#That way ill feel productive hmmm | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

internalsealpanic · 3 years

Text

Monster Monster

I wholeheartedly blame this pic for the existence of this fic. I just wanna hug him and ruffle his hair.

Summary: Parent Teacher Conferences are very scandalous.

a/n: This is actually one of my few fics where reading some of my previous fics will help. I highly recommend reading Of Midnight Smoothies and Murder Mysteries to get a better feel on Dick and Reader’s relationship but anything on the Dick Grayson masterlist works too. Special thanks to @littleredwing89 and @americasmarauders for proofreading. Thanks to @littleredwing89 and @batarella for help with the ending.

warnings: A slur is mentioned but it gets shut down. Also, swearing.

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

“Tt, stop staring at me.”

You bite back a smile and what was probably a laugh rising in your throat. “Hmmm, no.” You hum, carding your fingers through Damian’s curls. The corners of your mouth twitch into a frown when you feel an angry bump against your fingers. It’s dry and there seems to be no break in the skin as far as you could tell. You let a little sigh of relief escape you which has the unintended consequence of upsetting the gremlin in front of you.

Damian attempts to swat your hand away, snarling as he did. You grin at him, all sharp teeth and pettiness. You, being childish, do not take your hand away and instead ruffle his hair more. An adorably petulant pout settles on Damian’s mouth making the kid look ten-years-old for once. It takes everything in you not to squeal in delight.

“Unhand me. I do not require your mothering and you would do very well to leave the scolding to Richard or Pennyworth.” You can easily picture Alfred scolding Damian but Dick? You try to picture Dick, hand on his hip, trying his damndest to be mean to the kid but you just couldn’t. Sure, Nightwing can be terrifying, even Batman but Dick? Especially with a kid? Not even feasible. You snort openly, the noise echoing in the deadly silent room. The woman on the other side of the room sitting next to a boy with a faceful of bruises and probably a couple of chipped teeth glares at you. Specifically, the woman scowls at your arm, skin festooned with bangles of coiled serpent tails and glittering blades. You fight the urge to stick your tongue out at her. Instead, you tug a bit at your sleeves, baring the golden lines streaked with old gashes. A low humorless laugh escapes you causing her scowl to deepen.

Damian follows your line of sight. His face folds in utter contempt. The boy next to her flinches. Their size difference made this all the funnier. “[What did he do?]” you ask in what you hope are the correct words in Arabic. Damian crosses his arms not meeting your gaze. His leg kicks out, the restlessness thrumming in his bones. “[Your accent is atrocious.]”

Your mouth twitches uncontrollably, edging into a fond smile. You tamp it down with a click of your tongue lest the little demon tear your head off. “[I’m out of practice, child,]” Damian grabs at a space beside him only for his hand to close on nothing. Something inside you dies when you stop yourself from cackling. Thank goodness, Bruce has--had--the good sense to take the kid’s katana away.

“[Anyway, what did he do?]”

“[How are you so sure he did something?]”

“[Because you’re a brat but not stupid. You are by far the most annoyingly reasonable child I have had the displeasure of conversing with.]” Damian’s eyes widened in surprise. It seems the assumed hatred was mutual. You watch as he folds his face back into a glower, not quite fast enough to evade your attention but certainly fast enough to fool the untrained eye. Unfortunately for him, you’re used to the acrobatics of faces, the chaotic cacophony of microexpression. Most people in your life are, after all, awful at broadcasting their feelings even when it was sorely needed. This is probably why you gravitated to Dick so easily. The man believed in openness, in communication.

Distantly, you can hear the woman across from you tap her foot impatiently against the carpet. A flick of your eye tells you she was sneering at both of you likely eavesdropping (and failing) on your conversation. Why she needs to know what you and a ten-year-old with a stick up his ass were talking about you weren’t sure. Damian turns his head slightly towards you, angling his chin upward to mask the uncertainty in his posture. “[If you must know, he-]”

“Gypsies”

The syllables ring like a loud staccato of gunshots despite how quietly she’d hissed it. You freeze. You can feel Damian stiffen right beside you. Understanding flowed into you molten and bubbling. You feel your throat itch, unkind words coalescing into a lump in your throat. You turn your body to Damian who was now still but you can feel the anger wicking off him. You sling your arm over the head of the chair behind him drawing his attention back to you.

He arches a brow at you, challenging. The expression falters when the next few words leave your mouth.

“[You’re off the hook.]”

Principal Jameson is a nasally man. It isn’t his anything to do with his voice. Though, you would be remiss to say that his voice was pleasant. You’re actually half tempted to turn your bad ear on him, block out the words coming from him but that would negate the point of you coming here. His voice isn’t that unpleasant but his entire demeanor rubbed you the wrong way. You’ve seen jellyfish with more backbone than this man. Then again, this might just be a by-product of your presence. Dick, and several other batbrats, have helpfully informed you that you were in fact pants pissing scary to civilians. You would like to say you couldn’t see it but standing in front of this man it was clear as day.

“Y/n L/n,” you offer congenially. His shoulders ease a fraction but did not offer you a hand. You smother a sigh before offering an additional “I believe Mr.Grayson-Wayne had informed you that I would be coming in his stead to discuss this-” Shit show, your mind supplies but thankfully, your mouth was quick enough to bite it back. “- incident.” Beside you Damian scoffed. You stop yourself from kicking the kid because that really would not do.

“Yes, well, Ma’am your-” Jameson halts frankly unsure of your relationship to Damian because of course, Dick would leave the leg work to your socially allergic ass. You make a mental note to kick him later. “- charge.” you supply, feeling a modicum of sympathy for the drowning man.Your eyes flick to Damian. His face is impassive, ire still directed at the thirteen-year-old sniveling behind his mother. The term is too cold for your taste but as of right now that’s all you were. Maybe you’ve finally found a Robin you wouldn't get attached to.

“Well, ma’am, you see your charge, Damian, he’s punched another student and has yet to even apologize. He even started a full on brawl.”

“Mhmm, I see,” you drawl tilting your head. You feel Damian stiffen at the ease of your response. You don’t have to look at his face to know that he was glaring at you with something in his eyes withering from the betrayal. The woman across from nods agreeably as if you had said something sensible. Jameson for his part nearly sighs with relief. You click your teeth a little irritable from their responses but more fascinated than anything. ‘I see’ is barely an answer but they each filled in the gaps with their own assumptions. “And has that young man over there apologized for what he said to Damian? Or for the lump on Damian’s head? Surely, you sent Damian to the clinic as well.” you voice out looking as scandalized as possible.

The room froze.

Your eyes will probably roll into the back of your head before your meeting is done. Judging from Jameson’s posture, they didn’t. They should have at least checked if the kid had a concussion. A familiar sort of ire rose in you. Oh boy, you’re going to have a field day with these people. You sigh in exasperation before continuing. “Not only did you neglect to send him to the clinic to check on the lump on his head, but you were also planning to let the other boy off the hook?” you accuse, voice rising with some effort. Your voice has a tendency to draw low when your temper is flaring. It’s an intimidation tactic you'd learned from a while ago. It would probably be ill advised to use it on a man who looked like he was a second away from a heart attack.

Jameson leans forward, reaching out appeasingly.“Ma’am, we-”

“From what I recall, Gotham Academy has a strict zero tolerance policy on derogatory language, does it not?” You cut him off, voice suddenly vicious. You shift your body in front of Damian putting yourself between him and everyone else in the room. He bristles at the gesture but you and your habits aren’t exactly concerned with his pride.

“Ma’am I-“

“I rest my case. Please, feel free to contact Mr.Grayson-Wayne if you have more to say.” You settle a hand on Damian’s shoulder. You’re surprised he didn’t fight you or swat your hand away. Taking it as permission, you pull him closer to you as you leave the red faced woman and the paling man gob smacked and silent. Damian himself doesn’t make the sound as you made your way down the hall. You squeeze his shoulder gently hoping it comes across as a reassuring gesture. His posture does not loosen but you do not let him stray from you. You close your eyes as the elevator doors shut.

“I did not require your assistance.”

“I know.” Of course, he doesn’t. He is a Robin and an Al Ghul but that doesn’t mean he isn’t gonna get it. You drum your fingers against the steering wheel, the dull beat only serving to irritate your nerves. You swear the traffic in Gotham was somehow infinitely worse than everywhere else in the world even with working traffic lights. Maybe that’s why there were so many crazy people here. Maybe Bruce should have invested his money on better roads. Maybe-

Your eyes slide towards Damian who is somehow shrinking and pressing into the side door. Still, his face is twisted skeptically and braced for a continuation to your statement. You looked heavenward not even hiding the weariness in your smile. The brat is truly a bat-- suspicion and all. You turn your body towards him, opening up your posture. You fold your leg and rest your chin on your arm. Damian meets your gaze head on, looking imperious as he crosses his arms over his chest. His posture is artificial, probably uncomfortable from the weight of your attention.

You roll your shoulders and reshape your features, reconfiguring yourself from understanding to teasing. “I know. I know but you see, they needed telling off and your tiny gremlin ass isn’t scary enough. And, I promise I won’t tell Dickolas that you defended him so vehemently.” you wink, a conspiratorial grin spreading across your face. Damian straightens, his body is bowed like he was about to spring for your throat but the shape his limbs took on was more natural and seemingly relaxed. The knot in your shoulder loosens. You reach over and ruffle his hair again. He really is still a kid. You stare each other down. Your smile is as unwavering as his glower.

Both of your stomachs grumble. The sound was loud and abrasive in the closed space of the car. You check your watch and hum, shifting back into your seat. Wordlessly, you switch on your signal light.

You leaf through the pages of the thoroughly used book in your hands, eyes skimming through the blocks of texts not really absorbing any of it. You never really found the appeal in fiction. The stories are too neat compared to what you experienced daily. You suppose there is simplicity in them but you find that in nonfiction, the kind of books that explained the mechanics of things. They made sense of the world and were much more useful in your opinion. You’re much more interested in the messy scribbles on the margins, the etchings of a loud mind on yellowing pages. Jason’s notes were written in the same tone of voice he used when he spoke, deceptively layman but upon further inspection was frighteningly insightful. You smile at the little comments and complaints, the snarky little remarks. Remnants of the little boy he had been before. You frowned. You should probably give this back to him once you have the chance and maybe come up with some excuse of why you still have it. Or you can just keep it.

You look up at Damian who is drumming his fingers impatiently against the lacquered table. His posture is artificially relaxed, likely something he learned from the league or maybe all nervous gremlins do it. You look down at the book again. The sight reminds you of Jay. You tip your head, the loud thunk of your skull is felt more than heard since it was your bad ear that is pressed against the glass. The sound startles Damian who was deep in thought. You hold out the book to him. He must be bored waiting for your order. He pointedly ignores you.

"I don't need that childish drivel." He snipes. You click your teeth feeling a little defensive of the book.

You sound exactly like your grandfather, you think but have enough sense to keep it to yourself. No child needs to be compared to Ra's Al Ghul even if he is a brat.

