#am hiding in my shell and i want to come out but i also DO NOT so i am cowering in fear forever and never standing up for myself or standing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thecuriousquest · 5 months

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Don’t Close Your Eyes

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @palesweetscherryblossom @chickennugnugnug @murderofravens

Warnings: Platonic yandere themes, hurt/comfort, vomiting, painful migraines, Gojo is kind of a bad dad, Gojo obsesses over his daughter’s beauty

Summary: Your father, Satoru Gojo, gives you everything you want. What will happen when something you want breaks one of his very few rules? (Featuring Uncle Nanami)

Master List

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You love your father with all of your heart, but it’s really hard to be his daughter sometimes. He spoils you rotten. You want ice cream or mochi for breakfast? Cookies for dinner? You got it. The most expensive sushi for lunch? Say no more. You want that really expensive necklace and designer outfit? Done.

He wraps you up in the thickest of blankets and carries you through life. If he had things his way, he’d make sure you didn’t even have to put a toe on the ground. You’ve never been confronted with any real world issues thanks to your doting pops, but you feel as though you’re living inside of a shell.

However, having inherited the Six Eyes from him, you suffer not only from an overprotective father, you also suffer from violent migraines due to oversensitivity and overstimulation of the senses. You’re extremely light sensitive. Even the dullest fraction of light can trigger a headache.

This being said, your daddy doesn’t allow you to cover your eyes…ever. He says, “They’re too beautiful to cover up” or “Why would you even think about hiding something I gave you?” You can’t even convince him to buy you those really dark sunglasses where no light can pass through.

You often find yourself trying to cut up towels for makeshift blindfolds just so you can get some sleep, but you’re only lightly scolded by your father and told not to “play with scissors” despite being fourteen years old.

———

Satoru comes home from a mission, greeting Nanami as he asked the blonde sorcerer to keep an eye on you while he was gone.

“How was she? Who am I kidding? She was perfect, wasn’t she?”

“No, she was not. She was crass and rude because she was in pain the entire time. She cursed me out more times than I care to tell, and she barely ate, and what she did eat, she threw up. Gojo, you have to do something about her migraines because whenever I come over to watch her, I end up getting them as well.”

The lanky man’s jaw hangs wide open as he listens to Nanami’s speech. After a minute of processing, he drops the bag of souvenirs on a nearby table and huffs a fatherly sigh.

“Are you sure it’s her? I mean, you could just be incapable of looking after her.”

“It’s not her, Gojo. It’s you,” Nanami states as he picks up his bag. “I’m leaving now. She’s upstairs in her room crying her eyes out because you refuse to do anything about her oversensitivity.”

With that said, Kento brushes past Satoru and leaves the Gojo household.

Satoru trails up the stairs, bag in hand, and knocks on the door twice. When he receives no response, only hearing you choking on sobs, he opens the door to see you shaking under the covers. He strides over to you, pulling the blanket back so that he can see you holding your head with your eyes squeezed shut. Placing the bag on the floor, your dad takes a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Hey, there’s my pretty girl. Uncle Nanami told me you were having a bad day. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Hurts!” Is all you can bite out with the amount of pain you’re in. You curse yourself for even speaking because your skull is pounding from all of the noise. “Please, Daddy, make it stop!”

He shushes you, pulling you up towards his chest so that you can cry into his shoulder.

“We could try a sedative?”

“Those don’t fucking work! You can’t do anything right! God, you’re fucking useless!” You grip his shirt and blow tears and snot into it as you wail at him in a fit of pain and teenage rage.

Gojo, being used to the cursing, only rolls his eyes. He can’t scold you right now. It wouldn’t help anyway. You wouldn’t even be able to focus on a lecture at the moment. Instead, he holds you closer and presses a kiss against your hair.

“Daddy, please…covering my eyes…it’s the only thing that works.” You flinch when the migraine feels like a brick has been smashed against the back of your head.

“You know the rules. I want to be able to see your gorgeous face every day. You’re my sunshine, sweetie. Your eyes are so beautiful.”

“Fuck you! Uncle Nanami lets me cover my eyes!”

“Well, then, Uncle Nanami isn’t going to be able to watch you anymore.”

You shake your head slightly, desperately. “I…No, you can’t do that. Daddy, please, I want to see Uncle Nanami!”

Gojo lowers his glasses and looks at you. “I’m your father, so I can do whatever I want. These headaches are just a phase. You’ll grow out of them. You don’t need to cover your eyes. I never wore them as a child. You didn’t have these migraines as a little kid, so you’ll probably get over them at some point. You just need to-”

The storm in your head causes violent waves to crash against your skull, rattling the ship that is your brain. Blood rages in your ears, and you can only hear your father’s voice in a low hum before succumbing to nausea for the fourth time today.

Throwing your blanket off of you and reaching for the trashcan that’s right by your bed, you hurl into the black plastic bin that’s almost half full of your bile and stomach contents. Gojo looks into it and can clearly see that Nanami had made you fish for dinner.

Your father does his best to try and comfort you, rubbing your back as you vomit water and whatever else your stomach can wretch. Coughing signals an end to your regurgitation, and you put the trash bin down on the floor in front of you.

Calmly now, with no heat or bite behind your words, you look away from your father and ask, “Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

You hate to ask him for this after being so angry with him, but a comforting presence next to you can sometimes help with your migraine induced insomnia. It can sometimes even dull the headaches to a certain extent.

“Of course. Anything for my little girl.”

Lying down, you rub your temples as Satoru trails the tips of his fingernails up and down your back. Being emotionally drained and physically exhausted, as well as having your father sit right beside you, it doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

As Gojo watches his precious angel close her eyes, he runs his fingers through your hair and smiles. You’re finally asleep and looking peaceful. If you had eye coverings on, he wouldn’t be able to see the whites of your lashes curving as you enter a dream.

He knows in his heart that he’s doing the right thing.

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psychelis-new · 8 months

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pick a pile: "Loving words from your person"

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to find a message meant to reach you at this time. The message may come from your future spouse/destined person/long time partner or even closest friend for some of you (you may still have to meet them).

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

Things are getting rocky at the moment, right? Yeah I know it. Try to not let this excessive amount of emotions sweep you away. Try to ground, try to stay present and in you. It's hard work indeed, ofc, I'm not saying it's easy but... please, even if it feels so difficult ans scary, do not give up. Do not let all this take the best of you. Stay in touch, stay in control... touch the ground and the grass, stay present, keep yourself rooted physically. A good news is coming in soon, maybe a new endeavour you know, just do not let this stress you even more than you are. Right now you need to find your inner focus, your center, and to meditate. Until we meet, until I will be able to help you, take good care of you. Or let someone else help you.

[romantic partner for many of you but not everyone; very big on physical affection/hugs in particular -gives very good safe hugs-; good big heart; you may be feeling lonely/feeling down/needing a bit more of love or affection these days or you will need: they'll offer you loads of that with a bright smile; sweet young kinda feminine/nurturing energy; the "excessive amount of emotion" mentioned in the reading may relate to something you're healing atm: I just heard "keep healing patiently"]

song: stay ready (what a life) | jhené aiko, kendrick lamar

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pile 2

HEllo hello my sweetheart! Things are changing as times and leaves, and so your emotions need to adapt to all this. We totally need to stop letting them block us and be more real, shouldn't we? It is indeed time to make a new start, to level up. So take it slow but leave this pain behind. Okay, okay, the choice is yours but you know... it's better to make mistakes and really live even for just one day than to just hide behind a wall and observe others having the time of their life and then feeling so unworthy of everything, right? Go out of the shell and try to feel as worthy as them. Try to be your real self (I know who you are inside, don't play with me, you cannot hide :)). Go slowly, go at your pace, but try. Little by little. One "hello" at time. I am waiting for you to try and say hi first. I am here waiting just for you, not going anywhere.

[romantic partner or friend, or both; funny positive accepting wise person: "it's okay to make mistakes, they're cute" when I wrote the first hello with the E and didn't want me to correct it "it's so me"; prolly clumsy but in a cute way; very pensive/thoughtful; may know many words/has a way with words or is a book lover/nerd; may wear glasses and touch them often; may sit weird; loves to write/journaling; thinks before speaking but writes on a whim and makes typos maybe also in messages to you -some are fun; you may laugh a lot together-; only for some: they may already "be in your life" as you may "see" them around often -eg. school, jobplace, subway, fav pub/place, park...- or they may be your crush/someone you find interesting, as in the song's mv]

song: you don't know my name | alicia keys

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pile 3

It's time to take a pause and wait. Things not always go as we plan them or as we'd like them to, but it's not always that bad. It's often a matter of realigning, of realizing that maybe something wasn't supposed for us, and it's better this way. It's maybe a matter of taking a break, grieving our desire in the way we planned it to be, and then go back on track and working for a new different way to get it. It's often a matter of having to wait a little longer, of having to be a little more experienced and prepared. Maybe it's the same for us, don't you think? Maybe we thought we had met but it wasn't us. Maybe we're just meant to work on ourself first a little more, on our feelings and how we see them and perceive them, on our strenghts and self confidence, before we can really shine and meet. Before we can really be able to be seen by the right people: me by you and you by me. And trust me, it's gonna happen. We'll make it happen.

[older or wiser romantic partner or friend; feels like has had many life's experiences; very grounded; masculine energy for the most; very concrete and has an intriguing mind; may have lot of air in their chart or be Mercury dominant, still has a lot of control on their thoughts and is very determined; may inspire you and guide you through a lot and help you grow or heal; will probably need you to help them let go a bit of control cause maybe sometimes -at least for some- they may tend to be a bit more serious and go deep within and get lost in their mind; may show a bright smile on the outside but may feel hurt inside, give them time or talk with them, help them feel safe in communicating their real thoughts if you can: they just don't want to cause pain to others but forget that generally people feels good when being of help to a lover/friend and not burdened; you may share some traits or have mirror energy]

song: island in the sun | weezer

#pick a pile #pac #pick a card reading #pick a card #pick a photo #pick a card tarot #pick a picture #free tarot reading #tarot readings #intuitive readings #psychic readings #clairs readings #divination #fs #tarotblr

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kalamity-jayne · 1 month

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Sorry for asking but I am a cis male teenager (well, I thought I was.) but lately I have realized I think I might be a trans girl? I am very scared to drop my masculinity. How did you find out you were trans if that’s okay to ask?

Of course it's ok! I am always happy to help someone who is questioning their gender. However, this is actually a pretty loaded question, because while there is a lot of talk about "when my egg cracked" in trans circles, figuring out you're trans isn't always attributable to any one singular event. Some folks might crack through and emerge from their egg in one swift motion but that is not true for everyone, it certainly wasn't true for me. Sure I could tell about the moment the first crack in my shell appeared, but a single crack in the egg is a far cry from actually breaking out. For many it's a process that can involve a series of revelations and tends to require lots of self reflection and learning how to love yourself. So, there is no quick and easy answer for this. However, I think my story will have a number of different lessons relevant to your question.

Before getting into all that though, I feel I must point out that cisgender folks rarely ask themselves these kinds of questions and when they do entertain these thoughts it's brief and comes with very little agony. The fact you have gone so far as to reach out to trans woman for advice, the fact the you are clearly worried by the prospect of being trans, is a pretty clear indicator that you probably are trans. Regardless of whether you actually are transgender or not, I want you to know that either way, it's ok. You will be ok, no matter what conclusions you come to.

Now, the story of how I figured out I was trans. Bear in mind, the first “aha moment” was 20 yrs ago and things were very different back then. I was about 17yrs old at the time and the term transgender didn't have the currency then that it does now, there wasn't the robust set of terminology that we have today, there were far fewer resources to turn to, no social media, and the overall public opinion was significantly more hostile towards anything LGBT. Anyway, more below the cut.

I didn't follow the typical trans narrative of the time in the sense that, as a child I didn't really care about my clothes so long as my favorite cartoon characters were on 'em, I liked toys typically marketed towards boys, I looked like a boy and everyone referred to me as a boy. So I thought I was a boy. However, I do have a vague memory from early childhood, somewhere between the ages of 4-6, of sneaking into my mother’s room and stealing a pair of her satin underwear and trying it on (it surely would have been too big on me but I remember liking the texture of the fabric) and hiding it under my bed. This memory has since been confirmed during my adulthood by my brother who shared a room with me at the time and had apparently found the hidden stash.

From an early age I was explicitly shunted towards masculinity. I was regularly told to “stop acting like a girl,” and “quit crying like a girl,” and even at one point to “stop walking like a girl,” by my peers and one of my brothers. By the time I was a teenager I was doing my best to be as masculine as possible going so far as joining the highschool wrestling team, a sport that is as homophobic as it is homoerotic, and I hated every minute of it because being manly didn't feel natural to me (and it definitely didn't stop the bullying). It felt like I was trying to ice skate uphill. I fit in but only imperfectly for I was merely acting.

I was also very confused about my sexuality. I thought maybe I was gay or bisexual (turns out the latter) but that didn’t really explain what I was feeling. Around 17yrs old I got curious about transsexuals, thinking maybe the answers would be found there and hoped on to the early and oh so clunky internet. Now I knew of transsexuals conceptually but I didn't know anything about them. Sadly, pornography was really the only reliable way to actually see what a trans body looked like back then. I was stunned because the women I saw did not look at all the way I expected. I was blown away by how so many of them, genitalia aside, looked indistinguishable from cisgender women. And they were all absurdly beautiful. I felt an immediate attraction but there was something else I felt too, envy. And that realization was the first crack in my eggshell.

After that I couldn't get the thought of crossdressing out of my head. So, I dug through a box of my mother's old clothes and took a few items she no longer wore, an old white tennis skirt and a very very 70s sleeveless orange blouse. I was so comfortable in those clothes and when I looked at myself in the mirror I felt good, really good. So, I continued exploring, shaved off all of of my body hair, went to department stores that were open late at night to buy girl clothes (deathly afraid someone would recognize me), I would stay up late at night to watch HBO because at midnight they would occasionally air stuff about trans people, (I remember two documentary shorts in particular and the movie Soldier’s Girl) and I scoured the internet for more information. The internet search brought me to a website called TG list (at least I think that’s what it was called, this was 20yrs ago after all) which was a directory of resources ranging from The Breast Form Store (which still exists!), a myriad of gender identity quizzes (I took nearly every single one), and Susan’s Place.

Susan’s place was one of the few reliable places to hear from actual transgender adults. Unfortunately, while Susan's Place had a lot of useful information the forums there were full of horror stories, a never-ending supply of all the things those women had suffered. So needless to say, there was little to no positivity around transness to give me hope. I was afraid to call myself trans as a result, afraid of what it meant for my life, my future, and my physical safety (you have to remember that back then Mathew Shepard wasn’t old news, his tragedy was practically current events). So I called myself a crossdresser but for reasons I didn't understand at the time I deeply resented that label. I think deep down, no matter how much I tried to deny it and bury it, a part of knew I wanted to be a girl. So when I came out to my parents as a crossdresser and explicitly told them I wasn't trans, that I didn’t have any desire to transition to female, there was that lil voice at the back of my mind calling me a liar. That voice would follow me until my late 20s.

Coming out was a real struggle for me because not only did I think my life would literally be in jeopardy, I thought everyone would think I was making it up, having not followed the stereotypical models of transsexuality. When I came out to my parents they didn't disown me or anything but they were noticeably uncomfortable around me when I was in girl mode. At a certain point I needed their help (credit card) to buy a gaff for tucking and that was when my parents, out of a misguided desire to protect me, pushed me back into the egg. Because of their rejection I spent the rest of highschool and most of my college years trying to hold the egg together with even more denial and by doubling down on masculinity. While I did have some fun during my college years, on balance I was miserable and depressed. I chafed at my male costume and I knew I was lying to myself the entire time, and I hurt myself a great deal.

During my senior year of college I started privately dabbling with crossdressing again, the desire had been nagging at me incessantly. A short time after graduating I met my wife who accepted that side of me and she introduced me to the BDSM/kink community, and the overall culture of nonjudgmental acceptance there cracked the egg for good, because is provided spaces besides my own room where I felt safe being a girl. From that point on I slowly but surely came out of the egg, first calling myself a crossdresser, then genderfluid for awhile, then GENDA passed in NY making me an explicitly protected class and for the next 2 yrs I presented as a they/them genderqueer woman 100% full time without HRT (I was still reluctant to call myself a woman).

I wrestled a long time with the choice to go on HRT. Ultimately that was always a big stumbling block for me. Therapy had gotten me pretty far but I was still afraid of so much and was unsure I would be happy with the changes because my parents had initially rejected me as their daughter in very paternalistic fashion I struggled to trust my own instincts. I still struggle with that sometimes. Eventually, I befriended a trans woman in my neighborhood who pointed out HRT works very slowly and that it takes a long time for any permanent changes to take root. So, she suggested I give it a try and if it didn't feel right I could stop.

I was also taking gender identity quizzes again. Now most of these claim to be diagnostic and those ones a generally misogynistic garbage (they ask stupid questions like, “are you good at math?” and assign a gendered value to the answer) but I happened upon one that started with the disclaimer that it wasn't diagnostic and instead only offered questions that are good to think with. Two questions in particular were very helpful. The first asked, "If you could take a pill that would allow you to wake up tomorrow as a girl, would you take it?" My answer was a hesitant yes, but that yes was bolstered by the next question, "If you could take a pill that would allow you to wake up as a man, in your current body, but without any dysphoria or desires to be feminine, would you take it?" My answer was an emphatic no because that would have felt like killing an important part of myself off. I then at the age of 33yrs old started HRT and 4yrs in I am incredibly happy. That was one of the best decisions I have ever made.

