#violin and a little nervous

[luvkyu]

and i ( zhang hao )

zhang hao x male reader

hao is slightly obsessed with another violinist

content : 1.7k words, fluff, violinist!hao x violinist!reader, music terms, v shy hao, mention of vom!t ( just used as exaggeration )

"make sure you go into a heavier crescendo here, okay? this is the biggest climax of the song."

zhang hao nodded sheepishly. it was hard to stay focused on his violin when his mentor was so attractive. especially while sitting right beside him.

"i think a little more vibrato here would be good too, but you can worry more about the actual notes for now if you like," y/n said with a soft smile as he pointed to the sheet music. he could tell hao was nervous, so he was trying his best to keep a light hearted atmosphere.

"it's okay, i can do the vibrato," hao assured.

y/n smiled and nodded. he liked how determined hao was.

"alright, let's run through it one more time and then we'll be done for the day," y/n said.

hao raised his violin back up, straight posture and impeccable bow hold. y/n smiled in approval before doing the same, the sounds of their strings soon filling the practice room.

hao was a second year in their performing arts college. y/n was a fourth year and a first chair violinist in the school's competitive chamber orchestra. the pair had met during hao's first year, but never exchanged more than a few words.

y/n spent a lot of his time helping struggling first and second years with adjusting to their harder music pieces, so when hao spoke up, y/n was happy to help. now they met about three times a week to practice, and hao just received new sheet music that was a complete eyesore.

"good, that was really good," y/n praised happily. "how're you feeling with this piece so far?"

"it's fun, it's just a lot.." hao replied while loosening his bow. y/n nodded.

"yeah, i know. at least we got through the whole first page today! we'll work on the second one next time."

hao nodded as he began putting his things away. y/n gazed at him for a second, admiring how soft his personality seemed.

"y'know, you're a really good violinist, hao."

hao looked up at him with wide eyes. y/n was standing up now, violin hanging from his fingers and a gentle smile resting on his lips. hao could feel his cheeks turning red.

"..thank you. i really like playing, so that means a lot."

y/n nodded in return. "are you gonna try out for the chamber orchestra next year? they let some third years in."

hao thought about it for a moment. he carefully closed his violin case and latched the locks.

"mm.. i'm not sure."

"well," y/n began, "i think you should. if you want to, of course."

hao blushed and nodded in response. he wasn't really sure how to talk to y/n. not when he had the biggest crush on him known to mankind. he could feel y/n's eyes still on him, and for just a second, he wondered if y/n possibly liked him back.

"anyway, i'll see you back here monday?" y/n asked brightly. hao nodded, trying to give his best smile.

y/n hung his violin case over his shoulder and gathered his sheet music before waving goodbye. hao followed his exit, beginning to walk the opposite way to his dorm.

after finally getting back home, zhang hao threw his bags aside with a sigh. he gave more care to his violin case, setting it down gently. taerae stood in the small corner kitchen with a bowl of food in his hands.

"hey, hao. you good?"

"mm," hao mumbled. he went into the kitchen with the other and took a water from their fridge.

"y/n again?" taerae asked with a small chuckle.

hao nodded, "i'm so into him. i hate it."

"i don't know why you won't just ask him out."

hao shrugged. taerae set his bowl down as he gazed at his roommate. hao was so down bad, and taerae hated that he refused to do anything about it. he rolled his eyes and lightly slapped his hand on the counter.

"alright," taerae declared, "you're coming with me tonight. i'm going to his concert to write a review piece for the school paper, so i can get you a ticket too."

"there's a concert tonight??" hao asked with wide eyes.

"yeah, with the chamber orchestra. how did you not know that?"

"i have no idea. i guess i've been too preoccupied."

"sure, preoccupied with y/n."

"..shut up."

zhang hao was shivering. not because it was cold, but because he was nervous. more nervous than he'd ever been, even on his first day of college. he had a small bouquet of flowers in one hand, and his phone in the other with a deathly tight grip. he stood frozen for a moment as he stared at the large theater in front of him.

"hey, relax," taerae's voice cut through his anxiety, "it'll be okay."

hao nodded, trying to let a smile curve on his lips. he could barely see y/n on the stage, as he and taerae were still by the entrance. the orchestra was tuning and warming up, but he could make out y/n's styled hair and pretty smile from far away. he seemed to be talking to the violinist beside him about the sheet music. hao felt his heart swell. seeing y/n in his formal concert attire was almost too much for him.

"c'mon, let's get to our seats," taerae said eagerly. hao nodded again and followed his friend to a pair of seats that were much closer to the stage than he thought.

"oh, he's right in front!" taerae exclaimed quietly, pointing to y/n.

"mhm, he's first chair."

taerae looked over at hao as he looked at y/n.

"taerae?"

"hm?"

"he looks so good i'm gonna throw up," hao muttered. taerae rolled his eyes with a small snicker.

zhang hao took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. he laid the flowers in his lap before rubbing his palms together.

"wait, i think he sees us!" taerae enthused.

hao's head shot back up to find his crush's eyes resting on him. a smile quickly sprouted on y/n's face, keeping his gaze set on hao.

"oh, i hate him.. why is he staring at me like that.."

"cause he likes you, dumb fuck."

hao looked over at taerae with wide eyes before going back to y/n.

"maybe he's just surprised to see me. he didn't know i was coming so.."

taerae rolled his eyes. he watched hao muster up the courage to wave at y/n, the male sending a tiny wave back with his violin bow.

the lights soon died down as the audience began clapping and the conductor made his way out to join the orchestra. hao loved watching y/n become all serious as he lifted his violin to his chin in sync with the others.

throughout the pieces of music, taerae took notes for the school paper, while hao simply sat in awe. he'd seen them perform before, but it was like a new experience every time. the group was so professional and well put together. hao hoped he could be at such a level soon.

by the time it was over, zhang hao was even more of a nervous wreck. he waited with taerae by their seats, pretending to talk until y/n made his way over to them. he was currently traveling through the theater to talk with different people. hao assumed he was thanking people for coming and receiving congratulatory words in return - the usual etiquette that hao found quite tiresome if he was honest.

"hey guys," hao felt his heart quicken as he recognized y/n's voice, "thanks for coming. i didn't expect to see you, but i'm happy you're here."

taerae could tell that was directed more at zhang hao, but he didn't mind a bit. he and y/n were more like acquaintances than friends anyways.

"of course! you guys did really great. the review in the paper will be nothing but good things, i promise," taerae assured.

"thank you, i'm really glad you liked it!"

taerae smiled before turning to hao, "i'm gonna go wait in the car, okay?"

hao nodded in response. he could feel a chill run down his spine as he now faced y/n alone. he felt like melting on the spot. seeing y/n up close in his suit and tie made him feel weak.

"i've never seen you so dressed up. you look really amazing," y/n complimented, as if reading hao's mind.

"thank you," hao blushed, "you do too. i like your suit a lot."

y/n smiled and looked down at the clean black fabric.

"yeah? i always feel kinda weird when i dress up this nicely, but i'm glad someone else enjoys it."

hao nodded. oh, how he really did enjoy it.

"ah- these are for you," hao spoke up as he reached to the seat behind him where he'd left the flowers. y/n's jaw fell open just a bit, blushing a little himself now.

"really? you got me flowers?"

hao smiled and nodded. "you deserve them. i knew you'd be great tonight."

y/n couldn't help but chuckle at how cute the other was. he took the bouquet happily, looking at the flowers before turning his attention back to zhang hao.

"hey, are you doing anything else tonight?" y/n asked. hao's heart picked up once again. he shook his head while trying to hide his growing smile.

"then can i take you to dinner?"

hao almost couldn't believe it.

"really? you mean now?"

y/n nodded confidently, "we're already dressed up, i'm hungry, and i have the prettiest boy in the room to come with me. it's perfect."

hao looked down at his shoes, his smile too much for himself now.

"sure, i'd love to. let me just tell taerae?"

y/n nodded again, "of course. let's go." he offered his hand out, which hao took a bit shyly before he was led out of the theater.

#kpop x male reader #male reader #zb1 x male reader #zb1 imagines #zb1 fluff #zerobaseone #zb1 x reader #zb1 #zb1 zhang hao #zhang hao #zhang hao x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zhang hao x male reader

[everlastlady]

Hazbin Hotel X Reader: The Wedding

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☕Author's Note: Hello! My little imps, demonic sinners, and powerful overlords. I'm tired asf after writing this for you guys, but it was worth it. Because I love you, guys. Honestly the toxic part of the HH & HB fandoms drains me. But you good souls out there make being in this fandom worth it. Especially with this VP drama, everything is just crazy and messy. But I'm glad to see some mature, respectful, and level headed people out there handling this drama well and not speaking over the Jewish, Trans, Poc, & LGBTQ+ people. I'll deliver a few more HH & HB stories. But after that I'm taking a break and stepping back from the fandom for awhile because of how toxic it has become. But I'll be posting other things, but I'll still deliver the Helluva Boss wedding version. So I hope yall enjoy the Hazbin version. Don't forget to like, comment, or reblog if you enjoyed.

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☕Word Count: 4498

☕Fandom: Helluva Boss

☕Triggers: Angel's part includes drug abuse & about the Val stuff. Husk's parts include alcohol. I hope I handled both subjects well.

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Alastor: You and Alastor met. When you decided to help Charlie at the hotel, you were an overlord who knew how to cause chaos and have fun. That’s what Alastor loved about you. He saw that you were never shy, foolish, or stuck in the mud. He also admired how you would use humor with your powerful abilities. The two of you became close and enjoyed causing chaos. Alastor was the one to ask you out when the hotel threw a party. And you agreed to be Alastor’s partner. The two of you dating wasn’t different from when you were friends. But Alastor did love holding you close to him in private, dancing, and listening to you sing. Alastor never really thought about marriage when he was alive. He wasn’t even thinking about dating since he valued causing pain and his radio show more than love. But being in Hell with you changed things. And after dating for a long while, Alastor wanted to pop the question, so he started planning and had everyone in the hotel help him.

You found it strange how Alastor was acting and when you would ask him, he would simply say. “ Just making big plans, don’t you worry your pretty little head. But lovely doe eyes. “ Later that night Alastor had made a candlelight dinner. And you were led into the room with Angel covering your eyes. You open your eyes. To see Husk playing the violin, Charlie and Vaggie on stage romantically singing on stage, and Niffty led you over to the table after fixing the roses on it. You smiled and looked up to see Alastor standing there. “ I hope, everything looks lovely my dear. “ Alastor walked over and pulled out your seat, you sat down and he pushed up your seat. Alastor had a feeling that he hasn’t felt since he was alive, since his first kill. The butterflies in his stomach were going crazy. He sat down and the two of you ate dinner. Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, Husk, and Niffty. Left you both alone, which Alastor didn’t want them to. But Charlie gave him a thumbs up and left. Alastor cleared his throat and looked at you.

“ My dear, (Y/N), I love you a lot and you know this because we are dating, haha. “ Alastor let out a nervous chuckle. “ But you are more than my partner, you are my everything. You make me feel alive and I love causing chaos with you. And I wanna do it forever. You are so smart, beautiful, and passionate. So will you be mine? “ Alastor opened the box and showed you the ring. You gasped and your lips curled into a smile. You looked at Alastor with tears in your eyes, you nodded and Alastor chuckled and started to laugh. He grabbed your hand and slipped on the ring. You both share a sweet passionate kiss and look into each other’s eyes and then proceed to carry on with the dinner date. After a month the wedding was here, and you both were getting married at the hotel. You made Vaggie, your maid of honor. And she took planning this wedding seriously along with Charlie and Niffty. You already had your wedding outfit and the theme you and Alastor agreed on was lovely. You both had a guest list, food, drinks, etc. Husk was walking you down the aisle. You smiled watching everyone stare at you and when you look at the altar. You saw Alastor, he looked so breathtaking. You stood there holding hands with Alastor, you both staring into each’s eyes. While the marriage officiant talked. You and Alstor exchanged a vow and he went last and here is what he said.

“ My dearest, (Y/N), you were the embodiment of chaos, everything about you from your wicked smile, cunning mind, and evil eyes. I knew that you would not only be my friend. But my love, I will cherish the memories we made and will continue to cherish the ones we make as your husband. Thank you for making me feel alive again. I hope you never get tired of my jokes, my dear just like how I’ll never get tired of that wonderful singing. I promise to protect, honor, love, and grow with you. “

It was official you and Alastor. Were married and you both shared a kiss, everyone clapped and cheered. You and Alastor ate cake, drank, and danced. Alastor hated Vox and Angel Dust's speech. This made you giggle. After the wedding, Alastor and you made it back to your home. He carried you inside and down the hallway. Both of you singing, he set you down on the bed and walked to the bathroom to change, and you sat there changing out of your wedding outfit, and slipped into your pajamas. “ My dear, I think a honeymoon somewhere special will be nice. “ Alastor said calling out from the bathroom. He stepped out buttoning up his maroon-red pajama shirt. He got into bed and kissed your cheek hugging you close. You both stared at the rings on your fingers and then back at each other and looked into each other’s eyes. And gave each a kiss, you were glad to have married Alastor, and he was glad to have married you.

Vox: You and Vox didn’t get along when you first met. It didn’t help that you were friends with Alastor. So the fighting was interesting. But soon you and Vox began to warm up to each other. Whether it was playful teasing, lunch together, or doing favors for each other. Vox soon released he had feelings for you when Valetino was talking about tricking you into signing a contract with him. Vox lost his shit on Valentino and threatened him. He didn’t care if he damaged his relationship with Vox. wasn’t going to let anyone or anything hurt you. Vox eventually asked you out to dinner and you agreed. Little did Vox know you also developed feelings for him. So it was funny when you both asked each other out. Vox was glad to have you as his partner, and he let everyone know you were his and he did that with a broadcast. Saying if anyone hurts or touches you. Will be hanging from his cords.

During your relationship with Vox, he would spoil you. Anything you wanted. He would buy it for you. If anyone pissed you off, they were gone the next day or apologizing then running away. Alastor didn’t mind you dating Vox and supported this relationship. With this relationship going well, Vox was ready to marry you. But he wanted to do something big. So he rented out your favorite restaurant. (If it's a fast food restaurant then, I fucking swear.) Anyway, Vox rented out your favorite restaurant, and you both drove there in the back of the limo. Vox awfully was unusual he is usually bragging about his latest breakthrough in his company or ranting about Alastor. He seemed to be fidgeting with something in his pocket. When arriving at the restaurant, you held onto his arm and you both walked inside. Being greeted by the staff.

You watched as Vox pulled on your seat. And you smiled sitting down. Vox sat down across from you, stared into your eyes, and cleared his throat, he wanted to get this out of the way so the whole evening, he isn’t a nervous wreck. So he cleared his throat and you looked from your menu and down at his hand that was bawled up. He stared at you while his screen glitched and flashed a bit. “ (Y/N), you mean a lot to me. I know we were both assholes to each other. We still are sometimes, but we do it with more passion. But when I look at you, I see more than a partner. I see someone I want to be in this madness. You appreciate me and see me for me. So will you do me a favor and marry me? “ Vox shakily opened his hand showing the small dark blue velvet box. He opened the box and there was an expensive ring. “ I had it custom-made for you. “ He said softly. You gasped and smiled, staring at Vox, and nodded. Vox smiled and grabbed your hand to slip on the ring and kissed you.

You and Vox continued this date. And after a few weeks of planning the wedding was here and just like the dinner date. He went all out for the wedding. He wanted it to be perfect and he also wanted to flex. Rosie was your mind of honor and Vevlet made sure to help out because she quoted. “ This wedding will be the thing everyone will be talking about on Voxtagram and the uninvited will be wishing they, were here. “ She sang out. You had your wedding outfit on and Alastor would be walking you down the aisle, you looked to see Vox standing there looking nervous but happy because you looked so beautiful. When standing up there with him, you two held hands while the marriage officiant talked. You both began to exchange vows and Vox went last, he pulled out a paper from his coat and began talking.

“ (Y/N), You have always been a pain in my ass, and you still are. But good pain. At first, we didn’t get along but now we do and I’m glad we do. Because you are the peace I need when everything is too loud in my head. You know how to have a good time and a relaxing time. You are not only my partner but a dear friend. A friend, I want to marry and be with forever. Thank you for saying yes to me being your boyfriend, and thank you for saying yes to me being your husband. “

After the vows you and Vox kiss. Everyone cheers, shouts, and claps. Vox made sure to get your favorite cake and you two shared it. After the whole wedding fun. The two of you went home. You and drinking wine, laughing and walking into the bedroom. Both of you fell onto the bed, holding each other and caressing each’s cheek, and smiling at each other. “ I know we are already dead, but until death do us part my love. “ Vox said, he placed a kiss on your lips.

Sir Pentious: You had been working for Pentious for a while. You two had been good friends and you loved helping him invent things. You believed in him and you believed that he would be an overlord. Pentious wouldn’t admit it. But he had a crush on you, and he was scared that you’ll reject him. He’s always been rejected, judged, and put down. He wasn’t ready to be hurt again. But one of the henchmen walked over and told you that Pentious liked you, and Pentious screamed and ran towards the door but accidentally smacked into the wall and knocked himself out. Pentious eventually woke up and saw you sitting next to him reading. You saw that you had woken up, and he apologized for acting scared and foolish. You sighed with a smile and kissed his cheek. You told him, that you’ll be his partner which made him happy. He felt like number one. He held you close and kissed your cheek. You and Pentious had been dating for a long while and Pentious was ready to pop the big question.

He wanted this to be perfect and not like how it went when you agreed to be his partner. So he was going to invent something. He was in his lab for a while and asked you not to come in. Which you respected and didn’t even ask why. So you went to go cook dinner for you and him. As you were cooking you heard tiny little clicks. You look over and down to see a little robot. It stretched up to your height with a yellow box and you grabbed the box open it, you gasped seeing a ring. “ I sold half of my inventions, to get you the perfect ring. “ Pentious came from around the corner. And stared at you. “ Will you marry me, (Y/N)? “ He said, with a nervous smile. You ran over and jumped into his arms and kissed him. He took that as a yes. He started to weep. He was going to make sure you both have a lovely wedding.

You and Pentious had a nice wedding and planned it together. Pentious invited his henchmen and you invited your friends. Cherri and Angel heard about the wedding, so they went to crash it. But they saw how happy Pentious was. So they decided to be good guests and took their seats with the egg goons. But you needed someone to walk you down the aisle and Angel offered. So you let the flamboyant spider give you away on your wedding day. You held hands with Pentious at the altar. After the marriage officiant stopped talking you both exchanged vows with Pentious going last.

“ My dearest, (Y/N), I love you a lot and I know I say that every day. Like a lot but every time I see you, you make me remember that all this worth it. You make me glad I live in Hell. And I want to continue to live in Hell with you. I’m glad we will end this day as spouses. I will be glad to call myself your husband. “

After the vows, you and Pentious kiss. His tail wrapped around you and he held you closer. The two of you shared a dance and ate the cake that the egg goons made which was surprisingly delicious. You and Pentious went home. And decided to watch a movie and relax. “ I love you, my dear (Y/N). “ Pentious kissed you and you both snuggle closer and enjoyed your night as a married couple.

Husk: You met Husk when you arrived at the hotel to sing for the guest. You were a famous singer and when Husk saw you and heard you sing on stage. He thought your voice was amazing. But what brought you close together is when he saw a creepy fan bothering you. He walked over and punched the person and knocked them out. You thanked Husk, and he simply shrugged and offered to make you a drink. The two of you drank and chatted all night. After that night the two of you became good friends. And you visit Husk, sometimes he would vent to you about his frustration and eventually tell you about his old life. And your words always melted Husk and made him feel at peace. He soon asked you out on your, guys’ second date and you agreed to be his partner. Dating Husk was nice and he was kind to you and you were kind to him. After dating for a long while. He didn’t think about marriage until Alastor brought it up. Husk had trouble planning on how to ask for your hand in marriage, thankfully Alastor decided to help and made sure to keep Angel out of it.

Alastor had Niffty keep you distracted. Husk decided to use the garden and he got more help from Charlie and Vaggie to help. Angel snuck in to help but he did an amazing job with the fairy lights. Niffty leads you outside. You were always amazed at how beautiful the garden was and how well-kept it was. But it looked even more stunning at night and as you continued to walk. You stopped and saw Husk standing there holding a black box. Alastor, Angel, Charlie, and Vaggie held up separate signs that said. ‘ Will You Marry Me? ‘ You walked towards Husk and watched him open the box to reveal the ring. You smiled and nodded, you agreed to marry Husk which made the demonic-looking cat happy. He slipped the ring on your finger while the others left to give you and Husk some time alone. You and Husk walked through the garden while talking, laughing, and discussing wedding plans. When the wedding finally arrived, you stood in front of the mirror admiring your wedding outfit. Alastor would be walking you down the aisle. You walked up and held hands with Husk, going on to exchange vows and Husk went last. He let out a nervous chuckle. He saw Vaggie give a thumbs-up while holding Charlie close. Husk cleared his throat and began to speak.