"Not a fan of-" You look at the book's spine and frown. "-Robert Stevenson?" What kind of dork reads Robert Stevenson for fun? Oh wait, it's the same dork that quotes Shakespeare while bashing heads.

"I have no need for such things."

Of course, he didn’t.

"No, I suppose you don't need anything with the actual text but the margins are quite fascinating." You hold out the book to him again. His eyebrows shoot up looking at you skeptically as he reaches for it. There is no actual written indication that it was Jay's and the kid likely hasn't spent enough time with Jay to actually tell from the way it's written. You look out the window to turn your good ear to him, listening for any reactions he might have. Every now and then you hear a huff of amusement. You smother the smile threatening to form on your lips with your hand.

"Well, the person who owned this certainly had a lot to say." Damian says carefully, handing the book back.

"Jay really was a mouthy kid."

Damian looks at you, little face scrunching up in confusion. You suddenly notice just how easily the booth swallows him up. Why is he so tiny? "If this is Todd's, why do you have it?"

You clasp the book in your hands, your thumb tracing over the creases. "He leant me this book shortly before he died. He-- Well, I told him that I wasn't fond of adventure stories. I prefer books about science and culture. They're much more useful, yanno?" Damian gives a slight nod. You relax into your seat with his understanding. "Well, he thought it was just that I've never read a good one so he gave me this one. Never quite finished it though." you admit a little sheepish after realizing just how sentimental you felt. Your eyes trace over Damian's expression. It's clear that the sentimentality bled through your words and some childish part of you winces at the vulnerability of it. Damian says nothing and doesn't even sneer in derision.

You hum, the tune musical but offkey. “Jason, actually did what you did today awhile ago.” Just like that you begin down a rabbit hole telling the little gremlin about all the stupid shit the older bats have gotten into. And oh boy, there’s a lot.

“So do either of you want to explain what happened and why GAs headmaster called me sounding like he was gonna piss himself?”

“Hmmm, probably not ” you say around your spoonful of mahalabia, not even looking up from your book. Hilariously enough, Damian had also elected to leave Dick’s presence unacknowledged and busy with his own mahalabia. Dick scoot into your side of the booth, purposefully squishing you against the wall with a shiteating grin. He loops his arm around you and pulls you closer, planting a sloppy kiss on your cheek. You blanch and push half heartedly at his chest as he laughs. That laugh makes your heart warm and a relenting smile spreads across your features softening them. Your body twitches forward to kiss but you still when Dick freezes instead you plant a kiss on his cheek as well. Dick relaxes at the familiarity of it and you two settle down.

Damian stares at both of you befuddled. A heat creeps up your cheeks realizing that Dick is practically sitting on you. Dick, on the other hand, seems perfectly content with your current lack of personal space, so you leave it alone despite the incredulous look Damian is giving both of you. Dick snatches up your spoon taking a heap from your dessert. You make an offended noise in the back of your throat which he simply answers with another broad smile. Your lip twitches uncontrollably and your shoulders go slack.

“So what happened?”

You and Damian exchange a look. Damian rolls his eyes at you and you shrug at him performatively. “Nothing.” you two say in a chorus of nonchalance. It only succeeds in annoying Dick, so it was partially successful.

Dick pouts taking another bite of your desert. You stare in disbelief as the grownass man sitting next to you attempts to give you the puppy dog eyes as he eats your desert. You sign on exasperation because it's working and the bastard knows it. Richard John Grayson-Wayne is a manipulative asshole and you are a certified sucker.

You turn to Damian pleadingly begging him to please either help you or end you. Instead, he simply looks the two as if searching for an answer to a question forming in his mind. You run your hand over your face ready to concede when something clicks.

"Man-Bat got into GA and Damian fought him off." you say, praying Dick would catch on to the game. For a terrifying moment, he doesn’t. He blinks at you in confusion and your stomach sinks then a smile slowly spreads across his face lighting up every feature. Your heart swells at the sight.

"Bullshit. What was Man-Bat doing in GA?"

"Dunno,maybe bullying students. I don't know what bat creatures get up to." you say grinning. The picture becomes clear from every outlandish story. To your surprise, Damian joins in with a few vague details of his own giving even more details than you'd initially gathered.

Lunch passes pleasantly with outlandish stories and good food.

“NEWS: Dick Grayson-Wayne, New Face of Wayne Enterprises, Caught in a Torrid Love Affair with a Mystery Woman. Who Could this Exotic Beauty Be?”

“NEWS: Young Wayne Heir Being Extorted by Mystery Woman?”

“NEWS: Wayne Heir with Secret Family?”

Dick wants to evaporate somehow. He stares at the headlines mortified beyond what he ever thought possible. Maybe the floor will be merciful and it’ll finally swallow him as Jason reads another headline in a ridiculous newsreel voice.

“No, no wait. This one is fucking priceless!”

“Jason, please, I am begging you. STOP.” Dick whines, his face flattening against his work table. Tim shrugs, an amused smile adorns his face. Dick is going to scream. “Tim, please please please, make him stooop.” Tim ignores Dick in favor of scrolling through his own tablet looking, frankly unsympathetic.

“Oh a tryst!”

“Jason, you are making it sound so much worse.”

“Dunno, big bird, some of these make it sound like you fucked her over a table in the restaurant.” Jason watches in absolute delight as his older brother attempts to merge with the work bench, the tanned skin of his neck and ears burning a bright shade of crimson. Tim snickers, unhelpfully. Dick loved that his younger brothers were getting along for once. He just hated that for some reason they just had to be united against him. “All I did was kiss her on the cheek and eat her food.”

Jason gasps theatrically, feigning fainting. “Premarital kissing?! Dick, how could you? What’s next? Premarital hand holding? Think of the children.” Jason exclaims, dramatically pointing to Damian who at this point had been ignoring the ruckus Jason was causing.

“Jason, you’re awful and you’re being extremely dramatic.”

“Dick, you don’t exactly have any room to talk in that department.”

“Yeah, Mr. Pretty Man Down, Baby Bird has a point.” Jason says smugly as he offers Tim a fist bump which Tim reciprocates by shaking Jason's fist, a joking smile on his face. Jason snorts as if getting the joke or whatever movie reference this was from.

Tim's face folds into a barely held back smile. The laughter bubbling in the back of his throat straining his features. “I will say it is really funny that they didn’t recognize Damian.”

“You know how they are. They probably came up with something like the whole Damian being Bruce’s kid was actually just a cover up for Dick.” Somewhere in the background Damian makes a very displeased noise but Dick can't be bothered to lift his head to check.

“Please no. That doesn’t even-”

“Here’s one, NEWS: Dick Grayson-Wayne’s Baby Mama? Who is this mysterious woman?” Tim reads out flatly.

“The PR team is going to kill me. No, wait. Y/n is going to kill me first.”

“She won’t. She probably finds this hilarious.”

“How would she even find this funny?”

“Well, she does enjoy your suffering- Oh shit. This one might piss her off.” Jason clears his throat, sliding back into the newsreel voice. “DICK GRAYSON, HANDSOME PLAYBOY - WITH YET ANOTHER GIRLFRIEND - WILL HE EVER SETTLE DOWN?”

Dick is half tempted to throw his own tablet at the wall. What did he do to deserve this? You certainly don’t.

“Hey, at least, they called you handsome.” Tim laughs placatingly. It doesn’t work, of course.

Dick looks up at his little brother ruefully. “Oh yeah because the stuff about my looks was definitely the issue.”

“Well considering your morning routine...”

“I haven’t even been on a date so who are these other girlfriends?!”

“Well, me and Jason thought the same thing.” Tim shoots down sneering. When did his sweet baby brother turn to the dark side? Likely, Jason’s influence but deep down he knows Tim has always been capable of evil. Jason is cackling proudly.

“I don't see why you're concerning yourself with this drivel.” Damian says, swiping the tablet right in front of Dick forcing him to look up. Dick smiles at him wearily. “Dami, it’s a little hard when a photo of me kissing y/n on the cheek is plastered everywhere with weird headlines.” Damian tilts his head considering it but he shakes his head muttering something about pointlessness.

“Goddammit, Disco Stick!” The sound of your voice ringing out into the bunker sends their banter crashing to a halt. Dick feels his heart jump to his throat. He-- This was how he was going to die and for once he wasn’t sure he deserved it or not. You stand at the doorway haloed in bright light. At least, his angel of death would be the prettiest one, he thinks-- all the oxygen leaving his lungs.

Crumpled in your fist was a newspaper. Dick can feel his brothers take a step back as you draw near. Your footfalls were as steady as a pulse which made Dick’s own heart rate ratchet up. Your face is carefully impassive the way it always is when your anger was dosed with something else. Dick is sincerely hoping Jason is right about you being amused by the headlines.

You stop in front of him, eyes narrowed and jaw tight. You glower down at him frankly looking murderous before you snort and your face breaks into a smile. The thick tension in the air dissipates and the room releases its collective breath. The smile on your face grows even brighter. Nope, this is how Dick dies, his breath catching in his lungs as his mind fizzes out from the sight of your smile.

“I’m sorry?” Dick lifts himself off the table just barely, still bracing for any sudden wave of anger that will, justifiably, roll over you at some point.

You lean your body on to the spot next to him, letting the table support your weight. Straightening the newspaper in your hands, you frown. “I look terrible in this.”

“You look beautiful.” Dick blurts out. You raise your brow at him incredulously. Jason folds over trying to hold back laughter, his shoulders trembling. Tim just shrinks from second hand embarrassment.

“No, she is correct. She looks repulsive.” Damian says flatly as he snatches the paper from you.

You let out a breathy laugh. “To be fair, anyone would look repulsive next to professional pretty boy Dickie Wayne.” There was no sharpness in your teasing. You look at the photo over Damian’s shoulder. It was a cute photo actually. Dick’s arm loops around your shoulder as he gives you a kiss on your cheek as Damian blanches at Dick’s very public display of affection. It was hilariously easy to see where they got the idea that you two were a couple. You weren’t. You haven’t been for awhile. The thought wrenches something a dull ache inside you. You flatten your lips preventing the edges from dipping into a frown.

A look crosses between Jason and Tim. Tim leans over, asking in a hushed whisper, “I thought they were back together.”

“Dunno they act like it.” Jason shrugs watching your movement. As if to prove his point, you and Dick lean into each other’s space as you bicker about the merits of Gothamite photographers. Jason is half tempted to shove you two together.

“What are you two talking about?” You ask, finally leaning away from Dick.

“Nothing-”

“They were pondering the state of your relationship. I myself have been pondering it.”

For a moment, your eyes meet. For a moment, you are back in a drab hotel in Moscow. For a moment, you are crying your heart out in his arms trying to push him away.

You click your teeth and stare Damian in the eyes not entirely sure what kind of emotions they were betraying. “We were a thing.” Damian’s brow shoots up. You hear someone’s hand slap against their forehead.