Now, I know that was a lot of fucking text to read but I wrote all of that because I know the prospect of maybe being a trans girl feels scary to you right now but I want to assure you that as daunting as it may seem there is so much about being a trans woman that is full of beauty and joy. I love my trans womanhood and despite the hardships, I wouldn’t give it up for anything. In fact the opposite is true. Knowing what I know now, I would give up almost everything in order to be a woman. So if you feel like you want to give girlhood a try, do it! You can take small incremental steps and you can always stop if it doesn’t feel right, either way you will gain a degree of self knowledge most cisgender people lack completely and that is absolutely priceless! Plus, unlike me when I was a teen, there’s all kinds of resources and information available to you now and an entire community of people ready to help you, and unlike the women in the forums from my past, we aren’t all gloom and doom.

As for your fear of giving up masculinity, don’t let that fear lure you into the denial trap like it did me. Denial is like quicksand, once you’re in it becomes hard to get out, the more you struggle the deeper in you go and it is so very suffocating. And the thing is, you actually don’t have to give it all up. Back when I was presenting full time as woman without HRT, I felt like I had to be ultra feminine all the time, full face of make-up, dress, heels, the whole nine yards. Now that I’m 4 yrs in with HRT I don’t feel that pressure anymore and have since reclaimed certain aspects of masculinity I actually liked. I sill like presenting high femme from time to time but these days I mostly rock a soft butch aesthetic, flannel/t-shirt, jeans and the only makeup I wear daily is just a lil bit of blush. At certain point you become comfortable and realize that gender is just a sandbox to play in and experiment. Masculine and Feminine are just concepts, they aren’t real! so regardless of being cis or trans, don’t let those mere concepts box you in! Just do what feels natural and right to you!

I hope all of that was helpful to you anon, and that at the very least you walk away from this knowing you don’t have to have all of the answers about yourself right now. Now, I don't no the particulars of your situation, so I’m happy to speak with you further if you have follow up questions, just send another anon.

Best of luck to you anon, I am rooting for you!

Big hugs,

Mother Calamity

#advice from a trans mom #Transition #HRT #Transgender #cracking the egg #ask/answer #anon #mother calamity!

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petcr3 · 10 months

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dreams | rhett abbott x reader

summary: rhett asks if reader ever wants to move out of their apartment, and before either of them know it, they’re planning out a future together.

word count: ~1.4k

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, my usual in depth cuddle descriptions because i am not normal, rhett getting to feel loved uwu, rhett being romantic because he IS i just know

a/n: this was completely unplanned, i was just yearning so hard an entire fic fell out

You’re curled up against Rhett’s chest, his cheek resting against the top of your head as he idly trails his fingers up and down the length of your spine.

“You ever think about leaving this place?” he asks.

“Wabang?”

“No.” A chuckle. “Well, yeah. But I just meant the apartment.” You hum in understanding, fingertips idly dancing along his side.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t mind living in a bigger place. Maybe a house someday.”

“Any chance I’m in that house with you?”

“Of course you are. There’s a little spot for you to curl up at the foot of my bed and everything.” Laughter rumbles in his chest and he leans down to nip harmlessly at the shell of your ear.

“Mean.”

You giggle and hide your face against his chest. He can feel you smiling against his skin. Despite your transgression, Rhett reaches up to play with your hair and you let out a contented sigh.

“There’s no house without you in it,” you say after a moment. It catches him a little off guard. Sure, he likes to think he plays a part in your fantasies about the future, but it’s something else to hear that he’s a fixture in them. Something clenches near his heart–– a beautiful ache that comes from a missing piece sliding home.

“Tell me more about it?” he asks, feeling suddenly a little vulnerable. You nose affectionately at his chest and pull him a little closer

“It’s got a lot of light. It’s big, but not too big, like, you can’t get lost in it. We wouldn’t need that kind of space. Mostly it just feels open and bright, you know? Lots of sun. Our bedroom has its own bathroom so I can listen to you sing to yourself in the shower.” Rhett lets out a quiet snort.

“Thought you did that anyway.”

“Yeah but now I can do it lying down. It’s a game changer.”

You’re funny, Rhett thinks. People don’t notice that enough. “Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted…” Your head bobs a little with his gentle laughter.

“Go on.”

“We have a big ol’ bathtub–– one where we both fit.”

“Sexy.” He can’t help himself. You pinch his side, but he can still feel you smiling..

“We have a big yard. Maybe even big enough to keep horses, if you wanted.”

“What about a dog?”

“Well we’d have to get two, so they can have a friend.”

“Agreed.”

“What about you? What are you adding?” Rhett thinks for a moment.

“Nice deck. Rocking chairs or a porch swing so we can sit out and watch the stars at night.” You let out a happy little sound, and he can tell you’re picturing it. “Lots of blankets out there. You can get nice n’ cozy and I’ll bring us out hot toddies.” Rhett knows he’s not playing exactly by the rules of the game, but he’s starting to get lost in the idea of a future with you–– one that you seem to already be counting on. “The dogs like to sit by our feet. At least one of ‘em’s too big to sit in your lap, but you let ‘em anyway because you’re soft on ‘em.” He smiles. “Guess I probably am, too.”

You’ve always loved Rhett’s voice. It’s sexy as hell, sure, but it’s also unbelievably calming. Paired with his arms wrapped around you, it’s positively lethal. But he’s so wrapped up in the fantasy you two are creating, he doesn’t notice the way your breathing evens out or your grip on his waist starts to slacken.

“Once it gets too cold we head inside and you tell me just to leave the mugs in the sink because you don’t wanna go up to the bedroom by yourself even if it’s just for a few minutes. Our bedroom is big, but it’s cozy. You picked out most of the furniture but you always tell everyone I helped. I built our bed frame, though. You like to brag about that.” He knows he’s right because you still tell everyone you know about the end table he made for your living room last year. When he starts speaking again, he hardly realizes what he’s saying. It just starts to flow out of him.

“I ask you to marry me in that bed. I got a ring and a proposal all planned out but you have to go and look so beautiful one night that my plans go right out the window. I take you out for a walk like I was going to, though, and get down on one knee. You don’t even let me get up, you practically tackle me to the ground saying yes again. Maybe we get married out in the yard or we find some place pretty to go. But I think the ceremony happens outside; that feels right. We make Amy the flower girl even if she’s not a kid anymore. I’m crying the whole damn time and I don’t care who sees. You hold my hand even if we’re not supposed to.” He isn’t sure if that’s a rule–– he thinks maybe it isn’t–– but he knows you’d break it if there was one.

“I know we haven’t talked about kids, but…” Finally Rhett catches himself. “Well, I guess I’m getting a little carried away, there, huh?” For the first time in several minutes, he realizes you haven’t said a word. He nudges his nose against the crown of your head. “Sweetheart?” You shift a little bit, saying nothing. Rhett can’t help but laugh when he realizes you’ve fallen asleep. He leans back just enough to drag his thumb gently underneath your eye. “Sweetheart,” he tries again, a little louder.

“Mmm?” The sheets rustle as you start to wake, the sounds of a slow inhale as it fills your lungs. “Rhett?”

“Hey, sleepyhead,” and he thinks that maybe he’s never loved you so much as he does now. It’s not the first time he’s felt it–– he falls more in love with you every damn day. But his chest is full of something honey-thick, and warm. Your groggy expression is the sweetest thing he’s ever seen. “Think you fell asleep.” You blink some of the sleep from your eyes.

“Oh fuck!” you swear through a yawn. Your eyes seem bigger than ever when you peer up at him apologetically. “I’m sorry, baby. It’s just you were playing with my hair and your voice is so soothing and––”

“It’s okay,” he says softly, “it was kinda cute.”

“No, but I wanna hear what you were saying!”

“You’re tired, honey. Let’s go to sleep and I’ll tell you in the morning.”

“No,” you say, wiggling out of his embrace and sitting up. “I wanna hear everything. No details skipped.” Rhett only smiles up at you, expression growing mischievous, lips sealed tight.

“Here,” you say, oblivious to the fact that he’d do anything you asked. “You can put your head in my lap. I’ll play with your hair. But you have to tell me everything I missed.” He chuckles and tucks his head against your thigh. His eyes flutter shut and a happy sigh leaves him as you begin to card your fingers through his hair.

“Where’d I lose you?”

“I let the big dogs sit on my lap.” He grins up at you, eyes peeking open.

“Oh good, so you missed the proposal.” You freeze.

“The what?”

“You heard me.” And the smug bastard has the nerve to shut his eyes again, settling back into your lap.

“Rhett Abbott, you open your eyes right now.”

“Hmm… nope.” You tug at his hair but he just lets out a contented groan. He can’t see you glaring at him, and it’s hard to keep it up when your heart is threatening to melt down into nothing and kill you. You think that maybe you’ve never loved Rhett as much as you do in this very moment.

“Did you mean it?” you ask, voice suddenly small. Rhett opens his eyes, expression serious now.

“Yeah, I did.”

“And you’re not even gonna tell me?” you cry. He smiles and turns his head to press a kiss against your tummy.

“I’ll tell you everything else. I promise. But some things ought to be a surprise, don’t you think?” You let out a huff, but it’s all fondness.

“Okay, so I’m a pushover with the dogs, and?”

“You leave the mugs in the sink overnight because you can’t stand to be without me, even for a second.” You give him a look, but you know it’s true.

Luckily, if everything goes to plan, you won’t have to.

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x you #outer range imagine #lewis pullman x reader #nobody perceive me #pls and thank you

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travlersjoy444 · 1 year

Note

2012 Donnie with a secret human friend who he gets caught hanging out with by one of his brothers? I

Hm, good idea

'Cuz We Need Secrets

2012 Donatello x reader

It's pretty platonic, but one could read it as like an early stage of friends to lovers if they want to. In the text though it doesn't go anywhere past friendship. It's in Don's POV, and Donnie gets he/they pronouns. The reader's gender/pronouns aren't mentioned as per usual.

Work count: 3.1k

Warnings: Light angst, the age-old 2012 Donnie vs insecurity conflict, light swearing, a mentioned past crush on April

Donatello Hamato had not meant to befriend another human. Honestly, April and Casey were plenty as it was. More than plenty, actually, in Casey’s case sometimes.

In fact, they hadn’t even meant to befriend you in the first place, actually.

And yet here he was, sneaking you into the lair at three in the morning.

Hey, it wasn’t his fault that you were curious, and as a man of science, curiosity was something he highly encouraged!

“Ooh-kay, so you really weren’t joking about the ‘living in a sewer’ thing, huh?” you whistled, sounding more fascinated than judgemental as he opened the manhole cover. “I’ll admit it Dee, I almost believe you about the ninja thing now.”

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Oh yeah, ‘cause it’s the ninja-ing that’s unbelievable, not the mutant turtle thing.”

“Look, it’s New York! Mutant reptiles are a dime a dozen, bro. Ever seen Godzilla?” you teased.

Donnie snorted. “That takes place in Tokyo, actually.”

“Eh, it’s a big city. Same difference.” you said with a shrug, sticking your hands in your pockets casually- as if talking to a giant talking turtle was something completely normal for you.

Eh, he supposed it was, at this point. But he also knew for a fact that you had not been this chill when he first met you… But then again. That one was kinda on them, seeing as they were the one who showed up in your house unprompted.

(It hadn’t been personal! He’d needed a hiding place and your window had been open! You were basically asking for a mutant turtle teen to break in.)

(And apparently, he had basically been asking for a human teenager to hit him with a frying pan. Okay, he had maybe deserved that one.)

(Nonetheless, it had all worked out and you guys were buddies now! Yaaaay!)

“-onnie? Don? Don-tron? Dee, ya there?” you said, waving a hand in front of his face, effectively snapping him out of exposition mode.

“-huh? Oh, right, sewers, yeah.” Donnie grinned sheepishly. “Me first or you first?”

“Oh you, definitely. If there’s like, a sewer monster down there, I’d prefer to not be the one mauled by it.” you said definitively.

Donnie bit their tongue to keep from making a comment about how technically he was a sewer monster. He didn’t want you to think of him as a monster, regardless of how lighthearted the context was.

Honestly, it was so nice how you just treated them like a normal person- not that April didn’t, but y’know, she was…April. And he was a sewer monster.

Okay, that sentence didn’t make much sense: What he meant was that…April had already basically good as rejected him- whether because she genuinely didn’t like him or because he was a giant talking turtle, he had no clue. And he wasn’t even sure if April herself knew either.

So having you, a cool as shell human teenager who didn’t owe them your life (or at least not any more so than the rest of New York), like him and enjoy their company, made him want to scream in excitement.

Not that they would do that, obviously. That would be-um- really embarrassing!

So, shaking his head, he said “Sure, I’ll use my ninja-ing on any sewer monsters we happen to come across.”

“Aw, my hero.” you smiled, clasping your hands dramatically.

“Anytime.” he said, hoping they didn’t sound too awkward as he began to climb down the ladder. You followed him down, landing on the ground a few seconds after him.

“So am I gonna meet your brothers?” you said, looking around the tunnel curiously.

Donnie snorted. “Absolutely not, they’d kill me. Or, alternatively, they’d tell my dad who would then kill me.” (Or alternatively to the alternatively, you’d find them all much much cooler than Donatello. And then you’d be everyone’s friend instead of just his. Not that you weren’t allowed to have other friends, obviously, but still…he kinda liked being your favorite mutant turtle, if that made any sense?)

“Ooh, rule breaking. Sweet.” you said, sounding slightly nervous yet somehow relaxed. He did not even slightly understand how you managed that.

“Your family won’t like…murder me if I met them…right? Um, not because of the mutant thing, but because of the whole um…secret ninja thing.” you continued.

“No. Um. Maybe Raph would, but probably not- If anything, they’d be scared of you murdering me.” Donnie chuckled, leading you down the subway tunnel.

“Oh. I mean. I am entering your home secretly in the dead of night, so it…may not be entirely unfounded?” you shrugged. “But then again. Your home is a sewer, so I think that’s one point on the ‘Donnie is more likely to murder me than vice-versa’ scorecard.”

Donnie snorted. “Oh yeah, and the ‘being a scary mutant’ part is just normal?”

You shrugged. “The scarier part was when you showed up on my fire escape completely unannounced that one time.”

Donnie cringed at the mental image of Donnie-of-almost-a-year-ago. “I’m sorry about that again, I thought it was normal!”

You chuckled, patting his shell. “It’s fine dude, really. It’s hilarious in retrospect, actually, and let’s face it- you’re way too fun for me to stay mad at.”

“Oh- you think so?” Donnie grinned. “Thanks.”

“Although on the topic of mutants…um…really quick question, and you don’t have to answer, but…um….I’ve wondered this forever, but keep forgetting to ask you until now…” Eguh boy, here we go.

Donnie frowned. “Um…go on?”

“Does the space behind your shell ever itch and then you’re like. Unable to scratch it or reach it?” you said in one breath, looking slightly embarrassed as if you were asking something incredibly personal and maybe offensive.

Donnie blinked, trying their best not to laugh.

“...No?!”

“Oh okay cool. That’s good. That’s important. I’m happy for you.” you said, nodding.

“It’s like how it doesn’t itch under your fingernails, y’know?” Donnie chuckled.

“Huh. I guess that makes sense.” you said thoughtfully.

“Oh, here we are!” Donnie said, smiling as you stepped towards the turnstiles. “Lair sweet lair.”

You whistled. “Pretty neat! So this is where the secret science stuff happens?”

“Actually, that’s over here.” he said, waving proudly at the garage door by the entrance.

“Wooooah! You’ve got a sick personal lab?!” you grinned, stepping inside. “Oooh and it’s all purple too? I love this!”

“Ooh let’s keep the volume down and- oh my gosh, you think so?! Thanks! It’s mostly stuff I stole- um I mean found- from that old military junkyard, but uh hey! At least it’s purple!” they rambled, tossing their bo from hand to hand.

“There is no way that that’s legal,” you said, wandering around the lab. “Which just makes this all so much cooler, of course.”

“You could come with me next time!” …Idiot! “Um- if you want, obviously, no pressure-” he backpedaled.

“No, that sounds fantastic. I’d love to accompany you to the junkyard.” you said sincerely, before pausing. “....Woah….hey Dee, what’s with the um…organs in a tube?” you said.

Donnie winced. Of course. “Oh…that’s Timothy.”

“...Timothy.” you repeated. “Care to…y’know, elaborate?”

Donnie swallowed. “I still feel pretty awful about him…he was some human that wanted to become a vigilante, and um…got himself mutated.” they sighed, staring at the glowing remains. “I’m trying to turn him back, make a retromutagen…but um…I haven’t had any luck yet.” he finished glumly.

“Jeez.” you said softly. “That is…pretty brutal.”

“Yeah…” Donnie shrugged. “Um…yeah. I wish there was more I could do for him. Mostly I wish I had done a better job of stopping him…poor guy wasn’t too bright, but he definitely doesn’t deserve this…”

You patted them on the shoulder. “Hey, knowing you, you probably did your best, Dee.”

“Well, I certainly tried, but…I dunno. I should have tried harder.” he sighed, leaning into your shoulder pat that had somehow morphed into a side-hug.

“Well if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that you do your best Don. And plus, you’re working on that retromutagen, so hey! Maybe Timothy will be Timothy again someday, right?” you smiled.

“Yeah…” Donnie said, smiling half-heartedly. “Well…sorry about this, I’m being such a downer, huh?”

“Hey, s’okay! And Dee…I dunno much about chemistry, but if there’s anything I can do to help, lemme know, okay? Like anything. Even just bringing you snacks. I’m great at snacks.” you grinned.

“Really?” they smiled, more sincerely this time. “Gee (Y/N). That’d be great, actually- I have this bad habit where I forget to eat when I’m working, so that might actually help a lot to be honest! Man, you’re the best.” he grinned.

“I know, I know.” you said, tossing your hair. “Everyone says so- and I mean like, yeah no I totally get it, I am so cool.”