“ (Y/N) When I first met you, I didn’t think you were always going to be this damn important to me. Ever since I arrived in Hell. I pushed people away and drowned myself in booze and gambling. Something to fill that empty void in my hard. I kept telling myself, I lost the ability to love years ago. That the only thing I should love was nothing… but then I met you, and you changed all that. You not only helped me change for you. But for myself, and I thank you for that. You may be a demon like me but you came into my life like an angel. And I can’t wait to go to bed seeing that beautiful face of yours and to wake up seeing it again, I love you (Y/N ) “

Husk finished speaking and stared at you. You both had tears in your eyes and then proceeded to kiss. Everyone cheered you to celebrate. You and Husk cut the cake together. Husk didn’t drink at all, he seemed happy with other beverages and the cake. It made you happy to see him enjoying something other than alcohol and gambling. After the wedding, Husk carried you home while you rambled about a honeymoon trip that you both could take. Husk chuckled. “ I’ll see how much is in the bank account doll. “ Husk plops down on the couch with you and held you close. The both of you decided to watch an old movie while cuddling on the couch. You placed your hand on Husk’s chest and he gave you a kiss on your chin. Husk was glad to have you in his life and he was glad to call you his spouse.

Angel Dust: Cherri had introduced you to Angel Dust and you weren’t sure what to think of him. But after a while, you two clicked and it was always fun with Angel around. The two of you loved to gossip, run around in the streets of hell, and sometimes dress up Fat Nugget. You had taught Angel about boundaries and how to respect people’s boundaries. You had sadly learned he didn’t know about boundaries because of Valentino. Oh, how you wanted to turn that bitch ass moth into dust for the things he did to Angel and what he made Angel do. It took some time but you eventually helped Angel learn about boundaries and even teach him how to set his own boundaries. The drug problem took some time and even with being in a relationship with him, it took some time. Angel even built the courage to stand up and walk away from Valentino. You and Angel had a nice relationship and he loved seeing you and Fat Nugget whenever he entered his room.

After a long while of dating, getting comfortable with each other, and growing with each other. Angel Dust wanted to marry you. And if he knew if his mother was here, then she would scream and be excited. He called up his siblings to help, then asked Vaggie and Charlie to help. All agreed to help. Molly decided to keep you distracted by telling you childhood stories about Angel while you two watched some movie, she picked out. Angel Dust planned a picnic on the rooftop of the hotel and brought Fat Nugget along for a good reason. Angel texted Molly to bring you up to the roof. Molly grabbed your hand and lead you to the flights of stairs to the rooftop. You gasped seeing the rooftop decorated and a small table with your favorite food, drinks, and dessert. Angel thanked his sister Molly for distracting you and his brother for cooking the food.

Angel pulled out your chair. You sat down and Angel called over Fat Nugget. You squealed wanting to see your little demon pig baby. But what made your (E/C) go wide was that Fat Nugget had a little pink velvet box on his back. He stopped in front of you and you looked at Angel who nodded at you. You picked up the box and opened it. Your eyes teared up as you stared at the ring and looked at Angel. “ Will you marry me? “ Angel asked and held out his hand. You smile with tears and nod at Angel, you slipped on the ring and offered him your hand. He placed a kiss on your hand and was happy you said yes. The two of you enjoyed the meal, soon the wedding had arrived, and with Angel was the extra spider he is. He went all out for this wedding. Vaggie was giving you away on your wedding day, and Fat Nugget was swinging rose petals from the basket. You and Angel held hands at the altar and exchanged vows, and Angel went last he seemed genuinely happy when he looked into your eyes.

“ I have never been good at writing sappy shit, I almost had Husk and Alastor helped me. But I decided to do this for myself. Because you taught me how to not only do things for myself but to stand up for myself. I love are loud and quiet moments. I love the way you smile and laugh, and that thing you do with your nose when you are mad. It’s adorable babe. But what I love most about you. Is that you didn’t give up on me. You saw me more than some annoying loud asshole. You saw my many layers and you showed me many layers of you. I’m so glad you came into my life. You mean the world to me and I want to continue making these layers with you, speaking of layers can’t wait to try the cake with you. But I mean when I see I love ya, and I can’t wait to see what memories you, me, and Fat Nugget make. “

The vows were beautiful and you kissed Angel. He held you close to kiss you more and everyone cheered. You both celebrated and enjoyed eating the cake. Even going as far as to smear each’s others’ faces with the cake frosting. Pictures being taken those pictures that would last a long time. You and Angel went to the rooftop while everyone was having fun. You both sat up there drinking and cuddling. “ I’m glad, I’m not in pain anymore. “ Angel said looking at you. “ I’m glad someone like you hit me with reality and took me seriously, I love you. “ Angel kissed you and held you close. The two of you watching the stars and holding each other close.

Rosie: You came across Rosie because you were Alastor’s little sibling. And Alastor loved having you by his side so you of course would be meeting Rosie. And the two of you enjoyed reading, talking, going on walks, and baking sweets. Throughout this beautiful friendship formed a relationship. And Rosie loved having you as a partner. She adored and spoiled you, with this long loving relationship, Rosie wanted to marry you. And she asked for Alastor’s blessing and your brother of course gave his blessing. He saw how Rosie treated you and he wanted not only Rosie but you to be happy as well. So Rosie and Alastor got to planning. You had been out shopping for groceries and running errands. When you arrived home at your and Rosie’s home. Something smelled good. You set the bags down and walked into the kitchen but didn’t see. You saw a cake sitting on the table it was your favorite flavor. You stepped closer and gasped seeing the frosting spelled out will you marry me with the ring on it like a little decoration “So will you? “ You turned around to see Rosie staring at you.

She walked over and looked at you. You smiled at her and said yes. She kissed you and smiled in the kiss. You pick up the ring from the cake and lick the frosting from it and slip it on your finger, you and Rosie decided to eat the cake. Rosie later that night called Alastor while you were sleeping and told him. That everything went well, he was glad to hear that. Soon the wedding had arrived and you both decided to have a garden wedding. You were walking down the aisle in your beautiful wedding outfit, Alastor was giving you away on your wedding day.

You stood up there with Rosie. Both wearing flower crowns and holding hands. Looking into each’s others’ eyes while smiling. She looked so beautiful in her wedding dress and she loved your wedding outfit. Alastor was proud to see his best friend and sibling getting married. He even got you both a nice wedding gift and couldn’t wait for you to both open it. But now it was time to exchange vows and Rosie went last.

“ My dear, (Y/N) how I have pictured this day. Standing here with you, with all our friends and family. I’m glad they witness mean marrying a beautiful soul and face like you. I’m glad that Alastor had introduced us because I saw you. I saw something bright, I just didn’t know that bright light would bring me closer to you, and I’m glad it did. For I want to see where this marriage will take us and what new memories we will make. I’m also happy that Alastor will be my brother-in-law since I always considered him family. And now I can consider you not just my spouse but my everything. You are the bee to my flower, the frosting to my cake, and the madness to my chaos. I love you my, (Y/N) thank you for this beautiful day. “

You and Rosie kissed. While everyone cheered, you and Rosie shared a dance. You also shared a dance with your big brother Alastor who kept telling you how proud of you, he was, he also wanted you and Rosie to open the gift which you both did. Alastor made you both a custom radio. You smiled and thanked him. After the wedding, you and Rosie went home. And changed into your sleepwear. She crawled into bed with you and peppers you in kisses, the two of you sharing a passionate kiss in bed, and broke away to stare at each other. You found beauty in her madness just like she did with you.

#helluva boss #hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #vox x reader #sir pentious x reader #husk x reader #angel dust x reader #rosie x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin vox #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin husk #hazbin angel dust #hazbin rosie #fan fiction #fandoms #fandom #fanfic #hazbin charlie #hazbin vaggie #hazbin niffty #hazbin velvet #hazbin valentino #writerscorner #writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr #my writing #request ☕📖

[where-dreams-dwell]

Dexter is a cautionary tale of the need to accept discomfort as a part of life, with Emma as his contrast and aspirational example.

Throughout the show Emma embodies determination and self assurance. The only reason she thinks she can change the world is.. because why couldn’t she? In contrast Dexter has no idea what he wants and kind of resents having to even think about it, hence his jumping between careers and looking for purpose for the whole show.

While Em knows what she wants emotionally (the satisfaction or having made a difference, the achievement of doing what she always wanted) but isn’t sure on the specifics of what that will look like (I’ll write plays, no write poetry, no I’ll teach, okay no I’ll write a book), Dexter knows the specifics (I’ll be rich and famous) but doesn’t know what he wants emotionally (‘what will that look like?’ ‘I don’t know’).

While Dex is always running from uncomfortable feelings Em faces then head on and comes out the other side, able to learn from them.

As Dex is travelling to put off making long term decisions, Em has taken the first opportunity to do what she wants: writing, be it books, poems or in this instance plays.

On holiday Dex can’t allow himself to admit that he fancy’s Em and to leave it at that, he has to run from the honesty and vulnerability of that moment by adding on ‘but I pretty much fancy everyone’. In doing this you could argue that he looses his chance with her for several years, where as Emma’s confidence could have resulted in them getting together much sooner.

Dex misses his mothers last birthday because he doesn’t want to face reality. Instead of reacting to the fear and anger and pain of her diagnosis by spending every moment he can with her, or sitting down to have heart to heart talks with her, or helping her out in any meaningful way Dex runs away and numbs himself with substances, and is passed out for the little time he is in her presence.

When he’s nervous people won’t (or already don’t) like him on TV he again turns to substances to numb his feelings, and (instead of taking Em’s advice to ignore them) looks for reassurance from hangers on who don’t actually know him that well. He can’t sit in that worry/fear/discomfort so he finds a way to stop feeling.

When Dex’s marriage falls apart we see him running away to Paris to visit Em. And sure there are ulterior motives here (his hope and assuming that this could be the start of their romantic relationship) but the writer shows him literally traveling away from the country where his failed marriage, child and previous life were as he is show to be angrily talking about his divorce. As an image it appears like he’s running away from the reality of the divorce or running to Em for a distraction. It definitely supports Ems assumptions that he’s not serious about a relationship with her; she’s seen this behaviour in Dex before.

It’s even funny how in small ways we don’t see him handle upsetting things until the very end. Talking about his first marriage and the production the day became? Dex admits he didn’t want to rock the boat so he didn’t fight anything/reject anything/ have much say at all in his wedding. Sylvie drops off Jasmine? Dex is still at the cafe so Em is the one managing slightly awkward small talk. Jasmine practising her violin? We get a brief moment with Dex too but mainly it’s Em sitting through the recitals. In that last episode when they’re struggling with fertility, Em is the one who sits down and talks out her anger and fear and worry, where as Dex (who probably knew what the root of it all was) was happy to leave her to process it how she need to and support her while she did. If she hadn’t brought it up he wouldn’t have said anything.

That’s not becisarily a bad thing (Dex could have known that Em needed to process it herself before talking to him) but it is interesting that the writers engineer Dex to avoid all these moments of emotional discomfort. It reinforces his characterisation of being avoidant when confronted with conflict.

In contrast we kind of constantly see Em having to face hard moments and working through them.

Don’t know what to do with your life? Move to London to try and aim to work in your dream field. London life and restaurant job not going the way you planned? Commit to Dex’s suggestion of teacher training. Time to confess a secret? Here’s a hugely personal one about my past feelings for you. Past crush admits he kind-if fancy’s you? Stick to being honest about your past feelings and don’t take the opening to downplay them. You feel shit about your life and your secret affair? Well let’s turn that into motivation to finally write that book.

Not happy with your long term partner? End the relationship.

Emma’s whole confrontation with Ian is a masterclass in facing difficult conversations and emotions, being vulnerable and open and honest about your feelings, and finding empathy for another outside your point of view. And look what she gains from facing that hard in comfortable conversation? Closure, and a kind of friendship, one that lasts even after she dies.

When Dex confessed that he hoped they would start a romantic relationship in Paris, Em sits him down and starts that hard conversation about how she doesn’t think that is 1) what he even wants and 2) would work between them. She doesn’t brush off of hide from the conversation. And then when she has more information and time to think she commits to Dex.

Even after they sleep together there’s a scene of Em laying the ground rules, making it clear to Dex what she will and won’t stand in this relationship. That’s an awkward conversation to have but Em doesn’t hesitate and makes sure he knows from the get go what she expects and deserves. The writers are constantly showing us ‘Em doesn’t run from uncomfortable feelings��.

And then the tragic twist of fate: Emma is gone and Dexter finally has to learn to live with emotional discomfort. He can’t keep running because there is no escaping this, not like he did with his mum. Like he says to Imaginary-Emma ‘why would time change anything’. He is going to feel like this forever, there is no escaping it. Finally he is learning to face it, manage it, and work through it.

Of course Emma is far more than a literally device and is her own layered and well established character. But in this regard for Dex it’s almost as if she’s the final lesson for him to work through to grow up enough so he can eventually choose to return to the place they met.

And it could even come across as a reward for him; in learning to live with those difficult emotions, his reward is being able to remember Emma fondly, and to return to the place they met to seek out those memories. The memories are bittersweet, but now he remembers Emma as she was and not how she never got to be.

Like his dad said, he is eventually able to ‘live [his] life as if she were still here’ but in order to do that he first had to accept that she was gone.

#spoilers #one day #one day netflix #dexter mayhew #emma morley #grief #emotional maturity #grief is love persevering #emotionally avoidant #I feel like he runs from pain #and doesn’t know how to handle it manage it #so he ignores it and runs from it #until the universe says ‘fuck you’ and makes it unavoidable #media analysis

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind

Title: Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Fandom: Enola Holmes series

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: As you were getting close to Sherlock, he stops visiting. You pop over to Baker Street and share an eye-opening moment.

Warnings: age gap(reader is about 20 in this, Sherlock is mid-30s), slight voyeurism, masturbation (male), handjob, unprotected p-in-v sex (wrap it up y’all), creampie

A/N: I’ve been throwing around this idea about Sherlock for quite some time. I hope you enjoy it. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist 

You’ve been friends with Enola for a short time, only since the beginning of the year. She’s led you on a few fun adventures, but more often than not, she’s led you on wild goose chases. She has helped you come out of your shell and you are grateful for that. On days that you weren’t exploring the countryside or causing a ruckus in the city, you would lounge around her large house. 

Spending time with her in her large house had its benefits. One of which was 6’1 with a head of unruly curls. The famous Sherlock Holmes was your best friend’s big brother. He lived in the city but came to visit Enola every week. 

You always made sure to be available on those days. If only for the chance to say hello to Sherlock. You wanted more but, truth be told, he made you a bit nervous.

You tried your best to keep calm when he would arrive, but Enola noticed your demeanor change every time. She teased you endlessly about your little crush and you would always bring up Tewkesbury. That would usually shut her up.

In truth, she did not care that you liked her brother, she just didn’t want you to waste your time. The man was not exactly sociable unless he found value in the opinions of others. One opinion he respected was that of his sister. You could sit and watch them talk for hours. She would get him to laugh with her jokes, and he would bring her to annoyance with his riddles.

You would interject a thought here and there and when Sherlock would give his attention to you, you froze. Something about the look in his eyes, it was more than attention. It was intense as if the two of you were the only ones in the world let alone the room.

More than once, Enola had cleared her throat loudly to get you and Sherlock’s attention back on her. But sometimes, she would just listen to you ramble on while Sherlock seemed enthralled in your thoughts. You mused about music and how interesting you thought his cases were. The more you spoke with him, the more comfortable you felt around him. 

Sherlock would show up now and then with little trinkets from his cases. At first, it was just things for Enola, but soon he would start bringing you little gifts as well. He started small with a single flower or a tasty treat from his favorite bakery. But soon, his gifts grew oddly specific. He bought you a brooch you had mentioned seeing at a store in the city. He would learn pieces of music from a composer you talked about and play it for you, much to the chagrin of Enola who wasn’t a fan of the violin.

It was when he didn’t visit for two weeks that you started to realize you were developing feelings for the older detective. You’d come to enjoy his presence and not because of his gifts. You just enjoyed seeing his face light up when he saw you. You relished the power you felt when the normally unflappable and distant man would sit enthralled when you gave voice to your thoughts. 

So, why did it stop so suddenly? Had you done something to offend him? 

You wracked your brain and Enola’s brain for that matter. She gave you his address so you could go and talk to him and she could finally be free of your fretting. 

You arrive at 221 Baker Street, your hands trembling as you knock on the main door. A sweet woman opens the door and introduces herself as Ms. Hudson. When you ask to speak to Sherlock, she sends you up the steps to 221B.

As you’re about to knock, a man opens the door and almost collides with you.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. May I help you, Miss?” 

“Ehm, I’m here to see Mr. Holmes…but I can come back if that’s–” You are cut off when he speaks again.

“You wouldn’t happen to be friends with Enola, would you?” You nod, giving your name, “Of course, Sherlock mentioned you. I’m Dr. John Watson, and I have to be going but you are more than welcome to come in. Sherlock is just in his room down the hall.” He points around the corner from the door and walks past you before waving goodbye.

So, that’s how you end up in Sherlock’s apartment. It is eerily quiet and you think he might be asleep. That is until you hear soft moans coming from down the hall. Your first thought is it must have been the floorboards creaking under your feet.

What you hear next is the unmistakable sound of your name followed by a whimper. It sounded like Sherlock was calling to you, but how would he know you were here already? You walk down the hallway quietly and see that his bedroom door is slightly ajar.

Peeking in, you are blessed with a sight! Sherlock is laid out on his bed with his shirt and waistcoat open, his hairy chest on full display as it rises and falls quickly. His beautiful face constricted in pain one second, solemn and peaceful in the next. His curls are a sweaty mess on his forehead. One hand is fisting the sheets at his side and the other hand is wrapped around his thick veiny dick. You’re mesmerized watching him stroke himself until you hear him moan your name again.

In a moment of bravery, you step into the room. Your bosom heaves in your bodice as you breathe shallowly, adrenaline coursing through your veins. 

His hand stops its ministrations and he looks to you as you walk towards him. He’s frozen on the spot and can only watch you as you climb atop the bed and lay next to him. You replace his hand with yours and continue to pump his dick. Your hand barely fits around him and you enjoy the feel of his soft uncut length in your hand.

His hands come up to caress your face and pull you down for a kiss. When his tongue begs for entry, you allow it in. Heatedly, you mold your mouth to his, letting your moans and whimpers be consumed by him. Breaking the kiss, he looks into your eyes and you can tell he is close.

You remove your hand from him and stand up from the bed. It is only when you remove your undergarments does Sherlock understand why you stopped. Climbing back on the bed, you settle yourself with your cunt dripping onto him.

“I want you to be certain that you–” You cut him off as you slink down, his velvety smoothness sliding inside your wet heat. You take a moment to get used to the sheer size of him. He stretches you almost painfully. Leaning down, you whisper into his ear.

“Do I seem certain, Mr. Holmes?”

Instead of an answer, Sherlock groans and twitches inside you. His hands travel under your skirt and rest on your hips. You take that as a sign and sit up. With your hands on his chest, you begin to ride him slowly, agonizingly to the point where his hands start to guide you to a quicker pace. 

Using you like a ragdoll, he flips you so he is atop you while you are on your back. He slams into you repeatedly and you are no longer in control. He savors the sounds coming from you as he fucks into you. He urges you on as he kisses and licks and nips at your neck, careful not to leave any marks.

Pulling out, he moves you to your hands and knees before inserting himself again. The angle allows him to go deeper and you thank the Gods for it. As he holds onto you, he hammers into you. The filthy utterances that come from his mouth only serve to solidify the notion that he missed you too.

“I knew you would feel like Heaven, my sweet angel…”

“This pretty pussy belongs to me now…”

“You would look so perfect with my cum dripping out of you…”

“I could fuck you all day and night and still never get enough of you…”

“Be my good angel and come all over my cock,” He reaches down and rubs your clit between two fingers as he plows into you. You never stood a chance, your walls quivering around him within moments, “That’s my good girl. So good…for me. Fuck, so close!”

“Sherlock, please! Need you to fill me with all you have to give!” You surprise yourself and your lover with those words. 

