytherins that had drawn you to him in the first place. The other key thing that’s always made him particularly attractive to you, is just how much he cares for those around him. You’ve lost count of the number of times you’ve seen him warn off bullies targeting the younger students, for example. Understandably, it’s his three friends Calum Hood, Luke Hemmings and Ashton Irwin that have always earned his fiercest loyalty. It’s that uncensored love that had caused the sweet sixth year to step up and offer to take Calum’s place as seeker on the Slytherin quidditch team, when his best friend came down with a sudden case of Spattergroit. In your opinion, it takes balls to do something like that, especially when he has no experience of playing quidditch at all. This alone showed you just how selfless Michael was and you’d been the first to offer your assistance. Having been Ravenclaw’s seeker for four years, your experience was undeniable and Michael had quickly accepted your offer.
A high-pitched giggle from somewhere behind you breaks through the fog clouding your mind. Finally pulling your attention away from the substitute Slytherin seeker. You glance over your shoulder to see two of your teammates lingering near the stands. It’s clear by their smug smirks that they’re discussing Michael and makes you incredibly angry. “Our practice ended a half hour ago, why are you still here?” You ask the two girls, allowing the irritation running through you to clearly show in your voice.
One of the girls, Pattie Grangson, your fifth year keeper, shrugs her shoulders lazily. “We were just curious as to why you’re helping to train Slytherin’s new seeker, you’re a Ravenclaw, it’d be better for us if they didn’t have a seeker.”
You roll your eyes, tired of this conversation already. “That’s how you want to win the cup, is it? Because Slytherin had to miss a game or two? That’s pathetic, Pattie!” You huff. “Michael is just trying to help out his team because his best friend got sick. I think it’s an incredibly brave and sweet thing to do, actually.”
Pattie and her friend, Halda Riveradore, exchange another snigger. “So that’s why you’re helping him…” Pattie sneers, “You fancy him!”
It’s impossible to stop the blush that colours your cheeks. You’ve managed to hide your crush on Michael pretty well up ‘til now and you’re not particularly pleased to have been called out on it. “I’m just being a good person, which is more than I can say for you! Now get out of here, you need to rest up, we have a game on Saturday!”
The two girls seem conflicted. They’re obviously inclined to tease you a little more but they also want to keep their place on your quidditch team.
“Fine…” Halda shrugs after a long moment of silence. “We’ll leave you with your boyfriend.”
Before you can even think of a snappy retort, a squeal from behind you, followed immediately by a loud thud pulls your attention back to the quidditch pitch. Your heart sinks as you find Michael laying in a tangled heap near the base of the nearest goalpost.
“Yeah, looks like he needs all the help he can get.” Pattie sneers before she and Halda head off towards the castle.
You don’t even pay them a second glance as you run over to the Slytherin boy you’re meant to be training. “Mikey!” You yell, skidding to a halt beside him. “What happened?”
Michael groans, propping himself up on one elbow and holding his forehead with his other hand. “I saw the snitch.” He replies groggily, “and I didn’t want it to get away so I flew at it and umm…” His cheeks colour up in an embarrassed blush. “I didn’t see the post, I…”
If the blonde boy didn’t look so adorable with his rosy cheeks and watery green eyes, you might have laughed at his story. You can just imagine that determined look on his face as he aimed his broom at the sneaky little snitch. It would have been adorable and you’re sort of mad you missed it, but right now he needs to be taken care of and you’re more than happy to do just that. “Oh no, did you crash into it?” You ask softly, kneeling down beside him.
The Slytherin nods bashfully, looking thoroughly mortified as though you might think he’s terribly stupid. 
 “Let me take a look at your head.” You insist, gently taking hold of his wrist and moving his hand away so that you can take a look at his injury. You sigh with relief when you see that it’s nothing more than a minor bump, albeit a rapidly bruising one. “It doesn’t look like you’ve done any serious damage but I want you to go and get checked out at the hospital wing.” You explain, running your fingertips gently over the darkening red patch on his forehead that is fast becoming anasty bruise. “Just to rule out a concussion, okay?”
Michael’s eyes sparkle with tears in the second or so before he closes them, obviously trying hard not to let them fall. “I’m sorry.” He sniffles, “I’m so stupid… I should have known I’d never be able to do this!”