“Hey, you know what, I’ll believe it.” Donnie chuckled. “You’re definitely pretty c-”

“Hey Donnie, ya mind telling me why you’re all cozied up with a human?”

Donnie froze.

Uh oh.

“I think I was too loud.” you mouthed, eyes wide.

Donnie slowly turned around to see a short turtle with a cracked plastron and a look in his eyes that gave Donnie a very bad feeling.

“Hi Raph.” they squeaked.

“Hi Raph.” you echoed, waving weakly.

Raph narrowed his eyes, glaring at Donnie. “...So you finally get a partner and then keep it secret?” he smirked. “Come on Don! I promised I’d stop calling you sad-dorable!”

Donnie blinked, flustered. “N-no Raph, (Y/N)’s not my partner-”

“Sad-dorable?” you grinned, staring at Raph. “That’s…that’s pretty good, actually!”

“Right?! Mikey and Leo just said it was ‘unempathetic’- see Don, your partner gets it!” Raph grinned, prodding Donnie’s shoulder.

“Speaking of Leo.” said a new voice.

This time, both Raph and Donnie looked nervous. “Uh…heya, Fearless.” said Raph awkwardly, glancing over his shoulder.

“What the heck are you two doing with a human at three in the morning?!�� Leo exclaimed, looking incredibly done with his siblings’ crap. “God forbid a guy get any rest around here…”

“Aw shuddup Leo, you weren’t asleep.” Raph scoffed.

Leo suddenly looked a bit nervous. “Sure I was.”

“No, you were writing-”

“-I was writing a short story!” Leo said unconvincingly.

“Yeah, aka Captain Ryan x reader fanfiction.” Raph said flatly.

“Shut up Raphael.” Leo mumbled, blushing. Donnie resisted the urge to laugh in favor of stepping in front of you protectively.

“So what, has the whole lair decided to show up in my lab tonight?” Donnie said, rolling his eyes.

“Um-”

“Go back to bed Mikey.” they sighed, not even having to turn around to know that their youngest brother was there now too. “Actually, all of you, just go back to bed. Please.”

“Not fair, I wanna meet your secret lover!” Mikey groaned.

“-Friend! We are friends!” Donnie exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. “(Y/N) is my secret friend because you guys feel the need to drag our friends into the stupid ninja nonsense, and last time that happened, look what it did to Timothy!” they yelled.

Maybe they were exaggerating a bit. But he didn’t want you to get inevitably wrapped up in the world of aliens and mutants, and being around their brothers was a surefire way of ending up in it.

And on a more selfish note, maybe Donnie liked having one friend that was just his. Raph had Casey, Mikey had Renet, Leo had Karai, and Donnie…well, arguably there was April, but then, she thought of him as a repulsive sewer monster.

Maybe, as selfish as it was, Donnie wanted to have just one friend who liked him more than their brothers.

Raph, Leo, and Mikey stared at him. You also stared at him.

Donnie blinked, slowly lowering his hands. He swallowed. “Um. So. Yeah.”

Mikey raised his hand, but didn’t bother waiting to be called on. “Casey didn’t end up like the Pulverizer, and he’s friends with us!”

Raph shrugged. “Well yeah, but to be fair, Casey’s also kinda like a roach. I’m pretty sure he’s impossible to kill.”

You raised your hand like Mikey had. “Um, for the record, I don’t think I’ll be falling into a vat of mutagen any time soon. It’s ah…y’know, not exactly on the agenda.”

Donnie sighed, staring at the ground. “I know, I know…but like…What if. What if something happens and I can’t save you. What then? (Y/N), you mean a lot more to me personally than Timothy- I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt because of us.” they whispered.

Leo sighed. “It’s dangerous, yeah. We can’t deny that. But Dee…you didn’t have to keep it secret either.”

Raph coughed something that sounded like ‘Karai’, and Leo shot him a glare.

“We both know that was different.” he hissed.

“Cough- hypocrite- cough-” Raph continued.

You snorted. “I mean…well Dee, they know now, y’know? I don’t really plan on dealing with your ninja stuff, but if it makes ya feel any better, I took a bunch of martial arts classes a couple years ago. Obviously I’m not a freaking ninja, which is very cool and I believe you now by the way, but like…y’know, I can fight decently.”

“Oh yeah? Wanna spar?” said Raph, grinning.

“Not at three in the morning.” you dismissed.

“Aw.”

“Maybe tomorrow though.” you coughed.

“Nice.” Raph smirked, cracking his knuckles.

“Really?” Donnie said flatly.

“Uhm if Donnie’s not cool with it then I guess we can’t.” you said bluntly, giving Don a look.

Donnie sighed. He did kinda sound like a jerk, huh? “Whatever.” he said finally, fidgeting with their staff strap. “So um. Surprise, I guess. We’ve got a new friend!” they said, trying to smile at his brothers.

You stared at him for a second longer before Leo, who had looked kinda tired and ambivalent the whole time, suddenly jolted towards you. “Oh my god is that a SPACE HEROES SHIRT?!” he exclaimed.

You grinned. “Yeah! You like Space Heroes?!”

“Are you KIDDING? I love Space Heroes!” he squealed, bouncing up and down in a very Mikey-esque way. “Donnie I take it all back, your friend is amazing.”

Donnie gave a strained smile. “...Yup.”

Mikey gave him a look this time as he stepped away from the group. “Hey brah, are you…jelly?”

…At least he had the courtesy to whisper.

“What makes you say that?” Donnie mumbled.

“Well I mean…instead of like, being happy about your friend being like, friendly and bonding with us, you’re like…mad, dude.” Mikey said, poking them in the cheek. “Lookit that scowl bro! It says things, dude.”

“Is it that obvious?” Donnie sighed, both annoyed and relieved that Mikey had noticed his frustration.

“It’s pretty obvious, yup.”

“Coolio.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Mikey said.

Now normally, a talk with Mikey meant a lotta joking and Mikey being purposely annoying. But something about the way Mikey sounded so earnest made Donnie say:

“Eh…sure. (Y/N)’s busy, anyways.”

“C’mon, I gotta get my therapist boxers on.” Mikey said.

“I’m already regretting this.” Donnie deadpanned. “Since when does ‘Dr. Prankenstein’ have a therapy license?”

“Okay, okay man- no therapist boxers, I gotcha.” Mikey nodded, dragging Donnie to the far corner of the lab, where they sat down against the wall. “So what’s scraping your shell, dude?”

“Oh jeez. Please never say that again.”

“Ya dodged the question, D-man. D-person. D-gender neutral term.”

“Well…I guess it’s just that…I don’t know. It’s kind of unfair of me, but…well, (Y/N)’s my friend. You guys have your friends, so why can’t I have one friend who’s just there for…me, y’know?” Donnie tried to explain, watching you chat animatedly with Raph and Leo. “Anyways, of course (Y/N)’s getting along with everyone. (Y/N)’s awesome…and Raph and Leo are cool and strong…and obviously I’m hypercompetent too, but they’re the A-team for a reason…so I guess it’s just…well, next to them, who would ever wanna hang out with me?”

Mikey stared at them. “Um…(Y/N), probably? I mean like…you guys’ve been friends like…waaaaay longer than (Y/N) and Raph or (Y/N) and Leo, brah. And anyways, lookit how (Y/N) keeps looking at you, dude! It’s ‘cause you’re being weird and your friend is worried ‘bout it, yanno?”

Donnie snorted. “Sure.”

“Hey (Y/N), if you become friends with us you won’t ditch Donnie here, right?” Mikey hollered.

“Mikey-”

You raised an eyebrow. “...Wait, is that why you’re being weird, Don-tron?!”

“No- I mean- Maybe, I mean- it’s stupid, really-” they rambled.

“Yeah no that’s really fucking stupid.” you said.

“Jeez Don, really?” Raph said.

“Hey-”

“Not now dude, they’re dealin’ with brain stuff and…stuff.” Mikey said wisely, ushering Raph and Leo away.

You shook your head, coming over to the corner. “I mean- dude, we’ve been besties for what, a year now? Ya really think I’d ditch you like that?” you grinned, holding out your hand to help them up.

They took it hesitantly, smiling softly. “You mean…I’m your best friend?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I mean, I’d say so.”

“Oh.” he said, squeezing your hand. “I uh…didn’t know that. You’re mine, obviously, I just didn’t think I was yours.” they murmured, suddenly overcome with a weird, sweet emotion that he wasn’t quite sure how to describe.

“I can still befriend your brothers, dude…they’re cool. I like your family. But I like you best, so you don’t needa get all insecure on me, doofus.” you smiled. “And if you're still worried about safety, then you should teach me how to make cool weapons. Because not only would that be metal as fuck, but it would also be a great excuse to hang out with you.”

Donnie laughed. “Sure!”

There was a beat of silence, and Donnie glanced at you. “But um…I’m really sorry about tonight, (Y/N). I was…well, am being kind of a jerk, huh? Eugh. Sorry.”

You shrugged. “I mean yeah, but like, you talked it through and now we both are closer for it, right? And besides- meeting your brothers was awesome. But between the two of us, my favorite part of tonight has been hanging with you, you dork.”

Donnie grinned. “Same.”

You smiled at them again, and squeezed their hand one more time. “Ready to go face the others?”

“Ohhh boy, I should probably apologize to them too, huh?” Donnie winced, pushing the garage door open.

“Eh, I mean sure. Why not-”

But it was not their brothers who were waiting outside.

“Why is there a stranger in the lair? And more importantly- WHY ARE ALL MY CHILDREN OUT OF BED?” exclaimed Splinter, emerging from the shadows.

Oh no.

#tmnt x reader #tmnt 2012 x reader #gn!reader #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt 2012 donnie x reader #tmnt 2012 donnie #donnie x reader #tmnt donatello #donatello x reader #2k12 donnie #he/they donatello tmnt

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infinitydivine · 3 months

Text

Your Hidden Love ✨🎁 PAC reading

Hello everyone, I am back again with a new PAC reading. Thank you all for loving my previous PAC, I appreciate it.

If you could, please leave feedback as comments, reblogs, or Asks. It helps me to improve myself.

Choose your pile intuitively. Take what resonates and leave the other things. If you think this reading is not for you then choose another pile. If still it doesn't resonate then this might not be your reading. There are two Piles.

***If this reading resonates with you, DM me to book a reading with me. You can pay through Paypal or you can visit my Kofi shop too.

My Paid services Thank you for your support PAC Readings Valentine Special readings Paid Reading reviews

PILE 1- PILE 2

Welcome Pile 1

Your hidden love is in your loved ones, the ones you cherish the most. Maybe your pets, friends, or family members. It could be anyone whom you hold dear to you. You are loved by many but shown by none. What I mean is they love you but they don't want to acknowledge it publicly because they might need outer validation from people. Soul tribe. Your hidden love also comes from your soul tribe, if you haven't found them Spirits are telling me you will soon. I am seeing some of you have this mindset that you will never find love ..again too but this is not the case for you. You will find it but if it's hidden there is a reason for that. You are not alone in this. You must look here and there because love is all around you, you just have to open your eyes to it. I know you might have gone through a lot when it comes to trusting people but it is time for you to heal from that. There are people who love you, you are not alone my Loves.

Song for you- Dynamite BTS

Thank you for your kindness

Welcome Pile 2

Your hidden love theme is the love hidden in you for yourself. You have so much love to give to others yet you don't love yourself enough. Loving yourself is the best thing you can do for yourself. You are being called to take your power back to yourself, you are being called to invest in yourself more. Your existence enough is a great gift to the world, don't hide it. If you don't have friends don't worry,you will soon find your true friend circle. But for that you have to come out of your low self-esteem mentality where you think you are not enough for anyone to love you. YOU ARE ENOUGH. Chant this affirmation as a mantra and see miracles happening for you. Don't hide yourself my loves. It is time to come out of your shells. Show the world what you got. You are everything you will ever need. Remember it for as long as you need.

Song for you- Girls like you Maroon 5

Thank you for your kindness

Thank you for reading ❤️

Love, Infinity ❤️

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staytinyville · 3 months

Text

Who's Your Daddy?

Part of the Give Some Sugar Event brought to you by @wonderlandnet ! Check out the other amazing stories!

↣ Summary: You had been giving Yunho a hard time just to rile him up. While on Idol Radio to promote your group’s new album, fans began to see just the kind of relationship you had with ATEEZ's own golden retriever. Spoiler Alert! He doesn't act like one in bed.

↣ Characters/Pairing: Yunho x afab!reader

↣ Genre: Mature (MDNI)

↣ AU/Trope info: idol!au, idol!reader,

↣ Warnings: mean dom!Yunho, bratty!reader, degradation,

↣ Word Count: 2.3k

↣ A/N: I imagine this whole thing to be part of my made up universe with a girl group that is part of KQ. Honestly if you guys love them and all I am more than happy to create their own masterlist with imagines that cater to them. I also have so much lore for them too! I would love to answer questions if you guys have any!

Staytinyville’s Permanent Taglist

↣ Affiliates: @wonderlandnet , @cultofdionysusnet , @pirateeznet , @cromernet

↣ Special Thanks: Thank you @saradika-graphics for the amazing banners! Please go check her out if you have specific banners in mind. She is great!

The large smile on your face hadn’t left since the moment you had stepped into the studio with your bandmates and the hosts. Idol Radio was something you had always enjoyed being on because you got the chance of speaking a bit more freely with a fellow idol while also talking about things you enjoyed.

This season called for labelmates Yunho and Hongjoong to be the hosts–which you were so excited to be part of. You always loved doing things with any of the ATEEZ boys along with your other members.

You had been a trainee alongside them, having joined before Yunho and starting the girl group, Luuz, within KQ Entertainment. While your group had debuted a year after them, you had still grown very close for being in such a small company. You all worked well together and it was something the fans were quick to catch on.

Hongjoong and Yunho were talking about certain topics that the fans would bring up on Idol Radio social media, which led to the one you were currently having.

“Something that you guys do is express your love languages a lot throughout your little shows and all those.” Hongjoong spoke up, looking over at Yunho who nodded his head. “It's something that you do with everyone including us.” He explained looking back over at you and your two other members.

You sat closest to Hongjoong, swinging back and forth on the swivel chair. The oldest member followed you, seated in the middle. And your youngest member was stationed at the end.

“We appreciate that a lot.” Hongjoong added, making you smile wider.

“Oh yeah.” The oldest member spoke up first. “We each have different kinds for both giving and receiving.” She explained. “I really like when people give me their time but I really love giving words of affirmation.” She told the boys wanting to clear out what kind of person she was.

“I am a huge person when it comes to gift receiving.” The youngest laughed. “It sounds so bad but I swear it can be anything. A little girl once gave me a painted rock and to this day it’s in my room.” She continued her story. “For giving, I am the kind of person who tends to do acts of service.”

“With us, I feel how close we are and how well we get along those are just the kinds of things we do.” You turned to Hongjoong. “Just like how you guys all are so close, that is how we are. It’s common for us to do those kinds of things.”

“With how you are, how can we not?” Your oldest member laughed.

You were the only extrovert in the group. While the others were quiet and a bit more reserved, you were the one who brought them out of the shells. A lot of fans tended to compare you to Wooyoung or Yunho, but you were just the kind of person who took charge of a lot of things. That was why you were the leader. If you hadn’t demanded things, you weren’t sure if your group would even be a group.

You giggled hiding your face from the red blush blooming hearing the coos from the fans outside. “Personally, my love language is words of affirmation.” You added into the conversation. “And I enjoy gift giving.” You finished.

“With how you are I would assume it was physical touch.” Hongjoong snorted, causing Yunho to laugh in agreement.

“Are you kidding me?” The youngest butted in. “(Y/N), loves getting attention of any kind. She is almost always asking for physical touch.” She expressed.

“She does!” The oldest cackled. “She is always asking someone for a hug or to hold hands. She's so cute about it!”

Your face began to grow even more red, causing you to finally cover it with both hands. You began to laugh out in embarrassment which only made everyone else awed at how cute you were being. Your older member poked at your cheek as she awed and Hongjoong laughed loudly.

“We pass by in the hallways of KQ and she has to stop us with a handshake or high five or a full on hug.” Hongjoong expressed. “Like we have places to be!” He giggled, poking fun at you.

“Ya!” Your youngest shouted pointing at Hongjoong. “She does do that!”

“I saw her for the first time just not ask for that with Yunho the other day.” The oldest member confessed. “All she gave him was a hi.”

You sucked in a breath as a smile quickly overtook your lips. You kept your head down, pressing your lips together to keep from saying anything as you looked over at the tall man. He raised his eyebrow at you, tilting his head to the side in challenge.

“She did do that.” Yunho licked his lips, giving you a pointed look. “Very sad to not get a hug.”

“It was a cheery hello.” You spoke up, hands in your lap as you straighten your back.

“Sure.” Yunho tongued at his cheek, looking away from you.

You watched how his hands tapped at the table, veins popping out. Your shoulders dropped as you kept your eyes on them, zoning out for just a moment. You smacked your lips looking back up when Hongjoong switched the topic of conversation.

The rest of the radio show went easy and quickly. The group got to do a little dance for the title track on your latest album which meant getting Yunho and Hongjoong to join. Everytime Yunho would step closer to you, you would move to the other side, giggling when you would skip over.

You kept your hands behind your back the whole time when you weren’t doing anything, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. Each time you would catch Yunho’s gaze you would see him poke at his cheek with his tongue and his eyes give you warning looks. It made shivers go down your spine when you took in the kind of energy he was giving you.

“You guys are going back on tour this coming fall, right?” Yunho asked, looking at your other members.

You glared for a split second, pouting just a bit before turning to your members.

“Yes, we had a bit of a break before going to America to continue our Kings and Queens tour. From there we will be traveling to Europe, which should be fun.” The oldest shared.

You guys talked a little bit about what touring was like for each of you and how different it was to ATEEZ schedule and tour.