Sherlock’s answering grunts as he makes mincemeat of your pussy are music to your ears. His punishing thrusts falter and he pulls you flush to him. He’s deep enough to kiss your cervix with the tip of his dick. You feel him swell inside you and it’s enough to make you climax again, milking him through his release. 

And the noises he makes when he comes are more intricate than the 24 Caprices. You’re sure that Sherlock would disagree but you don’t even care. You revel in the melody of his moans and surrender to its hold on you.

Sherlock’s hands roam over your back, your hips, your ass, and your thighs. As if he can’t get enough of you. He doesn’t pull out until you wiggle your hips, a sign that your legs are tired. Extricating himself from your sensitive folds allows his spend to escape. He catches what slips free and pushes it all back in before helping you lay down on your front.

He lays down next to you, pulling you close to him with one arm while the other rests behind his head. He looks so peaceful as he closes his eyes and hums. The feminine urge for pillow talk is high, but so is the need to just bask in this moment.

You’re in the arms of the man you care for, who also adores you. You rest your cheek on his shoulder and tangle your fingers in his chest hair. You breathe in his smell, his pheromones are surely on high alert from your activity. When he rests his head against yours, you feel at peace.

You do plan on talking to Sherlock later about everything. But, for now, you can take pleasure in the simplicity of the harmonization of your heartbeats.

A/N: The title of this fic is taken from The Neighborhood’s Sweater Weather. There is an amazing violin version of this song by Joel Sunny. And anything violin makes me think of Sherlock.

A/N: Also, I know Ms. Hudson wasn't featured in Enola Holmes, but I love her as a character and I wanted to use her.

**Tag List**

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67

@astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

#sherlock holmes henry cavill #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #enola holmes fanfiction #enola holmes #enola holmes 2 #henry!holmes x reader #henry!holmes #henry!sherlock #henry cavill sherlock holmes #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #henry cavill fan fiction #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction

[d-targaryenshoe]

Fire And Flame - Anthony Bridgerton

Word count: 1716

Summary: New arrivals always cause a fuss, but when you catch the attention of rather three brothers, it is not, right?

The air was thick with anticipation as if the very fabric of Bridgerton society was waiting with bated breath for the moment your carriage would roll up to the estate.

 Even the servants, usually so reserved and proper, couldn't help but whisper amongst themselves about the latest gossip regarding your impending arrival. 

You knew why they were all so interested, of course. After all, you were Daphne's well-known friend, and everyone in the ton was desperate to catch a glimpse of the new girl on at the ton.

 Little did they know that you had no intention of becoming another pawn in their social games.

As your carriage finally came to a stop, you took a deep breath and smoothed down your dress, trying to steady your nerves. 

You hadn't expected the butterflies to be this bad, but then again, this wasn't just any ball. 

This was the first event since the news of Daphne's betrothal to Simon had spread like wildfire through the ton.

 Everyone would be watching you, waiting to see how you interacted with the Bridgerton brothers, speculating about who among them might have a chance with you.

You took one last look around the carriage before opening the door and stepping out, your heels sinking into the soft grass of the estate.

 The sound of a violin drifted through the air, accompanied by the gentle hum of conversation from the guests. 

The setting sun cast a warm glow over the lawn, making it seem as if the entire world was bathed in gold.

 And there they were, the Bridgerton brothers, standing at the top of the stairs, their eyes locked on you, as you made your way up the steps.

Anthony, the eldest, towered over his brothers, his expression unreadable. 

Beside him, Benedict looked nervous and shy, his hands fidgeting with his cufflinks. 

And then there was Colin, the youngest, who looked as if he'd just been caught stealing sweets from the pantry.

 He gave you a crooked grin and winked, making you feel a little more at ease.

As you reached the top of the stairs, your heart raced as you took in the scene before you, hundreds of people dressed in their finest, all of them watching you with eager eyes. 

You forced yourself to smile, to stand tall and confident despite the trembling in your legs.

 This was your first step into the world of the Bridgertons, and you refused to let anyone intimidate you.

 As the violinist began to play a waltz, Anthony stepped forward, his hand extended toward you.

 "Shall we?" he asked, his voice smooth as silk.

You hesitated for a moment, glancing around the lawn before finally meeting his gaze.

 "Yes," you said, placing your hand in his. "Let's dance."

As you began to move across the dance floor, Anthony's strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. 

You could feel his heart racing beneath his vest, could see the determination in his eyes. 

He was going to win this, you realized. He was going to make you his wife. 

And whether you wanted it or not, whether you could resist him or not, you knew that this dance, this night, was only the beginning of a journey that neither of you could escape from.

Benedict and Colin watched us from the sidelines, their expressions a mix of envy and amusement. 

They knew as well as anyone that their father's expectations were weighing heavily upon them, but they also knew that they couldn't let it consume them entirely.

They were still young, after all, and had their whole lives ahead of them.

 As the night wore on, you found youself growing more and more fond of them both, despite the constant competition between them.

The music shifted from waltz to a lively reel, and before you knew it, Colin had swept you off your feet, his laughter filling the air. 

He spun you around and around, your skirts fluttering like wings, your heart racing with the thrill of it all. 

For a moment, you forget about Anthony and the pressures of the ton, and you let yourself simply enjoy the night, the music, and the company of your new friends.

But as the evening progressed, you couldn't help but notice the way Anthony's gaze followed you, the way he seemed to be everywhere you went.

 It was as if he was willing you to give in to him, to admit that he was the one you wanted. 

And despite your best efforts to resist, you found yourself growing more and more aware of the connection between you both, the chemistry that sizzled whenever you were in the same room.

Finally, as the last rays of sunlight disappeared beyond the horizon, the music faded away, and the guests began to file out of the ballroom, you knew that the time had come to make a decision. 

Anthony was still watching you, his eyes burning into yours, daring you to say no. 

And as much as you wanted to deny it, to hold out hope for something more, something different, you knew deep down that he was the only one who could make you truly happy. 

So, with a sigh and a shaky breath, you turned to face him, ready to give him your answer.

He took a step forward, his expression unreadable as he waited for you to speak.

 The air between the both of you crackled with tension, and you could feel the weight of the world on your shoulders. 

"Anthony," you began, your voice barely audible over the sound of your breathing.

"I cannot deny that I'm drawn to you, that there is a connection between us. But I must ask you, can you promise me that our marriage will be different? That you will let me be myself, and not just some possession to be won?"

For a moment, his expression softened, and you dared to hope that he understood what you were saying.

 But then the familiar determination returned, and he nodded solemnly. 

"Yes," he said, his voice firm.

 "I can promise you that our marriage will be different. I will love you, cherish you, and respect your independence. You will always be my equal, and together, we will build a life filled with love and happiness."

His words washed over you like a warm summer breeze, and for a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, he was telling the truth. 

Perhaps there was a way for you two to navigate the waters of the ton together, as partners. 

And so, with a shaky breath and a fluttering heart, you reached out and took his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours.

 "Then I accept," you whispered, your voice barely audible even to yourself. "I will marry you, Anthony."

As your hands clasped together, a spark seemed to ignite between both of you and for a moment, it felt as if the entire world had disappeared, leaving only the two of you standing there in the center of the empty ballroom. 

He leaned in, his lips mere inches from yours, and you could feel the anticipation building within you, the desire to feel his touch, to know what it would be like to be his wife.

But just as you were about to close the distance between you both, he pulled away, stepping back to look at you once more. His expression had grown solemn, almost somber. 

"There is one more thing I must ask of you," he said quietly.

 "Will you allow me to court you properly? To show you the sort of man I am, and the sort of life we could have together?"

You thought for a moment, considering his words. It was more than you had asked for, more than you had dared to hope for. 

And as you looked into his sincere eyes, you knew that you could trust him to keep his word. 

"Yes," you replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "I would like that very much."

Anthony smiled back, and for a moment, it was as if a weight had been lifted from both of you.

 He took your hand once more, this time leading you through the empty ballroom and out into the hallway beyond. 

The soft light from the sconces cast long shadows across the polished wood floor, creating an intimate, almost secretive atmosphere.

 As you walked, he began to tell you stories about his childhood, his family, and his dreams for the future. 

And as you listened, you felt a connection growing between you both, a bond that transcended mere attraction or social obligation.

You continued to walk and talk for what seemed like hours, lost in your own little world, oblivious to the hustle and bustle of the party going on around you.

 And when at last you heard the butler announce that it was time for you to retire to your rooms, you knew that this was only the beginning of a journey that promised to be filled with love, laughter, and countless adventures. 

As you turned to face each other, your hands still clasped together, you felt a thrill of anticipation run through you, and for the first time in your life, you knew without a doubt that you were making the right decision.

"Thank you," you whispered, your eyes never leaving his. "For giving me this chance, for promising me that our marriage will be different."

He smiled down at you, his eyes soft and tender. 

"Thank you, my dearest y/n," he replied, using your name for the first time. "It is my greatest honor and privilege to be your husband." 

And with that, he leaned forward, his lips meeting yours in a tender, loving kiss that left you breathless and wanting more. 

As you stood there, lost in the moment, you couldn't help but wonder what the future held for you both, and whether your love would be strong enough to survive the trials and tribulations that surely lay ahead. 

But for now, as you stood together in the dimly lit hallway, the world seemed to fade away, and there was nothing but him and you, and the promise of a lifetime of happiness together.

#anthony bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton netflix #colin bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #anthony x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x y/n #x reader #colin bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x you #eloise bridgerton

[kishibe-kisser]

hi how you doing ??? Mmmmm can i request a fic for sukuna x Ballerina reader???🥺🥺🥺🥺 i'm a Ballerina and i want really to know how would he react about that i just can't imagine it right😭😭😭

This could be very fun

Personal Jewellery Box (Sukuna)

Tags: Sukuna x ballerina reader, mentions of injury, pet names, implications of murder

There was no beauty in humanity, not to him. Sukuna had lived a long time and there was very little in the world that made him feel sympathy towards humans, they didn't care for each other. He felt no need in caring for them either.

Classical music wasn't his cup of tea either, high pitched screeching of violins doing nothing more than give him a headache. It was one of the reasons he stumbled across you in the first place, he wanted to make the music stop and if that meant putting an end to you too, it didn't matter to him. Sukuna wasn't above it in any way.

Spinning, you didn't see the man staring at you through the window of the studio. You could only feel the pain in your feet as you danced through your routine once again. The toe pads in your pointe shoes were worn through and as much as you needed new ones, the effort of breaking them in not being something you were looking forward to.

So you pushed past the pain, pirouetting through the studio before coming to a grinding halt. Your face being mere centimeters from a smirking man. Sukuna no longer wanted to put an end to the music, he wanted to see you dance just a little longer. He was mesmerized, your movements filled with grace and strength. It was new to him, someone with so much physical discipline... it was interesting. If something amused him, he was prone to keep it and it took him no 2 seconds to decide he was keeping you.

"Turn like that again." He grumbled, his hands on your waist as he spun you gently. He liked doing this, feeling your muscles contract under his hands. Watching you dance and feeling you dance were his favorite things. Your cheeks were warm, heating up with every touch of his rough hands. It was something you could never quite get used to. No one admired your dancing as much as him and that from the king of curses, it made you a better dancer.

"Beautiful." He remarked, stopping you to face mirror of the practice room. His face was next to yours as he held you in your position. His hands were large on your body, making it hard to maintain your position. A smile stretched over his face, feeling you start to shake a little. "My pretty little performer." He said softly, releasing his grip on you. It was his nonverbal way of saying you could relax.

"You, sweetheart are like my own personal jewellery box. Doing a little twirl any time I ask." He added on, urging you to sit next to him. Sukuna raised your leg over his lap and started to undo the ribbons of your pointe shoes. "I'm nervous for the show." You admitted to him, hissing as his hand massaged your bruised feet. It was amusing to you, other people in your life wouldn't take the time to do this however he didn't bat an eyelash.

"You can't be nervous. When you're on stage just imagine my hands are the one holding you in place up there." He told you, applying more pressure on your strained muscles. Using your leg, he harshly pulled you into his lap and his chest pressed into your back. He held your chin and forced you to look into the mirror again.

"Besides, anyone who makes my little dancer feel bad about her dancing will have hell to pay with me."

A/N: This is very short because I did not know what to write but I still really liked this? It's very different.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader

[gvnvks]

wiping their kisses away … !

> pairings: non-idol!zb1 x fem!reader

> warnings: lowercase intended, not proofread

> song recommendation: understand by keshi

> note: requests in the making !!!

김 jiwoong.

you and jiwoong were walking along a scenic path, surrounded by lush greenery and colorful flowers. the warm sun shone down on you, and a light breeze carried the sweet fragrance of the nearby blooming cherry blossom trees. as you strolled along the path, jiwoong leaned in for a quick kiss. when your lips met, you jokingly wiped the kiss away with the back of your hand. “what, you don't like my kisses?” jiwoong asked, pretending to be hurt. “i don't want to get all sticky from your chapstick” you teased. jiwoong scoffed and playfully attacked your face with little pecks, making you giggle uncontrollably. you tried to dodge his kisses, but jiwoong was too quick. as you continued your playful battle of kisses, you suddenly stumbled and fell onto the grass, still wrapped in each other's embrace, but jiwoong wasn't done yet. he continued to pepper your face with kisses, making you squirm and giggle even more. eventually, he slowed down, lying next to you in the grass and catching his breath. “looks like i win,” your boyfriend said triumphantly, hovering over you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “are you sure?” you asked with a wide grin forming on your face. jiwoong laughed and leaned in for a kiss, but this time you eagerly met him halfway, your lips melting together in a sweet, passionate embrace. as you pulled away, jiwoong smiled down at you, “im pretty lucky to have you, you know?”

장 hao.

hao sat in his bedroom, his violin resting on his shoulder as he tried out a new piece he had been practicing. you sat beside him on the bed, watching him play with admiration. as he reached the climax of the piece, you couldn't resist teasing him. “you know, hao, for someone who plays the violin so beautifully, you look like a little kid concentrating on a video game.” hao couldn't help but grin at your comment. “hey now, im allowed to be serious about my music.” he replied, his fingers still expertly dancing across the strings. you leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, but before you could pull away, hao caught your lips with his. you giggled and pulled away, wiping his kiss off with a playful smile. your boyfriend frowned at you, clearly annoyed. “what's the matter? you didn't like my kiss?” hao asked, his tone slightly hurt. you immediately realized your mistake and tried to reassure him. “no, no, of course i did. i just like to tease you sometimes.” you said, placing a hand on his arm. hao still looked upset, so you leaned in and placed a series of quick kisses all over his face, leaving little moles of affection behind. “is that better?” you asked, a playful grin on your face. hao's expression softened as he looked at you, his irritation melting away. “much better. im sorry, i just get a little sensitive about my playing sometimes.” he said, reaching out to take your hand, his violin long forgotten on the floor. your boyfriend leaned in and kissed you again, this time making sure to hold you close so you couldn't wipe it away. you laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck, enjoying the feel of his lips on yours.

성 hanbin.

you and hanbin had decided to try couple yoga for the first time, hoping to strengthen your bond and have some fun together. you were both a little nervous but excited to give it a go. you had found a quiet spot in the park, with a soft grassy area perfect for your yoga mats. as you began the first pose, your boyfriend couldn't help but stare at your beautiful form. your lithe body moved gracefully as you stretched and twisted into position. you both giggled as you struggled to hold the poses, but your laughter only made the experience more enjoyable. as you moved into the next pose, your faces came dangerously close to each other. hanbin couldn't resist the temptation any longer and leaned in for a kiss. you, caught off guard, quickly wiped the kiss away and playfully scolded him. ”hey hanbin, we're supposed to be focusing on our yoga here” you teased. hanbin pretended to be offended and jokingly pushed you, causing you to fall right on top of him. as you landed on his chest, he wrapped his arms around you and began attacking your whole body in kisses. he started with your hands, making his way up to your face. you couldn't help but laugh and squirm under his ticklish touches, but eventually, you pushed him away and stood up. ”you done?” you said still giggling. hanbin got up and hugged you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. "for now, but im definitely doing that again.”

석 matthew.

you and matthew had decided to spend the evening cooking dinner together in your cozy apartment. as you diced vegetables and stirred pots on the stove, you chatted about your day and laughed at each other's jokes. the smell of garlic and onions filled the air, and the sound of sizzling filled your ears. matthew couldn't help but feel a surge of love for you as he watched you move around the kitchen with ease, your hair falling in loose waves around your face. your boyfriend decided that this was the perfect moment to try and steal a kiss. as you stirred a pot on the stove, matthew snuck up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “you know what's missing?” he said, leaning in for a kiss. you giggled and playfully wiped his kiss away with the back of your hand. “not right now, matthew.” your boyfriend couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, but he didn't let it show. “okay, okay. but later?” he asked, a hopeful tone in his voice. you smiled and turned around in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “we'll see,” you said, planting a quick peck on his lips before returning to your cooking. as the evening went on, you continued to cook together, sharing stories and sipping wine. the smells of your dinner wafted through the apartment, making your stomachs growl in anticipation. finally, the meal was ready, and you sat down at the table to enjoy it together. the food was delicious, and you savored each bite, enjoying the fruits of your labor. as you finished your meal and cleared the table, matthew couldn't help but think about the kiss he had missed out on earlier. he decided to try one more time. he walked up to you and took your hand, pulling you close. “(y/n), i know we're busy and we have a lot to do, but I just can't help myself. i need to kiss you.”

김 taerae.

taerae had been practicing his vocals for hours, his voice echoing through the empty studio. you had been patiently waiting for him to finish so you could go out and enjoy the rest of your day together. as taerae finished his last note, he turned to you with a smile on his face. “okay, I'm ready to go now,” he said, reaching out to take your hand. but before he could lead you out of the studio, he leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the lips. you wiped his kiss away with your hand, giggling. taerae's smile faded and he looked at you, pretending to be offended. “what was that for?” your boyfriend asked, his voice laced with mock hurt. you laughed and shrugged. “i don't know. i just felt like it,” you said, your eyes sparkling. taerae couldn't stay mad at you for long, and he quickly regained his good humor. “well, fine then. be that way,” he said, crossing his arms, a pout forming on his face. you walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “don't be like that, taerae. you know i love you,” you said, kissing him on the cheek. taerae's pout melted away, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. “i love you too," he said, his voice low and full of emotion. you stood there for a moment, lost in each other's embrace, the only sound in the room being the beating of your hearts. finally, you pulled away, ready to go out and enjoy the rest of your day together. as you walked out of the studio hand in hand, taerae couldn't help but feel grateful for you and the love you shared.

리키 ricky.

it was a beautiful spring afternoon, you and were lounging on a cozy blanket in a nearby park. the sky was clear, and the sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow on your faces. as you cuddled, ricky couldn't help but steal a quick kiss from you. you wiped it away, but ricky wasn't deterred. he attacked your face with a flurry of kisses, leaving chapstick marks all over. you laughed and pushed him away, but you couldn't help but smile at your boyfriends playful antics. “ricky, what are you doing?” you laughed. ricky grinned mischievously. “im just giving you some love, babe. you know you love it,” he teased. you rolled your eyes but snuggled closer to him. “i do love it, but now i have your chapstick all over my face,” you said, trying to wipe the marks off. ricky chuckled and leaned in to kiss your cheek, his lips leaving a fresh mark. “there, now you have even more love on your face,” he said with a grin. you shook your head but couldn't help but smile. “you're so stupid, ricky.” you said, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the lips. ricky wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. “i love you, you know that?” he said, his voice soft and sincere. you snuggled into his chest, feeling content and loved. “i love you too, ricky. you make me so happy,” you said, looking up at him with adoration. your boyfriend kissed the top of your head, feeling grateful for the beautiful day and the beautiful girl in his arms. as you continued to cuddle and bask in the warmth of the sun, ricky couldn't help but feel like the luckiest man in the world.

김 gyuvin.

you and your boyfriend were cuddled up on the couch, each engrossed in your favorite video game. you had been playing for hours, your fingers rapidly pressing buttons as you battled through challenging levels. gyuvin was starting to get frustrated with the game, his character repeatedly dying as he struggled to beat a difficult boss. he let out a groan of annoyance, feeling his tension rising. you noticed his frustration and scooted closer to him, wrapping your arm around his shoulder. “it's just a game. don't get too worked up,” you said soothingly. gyuvin nodded, trying to calm himself down. he leaned his head against yours, feeling your warmth and comfort. “i know. its just so frustrating,” he muttered. you smiled sympathetically and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “i believe in you, gyuvin. youll get through this level,” you said encouragingly. your boyfriend turned his head and captured your lips in a gentle kiss, hoping to ease his frustration with a little bit of affection. but you wiped away the kiss, giggling. “hey, no kissing during the game. youll make me lose my focus,” you teased. gyuvin pouted, feeling a little disappointed. “but I just wanted to show you some love," he said, trying to steal another kiss. you pushed him away playfully, still giggling. “save it for after we beat this boss, okay? we need to focus,” you said, determined to help him through the game. gyuvin grinned, feeling grateful for your support and understanding. he leaned in to give you a quick peck on the cheek before returning his attention to the game. as you continued to play, his frustration began to subside, replaced with a sense of determination. he knew he could beat this level with you by his side, cheering him on. as you finally defeated the boss, your victory was all the sweeter for having been achieved together. you high-fived each other, feeling a sense of accomplishment and closeness that only comes from sharing a challenging experience. gyuvin leaned in to kiss you again, this time earning a delighted giggle instead of a playful swipe. you cuddled up once more, content in each other's arms and in the knowledge that you made a great team, both in gaming and in love.