“Hey…” You murmur softly, helping Michael up into a sitting position. “You’re not stupid at all. Seeker is one of the most difficult positions in a quidditch team. People usually spend years upon years trying to master it and you’ve only been training for a week! You’re doing so well.” 
The blonde stares back at you hopefully, the flush in his cheeks still burning brightly. “I feel like a failure.” He admits, his shoulders sagging in a defeated gesture. 
Without allowing your brain to process what you’re doing, you cup his face in one hand, stroking the pad of your thumb along his cheek bone. “You’re definitely not.” You reassure him. “You’re so brave and sweet for doing this. I’ve never been prouder of anyone else in my whole life.”
Michael instinctively leans into your touch, keeping his gaze on you as he tries to fight back more tears. “I promised Calum I’d try to help Slytherin win their game against Hufflepuff in a couple of weeks but I’m going to let him down, I just know it. I’m too embarrassed to even practice with the Slytherin team yet.”
You sigh, still holding his face as you harden your expression a bit. “If Calum isn’t the proudest best friend in the world right now, I’ll hex him into oblivion as soon as he’s back at school! I’ll make his Spattergroit feel like a spa treatment if he so much as jokes about you letting him down.”
The blonde lets out a watery laugh, his features relaxing slightly. “He’d never joke about anything quidditch related, he takes it as seriously as you do.”
There’s no disputing that. You’ve played against Calum plenty of times and you’ve never had a doubt about how seriously he takes his position on the team and the sport in general. It only occurs to you a moment later that Michael’s still gazing at you with a certain fondness. “Well, quidditch is serious business for people like us, Clifford.” You giggle, trying not to melt as Michael places his hand over yours, pressing your palm flat to his face. “I guess it must get boring for people who don’t care about it much, though.”
Michael shrugs, finally dropping his gaze. “I don’t think you could ever bore me.” His voice is quiet, mumbling the words as though he’s slightly scared of saying them. 
You gently remove your hand from his face, scared that you’ll do something utterly crazy like kiss him, if you don’t create a bit of physical space between the two of you. Sitting back on your heels, you try to tell yourself that the expression on Michael’s face is some lingering upset over his little mishap. That’s a much more plausible explanation than it being a display of disappointment that you backed away. “I think you’re the first person to ever say that.”
Shaking his head, Michael cautiously gets to his feet, offering you his hand to help you up. “I doubt that, a lot. You seem super smart and you’re probably the best seeker in the school…” His eyes are brimming with some emotion that you can’t quite place but it makes your heart swell nonetheless as he pulls you to your feet. “Don’t tell Calum I said that, though…” He adds hastily, tacking an adorable chuckle onto the end of his last word.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” You reply, unable to stop the fondness you have for Michael from creeping into your voice and expression. “We wouldn’t want him thinking that you preferred Ravenclaw’s team, would we?”
Michael’s cheeks turn pink again as he deliberately avoids eye contact with you. “I don’t.” He confirms, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I just kind of a soft spot for their seeker, I guess.”
“You definitely must have a concussion.” You try to joke, attempting to ignore the way your insides seem to wriggle at the implication that Michael might feel the same about you as you do about him. “Better go and get that checked out.” Humour is always your go-to when you’re feeling awkward or usure but you hate the way that Michael curls in on himself a bit, apparently feeling a little wounded.
Perhaps you should try to backtrack and attempt to put him at ease again. You’re completely at a loss on how to do that, though. Instead, you walk over to where you’ve left your broomstick instead.
“I don’t think I need to get checked out for concussion.” Michael mumbles, following you across the grass to the base of the stand. “It’s only a tiny bump. I think it’s only my ego that got bruised.” There's an undeniable note of sadness in his voice and you just can’t shake the feeling that you're the cause of it.
“That’s definitely not true.” You reply, picking up your Firebolt and mounting it. “You’ve got quite the battlescar on your forehead, Clifford.” You finally look back at him over your shoulder and your heart sinks as you watch him touch his bruised forehead tentatively with his fingertips. 
The Slytherin chuckles softly. “I kind of hope it does scar, I might get famous…” His face brightens ever-so-slightly as you crouch down, ready to take off. “It worked for Harry Potter didn’t it?”