You flush wanting to disappear but hold your stance. You hear Dick chuckle beside you as he stands shoulder to shoulder with you. Something in you eases with the closeness, like a gap being filled. “We used to be a couple.” Dick supplies, saving you from your flailing. You tap your finger against the back of his hand as a silent thank you. He taps yours twice in reciprocation. You look down trying to hide a smile.

Jason and Tim look at each other again and nod.

“We should probably go.” Jason says carrying Damian under his arm.

“Todd, unhand me! We are not done here!”

“We’ll see you two later.” Tim waves giving Dick a knowing smile. Dick’s heart jumps up to his throat while his stomach drops to the floor. Is this really the time for his brother’s to play cupid?

You lean in, letting your body press into Dick’s side as you listen to their footsteps fade away. Your head settling on his shoulder hand bracing you against the workbench. You let the stillness settle and make everything around you more solid.

Dick shifts a bit, his fingers lacing in with yours. The gesture makes your heart twinge, the chasm in your chest yawning with longing. You swallow. The air is thick with unspoken words like smoke clogging up your lungs. You think that if you could just pluck the right one out of thin air, you could clear the air.

‘I love you’ itches in the back of your throat but what right did you have to say that to him even after all this time.

Beside you, Dick is smiling and relishing your presence. The silver glint of your earring winking at him from beneath your hair. He had gotten you that on your first date, a little souvenir you got to commemorate the occasion.

Dick pivots in front of you making your breath catch. His free hand brushing your hair behind your ear revealing the silver robin on your ear. Silver robins. You had at the time laughed at the absurdity of it but here they were years later. Dick’s hands settle on either side of you boxing you in against the table. Even when he’s got you trapped like this, you feel at ease knowing Dick would never hurt you. Dick leans his forehead against yours, his fingers still intertwined with yours. Your pulse is loud in your ears. You lean your forehead against his, eyes sliding close soaking up the contact.

“It’s always been you.” Dick says breathlessly. The words do not register, too dreamlike in their conception. You always hoped and wished that you could take it back, that you had never left, that he would love you the same way he did before but you were never foolish enough to hold on to things like that with both hands. Yet here Dick was whispering things that you only let yourself dream of.

“It’s always been you.” He repeats as if the repetition could make it more real. You swallow the lump in your throat trying to find your voice but you’re afraid that once you speak, the room would catch fire and the dream would dissolve into harsh reality.

Dick gently cups your face and for a moment you let yourself be lost in the sea of blue. The stinging in your eyes makes you blink even if you don’t want to. You lick your lips as if somewhere on them were the right words.

You can’t even fathom the combination of words that could encapsulate the cocktail of longing and love you felt for him.

Your tongue darts out, wetting your bottom lip as your eyes focus on his lips. You swallow again your throat feeling thick even as you lean into his space, pushing off the work bench. Your nose rubbing against his, his long lashes fluttering against your cheek and tickling your skin. Dick leans in, his lips on yours, the pressure barely enough to make contact. You twitch forward, lips melting against his. The world around you stills and disintegrates leaving only him in its wake.

The kiss is all tender softness, a promise of love and loyalty quietly exchanged between you. A delicate push and pull. Undemanding yet uncompromising in its gentle intensity.

You both pull back, only barely. Your skins still thrum with hunger for contact. Dick leans in again, his lips brushing against yours making them tingle at the sensation. Murmured breaths exchanged between you. This time you both find the right words.

Dick turning to reader seeing the familiar glint of her earing

“I still love you.”

--------------------

I was thinking it was just them in the cave standing next to each others fingers twining with each other leaning into each other's space

he brushes the strands of her hair away

After brushing her hair away he presses his forehead against hers and he just kind of comes out with it

like he'd been holding back on saying it but couldn't anymore

Why not have the reader do something like this?

What if she nudges her nose against his? Or rubs her nose against his, like an Eskimo kiss? And it’s silent, her eyelashes flutter against his cheek. They say in Inuit, when you feel eyelashes stroke on your skin like that, it’s a way of saying “I love you” without actually saying it.

And maybe Dick knows that? Without her actually saying the words and he just smiled and captures her lips in a delicate kiss. And when they pull back, they both say it at the same time against each other’s lip, all hushed and murmured?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for reading!

Taglist: @batarella , @anothertimdrakestan , @lucy-roo , @multifandomgirl-us , @idkmanicantenglish ,@birdy-bat-writes , @boosyboo9206 , @americasmarauders , @l-inkage , @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay , @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #Damian Wayne #batboys x reader #batfamily x reader #damian wayne x sister!reader #dc x reader #dc reader insert #merc!reader

528 notes · View notes

bump1nthen1ght · 3 years

Text

Sick Day (Demon x Reader)

Pairing: Gender Neutral Reader/ Non-Binary Demon

Genre: Urban fantasy, Domesticity, Established relationship

Warnings: Mentions of sickness (fevers, body chills, headaches), but nothing graphic

Word Count: 2008 words

Summary: Your demon partner isn’t sure how to play doctor

A/N: Based of this prompt by @monsterkinkmeme

“It’s the first time you’ve dated a demon and it’s also the first time you’ve gotten sick since you’ve been together. A fever paired with a throbbing headache has you hiding in bed for most of the day, trying to sleep whatever bug you caught, off. Your demon lover, on the other hand, is beside themselves and has turned to Google and WebMD on how best to take care of you. They now think you are dying because of your symptoms and are devising a way to save you.”

The minute I saw this prompt I was immediately awash with PINING for a large demon partner to cuddle with and I knew I had to write it.

A week after finals, 7 months into your relationship with Motholg, your immune system gives up.

You had been leaving work, thinking the heat in your cheeks and the ache in your bones was a product of a 6 hour shift, walking to Motholg’s apartment for date night. The past two week had you cooped up, anxious and studying, meaning you barely were able to make time for your partner.

You probably should have expected it, it’s happened every finals week since high school; A couple days into break you get a high fever and are stuck in your bed for a solid 48 hours. But you thought that, perhaps, this year was the exception. After nearly passing out when handing Motholg their fresh-made lasagna, you knew you weren’t so lucky.

“Darling?”

You groan from your blanket burrito, eyes and sweaty forehead barely peeking into the dim light of Motholg’s bedroom. The thought of forming a coherent thought makes your brain pound, so you don’t even try.

“I’ve made you some...uh…”

The door creaks open, Motholg automatically ducking their head so their long horns don’t hit the frame. Their red, slitted eyes narrow at something steaming in a teacup. “Yas-mine? Jasmeen? Uh-some herbal remedy I ordered from your virtual shopkeep. It was touted by several women named “Brenda” to be the best thing for human illnesses.” Motholg’s hooves tap against the floor, just below the line of “too loud” for your migraine. You give another non-committal hum as they sit down on the bed. Despite being custom-made for their 7-foot stature, the bedframe still creaks under their weight. The top of your blanket sarcophagus is pulled back, revealing your disgruntled face.

Motholg helps you prop yourself up and hands you the teacup. You take a sip, quickly realizing it’s still quite hot, but power through anyway. The scalding water melts from your mouth down to your toes, abating your shivers, if only temporarily.

As you drink, Motholg’s fingers card through your messy hair, massaging your skull before resting their palm on your cheek. Their hand covers almost the entire side of your head, spotting a glimpse of a frown between their fingers.

“You’re even hotter than before and still quite sweaty. Would you like me to take the blankets?”

You shake your head, setting down your cup of tea.

“No, it’s probably just my fever breaking. It’s actually a good sign, despite how shitty I feel.” The warmth of your cocoon is beckoning you, your exposed chest and arms already shivering. “The blankets are good for my chills, but a big glass of ice water would be nice.”

Motholg raises an eyebrow, clearly perturbed by your backwards human symptoms. But they pat your head once more before sitting up.

“Of course, dear.” Motholg leans down to kiss your forehead, but is intercepted by the palm of your hand.

“Uh-uh, I don’t need you getting sick too.” Motholg scrunches up their face, then blows a raspberry into your skin. You retaliate by pushing away their face feebly.

“As if your human illness could fell me darling.” The sigh dramatically, pushing your hand away. “Though you are very sweet to think it could.”

You stick out your tongue and shove them. Motholg relents, blowing a kiss as they back out of the bedroom.

Your brain is beginning to drift into sleep when a glass clinks on the nightstand. Not bothering to open your eyes, far too tired, you mutter a “Thank you.” Motholg whispers a “You’re welcome,” as they lay on the bed once more. Their warm fur tickles your neck as they cuddle up behind you, arm thrown around your side and nuzzling their face into your hair. A hot breath and a slight nip of their extended canines only wills you to dreamland faster.

Motholg won’t go to sleep, only needing a full 8 hours every 4 days, but are rather content to lay beside you. They lovingly stroke your arm and sidle farther down under the comforter, whispering occasional sweet nothings and rocking you into unconsciousness.

--------

The dull red of the bedside clock pries open your eyes, a stark contrast compared to the pitchblack of the bedroom. Your brain is still in a fog, but given then the 3 AM flashing nearby, you’ve been asleep for about 9 hours.

And I’m about to sleep 9 more.

Motholg had left the bed at some point, but their warmth still lingers on the blankets. You close your eyes and snuggle in.

Slam!

But then the door slams open.

On a normal night, the noise might’ve jerked you upright , but your eyes simply roll over to the doorway. Your brain already misses unconsciousness.

Motholg stands, their new smartphone in hand as they breathe heavily.

“Darling, what did you say your body temperature was?”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, slowly giving up on those peaceful 9 hours.

“99.7 last time I checked.” You tap your forehead with the back of your hand. “Probably less now. The sleep has been helping a lot. Good night.”

In an instant, Motholg is over to the bed, placing their hand on your forehead. You let out a disappointed sigh and try to go back to sleep anyways. The click of their hooves on hardwood, Motholg’s jittering shakes of your shoulder, and the strong smell of iron quickly eliminates that as a possibility.

You turn towards your partner, now noticing the sheen of liquid covering their hands. Red streaks follow their fingertips on their smartphone.

“Babe, why are your hands soaked in blood?”

“Goat’s blood, technically.”

Before you can even respond to that baffling answer, Motholg grabs your shoulder. The blood sticks to the short sleeves of your pajamas.

Damn, now I’ll have to wash this tomorrow.

“Here, it says the ritual-”

“The what?”

“-needs to be completed at 3:30 AM on a new moon.” Motholg pauses, checks their phone, then continues, “Yes, a new moon.”

Motholg begins to walk away, your arm still in their grip, but your resistance stalls them.

“Okay, Motholg, you’re scaring me. What’s going on? How the hell did you get goat’s blood at this hour?”

Motholg sighs and rolls their eyes, “Unimportant-”

You give Motholg a dissatisfied look, finally making them relent in heir tirade. They turn towards you.

“I fear for your life. I’ve consulted your online physician and your symptoms fall in line with many fatal illnesses.”

Now accepting that this is officially a conversation, you throw back your blankets and sit up.