박 gunwook.

gunwook had always been a skilled dancer, and he loved nothing more than sharing his passion with you. as you stood in the spacious studio, the sun streaming in through the windows, gunwook gently guided you through the steps of a complicated routine. you were a little clumsy at first, your feet tripping over themselves as you struggled to keep up. but gunwook was patient and encouraging, his warm smile and gentle touch helping you to find your rhythm. as you moved together, your bodies in perfect sync, gunwook couldn't resist stealing a quick kiss from you. you giggled and jokingly wiped the kiss away, teasing him. “no kissing during dance practice. youll throw off my balance,” you joked, winking at him. your boyfriend laughed, feeling a little embarrassed. “sorry, sorry. i couldn't help myself. you just looked so beautiful,” he said, feeling his cheeks heat up. you grinned, feeling a rush of affection for him. “i know, but we have work to do. lets get back to it,” you said, pulling him back into the dance. gunwook felt grateful for your understanding and support. he loved that you shared his passion for dance and that you could bond over something so beautiful and expressive. as you continued to dance, your movements growing more fluid and natural, your boyfriend found himself admiring your grace and skill. you were a quick learner, your body moving with a natural ease that took his breath away. as you finished the routine, collapsing into each other's arms with a sense of triumph, gunwook couldn't resist stealing another kiss. this time, you laughed and playfully wiped it away, but he could tell that you were secretly pleased. as you left the studio, your bodies humming with energy and excitement, gunwook felt a deep sense of connection and love for you. he knew that you had a special bond, one that went beyond dance and touched the very core of your beings.

한 yujin.

you and yujin had a small disagreement earlier in the day, but you were determined to make things right. you were sitting on the couch in his dorm, your legs draped over his lap as you held a makeup kit in your hands. “come on, yujin, let me put some makeup on you. it‘ll be fun,” you said, grinning. yujin raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical. “makeup? i don't know about that. what if i look ridiculous?” you shook your head. “you won't look ridiculous. i promise. just trust me,” you said, reaching over to grab his face and turn it towards you. as you began to apply some lipstick to his lips, yujin couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious. he’d never worn makeup before, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. but as he looked into your eyes, he felt a sense of warmth and affection wash over him. you were so beautiful, and he loved the way you were trying to make him feel special. as you finished painting his lips, yujin couldn't resist leaning in for a kiss. he pressed his lips against yours, feeling a surge of desire course through his body. but you wiped the kiss away, smiling. “no smudging the lipstick. you look too good to mess it up,” you said, grinning. yujin chuckled, feeling a little embarrassed. “i couldn't help myself. you just look so beautiful,” he said, reaching out to cup your face in his hands. you smiled, feeling a rush of affection for him. “let's finish this makeup session first. i want to see how you look when im done,” you said, picking up a brush and beginning to apply some eyeliner. as you worked on his eyes, yujin began to relax, enjoying the feeling of your hands on his face. he couldn't help but feel grateful for your love and support, and he knew that he was lucky to have you in his life. when you were finished, you turned him towards the mirror, smiling. “there. what do you think?” yujin looked at himself in the mirror, feeling a little self-conscious at first, but as he studied his reflection, he couldn't help but feel a sense of surprise and admiration. he looked… good. different, but good. “you know what? i like it. i look... cool,” he said, a smile creeping on his face. you laughed, feeling a sense of pride. “see? i told you. you look amazing,” you said, winking at him. yujin laughed, feeling a sense of lightness and joy. he knew that you still had some things to work out, but for now, he was content to just be with you, enjoying this moment of love and playfulness.

gvnvks © 2023

#zb1 #zerobaseone #zb1 misc #zb1 reactions #zb1 headcanons #zb1 drabbles #zb1 scenarios #zb1 imagines #boys planet #boys planet x reader #zb1 x reader #boys planet reactions #boys planet headcanons #kim jiwoong #zhang hao #sung hanbin #kim taerae #kim gyuvin #ricky #ricky shen #shen quanrui #park gunwook #han yujin #seok matthew

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 9: Hold

You and Joel go on your first patrol alone. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-8 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 6.8k 

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Hey Bambi!” Tommy jogged up Joel’s front steps and leaned against a post, examining you. You were tucked into a corner of the porch, your back against the front of Joel’s house, guitar on your lap. You stopped playing, looking up at him as he smirked a little at you. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here. Didn’t know you played!” 

“Oh Miller,” you sighed. “I imagine the things you don’t know would fill several libraries.” 

“See, Bambi, this is why I’m glad I’m not goin’ out on patrol with you anymore,” he clutched his heart, mockingly wounded. “You’d just try to kill me out there without Joel to hold you back.” 

“You really think Joel could stop me if I wanted to kill you?” You teased, brows raised. 

“You really think I’d try to stop her?” Joel was standing inside the doorway, arms crossed, the screen door the only thing between him and the outside. “She’s tryin’ to kill you, you probably deserve it.” 

You smiled a little, liking the small intimacy of the front door of Joel’s home sitting open when you were there. In the weeks you’d been playing guitar at Joel’s, you’d made a lot of progress. Once you’d mastered Bad Moon Rising and House of the Rising Sun you started going through the CDs at your house, finding songs you used to know and refreshing your memory. You practiced chord progressions on the handles of shovels in the stables and hummed the melodies as you worked with the horses. When the work was done, you’d get cleaned up and go to Joel’s. 

You’d never explicitly said you would be coming by all the time but he quickly grew to expect it, often meeting you on the porch with the guitar in hand before you even had a chance to knock on his door. 

He usually left you to it, disappearing back into his house - always reminding you that you were welcome to come inside any time you wanted - but he sometimes would sit on the porch with a book or a cup of tea, politely looking toward the horizon to not make you uncomfortable. You still caught him glancing your way every few minutes but you never said anything. 

“I want to hear you play,” you said one night when he met you on the porch. 

He laughed a little.

“Promise you don’t, Bambi,” he held the guitar out to you but you didn’t take it, hands in your back pockets. 

“Yes I do.” 

He sighed and shook his head but smiled a little. 

“Please?” You asked, thumbs anxiously rubbing the seams of your pockets. You didn’t want to make joel do anything he didn’t want to do but something in you desperately wanted to hear him play. Since he’s said he wanted to be a musician you’d wanted to hear him play, be able to see and know that side of him. 

Music had always felt strangely intimate to you. It was the only way you really felt comfortable expressing your feelings and you’d never really understood how people could just get up and perform for hundreds or thousands. The closest you’d ever come was playing violin for the damn beauty pageants your mother made you do as a girl, until you figured out that if you said “fuck you” during the question and answer portion they wouldn’t allow you to come back. But you knew Joel listened to you playing. Sometimes he was more obvious about it. Other times, he quietly opened a window just a bit and didn’t say anything, like he thought you wouldn’t notice. You never bothered to correct him. 

You felt oddly OK with Joel listening to you play. It felt like he already knew so much of you, listening to your music wasn’t going to change any of it. You wanted to know him that way, too. Wanted to be closer to him that way since being physically near him made you nervous. 

“Alright,” he sighed. “Ain’t played for anyone in a while so don’t expect me to be some rockstar.” 

You scoffed. 

“Rockstars are boring assholes anyway,” you said. “Asked to hear you play.” 

He shook his head and quirked is jaw but sat on the top porch step anyway. You sat on the bottom one, back against the railing, and looked up at him. 

“Remember you asked for this,” he said, arranging the guitar on his legs. 

He’d downplayed it so much that you were almost expecting it to be bad or, at best, mediocre. But Joel was… good. Really good. 

It took you a moment to recognize the song. It had been a while since you’d heard Springsteen and Joel’s version of I’m On Fire was slower and gentler than the original. But you liked it that way, you realized. 

Joel’s version felt a little less insistent, less verging on being out of control and more like quiet longing, the ache of wanting something you couldn’t quite reach but you wanted it so bad you had to at least try. It made your chest tighten and your stomach knot to hear it, made you start to feel warm enough that you were fidgeting in the coat. There was a pull in you to want to be a part of anything to do with him, be alongside him, make something with him. You wanted to fall into him and get comfortably lost there, going along with everything that made Joel who he was, no matter where that took you.

You were silent until the last of the notes had faded and Joel sat there, looking down at the guitar in his hands, the uncertainty pouring off him in waves. 

“Well, that’s…” he began but you cut him off. 

“You’re amazing.” 

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours as he frowned slightly. 

“You are,” you said quickly. “I like your version better than Springsteen’s. No one tell the Boss that, though.” 

He smiled a little, just enough that you could see the dimple on his cheek and you smiled back. 

You were more comfortable being closer to the house after that day. You spent a few days playing on the bottom step, then moved to the top. Now, you always sat in the corner of the porch, your back protected by touching Joel’s home. You liked it there. 

The comfort had made it easier to relax while playing, too. Now, you were back where you were before the outbreak, playing whatever song you could hear in your head without much trouble, experimenting with the different ways you could pull sound out of the instrument and how you could weave it together into a melody. That’s what you’d been doing when Tommy came up - what you did most of the time that you were at Joel’s now - toying with things in a way that was melodic but not really a song, just whatever music you felt like making in the moment. 

“What brings you by?” Joel asked, opening the screen door. 

“Need to talk to the two of you, actually,” he said. “This saves me a stop. Want to come inside, Bambi?” 

Before you had a chance to reply, Joel spoke for you. 

“She doesn’t like bein’ inside,” he said, stepping outside and going to stand near you. You got up and perched on the porch railing near him, close enough that your knee brushed his side, still holding the guitar. “We can talk on the porch if it’s all the same to you.” 

“We’re workin’ Bambi into the patrol rotation,” he said. You nodded, frowning. This wasn’t a surprise. It had been more than a week since you’d finished your training. That didn’t warrant a visit from Tommy. “And we discussed it and we think it’s best if you two stick on patrol together instead of sending her out with someone new….” 

“I can handle myself,” you protested. You could feel Joel’s eyes on you. “I don’t need Joel to baby sit me, I can patrol with anyone…” 

“Never said you couldn’t,” Tommy said gently. “But we got another new person comin’ in and I’m gonna go out with him at first for a while. You two work well together, watch each other’s backs well. And… Well, Bambi, not to put too fine a point on it but… You’re not comfortable with most people. Seem comfortable enough with me n’Joel, no reason to make you uncomfortable in a situation that’s already dangerous enough.” 

You felt your face get hot as you looked at the ground, not able to face Tommy. You didn’t like that people made you uncomfortable and you tried to hide it. Apparently you didn’t do that good a job. 

“First patrol is in two days,” he said. “We’re gonna get Olivia to run the stables that day, it’ll just be a day long shift, no overnight. Sound good?” 

“I’m good with that,” Joel said. His eyes were still on you. 

“Works for me,” you said, looking up toward Tommy again. 

“Good,” he smiled a little and gave a single nod. “Then I’m gonna get home before my wife bites my head off.” 

He turned to go but turned around, a cocky smile on his face. 

“Hey Bambi?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can you play Freebird?” 

You glared at him for a second, arranging the guitar on your lap again, planting a foot solidly against a spindle of the porch railing so you wouldn’t fall. 

“I’m just kid…” He began but you cut him off with the first notes of the solo from Freebird. 

You had to watch your fingers to play it and not think too hard about it, just let your hands and mind go. If you focused too hard, you’d fuck it up. But you played the whole damn thing, the whole four minutes and 24 seconds of it - a little faster because you always rushed it. You were a breathless when you were done and looked up at Tommy who was staring at you, open mouthed. 

“Don’t know why men always want to hear fuckin’ Freebird,” you rolled your eyes. “Allen Collins is great, don’t get me wrong, but I mean Joan Jett is right there. And no one ever asks for All Along the Watchtower which, Hendrix? I mean come on. Y’all are such simple fuckin’ creatures…” 

“Jesus, Bambi,” he said, almost reverently. “Where the hell’d you learn that?” 

“My bedroom when I was a teenager because I figured out men don’t take girls who play seriously unless we can play shit like that,” you replied. “Lemme know when your taste develops and you wanna hear some Heart.” 

“Well I’m gonna get outta here before I make an even bigger fool of myself,” Tommy smiled again, clapping Joel on the shoulder. “Good luck patrolling with that one.” 

“I’ll do better than you,” Joel called after him and you laughed a little, shaking your head, before going back to toying with the guitar. You only played for a minute though. Joel didn’t go back inside. Instead he just leaned against a post, watching you silently. You stopped playing. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Do you not want to patrol with me?” He asked. It wasn’t accusing or even hurt. His face was soft and open, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. 

You frowned. 

“Why d’you think that?” 

“Seemed like you didn’t want to be paired with me,” he shrugged. “It’s OK if you don’t, we…” 

“I do,” you said quickly. “I want to patrol with you.” 

He frowned a little, like he was doubting you. 

“I do,” you said again. 

Because you did. You’d found yourself wanting to do things with Joel - everything, really - since you’d started patrolling with him the first time. He made you more relaxed than anyone else did, even Ellie. You started standing outside the mess hall and waiting for him to get there before going inside to eat. He’d started beating you there and waiting for you instead. You liked when you heard the soft thud of him opening a window when you played guitar and he tried to listen without disturbing you. You liked that, when he got back from patrol and it was the end of the day, Joel would help you get the horses settled and walk with you to his place to play guitar. 

You’d been spending so much time with Joel, people had started to notice. Or, at least, Ellie had. 

“What the fuck, Bambi?” She demanded the morning after your last patrol with Joel. You winced, her voice loud, your head pounding after drinking too much at the Tipsy Bison the night before. 

“Good morning, Ellie,” you said, hauling a bucket of feed to the next stall. “I’m doing fine, thank you for asking…” 

“Oh fuck off,” she stomped up next to you, her eyes narrowed. “Are you fucking Joel?” 

“What?” You almost dropped the bucket into the stall. 

“You heard me.” 

“Yeah, volume isn’t the issue here, kid,” you set the bucket down next to your feet before you took a deep breath and crossed your arms over your chest. “What do you mean am I fucking Joel?” 

“I mean,” she snapped. “Everyone saw you fucking dancing with the guy last night. I know you’re over at his house all the time - I live out back in case you fucking forgot. Are you fucking him?” 

“Who is and isn’t between my legs is none of your damn business…” 

“It is if it’s Joel,” she cut you off. “I said he could use a friend, not…” 

“I’m not fucking anybody,” you said. “But if I were it wouldn’t be your business, regardless of who it was.” 

“Joel’s different.” 

“And you still won’t tell me what your issue with him is,” you said, picking up the bucket again. “Doesn’t seem fair that I should need to ask your permission to fuck the man if you won’t even tell me why I shouldn’t.” 

“So you do want to,” she said. 

“Ellie,” you sighed. “Want to tell me what your actual problem is? Because something tells me it doesn’t have shit to do with whether or not I’m sleeping with anyone.” 

She clenched her teeth for a moment and glared at you even harder before she sighed. 

“You were my friend first,” she said. “And if you start doing… that,” she gestured to your torso and you tried not to laugh. “You’re going to be his… whatever the fuck you’d be. Be friends with him, fine, whatever, but I really don’t want you to ditch me because I’m not speaking to him and you’re fucking him.” 

“Ellie,” you smiled a little. “First of all, I’m not anybody’s anything. That’s wouldn’t change even if I were fucking someone. Second of all, you really don’t need to worry about me fucking Joel or anybody else. Not only is it not your business but it’s not… I’m not… It just isn’t gonna happen, OK? So don’t get worked up over shit that isn’t happening and isn’t your concern.”

She relaxed a little but looked like she didn’t entirely believe you. 

“Need me to bring a horse out to the paddock for you to work on drawing?” You asked, brows raised.

“Maybe.” 

She didn’t look too happy about that fact. You smiled a little. 

“C’mon kid,” you said, going to get Shimmer. “We’ll get you all set up.” 

You were glad she hadn’t pushed you too hard about Joel or any of the rest of it. You didn’t want to tell her why fucking anyone felt totally out of the question. Or how you wished that weren’t the case because at least that would explain part of the strange draw you had to Joel, this growing longing to be close to him, one that was outweighing your fears. 

“Bambi,” Joel said gently. “It’s OK…” 

“Will you stop acting like you’re some leper I don’t want to see?” You looked at him, incredulous. “I just… I don’t want the fact that I’m… antisocial to make problems for people, alright? I want to patrol with you. You’re about the only fucking person I’d want to patrol with. But I can do it with other people. It’s my shit to deal with, not Tommy’s, not yours, not the people who figure out patrol rotations, mine. I’m tired of being a fucking burden all the goddamn time…” 

“You’re not a burden,” he said. You raised your eyebrows at him. “You’re not. Everyone’s got their shit now. It’s the end of the world, that’s how it goes. We work around it. You’re not a burden.” 

You nodded slowly, running your fingers over the fretboard of the guitar. 

“If you don’t want to patrol with me, I’d understand,” you said, forcing yourself to look at him. “You can…” 

“I want to patrol with you, Bambi,” he cut you off. “Meant what I said before. I like bein’ the one to look out for you.”

“OK,” you said, giving him a single, definitive nod. 

He smiled a little. 

“OK.” 

Joel walked you home that night after you went to the mess hall for dinner but asked to stop by his place first to grab something. He came out with something wrapped in paper tucked below his arm but didn’t say anything about it until you were at your front porch. Joel always came to your front door now, always waiting for you to get safely inside and turn off the light before going to his own house again. 

“This…” He held out the package, awkwardly cupping the back of his neck, not looking at you. “Thought you might like this.” 

You frowned and took it, untying the string around the paper. Inside was a long sleeved shirt, light weight and far too big for you. You looked at him for a second, confused. 

“Well, you said the thing you liked about the coat was the smell,” it was like he was trying to look at anything but you, too uncomfortable to meet your eyes. “And… well, it was my coat and I think that means it smelled like me which, you know… That makes sense, seein’ as I was the one who brought you here, you were passed out on me for a few hours and smell is supposedly tied to memory… anyway… It’s too hot for the coat now, you’re gonna get yourself hurt tryin’ to do everything you need to do in that heavy thing and that shirt is a lot cooler and I wore it for a while.” You looked down at it, running your thumbs over the fabric for a moment before bringing it to your nose and breathing deep. It smelled warm and safe. It smelled like Joel. You smiled a little. “Only wore it when I was clean and shit, wasn’t out doin’ anything crazy…” 

You looked up at him for a second before you slowly, cautiously pressed yourself against him. Joel froze for a second and you just stood there, your face in his chest, your arms clutched to your torso, the shirt still in your hands. You closed your eyes and breathed him in for moment, calming and centering yourself on him. He gently put his arms around you, holding you to him. You could hear his heartbeat, feel his breathing, absorb his warmth. He rested his chin on the top of your head. 

“Thank you,” you said softly. 

“Course,” he said quietly. “Wasn’t… Wasn’t weird?” 

“No,” you laughed a little into his chest. “At least, not to me.” 

When you went inside that night, you raced around to your back windows and watched what you could see of the street behind your house, the shirt held to your chest, following his darkened silhouette with your eyes as he walked home. 

You found yourself looking forward to patrolling with Joel. It would be nice to see him without other realities of life in the way. Just infected and the looming threat of raiders. That was easier to navigate than a pissed off teenager. But you were nervous, too. Less about the patrol itself - you’d done almost the exact same patrol with Joel and Tommy for weeks and almost nothing happened - and more about being alone with Joel for that long. 

It wasn’t safety you were worried about anymore - even though the knot in your stomach wasn’t about to let you into Joel’s house anytime too soon - but more the kind of company you were now. You hadn’t been alone like this with someone in so long. What if the person who made you feel the closest you came to OK didn’t want to spend time with you anymore after going out there with you? You wouldn’t blame him, you were barely functional in society as it was. But you didn’t want to lose him, either. 

You hardly slept the night before you left for your first patrol alone with Joel and when you did sleep, you dreamed. 