When the break came up, you and the girls would wave at the fans for a moment, reading over their signs and giving them kisses and hearts. Hongjoong and Yunho separated from the three of you, going over to the snack table where they had requested specific ones just for your groups. They knew what kind of things you liked so they decided to ask for those kinds of snacks.

You moved along the window, standing next to Yunho as you tried to look around him for what they had.

“Here.” Yunho said, handing you a bag of grapes.

Your eyes went wide and a large grin spread across your face as you took in the fruit. Just as you were about to reach out for them, Yunho was quick to swipe them out of your reach, causing you to pout.

“Yunho.” You whined, trying to reach out again. But he was quicker, taking a step back as he laughed to keep the facade that you were just messing around. He hid the grapes behind his back, looking at you expectantly.

“What do you say?” He asked, raising his brow as he looked at you with a demanding expression.

You rolled your eyes playfully, sticking your bottom lip out as you frowned. Yunho gave you the bag of grapes when the staff began to go back to their seats and were about to ask you all to return back to the radio. Your smile returned to your face as you ripped the plastic open and popped a grape into your mouth.

“You want words of affirmation?” Yunho whispered in your ear as he passed you. “Then earn them.”

*****

You laid on your back as quick pants were flowing out of your mouth. You were mewling, arching your body off the bed as Yunho laid kisses against your neck to rile you up. Your hands were tied to the bedpost with some tie he had laying around the room. Your hands were clenched in fists as the need to reach out for Yunho became too much.

But you knew why you were in the position you were in. You had warranted it.

“Want to be praised?” Yunho scoffed against your skin, hands trailing ticklishly along the length of your raised arms. “Not when you act like that.” He leaned up off of you, hands roughly following down your body as they applied harsh pressure which made you moan out and try to follow after them.

“What did you think you were going to get?” He asked, sitting on his knees as his chest was on display for you to see.

He mockingly pouted, eyes looking down at your legs that were clenched together as you wiggled around to get friction on your wet core. He almost laughed at how you wiggled about, knowing you weren’t going to get anything out of your restlessness. He splayed his fingers on your thigh, holding it down in place.

“Or is it that you want to be degraded?” He taunted, finger digging into the flesh of your thigh. “That’s what the brat wants?” He suddenly leaned forward, getting a gasp from you as you tried to move your head back from him.

“She likes when I call her a slut.” He mocked.

“No, I don’t.” You panted, moving your legs so that you could feel Yunho’s skin on your thighs at least. “Only good girl.” You whined, closing your eyes as Yunho’s large hand found purchase on your neck.

His fingers were long enough to not only cover the entirety of your throat, but to also reach up into your chin and cheeks. He dug the pads on his fingers into the flesh, shaking your head back and forth lightly.

“Not mine, that's for sure.” He scoffed, lightly shoving your head to the side as his fingers dug into your chubby cheeks.

“No!” You cried out when he moved away again. “Only Yunho’s good girl.” You babbled, trying to push him back into your hips to get some stimulation.

“No, no.” He got off the bed, moving to your side. “I haven’t seen her. Only a brat who likes to rile me up.” He tsked, shrugging to himself as he began to move about the room, leaving you to wither alone.

“Please.” You whined, pulling at the tie.

Your feet planted themselves onto the bed, hips thrusting forward as you clenched your legs together to ease the ache between them.

“Please what?” Yunho asked from the end of the bed. “You can use your words now.” He leaned over, grabbing your ankles before quickly shoving them back down the bed, stretching you out. He opened them further, keeping you from finding relief.

“Do it.” He demanded.

“Please, fuck me.” You pathetically whimpered, knees knocking together.

“Think I will?” He climbed back up the bed, getting between your legs. “With how you’ve been acting?” He scoffed.

“You got a lot of learning to do.” He shook his head, brushing hair away from your face as he kissed your cheek in a way that left you crying for more.

“Pretty baby doesn’t know how to act to get my attention.” He kept up his act. “Hm? Act like a brat and think things will go the way you want?” He rhetorically asked you. “You know I like things to go my way.”

He finally moved to be situated between your legs, his cock settled between your lips and head nudging at your clit. He grabbed your cheeks in one hand, making you face him as tears began to pool at your lashlines.

He smiled cruelly at the look on your face. Your eyes were completely unfocused, mouth dry from how you were breathing through it with your whines and pants. With his fingers along your cheeks, he squished them together getting your mouth to form an o shape.

You cried out when he roughly spit into it, jaw closing on instinct to swallow what he had given you. Yunho’s eyes almost rolled to the back of his head when he saw your tongue roll out for more. But he only groaned to himself, shutting his eyes for a moment to get back to his plan ahead.

“Want to be a good girl?” He told you. “Then let's see how many times you can cum until I'm satisfied.”

*****

You played with the mic for a moment, watching as your members waved at the fans who attended soundcheck. You smiled at the ones on your side, swinging your mic around as you hummed songs. A large and colorful sign caught your attention, making you squint to read it. You crouched for a moment, making a face as you read it.

The fans started to scream louder, swinging their signs around to see which one you were reading. You began to laugh as the question registered in your head, coming to a stand. You licked your lips reading it over again.

(Y/N), Who's your daddy?

A large grin spread across your face, teeth shining as you thought about how to answer. With a mischievous look you raised one arm and placed the other across your belt. Knowing the dance by heart you moved your hips from side to side, singing along to Illusion as you danced the way Yunho did.

You laughed wildly when the fans screamed and began to sing Illusion. But you gave the fan with the sign a wink, making them gasp and scream even louder as they jumped up and down. You just knew you were going to see it on social media later.

Permanent Taglist: @hecateslittlewitchling , @ldysmfrst , @rln-byg , @vampcharxter , @angieskzzzz , @puppyminnnie , @smilingtokki , @emtrades22 , @tinyelfperson

#kpop fanfic #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez yunho #ateez smut #yunho ateez #yunho x reader #yunho smut #yunho fanfic #wonderlandnet #cultofdionysusnet #pirateeznet #atz smut #atz x reader #atz fanfic #jung yunho #gimmesomesugar23

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jelsah27 · 11 months

Text

imposter syndrome talked ab just some forewarning

In History Class

MC: *walks into class with a small smile on their face*

Deuce: Good morning, MC. You seem happy today.

Ace: Yeah what's got you all smiley?

MC: Well, Kalim and Jamil were at my dorm the other day. Kalim really wanted to know about foods from my world and Jamil tagged along for obvious reasons. At on point Kalim wanted to look at my room and he found my snap-out-of-it post-it notes on the wall.

Deuce: Snap-out-of-it post-it notes?

MC: Oh, yeah they help remind me that a lot of the problems I think I have aren't really as problematic as I think. Like "Every personality is a creation of experiences that make you you." or "My friends like me because I am me". You see a while ago I figured out that I have a bit of Imposter Syndrome.

Ace: A bit of what?

MC: Well, it's pretty much I feel like I'm not the person everyone thinks I am. I'm not the gifted child everyone remembers or the smart person everyone seems to think I am. That if I can't hurry up and live up to everyone's expectations that they'll figure out I'm not as great a person they think I am and be disappointed and angry that all I am is an empty shell of who they believed I was and leave. Some times it will also come in the form of believing that my friends only want to be around me out of pity or that if I don't like what they like or want to do the same things as them then they will leave, even if they've reassured me they love me. I think the worst thoughts I ever got from it was when I started to believe that my personality was fake and that I didn't know why I was so different than the kid everyone liked. I started to believe that I had faked my personality from different shows, books, or even people to even have one.

MC: Honestly I didn't even realize it was imposter syndrome till someone else pointed it out to me after telling them this. I genuinely had no clue I was so disgusted with myself till I was talking with them about it and they pointed out that none of what I was saying was true, that everybody knew who I was and loved me as I am. I think I cried when they told me that.

Deuce: Prefect... I had no idea...

MC: It's alright, I've been learning to get better at combating it. Anyway, Kalim asked me about it and I basically told him and Jamil what I just told you. He then asked me what I'm doing to overcome it. So I told him about the main things that have helped. Reminding myself constantly that I am not fake or hiding who I am from people I love and who love me. Whenever I feel negative thoughts try to take over, think about one positive thing that I have done or something someone had said they love about me for every dark thought. If it gets to bad though, go to someone I trust and ask them flat out about those thoughts, it helps a lot. And twice a week I make a post-it or journal about one or two small things. Maybe a compliment someone gave me, or a task I completed. So every day or so since they've-

Jamil: *walks into the room* Prefect, here. I must get to class before Kalim catches something on fire I mean gets into trouble. Have a good day.*hands MC a small note and leaves the classroom*

MC: *smiling contently* It say 'Thank you for helping Kalim study yesterday great sevens know he needed it and your smile is unique'

Deuce: *getting out paper* If it helps you, I'll gladly join in.

Little bit of a rant u can skip I hope you enjoyed the post <3 Y'all I'm sorry I didn't mean to trauma dump but I really like the idea. But the story is true and I did cry (and it was in a restaurant) when my sis told me I was wrong and she knew who I really and she loves me. That our friends won't leave because all humans have opinions and we are allowed to clash. And that my personality isn't fake, that everyone's personality is what they've created themselves and that people add and take away from themselves all the time and work on parts of themselves they don't like to become better. That my brain was just being dark when there was many lights around me, waiting to be recognized. If any of y'all read this its just one side of imposter syndrome, there are a few versions and many levels of severity. I genuinely think you are awesome and perfectly imperfect the way you are!

Anywho thanks for reading!

#twst mc #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst #twst imagines #disney twisted wonderland #ace trappola #deuce spade #kalim x reader #twst kalim #kalim al asim #twst jamil #jamil viper #imposter syndrome #jamil x reader #twst duece #deuce x reader

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teymars · 7 months

Note

Imagine reader giving birth to twins boys

they become 14YO, and they are famous in the clan as troublemakers and Neteyam and reader have to deal with them ..

Ah isn’t that CUTE!!!

THIS IS SUCH A CUTESIE IDEA !!

-no warnings, just some fluff, family dynamics & sweet Dad(dy)!Neteyam (also mentions of bullying + fights if that counts??)

Loud caterwauling blasted throughout the camp, reaching you and Neteyam from within your family-hut. You glanced at your mate, resisting the incredible urge to roll your eyes, there were only two possible candidates for the source of that noise.

“Pshh, I’ll go sort it out, again.” Neteyam sighed, chucking his hands up in defeat. He quickly rose from his spot next to you and hightailed it to the awaiting ‘crime’ scene. For the past few weeks, your twin 14 year-old sons had been causing fights consistently amongst the clan’s young trainees.

You crouched for a moment, subconsciously counting down the moments before your lover’s deep, authoritative voice boomed over the ruckus outside. “BOYS, GET OVER HERE!!” The scolding your two son’s were now receiving increased in volume as Neteyam dragged them both by the neck, back into your hut.

“Ma ‘Teyam-” he cut you off swiftly “How many times do I have to repeat myself to you two?? You can’t just go around fighting people!” Neteyam bellowed, his tail thrashing angrily behind him.

“Sorry, Sir. It was my fault.” Tsyalu, the youngest twin, piped up bashfully. He tried hard to avoid his fathers menacing gaze. “That’s bullsh- ugf’ come on bro, you and I both know Rahaylo deserved it!” The eldest, Myerìn, blurted without shame, barely managing to dodge using ‘foul language’ infront of both his parents.

“Enough, I don’t care wether it was ‘deserved’. Tsy, you have to stop taking the heat for this skxawng! And YOU-” Neteyam gestured to a smirking Myerìn “-need to quit causing trouble, you read me??” Both boys nodded silently before stalking off to different parts of the hut.

You had observed the scolding, originally aiming to hold back a chuckle of amusement, until something in Tsy’s gaze and the way he spoke left you irked. You sat quietly beside him, assisting in preparing the fruits for dinner. Thankfully neither him nor his brother had been injured in the skirmish, you noted.

“What is the matter, sweet child?” You cooed, stroking the side of his cheek as slight tears swelled in his defeated eyes. “It’s nothing, mama..” the boy assured you, trying to hide his face. “Don’t be silly Tsyalu, you can tell me what’s wrong.” You encouraged, faintly aware of your husband’s ears flicking in interest at your conversation, as he watched from his place by the fire-pit.

“Well, we only keep fighting-” he broke off in a quiet sob “-be-because Rahaylo has been bullying me..” Both you and Neteyam fell stock-still at his words, feeling an onslaught of guilt overcome you. “Yea, and Dad told us to stick up for ourselves, so we did.” Myerìn informed, rather nonchalantly. Neteyam looked almost shell-shocked, having realised the poor communication that led to all this.

He moved closer to where you and both your sons were now crouched, reaching down to rest a hand on each boy’s shoulder comfortingly. “I’m sorry, boy. I had no idea.. why didn’t you say anything about this though? Violence is not a good way to solve these issues.” Neteyam offered, sounding solemn. “I- we didn’t want you to think we are weak, we thought you’d be proud of us, because we are brave like you.”

“Oh, Tsy..” you whispered, feeling ashamed that your children ever had to feel that way. “I am proud of you, both of you. So is your mother.. we just don’t want to see you both fighting all the time.” Your mate assured them, providing both with a warm embrace. “It is okay to come to us when somebody causes you trouble, we will help you, I promise.” He continued, allowing you to curl up at his side, joining the family hug. They both hummed in understanding.

“We are pretty brave though, right Dad?” Tsyalu whispered. “Just like you?” Myerìn added, hopefully. “Of course you are! You’re the bravest little warriors this clan has ever seen.” You and Neteyam chirped, nuzzling both boy’s foreheads affectionately. The twins smiled contentedly, feeling relieved as they relished within their father’s hard-earned approval.

“Sooo, who won?” Neteyam mused, smirking at his sons pridefully. “Neteyam!” You chided, smacking the back of his head playfully.

“Oel ngati kameie, my sons.”

Sorry this is a little short, I hope it lives up to what you had in mind! 🤍

Neteyam be getting some insane flashbacks 😭

#neteyam sully #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar #atwow #neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #atwow fanfiction #avatar2 #neteyam x you #dad!neteyam #neteyam x reader

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sirthisisa-wendys · 11 months

Note

For clarity, do you mean AFTER the events of part 2? And that Rindou couldn’t prevent Mikey from having his wife, which is what happened in part 2?? Just want to make sure I’m getting that right ❤️❤️

YES, YOU'RE RIGHT :)

And about Rindou - let's say Mikey found a way to sleep with his wife (blackmailing or something like this

I gotchu I gotchu I got this (I am very proud of what I wrote tonight)

Hand Her Over (Part 3): Ran Haitani/ Rindou Haitani/ Kakucho Hitto/ Sanzu Haruchiyo x Fem!Reader

Hand Her Over Megapost

wc: 2k

tw: lots of angst, non-con, betrayal?

masterlist

Ran Haitani

The bath is warm. Ran takes a hand and helps you out of your chair, guiding you easily into the shell-shaped tub. In silence, you sink into the water and let out a soft sigh before leaning back and closing your eyes.

Ran picks up the jar full of a rose face mask, and he opens it to smear the "mud" on his fingers. You close your eyes obediently, knowing what comes next. As your husband bends over the edge of the tub, you're absolutely still, not daring to move an inch. Ran carefully daubs the mask on your face, taking care to avoid your eyelids and lips.

"Is that good?" You nod, then open your eyes slowly. "Is the water okay?" You nod again.

Ran sits by the tub after cleansing his hands, and he watches you watch him. "I was thinking about getting away for a little while," he begins, smiling. "Perhaps to Ondres or Saint Thomas... Would you like to go?" You blink, still silent. Ran tries not to show his disappointment.

You hadn't spoken in almost two weeks since the incident.

Killing Mikey hadn't done a thing but shut you up, and you only nod or shake your head when asked questions. If you can't decide... then there was nothing. Ran tries to avoid cursing Mikey's ghost for your reaction to the traumatic events, but he fails every single day.

"I'll let you decide," Ran finally replies, giving you a taut smile before standing. "Maybe we can even go see your family for a little while." Ran catches yous shaking your head in the mirror, and his shoulders sag.

"We don't have to tell them anything," he murmurs, loosening his tie. "I just need you to know you're loved. You know I love you, right?" You nod, looking down at the water somberly. Ran looks at you momentarily before retreating into the walk-in closet. Inside, he scrubs at his face, trying to avoid the tears rolling down his cheeks and making his face puffy. He can't be seen crying. Not when he'd been hiding it for weeks and weeks. It wasn't a good look, and he had to be strong for you. All of this is for you.

He rubs and rubs and rubs at his eyes, trying not to be obvious about his crying. You couldn't see him - not when you're in the tub - but you might walk in on him trying to keep it together if you chose to get out.

When he emerges, he's satisfied that he's kept the tears at bay for another day. You're still in the tub, rubbing the mask off your face with slow, wet fingers.

"Let me get that for you, baby," Ran offers, and he wipes your face gingerly with a towel. "There. All better." He kisses you on the lips, and you kiss him back lightly, holding him there for more than a fraction of a second. Ran's heart swells, and he takes in your appearance with a bit of pride. "That's my girl," he whispers, cupping your cheek lovingly. "I'm gonna get you out of here if it's the last thing I do."

Rindou Haitani

"One way or another, she'll be mine."

Rindou is gripping the steering wheel with all of his might, his knuckles turning sheet white as he hurries home. He has to beat the clock. There's only a few minutes left and--

"There's a collision ahead. Your arrival will be delayed by four minutes." Rindou curses profusely, slamming his hand against the dashboard wildly.

"I have somewhere to be!"

Rindou considers abandoning the dumb car and taking off on foot, but that would do him no good. He'd be out of a very expensive car and also--

His phone rings, and the car picks up on the signal, displaying the caller on his navigation screen. It's you.