“Do you mean WebMD?”

Motholg nods furiously and shows you their phone screen, tapping the glass with a long claw.

“See here? Full body chills are associated with pneumonia, so is a high fever. There’s also the possibility something is wrong with one of your organs. Not surprising, considering how squishy they are.” Motholg flicks their screen upward, a myriad of diagrams flips across it.

“Now, I know a couple of ceremonies my father used to perform to curse others with these illnesses, so I thought if I reversed the procedure-” Motholg pauses again, flipping to a new tab on their phone, “-So, I did some googling-”

Motholg pauses when your hand rests against their cheek. Their red eyes, which glow just slightly in the dark, look to you. You brush your thumb across their face, just barely grazing against the fur which starts at the base of their neck.

“Darling, I appreciate the concern really, I do. But these websites…” you pause, slowly pushing Motholg’s phone down and out of eyesight, “They really only show worst case scenarios. Honestly, they kind of just scare you into going to a doctor in person.”

Motholg’s eyes dart between your face and their phone, now pressed face down on their bed. They give off an aura of anxiety and stress, their hands fidgety and their hooves lightly tapping against the floor. “Here,” You pull up the covers, opening up the spot next to you. “Do you want to lie down with me for a while?”

“Oh, I don’t need to rest.”

“Just because your body doesn’t require it doesn't mean it won’t feel good. C’mon.” You pat the bed. “I think it will give you some peace of mind, keeping an eye on me.”

Motholg’s eyes shifted back to their phone, their brow furrowed. You pout your lips and slide your fingers up their chest. Their fur sticks and tussles under your touch.

“Babe, I would feel better if you relax, seriously.” You reach down to the bedside drawer, pulling out your sleep mask. “You can even bring your computer and get some work done.”

Hesitantly, they nod. You sigh in relief. Their hand unconsciously twirls your hair.

“I suppose….You would know about these things.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Motholg leaves to get their things, while you slip back under the covers. Before you put your sleep mask on, you shout to them.

“Make sure to wash that blood off!” You look down at your damp sleeve. “And could you get me a wet wipe as well?”

Motholg makes an affirmative noise, and you finally lay back and close your eyes.

Their body heat lingers above your as they sweetly wipe away the blood on your arm. You mutter a thank you. The bed dips as they down next to you, mattress bending as they adjust their laptop and fluff the pillows.

“Darling?”

“Hmmm?” You murmur, face still stuffed in your pillow.

“I just wanted to apologize for waking you. I feel very foolish for acting so paranoid.”

You flip your head to their side, keeping your mask on.

“No need to apologize, I get it.”

“Thank you for your understanding, but still, I feel so silly. To think a tiny sickness would force my emotions to overcome me.”

You slowly push up your mask, eyes peeking out from under the duvet. Motholg sheepishly picks at their keyboard, avoiding your eyes,

As disgruntled as it made you at first, Motholg’s droopy gaze stirred guilt in your gut. You wonder how many scenarios had run through their head while they googled, how helpless they must’ve felt. There might be a hole paced into the floor of the living room, given how flustered they were when they barged in.

You reach out to Motholg’s wrist, brushing your thumb over the back of their palm. Their red irises look over, and you think you see the tinies remnants of tear tracks at the corner of their eyes.

“Emotions aren’t a bad thing, they’re natural.” Grabbing the top of the blanket, you roll over to Motholg’s side. Their large body dwarfs yours and when you curl up against them, the tips of your feet barely meet the top of their calves. Their black fur is soft against your face, like a mixture of a plush carpet and a goosefeather pillow.

Oh good, they used the Tea Tree soap.

“I’d probably do the same if you got sick.” You reach your hand up to their chest, cording through their thick fur. “We’re just gonna have to trust the other’s okay, huh?”

With your chin tucked into their ribs, Motholg smiles down at you. A claw runs up the back of your neck, stirring up goosebumps but relaxing your muscles.

“I believe so, darling.” Their fangs jut out from their lips as they continue to rub your neck. It’s quite goofy looking, for a demon, and gets a chuckle out of you.

You crane your neck and Motholg meets you halfway for a kiss, consequences be damned.

“Good night, I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetling.”

You fall asleep with Motholg’s fingers curled in your hair, the slight tap of their claws on the keys, a simmering contentment in your heart.

--------

A week later, when you’re back to full health, you and Motholg are making dinner when-

“Ah-choo!”

You stop stirring the pasta and furrow your brows at Motholg. They’ve stilled, mid-movement while setting out the plates. Their face burns with embarrassment.

“A silly human sickness, huh?”

#monster romance #my writing #demon x reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #monster/reader #fluff #domestic #monster x reader

275 notes · View notes

mimibtsghost7 · 3 years

Note

Fuck you and all your little brain washed rats sending people hate because you cant take responsibility for your actions!! But go on stay silent like you always do, pretend its nothing of your business, keep being a fetishizing racist delulu like you love to be while pretending to be the best blog on tumblr!!!

NOT like anyone will see this but YOU will so LET’S GOOO!!!~~

TW: mental health and more (if you feel like this can trigger you, pls don’t read this, breathe in and out and listen to this HERE and remember I love you), loads of tea and Mimi NOT being a friendly and kind ghost.

funny enough:

I never pretended of said I was the best blog. But I guess the fact that you say it might be because you heard it frequently? Thanks for thinking so^^

I sent hate to no one and u r the one sending it to me rn ^^ In my whole 4 year journey on Tumblr I received a lot of love but also worse hate that you can imagine. Yes you are saying now you are receiving hate ... funny how it’s bad when It’s addressed to you but when it’s at me and my dear followers it is not. Still, I never told anyone to go hate on you. You were the idiot that tagged my old blog and as soon as my blog was gone pple searched me and found out you were the reason behind this. But as you keep hating on me. Let me tell you I am kind but don’t mistake that for me being a coward.

I am not into insulting others and I don’t care much if you insult me. BUT don’t YOU DARE touch my dear followers. Insulting ain’t hard. Let me try: The only rat here is you hiding in your hole as an anon. I went and compared your writing with this ask and previous hate asks. And it was you~ Good for you~ the sewers smell just like your filthy mouth spilling sh*t left and right. So on brand. However, I know who you are @hobisbeautifulass Hi ^^

Me racist? HAHAHAHAH you truly know NOTHING about me nor my ex-blog’s message. It was a place when you were welcomed no matter your skin color, religion, gender ... proof? well it got deleted thanks to you. but ask around this time and search for who reblogged my posts as they were always the top of the tags (even if I don’t trust how bad you are at research). I supported the BLM movement and still do and will always do but I did so veeery early without anyone telling me. Not for the notes but because of my humanity. I wished my dear followers’ happy holidays no matter their religions. And never cared about those things. Why judge someone on something based on religion or how they were born. As for the LGBTQ+ community, I was always and will always be there for love being love. I talked about mental health and opened venting nights. I helped left and right and when I was receiving hate because of people like you spitting lies about me. What did I do? Did I go online and called people bad? No. I looked back at myself and asked myself if I did anything wrong. I tried to educate myself and apologized sincerely when I had to. I read books and watched documentaries to learn how to become a better human. AND never repeated a mistake twice. You tend to forget that our cultures are different and sometimes you grow up to see some things as normal when they are not. This is not an excuse tho, so I always believed that I was lacking and if someone had something to say against me, there is a chance they are right and just in case I should reflect on myself. But for your case it was pure nonsense. ME? a stalker? how can I stalk when I have social anxiety and at that time couldn’t even leave my room? I am even afraid of taking public transportations and just the other days I was crying from joy when I took a taxi alone. they said I was in Japan stalking Jimin and Jungkook and took a pic when I was NEVER EVER was on that land. You put me on the same list as people who bought info about BTS’ flights to be on the same plane as them? I was stalked before and let me tell you it ain’t cute and fun. I am even scared of the idea of being followed. that’s why I never shared openly my age, country, or anything about me on my blog. that’s why I have no personal social media to this day and that’s why making my ex-blog was some sort of miracle in my life.

Silent? yes I was silent when I received hate and didn’t even vent to my dear followers or pointed fingers. Why? because I thought as my day was hell I shouldn’t make anyone’s day worse. I was worried about my dear followers with mental illnesses being triggered. I tried to take my life so many times I lost count but I still came here and smiled. It was my safe place and you took it away. Yet, I should pity you? You hated on me first for no reason and you know it deep inside but right now you are trying to convince yourself that you are the angel and feel no guilt. Compared to you. I pointed fingers at no one and didn’t name you when my blog was gone. Why? because compared to you, I thought you will not be able to manage the hate and what was done .. I didn’t want you to suffer the same way I did when you are the one who made me suffer the most the past couple of days. But the kind Mimi is someone you will never remember because you dared touch the friends I love and calling them names. I don’t mind people insulting me but don’t you dare touch my people. I know myself best. My dear friends/followers know me best. I thought ... I could leave without this mess but you keep barking in my ask box and it’s annoying. I left this backup account just to talk to my friends and yet you are here to ruin things again? I should stop being kind to the ones who deserve non of it. I ignored you when I had so many followers and you went silent too because you were scared of me. But as soon as I lost my blog because of you, you went, edited and then reblogged that stalker post. How can I be a stalker? do you even know the definition of a stalker? do you even know shame? well .. I don’t think so.. you said it yourself. You are NOT ashamed (and you reblogged that so many time lol).

Death threats? this is no competition but thanks to people like you I have been there and wish no one to be there not even you. The only difference is that you almost killed me for real. You were not the sole reason? Great job walking away from you beloved word: RESPONSIBILITY. And I didn’t get just anon hate, I got literal tagging by people like you, DMs, and people pointing guns at me. That’s why I didn’t mention you. I was worried about the one who took away what I worked for for 4 YEARS. I was more sad and concerned about the ARMY fandom here. Do you know how many rely on my updates? do you know how many people said I helped them? do you know any of that? do you think 200k people were “rats”? Do you think if I did and say wrong thing I will not be questioned by those people. I always told my dear followers: “friends, if I do or say anything wrong or share anything that hurts anyone please tell me. I am willing to learn from everyone.” But what did you know? what did you do? Well .. guess you love notes? As the most notes you ever got and the most attention was when talking about me?

Love how you talk about fetishing when my blog was what people call “family friendly”. I also like BTS. I love them for their music, talent, personalities and the happiness they give me. I also enjoy BTS’ bond and love their interactions. I posted content of all kinds of interactions JM X JK, JK X V, V X JIN, JIN X SG, SG X JH, JH X RM, RM X JM ... If you are calling this fetishing asian men just because I scream over BTS as a fan and love their bonb. Then aren’t you against the idea of being an ARMY? I was a clear OT7 and you were told that you weren’t right:

Then you answered this without even explaining the nonsense about me:

idk .. I am trying to find sense in your nonsense so .. wait wait let me look at the definition of fetishism first.