You were in a snow covered forest, the trees stretching out for miles in neat little rows, the ground white. You didn’t leave footprints and neither did the little girl beside you even though you could hear the crunch of snow under both your feet. There were shadows in the distance, shadows shaped like men but they were too far away to recognize. But you could feel that they were a threat, that they wanted to close in, that they wanted to rip and tear and take.

“I don’t want to do this.” 

The little girl looked up at you with wide, doe-like eyes, her hair clipped back from her face, a gun that was far too big for her in her small hands. 

“I know,” you said quietly. “But we have to.” 

“Why?” 

“Because,” you nodded to the shadows on the horizon. “There are things in this world that want to hurt you and you need to know how to hurt them first.” 

“But you’re here,” she said. She was so young, so small. You brushed her hair back. 

“You still need to know how,” you said. “I will do everything I can to protect you but I might fail. You need to know how to destroy them before they destroy you because they will. They will destroy every part of you they can touch if they have the chance. Don’t give them the chance.” 

Her small mouth formed a grim line but she lined up the shot anyway. 

“Does it hurt?” She asked, looking up at you. 

You reached down at cupped her cheek.

“Yes,” you said quietly. “Yes, it does.” 

You didn’t remember the dream when you woke up. You only felt the hollow ache of loss as you got ready to meet Joel at the stables. 

*** 

You were wearing the shirt. 

It was the first thing Joel noticed when he saw you at the stables, your forehead pressed to Renaissance’s own, your eyes closed. 

He cleared his throat and you jumped a bit, away from the horse, your body tense for a moment before you saw it was just him and you smiled a little. 

“Hey,” you said. 

“Hey.” 

You were wearing the shirt. His shirt. He hadn’t been wrong, he was the thing you liked about the coat. 

His heart beat a little faster.

Joel felt like he was in some kind of delicate dance with you. He had since the night at the Tipsy Bison, when you’d touched him without flinching away. Instead, you’d melted into him, all soft warmth and gentle breaths as you moved together. It was a wonder you didn’t ask him what the fuck his problem was, the way his heart was racing in his chest as your head rested against him as the two of you swayed on the dance floor. He’d been touching you, holding you, feeling you. 

It was somehow more than he’d expected it to be. 

Joel wasn’t stupid. He had feelings for you, there was no point in denying it. If he was at all honest with himself, even for a second, he’d had feelings for you from the day he met you. Even half dead, there was something in you that he was reaching for. It had just grown in the months he’d known you, watched you with the horses and with Ellie and even his nephew, William. Grown as he’d listened to you relearn the guitar, playing until he had to clean blood off the instrument before putting it away at night. Grown as he watched you grit your teeth and face deeply held fears, trying so hard to fold yourself back into humanity you were willing to tear yourself apart to do it. It had grown so much that, when you moved closer to him in the dim light, he was overwhelmed by it. Like everything else fell away and it was just you and him and the slow, haunting music. 

If you’d been any other woman, he would have taken your face in his hand and tilted your lips toward his own and kissed you that night and fuck, did he want to kiss you. He wanted to feel the soft give of your mouth against his, wanted to taste you, wanted to breathe the same air as you. 

But he couldn’t do that with you. You were so delicate in this way. He could trust you to claw a man’s face off but couldn’t trust what you might do if he were to touch you the way he so desperately wanted to. And nothing - not even feeling you the way he longed to - was worth the risk of hurting you. 

He went home that night and made himself come so hard in the shower he almost collapsed with it, thinking about nothing but the way your body felt cradled against his own as you moved with him on the dance floor. 

That night had tipped something in him over the edge. He had to fight to stay away from you, make a conscious effort to not seek you out at every opportunity. All he wanted was to be beside you and, when he wasn’t, he wanted to know that you were OK, wanted to know what you were doing, wanted to know what you feeling. He wanted to take care of you in whatever way he could and the shirt was something he could do for you. 

Joel just felt like a bit of a jackass doing it, though. 

“Fuckin’ idiot,” he’d muttered to himself as he put the shirt on after he was freshly showered and getting into bed one night. Because he felt like a fucking idiot, assuming that the smell you mentioned had fuck all to do with him. How self absorbed could he possibly be? 

But he wore the shirt, anyway. If he was right - if the smell you felt safe with was him - then he should help you. It was worth the risk of looking like a goddamn moron if there was even a chance that it could make your life a little easier. He slept in the shirt for a few nights before he wrapped it in paper. It glared at him from the top of his dresser for two days before he was sitting at the mess hall with you and you made some smart ass remark and he caught a glimpse of you, laughing, relaxed and happy. If he could do anything to make the world feel safer, make that version of you closer to the surface, he would. 

And you were wearing the shirt. 

“Ready to endure a day of patrol with just me?” You asked, smiling a little. 

“Better than a day with just Tommy,” he smiled back, going to saddle up his horse. 

The patrols all left at the same time and Joel took the lead with yours, following a trail that he’d come to know well through the years. It was the same patrol he’d been on with Tommy when he’d found you months before. 

He wasn’t going to mention that part. 

“Where’d you find your guitar?” You asked after the two of you had been riding for a while. 

“There’s a city, few hours ride away,” he said. “Found it there. Why?” 

“No reason,” you shrugged. “Just… wondered if I might be able to find one of my own. Figured you were probably tired of me comin’ around all the time.” 

“Not tired of it,” he smiled a little. “Come by as often as you want. I… I like it when you come by.” 

“Also thought it would be nice to play with you sometime,” you said, not looking at him, your voice strained. “Not sayin’ we should start a fuckin’ band or anything but… You’re good. I’d like to play with you.” 

He smiled wider. 

“I’d like that, too,” he said. 

The two of you were getting close to where Joel had first found you when you frowned, your eyes narrowed at a spot on the trail. Joel’s chest got tight. Did you remember more than either of you realized? Did you recognize something? 

“See that?” You asked, nodding at a branch low on the tree. 

Joel frowned. 

“No.” 

You rolled your eyes and guided your horse to it. You pointed out a splotch of mud on the branch as well as some on the side of the trunk at about knee height. 

“Someone climbed this tree,” you said, touching the mud spot on the branch. “It’s dry, been a few days at least but someone climbed this tree. There are people out here.” 

“Alright,” Joel nodded slowly. “Lead the way, let’s see what we can find.” 

You found a few other signs of people - all at least a few days old - as the two of you worked your way further off the usual path. There were some cabins marked on the map close by and Joel wasn’t particularly surprised when the trail led to them. 

You dismounted before he had a chance to say anything, your sidearm held low in your hands as you went up to the first door. Joel jumped off his horse before it fully stopped moving, barely reaching you before you threw the first door open. 

The one room cabin was empty, just some old sheets and towels on the floor, the air damp with mildew. 

“Bambi,” Joel said, voice low. “We should…” 

“Just gonna check,” you replied, looking through the room quickly, yanking up blankets to check below them for something. You made a frustrated sound. 

“What are we lookin’ for?” He asked, looking at the hearth in the corner of the cabin. The ash in it was cold, at least a few days old. 

“Any sign of there being women or girls here,” you said, lifting the mattress on the floor with your toe. “And any sign of where they might have gone.” 

Joel didn’t say anything. He just let you take the lead, knowing you were going to be disappointed. This was a raider camp. It wasn’t like they were going to have left a roadmap to where they were headed next, it wasn’t like there was going to be shit like hair brushes lying around to prove there were women with them. 

You went to the next cabin and found more of the same. The largest cabin had more beds but the same disarray. Finally, there was one cabin that you seemed to latch on to. 

At first it seemed like the others but you spotted something against the wall quickly. You went to it, kneeling slowly before you picked it up. It was a chain, bolted to the wall. Joel’s stomach turned as you ran your fingers over it to the cuff on the end. You pulled out your flashlight and shined it on the metal, delicately tracing the inside of it before you pulled your hand away. 

“It’s dried but there’s blood,” you said, straightening up and shining the light at the ground before you found a stain on the floorboards. You knelt again, running your fingers through the dirt and blood there, examining it. You sighed and hung your head. “Doesn’t matter, looks like they killed her anyway.” 

You turned off the flashlight and stuck it back in your bag before brushing past Joel and stalking outside. He followed. You’d stopped next to the fire pit, staring down into the pile of ash, the thumb of your right hand absently tracing the inside of your left wrist. 

“Bambi,” he said gently, but you cut him off. 

“How often do patrols come out this way?” You asked. “And do they ever make it this far?” 

“They come out on the route we’re on every other week,” he said. “But don’t make it all the way out here except every few months, just to check in.” 

You nodded slowly. 

“They were probably watching for people like us then,” you said. “If they knew the pattern, they took off days ago.” 

“I don’t think we can follow them, Sweetheart,” he said gently. 

You nodded. 

“I know,” you said softly. “Don’t think there’s a reason to right now, anyway.” 

“Bambi…” 

“Let’s go,” you said, not looking at him as you stalked over to Renaissance. 

“If you want…” 

“I just want to get the fuck away from here,” you snapped. “So can we please move on?” 

Your eyes met his for the first time since you’d found the cabins and the barbed wire was back but it was wrapped around so much pain it hurt to look at you. 

“Course,” he said. “Let’s get back.” 

The first few hours of the trip back were quiet until you slowed on the trail and waited for Joel to come alongside you. 

“Can you do me a favor and not say anything about that?” You asked. “At least, leave me out of it as much as you can? Folks here should protect themselves of course but…” 

“Not going to say anything,” he said, watching you. The barbed wire was gone now. Instead, it was just hurt, an aching, screaming pain behind your eyes. He wondered, for a moment, if that’s what he looked like in the time after he’d lost Sarah. If that’s what Tommy had looked at for weeks if not months. 

You nodded. 

“Thank you.” 

About an hour out from Jackson, Joel started humming. You glanced over at him when he did but he pretended not to notice. It was The Chain, the first song he’d ever heard you sing. He was trying to remember the pacing you used, trying to match it. When he finished it, he just started it up again.

“Listen to the wind blow…” Your voice was quiet, almost hesitant, but you sang it all the same. Joel kept humming. 

By the time the two of you were back to Jackson, you seemed a bit more like yourself. You leaned forward on Renaissance and scratched her neck, draping yourself over her mane. 

“Thanks for that,” you said, opening your eyes and looking at Joel, your cheek still pressed against the horse’s neck. “I needed it.” 

“Course,” he said. 

Joel was exhausted, the diversion to the cabins adding a few hours to an already long day, and he was ready to write a brief report about what the two of you saw on patrol and get a hot meal when the gates opened as they rode up to town. But Ellie came running out to meet you, her eyes wide and afraid. 

“Thank fuck you’re OK!” She looked back and forth between the two of you. Joel looked at you and you gave him a small shrug before you both dismounted. 

She threw herself at Joel first, her small body hitting him with so much force that it shocked him. He hesitantly put his arms around her and held her close, her arms tight around his neck. 

“I was so fucking scared,” she said, her voice wet. 

“What happened Baby Girl?” He frowned. Patrols ran a bit long all the time, it wouldn’t cause her to freak out, not like this. Not when she’d so much as glanced his way in months.

“Other patrols got attacked,” she pulled away from him before going to you, giving you a big but shorter hug. You gave her a squeeze back. 

“By what?” Joel asked. “Is everyone OK?” 

“Raiders,” she said, stepping back and looking between the two of you, a frantic look in her eyes. “The people all made it back alive. Looks like Jody might lose her arm but she got the worst of it…” 

“Fuck,” Joel swore, shaking his head. 

“Ellie,” you said. “Do me a favor, grab Joel’s horse and come with me back to the stables so Joel can go handle that?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded, squaring her jaw. “Yeah, I can do that.” 

You gave Joel a single nod and he watched the two of you head for the stables for a moment before he went to find Tommy. 

There wasn’t much he could do, however. The council was already meeting and Tommy filled him in on the worst of it as he nursed a knife wound on his leg. 

Half the patrols that had gone out that day had been overrun, one large group of raiders catching them at a crossover point on their routes. The raiders had either been extremely lucky or they’d been watching their patrols and knew where they’d be when. 

They’d managed to kill a few raiders and no humans from Jackson had died before fighting off the others. But a total of five horses had been lost in the attack, including Samson. 

“Shit,” Joel said, looking toward the stables, where he knew you would be. 

“I’ll let you know what else happens,” Tommy said gently, jerking his head toward the door. “Get outta here.” 

Joel looked at him for a moment before pulling him into a tight hug, clapping him on the back as he did. 

“Glad you’re OK,” Joel said, his voice thick. 

“You too, man,” Tommy said. “Go take care of your girl.” 

“She’s not…” 

“I said what I said,” Tommy cut him off. “Get your head outta your ass, man.” 

Joel just shook his head and took off for the stables, looking for you. 

He found you there, curled up on the floor, your arms wrapped tight around yourself, your knees against your chest. You were sobbing, your whole body shaking with it. The sight made Joel’s heart ache.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Joel said quietly, approaching you slowly,. 

“G-g-go away,” you managed. “Don’t w-w-w-want your pity.” 

He ignored you, getting down on the floor next to you. 

“It OK if I touch you?” He asked softly. You nodded through a wracking sob. He lay down behind you and put an arm around you. He delicately, slowly, pulled you back against him, putting his other arm below your head so you weren’t just lying on the cold concrete. You pressed yourself back into him and he buried is face in your hair. “I’m so sorry…” 

“N-n-never lost this many at once,” you choked out. “And S-s-s-s-samson wouldn’t have been out at all if it wasn’t for me, it was my fault…” 

“Wasn’t your fault,” he kept his voice calm and even. “If it wasn’t him, it would have been another horse. Not your fault, Sweetheart. Promise you, it’s not.” 

“It’s probably dumb for m-me to be so upset about the horses,” you sounded like you could at least breathe now. “When there were p-p-people who…” 

“Not dumb,” Joel said gently. “The people will live and you worked with these horses every day. Course you’re upset, Sweetheart.” 

“What are we gonna do?” You asked, taking a shaky breath. “Jackson, without the horses, we need them to patrol, what…” 

“We’ll figure it out tomorrow,” he said quietly. “Right now, you just breathe. You had a long, awful day. You need to breathe.” 

Joel brought the hand that was below you to your forehead, brushing your hair back. Your head dropped back against him, your whole body pressed to his. He just held you like that, feeling your breathing calm and your sobs slow.

“Can I stay here?” You asked quietly. “Don’t wanna go home, just wanna be here…” 

“Course you can,” he said gently, his hand finding a gentle rhythm on your hair. “Want me to stay with you?” 

“Would you?” You asked, voice shaky again. “Because I… I just… Just want you to hold me…” 

“Course I’ll stay,” he said quietly, his hold on you tightening. “I’ll do whatever you want, Sweetheart. Whatever you want.” 

Next Chapter

A/N: GUYS

THEY LIKE... FULLY HUGGED AND CUDDLED IN THIS ONE.

This is probably the slowest burn slow burn I've done and I can tell because I get SO EXCITED when they like... barely touch lmfao. I hope you're enjoying it, too.

I'm still doing the tag list thing and I promise I will start up an updates blog soon. I just have not had the time this week! If you want to be added to the tag list and see what the Tumblr Gods will allow, comment below.

Thank you so much for being here and for spending your time with these characters! I so appreciate it, it makes sharing this story so worthwhile. Love you all so much!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #slow burn #yearling

[lexie-squirrel]

Sherlock Holmes is autistic

- “...he had contrived, with that cat-like love of personal cleanliness which was one of his characteristics”. (HOUN) -  “I have [...] an abnormally acute set of senses” (BLAN) - “My friend, who loved above all things precision and concentration of thought, resented anything which distracted his attention from the matter in hand” (SOLI) - “I was never a very sociable fellow, Watson, always rather fond of moping in my rooms and working out my own little methods of thought, so that I never mixed much with the men of my year" (GLOR) -  “Who could come tonight? Some friend of yours, perhaps?” “Except yourself I have none, - he answered. - I do not encourage visitors” (FIVE) - “...his disinclination to form new friendships...” (GREE) - “Without having a tinge of cruelty in his singular composition, he was undoubtedly callous from long over-stimulation. There was no trace then of the horror which I had myself felt at this curt declaration, but his face showed rather the quiet and interested composure of the chemist who sees the crystals falling into position from his over-saturated solution” (VALL) Low empathy - “He was a man of habits, narrow and concentrated habits“ (CREE) - “He had a horror of destroying documents, especially those which were connected with his past cases [...] Thus month after month his papers accumulated, until every corner of the room was stacked with bundles of manuscript which were on no account to be burned, and which could not be put away save by their owner” (MUSG) - “He appears to have a passion for definite and exact knowledge “(STUD) - “...never have I wondered at it more than upon that spring morning in Cornwall when for two hours he discoursed upon celts, arrowheads, and shards” (DEVI) special interest/infodumping - “'My dear doctor,' said he, kindly, 'pray accept my apologies. Viewing the matter as an abstract problem, I had forgotten how personal and painful a thing it might be to you. I assure you, however, that I never even knew that you had a brother until you handed me the watch” (SIGN) low empathy - “Arrest you!' said Holmes. 'This is really most grati - most interesting. On what charge do you expect to be arrested?” (NORD) low empathy -  “We were residing at the time in furnished lodgings close to a library where Sherlock Holmes was pursuing some laborious researches in early English charters” (3STUD) special interest - “My friend's temper had not improved since he had been deprived of the congenial surroundings of Baker Street. Without his scrap-books, his chemicals, and his homely untidiness, he was an uncomfortable man” (3STUD)  - “Holmes could talk exceedingly well when he chose, and that night he did choose. He appeared to be in a state of nervous exaltation. I have never known him so brilliant. He spoke on a quick succession of subjects - on miracle plays, on mediæval pottery, on Stradivarius violins, on the Buddhism of Ceylon, and on the warships of the future - handling each as though he had made a special study of it” (SIGN) special interest/infodumping - “His studies are very desultory and eccentric, but he has amassed a lot of out-of-the-way knowledge which would astonish his professors” (STUD) - “He is not a man that it is easy to draw out, though he can be communicative enough when the fancy seizes him” (STUD) - 'Holmes is a little too scientific for my tastes - it approaches to cold-bloodedness. I could imagine his giving a friend a little pinch of the latest vegetable alkaloid, not out of malevolence, you understand, but simply out of a spirit of inquiry in order to have an accurate idea of the effects” (STUD) low empathy - “He appears to have a passion for definite and exact knowledge” (STUD) - “He seized me by the coat-sleeve in his eagerness, and drew me over to the table at which he had been working” (STUD) personal space problems - “With an apology for my intrusion, I was about to withdraw, when Holmes pulled me abruptly into the room, and closed the door behind me” (REDH)  personal space problems - “...his long, nervous fingers tapping upon the arms of his chair...” (DISA) stimming - “He paced restlessly about our sitting-room in a fever of suppressed energy, biting his nails, tapping the furniture” (BRUC) stimming - “He began biting his nails and staring blankly out of the window” (STOC) stimming - “Yes, I have been guilty of several monographs. They are all upon technical subjects. Here, for example, is one "Upon the Distinction Between the Ashes of the Various Tobaccos." In it I enumerate a hundred and forty forms of cigar, cigarette, and pipe tobacco, with coloured plates illustrating the difference in the ash” (SIGN) special interest - “'Well, he's that strange, sir. After you was gone he walked and he walked, up and down, and up and down, until I was weary of the sound of his footstep” [...]  “I was myself somewhat uneasy when through the long night I still from time to time heard the dull sound of his tread...” (SIGN) stimming - “...in his nervous restlessness, he could not sit still, but paced the carriage or drummed with his long, sensitive fingers upon the cushions beside him” (THOR) stimming - “He appears to know every detail of every horror perpetrated in the century” (STUD) special interest - “When left to himself, however, he would seldom produce any music or attempt any recognized air. Leaning back in his arm-chair of an evening, he would close his eyes and scrape carelessly at the fiddle which was thrown across his knee” (STUD) stimming? - “But this is my special hobby, and the differences are equally obvious. There is as much difference to my eyes between the leaded bourgeois type of a Times article and the slovenly print of an evening halfpenny paper as there could be between your Negro and your Esquimaux” (HOUN) special interest - “'You are hungry”, I remarked. “Starving. It had escaped my memory. I have had nothing since breakfast”.''Nothing?'' “Not a bite. I had no time to think of it” (FIVE) eating problems - “...for days on end he would lie upon the sofa in the sitting-room, hardly uttering a word or moving a muscle from morning to night” (STUD) a shutdown? - “My friend had no breakfast himself, for it was one of his peculiarities that in his more intense moments he would permit himself no food, and I have known him presume upon his iron strength until he has fainted from pure inanition” (NORW) eating problems - “But how do you know that it is hereditary?” ''Because my brother Mycroft possesses it in a larger degree than I do” [...] “He has an extraordinary faculty for figures, and audits the books in some of the Government departments“. [...] . There are many men in London, you know, who, some from shyness, some from misanthropy, have no wish for the company of their fellows. [...] My brother was one of the founders, and I have myself found it a very soothing atmosphere”. [GREE] autism run in families - “We had a pleasant little meal together, during which Holmes would talk about nothing but violins” (CARD) special interest/infodumping - “For two hours the strange business in which we had been involved appeared to be forgotten, and he was entirely absorbed in the pictures of the modern Belgian masters. He would talk of nothing but art, of which he had the crudest ideas” (HOUN) special interest/infodumping - “I remember that during the whole of that memorable day he lost himself in a monograph which he had undertaken upon the Polyphonic Motets of Lassus” [...] “As to Holmes, he returned refreshed to his monograph upon the Polyphonic Motets of Lassus, which has since been printed for private circulation, and is said by experts to be the last word upon the subject” (BRUC) special interest - “Kindly look her up in my index, Doctor,' murmured Holmes, without opening his eyes. For many years he had adopted a system of docketing all paragraphs concerning men and things, so that it was difficult to name a subject or a person on which he could not at once furnish information” (SCAN) - “Sherlock Holmes sat moodily at one side of the fireplace cross-indexing his records of crime” (FIVE) - “The first day Holmes had spent in cross-indexing his huge book of references. The second and third had been patiently occupied upon a subject which he had recently made his hobby - the music of the Middle Ages” (BRUC) special interest - “An anomaly which often struck me in the character of my friend Sherlock Holmes was that, although in his methods of thought he was the neatest and most methodical of mankind, and although also he affected a certain quiet primness of dress, he was none the less in his personal habits one of the most untidy men that ever drove a fellow-lodger to distraction” (MUSG) - “Sherlock Holmes was a man, however, who when he had an unsolved problem upon his mind would go for days, and even for a week, without rest” (TWIS) sleep problems - “The mere sight of his excellent appetite was an assurance of success, for I had very clear recollections of days and nights without a thought of food” (VALL) eating problems - “You are knocking yourself up, old man,' I remarked. 'I heard you marching about in the night”. ''No, I could not sleep”, he answered” (SIGN) sleeping problems - “I do not know how far Sherlock Holmes took any sleep that night, but when I came down to breakfast I found him pale and harassed, his bright eyes the brighter for the dark shadows round them” (NORW) sleep problems