You laugh, hating yourself for finding his lame joke funny. “I don’t think it was his scar that made him famous really. Unless you’re going to tell people that you got that bruise from surviving the Avada Kedavra spell, I think you’ll just have to settle for being my favourite Slytherin, instead.”
Michael’s face breaks into a disbelieving smile as he reaches out to hold the handle of your broom. “Really? I always thought Calum was your favourite Slytherin.”
You shake your head, smirking slightly. “Nah, he’s just my biggest competition in quidditch, but you’re the sweetest person I ever met.”
Michael beams, his eyes glistening with a hint of hope, now. “You really think that?” He asks, his fingertips grazing the side of your hand around the handle of your broom.
“Yeah.” You smile honestly. “I hope we can hang out together a lot more besides these practices, if you’re up for it.” 
You’re not sure where your sudden confidence has come from but you’re glad of it when Michael responds with an enthusiastic nod. “I’d love that.” He grins. “I’ve always wanted to get to know you better.”
It’s completely impossible to resist Michael’s beautiful smile and you take advantage of your new-found bravery to peck a kiss to his cheek. “I have Potions last tomorrow, wanna meet me outside the dungeons for an afternoon snack before I continue teaching you how to be an amazing seeker?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him.
“I’d love that.” The Slytherin replies, his cheeks still glowing adorably. 
You return his gesture, resisting the urge to kiss him on the lips this time. “Then it’s a date.”
Tag list: @clffrd @byxthexway @afuckingunicornn @painkillerash @moonchildsblack @calumbbyyy @h0tsos @loveroflrh @sexgodashton @megz1985 @myfalsedevotion @aulxna @honeyedlashton @tea4sykes @ghostofmashton @fairyintheglass @cashworthy @cashtonasfuck @opheliaaurora23 @5sosnsfw @wildmichaelflower @myloverboyash @easiercake​ @irwinkitten​ @cxddlyash​ @malumamongmen @cashtonasff5sos​ @iovehemmings​ @kindawannacryx​ @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles​
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Okay listen Mango, at this point your writings on this blog make up like 90% of my inner fantasy life. They're just so damn good. But in particular, I find myself rereading your s-spanking-related content over and over. In particular, there was one scene where Dutch threatened to s-spank his s/o in public/in front of other people next time. And I just wondered if you could possibly write some hcs about how that would go down, if you've got the time. *blushes profusely*
I won’t lie, this is something I’ve wanted to write for a long time but I wasn’t sure if there’d be any interest...so this is for you, Anon, and anyone else who gets off on the idea of Dutch dominating them completely. 
This is a sequel of sorts to another spanking piece I wrote, ‘Knowing Your Limits’.
Dutch Spanking you in Public (headcanons - female reader)
Warnings: spanking, daddy kink, public humiliation, heavy domination 
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You may not believe it, but Dutch meant what he said - he wouldn’t hesitate to punish you in public if it came to it.
If there’s one thing he can’t take, it’s being made to look a fool. So if you’re stupid enough to try, don’t act surprised when he returns the favour. 
He’s always tense when he’s out in public as it is. With lawmen on every corner of the city streets it’s difficult for him to see the humour in your teasing. 
He’s not mean enough not to give you any warning that you’re stepping close to the line. You can see it in his side-glances and gentle yet firm squeezes of your arm.  
He’ll even say it to you. “Are you asking for trouble, miss?” 
But you can’t resist pushing his buttons. It’s just too damn funny, and too damn satisfying. 
Until he fixes you with a stare that turns your blood to ice. 
“Enough.” he growls. 
He takes you by the hand, not roughly, but in a manner you know you can’t fight against. 
If you’re with any of the other gang members, he’ll mumble something brief. “Excuse us for a moment, if you please.” 
Your cheeks are already burning with embarrassment as Dutch guides you to one side. He presses his mouth to your ear as you feel yourself getting wet from his words. 
“You’ve had this coming for a long time.” 
He props his leg up on one of the benches on the pavement. Your stomach does a backflip as you realise he means to punish you right here, right now. 
You start gabbling instinctively - “no no no, please no, I’ll be good, I promise, I’m sorry, no please, Dutch please don’t”. 
The corner of his mouth twitches as he watches your performance. 
“I think it’s fair of me to say I’ve given you plenty of chances today, my dear.” 