Fetishism /ˈfɛtɪʃɪz(ə)m/ noun: a form of sexual behavior in which gratification is linked to an abnormal degree to a particular object, activity, part of the body, etc.

Then .. judging from your URL alone hmmm ... cute. I won’t even talk about the SMUT you write that is full of kinks and fetishism. Well I have no problem with fan fiction but the irony you spit is out of this world.

Also, I made money out of mimibtsghost? HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH no lil one. I worked day and night for FREE. At some point when BT21 just came out and there were no products on AMAZON or anywhere but S.Korea, someone reached out to me to offer 20% off or something for my dear followers. When they asked what I wanted I said what about international giveaways for my dear followers. Basically, made gifs, found content, updates, analysis, edits, and so on for free. Again, w-wait .. Aren’t you the one asking for commissions? Well .. It’s not wrong. But again THE irony.

So, I went to see that post you made about me with “PROOF” and it was just another person who was salty as I got them blocked I can’t even recall who they were but oh well. Their arguments according to YOU and many should be taken as FACTS just because they said them? You said HERE that your first comeback was MOST:7 that came in just last year (2020) SO what the hell do YOU know about what happened years before you came when all the proof you pointed at where baseless without any backing?

Let’s see this so wise person you used to delete my blog and what I have done ^^

The gifs: There is a story to this. The first week I came to Tumblr, It was my first time on this site and the first time I share anything. I shared some content and my analysis had a lot of notes for a small creator that started just a week ago. But I made a mistake, I found a gif and posted it while crediting the gif maker. At the time I had NO idea it was wrong. I logged off and after 5 hours I log in and there was a WAR for that ONE gif. The big blog had me blocked and her friend was telling me to take it off. As soon as the person told me I did IMMEDIATELY and apologized againa and again and told them to tell the original gif maker to deblock me as I want to apologize directly and that they can block me after that. They did and I apologized but they just kept insulting me. Of course it was MY mistake and that’s why I apologized. But for them. for a mere gif (yes I say a mere gif because I made so many gifs and they were used on all platforms but I never thought it was necessary to hate that much on someone like they did to me). That blog was big and had big blog mutuals. Thanks to that, I became someone you do NOT become mutuals with but block and never reblog content from. Without any big mutuals. Without any shoutouts. Only my love for BTS, my dear followers’ support and my hard work.. My blog, became bigger and FAST (I got 10k in less than 6 months after I started) and that brought loads of jealousy and thus more rumors. Even if, I apologized and since then made my own gifs. And I made SO many gifsets that I can’t remember how many there were. What I can recall is at some point I made them daily and many times a day.

Ships Jikook? I posted content of ALL the members interactions. I was here at a time where Jikook stans and Taekook stans where always fighting. BUT I posted about both and even made so many posts to encourage loving all the members and all the interactions. I also used the tags solely used for shipping with other big tags to show that BTS’ interactions are all important and their bond is beutiful. That our fandom shouldn’t hate on a member just because they are not part of a ship we like. And wait .. even if I shipped Jikook? I got called ALL those names by someone who ship the members with readers and write sexual scenes? Like, wait ... I am truly confused. Like, write fanfic and do all you want as long as you hurt no one I guess but why am I getting hurt for doing non of it? Like according to you, the person you should be cancelling is yourself?! I am also not into cancel culture like you so hahah whatever.

Posted stalker pics: well wow the story changes each time. Next thing you will hear that I was the one holding a camera for a member in a Vlive lol. Let me teach you about this update thing I was doing. I follow accounts I trust and that’s how we get info circulating fast. I always do reasearch but sometimes mistakes are made. For example when lately people shared pictures of BTS leaving their virtual concerts and schedules. There was a watermark of a news outlet. Normally we trust those but only later we realized that those people stalked BTS. You clearly can’t know it all. But I still didn’t share many pics related to many events (I will not name those as pple can search them even now because some pple never deleted those). And all big accounts shared many pics then deleted later. This happens all the time but it happened like ONCE for me. However, I am called a stalker for that?

When Jonghyun passed away ... I don’t even wanna recall that night as the memories just ... when that happened I posted about it and send my condolescences. that post had over 10k notes and was at the top the tag. Why did I do that? I was devastated. Yes, many were but I will talk about me rn: I was suicidal the days before that and one of the songs that I listened to when I was broken where by him. I has been in the kpop world since 2006. And learned about his group since their debut with ‘Replay’. I was never a stan but I still knew of many groups and listened to all the songs I liked. I was very sad when he was gone and ANGRY mostly. Why is this angel leaving? Why is someone like me still here? Why did I not leave instead of him? How much did he suffer? And in the midst I posted a post from twitter that stated how agencies usually put down pple with mental illiness and hide it in the industry. Yes, that was important but NOT at that time. I shouldn’t have posted that and I realized after 5 min of doing so that it was WRONG. So I deleted it FAST but it kept being reblogged and I kept getting hate and people telling me: “Go kill yourself”... the sad part is that I almost did as my answer was “true ... why am I still here?” I apologized and logged off then to this day won’t forget crying at 3 AM while walking outside next to my dad. I was outside as I couldn’t breathe anymore and the idea of seeing the walls of my room was hell. I cried and cried and the teary eyes that my father looked at me with are something I am ashamed of to this day. To add one more thing while I am spilling the beans. I hate learning about someone dying. My grandma passed away sometime before that and it was so shocking to me. and some people came and told me when I was mourning her: Go follow that bitch of grandmother of yours. And for what? At that moment I didn’t think I would live to see the next year but I went to therapy and took medecine that was hurting and made me shake all day just to turn somewhat sane. No one knew tho ... I smiled all day and cried all night.. Even on the blog I fought no one of the ones who hated me. I just blocked them but even that was an insult to them?

Again, you said no one should defend me. Yet, you were ready to fight whoever touched anyone around you. What about changing your URL to beautifulassirony

Also THE hypocrisy. If you are sorry then why are you answering an ask of someone isulting someone you want to apologize to? Just make a post wher you apologize or ignore it from the start?

One more thing but surely not the last. You said you were good with research which you are NOT. So, let me show you what an OG detective ARMY can do. But first, as I was scrolling I saw some of your “work” (let’s not even talk about those gifs) and I am just giving my point of view here: I hate how you painted Namjoon as this horny-idiotic-make-dog. Like I get it it’s a fanfic or Namjoon as a dad but ... Namjoon is such a smart man who is very respectful and ofc he is a human with needs like many but what the hell is this way of portraying a character? Also a character is not cool, amazing, and a strong woman just because they curse and belittle their partner.

Oh well, only you kept reblogging that as it show 36 reblogs when only 33 as still there when I looked and out of those 13 reblogs are yours? (you might have reblogged it more) but again some people might have liked ... people have different taste ... so ... whatever.

Let’s continue, shall we ^^. You said you were the victim here when I was the one getting robbed right? How can I believe someone who reblogged the post below and was proud calling themselves an abomination or how the Oxford dictionary defines it: a thing that causes disgust or loathing. For once you weren’t wrong.

What can you expect from someone who has the “I am not like others” kinda mentality while stating relatable things that everyone goes through?

This is getting pretty long. So to sum this up. You are now telling others that hate is NOt ok and that they should be ashamed of themselves when you yourself is not ashamed of hating on me?

I am not the type that sends anon hate. I might ignore some barking but the past days you came and bite me hard. I face the ones I have to face without fear. I know I am not the bad guy here and I don’t care much what you think about me. Even BTS got haters. This says a lot. BUT do NOT dare talk badely of my dear friends/followers. You said you do research well? Start by deleting the post below that was originally by ME from your blog ... oh how meticulous you are. From your baseless receipts to your twisted logic. Indeed people on the internet can say anything and it will be FACTS. You painted me as the devil and painted yourself as this researcher? What’s next you receiving a Phd in ‘pity me’ after your MBA in lies and irony? Whatever~

Whaaatever~ Karma will have upcoming talks with you. No need for you to apologize. I never cared about you and you only got attention using me. But I am not here anymore how will you get that blog running now? Are you gonna add me in a fanfic next? No need for you to send me my appearance fee when you do so~ And no need for you to apologize to me just apologize to you conscience if you have any left. As for me @hobisbeautifulass you are just someone I will forget soon anyway~~

And because according to what you said HERE when you described the things you hate about people and I thought that was VERY close to how you treated me. Thus, you might really not stand yourself rn.

Do.Not.Worry. BTS are starting the Love Myself campaign again and just in time for you to jump in (you are good at jumping to conclusions about me so I won’t worry about you). I know you don’t like me or my friends but be sure to love yourself at least ^^

You are a Hobi stan? Then learn from Hobi to share some sunshine not bring the storm. Have a good day~

#Anonymous #hobisbeautifulass #don't mind the typos as I wrote this in one go #just because I am someone who do not punch back when someone hit me do not mean I will stand nicely when you touch my people #anyway~ bye~#mimibtsghost

131 notes · View notes

wallwriterstuff · 3 years

Text

All The Colours Of The Rainbow ||Alec Volturi x Reader||

Warnings: A very brief mention of low self-esteem, otherwise it is pure sweet fluff!

Words: 1461 (short but sweet)

Summary: A request for @harleyjackfrost Dying your hair is fun! The vibrancy of its colour in the drab old halls of Volterra just adds a splash of something bright to your day. For Alec...it’s a little more serious than just something fun to do.

Your hair attracted a lot of looks.

Some people looked at you in awe; you didn’t always dye your hair natural colours and the bright ones were popular with kids. Many a little finger had pointed your way, eyes wide and bright because you looked so cool and they wanted to be as cool as you when they were older. Some people looked at you with jealousy, because you had the courage to do what they felt they couldn’t - and looked damn good doing it. Some people looked at you with sympathy, thinking you were a bad egg maybe, the kind that had trouble at school and little in the way of prospects because of it. Occasionally, some people looked at you with disgust, though this was usually older folks who couldn’t understand why you were ruining your hair and trying so hard to be “cool” when you could be a respectable young person.

Only Alec ever looked at you like he did.

It was a bit of an indescribable look really. It was equal parts reverent and confused, disbelieving yet nonplussed, adoring and exasperated. Everything about his expression was completely at odds and yet it never failed to warm you from the inside when he looked at you like that. It was a look only Alec could ever pull off. He was used to your colourful hair, used to the smell of bleach in his room, and he was the first to ward off anyone with ill-intentions when they commented on the smell of the dye or looked like they were about to approach you and ask you to repent your sins and find Jesus. Yes, that did happen once.

“It smells again, Alec.”

“And it isn’t in your room, Felix.” Alec replied coolly. You glanced at the open bathroom door, grinning a bit as you turned back to the running water and stuck your head under the spray. You’d bleached it a few weeks back and had since added the colour, deciding to surprise Alec with something entirely new, something he would never have seen on you before. After moving to Volterra he had been thoroughly bemused by the sheer amount of hair products you had brought with you until you had explained how bleach could damage hair. Since you had turned your shelves in his bathroom were a lot less full, but your favourite conditioners and hair masks remained. Venom did wonders to protect your hair from bleach, but a little hair care was something you loved to indulge in every now and then, and even if he wouldn’t admit it you knew Alec enjoyed the nights you spent together in the bath, massaging his scalp with your little gizmos and rinsing through the brunette strands with your favourite conditioners and shampoos.