"Baby," Rindou pants, trying to remain calm. "What's going--"

"Rin," you hiss, the fear in your voice evident. "Rin, someone's trying to break in!"

"Get to the bedroom and lock the door," he advises you quickly, adrenaline rushing through his veins. "My gun is behind the recliner. Get it."

"The gun?" You're already asking questions, which isn't the way. You need to just obey, just for now.

"Questions later," Rindou quips, sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Are you in the bedroom?"

"Yes," you breathe, then he hears the fierce rattling. "I-I have the gun, but they're at the front door."

"Go into the closet," he replies. "Bolt it." The sounds on the other end seem to reflect that you're doing as you're told, and then you finally whisper,

"I'm in." Rindou exhales. Whoever is at the front door will be held off for at least ten minutes. That's enough time for him to get out of this traffic jam and back to the house. Not without him breaking a few laws, but he'd have to do something illegal to--

"They're in the house," you murmur, and Rindou tries to keep himself calm. But there's a loud bang and then voices rush through the other end.

"Y/n!" Rindou's shout is masked by the sound of another door bursting open and your frightened scream.

"Hold her; hold her down!"

Rindou's crying; the tears are rushing out of his eyes as he unbuckled his seat belt, intent on hurrying out of the car and running to the house even if his shoes fell off.

"Rindou," a voice purrs, and a chill works its way down his spine.

"Mikey, please don't do this."

"Thought you could evade me forever, hm?"

"Mikey, please; just let her go. I'll do whatever you want, I swear. Just let her--"

The phone is dropped to the floor and Rindou can hear you crying out for mercy in the background just as the road begins to clear up. But he can't move an inch.

"Mikey, Mikey, don't, do--" Your cries are cut short. Then there's grunting and groans and panting and--

A horn honks loudly, but even that doesn't stir Rindou from his moment of dissociation.

This isn't happening, he thinks to himself. It's all just a bad dream. It's all just a really bad dream.

Kakucho Hitto

Uphill. That's the only way Kakucho can describe how life has been since he escaped Tokyo. Life has been going uphill ever since.

He's sitting on his screened-in porch, and you're next to him, basking in the warmth of the southern sun.

"You ever think about what could have happened if we stayed?" you ask, and the thought shocks Kakucho into silence.

"No," he finally replies. "Why do you ask?"

You adjust your sunglasses and sigh. "I was just thinking... what if we had stayed?"

Kakucho shuts his book with an air of finality. "I would've killed my boss and probably been sent to prison."

But now he's happy. He's not in prison. He's still with you. And you have his child still in your belly, which is all he could ever ask for. The house, the car, the mediocre job, the average clothing? All of that was just extra. All he needed was you and the baby.

"But I didn't do that," he adds, with a smile. He places a hand on your stomach and kisses your forehead. "And our little boy is on the way in a month or so." You pat the hand on your stomach, and Kakucho opens his book again. There are only a few minutes between that and the phone ringing, and Kakucho - albeit begrudgingly - gets up to answer it.

The yellow corded phone is a relic from years and years ago, but you'd insisted on a landline in a house that screamed "old world charm," and who was Kakucho to deny you such a trivial pleasure?

"Hello," Kakucho begins.

"Hello." The voice on the other end sends Kakucho into a spiral. He drops his book and almost drops the phone, but the voice speaks again. "A shame you had to go all the way over there."

"What do you want?" Kakucho hisses, turning away from the direction of the porch.

"Your wife." Kakucho nearly snaps the phone in half with his grip. "She looks so beautiful in that little polka dot number." Kakucho glances towards the porch and sees you in a black and white polka dot dress. Fear races down his spine.

"You step one foot on my property, and I'll shoot your head off," Kakucho sneers. "You think I moved here on a whim?" His hand goes for the sawed-off shotgun by the door, but Mikey tsks.

"Do we have to resort to violence, again?"

"I'll do what I have to so I can protect my family." Mikey hesitates.

"That pesky f-word." He sighs. "This is your warning, Kakucho. There's nowhere you can run where I can't find you."

"Says you."

"Yes, says me. I'll let her have the kid," Mikey adds, and Kakucho can hear the smirk over the phone. "But after, you'll bring her back to me yourself. Or I'll deliver her to you in a body bag."

Kakucho finally finds his spine and sneers, "You'll probably have to keep that bag." Mikey chuckles.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Kakucho grunts. "You're gonna need one for yourself." And he slams the phone down on the receiver.

"You okay?" Your voice carries from the porch, and Kakucho shifts the shotgun to his other hand, carrying it up the stairs.

"Call an ambulance," he calls out to you, standing flat-footed as he looks through the spy hole of the house. He spots the informant across the way, and his finger finds the trigger. "But not for me."

Sanzu Haruchiyo

Some nights are easier than others. When Sanzu plies you with drinks and good food, you're more willing. But when he comes home, tired from working with the top boss in all of Japan, you're not ever wanting to be intimate with him.

You're more willing to allow him into your personal space, more willing to let him touch you, more willing to let him caress your body lovingly like he used to when you're not stone-cold sober.

Sanzu tries to avoid taking rejection personally. But when you turn a cold shoulder to him, his mind begins to wander. And the only way you can seem to open up at all is to be absolutely out of it. Do you hate him now?

"Is your wife still available to see me tonight?" Mikey's request doesn't come out of nowhere. He'd been hinting at a round two for a few weeks, but Sanzu hadn't been brave enough to say anything to you about the whole thing.

"I'll have to ask," Sanzu murmurs absentmindedly, shifting through some irrelevant papers on his desk. "She's been really distant lately."

"Oh," Mikey replies, leaning back in his chair and picking at his nails. "Sorry to hear that."

"Yeah." There's a long silence before Mikey whispers,

"Could it have anything to do with me?" The thought clicks almost as soon as Mikey says it. Sanzu's hands still on a blank manilla folder, and for a brief second, he wants to vomit. How had he not put the pieces together? Maybe you'd found Mikey more alluring than him, and you'd only thought of him to satisfy your needs now.

When Sanzu's eyes meet Mikey's, the answer in them is written plainly. And Sanzu grits his teeth to avoid losing his cool. A smirk crosses Mikey's face at the sight of the conflicted Haruchiyo.

All his life had been in service to this one man, this one genius, and now...

"Mikey," Sanzu breathes, feeling the betrayal stinging in his chest. "Please, don't."

"Sorry," Mikey replies, not at all sorry in tone. "Seems she really enjoyed having me as a lover. I'm guessing she never told you."

Sanzu is full of emotions, none of which he can place except for one distinct one: jealousy. It rips through him like a guillotine. "I'll be over tonight if you'd like to watch how your wife wants to be pleasured." The sad smile Mikey gives him is not at all piteous. "I'll bet I can teach you a thing or two, Haruchiyo."

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #ran haitani #ran haitani x reader #rindou haitani x reader #rindou haitani #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #sanzu haruchiyo #kakucho hitto x reader #kakucho hitto

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iouinotes · 3 months

Text

Heroic betrayal | Luke Castellan (part 2)

SPOILER FOR PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS AND THE BOOKS

pairing: Luke Castellan x female!reader

show: Percy Jackson and the Olympians

warnings: heavy angst, smut

word count: 3,7k

summary: After Luke's betrayal, you try to hold yourself together in the camp. Everything was fine until you meet him again. Then everything collapses.

a/n: I thought I should write a second part. So, here it is!

Also, do you guys a) want the reader to join Luke or b) fight against him? I would love to write something, when the story continues!

part one here

"Princess" his voice is a whisper in the darkness. A distant call that appears from all directions, but cannot be traced back.

I want to move, but I can't. My eyes squint but I still can't see anything. It's cold here, even if I don't know where I am.

Goosebumps spread across my skin. It feels like I'm choking on air. Mist brushes my skin, or maybe it's someones fingertips.

My heart beats faster, my breathing becomes less stable and yet my feet don't move forward. I can't see him, but I know he's here.

In my head, in my thoughts, in my dreams.

Then I feel a dark presence behind me, a shiver runs down my spine, but when I turn my head there is only darkness.

"Come back to me" his voice makes me tremble. It's so disturbing, the calm he radiates. This sort of security that he carries with his words.

"I am here. I will always be here. With you." He won't let me go. Every day it dominates my thoughts, influences my actions, my attitude, my feelings.

I cant escape him, even in my sleep.

When I wake up I feel so drained, as if I hadn't even slept. I'm almost the last one to get up, my siblings' beds are mostly already deserted.

When I try to get up, I have to hold on to my bed, I feel weak on my feet. My head hurts, my thoughts are messed up and as I get dressed and look in the mirror, I see the dark circles under my eyes and the pale skin. The face that stares back, is almost foreign to me.

As I search through my closet, in the corner of my eyes I see the oversized, orange shirt that once belonged to him. And when I remember his voice from my dream, tears appear in my eyes and I try my best to suppress them.

I feel like I left my heart behind, when I ran away from that ship. I don't want to admit it, but deep down I know that the only reason my heart is still beating is because he is out there. And I hold onto the secret hope, that he will come back to me. Because now that he's gone - no, that he's left me, there's a hole in my chest.

Never in my life have I felt emptier, so abandoned and alone.

I am just a shell of a person who once existed. At least that's how it feels. Without him, I have nothing to live for. I'm only here because I can't let my family down, because I can't leave Percy after he tries every day his best to care for me. In the last few weeks he has been like a little brother, I would hate to hurt him with my absence. So I stay. Keep fighting, train the newbies, prepare everyone for war.

I don't do anything else. Get up, exercise, eat something even if I'm not hungry, go to sleep and then dream about him. I'm unfocused and it's obvious, no matter how hard I try not to show it.

As I step into the sunlight, warmth embraces me, but I still feel cold inside. I hold my chin up and greet some of my friends. I see pity in all of their eyes.

But they know better than to talk to me about it. I couldn't, even if I wanted to.

He left me, he betrayed the whole camp. My once wonderful, supportive lover.

He is gone.

I walk past the tables, keeping my gaze straight ahead. I don't want to stay and hear the laughter of the others, especially the Hermes cabin, when the centerpiece, that once hold everything together is missing.

I think about going to the training hall, even though my body hurts and I'm unable to hold a weapon the right way. Everything reminds me of him and it hurts so much. So much, that I want to hide away and sometimes when I can avoid responsibility, I'm staying in the woods. At the tree where I last hid, during our game. It's comforting me in a special way, even when all I can really do is cry.

When I secretly turn in this direction and head into the woods, I don't notice how blonde curls follow me.

As soon as I reach the place, my knees buckle and I fall to the ground. Just staring at the tree makes me almost immediately tear up.

If only he were here. If only he was with me.

I jump when I feel a hand on my shoulder. But my reflexes suspend, as if they're asleep. I can't defend myself. Sometimes I think it would be better to escape this suffering.

Then I hear Percy's voice.

"Tough morning, huh? Mind, if I join you?" He is the only one, for unknown reasons, I can have close to me, when I feel vulnerable. With others, I always want to build a facade up, so that I don't look weak. But Percy doesn't make me feel weak, he just encourages me to feel. And I need that.

We sit in silence, I can't even count how many times he's seen me in this state. Yet he is still here.

"I'm really t-trying to hold it together but I- I can't. I can't live without him. It hurts." He keeps a distance from me, but him just being here is comforting.

At least it's one person who stayed.

⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️

I pour water on the last flames of the campfire and try my best to tidy the place up again. Chiron suggested, after the last, stressful days, that we play "Caputure the flag" again. And to no ones surprise, now that a driving force is gone, the Ares cabin won. So everyone celebrated, a banquet was held and everyone tried to ignore for this moment, that there is war ahead of us.

I was useless in the game, my mind was distracted and my hands were shaking. I was able to disarm a few people from the other team, but it wasn't nearly enough for it to really matter.

I'm on autopilot, I exist without really realizing it. Without really feeling anything.

Sometimes I can smile when Percy argues with Annabeth, like the clueless idiot he can be, because they both dont acknowledge their feelings for each other. Although it's actually very obvious how much they are drawn together, the trust they hold. It gives me some sort of comfort. At least the two of them will find their way to each other, if everything ends well.

Still, the happy moments are short-lived, because of the pain in my heart afterwards, which almost feels physical. Like a knife that keeps turning in the wound. As a reminder of what happened.

The day was exhausting, my eyes want to close on their own, but I hate seeing him in my dreams. He appears almost every night.

It's this fear that he's hiding, that he's lurking in the dark, like the monsters under your bed, that keep me from sleeping.

I would rather prefer the monster than him.

It's dark now, the clouds hide the stars and only the light in my lamp shows me my surroundings. I walk through the rows of benches and look over the square for a moment. It's so quiet here that it calms me down too.

Then I notice a hidden shadow at the edge of the forest, my muscles tighten and I lower my hand to grip the dagger in my pocket.

My heart beats fast, but before I can call someone, I see the outline of the person.

Tall, slim, confident.

Without any light, the person walks his way towards me, until he is so close, that I can see dark curls, a scar running across his face and the familiar eyes.

I blink. It feels like I'm losing my mind. I'm so shocked, I can't believe the sight of him. That he is actually here.

"No-" I hear myself whisper in fear. My voice is shaking.

"Y-you're not real. You are in my head. I'm just dreaming, you- you're not really here." But this time I'm not only hearing his voice, I also hear the sound of the lake and can actually see him. Can see every feature of his face and the desire in his eyes.

"Hello princess" It's all he says, but it's enough. I almost fall over as I take several steps back. The dagger presses into my leg.

Although there is so much I wanted to tell him, right now, I just want to disappear.

"Surprised to see me? My requests for you, to come back to me didn't work very well." The dreams. It really was him. Calling for me.

"I needed to see you." He says it as naturally as if I had last seen him yesterday. As if everything was normal. Like he was still my Luke.

I look around, trying to see if anyone else is awake, but everything is quiet.

To my horror, it feels like I can breathe properly again for the first time. As if he is part of the oxygen, which I need to survive. My heart is beating so fast, that I almost can't handle the feeling.

He moves towards me without hesitation or asking me for permission. He comes closer to me with every step he takes. My eyes widen and before I realise it, my body moves on his own and I'm holding my dagger to his neck.

But he doesn't move. He just looks at me. As if he knew my every thought and expected them all.

"There is the fire in you that I love so much. I was afraid it had extinguished." His voice. Deep and calming, it heals something within me that I thought was lost.

I can not think. It's a dream, it needs to be. I can only dream. He couldn't really be standing next to me.

The dagger in my hand is still directed to his neck, but his eyes are distracting me.

He distracts me from the real danger. Him.

His small smile leaves me trembeling and as his fingers slowly rise and brush my hair back, he leans forward despite my threating gesture.

I feel his lips against my ear. I inhale sharply, but I do nothing to move away from him. His hand moves lovingly along my arm, the touch feels as light as a feather.

"I knew you missed me, sweetheart." His hands begin to rub my back, finding their way to my neck to hold me tight against him. If I had any sense left in me, I would have pushed him away. Would have screamed and warned the camp.

But for the first time in all these months I feel alive again, feel at one with my heart. Because he is here. He holds all my love in his hands.

"Luke..." his name falls from my lips, it's like a blessing and torment at the same time. But more it feels like worship, like he's the only God I'm loyal to.

My mouth opens silently and I inhale his scent, as his lips brush against my cheeks. One of his hands pulls me closer to him, while the other one touches my face. His fingers stroke my lips, grabbing my chin and holding it up. Close to his own face.

I feel his breathing on my skin. My heart beats so fast that I almost vibrate with energy. I haven't felt so vivid in a long time.

Worse, I haven't felt so loved since he left.

"What do you want?" His lips ghost over my own, just a hint of what I could have.

"I-I want" I feel his smile, feel the butterflies that had died come back to life again. It's like his mere presence revives me.

His hands grip my waist, holding me tight to him, it makes my head float.

His lips brush my chin, leaving light kisses on my neck, making me feel desperate.

"Please, Luke-" The dagger falls from my hand and in the back of my mind, the noise of the weapon hitting the ground is like my death sentence.

But I pay no mind to that, my hands tangle into his hair and I try to stand on my tiptoes to reach him.

"You want me? Want me to kiss you?" Our foreheads touch. It's all forgotten, everything. Expect him. As if he had casted a spell in me to forget everything or maybe I just wanted to forget for that moment.

Then he kisses me.

And I think my consciousness left my body. I just want to be close to him, everything he gives, I will gladly take. His lips are hot against my own and a shiver runs through my body as his kisses become more possessive.

When he tries to pull away, I wrap my arms around him. A satisfied grin spreads across his face as he notices my desperation.

I just don't want him to disappear again.

He leaves several small kisses as if he was trying to summon me back to the real world, even though he obviously enjoys that I lose myself in him. He chuckles darkly, but it doesn't help me to clear my head. Almost immediately he lets his tongue graze my lower lip, asking to be let in.

His hands wander under my shirt and absentmindedly loosen my tight pants. When his fingers stroke my clothed middle, I moan silently. The sound echoes between our bodies and his tongue slides into my mouth, exploring every familiar spot. It almost takes all my breath away.

I feel a wetness forming in my underwear, the touch of his fingers alone isn't enough.

"You feel that? That pussy missed me too. Bet, you must have felt so empty without me. Don't worry, I'll make sure this never happens again."

Without warning me, he slides his fingers into my underwear and begins stroking slowly to tease me. His thumb presses against my clitoris with a delicious pressure, his mouth swallowing the sound that escapes me.

"God, I love seeing you like this. So fucking sweet and unable to resist me." His other hand slides to my face, touching my nose, lingering over my lips and tapping them.

Without thinking, I open my mouth, one of his finger sneaks in and presses decisively on my tongue. My head feels like it's floating in the middle of nowhere.

"That's how I like you, always so responsive. I'll take care of you, love. You'll feel so good in no time."