#шерлокиана #Sherlock Holmes #Autistic Sherlock Holmes #ACD Holmes

[keiwook]

ZB1 ON THEIR FIRST DATE

pairing zb1 x gn!reader

genre fluff, comedy

notes hellloooo, i’m back with an update 💥 thank you for requesting anon ! i hope you enjoy 💗

masterlist<3

— zhang hao

he looks calm

you’d assume everything is fine but in reality: everything is in-fact not fine

he may be really hecking smart, can play the violin flawlessly, can sing and dance, and also look too good to be true

but on the inside, he’s a hot mess 💥

he’d forget your name because he’s really nervous

that’s already bad, right?

well, he proceeds to ASK you what your name is even if you’ve been a friend of his since like forever

he might spill something

laughs too loudly at your joke and makes everyone stare at you two 😃

“i’m so sorry that people are staring at me, i guess i’m too good-looking. don’t worry, i only have eyes for you.”

— sung hanbin

has it all planned out

he stayed up weeks prior to make this perfect

if it doesn’t go the way he expected to be; he might cry 🥲

of course some oopsies happened and he almost gets a heart attack but it’s okay

like when yujin accidentally stole the outfit he prepared for the date and he had to wear something else

he makes sure that jiwoong and hao are incharge because they are older

but actually, he made gunwook incharge 🫡

cuz he thinks gunwook is more responsible and he doesn’t trust the older two enough to take care of the team

the date goes perfectly as expected but now hanbin is dreading to what he’s gonna come home to

“well, i have to go now! my kids are gonna burn down the dorms if i’m not there before curfew.”

— seok matthew

i think he’s pretty confident

maybe a little nervous at first but eventually warms up and gets too cozy

“hi, i’m your woohyun-oppa.” he introduces himself as he lends out his hand to shake yours 👋

might’ve told you that he’s 6ft but like atleast he didn’t catfish you !!

the date goes pretty well until he starts bringing up his ‘story’

he’s a pretty straightforward guy so…

you gotta be careful cause he will start asking the most unhinged questions ever 😦

“i like your glasses, what material are they?” “..what?” “you don’t know what material they are??”

— shen ricky

he has a reputation and a dignity to keep

so he rented out the most expensive restaurant in town just for you two 🤩

it was literally just you two and 7 different waiters

he intimidated you for the first half of the date but then you find out he loves strawberries and his nickname is ‘lovelicky’ and you start to question if he’s being fr

awkwardly flirty

like he winks here and there and then proceeds to get so shy afterwards 🤭

he looks so classy and chic but he really is just squishy inside

after a while, he finally breaks his chic character

“do you perhaps wanna get ice cream after this?”

— park gunwook

he’s shy but he won’t show it at all

so so so so so so so polite ‼️

pulls out the chair for you, gets you flowers; gentleman frfr

if you compliment him, it’s over.

“you look more handsome than usual..” oh, he’s gone..

starts stuttering ALOT, it’s like you just knocked over all his confidence

literally cannot look at you anymore

he be looking everywhere except you

“oh, yeah! my day was really good!” he replies and his eyes are going ⬆️⬇️➡️⬅️↙️↖️↗️

— kim taerae

though i think taerae is super sweet and lovey dovey

he rolls up to the picnic date with his bright red sweatpants

…and his guitar… 🎸

“let me sing you a song.” he says for the nth time already and all you can do is listen along

gets super into the song and gets sentimental

might cry at the end of the song, who knows?

he suddenly turns the whole date to a busking performance

“this one’s for you!” as he sings man in love for the 5th time now while staring into your eyes intensely 🤗

“now all these people know my love for you.”

— kim gyuvin

he’s super shy super shy-

i’m not kidding though, he really is super shy.. 😦

tries to pop a joke here and there but you don’t laugh cause he sounds so serious

awkward 90% of the time

“so, do you have a pet? oh, you have a cat? i have an eumppappa!”

once he gets to talk abt eumppappa, there’s no stopping him

he tells you the life story of eumppappa, the hardships, the accomplishments and the failures 🥲

when he arrives back to the dorms and the members ask how the date went he’d reply with

“they said eumppappa was ugly so i told them that they are even ug-”

— kim jiwoong

mentally, he’s nervous but he doesn’t show it at all

he’s staring at you with those eyes iykwim 👀

he stares at you sm that it gets a little creepy

other people around you get jealous cuz like duh, a really good-looking man is intensely looking at you??

awkward flirting and pickuplines

“i love your blue orbs..” “they’re brown??”

he’s sweet tho, he listens to you talk about yourself so attentively

his laugh and giggles melt your heart fr, you didn’t know he had such a cute side behind his cool exterior

overall, let’s say you had a good time minus the weird flirting and staring 😃

“so when’s our second date?”

— han yujin

he’s not necessarily nervous

why? because his hyung is there to help him, of course!

how? by making him wear earpods and telling him what to do 👍

“yujin, tell them that ‘you are looking beautiful tonight’.” gyuvin suggests

yujin looks to the side before whispering back “are you sure?”

gyuvin responds with a small ‘yes’ before standing up to get a full view of yujin

yujin hesitates before speaking up “i am looking beautiful tonight.”

gyuvin mentally facepalms himself as he sits back down 😟

eventually the ‘date’ leaves because they think yujin is weird

“is this why you’re lonely, gyuvin?” “oh, shut up.”

© keiwook | 2023

tag @bruhiamistake @trashydez @chxrrymxxnlight @haesunflower @big-uwu-stan @gnwookie @yjhcloud @kpoprhia @channiesprincess @blaycke @watamotee33 @hazyskyline @doobinnies @haechan-nahceah

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#💫—keiwook workz #zb1 #zumblrfics #zerobaseone #boys planet #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios #zb1 drabbles #boys planet imagines #zb1 zhanghao #zb1 sung hanbin #zb1 hanbin #zb1 seok matthew #zb1 matthew #zb1 ricky #zb1 park gunwook #zb1 reactions #zb1 gunwook #zb1 kim taerae #zb1 taerae #zb1 kim gyuvin #zb1 gyuvin #zb1 kim jiwoong #zb1 jiwoong #zb1 han yujin #zb1 yujin #zb1 x reader #zb1 fluff #zb1 fics #boys planet fluff

[superhoeva]

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

next chapter | series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

⬩ pairing(s) sebastian "sebby" garvey (original male character) x musician!reader, carmen "carmy" berzatto x musician!reader, (brief) luca davies-bernardi x musician!reader

⬩ warning(s) language, toxic/emotionally abusive relationship, sad girl!reader (but it's okay bc it's gonna get better!), nervous!carmen, a hint of the crush on your professor trope, basically everything that comes with being a self-doubting music student, anxiety, mention of injury (burn), mean boyfriend alert :(

⬩ author's note super excited to post this. it's been in the works since july! special special thank you to my loves @nolita-fairytale and @arctvrvs! they've been down in the weeds with me as this story materialized, and should basically be seen as betas considering how much i was able to lean on them while creating this story. this one is near and dear to my heart, and i hope you all enjoy as much as i do writing it. a lot more to come, so stay tuned!

⬩ word count 4.7k

A stage is a hard thing to command. That fact is one of the first things you learn when stepping onto it. Just the sheer act of pretending like one is comfortable with doing so takes hours of preparation; late nights full of callous skin and cramping muscles; dry eyes from staring at the same two measures, listening to the same four beats; and more dedication than one ever thinks one can give.

But it is wonderful. And, God, does it make you feel alive.

That feeling one gets from knowing that you hold the attention of the entire room. The action of creating a sound or movement big enough to reach the very back wall of the recital hall. To reach and affect the furthest person in the furthest seat.

However, tonight is not your night to conquer those feats or enjoy that attention. Instead, you get to act as a member of the audience, residing in a plush seat near the very front of the stage. It’s a little uncomfortable, but the way Sebastian glides his bow across the strings of his violin more than makes up for it. He makes it look effortless, but you know it’s anything but.

No one can look away from where Seb stands at the left of the conductor. His movements are seamless–suave and mesmerizing. His playing even more so, the quiver of his vibrato touching enough to make Hilary Hahn shed a tear or two. Full of character yet seeped in control, it causes you to look at him like he hangs the stars.

You don’t even glance down to reposition the bouquet of red petunias in your lap. Tonight is Sebastian’s night, and nothing will stop you from catching every single note of the first movement of Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto in E Minor Op. 64. The piece ends with a high-energy tutti–every performer’s sound becoming one–and you’re the first one on your feet after the conductor cuts off the final note.

The rest of the room joins in your standing and clapping, several whistles of admiration filtering from the crowd to the stage. Sebastian, his smile as wide as it’ll ever get, takes his bow.

The roar of applause grows a little louder. Your hands hurt from clapping, but you can’t care.

It was wonderful. He’s wonderful.

A small grin tugs at your lips at the sight of Sebastian turning to shake hands with Abeni–the Concertmaster and one of your fellow classmates–and Dr. Hansen–the conductor and highly respected orchestral music professor. Your smile blossoms further when the entire orchestra (which mostly consists of orchestral performance majors) takes a final bow. The relief visibly lifts off his shoulders, into the air of the concert hall, and blankets right over you.

Although it squeezes and tenses most of your muscles, you’re able to keep a pleasant, proud expression. Smile unfaltering. Clap never breaking in rhythm. It takes you absolutely no effort to fake the dread pooling inside your stomach. You’ve gotten quite good at it, actually.

How’s the saying go? Practice makes perfect.

.・゜゜・

Sebastian’s been a magnet as long as you’ve known him. He easily attracts anyone within the near vicinity. Now is no different as everyone from professors to members of the orchestra surround and congratulate him. You stand and wait patiently a few feet away as Sebastian jokes with the principal cellist, Kenny, with light eyes. Your usual place, but you don’t mind it.

It isn’t until Kenny points you out to Sebastian that he turns to you. Face brighter than the sun, you drag your gaze over the suit you helped him pick out for tonight. He’s already loosened his tie and undone the top two buttons. And taken off his suit jacket, which you suspect is bunched up somewhere backstage. You’ll have to remind him to hang it up properly tonight. So it doesn’t wrinkle. Flicking your eyes back up, you’re heart speeds at the way he steps over toward you.

“That was amazing, Sebby,” you breathe out after traveling over, hand reaching to settle a hand on his cheek. “You’re amazing.”

Sebastian sends you a half smile. His hand reaches for yours. He gives it a small squeeze before letting it drop.

“Thank you, darling,” he rushes out, pressing an even faster kiss on your forehead. “Go fetch my things, yeah? Can’t be late to my own get-together.”

You blink and clutch the bouquet. He doesn’t even glance at the flowers before departing with an arm around Kenny, laughing to him and a few others about how close he was to fucking up a  measure in the middle of his first piece. You blink again. Bite the skin inside your cheek.

“Okay, yeah.”

Your attempt at an answer reaches nowhere near his ears and ends up trailing off into nothing.

It takes you all of ten minutes to gather Sebby’s belongings–both his violin cases, suit jacket, and music binder. The bouquet and your purse are still in your grasp as well, and you’re certain you look something foolish as you struggle toward the building’s exit. Balancing his items along with your own proves to be just as difficult as it sounds. You bumble and nearly drop one of the cases, but what makes your chest jump is the unexpected call of your name. A sigh of relief leaves you when you turn and see a familiar pair of warm, brown eyes.

Dr. Henry Solano. Department Chair of Composition at the Royal Danish Academy of Music. Your trusted advisor. And the only reason you haven’t gone completely insane during your recital preparation.

“Need some help?” It sounds like a question, but he’s already over and lifting the violin cases out of your hands with a knowing grin before you can answer. You give him a small thank you and sheepish expression. He nods at you and holds open the door. It isn’t until both of you are outside and several steps away from the building that Henry clears his throat.

“While I wanna ask what kind of guy leaves his girlfriend to carry all his shit, I think my time would be better spent asking you about how you think your recital prep is going.”

You sigh. “He’s just inside saying goodbye to a few people. And it’s going good, I’m actually really excited.”

There’s a wobble in your answer that you hope Henry doesn’t notice.

“But?”

The single word pulls another sigh from you.

“...I’m really fucking nervous,” you release with a laugh and Henry has to chuckle alongside you. “Probably more nervous than excited, if I’m being honest.”

��If it makes you feel any better, what we went over a few days ago sounded great,” Henry tells you. “You might not think you’re ready, but I know you are. Wouldn’t let the program happen if you weren’t.”

Something in his voice allows you to breathe easily. For now, at least. His deep, steady tone has been a sense of comfort, a place of ease ever since you moved to the City of Spires. He’s always been there, whether your problems have to do with a tricky rhythmic passage or with your family back at home.

“This is you, right?”

You nod as Henry points out your nearby… something. You don’t bother to remember the name of the make and model. It’s somewhere on the registration papers stuffed in the glove compartment.

“Yep,” you tell him, fishing the keys out of your pocket and popping the trunk. “I really appreciate it, Prof.”

Henry shakes his head as he slides the violin cases into the vehicle. He even grabs Seb’s suit jacket and binder, placing them neatly in the back before shutting the trunk.

“It’s no problem, hun” he promises and you can tell he means it. “And I was serious about what I said earlier. You’re gonna kill it. I’m certain.”

A warm feeling blossoms throughout your chest. You bite the inside of your cheek and glance down at the flowers still in your grasp. Before you can even realize what you’re doing, you hold out the bouquet with a small smile.

“Here. As a thank you.”

Henry huffs out a laugh, scratching the back of his head. He purses his lips, eyes softening at your action.

“No, I couldn’t–”

“I insist,” you nod, pushing them closer to the now bashful professor. “As an extra thank you. Not just for this, but the entire semester. And the four others before that.”

Henry sighs at your words, staring at you. Then the flowers. Then back at you. Finally, he takes them delicately, and your face brightens in victory. It’s the least you could do.

“Thank you.”

His words are quiet but moving. He observes the flowers with a meaningful intention and you blink when he carefully removes one from the bouquet and hands it back to you. It takes everything inside you to force away the wave of wetness that wants to pool at your eyes.

You grab the single petunia, so bright and red, and take a moment to treasure how pretty it is.

“I’ll see you on Monday. Three, right?”

A nod from Henry.

“Uh-huh. And do me a favor and don’t look at any of the music until tomorrow evening at the latest. Give your brain a little break.” He wants to laugh at the way your eyebrows pinch together but doesn’t. “I’m serious. Don’t need you overanalyzing shit this close to the performance.”

A breath blows from your lips and you lull your head to the side. Well, there go your plans for tomorrow morning.

“Fine.”

“Good,” Henry winks with a kind hand on your shoulder. “See you Monday.”

With that, he’s gone. Whisking himself away further into the parking lot and making sure to hold his gift from you upright. You nibble at your bottom lip, looking back at your flower. Raising it, it just about reaches your nose. Only a hint of sweetness meets your nose before a loud hoot cuts through the silence, startling you.

The flower drops from your hands, onto the hard cement beneath you. You hurry to try and pick it back up but the flash of a familiar face prevents you from doing so.

“There you are, come on!”

A sloppy kiss presses into your cheek and you just barely conceal a frown at the unpleasantly wet feeling it leaves behind. You’re suddenly surrounded by a rowdy group of Kenny, Emil, Lars, and Seb. The latter with a heavy hand around your arm as he pulls you to the driver’s seat of the car.

“Need you to drive. You’re the only one who knows the way to Anya’s place from here.”

You know for a fact that that’s not true, but Sebastian shoves the keys in your hand before you can remind him. You’re promptly shuffled into the driver’s seat, Lars who called shotgun settling in next to you. Through the rearview mirror, you see your boyfriend, Emil, and Kenny clamber into the back seat.

The four young men continue their hollers as you pull out of the parking space. You drive as they talk loudly, slapping the seats, full of post-performance adrenaline. There’s an attempt from you to laugh and joke along, but the flower from Henry sitting sad back on the pavement clouds your mind in a haze that lasts all the way to your destination.

.・゜゜・

Carmen’s head hurts. He’s been staring at the table of scribbles and drawings of potential dishes for hours now, and his head hurts. Nothing is working. Flavors are clashing and the color isn’t right.

“Fuck,” he spits out quietly, eyes reaching up to rub his eyes painfully hard. Nothing is fucking working. What the hell are these flavors? And don’t even get him started on the colors.

He carelessly drops his pencil, letting it bounce against the table and onto the floor. It falls next to the other seven he’s chucked down there. Fingers running through his greasy hair, Carmen sniffs. Break. He needs a break.

Luca is already out on the balcony, halfway done with his cigarette. A nasty habit he’d picked up under the stress of the kitchen, but he’s young. He can quit later.

Carmen doesn’t have to say a word as Luca plucks a smoke from his own pack and hands it to him. Carmen lights his cigarette with familiar ease, the action feeling automatic after all this time. He finds himself grateful when the gracious silence continues, yet his thankfulness leaves him at record speed when Luca rumbles out a quiet, “Still working on recipes?”

A wordless nod from Carmen pushed a mixture of smoke and a light laugh from Luca’s lips.

“You need a break, Carm.”

“I am taking a break. Right here, with you.”

“A real one–one that has nothing to do with making sure the colors on your plate match. You need to get outta the apartment. Get somewhere where I’m not the only person you see.”

It’s Carmen’s turn to laugh, and it’s almost bitter. “You’re the only person I like.”

Luca pauses at the words, a small smile decorating the drag he inhales.

“I’m flattered, mate. Really. Still taking you out tonight, though.”

Carmen’s eyebrows furrow almost painfully. He shakes his head and almost chokes at the smoke he let sit in his lungs for too long.

“I don’t wanna go to a party.”

“It’s not a party,” Luca clarifies, looking away from the currently calm sidewalk that lies nicely in front of their apartment and at Carmen. “Just something a friend of a friend invited me to. Some gathering at someone’s place over in Vanløse–”

Carmen’s speaking before he means to, his voice pinched in a whine.

“–I don’t wanna fuckin’ go.”

Luca stops, a look cutting over to the Berzatto with expertly subdued annoyance. God, he hates it when Carmen gets like this. Pissy and borderline rude and completely consumed in something he doesn’t need to be. He stares for one more moment, just to make Carmen feel it a bit, before smashing out his cigarette in the ashtray to his right. He’s turning to head back inside when a low sorry halts him.