“It’s no longer in just your room either, it’s escaping into the hall, have some consideration for others Alec.” Felix huffed.

“I’m almost done Felix, I’ll spray something nice, promise!” you called out. The lumbering footsteps almost masked the light tap of Alec’s shoes heading your way, and you quickly zipped from the shower to the door to shut it in his face.

“Really?” Alec protested. You giggled a little as you continued to wash the dye out of your hair. It took a lot more than you were used to to get colours to stick given the venom had a tendency to try push it out, but sooner or the water was running clear once more, and the dye had absorbed into the strands for the limited time it would be allowed to remain there. Then it was go time. It didn’t take a genius to know Alec was outside of the door, his endless curiosity not allowing him to move from the wooden frame till he saw the results of your recent makeover.

It was bold…not something you had done before. Alec would be surprised you were sure but would he hate it? Like it? With a deep breath, you opened the door, finding him just the other side as predicted. Night had fallen while you washed away the dye and the stars were glittering outside your window, the lamps casting a soft amber glow about the room. His eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of you, clad in nothing more than one of his shirts and some fuzzy socks with your new, rainbow hair. You did a little twirl for him, hands reaching beneath your locks to fan them and splay them so he could see the different layers and sections shine in the low light.

“Well?” you asked, nervous that he had yet to say anything. Alec stepped forward to carefully lift a coloured strand from your head, looking at you in a way you weren’t used to. This wasn’t how Alec normally looked at you at all, no, it was almost like having one of the others look at you, the ones who never seemed to understand your choices or appreciate your creativity. Your face fell.

“It’s…it’s different.” He said finally.

“You don’t like it, do you?” you asked quietly, voice filled with disappointment. You had been excited about this! Alec leaned in to sniff lightly.

“It doesn’t smell like it usually does.” He continued his critique, seemingly unaware he was shattering your self-confidence with every word.

“I used a different dye.” You mumbled, casting your eyes towards the floor. Alec hummed, still picking up different coloured strands of hair.

“This red piece here, it reminds me of the first time you opened your eyes as a vampire,” he said, making your brow furrow, “And this…I see the yellow roses you were so enamoured with in the Garden’s when you first came to Volterra.” He continued. You couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“You got me a bouquet of those every fortnight till the vendor went out of business.” You recalled, lifting your eyes from the floor. Alec was smiling now to, his arm winding around your waist as he continued on.

“Pink…hmmm, pink was the colour of your hair when we first met. Pastel pink, something muted and soft, like the kind of pink you see when the sun begins to rise,” he remembered, “Green is your favourite colour as it reminds you of spring, the new beginnings it brings with it, but this particular shade is almost like lime, that awful drink you made me try perhaps? The fizzy one?” he wrinkled his nose as you giggled.

“Limeade.” You supplied, standing on your tiptoes to brush your nose against his. Alec smiled, replying to the sweet eskimo kiss and nodding in agreement.

“Orange was the only fruit I ever saw you eat, since you have an aversion to all things healthy.” He teased, squeezing your hips and slowly starting to make you sway with him to an invisible rhythm. You bit your lip, struggling to fight a full-blown grin now.

“Who needs health when you have vampire venom to cure your high cholesterol?” you questioned. His eyes rolled a bit but he never lost his smile, twirling you out and away before pulling you back to his chest and holding you close.

“Purple was the colour of the dress you wore the night of our first date,” he reminded you, “And we danced to that sweet melody the busker on the edge of the park played just for us.” You melted into his embrace, completely smitten with him like you had just fallen for the boy all over again. Alec dropped his cheek against the top of your head as your dancing came to a slow halt. With a happy sigh, you simply stood in his embrace, safe and secure, content.

“What about blue?” you wondered. It was the only colour left, the only one he hadn’t mentioned. Alec gently lifted your chin with his finger.

“I never want to see you blue.” He said simply, kissing you softly. For a moment you lost yourself in the feel of him, your heart overflowing with warmth and adoration. Every part of your being reached out for his, found its perfect other half and settled over and over, like waves ebbing and flowing at the shoreline. All was right in the world right then, all was calm and serene.

“I love you.” You murmured as you pulled apart. Alec smiled, a rare, genuine little smile he saved only for you.

“I love you to, and every colour of the rainbow that reminds me of all the little reasons why I fell in love with you.” He promised. It was perfect. It was sweet. It was a moment absolutely nothing could ruin.

Till he ruffled your hair with a smirk and darted off, knowing your retribution would be swift.

#twilight #tiwlight fanfiction #alec volturi #volturi #x reader #alec volturi x reader #I really liked this one

156 notes · View notes

moon-kn1ght · 3 years

Text

stay.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: mentions of high school, mentions of shrek the musical (i’m sry), fluff, pining,

A/N: this is for @emmikmil! I’ve had so much fun writing this for you and dropping by your ask box often. I hope you enjoy! thank you to @wyn-dixie for the beta!

listen to a similarly vibed playlist here || masterlist

“I just don’t get how I was able to spend so much time away from you Marcus!!” you laugh at your friend on the couch next to you, “Eight years later, and your movie commentary is still making me laugh my ass off.” The credits roll on the movie that you two had been watching, and even though the movie had not originally been a comedy, Marcus Pike had made you laugh so much that your abs hurt.

“Now that we’re both in D.C., I can tell you that you’re going to get tired of it. I may be older but my time in the FBI has stunted my humor level back to where it was in high school,” Marcus jeered. His smile had the same youthful exuberance that it did when you two were kids, working for the government hadn’t taken that away yet. His eyes still held that warm kindness that had drawn you to be his friend all those years ago.

You and Marcus were best friends back in your shared hometown of Troy, Ohio. You two had bonded at age fourteen over a desire to get the hell out of your small town. While your friendship was built on a mutual distaste of home, it grew to be much more than that. Your high school years were remembered with moments of utter joy with Marcus by your side.

There were summer adventures into the countryside to find streams to swim in to beat the unbearable heat. There were late night ‘study sessions’ that routinely involved borrowing Marcus’s older sister’s car to go get McDonald’s and sit and talk for hours. You went to every single one of his football games (even though he was third string). And you were there the one game in four years that he was on the field and caught a pass that resulted in a game-winning touchdown.

He was there for your break-out role as the Gingerbread Man in the school’s production of Shrek the Musical. He saw it every night. And he was there when your date to junior-year homecoming didn’t show up, and even though he vowed to not go to a school dance that year, he stepped in as your last-minute date (and funny enough, your original date showed up with a black eye on Monday, but you never heard the details…).

Maybe you’ve been apart for longer than you two actually knew each other, but the friendship that you two shared in those years could have been enough to last a lifetime. Luckily, with both of you now working in D.C., it doesn’t have to be. Maybe now you can experience another lifetime of friendship, but this time as adults.

You have been silent for a moment too long when Marcus interrupts, “Hey, you still here?”

“Sorry, yeah,” you respond. “I was just thinking about how you never told me how my ex-homecoming date, Brian, ended up with a black eye after he stood me up?”

The memory makes him laugh, “That information is on a need-to-know basis. But what I can say is that conversation was quite helpful to draw on when I was learning interrogation skills at Quantico.”

“I KNEW IT!!” you yelp. You grab the throw pillow from your side of the couch and reel back to playfully hit him with it, but he’s too quick—he reaches and yanks it out of your hands, landing his own solid thwack against your stomach. This elicits a squeal from you, “HEY! Not fair, Mr. FBI. You can’t use your super-agent skills against me, that’s got to be a ground rule.”

“I was only acting in self-defense,” he contends, but releases the offending pillow from his grasp. “But if you insist, I will let you take a retaliatory hit at me, to keep things fair.”

“Hmmm. Now I don’t trust you, Pike. I’m pretty sure you’re the type that would remember where I’m …” You were going to finish the sentence with the word ‘ticklish,’ but you can see the shift in Marcus’s eyes, meaning he knew the end of your sentence before you said it. He lunges towards you, and you’re able to call out an “OH NO!” before he’s on top of you, hands attacking the spots on your body that, of course, he does remember are ticklish.

Everything devolves into laughter. Radiant joy fills your living room, joy that you haven’t experienced in so long.

When you’re able to squirm away and catch your breath, you release a thought that had been on your mind all night, “Marcus, I missed you. I missed you so much.”

You could live forever in the incredibly tender way that he looks at you.

“I’ve missed you too, Ging” he says, reminding you of your high school nickname that formed from your silly but wonderful role in the musical. Like old times, Marcus can still sense the melancholy that hides behind your smile, “hey, we both did it. We made it out. And now we’ve found each other again. Nothing is going to take you away from me now, friends for life, remember?”

You two hug, and time could stop for all you care.

—X—

“I can’t believe I let you drag me to a Quantico bar!” you grumble humorously as you slide out of the Uber you and Marcus shared back to your place. “I know So Many great bars in D.C. proper, and I let you drag me to the suburbs, just to be ogled by a bunch of middle-aged men in ill-fitting suits. I’m never going to forgive you for this one.”

You both are laughing in earnest at your condemnation of the rather dive-y establishment you both got probably a little too toasted at for a Thursday night. You were right, the place was filled with the Special Agent-type that Marcus worked with every day, which is likely why it was tinted in rose-color in his memory.

“In my defense, I am not a woman, so how could I…” the words drunkenly tumble from Marcus’s lips. “Wait I take that back, let me rephrase…”

You spin around to shoot lasers into Marcus as his drunk ramble verges on being problematic. You wag your finger at him, “Hey, watch it captain.” He stops in his tracks and you, tipsy as well, step towards him, maintaining eye contact and continuing the silly motion of your finger, until you two are a breath apart.

He doesn’t back up, in fact, he leans into the proximity of your bodies. “Yes ma’am, I’m gonna shut up, I promise,” he blathers. You rest your palms against his chest, fingers grabbing at his wrinkled dress shirt. The alcohol coursing through your veins is giving you a confidence that you weren’t quite ever able to manifest in all those years ago. His hands come up to rest against your upper arms, not pushing you away but also not yet closing the remaining distance between your bodies.

“Yeah, you better. If you don’t, I’ll have to…” your thought stops short from completing as what’s left of your sober brain starts to comprehend how much contact you have with Marcus. Heat and energy pass through each junction of your bodies, his fingers on your arms, your hands against his muscled chest. Were your feet touching too?

“Or you’ll have to what?” Marcus probes, finally releasing the breath he took in the moment your bodies touched.

His voice prompts you to look up from where you had been staring intently into the wrinkles of his once-pristine dress shirt. His eyes are boring holes into where he’d been staring at your head, desperately waiting for you to do something.