Then he pushes me against the large dining table and lifts me onto it. I open my eyes, see his blurry face infront of me and whimper slightly, when his hand leaves my pants.

"Shhh, my darling. I have something better planned for you."

He helps me take off my pants, my hips lift in support, and when the air hits my heated skin, I get goosebumps.

His fingers stroke my thighs and as he makes eye contact with me, he lowers himself to his knees. His lips gently touch the inner side of my thighs, he kisses along them until he hovers over my center. He grins deviously as he runs his tongue over the small piece of clothing, my eyes flutter and all I can hear is my heavy breathing.

His finger strokes me for a moment until he finally hooks one at the top of my underwear and slowly pulls them down my legs. It disappears into the dark, but judging by the rustling, he put it in his own pocket.

I look down at him, see his shining eyes and the adoring expression. Before I can say anything, he lowers his head and licks through my folds. His hands rest on my thighs, the grip so strong that it grounds me. My hands reach into his locks.

His nose brushes against my clitoris, and when a scream tries to escape me, I put my hand over my mouth.

The feeling of his tongue is so intense that all my thoughts focus on these movements. I let my hips press against his face in circular motions, my mouth hanging open as he continues pleasuring me with his tongue.

Then suddenly his mouth leaves me for a moment, he rises slightly and when I'm about to complain, he sinks a finger into me. My eyes almost roll back.

"Shut your pretty mouth and let me do my thing, understand?" I nod, but his finger feels so good, that I can't register all of his words. He shuckles.

"I don't think I've done a good job yet, if you can still concentrate. We have to change that, right?" His second finger pushes into me and makes scissoring movements, small muffled noises leave my mouth.

His other hand wanders across my stomach to my breasts until it it grasps my neck and squeezes lightly, a moan escapes me.

Then I hear his dark voice above me.

"If I could I would destroy you, God the things you do to me-" His mouth sucks a hickey on my neck, if he wanted to, he could probably break any resistance in me with just a few more movements of his lips.

His hand wanders down my sides. As I mess up his hair, he grabs my hands and pushes them onto the table.

A third finger is inserted into me and I feel a growing tight feeling inside me. It's getting darker around us and as I start to look for the lamp, he pinches my nipples under my shirt.

I whine in response. "It's getting dark, I-I only want to see you." For a moment his movements stop inside me and he just looks at me. His eyes so loving, that it almost makes my heart explode.

Then he pushes back my hair, which has come loose from my hair band and his hand cups the back of my head. Pushing my face forward a little, his lips linger on my forehead for a moment.

The butterflies in my stomach feel like they're going crazy. Probably because he drives me insane.

When he pulls back, he looks at me like I'm the only one who exists in this world.

It feels like our souls are coming together again.

His hand, which is still under my shirt, starts massaging my breasts and I breathe heavily, enjoying the gentle pulling and kneading of his hands.

"Take off my clothes, princess." My hands come up from the table to undo his belt, I pull his pants down a little and stroke his clothed member. He hisses quietly and pulls my shirt over my head, leaving me in my bra which he quickly undoes.

He kisses my breasts and leaves a trail down to my stomach. His hot breath makes me dizzy. When I pull down his underwear and grasp his member properly, he lifts his head. Heavy breaths escape him as I continue to stroke him and touch his tip with my thumb.

I see him shaking, but then his lips are on mine again and he's kissing me hot. His hand grasps my own and releases it from him, his fingers burying themselves in my hair to steer my head.

I look at him with glassy eyes.

"Come here" he whispers, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulls me towards him. His tip lingers over my entrance, his precum dripping onto me.

"Want you-" my voice is quiet but desperate. I'm sure I look like a complete mess.

"You want to be fucked, hmm? Are you sure you deserve it?" I nod like a complete idiot, but I don't care anymore.

His cock brushes against my entrance and as I try to push myself onto him, he holds my hips firmly.

Then he whispers "Would you let someone else fuck you? Allow someone to see you like that? Be willing to do anything just to get a cock? Would you?" He sinks into me so slowly that I can feel every vein. My head becomes heavy.

"Oh I know how quickly you get lost in your head, darling. But do you still know that it's me who fucks you so well?" His first powerful thrust leaves me unable to breathe, my hands desperately clinge to his shoulders.

"I think you should prove to me that you are only mine. Am I right?" I nod, trying my best to concentrate, but he's filling me so well.

"O-only you" at my words, he starts to move faster.

"That's right, princess. Only mine. Mine to fuck, mine to keep."

I drop my head onto his shoulder and moan, the feeling so good that I can only focus on it. His hand wraps around my waist and pushes me onto him, his thrusts increasing in force.

"S-so good...Luke, you f-feel so good"

"You dont get to come now, are you listening to me? You're going to pull yourself together and be a good girl." I whine, feel my eyes watering and I try to ignore the growing feeling in my stomach.

"Because if you don't listen to me, then the gods help you, I won't stop anytime soon." My hand grasps his neck and I try to make eye contact.

"Just a little more and you'll be where I want you. Hold on, princess" he slows down, looking into my eyes and cupping my neck. Fucking me slowly.

My mouth opens, but no words leave me. The brown of his eyes almost devours me. He hits a place deep inside me that only he can reach and my head begins to spin, I become almost boneless in his grip. I hear his voice in my ear, like an incantation.

"You are so good to me, darling. Just a little more-"

Then suddenly, my vision becomes blurry and I feel every touch of his, every fingertip, every strand of hair that brushes against me and the thrusts of his cock even more intense. My surroundings falls silent, I just lie in his arms and don't want anything else.

"I got you. Want to be good? Then come for me." So I let his hands work magic, they squeeze my clit and almost make me scream. His thrusts become more rough, his breathing ragged. My skin feels like it's on fire, my fingernails scratch his back.

"Just like that, darling. Do you feel how well I fill you up? You just need me, you hear me? Remember that in your pretty head. Only I am important. You just have to believe me."

With these words I come. His lips press against mine and it feels like he's stealing my soul. I can't bring myself to fight it.

When he comes too, I feel his seed inside me, feel him pushing it further into me. It almost makes me come a second time.

He pauses in his movements, placing kisses all over my skin. His fingers trace over me, shaping hearts and stars like those above us.

I feel so happy as we silently look at each other. I can't stop myself from saying the words out loud.

"I love you."

When I think he's about to kiss me, he pulls away. Drops his hands and just looks at me. I feel my heart sink painfully in my chest. The feeling makes me despair.

"You do?" My eyebrows furrow, I suddenly feel very exposed in front of him. I take my top and pull it over my head. His eyes follow my movements.

"Because you can only have one, princess. Me or them. You decide." It takes me a moment to remember, to realize that we are still in camp. To remember why things are the way they are.

Before I can say anything, he speaks again.

"Are you happy? Now that I'm here? Can you honestly say that you wouldn't change your mind if you could? Because, that's why I'm here, this time you can choose right. You can choose me."

"Luke, I want to choose you. I would always choose you. But I can't choose what you dedicated your life to. I cannot commit myself to the evil."

"You think I'm evil? You really think I'm doing the wrong thing? The gods are the ones who don't know any better. Who abandon their children. You are on their side, even though they themselves deceive and manipulate each other?" I always knew Luke hated the gods. That he blames them and especially his father for all the suffering. For every pain he had to go trough, even when he was still so young.

He takes another step towards me. I stand still, only watching him come closer again.

"You are naive if you think the gods care about anything other than themselves. They are deceitful, egoistic beings who must be destroyed. Then everything can start again, the world is better off without them. Being loyal to Kronos is the only way to ever be free."

I shake my head.

"Kronos will plunge everything into darkness, how can you not notice? It's worse than anything we could ever imagine. Luke, he doesn't want the happiness of his followers, he just wants power."

"So am I. You always knew that."

"No. I knew life wasn't easy for you. But I never thought you would give up everything just to get revenge."

"I didn't give up everything, just what was necessary. I will never give up on you, otherwise why am I here? I want you to come with me."

His hands cup my cheeks and look into my eyes. His one shine with desperation. As his request hangs like a weight over my shoulder, I feel everything inside me tighten.

He will leave me again.

"You...could stay? We'll be able to sort it out together, you can still make up your mind. Or let's escape, let's get away from here. Where nobody knows us."

"Princess, I want everyone to know who I am and what I've done to get there. I'm not hiding and you shouldn't be either. You dont achieve Glory that way."

"I'd rather be a loser than die. Because that will happen, if you continue to serve Kronos. How can you not know that the bad guys always lose?"

I look into his eyes. He is so close to me and yet so far away. It kills me.

"Because I won't lose. I never lose. And I won't lose you either."

#luke castellan #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #x reader #love #smut #fanfic #in love #love confessions #betrayal

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just-prime · 7 months

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Ahsoka is so slow I could cry. She was trained by Anakin and presumably Obi-wan and several other Jedi, and Rosario can hardly do an actual lightsaber twirl, let alone make me believe she could survive Ventress, Maul, Grievous, or Vader, survive order 66, or run in a way that looks fast. Bo-Katan moves faster, Shin moves faster, Sabine moves faster, Ezra moves faster, even Ewan's lazy twirls while walking around and not actively engaged in battle in the prequels were roughly as fast as Rosario's in an actual duel.

It's also canon that in this era, in a less prequels flashy version of standard Jedi abilities, a Jedi can leap SEVERAL feet. Luke in ROTJ- even GROGU can jump higher, while Rosario's feet are consistently glued to the ground. Her choreography and speed are so inconsistent with this established era and people keep writing it off and praising it as her fighting like a samurai now, even though it makes NO sense for her to, given who trained her. She isn't A New Hope Obi-wan, nor sad cave dwelling Obi-wan who hasn't stretched or lifted a weapon in a decade, and a 44 year old Jedi is still supposed to be in their prime.

I truly wonder if part of it is that they can't keep her lekku on properly if she does a flip, and they are shorter because they were meant to be more practical, but I'm really not seeing a character agile enough to need stunt modified lekku.

If they couldn't bring this to life in live action convincingly, it should have remained animated and each passing week demonstrates this more and more.

I'm sorry to anon into your inbox like this, but your post about the last episode has been so refreshing, and I've felt like I've been watching a completely different show than other people and don't know how they considered any of the actors ready. (Rosario has said she was training during filming). Thank you for your brutally honest take, you're spot on on all counts.

Couple of things.

A) I agree with everything you just said. Always feel free to come and rant into my asks.

B) I HAVE BEEN ANTI TINY LEKKU SINCE MANDO S2. It's laughable that we've seen cosplayers with more Rebels accurate headpieces. And of course everyone defends it with the 'it wouldn't be fair to the stunt person to have them try and do flips in that' and it's like NEWSFLASH Ahsoka isn't doing flips anyway!!! And sure, they probably stuck Rosario in a 5 week sword training class, but she's clearly not had to do any serious combat training given how clunky her fights are. And again, this was also a problem back in Mando s2, only she was in the middle of a foggy woods, so it was easier to hide the fact that she is incompetent when it comes to fight choreography.

C) "If they couldn't bring this to life in live action convincingly, it should have remained animated" Exactly. This is why every passing day I am increasingly pissed that this show killed and ate the animated Rebels sequel series that was in fucking development. Everything about this show, from Ahsoka, to Hera (hell, even TBoBF cameos like Cad Banes) prove that Disney is not willing to shell out for a decent makeup and/or CG designer. No shade to the artists that are currently working on it, they are doing their jobs to the best of their abilities. What I mean is they didn't have anyone on set that was in a high enough positions to say 'Hey, have any of you heard of contouring?' Like, just looking at the alien makeup of the OT...which somehow holds up better than state of the art Disney budget makeup. It's just fucking embarrassing at this point. There is no reason everyone should look as flat as they do, but it's no surprise that they do when mary elizabeth winstead is celebrating that her makeup only took an hour. Sure, it's understandable that you don't want to be sitting in the makeup chair every morning of hours on end, but in the end you are an actor who signed up to play an alien...Suck it up buttercup.

D) I totally understand how hard it is to be not liking this show right now. The amount of people who've told me that "well, clearly it's just not made for you" after I point out a simple fact that a character is out of character is painful. Looking at twitter after each episode as everyone seems to think Filoni is creating the second coming is painful. Because it really does feel like we're watching a different show than them.

Okay, I think I covered everything. Thank you again for your kind words and your wonderful rant!!!

#rambles #dave filoni critical #ahsoka critical #ahsoka series #ahsoka spoilers #star wars #prime responds #anti filoni

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philliam-writes · 1 year

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you are in the earth of me [01]

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

Content: cot3 +1 (and kipps), canon-typical violence & horror, loss of family member (not just Lockwood), found family, touch starved Lockwood, childhood friends Kipps & Reader, childhood trauma, slow burn, rivals to lovers (if this stays a Lockwood/Reader), mature language (swearing), aged up characters (everybody's in their early 20s; Kipps is mid-20s), fem! Reader though pronouns are used sparingly and no use of y/n

Summary: “Ton—Anfonie ‘Ockwoo’.” You nod, and finally swallow your mouthful of food. “I’ve heard things about you.” Lockwood’s dark eyes slide over to Kipps for a second, glinting like a knife drawn out of its sheath. He gives you a nice, easy smile. “Only good things, I presume?” You feel your face scrunch up at the memory of Kipps’s curses, threats and very imaginative ways of what he’d do with his rapier and a very specific part of Lockwood’s body. “Yeah, uhm … things.”

Notes: [02]

Words: 5.1k

A/N: Words will never suffice how much Lockwood & Co. has carried me through some of the toughest parts of my life. To see it adapted to a show is SO EXCITING, I couldn't help but be a little self-indulgent and plan out a whole ass story for my favourite three (+ Kipps) ghost hunters. So here we go.

This could either stay a Lockwood/fem!Reader or I could easily change it into Locklyle or even freaking poly cot3 x Reader or just Locklyle depending on what people want to read. I'm fine with pretty much everything; I just want my silly little Reader joining 35 Portland Row because I am in DIRE NEED OF FOUND FAMILY AND JUST SELF-INDULGENT GHOST HUNTING

So yeah, I'm totally open to people requesting Locklyle or anything for this one, but it's still gonna be from Reader's POV and focusing on an original story with action and characters studies and personal growth. Also sorry for any mistakes, English isn't my first language and I'd be super happy if someone offered to become my beta-reader for this! Any feedback is super super appreciated!!

01: let the dead hollers hum

when i first saw you, the end was soon to bethlehem it slouched and then it must've caught a good look at you

—hozier: nfwmb

At almost two in the morning the streets should be empty of people and cars, yet you manage to nearly get hit by a night cab turning down Tredegar Road. Its ghastly horn echoes like the wail of a Banshee through the dark, disturbing the peaceful night. Across the street, a kitchen light flickers to life inside a building. A shadow moves behind the white curtains, pausing for a second to look out at the street.

Bracing against the cutting wind, you turn up your maroon trenchcoat’s collar and duck your head like a turtle trying to hide inside its shell. It would have been much colder without your gloves now that the early winter bite is coming, but it’s still very unpleasant to be outside after the sun has set. Today is a clearer night, despite the day of rain; the moon chases stray wisps of cloud across an otherwise unmarked black sky.

London turns in earlier than usual now that the nights grow longer and colder—and more dangerous as well. Just yesterday you heard two more night-watch kids have succumbed to ghost-lock down at the warehouses near Blackfriars when they got distracted trying to warm up from the freezing evening rain that had set in after eleven. They turned into easy pickings for a Drowner lurking beneath the docs—former scoundrels who ended their sorry lives in the water by drowning. They rarely make a pleasant sight with their bloated limbs and skin wrinkled so hard it is peeling off like layers of paint.

It makes you glad to feel the familiar weight of your rapier hanging from your hip holster, to know that just within short reach, everything you need to protect yourself is at your disposal. That and the salt bombs around your belt. It’s hard not to feel safe while carrying around something with ‘bomb’ in its name.

You find the meeting point you’ve been summoned to at the end of the street. The Green Goose is a two-floor building with the restaurant at the bottom and what you can only assume the storage and other facilities upstairs. All sun-blinds on the first floor are drawn shut.

Few London establishments are open during the night, and fewest of all in the dark hours before the dawn. But places like this, catering for agents or night-watch kids, are easily recognised by the additional fortification against possibly unwanted visitors. High up where the first floor meets the second, heavy mistletoe bushes run around the whole building like a gigantic garland. You imagine in summer this would be lavender blooms, plunging the whole street into their thick, sweet scent. The door and windows are laced with iron grilles, and overhung with battered ghost-lamps. A few wooden dining tables and benches remain vacated outside, left to their own until the warmth of spring returns.

After a first glance inside the premise through the grimy windows, you don’t spot your friend. How much easier this would be if you could carry a phone around, just to check if you are at the right place. Now all you have to go on is his cryptic call before your shift started this morning, and a vague sense of the kind of establishments he likes based to his tastes.

Good thing you have known him for almost a decade.

But that doesn’t really give you an idea what exactly Quill Kipps wants from you. Maybe help with a case? Or he has finally realised he has a crush on his co-worker, that lemony-smelling Kat or Kate, and now he needs advice. Not hanging out at the dead of the night would be a preferable start.

Small bells jingle when you push the door open with your shoulder, and a waft of warm air scented with grease and coffee hits your nose, bringing heat back to your face. It looks a lot smaller than from the outside, narrow and with the sitting area stretched in an L-shape around the bar and counter in the middle. Behind that a pair of slightly askew doors lead to the kitchen where you can hear a radio play.

The first row of tables line alongside the window, then disappear further into the back. In the corner, two night-watch kids sit huddled together, quietly snoring and drooling on each other’s shoulders with their meagre food spread before them. A waitress with short black hair and a chubby chin standing behind the counter looks up from a magazine, stares at you, and blows out a baby-blue bubble of gum until it pops loudly.