He grabs your wrist and pulls you towards him, lifting you up and laying you across his thigh, your feet danging precariously. He takes a second to rub your back. 
“We can stop anytime.” he reassures you softly and you nod. You know he’d never do this if you didn’t truly want it. 
You can hear the rattle of a trolley going by, the clatter of hooves, the voices of passer-bys, some of which are whispering about the spectacle before their eyes. Your mouth goes dry. 
You feel Dutch’s hand caressing your bottom through your trousers. He’s not cruel enough to rip them down, but you know he wants to. On the bright side, you know he’ll steal you away somewhere private later and make everything up to you. 
“You know, you’ve not a soul to blame for this but yourself.” 
SMACK.
You yelp, much to Dutch’s amusement. 
“But you just can’t resist playing with fire, can you?” 
SMACK.
“Don’t worry sweet angel, I’ll make sure you get good and burned.” 
You squeal as he builds up to a steady, hard pace. The sound of his hand on your bottom is sharp and clear even against the din of the city. His arm holds you in place, warm and strong and comforting. 
“I hope you know how many people are walking by and seeing what a naughty girl you’ve been.” 
There’s subdued laughter in his words and your stomach twists. Dutch has such an air of easy confidence. The spectacle of this bounces off him like water off a duck’s back. 
You can sense everyone’s eyes on you, some brief and awkward, some lingering and perverted. You know Dutch will keep you safe.
The soreness is increasing, as is the dampness between your legs. You subtly try to grind against Dutch’s thigh but he spanks you even harder, making you whimper. He grabs a fistful of you hair and pulls your head up so he can look at you. 
“Don’t even think about it, miss.”
“Daddy...” you mewl quietly. You feel him pause for a microsecond, knowing how that word stirs him. 
He rests his hand between your thighs and briefly presses down on your core. 
When he starts up again with your spanking it feels as if you’re on fire. 
“You will not make a fool out of me, Y/N.” 
It’s so rare that he calls you by your name instead of one of his nicknames for you that you burst into tears. 
“I’m sorry, Daddy.”
You’re past caring who sees and you let yourself divulge into ugly, noisy sobs. 
Dutch doesn’t carry on for much longer. He can sense when you’re reaching your limit. 
Eventually he lifts you up, setting you down on the ground again as he wipes your tears away with his pocket square. 
You’re trembling from the overload of emotion and the physical pain. Dutch takes your hand and you walk to the saloon, where he purchases a room for the night. 
He arranges for a bath to be drawn for you. As he undresses you slowly he takes time to run his hands over your reddened, bruised flesh. He places kisses across your thighs and stomach before he helps you into the warm, soapy water. 
Dutch washes you himself. It’s a raw, vulnerable moment. You’ve never felt so exposed yet so utterly taken care of. 
You nuzzle into his palm and find yourself crying softly again. Dutch coos at you, stroking your hair, praising you for being so brave. 
When you’re back in your room he lays you down on the bed, brushing your hair away from your face before stepping back to admire you, his love, naked and soft in front of him. 
He kisses your neck, your breasts, each nipple, your stomach, working down until he’s parting your legs. 
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pixigirl · 4 years
Text
Chloe?
Who will Marinette choose? Luka or Adrien and will Chloe save the day?
Context: Luka and Marinette are dating but she still has feeling for Adrien and Luka knows it.
A miraculous ladybug one-shot (which may have a continuation of some kind??). This is a typed version of an amazing role play I was part of in the Tumblr chat called Miraculous Ladybug. Owner: @fleur-de-jasmin-fdj
Participants: @viperionx, @pixigirl, @ravenabby, @purrpewl and  @fleur-de-jasmin-fdj
Marinette
Luka
Chloe
A: Adrien
B: Chloe’s butler - Jean
HM: Hawkmoth
  (At Andre’s ice-cream stall)
*gets ice cream and gives it to Marinette* Here you go!
*takes ice cream* mmm thanks Luka
Anything for you *smiles and sits down on the bench with Marinette*
*starts eating ice cream beside him* delicious
A: Oh, hey guys
Hey Adrien
H-hey Adrien
A: Enjoying the ice cream?
Y-yeah it’s delicious. You should get some.
*thinks: she still likes him, doesn’t she*
*coo coo (pigeon)*
Hey Chloe. You’re here too. You should also get some ice cream
Chloe? As in the mayor’s daughter?