Gods, you want to kiss him so badly right now. You want to kiss him hard and desperate to make up for all the years apart. You want to kiss him soft and tender, so he’ll never leave again.

But what if he doesn’t feel the same way? You can’t destroy this absolutely magnetic friendship that you’ve regained after all these years, just for one kiss. But what if he does feel the same way?

You break away from Marcus. You can feel the energy that’s been coursing through your body from his break as you sever each individual point of contact. You can feel each finger leave the surface of his chest and travel through the suddenly chillier D.C. air. His hands slide down your arms. The last of the contact of your bodies breaks as he squeezes his thumb and pointer finger against your pinky.

“I should go,” Marcus says, fracturing the prolonged eye contact by looking down to the pavement. You look down too, your energy shattered by the sudden loss of contact. “Let’s do this again.” The sound of his voice still holds the joy that filled you both tonight, even as his eyes search the ground for something better to say.

—X—

He always smelled like cedarwood. You can still smell it around you as you close your front door and lean back against it. You know you're going to feel this emptiness tomorrow, a different kind of hangover than the tequila sitting in your stomach threatens you with.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door and you jump out of your disappointment. You look out the peephole and it’s Marcus, fidgeting awkwardly. You open the door, “Hey, did you forget some...” you start to ask but he cuts you off.

“Hey sorry for probably scaring you, but I felt something back there. I don’t know if you felt the same thing, but I was wondering if I could kiss you? And if the answer is no, we can forget …” Now it’s your turn to interrupt him. You grab a hold of his shirt in the same place you held him in the parking lot. You pull against him and he leans down and kisses you.

It’s like something in each of you breaks. A floodgate of emotion opens, channeled through this kiss. Your lips search each other for answers you’ve been longing for since the beginning of time.

One of his hands holds your face, while the other finally roams your body. It’s almost as if he’s charting himself a map, so he’ll never lose you again. It traces down your neck, across your shoulders, phantom fingers on your breasts. You’re not sure if his hand is leaving icicles or flames in its wake, but he has every nerve in your body standing on end.

You break from this kiss, but you don’t travel further than to just murmur against his lips. “Marcus are you sure?” you whisper.

He looks down at you and his eyes shine with more joy than you’d ever seen. You cup his cheek in your hand and all his words, all his ability to profess his love dies in his throat because of the simple gesture. He smiles and nods and whispers your name. You could get used to this, the feeling of his lips on yours and your bodies locked together.

“Let’s stay like this forever,” Marcus says, reading your mind.

“Yes. Forever,” you reply and kiss him again.

fin.

#sl fic challenge #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #the mentalist fanfiction #the mentalist #my writing

68 notes · View notes

kinktae · 4 years

Note

Hello. I used to be a follower of Daisy a long time ago. When the whole bullying situation happened I decided to unfollow her. I know that the events that happened transpired a long time ago and she already explained and apologized, but it didn't sit well with me. A couple of months ago I decided to follow her again because I believe in giving people second chances. Everything was fine until she said that she didn't care about anyone except herself and her friends. It seemed selfish to me 1/2

Anonymous said: And the way that she answered asks that disagreed with her seemed rude. This situation piled on with the one that happened beforehand gave me a bad feeling about her. I understand that you're friends with her and I won't tell you to stop talking to her (It's your life and I don't believe in dictating others decisions). It's just something that came back to me after the conversation you just posted. Just a thought I had.😐 2/2

I’m uhh not exactly sure what u want from me hmmm. I know u said ur not trying to tell me how to live my life but it certainly does come across that way.... Welp, I'm not getting back into that scandal bc I have stated multiple times that IT GOT NOTHING TO DO WITH ME I EXPRESSED HOW I FELT AND DAISY FULLY KNOWS HOW I FELT LMFAO. both parties involved settled it privately so I am not opening that worm can again. :D

Daisy isn’t in the fandom anymore, lovebug. If her presence bothers u on my blog u can blacklist our tag. But yeah... uh I guess in her defense, Daisy has always been rude back to rude anons. It’s not unprompted lol. If ur a dick to her she will be a dick back. She’s comfortable with speaking up (unlike my nervous self) and has always been pretty open about it on her blog. Like she’s not tryna present herself any other way.

As for that u calling her selfish bc she says she only cares about herself and her friends, idk not everyone ?? feels empathy in the way that u do ??? i’m not gonna put daisy’s personal shit on blast but there’s always more to the story... trauma/childhood/personal experience can shape people. We shouldn’t shame people on how they do or don’t empathize lol. (Also, side note there are many people who are productive members of society with mental illnesses/disabilities that don’t allow them to connect to everyone emotionally.)

Anyuwu, Daisy and I’s first and only phone call was the day the scandal went down and I had people come and berate me in my asks and SHE called ME because I was home alone and was having a panic attack, even though she was the one who had it way worst that day. She talked me through it. I have NEVER had a friend OR FAMILY MEMBER do that for me. I will never see her as this evil entity that a lot of anons like to try and harrass me into. I take her for who she is and she’s done the same for me. We’ve seen each other at our ugliest and have helped pull each other back up when we needed help. Which is all friendship is when u think about it.

I’m not as placid as u might think, I actually do call out my friends when I’m not happy with them. If I’m not happy with how things play out or if they don’t take accountability, I will and have dropped them. I don’t need to be told how to manage my friends, I promise angel cake :D

I won’t be answering any asks similar to this from now on. Hope you’re well ❤️

#ask #🌹🌼#das our tag btw #tw drama #ig

197 notes · View notes

jackfrostsander · 3 years

Text

I was tagged several days go (by @pamouche and @sandersdocs). Sorry that it took me this long... But here are my answers. It was a real struggle to make choices and so, sometimes I cheated by giving two answers… haha

fav wtfock s3 things

Their infinite love for each other is definitely the most beautiful thing about S03. It's so pure. The fact that at the start of the season Sander says, when he's putting out the glass with Robbe, that he's afraid that he will never find someone. At least not someone who loves him. And then at the end of the season he realizes he has finally found that. Someone who completely loves him. Someone who is not scared away by his MI and who also (unlike Britt) does not see his MI in everything he says or does.

I also cannot believe how perfect the acting of the two Willem's was throughout the season! Their chemistry feel so real. It's a testament of the absolute mind-blowing talent that these two young actors have. I am sure we're going to see a lot more from them in the future!

Also the attention for detail was amazing. The perfect choice of music (e.g. as I write below when Wandering Romance is playing during Friday 21:21 and they film Sander when the song goes “No one knows the pain”. Then the camera switches to Robbe as the song continues: “No one sees what I see in you”. To give just one example of the well thought out choices that the production team made.

Can I mention the real life mural here! OMG, such a masterpiece in the centre of Antwerp. This brings us to the amazing aesthetic of Sander. And his bleached hair! His bleached hair! He looked like a Greek God! Apollo has descended from mount Olympus!

fav clip

Friday 21:21 but as I am already answering that to other questions below let me add Wednesday 16:36. No better cuddle clip than Wednesday 16:36. How they couldn’t stop touching each other. Here Robbe earned the nickname koala Robbe as he clang to Sander when Sander got up to check his phone… Also the moment where Sander says another iconic line: “I immediately knew, he’s the one”. Sander truly is the king of one-liners…

fav scene

Monday 11:03 because up to that point Sander thought that his happiness with Robbe would end when Robbe sees his bipolar side. He even pushes Robbe away because he thinks he's toxic and Robbe deserves someone better than him. But then Robbe makes it clear to him how much Sander means to him and how Sander's illness is no obstruction in their relationship. Can you imagine the relief this must have brought to Sander???

fav shot

Again a hard choice... I like when Sander is playing with Robbe's angel necklace in Friday 22:21. Als the next clip Friday 22:52 is amazing as they are still in the same position in bed. Just in each other's arms, completely happy.

fav kiss that robbe initiates

Monday 11:03: "The next minute we are going to kiss", "That's chill"

This kiss is the confirmation that Sander needed to understand that Robbe was completely honest when he told Sander that he wanted him. This kiss caused such emotion that Sander started to cry and collapsed.

Second place would go to Tuesday 7:27 for the same reason. Nothing is more beautiful than when Robbe uses his kisses to comfort Sander. Because that's what true love means, being there for the other when they need you the most... And omg, seeing how Sander relaxed as soon as Robbe comforted him with "altijd" and his kiss...

fav kiss that sander initiates

Their first one in the swimming pool. It's such a magical moment. He finally had scrambled all the courage he needed to kiss the boy he was so utterly in love with...

Second place would be for Tuesday 16:31. A small peck at first to test the water that ended in a full make out session that was interrupted by Britt calling him. This time it was Sander who comforted Robbe when he said: "We are the future".

fav sander dialogue

"Gij en ik... 100% voor altijd... In elk universum..."

Ok, maybe not much of a dialogue but those few words carry such meaning... And the fact that Sander said these words with such conviction! You could feel how he meant every word of what he said!

fav robbe dialogue

The minute by minute speech and "You've touched me and I never felt anything like it" in Monday 11:03. Yes, I keep coming back to Monday 11:03 because I love that scene so incredibly much!!!!

fav hug

Wednesday 17:21

It's so cute how Robbe goes behind Sander and wraps his arms around him like a guardian angel and Sander then calls him an angel!

Fav 21:21

Friday 21:21

Look how vulnerable Sander is when he opens up to Robbe. The way Robbe melted when Sander spoke his iconic words. And this also marks the moment when they fully chose each other and never looked back.

And the funny parts like "Stomme schoenen!". Haha, such dorks. I love them!

Fav. Sobbe Instagram pic

The pic uploaded December 4th, 2019 on Sander's Insta. It's just the two of them acting silly (Sander sticks out his tongue). So, cute.

And then the Bowie caption:

"'Cause we're lovers

And that is a fact

Yes, we' re lovers

And that is that"

fav scene x song pair

Friday 21:21 with Wandering Romance by Lie Ning!

When during Friday 21:21 Sander's face is on screen the song goes: "No one knows the pain". Then the camera switches to Robbe as the song continues: "No one sees what I see in you". (*)

Is there a better song imaginable??? And then the fact that Lie Ning himself wrote on Instagram: "i wish i had Robbe and Sander when i was a teenager. this love that is not defined by gender or sexuality but purely by affection and heart is exactly what I was looking for back then. glad to be a part of this beautiful romance. everyone knows the pain. but few are brave enough to show it."

(*) Of course this must be a bit of a lie because someone as wonderful and sweet as Sander must have hordes of people who see how special he is...

fav message between Sander & Robbe

Hmmm, April 10th, 2020 is really nice. It starts with Sander saying that Robbe was hefty in his dreams that night... Definitely Robbe must have blushed so much reading that... Then he teased Robbe that his battery was empty and so that he couldn't record his lockdown walk movie. Such a Sander thing to do... Teasing his boyfriend...

Then Robbe writes: "I want to be with you sooooo much. How focking cute you are". Then Sander writes: "I love you, Robin" to which Robbe answers: "I love you too. Abnormally much!"