She raises an eyebrow.

You raise one back at her.

From the other side of the entrance, you hear Kipps calling your name. At that, the waitress gives you a single, polite nod which you answer alike, as though you are two cowboys engaged in a stand-off who don’t want to shoot each other.

Marching down the narrow aisle, you pass an occupied table and accidentally bump into it. Cutlery rattles against an empty plate. You mumble a half-hearted apology and move on, barely listening to the grumbled answer or really looking at the man clad in black sitting there. He gives of a sweet, heavy scent you can’t really place, and quickly move on.

Knowing you’d arrive in a foul mood, Kipps has already ordered your favourite midnight snack after a hard day’s work: coffee and a simple English breakfast with a fried egg, hot and greasy sausages, crispy bacon, tomatoes and mushrooms on the side.

“It better be important, Kippy,” you say in lieu of hello, manoeuvring over his lap to the unoccupied seat by the window, using elbows and knees to execute a complicated dance with him so you can squeeze into the narrow booth. He grunts and makes barely any effort to make you room. His outstretched legs take up a disproportionate amount of real estate. “I got a ten hour shift behind me and I’m desperate for my bed.”

“You certainly smell like after a ten hour shift,” he comments, wrinkling his nose. Of course he looks well kempt and neat as always with not a single ginger curl on his head out of order. But there are dark circles under his eyes as though someone put a charcoal pen to his skin, betraying his tidy appearance. His eyes flit over your face for a second, scanning it for any injuries.

You give him your best shit-eating grin and wolf down on your eggs when someone clears his throat from across the table—and that’s when you realise Kipps isn’t alone.

Nursing a cup of tea, opposite you sits a young man in a black suit, slender and tall, his short, unruly hair swept back elegantly. He watches you with mild interest, his thin lips slightly pursed, like someone would watch a flock of hungry pigeons plunge towards bread crumbs spread by tourists at Hyde Park—nothing out of order. Just another regular sight in the big city on a late afternoon stroll.

You hold his steady, dark eyes when you bite into your egg, feeling the yolk escape at the corners of your mouth and run down your chin. You didn’t even realise how much you were starving.

“Hwo’sh yor fren’, ‘Ippy?” you ask with your mouth full because you have absolutely zero shame.

Kipps swallows a groan.

“Yes, Kippy,” the young man replies with the most soothing, alluring voice you have ever heard, as though he’s eaten silk and honey for breakfast. “Why don’t you introduce us?”

Kipps makes a disapproving noise in the back of his throat. Annoyance radiates off him stronger than any other-light you have seen on apparitions. “Friend is a bit much,” he says slowly, as though he has to talk around the word ‘friend’ because it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. “That’s Lockwood.” You recognise his tone. It sounds a lot as if he’s saying That’s the biggest nuisance of my life.

The effect is pretty much the same.

You nearly choke on your next bite and aim for the coffee to wash it down. When you jerk your head around to stare at Kipps in disbelief, your eyes stretch wider than the dinner plate before you. Kipps must read what’s written on your face: That’s Lockwood? Tony Lockwood you can’t shut up about? Your arch-nemesis?

Kipps rolls his eyes so hard it must give him a spectacular view of his skull. Just humour me, his expression says.

“Ton—Anfonie ‘Ockwoo’.” You nod, and finally swallow your mouthful of food. “I’ve heard things about you.”

Lockwood’s dark eyes slide over to Kipps for a second, glinting like a knife drawn out of its sheath. He gives you a nice, easy smile. “Only good things, I presume?”

You feel your face scrunch up at the memory of Kipps’s curses, threats and very imaginative ways of what he’d do with his rapier and a very specific part of Lockwood’s body. “Yeah, uhm … things.”

Lockwood seems to understand, for he doesn’t inquire further, but his smile seems to freeze a little at the corners. “And you are?”

“Kipps’s friend.” You stuff the rest of your toast into your mouth and give your name. Lockwood blinks and keeps a polite smile, and doesn’t ask even though you’re sure he didn’t understand a word you just said.

“I wasn’t aware Kipps has friends.” Lockwood’s eyes have taken on a taunting glint, and he leans forward as he speaks. “Certainly not friends at Rotwell.”

His eyes drop to the crest stitched onto the upper part of your sleeve on your trench-coat: a snarling lion holding a rapier in its front paw—the agency’s symbol—before he gives Kipps a pointed look as though that small detail would have been worth mentioning before they got up to whatever this is.

Kipps ignores him. “I called you because I need your help,” he says, sliding napkins over to you which you promptly ignore. “I need your Talent.”

You halt at that and give him a long, level look. Kipps doesn’t shy away from the weight of your gaze, and suddenly you become painfully aware of the tension surrounding them, thick enough you could cut it with your dull knife.

Slowly, you chew your sausage. “What exactly are we talking about?” you ask, voice quieter, matching Kipps’s. He’s doing that little wiggle in his seat, shifting his weight from left to right he always does when bracing for potential conflict. When he trails his eyes away from you, you follow them to Lockwood who is looking at Kipps as though seeing him for the first time.

From the pockets of his long, black coat, Lockwood pulls out a small wooden box. It would easily fit into the palm of your hand, and from where you sit you can’t see a particular design or anything on the surface. Lockwood slides the box across the table towards you, flips it over with his long, slender fingers, and opens the lid, revealing a small bronze key lying on a cushion surrounded by thin iron plates.

You stare at it for five, six seconds. Then reach out to take another big swig of your coffee. With no sugar, acidly bitter taste explodes on your tongue, just the way you like it.

“It’s a Source,” you say. “You just carry a Source around like that?”

“Exceptional observation skills,” Lockwood says with the mild tone of someone barely holding back his impatience. “I can see why you asked her to join us, Kippy.”

“I can see why Kipps wants to shove his rapier up your—”

“Trust me, I’d be the last one missing out on a chance to ridicule Lockwood,” Kipps interrupts, tapping a finger on the table in front of the box, “but Barnes wants results by tomorrow and I’d like to act like professionals for once, so can we please focus?”

Lockwood and you throw a mirror glare at Kipps that’s something along the lines of You’re one to talk. When you notice each other’s similar expressions, Lockwood quickly schools his features back to a neutral one. “It is secure inside its seal for now, but the Visitor contained in it is not particularly strong. If we’re quick, it won’t have time to come through,” he says.

You shake your head. “You’re mad. And you—” you knock your knee against Kipps’s—“what’s wrong with you for going along with this?”

“There’s just … not enough time,” Kipps says. Exhaustion seeps into his voice, strong enough to peel back layers of caution for he shares a quick glance with Lockwood and what they don’t say screams so loudly that you have to lean back and re-evaluate what you’ve known about their relationship up until now.

It seems that Kipps has missed out on filling you in on some crucial details about the past few weeks he has worked at Kensal Green Cemetery.

“Then why don’t you just tell me what this is about?” you say, looking over at Kipps sharply. “Why does Barnes need you both to work on it? Is it a Fittes job? Did Bobby get his greasy little hands on something and—”

“Actually,” Lockwood chimes in, “it is our case. Lockwood & Co. Kipps is … an associate. And we’re very short on time to solve this case. Let’s just say Kipps has a little favour to repay. We need someone who excels at Touch, and he said you are the best at it. You might be our last chance to find out more about this key.” He has switched from that arrogant drawl to a soft, melodic cadence with that maddeningly smooth voice of his. It has to be intentional—he is trying to play you like a fiddle with that charm he switched on like an industrial bulb.

“What’s there to solve? You got the Source, you sealed it. That’s all there is. This should be on its way to a furnace right now.” You fall back into your seat, eyes raking over Lockwood’s form. He doesn’t even wear a uniform for Christ’s sake. “And you call yourself an agent?”

And just like that the light goes out, the switch flicks off. Lockwood’s face is calm; the only sign of his agitation is a pulse hammering in his throat and a muscle twitching in his jaw.

Kipps shifts in his seat. “We can’t give it to Barnes yet,” he says in a quiet voice, wrenching your eyes away from the glaring contest you have engaged in with Lockwood. Kipps presses his lips into a thin line, and you can see the mental strain it takes on him to agree with something Lockwood said. His handsome face crumples as though he has bitten into a lemon. “We believe the murder of that Visitor is still out there.”

You digest that. Go in for some more food. It takes a lot more effort to swallow your bacon. “Even more reason to just leave it to Inspector Barnes and DEPRAC. Exactly why is this your responsibility?”

“Justice for the dead?” Kipps offers.

“Protecting the living?” Lockwood states nobly.

It sounds like a load of crap, but you are too sleep-deprived to bother figuring out what truly is at stake for them. Maybe another stupid bet, or whatever favour Kipps owes Lockwood from the last.

You run a hand through your hair, bobbing your leg up and down in a frantic rhythm. It isn’t your favourite thing to do, but you have always had a hard time telling Kipps no—and God knows he has done so much for you.

“You owe me,” you tell him. Kipps nods, and visibly relaxes with relief.

“Do you need me to—” he starts, sliding his hand across the seat and offering it to you. From across the table, you hear the seat’s leather creak as Lockwood leans forward to get a better look at what you are doing. It reminds you of a hound scenting blood in the air and going out on the hunt for its prey.

“No, I’m good. I’m not taking my gloves off anyway.” You don’t like using your Talent without anything to ground you, but there is something about the way Lockwood is looking at you two, hungry almost, as though he is categorizing a particular fascinating information to dissect it later and see what use he can draw from it. Best to just ignore him. Besides, without your gloves, you feel naked, vulnerable. This isn’t something for prying eyes—and Lockwood has an awfully piercing, scrutinising pair of unfathomably dark eyes you are not interested at all to get lost in.

You lean back into the seat and get comfortable first. It never works when you go in too tense because it takes more effort to peel away the wards of your consciousness. When Kipps takes the key and plays it into your open palm, you focus on its weight first—akin to a bird bone, you barely feel it through the thick fabric of your glove.

Which doesn’t mean it isn’t heavy. The energy radiating off this thing is like a physical force pushing you back into the backrest of your seat. You close your eyes and focus on the low thrum of energy—feelings and impressions wash over you in torrents, layer after layer. Your chest feels heavy. Your stomach clenches in a hard, tight knot—fear. Fear grips you in a tight, cold grip.

Something is lurking, far far back, something unfathomably dark and abysmal but you can’t get a hold od if through your gloves and as you begin to sift through the chaotic blur of emotions to find the source—so much darkness, so much death; good Lord the things people did to get their hands on—

Excitement. A lingering echo burning so bright it blinds; hope swelling after long periods of dread, like the first spring buds blooming after a cruel, cold winter. Agitation. The adrenaline-inducing last sprint towards your goal knowing there is nothing that stops you from reaching it. The smell of damp soil and coppery hijacks your senses, and then—

Pain explodes in your chest, knocking you back against a cushioned surface. Your knees slam against something hard, sending hot shots of pain up your legs. Your eyes snap open but the world spins when all the oxygen is sucked out of your lungs and warmth spreads over your chest, liquid seeps through your fingers—but how? He could not. He would never��someone is screaming, a piercing, blood-churning scream. It takes a moment to realise the scream belongs to you; the wailing is drawn out from your raw throat, but how could anybody blame you; you are dying, shot in the chest by—

Someone is calling your name. Strong hands grab your shoulders and shake you hard as though trying to tear you away from a dream, a nightmare.

“Oh God, help me. He—he shot me—please help.” You gasp, trying to stop the bleeding by pressing your trembling hands against the wound.

“You’re fine. Listen to me, you’re fine. Nobody shot you!” A familiar voice—Kipps’s voice pierces through the wailing terror inside your head. You stare up at his green eyes which are paler than usual, widened in worry. “It’s just a psychic echo. You’re safe here.”

Another forceful inhale expands your lungs. The hot pinpoint pain in your chest subsides slowly with every shaking exhale, and when you look down at your hands, there is no blood sticking to your fingers, only coffee. When you hit your knees against the table, you knocked over your cup. Now the liquid is spreading across the table in a big puddle and dripping down its edges.

Lockwood is busy wiping the table clean with the leftover napkins while wildly gesturing with his free hand to the waitress looming over your table. “Just a long night, nothing serious,” you hear him say in haste. Either she isn’t interested or doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this; she shrugs and drags herself back behind the counter. You look around the establishment, ready to apologise for your outburst, but everybody has left already.

You turn around. When your eyes meet Lockwood’s, he grins, his smile so sudden and jarring as a thunderclap. “I have never seen anyone so sensitive to Touch. That was remarkable.” He beams as though you have performed an exceptional trick at the circus.

Something about the excitement in his voice sets you off—or maybe you are just still very raw from the experience, and the aftershock of such a gruesome echo is driving you up the wall.

“Oh yeah, it is so much fun! Feeling how people get killed every time is so worth it.” You grab your fork and stab your sausage with enough force you send tomatoes flying. On second thought, you are not hungry anymore. “Why don’t I get a gun and shoot you just so you can get an idea—”

“I’ve had my own fair share, thank you,” comes Lockwood’s flippant answer and for a second you imagine leaning over the table and smothering him with his own tie.

“So he was shot.” Kipps quickly steers the conversation back to its topic before you can follow your impulse. You slump against the seat, feeling pressure around your hand. When you look down, Kipps is holding your hand tightly, grounding you. You should have let him from the start. Weakly, you squeeze back. “We knew that already—”

“He … he never expected it to end like this,” you say slowly, gazing outside the window. Only your own reflection stares back at you. “He was shot by someone he knew. There was … genuine surprise. Before the pain, I mean. He couldn’t believe he would be hurt by someone he trusted. It was so absurd, he didn’t even have time to feel betrayed. That’s how unbelievable it was.”

“So it was someone very close to the victim. Who’s someone you’d never expect to betray you?” Kipps thinks aloud.

“Friends,” Lockwood provides.

“Family,” you say, quietly.

“A lover.” Kipps takes your fork and helps himself to some leftover mushrooms from your plate. When you look at the food, your stomach churns. “We should go back to the house tomorrow and see if you missed something, Tony. Wouldn’t surprise me if you managed to gloss over some obvious evidence,” he says to Lockwood.

“Why do you believe I would be the one—”

You shut out their bickering. A fine drizzle has set in outside, leaving small rain drops on the window. The street is a blur of black and faint white light from the ghost-lamps. When you look at your own face in the window’s reflection, your own eyes stare back at you—big, scared and haunted.

It always takes some time to get back after using your talent—to slowly build up the walls and distance yourself from the echoes of someone else’s life and the brutal way it ended. Deaths like these: sudden, violent, painful are always difficult to come back from. Which is why it is so important to have someone to ground you. Kipps has known you for so long, he is well aware how the psychic hangover drags your senses through the shredder and leaves your mind and body bruised and raw like an open nerve.

He had a few years training on how to handle it thanks to your brother.

The thought of Matthew shakes you awake and shoves you into full alertness, as if ice-cold water has been dumped down the back of your neck. You feel a sharp ache in your chest as you shove the ghost of his memory out of your mind, and then raw emptiness, as if a grappling hook has yanked your heart out of your body. It is just the aftershock—the hangover from the psychic connection, you try to reason. This is no time to allow grief back into your body, your mind.

Kipps must have heard the quiet sound you made, like a wounded animal. He falls dead silent mid-sentence and whips his head towards you. An echo of recognition passes his features for a second—there and gone so quickly, you think you imagined it.

“We are done here,” he says, and reaches over to close the box’s lid with a resolute click. You didn’t even notice he has taken the key away from you and returned it inside its seal. Lockwood opens his mouth, as though ready to argue, but whatever expression your face paints, even he recognises that you have reached your limit. Without another word, he swiftly slides the box back into his pocket.

You turn away from them, feeling anger and frustration boil inside you. You don’t want them to think you are weak just because you are a little more sensitive than other agents who can use Touch.

“Want me to drop you off the dormitory?” Kipps asks, his voice intensely neutral. He is digging through his purse to pay for your food, and shoots a glare towards Lockwood to indicate that no, he will not pay for his.

The dormitory for Rotwell agents, commonly known as the Lions Den, are rows of sand-bricked two-room apartments housing most of Rotwell’s younger agents in Chelsea. Half of your monthly salary evaporates just for paying rent, but at least it is a roof over your head and only a few stops away from your workplace. There is also something about pretending to belong to the upper posh class of London, to stroll through the highly-maintained gardens and polished windows glinting like diamonds in the early morning sun. They don’t have to deal with countless sleepless nights, the psychic hangover that makes you feel as if your body is not your own, or the constant fear every shift might be the last.

Sometimes it is that moment of pretending as though you live a different life that makes a difference.

“It’s okay, I’ll just take a cab.” Because for one, Kipps lives on the other side of the city, and two, you need to be alone.

Kipps nods, but he doesn’t look happy about it. Lockwood stays silent and is completely relaxed, a paragon of serenity with alert, dark eyes.

You scoot out of the booth and follow them outside into the cold drizzle. Mist hangs in the dark streets, rendering the area nearly invisible. Kipps and Lockwood share a few quiet words. When they part, Lockwood’s coat end flaps like black wings in the dark. He turns halfway around, gives you a long, considering look over the back of his shoulder. He parts with a single, almost approving nod, then ducks his head against the biting wind and strides down the street, disappearing into the dark night.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Kipps buttons the front of your trenchcoat. He is balancing on the back of his heels—an old habit when he feels bad for something and doesn’t quite know how to apologise and it would be easier to just bail from the conflict. “You still look like shit.”

You give him a weak kick to the shin. His shoulders relax. “I’ll fill you in tomorrow about how it went,” he says, jamming his hands inside his pockets. He pulls one out again and shoves a crushed candy into your hand. It’s your favourite brand and for the first time today, you feel something warm spreading in your chest.

“Wait.” Before he can turn away, you quickly catch his sleeve and make him turn around. “About that key…”

“Is there anything else?” Kipps leans forward and you have to bend your neck back to meet his eyes.