A:Yeah she is our classmate.
Ugh! Like I have time for that high calorie stuff!
Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!
Your loss not mine
*chuckles*
A: Come on Chloe be nice.
If you want some quality you can get only the classiest gelato at our new hotel restaurant.
Just saying.
*sighs*
What? You said be nice!
I prefer Andre’s ice cream over expensive gelato *laughs*
A: *laughs*
You can join us if you like
A: He has the best love heart ice cream
Y-yeah *looking at Adrien*
*raises eyebrow* heart ice cream?
*looks at Marinette and signs*
Yeah Chloe whoever eats Andre’s ice cream will stay in love forever
Really??? *surprised*
*nods* that’s what he told all of Paris
*looks at Adrien*
You just have to believe
A: believe!
W-well I personally don’t believe in baby fairy tales like that but if Adrikins insists!
Sure
Let’s go get some more ice cream I’ve finished mine
I’ll just wait here
Ok its your treat
Ok *goes to get ice cream*
*smiles and sighs*
*eyes Luka*
*looks at Chloe and Adrien* Soooooo are you two like together?
Like since kindergarten!
Wait what-?
You’ve been dating since kindergarten?!
A: I um – no?
Dating? I thought you were asking how long we have been friends
*shakes head* no I meant dating, sorry
A: Um... no? we are like long time besties
  What about you? I’ve seen you around school. Don’t you hang with Juleka?
She’s my sister. I have to pick her up from school every day, I go to College Francoise Dupont.
YOU’RE JULEKA’S BROTHER?! Wait… *squints hard and leans close into Luka* Actually I can kind of see it.
*Adrien leaves to go get ice cream so he can bring some back for Chloe*
You have the same eyebrows! *she says with triumphant*
Huh we do? I never noticed that, thanks for pointing it out miss bourgeois.
Omg you do!
*he notices that Chloe is still very close to his face* are we having a staring contest or do you just like looking at my face?
Hmmm… that’s a pretty unique eye colour you have. Are they contacts?
*shakes head* no they are 100% real
*finally pulls back* Get out! No way!
*laughs* I promise they’re real
*awkward silence*
*Luka looks over to Marinette in distance* So… you and Dupain-Cheng… what is your guys’ deal?
*looks at Chloe* we’ve been dating for three months. Its our uh three month anniversary today…
*blunty* cute
Yeah. I guess *shrugs*
*marinette still getting ice cream*
*takes a seat on the bench crossing one leg over the* sooooo…... Anniversary huh?
*comes back with ice cream* I see you two are getting to know each other better.
Oh yeah… I feel enlightened *blunt sarcasm*
Mmmm
*sighs*
He’s a reaaalll talker isn’t he
Mmhmm *hands them both ice creams* here you go
Thank you ma-ma-Marinette *takes it*
I am glad you are getting along okay
I communicate better with music *scratches behind his neck*
*slaps Luka’s arm* Why are you still teasing me about it
OW! *pretending to be hurt*
Because it’s cute
No its not
Yes it is
*Chloe rollers her eyes as she internally gags*
*glares at him*
Don’t look at me like that or ill keep going.
Not if I have anything to say about it *pretending to be mad*
*laughs* still as cute as when we first met
And you’ve been teasing me about it since we first met
*Chloe thinks: oh now I’m definitely gonna hurl…* Oh, Adrikiiiins!!!!
Oh here we go again
Are you gonna come back anytime soon? *hmm he must be too far away to hear me*
Well I’m gonna keep doing it for as long as we are together
Hahaha (sarcastically)*glares but lets it go because she doesn’t want her icecream to melt*
*chloe abruptly stands* RIIIIIIIIIGHT… im gonna just…. *walks over to Adrien*
*raises an eye brow at chloe’s strange behaviour*
*rolls his eyes playfully and starts to eat his icecream as he leans on marinettes shoulder*
Is Chloe acting weird?
She probably just isn’t used to proper relationships
Yeah I guess *still suspicious*
She’ll get used to it soon
I hope so. She can be great if she wants to
*Chloe hugs Adrien joyfully after he giver her an icecream*
*Marinette is trying not the be jealous but can’t help it*
*she accidentally breaks her cone and notices that her hand is now very wet and groans loudly*
*looks over* Oh no. What happene- *sees why* oh right.