“Sorry,” Carmen whispers out again. He searches helplessly for something else to say, eyes trailing down to Luca’s sneakers. Forest Green Campus 00s. Adidas. The pair Luca’s been looking forward to since the announcement of their return two months ago. “They look good.”

Luca follows Carmen’s gaze and has to bite back a proud smile. “...Thanks. Picked them up this morning. You know, I’ve still got an in with the guy, might be able to get you a pair. Whatever color.”

A slow nod bobs Carmen’s head. He turns back to the city, a long cloud of smoke streaming from his lips. “Maybe… maybe.”

As Luca turns to resume his journey back to the flat’s living room, one last mumble catches just inside his ear. 

“I’ll go.”

The pastry chef grins to himself, sliding open the balcony door and leaving Carmen alone in the kind Copenhagen air of late afternoon. Carmen spills a heavy sigh. Only now does he remember the burn on his hand from yesterday’s mishap in the kitchen, still sore and fresh.

He really should patch that up.

.・゜゜・

Sebastian, Lars, Emil, and Kenny are tumbling out of the car before you pull it to a full stop. The quiet it brings doesn’t allow it to irritate you. If anything, you’re grateful for the lack of whatever the hell the four of them were rambling about on the drive over.

You take your time getting out of the vehicle, triple-checking to make sure it’s locked before falling into line behind the guys. They knock on Arya’s front food an obnoxious amount of times, and you can already imagine the look on her face when she swings it open.

“It’s open, you idiots,” Arya groans out as soon as she pulls open the door. Lars giggles childishly, and you feel a hand grab at your wrist. Seb. He yanks you into his side as he enters behind Kenny, Lars, and Emil.

Arya looks right past all of them, cementing her gaze onto you. She tugs you away from Seb, gently, squeezing a warm hug around you.

“Hi, love,” she breathes out over the already commotion of the music and guests in the other rooms.

When she breaks away, something inside you needs you to turn to Sebastian. Does he need anything? A snack? Drink? Drink, he definitely needs a drink after an already long evening of sonatas and concertos.

Arya can feel you thinking, the strain of the gears in your head bleeding out of you clear as day. She flicks her eyes to Sebastian, who’s already accompanying Emil to another room. Before you can turn any further, Arya links an arm with yours and guides you down the hall to your left.

“Wait, but,” you try, but she shushes you. “Arya…”

She tuts you one last time, shuffling you towards a closed door. She flicks it open, and you’re both inside before you get the chance to blink.

Arya’s bedroom.

A collage of old polaroids you watched her take on the pier of Svanemølle Beach is still taped to the side of her queen bed. The one you spent laying on for most of last summer, as you cried over the problems that attempted to follow you over the Atlantic. All the while Arya helps you through your tears with delicate hands and comforting whispers.

You smile at the fairy lights she has hung in the corner of the room. They’re just as warm as you remember.

“How’s work going?”

Arya lets out a sigh but smiles. She’s been working as a music teacher at a nearby primary school for the past several months–teaching children the more simple concepts of music theory. Arya had been in her last year of Music Education when you arrived on campus as a wide-eyed, shaky freshman. You’ve been under her wing ever since, staying close and growing closer as the two of you watched each other learn and age through womanhood. Shoulder by shoulder. Step by step. In many ways, she reminded you of your older sister. The nice one.

You wonder how she’s doing.

“It’s actually going really great,” she grins with something warm. “My co-workers are nice and the kids are sweethearts. I’m especially excited for when Christmas comes around. Hearing them sing those little carols I have planned for their holiday recital is going to have everyone melting. Oh! Speaking of recitals, how’s your prep going? Are you ready?”

A thick bile threatens to rise up your throat.

“Can we talk about something else, please?”

Arya squints her eyes with crossed arms and pursed lips. She thinks for a moment.

“Okay, fine. How’s the man-child?”

“...Can we talk about something else, please–”

Arya stops you with a scoff. “I just really don’t get it, darling. You deserve so much better than that. I mean, i’s why I dragged you away so quickly. So you couldn’t dote over him like he’s your kid.”

“I don’t dote on him,” you clarify, and the bile rises a little higher. “I just like to take care of him.”

Another sigh from Arya. This one’s longer and extra heavy. She just stares at you for a moment before stepping over and pressing a kiss into your forehead.

“Gotta go make sure Eli’s not fucking up anything, you know how he can get. Stay in here as long as you want, ‘kay?”

With that, Arya heads for the door. You don’t catch the sympathetic look she throws back to you before trekking down the hall, the clunk of her thick platform boots falling into a quiet nothing.

She got the job right out of graduation, which neither of you could believe. Yet you still celebrated the offer with plenty of fruit wine with a name on the label you don’t dare try to pronounce.

A burn heats your eyes. Snapping them shut, your fists clench. You feel as though you’re ten years old all over again. Standing in your room back home. Legs ratting. Little heart sore and broken.

Get over it a horribly familiar voice sneers inside your head, echoing with a darkness you still struggle to find yourself in. Get over it.

Your recovery happens in record time. It’s as though you blinked and you’re walking into the front room with a drink for Sebastian held safe in your hands. A simple plastic cup with an even simpler party punch mix that was made concocted by Arya a little while ago.

You make it to Sebastian, who’s busy chatting amongst a group of familiar faces. Lars and Kenny next to him, the two of them messily laughing and talking over one another. Lux across from them, to Sebastian’s right, giving an impressive attempt at trying to follow along the several spillages of words tumbling out around her.

A few others you recognize from campus are there, too, but your eyes gravitate towards Sebastian. Your hand is soft and careful as you graze it across his shoulder. The expression on his face when he turns to meet your eyes drops your stomach a little, but you smile through it.

“Hi, Sebby. Brought you a drink.”

He waves you off. The flick of a grin crosses his face, but it’s rude and dismissive. You swallow and try again.

“It’s just the stuff Rya made,” you mumble out quietly, not wanting to attract any extra attention. Sebastian cuts his eyes to you, fingers wiggling in a silent order for you to knock it off. Something inside you makes you try one more time. “You sure, baby?”

A gasp tightens your chest once Seb finally turns around, placing a grip on your waist and jerking you toward him. His other arm circles around you as his lips press up against your ear. There’s a tight smile on his face, and you have to balance the drink to keep him from sloshing onto the back of his shirt.

A squeeze on your hips.

“Can you just fuck the hell off, baby? Please?”

Sebastian pulls away just enough to look you in the eyes. His smile is still plastered across his face, something vile behind it. You blink and tip the corners of your mouth upwards. A stiff nod finally allows him to let you go. You keep smiling as he returns to the group, jumping back into the conversations with a sickening ease.

Your eyes dance around the room, and you feel so hot. Glancing down into the cup, your legs haul your body back to the sink in the kitchen. You don’t remember to blink as you dump the liquid down the drain. The rest of the world grows mute around you for what feels like hours.

.・゜゜・

Carmen found that it’s a lot easier to do things when Luca’s around. Too bad he’s back somewhere in another part of the house Carmen can’t remember. In the middle of a riveting back and forth with someone Carmen can’t remember the name of.

Carmen steps into the kitchen, skin sizzling with uncertainty. His gaze zips right to a young woman staring deeply into the steel of the sink. He blinks and glances around.

Is… is she real?

The chef waits a few moments. When the woman doesn’t disappear, Carmen feels his throat tighten.

He debates just leaving whoever she is be, but his mouth is so dry. And he needs some kind of alcohol if he’s going to make it through the next few hours. His feet take easy steps toward where the rest of the drinks sit pretty in a bucket of ice on the other side of the stranger.

The deep breath he inhales only steadies him a tad as he continues. He freezes when you turn to him. He can barely get out his small, “You mind if I get a drink?”

Carmen knows he’s blushing when you look at his lips. He bites at them unintentionally, waiting for you to say something. Anything. Finally–

“Sorry, what?”

Carmen relaxes a little and almost smiles. His eyes soften at the genuinely lost expression on your face.

“Nothing, just uh,” he starts, “just tryna get… something to drink.”

It takes a long ten seconds of you and Carmen staring at one another for you to realize that you’re blocking his access to the drinks on the counter.

“Oh, sorry,” you hurry out and scoot away. Carmen is quick to shake his head.

“No problem,” Carmen replies and is quick to shake his head at you. “S’alright.”

Silence fills the area as he goes to pull a random drink from the ice. He doesn’t remember to glance at the label on the glass, mind busy with averting his gaze from where you stand. You’re no better, shuffling back and forth in your chunky heels. The ones you decided to wear because you know how much Sebastian likes them.

Carmen barely stops himself from jumping when you quietly ask, “Are you a student at the conservatory?”

Conservatory?

“Con-conservatory? Uh, no. No, I’m, uh, I’m a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend that dragged me out here tonight.”

Your nod is interrupted by the dropping of your head, as another wave of weak but noticeable tears pools its way into your eyes. Carmen’s widens slightly, and his internal desire to retreat back into himself is so strong.

“Are you, uh… are you okay? You just, you got some,” Carmen sputters, finger reaching up to gesture toward his eyes. When he tries to finally push out the question, the sound of footsteps stops him.

“Carmen? You good?”

Everyone in the room pauses. You and Carmen, who looks like a deer caught in headlights, whip your heads toward Luca. His gaze immediately drags over to you, and he swallows. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You’re not. Just talking to…” Carmen shrinks into nothing looking back at you. Name. He wants your name. You rattle it off to him in a way that makes the skin on his neck redden some more. Carmen repeats it softly, those big, baby blues intense and unmoving. Luca steps further into the kitchen, smiling lightly at the way the syllables fall from your lips.

Your lips. They’re nice, even in the dim light of the kitchen.

“I’m Luca. That’s Carmen.”

Their names fit perfectly. So perfect, that it makes you forget all about the cup you dropped in the sink. Carmen clears his throat and sniffs. He shifts, unsure of what to say next, but grimaces harshly when he brushes his hand up against the hard of the counter. Your eyebrows furrow at the action but unwrinkle as soon as you see the bright burn on his hand.

Luca, who moves as soon as Carmen hisses, rounds the island in the middle of the room. He towers over Carmen, grabbing the smaller man’s hand and raising it up to get a better look.

“I thought you took care of that,” Luca gently scolds, face pinched into a frown.

“Yeah, no,” Carmen answers.

Just as Luca lets go of Carmen, you take a smaller step toward the men. “Uh, I can patch that up, if you want. There’s stuff up in the bathroom to take care of it, plus I’m really close with the owner of the house. I know she wouldn’t mind. Especially since you’re a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend.”

Carmen lets himself grin a little while Luca releases a short chuckle.

“Okay, yeah. Yeah, I’ll take you up on that.” He turns to Luca and begins to follow where you’re heading for a nearby hallway. “I’ll be back in a second–”

“Luca can come, too. If you want. Arya won’t care.”

Carmen shuffles so you can’t see the way he widens his eyes at Luca. He tries to nod as inconspicuously as possible, and the taller man has to hold back the strong giggle that tries to exit him.

“Yes, okay,” Luca nods with a shrug, looking to you with a soft smile. “Lead the way.”

© superhoeva

#the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #luca x reader #chef luca x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #luca the bear #chef luca #au: rule of three

[static-radio-ao3]

@jegulus-microfic // march 18 // prompt: instrument // words: 758 // part two + part three

“What do you play?” James asks, voice muffled as he is digging through his laundry basket.

“Huh?”

“Instrument, I mean.” James turns to face him. His glasses are halfway down his nose and Regulus’ fingers twitch with the need to adjust them. James is annoyingly handsome. Even in the middle of the night when his hair is tousled and his glasses are smudged and he has baby formula on his ratty college shirt, tan skin glowing under the fluorescent lights of the basement laundry room.

“What do you play? We’ve been talking every night but I don’t even know what instrument you play. I hear you sometimes when I get home.”

“Shit, I'm sorry, I can try to keep it down.”

“No, please, I like it!” Another second of rummaging before James shuts the door to the machine, twists the dial and presses the start button. “It sounds nice. Harry likes it too.”

James checks the volume on the baby monitor again, making sure it is still turned all the way up. When he is sure it didn’t magically turn off in the minute since he checked last, he places it gingerly on the bench in the middle of the room, sitting down next to Regulus.

Their shoulders brush. His arm feels warm where it is pressed against James’, despite the frigid air in the basement.

“Ah, thank you. It's uh— violin. I'm at the conservatory for classical music.”

“You must be really hard-working, then.”

This pleases Regulus, satisfaction burrowing its way into his chest, making him preen a little. People always think he is talented.

Secretly, Regulus hates that word. He has never been talented. No particular skill that stood out — and his parents made sure he knew it.

So yes, Regulus is hard-working. Passionate. Stays up until 3 A.M. to practice, tucked away in the laundry room so he doesn’t wake Sirius in their tiny two-bedroom apartment.

That’s how this whole thing started. Regulus, resident insomniac, slipping out of bed with his violin tucked under his arm. James, still adjusting to the fact that his son is now sleeping through the night, doing chores on the wrong side of midnight.

“I have to be, if I want to be the best,” Regulus says.

“I’ll have to come see you play sometime, then.” James makes it sound like a give. Like it is something he is willing to make time for. Regulus’ heart flutters. Traitor, he whispers at it.

“Do you now?” His teeth tug at the dry skin on his lips, picking at it until he bleeds. Sirius always tells him off for it but it is a nervous habit he has yet to beat.

“Absolutely. If you’ll have me that is.”

A hurried yes almost bursts from him, but he traps it behind his teeth before he can actually say it. He tries to play it cool despite the heat in his face, a teasing tone as he says, “Maybe. Gotta see if you’re worth keeping around first.”

James laughs at that. Regulus thinks it sounds sweeter than his violin ever has.

“I’ll be such a good audience, I swear. I can make a career-switch. Go from sports reporting to music reporting.” Because James works for the local newspaper. Writes sports columns. Takes his son with him to football games, a tiny infant strapped to his chest. The mental image of James at a recital with baby Harry on his hip makes Regulus’ heart flutter again. “Would that be enough proof of my dedication?”

More fluttering. Traitor, traitor, traitor. Regulus pretends to ponder on it for a moment.

“It’ll do. For now.”

James scoffs. Rolls his eyes. “For now, he says.”

It sounds fond.

Neither of them says anything else but Regulus doesn’t mind it. His eyes are trained on the laundry machine with his clothes in it. He watches it spin and spin and spin. Lets himself get hypnotized by the repetitive motion, the quiet humming, James’ even breaths. It’s peaceful.

“Same time tomorrow?” Regulus asks when he has gathered all his laundry, the basket propped against his hip. He doesn’t miss the way James’ eyes droop with his nod. He chuckles softly at the sight. “Get some sleep, James.”

A mumbled, “Sweet dreams” follows him out of the room.

For once, Regulus is eager to fall asleep, only so he can see James again tomorrow.

It is only in the silent halls of the apartment building that he lets himself think that there is no sweeter dream than those moments they share.

#hello microfic enjoyers. daddy’s home. #(i mean me btw) #also i’m actually not home i am simply dropping this off before leaving again #sorrey #anyways uhhh tags #give it up for the laundry room romance!! #i just think they’d be so soft and sleepy but still trying to stay awake to talk to each other #and then slipping into their respective beds with a grin on their faces #regulus black #james potter #starchaser #jegulus #jegulus microfic #mil’s microfics #mil’s writing

[wolfythewitch]

If techno and Tommy were in different places. How did tommy managed at first?? I imagine techno.coming back to pick him and protect him, specially if they are family, but how did that reunion go at first

Tommy was better off than most tbh, the baseball field was fairly empty as it was only practice and not an actual game. When the announcement rang over the speakers to evacuate immediately, for parents to take their children home, most children, while nervous, went compliantly with the coach back to the school. Tommy had slipped away and stayed behind. One rule techno had given him was when lost, stay in the last place Techno knew he had been, and techno would find him there. So he stayed behind in the field, and when the first few zombies started shambling towards him, Techno had beaten them first, scooping his little brother up with an arm and a broken violin in another. He had abandoned the shattered violin on the floor and picked up one of the bigger bats, and brute forced his way through the few that came at them, Tommy's arms wrapped around his neck

#wolfy tedtalks #anon #zombie au

[kwillow]

People are too nice to me and send me so many intriguing and prescient questions and scenarios about my imaginary friends. Some of these I would have a hard time responding to with drawings, so I've gotta just use my words (SO MANY WORDS) instead!

So, for all interested parties, in response to those questions, here come some LORE RAMBLES: THEO EDITION.

Asks and answers under the cut!

Thank you! “Strange but interesting” is what I aim for with him.

I don’t think I’ve talked about Theo’s voice before! To be honest, I often struggle to imagine precisely what my character’s voices are; the qualities of my mental performance for them varies from day to day. Still, I think with Theo I can formulate a description of some kind.

I imagine his voice to be on the higher end for a man, though not exaggeratedly so, along the tenor range. He can deepen his pitch purposefully to sound more imposing or masculine, but his voice tends to rise in pitch further and further when he’s tense, like a violin string on the verge of snapping. He speaks clearly and distinctly, sometimes to the point of almost biting off the ends of words rather than having them sloppily run into each other, and only rarely uses contractions. His voice has a slight nasal quality to it at times. When he’s angry, a bit of a rattling growl can edge the end of his words.

When he was young, he was a terrible stutterer. He made a concerted effort to train himself out of stuttering in his adolescent years, but he will still lapse into r-ruh-ruh-repeating his syllables if anxiousness gets the better of him and makes him forget to swallow those extra sounds.

He is an expressive speaker, far more so than he’d prefer. Like his pitch varies, so too does his volume, and he can swing from speaking so softly as to be almost inaudible to screaming with all the volume his lungs can muster in a moment. His cadence is full of exaggerated pauses for effect mixed with swift traipses through less important words said simply for the music of reciting them to himself; his conversational tone sounds more like a performer going through a soliloquy than casual speech. In large part, that’s because he’s had more pleasant experiences with theater than conversation.

As many have noticed, he has also a vocal tic. He makes nasally sounds and guttural grunts and growls involuntarily, more often when he’s nervous or upset about something. As he gets older and his body is less able to shrug off the effects of his little smoking habit, he wheezes and coughs in the middle of his sentences as well.

For most settings, I imagine him speaking in a highly affected Transatlantic accent, but in Amaranthine (which is what I assume people are asking about and what I’m defaulting to for these answers), his accent might be more typically British posh-y, like Received Pronunciation. Or maybe not, I mean, it’s a funny animal fantasy setting, so he could have any accent I like. :P

If you want auditory examples, I think something mixing the high-pitched, sibilant, nasally breathiness of Peter Lorre with the refined yet expressive voice of Vincent Price would get you pretty close to what I imagine. To break from the classic horror actor category, you can also throw in this animated series’ depiction of Doctor Octopus to add the all-important ingredient of “nerd factor” to his voice, haha.

He’s a bookworm, yes, but that means he likes to learn! In his case, he’s also someone who enjoys mastering (or at least getting competent at) new skills and is extremely likely to learn to do something well just because someone thinks he can’t. He also has the benefit of being kicked out of school and extremely unemployed, so for most of his life he had lots and lots of free time to take on all manner of niche hobbies if he so desired!

His drive to learn a new skill is motivated by a combination of practicality, gentlemanliness, a need to know how to handle his own business to have as little outside interference as possible or simple intellectual curiosity (which itself is often a cover for boyish whimsy about Cool Stuff). To give examples of practical skills he taught himself: most people probably wouldn’t expect him to be a good cook, but he learned to do that because his family lost their household staff, and someone had to figure out how to cook beef – and because he wanted to take better care of his mother after she fell ill. He’s a great seamster because he wanted to make alterations to his clothes to better fit his unusual proportions without suffering the indignity of being prodded and measured by some nosy tailor. Where he lives, engines are extremely uncommon, being used only for agriculture if at all, but if Theo did own his own automobile, he would learn how to fix the thing himself as best as he could because he wouldn’t want some stranger poking around in his precious baby. He does know how to repair basic clockwork mechanisms, though! (Even if he won’t fix his own pocket watch for weird sentimental reasons.) He taught himself to be ambidextrous purely because he worried about losing a hand in a freak accident one day. He never wants to be caught unprepared or feel like he can’t handle something on his own if he needs to.