You remember when he was much smaller and you were at the same eye level. At 13 years, Kipps used to be smaller than the rest of the boys at Stroud & Co. where you started out your agent career and met. He’s had his share of playing errand boy or punching bag for the older, taller boys, until Matthew came along one day, dunked one of Kipps’s bullies into an overflowing rain barrel and got his nose broken in return.

They became best friends after that, and you in the middle. Matthew, Quill, and you. Lock, Shock, and Barrel.

Now, only two remain.

Kipps claps your shoulder, snapping you out of the memory and dispersing the picture you have conjured in your mind of him young. Today, he stands tall and broad-shouldered before you, twice in size and muscle. Nobody sane would try and mess with him.

“What’s wrong?” Kipps asks. “Where did you go in there?” He taps two fingers against his temple.

“When I was holding the key, the recent death was the strongest echo, but there was more. Like … way, way more.” You sling your arms around yourself. “Like many layers on a painting, and whatever is underneath all that … it feels evil. Really, really evil. There is a lot of death attached to that key.”

Kipps chews on this. He looks down the street to where Lockwood has vanished, his square jaw drawn tense. “I can’t say Lockwood’s stake on this, but I don’t care much about its history. It changed owners, I get it, but who would kill for something like that?”

“I don’t know.” You think back to the smell of blood, to the underlying eagerness to own that key. “But if that key is already that vile,” you say, shuddering, “then what about the thing it opens?”

“Not important to me as long as it’s not our problem.” He yawns, and taps a foot against the hard pavement to stave off the cold. “I bet it got destroyed or lost long ago. There is no way it’s still around.” Kipps runs a hand through his hair. It curls against his temple and neck in the damp mist. “Chances are high we’ll never hear anything about it ever again after this week. Case closed. Thanks for helping us. I’m sure DEPRAC can find the murderer and it’ll be just another case in the books.”

“Yeah, sure. I guess you’re right.” You barely hold back a yawn.

Kipps nudges your elbow. “I’ll catch up with you later, OK? Gotta make sure Lockwood’s the one who messed up the earlier investigation and go back to the crime scene.”

“Doing the Lord’s work,” you joke and give him a mocking salute. For the first time tonight, Kipps grins that lopsided half-grin showing part of his white teeth before he rushes off into the night after Lockwood.

For a moment, you stand still and let the drizzle engulf you. Although you have been almost sixteen hours on your feet, exhaustion has slowly trickled away, and in its stead a bone-deep anxiety has settled. Sleep. You need to sleep this off, and everything will return back to normal by tomorrow.

Heading for the main street to catch a night cab, you don’t turn around, and just like that, you miss out on the shadow unhitching itself from a wall even though the ghost-lamp flickers to life.

A/N: hmu if you want to join the taglist!

#lockwood show #lockwood books #lockwood & co #l&c #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x you #lockwood x y/n #lockwood netflix #lockwood and co #lockwood reader insert #l&c reader insert

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ist4rgirlo · 8 months

Note

hii filo conrad girliee!! can i request a one shot where conrad asks filipina reader out and he confesses to reader during their date on the boardwalk then they kiss when he drops reader home? thank youu continue ur lovely writing <3

───────── 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞’𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 - 𝐜.𝐟

ONE SHOT !

summary: conrad asking you out and taking you home.

requested by: anonymous

In the past, Conrad had been an introverted, reserved person, preferring solitude to the chaos of social interaction. But there was something about you that made him want to step outside his comfort zone.

Ever since he met you, he did things that he never knew that he could. He experienced new things, he experienced things from your culture, new hobbies. You made him come out of his shell, and that’s what he absolutely adores about you. You bring out the best in everyone.

It was a beautiful summer evening when Conrad popped the question. He suggested that you and he go to the boardwalk. The boardwalk was one of his favorite places in Cousins, so he decided to take you there.

You both spotted a quiet spot on a bench overlooking the ocean as the sun set, casting a warm golden glow across the horizon. The sounds of crashing waves provided a soothing background.

It was the moment he had been waiting for all evening. He has been wanting to tell you what he really feels. Taking a deep breath, Conrad turned towards you, his voice filled with vulnerability.

"Y/N, there's something I need to confess," Conrad began, his face flushed. "In the past, I've been very introverted, afraid to let people in. But you've made me realize life's too short to hide away”

Your eyes widened with curiosity, encouraging Conrad to continue.

"I've been admiring you from afar, Y/N, for far too long. You just have something about you that draws me in. You just.. you make me feel like a better person," Conrad confessed, his voice laced with sincerity.

Your cheeks flushed, and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You nestled closer to him, holding his hands tightly.

"Conrad, you've touched my heart in ways I never thought possible," you replied, your voice filled with warmth. "Thanks for showing me this side of you. I'm glad I got to see you like this.”

As the stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky, Conrad and you sat on the bench, sharing your dreams, fears, and hopes, feeling an extraordinary connection unfold between you two.

Hours later, with the boardwalk now empty and the night growing chilly, Conrad knowing that you had a curfew, he decided to walk you back home just to make sure that you are safe since he also promised your father that he would bring you home safely. He couldn't help but smile as you both strolled through the quiet streets, the significance of your evening not lost on either of you both.

At your doorstep, Conrad gently pulled you into his embrace, holding you close. You gazed into each other's eyes, your unspoken feelings filling the air.

"Thank you, Y/N, for giving me a chance, for letting me do it in your traditional way, for letting me court you. I’m.. really happy," Conrad whispered, his voice filled with gratitude.

Your fingers traced his cheek, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Ofcourse, Connie. I am thankful too, because you opened your heart to me.”

And as you both leaned in for your first tender kiss, you bith knew that your confession of love at the boardwalk was the beginning of a beautiful love story that would weather any storm and stand the test of time.

───────────────────────────

TO MY FILO GIRLIES HERE U GO <3

#tsitp conrad #tsitp conrad fisher #conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher fic #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher one shot #tsitp #tsitp imagine #tsitp fanfic #tsitp fic #tsitp oneshot #the summer i turned pretty #abtconrad fics

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tmntxthings · 2 years

Note

HELLO!! I've been binging your fics lately and I am absolutely in love with your writing!! I haven't seen many but I was wondering if you could do a Rise Donnie x chubby reader? Nothing with insecurity or anything, maybe just something fluffy! It's rare to come across fics w a chubby reader that isn't angsty LOL -👑

What Are You Waiting For?

author’s notes: animal by neon trees influenced this oneshot greatly, I hope my 👑 anon that this is what you had in mind 💜✨

warnings: longer oneshot, super fluffy

> part two <

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Donnie was humming along to a song as he floated above the tall buildings of New York City. He was currently scanning all the nearby buildings with his headset, until his gear loaded in a match. “Found you!” Donnie said triumphantly as he pushed back the goggles. It was 9:00 pm, the sun only having gone down an hour or two ago. But Donnie couldn’t help himself, plus he was dressed pretty inconspicuously, purple hoodie and all. He landed in the alley next to the small bakery, making sure he looked presentable and his tech was stowed away in his shell.

“Alright Othello Von Ryan, be smooth~” he spoke to himself as he started walking to the sideway. “Yo bro, where you at?” Leo’s voice patched in from Donnie’s wrist tech. “Occupied, talk later!” Donnie said immediately before turning off the voice channel, not wanting any interruptions once he finally walked into the shop. The smell of freshly baked goods wafted into his face as he opened the door. And coffee! He sighed dreamily, if he could bottle this smell up he would. Which gave him an idea for later. But back to the task at hand!

He was the only customer in the store, which was a shame as well as an advantage. He’d have your absolute attention, though as he looked around, the counter also seemed to be empty. Then as if his thoughts had called to you, you came bursting through the back door that led to the kitchen. “Sorry about that dear customer, I was taking out some macaroons from the oven!” You said not looking over at him just yet as you crossed out something on a tiny notebook. After that you finally looked up, Donnie had made his way to the counter, like a moth drawn to flames. “Oh! Donnie, it’s you!” You graced him with a smile and Donnie could only nod for a few seconds before actual thoughts came to him.

“Yes it is I, Donatello, your favorite and most valued customer,” he said smiling a little smug smile. You giggled at that, shaking your head but not going as far as verbally refuting. “You always like to come when I’m about to close up shop!” You said as you glanced down at the treats you had left. Today looked to be a busy day for you as Donnie looked at his options. All his favorites were gone and he clutched at where his heart would be. “Not the scones! And the petits-fours too?!” Donatello hid a frown behind his hand as he contemplated trying something new or just getting a coffee. “Oh wait!” You said shaking him from his inner thoughts as you quickly disappeared from his view back into the kitchen.

When you emerged both your hands were behind your back as if to hide something. Donnie looked at you curiously and it wasn’t til you stood right in front of him, the counter the only thing between the two of you, did you reveal two perfect little cakes. Donnie gasped as you said, “I thought you might come tonight and remembered to save your favorite!” Donnie smiled brightly, they even had purple frosting on them! He readily held out his gloved hands, you gently placed them both and he was enraptured by your fingers, they were so small compared to his own. So cute and chubby and he blushed to himself at the word cute. “That’ll be $10, did you want a coffee too?”

You didn’t seem to notice him going into a reverie over just the sight of your cute hands up close. “Hmm? Oh yeah I’ll have a coffee, your special” he specified, because not only were you an excellent baker but you were a bangin’ coffee maker too. Donnie didn’t think he would ever make his own coffee if all it took was a five minute trip here from the lair. “Coming right up, most valued customer,” you giggled and winked at him. He was stunned, you were usually so shy with him. But he had become a regular, maybe you were finally warming up to him! That thought made him feel all mushy inside, he reallyyyy wanted you to be comfortable around him.

He watched as you flitted around behind the counter whipping up his coffee. “Soo do you have any plans after you close up shop for the night?” Donnie was trying his hardest to be smooth. He had practiced that line about 20 times. “No plans!” You said in concentration as you poured a certain amount of creamer into a cup. “Welll” Donnie started to fidget, getting nervous because this was the part that would either mean success or failure. “I was wondering, if you would wanna go watch a movie sometime?” He had been staring at the back of your head with pleading eyes hoping for just a chance and when you turned to him, cup of coffee in your hands he looked away, down at the countertop.

He was too nervous! How could he possibly watch as you turned him down. He should’ve known- “I love movies! When were you thinking?” You chirped happily as you slid the coffee into his frame of view. His head shot up, “Really?” then just as quickly he said, “I mean, we can go tonight! To the theater just around the corner?” He said a smug smile coming back to his face. But relief flooded his mind, he couldn’t believe it! You were giving him a chance!! “Sounds good to me, it’ll take me a couple of minutes after closing to get the shop ready for tomorrow,” you said and Donnie was offering his assistance. “Oh no, you haven’t even started on your coffee and cakes!” You said nodding to his hands.

Which reminded him he needed to pay! And as he started digging around for his wallet you stopped him, “how about you get a special discount tonight since you’re taking me out on a date,” you gave him another flirtatious wink. Boom. His brain fried up completely as his mouth dropped open slightly, “I’ll be right back!” You said giggling at his reaction as you went to get the shop ready for tomorrow. Donnie found his way to a table and a chair as he sat down not really thinking about anything other than you winking at him. His heart was pounding as he sipped on his coffee and nibbled the petit-fours. He was a goner if you kept flirting with him like that, he’d surely make a fool out of himself!

But while his brain was running around flailing it’s imaginative arms in worry, Donnie’s heart was fired up and ready. He wanted you to flirt with him again, and he wanted to flirt back. He just needed another opportunity and not short circuit like before. When he finished off the treats and coffee he went to the trash can to throw away the wrappers and empty cup. When he turned around you were coming out from behind the counter, apron off and hair down. He swore under his breath as he took in your fitting jeans and cute purple shirt. You were so pretty, and he obviously knew that before, but seeing you now with his favorite color on you and the rest of your outfit, your hair down, his heart was racing. “Ready?” You smiled shyly as you twirled a strand of hair absentmindedly. “Yep,” he said in awe as he held the door open for you. You smiled, waiting for him to follow through before locking the door with your keys.

“So what movie were you thinking?” you said getting the conversation flowing and Donnie breathed through his nose to try and get it together. “I’m down for anything, but my favorites are sci-fi and action,” the conversation went on from there as he learned your favorites. The two of you walking closely together as the night had gotten chilly. He wasn’t ready to make a move like wrapping an arm around you, but maybe he’d work up the courage in the theater! He still couldn’t believe it, that you had agreed and it had a constant smile on his face. “Oh look! They’ve got Avatar 2!!” You said excitedly and before he knew it you had his gloved hand in your own, tugging him forward as you ran to the ticket booth. His mind screeched as he moved trying to keep up but his eyes were glued to where you held his hand. He wished he didn’t have the gloves on, to be able to feel you, but he pushed that thought away quickly. Baby steps Donatello, don’t go ruining things just yet!

“Two for Avatar,” Donnie said as he pulled out his wallet with his free hand, not wanting you to let go but you did so he could grab some dolla dolla bills. Tickets now in hand, Donnie pushed open the door letting you walk by him, you smelled like your bakery, he tried not close his eyes at the smell. “Are you hungry?” Donnie said as he followed after you noticing the snack bar. “Hmm do you wanna share some popcorn?” you asked looking over at him and he nodded swiftly.

The two of you sat towards the back, popcorn in your hands as he carried the drink, he had gotten two straws and he was mentally flippingggg out. Seriously he couldn’t believe how lucky he was, he could hardly contain his excitement as you both settled in your seats. The lights dimmed and the movie started. You glanced at him hands coming together to clap silently showing you were just as excited though probably for the movie and not about him. Donnie didn’t think too hard about that though, not letting anything ruin his mood even his own thoughts. He took off his gloves thinking in the dark you wouldn’t notice, and hoping for the off chance of reaching for popcorn at the same time. What?! Donnie liked all the clichés! And it happened more than once and each time it felt like electricity, you were too occupied with the movie though. Hardly noticing while it was all he could notice, your fingers were so soft!

Once the popcorn was finished Donnie started to actually watch the movie. Every now and then he’d glance over and watch your reactions of awe and wonder at the big screen. He would smile to himself, and go back to watching until he felt a nagging thought. He wanted to make a move, flirt back like you had at the bakery. He took a deep breath and moved his arm to go around your shoulders, and you leaned in closer his way almost immediately. Mission accomplished!!!!!!! And he was chewing on his lower lip to keep from smiling like an idiot or worse squealing with excitement.

When the movie was done and the credits started rolling you slowly stood, stretching. The movie had been a long one but that just meant Donnie got even more time with you. “That was awesome!” You said as you turned to him, the purple turtle had quickly put on his gloves and replied, “yeah the cgi was incredible!” The two of you walked out of the theater, talking about favorite scenes and characters. “This was really fun Donnie!” You said thanking him once out on the sidewalk. “Thanks for coming with me I had an equally great time,” Donnie said unable to help his bright smile.

He breathed in through his nose again as he rallied his courage. “Can I get your number?” You asked holding out your phone with a slight blush dusting your cheeks. You had beat him to it!! Donnie laughed saying those exact words and you giggled and watched him type in his number. “I’ll see you later then, Y/n!” Donnie waved as you started walking backwards waving back and thanking him again for a great night. He watched as you turned and walked until you were out of view, taking a corner and disappearing behind a building.

Donnie had happy feet! And he jumped up fist bumping the air. “Fibonacci!!!” He practically hollered in victory, walking no skipping, the opposite way you went, entering an alleyway and shooting up to the sky, flying with his tech. He raced all the way home to the lair. “Well well well, look who it is,” Leo said as Donnie entered the abandoned subway. “Surprise surprise,” Donnie waved his hands sarcastically, as he took off his gloves. “Where were you brother of mine?” Leo questioned coming up and wrapping an arm around Donnie’s neck. “Just out and about,” Donnie droned as he tried walking to his lab. Then his phone buzzed and he immediately pulled it out forgetting about Leo.

‘Made it home!! Hope you did too, just in case you hadn’t heard me the first two times 😂 I had an amazing time 😊 goodnight Donnie’ - y/n 💜

Leo gasped into Donnie’s ear and the purple turtle turned dark green. “YOU!” Leo said loudly catching the attention of Mikey and Raph. “SHUT UP!” Donnie screeched as he tried to push Leo away but Leo’s grip only tightened and he grabbed for Donnie’s phone. “Guys you won’t believe what I just saw!!” Leo said goading his brothers to come see. Mikey was up and bouncing towards them in seconds, “ohhhh what, what is it?!” he said as he watched his older brothers struggle. Donnie trying to keep his phone away while Leo trying and succeeding in capturing it. “LEO!” Donnie hollered and stomped his foot down on his blue brother’s.

Leo yelped hopping on one foot and dropping Donnie’s phone. Donnie lunged for it but Mikey was faster, and as soon as he got the phone he was off running to Raph who was laughing at the whole thing. “MIKEY!” Donnie yelled running after him telling him to stop. This went on for a while before all his brothers knew of Y/n and he ended up confessing about the amazing date he had just went on. All brothers listened intently, teasing him here and there but ultimately super proud of their genius brother. “So when we meeting???” Leo said curiously, “and when are you gonna tell them you’re a turtle?” Raph said eyebrows going up.

“Problems for a later time,” Donnie said waving his hand and with his phone back in his possession he headed for his room. He realized he had yet to text you back!

‘I made it home too, sorry for the late reply my brothers bombarded me 💀, we should definitely have another night like tonight 😁 goodnight Y/n!’ - donnie

He landed on his bed, closed his phone and rolled around too excited to do anything else. He couldn’t wait to take you out for another date. Hoping this would become a recurring occurrence in his life. He couldn’t wait and immediately started thinking up other date ideas, kicking his feet out happily.

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