I think I was just holding the cone too tight
Do you need help getting it off
*starts to wipe her hands with a tissue from her purse* No it’s okay I got it. Thanks.
But you could get me another ice cream 😊
Don’t worry you can just have mine, I haven’t eaten much
You sure? What about you?
I’m not hungry anymore…
Oh ok thanks
*fake smile*
Can I ask you something?
Sure *she says as she stares at Adrien*
*looks at her* Do you actually like me? *shes not paying much attention* well then I guess there’s my answer
What?.. What do you mean?
You’re still in love with Adrien, aren’t you?
We are dating that means I like you.
*sighs* when are you going to stop lying to yourself and me?
I am not lying. Adrien is just a nice guy is all.
*rolls eyes* a ‘nice guy’ that’s all he is to you?
He’s also a great friend?
I see the way you look at him Marinette.. you’ve never looked at me that way. If you love him so much then why did you decide to date me?
I look at him the way at look at anyone else.
Oh, come on, Mari! I’m not stupid!
What does he have that I don’t? Money? Fame? Good looks?
I never liked him for those reasons! Is that what you think I want?
I don’t like Adrien that way anyway
I’m sure you don’t
*crushes her cone again because she is mad*
I never stood a chance against him. He is perfect, I’m sorry I couldn’t be
Nonsense. I never said he was perfect he has his flaws, every person does.
*tears fill his eyes* did you ever love me?
*sighs* I don’t think I did
Ok well, did you ever like me at least?
*hesitates* Y-no, no I didn’t.
*tears fall down his face*
I am so sorry Luka. I am such an idiot.
*scoffs* I can’t do this anymore.
Neither can i. *woefully*
You should’ve told me the truth from the start. I’m done. It’s over *gets up and runs away still crying*
I’m sorr- *sighs and sits down*
*Chloe and Adrien have witnessed this event from afar and start to come down*
*Luka is sitting on the waters edge as he cries into his hands*
*Chloe could see Luka and is for some reason compelled to go see if he is okay*
Adrikins I need to go.. do stuff. Talk later *waves as she runs in Lukas direction*
-flash forward to Hawkmoth’s lair as the sky light opens-
HM: Such bitter sorrow of a broken heart who was so utterly betrayed by the one he loved… Fly away my little akuma and evilize that broken heart
-back to the river side-
*Luka is still sitting with his head hanging between his knees. He looks at the bracelet that Marinette gave him for their anniversary*
*footsteps approach from behind him* Hey… can I sit here?
*with tear-soaked eyes he looks at her and nods slowly*
*inahles deeply as she sits down*
*they sit in silence for a few minutes until chloe starts looking around awkwardly*
Soooo…….
I’m not in the mood please *as he puts his hands on his face once more and sniffles*
Uh.. There? There?
Thank you but you don’t have to stay
*sighs* Ok look, I’m trying this new thing where I’m supposed to care about other people’s problems so if you a problem I’m willing to-- *but before she continues she sees a familiar black butterfly out of the corner of her eye coming towards them. She grabs his wrist*RUN!
Wait wha-
Shut up and run pretty boy! *successfully pulls Luka away from the bridge*
*he thinks: what? Pretty boy*
*he sees an alleyway and pulls them both into it*
*breathing heavily* Did it follow us?
*shrugs* wow this alley way is tight *as she shuffles around*
*Chloe puts her hand on his face* You HAVE to think happy thoughts okay. Or it will find you again, quick!
i-i can’t..
Yes! you can! Come on. You like music right? Sing something then
Chloe I- *Akuma enters bracelet undetected*
*Chloe’s eyes widen as he pushes her away out of the alleyway and a familiar purple outline appears on his face*
*Luka is shaking as he tries to resist*
HM: Heart Rocker… The girl you were deeply in love with took your feelings forgranted and crushed them. Not I give you the power to return the favour.
*groans* No… I-I don’t wan-want to hurt a-anyone!
Luka fight it. You have to
*he falls to his knees as he holds his head shaking*
*his groans get louder and tears start streaming down his face*
HM: But she will only hurt you more. I’ll give you the power to play with her heartstrings and destroy the one that stands in your way. All I ask for in return are ladybug’s and Chat noir’s miraculous!