How perfect is this??? Like the teasing, Robbe calling Sander cute, Sander saying Robin, and then Robbe saying he loves Sander abnormally much.

fav banter on Instagram

Their discussion about their anniversary post. Robbe saying that this was ok for Sander to call him awake for but that Sander had to wait till tomorrow for Robbe's surprise. Saying "patience is a virtue". And then Robbe commenting on Sander's excessive use of emoji's. And Sander teasing Robbe by saying "Thus not like this" followed by 20 hearts... haha

I am not sure who has all done this so far so I am tagging @lucidpantone, @bowieexaminprogress, @tsjernobyl, @mijnlief, @indimlights, @sanderxrobbee, @debussyatmidnight, and @hereforsobbe. Feel free to ignore!

#wtfock #wtfock season 3 #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen

24 notes · View notes

hollowcities · 2 years

Note

16, 20, 21 for the ask game! Hmmm maybe Angela and/or Curly

Doing both because I’m a sucker for character asks 😁 & it turned out kind of long so rip

16. Dark secrets/'skeletons in the closet'

Angela:

In my ‘verse (unwritten and what about it 😒 one day yeah) Angela miscarries after marrying Tim’s creep friend. She blames herself for a very, very long time afterwards. Also, I wouldn’t say this is so much of a ‘dark secret’ but she’s more relieved than anything else when her mother passes away. She’s guilty about it, but in a very disconnected way-- she knows she should feel some sort of remorse but doesn’t, not really. She never tells her brothers but they notice, to an extent.

Curly:

In contrast to Angela, Curly very much cares when their mother dies-- and alternates blaming himself and Tim for it. In terms of other skeletons in the closet, in one AU Curly is drafted, and there’s a large portion of his time in Vietnam that he never speaks about for as long as he lives. He struggles with mental illness and the taboo surrounding men and mental illness for a very long time afterwards.

20. What-ifs/Alternate Timelines

Angela:

Again, me and the unwritten AUs. I have 17k worth of an Angela fic in the drafts, and exactly 348 words of it are actually publishable. Either way. Angela miscarries before she has to get married, which sets her up on a completely different path in life. She’s also into women in this AU, but unfortunately I don’t touch on that until part 2 (also drafted but unwritten 😔)

Curly:

Oof,, I’ve always thought the idea of Curly getting drafted then dying is an interesting one, both in the way it would affect his siblings, and the potential themes behind it. I don’t have the heart to kill Curly off (yet) but I do think it could be interesting to explore the ways Vietnam disproportionately affected families from working-class backgrounds, and Curly in the war is one way to look at it.

21. Turning points in their life

Angela:

Gonna go with the obvious: her teenage marriage. I have a discontinued WIP that goes into some detail about it but it’s unlikely it’s getting picked up again without some heavy reforming. Aside from the obvious changes in circumstance, the key point here is her sudden lack in autonomy-- to put it into perspective, the first no-fault divorce law was passed in 1969, in California. My girl is trapped. Angela, to me, is very headstrong, used to getting her way, and being forced into an unwanted marriage squashes a lot of that, makes her more reserved and very, very bitter.

As cliche as it is, I’d say a second turning point is having her first child. She has a lot of complicated feelings surrounding her daughter, especially with the weight of her previous miscarriage on her shoulders, and the resentment that comes with the fact that her daughter’s the product of an unwanted marriage + yet another thing tying her down. As of yet, this is only referenced in a couple WIPs that aren’t from her POV, but I would say that it’s a second pivotal moment in her life that drastically changes her perspective.

Curly:

Curly’s stupid; things don’t affect him too much 😁 No, on a real, I’m gonna go back to their mother’s death again. Curly’s childhood was rocky, but consistently so, and it only really changed after his mother took her own life-- in my mind, that’s his oh shit, moment. As previously mentioned, he partially blames Tim, which skews the very two-dimensional way he looks at his big brother & role model, and effectively wipes out the last bit of innocence he retained from being the ‘baby’ of the family. In one AU, this completely changes his outlook on life & leads him down a very different path. I am planning on writing parts of this but like. It’s me and my track record with actually writing things down is a bit sketchy rip,, I’m useless fr

#asks #thank u 😁#sorry if this is confusing 😭#and it's so long as well #i deadass have two separate and unwritten aus in varying stages of drafting #and they overlap just enough to be confusing #tw: suicide #hc

2 notes · View notes

decayandfanfics · 3 years

Text

The great book of sayings

PAIRINGS: Tomura Shigaraki x FemReader

SUMMARY: He looks at you, his scarlet eyes fixed on yours, burning a hole through your head, every bit the predator he is, but you are as tough as it gets, so, against your better judgment and any well-founded logic, you answer his silent threat, the animalistic look he gives you with nothing less than a fearless smirk, irises burrowing into his pupils.A clever girl. He thinks, finally labeling you inside his head, cursing himself in the very moment he allows his brain to think of you as more than an asset. He is sure (he knows himself enough to know) he’ll think of this moment many times from now on.A clever pretty girl.

Reader is a typical college student until she gets herself tangled with the league of villains.

WARNINGS: Unhealthy/complicated relationships, violence, Tomura being Tomura, mentions of murder, heroes’ abuse of power, smut later.

A/N: I’m trying so hard to write crusty boy here really in character. At least after AfO is taken. Any misspelled words, english is not my native language so i’m trying Helen.

__________________________________________________________

Chapter 5 / Chapter 6

Honesty is the best policy.

She’s odd.

And that’s rich coming from him.

She’s weird in a soft homely way. In the way she speaks kindly but firm, always minding her own business, but pretty aware of everything is happening inside her little apartment.

He watches her taking notes, reading something in her laptop, fully concentrated. A bunch of colored highlights and sticky notes spreading in the study her study space, in a corner of her room.

It’s funny how after an hour or so she melts in the chair and begins to cry quietly hiding her face on her hands.

Five minutes later the alarm goes off, she stands up, washes her face and resumes her task.

What the fuck?

It’s not like he cares for her or what she feels, but that little display is so fucking weird, it caught his attention, so he asks.

“why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying.” She says with a serene smile painted in her face.

“Liar. you were crying like...five minutes ago.”

I don’t appreciate liars. He thinks briefly.

“oh, that…I always cry when I study.”

“…why?” he’s completely confused at her explanation because it doesn’t match her tranquil face.

“because I’m stressed and I’m finding difficult to understand this topic, I grow desperate. So, I cry.”

He looks at her like she grew another head.

“…you cry when you are stressed?”

“When I’m college stressed, yes. I mean…college does that to you, to everybody. Half of my class is on anxiolytics.”

“are you on anxiolytics?” he asks more and more confused.

She laughs lighthearted.

“no, I don’t have the money to pay for a psychiatrist. But I manage…Tons of coffee and programed crying while I study does it good for me.”

Tomura looks at her puzzled. He rarely thought about what it is to be twenty something and have a normal life. This is not what he had in mind.

She keeps taking notes in complete silence, a picture of a nasty fracture with some screws attached on her screen, but she seems pretty okay with the gory part of her task.

“Why did you want to become a doctor?” he interrupts her again.

“hmmm…I guess I wanted to save people.”

“like a hero?” He asks, snarling the word.

“maybe, I think my concept of heroes might be different from yours.” She states keeping her eyes glued to the screen.

“how so?” he eyes her, suspicious.

“I think that hero es a very big word, like doctor. People call physicians doctors, but the true meaning is someone who has a PHD.”

“and…?”

“and you have these “heroes” who go saving the day because is their profession, but the true meaning of the word doesn’t have anything to do with agencies and schools. A hero is someone who helps others but does it by incarnating important traits for the ones he saves.”

“Traits?”

“yes, traits. Like…I can be saved for a so-called hero, but if he’s not kind in the meanwhile, I wouldn’t think of it as much as heroic. That’s why anyone can be a hero to someone else, and at the same time not all heroes are heroes for everybody. It’s the same for villains.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it depends on your own morals and needs. You could kill a man tomorrow and people would say you are a monster, and then find out he was violent to his wife and children, and somehow now you are a little boy’s hero because you freed him from his monstrous father.”

“You think evil is in the eye of the beholder?”

“Not evil perse, there are things that are just wrong, but I think villainy and heroics are a matter of perspective.”

He waits before asking the next.

“and what’s your perspective?”

She brushes off the answer like is nothing. Like his heart is not pounding heavily inside his cage, fixed in her expression trying to grasp any lie in her statement.

“It has to do with politics, to be honest. I think right now, a very specific part of heroes is being super idolized. The ones who fight are treated like royalty by the government, paying them with our taxes, when that money could be used for rehab, hospitals or mental illness treatment. You see, thieves and murderers are not a factor, but a product of lack of opportunities. Monsters are made, not born. Of course, there are evil people, psychopaths and all that, but they are a minority. So, we pay Endeavor tons of money for him to fight with some random criminal every week, meanwhile children are starving in the streets, then those same children turn to violence and crime and who’s fault is that? But it’s okay, we can always pay some random dude in a leotard to beat the shit out of them. I mean, I had the opportunity of an education that will allow me to live pretty well-off tomorrow, but how many people has that? I cannot ask a person who grew up in a violent environment, poverty or homeless to be well adjusted, because morals are a luxury when you are hungry, and there are so many ways to starve a child. Not only food, but guidance, care, and love, but you cannot measure it in numbers, so no one cares.”

He looks at her aghast. Something warm feeling the hole in his chest.

She looks so pretty when she talks like this. Full of resolve, her brilliance shining through her clear opinions.

“do you hate heroes?” he asks full of something akin to hope.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Shigaraki, but no. I don’t hate them. If anything, I feel sorry for them, because they have this massive impossible task of trying to save everyone, which is simply not accomplishable, meanwhile society keeps rolling over everything wrong like it’s not everybody’s business. I mean, it’s not Hawks or Endeavor, even All might’s obligation to care for the poor, the ill and the abandoned. That’s what’s the government is for.”

He licks his lips absentminded, thinking about her words for a moment. The great difference between them plainly obvious to him now.

She’s partial, compassionated and well adjusted to the model despite everything she knows. So, she works with what she has. Meanwhile he is an absolutist, he knows that. He doesn’t have in him the nerve to do anything in half. That’s why he hates and craves destruction as the only meaning to achieve his goal. As an outcast, he knows he’s every bit the monster society make him be and they all will pay for the life he didn’t got the chance to have.

Still, he takes what she offers as he always does. Her knowledge now saved like some advice, a confirmation of everything he wants to destroy.

A smile stretches across his face, his ruby eyes memorizing the curve or her cheeks.

Pretty when she smiles. He thinks, a self-indulgent thought he will allow for now.

“what?” she asks suddenly nervous, color rising to her ears out of the blue.

“you know what? You could be a wonderful villain.” He tells her smiling truly amused.

“oh” she smiles back “you have no idea.”

Chapter 7

9 notes · View notes