For skills in the “oh but if I could do this it would be so cool – I MEAN GENTLEMANLY” camp… yeah, actually, he does like to fence. He might not be able to hold his own all that well against a trained opponent, partly just because of his own physical limitations, but he knows the footwork and he certainly enjoys fighting stationary enemies while role-playing in his head as a knight. (He would be exceedingly embarrassed if anyone knew that part.) He can dance – but only as half a pair – and play the piano – or at least the chords his fingers can reach. He makes model ships and is familiar with all their parts even though he’s never seen the ocean. He knows a fair bit about women’s fashion and could probably help a lady pick a flattering dress for a gala… if she didn’t mind dressing about decade out of style. He’s a fine marksman, though that does overlap with “practical skills” when you live in a world with monsters creeping around on the edges of towns. And that’s not even getting into his self-taught anatomy lessons! But maybe we shouldn’t get into that, for the sake of our stomachs.

I could keep rambling, but to summarize, Theo lacks worldly experience, but he is a curious little guy and has all kinds of weird skills rattling around in his skull. You never know what he’s gonna know! Except for anything involving successfully interacting with other people. He’s never going to know how to do that.

Theo is the sort of person who enjoys collecting things, in that he is often captivated by the history and sentimental value of objects that catch his eye, likes to have a little hoard he can lord over like a dragon, doesn’t see value in minimalism and is loath to get rid of anything he owns.

However, he’s a homebody who rarely traveled far from his hometown of Northcrest, a small and remote barony, and his family (and therefore he) did not have the kind of financial situation that allowed for many frivolous expenditures. Therefore, he cannot regularly obtain new items for his collections because he would quickly exhaust everything that caught his eye in his own town, and he would be wary of spending his family’s dwindling funds on something that only served to satisfy his own whims. If he were in different circumstances, able and willing to travel more broadly and possessing the kind of wealth that allowed him to fully indulge his fascinations, I’d imagine he’d have quite the collection of art, weapons, antique books, clothing, and other fineries. As it stands, he only rarely adds a new object to his own collections, and he instead contents his inner dragon by attempting to maintain and catalogue the acquisitions made by past Norths that have accrued in their manor over the generations. Still… a toy store in his town has made quite a profit off him by having new model trains in stock around his birthday and holidays.

I don’t think he’d be terribly enthused with an insect collection, regrettably. At least not a live one. Preserved, exotic kinds might at least hold the intrigue of far-off places, but something more mundane (and wrigglier) would repulse him more than fascinate him.

I’m going to say somewhere along the line between “absolutely not” and “it’s complicated.” Theo obviously gets fulfillment from looking after the people he cares about, and in Amaranthine, he’s been in a caregiver role for so long he takes a certain amount of comfort in it. Even so, if he somehow knew people thought that he “wants” the people he’s close with to fall ill, or have chronic poor health, he’d be horrified. Theo’s not exactly the most hale and hearty fellow himself (and he’s also made his health notably worse through the years via his own actions, good job on that bud), so he knows first-hand how miserable frequent illness is. He wouldn’t want someone to suffer through that. Also, witnessing his mother’s slow decline and death was harrowing for him, and part of why he flings himself into caring for Hyden is that he doesn’t want to see something like that again and is doing all he can to keep Hyden stable. It brings him comfort, but the stress of feeling responsible for someone’s health – and the stress of only being able to manage their symptoms and never fix the problem – takes a toll on him, too, even if he wouldn’t say so.

So, he wouldn’t blame a sickly partner for their condition, and he’d be willing to care for them and want to help them, but I don’t think he’d ever say he “wants” someone he cares about to be sick. Would he nonetheless be more likely to get close to someone sick versus someone well? Well, maybe. Theo has a bit of a dependent streak, not in that he needs someone to dote on him, but that he doesn’t feel like he has any worth in a relationship unless he can provide protection or assistance. But someone could easily satisfy his need to be needed in other ways, too. Like someone being clumsy and needing their clothes mended regularly, or having a deadbeat husband they need murdered, you know, stuff like that.

He doesn’t know much, and never cared to ask much either, like you imagine. He mostly just knows they’re not nobility, they do have some mage ancestry and ability, and beyond that aren’t important (according to Jocosa). Besides, as a history nerd, he has little interest in learning about his father’s side when his mother’s side has biographies, tapestries, records of badges and achievements and personal spellbooks in such great measure that he couldn’t hope to go through them all in his lifetime. Does Leonard’s side of the family have even one tapestry? No? How dull.

For his part, Leonard isn’t close to or fond of most of his family and isn’t very candid about his past life before becoming successful, so he was amenable to not talking much about his childhood or ancestry. He would prefer if Jocosa was similar restrained and didn’t extoll the virtues and history of her bloodline constantly, but alas, no. One of the consequences of marrying into snotty nobility, I suppose.

Oh, you’re on to something there! :)

Now, with someone like Theo, whose brain is a Gordian knot of congealing gray matter basting in a cerebral soup of self-deception, neuroticism, and concentrated hatred, it’s hard to point to one thing as the sole cause for any of his many issues. At the same time, I don’t want to just dump the entirety of Theo’s issues with his family and how they impact him psychologically because I worry that I could write a thousand words about it and still have five thousand more in me, and we all have other things to do with our time than read all that. That said, to briefly (ha) touch on what you’ve mentioned…

Many of Theo’s problems with intimacy, with needing to feel useful, with fearing connections with others, and so on do stem from his troubled family history. At least some of his self-loathing is borne from him, at a glance, looking more like the man he most despises instead of being the same long, slim, elegant creatures that form the roots and branches of his mother’s family tree. Although, the irony in that is that all the “bad” genetics that cause him grief and suffering come from his mother’s side – but he alternately blames the cruel gods and himself for being a freak, not his mother or grandpa or any of his weaselly ancestors for that.

It’s also true to say that Theo’s self-sacrificing and self-effacing acts of kindness towards his mother and to others he cares for are done in part to make up for the fact of his own existence. The fact that his beloved mother had to couple with a disgusting, loathsome, degrading, unfaithful cur of a man (have I mentioned Theo really hates his dad yet?) in order to bear him weighs heavily on his mind and warps his self-concept. As much as Theo knows his mother loves him, he also knows – and despises – that he if he’s his mother’s son, he’s also his father’s spawn.

Jocosa doesn’t talk at length about her problems to Theo, or anyone – she wouldn’t want to make Theo feel responsible for her woes and she isn’t the kind of woman to whine about her life’s tribulations besides – but Theo isn’t so ignorant that he can’t pick up on the tension in other’s conversations, read meaning into words left unsaid, or work backwards from what he is told to deduce the rotten truth behind what little he’s told. He knows that everything involving his conception was hard for her, even if she doesn’t say it, and he feels he needs to do everything in his power to make up for the suffering bringing him into existence put her through. ...And I could go on but I think that’s enough to get the picture for now. Have I mentioned I can write a lot of words about Theo??

I think Hyden would know better than to say something like that – out loud. Hyden does try to push Theo into a personal valet role. But Theo has his limits and Hyden is smart enough to not press them (too much, right away). Being referred to as a kind of servant is one of those limits that really pisses him off and would be a one-way ticket to not getting any more pillow fluffing. Also, for as much as he helps Hyden with daily tasks and provides whatever dotage he feels is required of him as an apprentice, caregiver or host, there are tasks a manservant would be responsible for that Theo categorically refuses to do (even though Hyden wishes he would).

I am greatly amused by the thought of someone trying to get a flower crown on Theo. I can’t imagine it’d ever go much better than people trying to put shirts on their cats. He just really doesn’t like situations wherein Stimulus I Have No Control Over Is Happening To Me.

He does tend to flip from fury to (relative) calm depending on the circumstance and the source of annoyance, so you’re spot-on with the variable reactions he could have to a floral intrusion. I would say he isn’t likely to use “witch” as an insult for the same reason as he wouldn’t use “harpy” or “ice queen” as an insult, which is that any kind of derogatory comment his mother was ever called might as well be a compliment in his books. “Harlot” is completely fair game, though.

Thanks a bunch for the kind words on my weird rat guy. So happy you like him!

(Also “dark fantasy rose type flower” made me laugh. God. He’s such an edgelord. Emphasis on the “lord”, with a title and arms and everything.)

Glad you like seeing him! I guess one of the benefits of me not getting particularly exotic with the colors or markings on my furry designs is that you can find associations to actual animals like this! I hope your pet rat had a better temperament than Theo does, though.

…Which sounds a little stupid considering quite a lot of these answers involved me talking at length about Theo being sad and self-sacrificing and crap like that. I swear to God he’s a nasty little bitchboy most of the time. I need to draw him biting someone on the face or insulting someone for being poor or eating someone’s eyeball or something again to balance the scales here.

Note to self.

#WHO WANTS TO READ 2800 WORDS ABOUT THEO?? WAIT COME BACK #i wrote this joke about anonymous letters but actually looking at these - #like half of them were actually sent by people non-anonymously #YOU ARE ALL SO BRAVE #also sorry to those of you who sent in asks months or years ago who either are in this or are worse AREN'T... #i do have plans for the asks I get but well #timeliness is not one of my skills #my draws #doodles #asks #theo #amaranthine

[onlinekitsune]

demon boys reaction to catching you singing ♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪

this is incredibly self indulgent but i just had to do a little drabble on this!! there’s no way the brothers aren’t at least somewhat musically talented… especially since they all have songs!!! and i don’t see people talk about it much? and as a person who listens to music constantly, i had to change that

LUCIFER ; he went to ask you something but found you singing in the music room, whatever he wanted to ask is long gone, he is stunned and mesmerized by your voice, he just stands there not wanting to interrupt you or for you to pause, your voice was the most soothing thing he’d ever listen to, no vinyl could compare to you, he’d give you a very much worthy applause, and ask if you wanted to sing another song while he’d play piano, you obviously say yes, on the back of lucifer’s mind he was wonder how’d he get you to record a vinyl just for him

MAMMON ; per usual he’d come crash in your room, before he got there though he heard you singing, but not just any song your guys song, not officially but that’s what mammon thought whenever he heard it, he totally did not associate it with you at all, there was a duet in the song, mammon took the chance to fill in the gap, and maybe impress you, he’d sing the other part while walking in the room, acting like it was nothing despite being so nervous, he’d trip over scattered items on your floor but would continue his lines, he avoided your gaze while waiting for you to join him, he didn’t want to expose how much he’d be blushing

LEVIATHAN ; he’d left his room for a little bit, not too long he’d never keep you waiting for long, but long enough for you to start singing an opening from the current anime you two were watching, it was catchy and stuck in your head, instantly the blue coded demon was bright pink, you were too cute for him, this was something that only happened in anime, so why is it happening now, he’d make his presence well known by falling right in front of you, you stop from the sudden thud of levi, he’d apologize relentlessly for interrupting you, you assured him it was okay, he’d want to sing it again for him

SATAN ; to no ones surprise (expect satan) the library wasn’t the most occupied room in the house, you’d sneak in there to just have time to yourself and to sing without being interrupted, or so you thought, satan decided to treat himself to a cozy reading time at the library, upon hearing music he was a little confused, he didn’t really expect someone in there playing music, you guys had a whole music room, but as he peeked in and saw you he was pleasantly surprised, he didn’t hesitate much, he had other motives, he booked it to his room and grabbed his violin, he returned accompanying you on your song, you couldn’t help but to be enamored 

ASMODEUS ; you didn’t necessary avoid asmo when you sang, but you knew he’d give it so much attention, you were caught off guard one day while scrolling through devilgram, you were mindlessly scrolling while singing, nothing too impressive to you, but when asmodeus caught you he was in awe, to your surprise he didn’t make such a big deal out of it (yet), he’d instantly wip out his phone to record, for his personal viewing but he’d totally think about the views he’d get from posting it, then he would make a huge deal out of it, bombarding you with why you never told him you could sing like that, how long have you been singing, can you sing for him again, he’d also ask you if you wanted to do it professionally, he would use his connections to make that happen if you ever wanted

BEELZEBUB ; cooking and cleaning was a no brainer combo, it made the whole process just so much better, and whenever you had cooking duty with beel it was perfect, you were very comfortable singing with him present, but when you first sang with him while cooking he just stopped dead in his tracks, he didn’t expect how heavenly your voice sounded, it was sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted, beel wasn’t much of a singer but he’d hum along to whatever you decided to sing, he’d want to indulge himself in your song anyways, there was a little bit of pride and love knowing that you felt so comfortable around him that you’d sing by him

BELPHEGOR ; he was aware of your talents from long ago, you’d sing on the staircase to the attic late at night, he didn’t really bring it up, that was until he caught you singing in the planetarium at night, the atmosphere and the echo of your voice was too perfect for you to not sing in here, especially at this time with the stars above you, belphie wouldn’t say anything but he’d sit beside you and look at the stars, you’d pause for a second, not really knowing if you should continue, but he’d ask for you to while he stared at the stars, you’d soon sing him to sleep before falling fast asleep beside him

#omswd #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #obey me fluff #obey me fandom #obey me brainrot #om! lucifer #om! mammon #om! leviathan #om! satan #om! asmodeus #om! beelzebub #om! belphegor #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #lucifer avatar of pride #mammon avatar of greed #leviathan avatar of envy #satan avatar of wrath #asmodeus avatar of lust #beelzebub avatar of gluttony #belphegor avatar of sloth #🌸🍙 ━ mochi's recipebook

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Roses Are Red - Erik Destler (The Phantom) X Female Reader

Title: Roses Are Red

Erik Destler (The Phantom) X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Christine, Madame Giry (Mentioned), Meg (Mentioned), Reader's father (Mentioned)

Requested

WC: 1,628

Warnings: The reader has a father, the reader wears a dress, insecurities, and slight family angst, and that's about it

The beautiful fabric felt heavy in your hands. The soft cotton and lace in such unique designs, it was your best work yet. You had spent months on this dress, working long hours after everyone was asleep to complete it before Christine's big night. You'd always been good with a needle and thread but you hadn't ever made an extravagant gown before. Stopping at Christine's dressing room door, you stared down at the dress. Christine was so lucky, getting to do what she had dreamed of doing since she was little, getting to be a star. You only wished that one day you could be like her.

Stepping into Christine's dressing room, you were immediately greeted by the rising singer. She quickly turned around, eyes widening as a gasp left her lips. "Is that it?" She asked, breathlessly.

"Is that the dress?" She repeated as you handed it over to her.

Christine took in a deep breath before taking it in her arms. "Yes!" She cried out happily. "It's perfect!"

You smiled. "I'm glad you like it."

She ran her hands along the material, running them across the delicate lace and soft fabric. "This is so beautiful! I've never seen anything like it."

You smiled sheepishly, "Well, it is a one-of-a-kind dress. Made for you." You joked lightly and Christine nodded with a huge smile.

"You are amazing, Y/N." She said, brushing her hand against your cotton sleeve. "Thank you."

"No problem." You replied with a nervous chuckle.

You helped with the corset and strings as she brushed down the many layers of the dress's skirt. You both worked in silence, enjoying each other's company while getting ready for the biggest performance of her life. When you finished with the last bit of laces, you stepped back to look at the final product. It was beautiful on her, and you were glad you finished it in time.

After finishing up her hair and make-up, Christine was ushered out of the dressing room and backstage. You stood in her dressing room for a moment, sighing as you clasped your hands and bowed your head. You would usually stand on the side of the stage, watching most of the show, and you knew it would be the right thing to do; supporting your friend. But, at that moment, you wanted to be alone.

Heading up the stairs to the dancer's shared bedroom, you headed to the back of the room, where a wooden door stood. Grabbing your key from your skirt pocket, you unlocked the door and headed inside, climbing a smaller set of stairs before arriving at your small room. This was your special place. A place where you could go to feel safe and relaxed. You carefully shut the second door behind you and locked it with the key, before sliding the bolt closed. Lighting a candle and hanging up the lamp, you walked over to your desk and grabbed your violin.

Picking it up, you ran your fingers against the ebony wood and sighed once more. It was your father who also was a violinist like Christine's father. He was long gone by now, leaving you alone to care for my Meg's mother, Madame Giry. While Christine now had a grand room to sleep in, and Meg slept in the room with the other dancers, you had your small room. And that is all you could ever hope for. Closing your eyes, you began to play softly, humming along with the melody. As you continued playing, you noticed your fingers were beginning to ache, but you didn't stop or slow down. You continued to play your deathly beautiful tune, feeling the song flow through your body.

You slowly opened your eyes again, your chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Setting down the violin, you dragged your heavy feet to your bed, falling down onto the scruffy quilts, you shut your eyes and fell asleep.

~~~

You didn't know how much time had passed, but you quickly opened your eyes and sat up in your bed when you heard footsteps at your door. One of the perks of being a light sleeper. You just hoped it wasn't that creepy man who wandered the dancer's room while they were away. Staring at the door, you waited, quietly, watching, only to furrow your eyebrows when a small letter slid under your door. Getting up, you walked over, picking up the letter. It was a soft creme color, with a dark red wax seal, imprinted with a skull. Ominous, yet beautiful. Unlatching your door, you quickly swung it open, only to find no one there. Narrowing your eyes, you hesitantly shut the door again, locking it, before sitting on your bed; the letter in your hands.

Sliding your finger under the envelope's seal, slowly breaking the wax and freeing the letter from it. Setting the envelope on your bed, you unfolded the letter, immediately impressed by the writer's handwriting.

"My dear, you played beautifully. Your talent is something that should be cherished, not hidden. I would love to hear more. - O.G."

Your eyes widened as you stared at those two simple letters. The Opera Ghost had written to you. Complimenting you, wanting to hear you play again. A thrill ran through your stomach. You hadn't expected someone like him to notice you, he was the one who indeed got Christine her role. Flipping the letter, you were surprised to find more writing.

"Meet me in Christine's dressing room."

Your eyes couldn't have widened anymore. Christine's dressing room? Why? Why would he want to meet there? What does he want? Shaking your head, you closed the letter and stood, tucking the letter back into its envelope. Whatever it was, you were too curious to not go. That was your one flaw, you were so intrigued by the Opera Ghost, not even Meg's ghost stories could change your views.

You hurried downstairs, making sure to lock your door behind you before heading downstairs. You paused outside Christine's dressing room, listening for voices, of which you heard none. Stepping inside, you froze. There was no one there. Was this a joke? You figured he would at least be waiting for you, but instead, it was completely empty. Slowly turning around, you found yourself face to face with the Opera Ghost. Hidden behind the large mirror, half of his face was covered with a white mask, cloaked in all black.

He raised his hand out towards you as the glass moved to the side. He held his hand out to you as his light blue eyes silently begged you to take it. Taking a step forward, you hesitantly reached for his outstretched hand. His gloved hand was cool and smooth as he pulled you closer, reaching around to pull you closer as well. You shivered as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close to himself. Looking down at you he whispered,

"Please don't be afraid, Y/N."

You couldn't look away from his eyes; the perfectly blue hues staring right back down at you. "You know my name?" You asked, voice soft, breathless even.

He chuckled, nodding his head. "I do."

"But why?" You questioned as he cupped your cheek.

His smile was blinding, piercing you with its beauty. "I have heard you play long before tonight. Almost every night you play to the ghosts of the opera house. And I've been watching you ever since then." His voice was so low, like silk against your skin.

"Why me? Why am I the one that you've shown your face to?" You asked, unable to look into his eyes, casting your gaze on his black shoes.

The Phantom gently cupped your chin, lifting your face to meet his eyes. "Because I can see you as clearly as if you were standing in front of me. I know how hard you have worked to get where you are today. From being left behind, to finding a place here. And I know you will continue to work hard. That is why I chose you."

You felt his warm breath against your neck as he spoke. "What do you mean?" You asked, tilting your head to the side slightly.

"I want you to audition for my next production." He said simply, "I want you to play my song. The one I wrote especially for you."

You blinked rapidly, trying to process what he'd just told you. "What?" You asked, unsure that you heard him correctly.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger there before he finally released you. "I'm sorry," he murmured, "I forgot myself. I'm going to take my leave, but please, think it over, my darling." He spoke, pressing a leather folder into your hands.

And, within a blink of an eye, he was gone. You stared into the dark hallway, before exiting the mirror passageway. The mirror slid behind you as you stared at the leather folder in your hands. Unclasping the leather clasp, you flipped it open, eyes scanning the notes on the lines. You began to hum along to the song as you slowly left Christine's dressing room, closing the door behind you.

Christine ran down the hall, holding the skirt of the dress in her hands. "Y/N! Did you hear- what's that?" She asked, noticing the leather folder in your hands.

You looked up at her and back down to the music sheets, closing it shut, "It's... Nothing... I have to go... Congratulations on your big night, Christine." You spoke hastily, before stumbling past her as she frowned, having recognized the leather folder in your hands. She was worried about you, and what the Phantom was planning.

#x female reader #x reader #fluff #slight angst #the phantom of the opera #the phantom of the opera 2004 #erik destler #erik destler x female reader #erik destler x reader #requested #requests #request