N-no! I can’t i- *cries out in pain* STOP!
*Chloe runs to him*
I’m s-so sorry…
Don’t give up now pretty boy, you can do this! Fight him! You know he is trying to trick you.
It-it hurts too much… I have no choice.
I know it hurts. I know YOU’RE hurt! But you can’t let him win now. You are stronger Luka! *hugs him tightly*
HM: don’t listen to that selfish little brat. I can give you POWER! I can get you revenge!
Get out of his head!!!!
I-i can’t do it-
No! *she starts yanking at his bracelet* GET OUT!
*shouts in pain*
*black bubbles start to form around him so Chloe tries even harder*
I’m t-to tired. I can-t fi-fight any long-er
You are NOT going to get HIM HAWKMOTH! YO HEAR ME! YOU STUPID, OLD, TACKY FART! *she rips the bracelet free*
*the Akuma is forced to leave the bracelet and tries to fly away as the bubbles around Luka fade*
Oh nooooo you don’t! *as she grabs an old broom from the garbage and starts to hit it against a wall, crushing it*
*Luka falls to the ground barely awake*
HM: I will get him next time *screams in anger as the light shade closes*
*once Chloe is sure the akums is dead she drops to the broom, get Luka’s bracelet and realises* OMG Luka!
*she moves his head to her lap and pats his head* Come on pretty boy… wake up *she starts to tear up* come  pretty bo.. you’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay….
*everything fades to black*
*Luka’s eyes flutter open* w-where am I?
B: Ah young sir. You’ve woken.
Who are you!? *looks around frantically* is this the Mayor’s hotel?
B:You may call me Jean.
w-wait.. the mayor, so chloe? Where is she? Is she ok? I didn’t hurt her did i? *he tries to get up but falls back down in pain*
B: The young miss is fine. She was quite frantic when she called me to pick you up. She demanded we place you in this suite to recuperate.
Sh-she did? Where is she now?
B: The hotel physician has already given you a look. You should be okay.
I sent Miss Bougeous to her room to calm her nerves. Like I said, she was quite frantic.  
I Understand thank you jean. Could you please let Chlode know I say thankyou? For everything
B: I was quite surprised when she called though, I haven’t seen her this upset about someone else since…
Since when…?
B:*shakes head* please pay my words no heed.
*chloe bursts through door*  FRANCOIS OR WHATEVER! ANY NEWS?! *spots Luka* You’re OKAY!!!!! *runs and and hungs him*
*he smiles* I owe you all my thanks. *he groans slightly because of the tight hug*
B: I will take my leave.
Yeah, yeah whatever claude
Thank you, jean.
*Butler nods and he leaves and shuts the door*
But really? How are you?
The doctor said you were ok but… It takes a lot to force hawkmoth out of your head.
*sighs* but you did it Chloe you got him to leave. You’re really strong.
*her eyes widen and she tries to hide her blushing with a blasé hair toss* Hmph! Its only natural. I AM the Great and Powerful Queen Bee after all
*chuckles* that it true but trust me, you’re amazing. I can’t thank you enough.
*stands and puffs chest with pride trying to hide her embarrassment* naturally!
Well…It would be utterly ridiculous if you stop!
*smiles and pulls her into another hug*
*her face is red* Ok…Ok.. You can let go now *weakly nudges him away*
But do you want me to?
*she is even redder and pushes away* Sh-Shut up Peasant!
So I’m not pretty boy anymore *pouts*
Oh shut it! *but she remembers something and she takes it out of her pocket* Oh here I picked this up for you.
Oooo a gift?
*she gives him a broken bracelet held together barely by rubber bands and staples*
*he tries not to laugh* I ug love it. Thank you
SHUT UP! Arts and crafts isn’t my strong suit ok! You caught me I’m not perfect!
Anyway. Your welcome to stay here for a couple of days if you want. You can bring your family too! I already had daddy deal with the expenses okay!
So! Just forget about that loser Dupain-Cheng and Adrien for now ok?! They aren’t worth your time.
Good-bye! *storms out completely flustered*
*Luka smiles and chuckles, shaking his head as he looks out the window. His heart still aches at the though of Marineette but at this moent… He thinks he is gonna be ok..*
--the end--
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