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#and i feel bad but also she’s the one who said she doesn’t want me trying to help or being affectionate and nice or whatever so yeah i just
bitethehnd · 2 days
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omg i’ve had the biggest brainrot over ur naomi & taylor!reader & rewatching the eras tour i have 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ thoughts
i can imagine reader! having a chat w naomi when they’re ready to make it official and actually tell everyone they’re together (god knows everyone’s figured it out but shh let them have their moment) & reader! asks if they can make it official during the show but doesn’t tell Naomi how,, they’re just like trust me it’ll be good and naomi is like ok !! anything for u !! & during karma reader! sings “karma is my baby on the screen, coming straight home to me!” & they somehow get naomi’s live reaction on the big screen megatron thing of reader fully making it official to everyone mid show and they’re just in AWE
& in the same show when reader! sings “you’re in love” they do a lil speech about how this song was written for someone else completely and after everything that went down, they hated this songs because it brought back so many bad memories (or something) but now they have someone who makes them feel like this song is the reason for existence again and it just cuts to lil naomi sobbing aAAA i truly love that fic so much i still have so many thoughts about it thank u thank u thank u
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⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ you are in love
pairing : naomi mcpherson x popstar!reader
a/n : ANON I LOVE YOUR BRAIN KISS KISS
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at this point during your eras tour, the two of you are already together. you think you’re all sneaky but literally everyone knows… naomi looks at you like you gave them the moon so it’s quite obvious, but everyone lets you two have your fun!
the first people you told were obviously katie and jo. they both had fake surprised looks on their faces but said the two of you deserved to be happy. then ensue the countless jokes and comments from jo.
the boys were thrilled too! since phoebe had also opened for you, she had taken a guess that you two had a thing for each other and then her suspicions were confirmed. julien fist pumped naomi and lucy gave you a big hug!! you guys are adorable fr.
next came telling the world about the relationship. you two held off for a few months, wanting privacy, but it seemed twitter was already aware of it. everyone had their theories and some were so outrageous that you just wanted to tell everyone yourself.
you told naomi your feelings on the matter and they immediately agreed, no questions asked. they were ready to show you off and not have to hide. you suggested doing it during your next show, and like anon said, naomi is just like “whatever my princess wants, she gets!!! anything for her!!”
you quickly put your plan into motion. you decided your surprise song for the next show would be “you are in love” from 1989. it perfectly described how you felt about naomi. you came up with some ideas for the speech you would give before hand and it went something like this…
“the next song that i’m going to play is one that i haven’t performed in so long. i wrote it about someone who i thought was going to be my forever, but it just didn’t end up that way and it left me with some sad memories. i have never felt the need to play this song since then, but now everything has changed. even if i originally wrote this about someone else, my partner renewed it into something so pure and now has a reason to exist again. i love you.”
the camera doesn’t pan to naomi just yet, since you wanted to build suspense. for dramatic effect, of course. but jo and katie make sure to get their reaction on video. it’s just naomi basically happy crying and laughing with tears under their eyes. even when you guys are a whole stadium apart, the invisible string between you is there.
when it was finally time for the last era of songs, from midnights, you were planning to do a lyric swap in “karma.” the actual lyric was “karma is my girlfriend,” but obviously naomi was not a girl and the song originally wasn’t written about them, you planned to change it to something that made you happier. when the time came to sing “karma,” you looked right into the vip section where naomi was and sang “karma is my baby on the screen, coming straight home to me!” cut to the camera panning to naomi and they’re just giddy, laughing and crying all at the same time. when you told them you were going to make it official, this is definitely not how they imagined it, but they weren’t complaining.
you just wanted to show the world your love for them and honestly didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. the two of you just existed in your own little bubble, feeling like you were just singing to them.
after the show was over and naomi practically sprinted backstage, their beaming smile lit up the room as they saw you. they pulled you in for a fierce hug and pressed gentle kisses to your forehead.
“that was the sweetest thing in the entire world, baby. i love you so much.”
“so you liked it? it wasn’t too much?”
“never. that was, like, magical. can’t believe you did all that for me.”
“i’d do anything for you, nom.”
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© bitethehnd
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spopsalt · 2 days
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The ones I sent earlier I more or leas grouped by a theme of why I hate them. But I can’t really categorize them anymore. So I bring you…
More miscellaneous She-Ra pins I found while sorting through Pinterest that made me want to die and my commentary on them. Pt. 1
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Idk if this is a joke about Catra hurting Adora, or a joke about Adora ‘letting’ Catra hurt her. Either way, I don’t like it. I really feel like this is another ‘Adora=Dumb’ jokes.
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Congratulations, you found the only four frames of Adora smiling in this scene, amongst a sea of shots of her being visibly uncomfortable. Personally, I don’t see it as a smile, more of her trying to put on a brave or determined face. But you could also easily chalk these frames up to an animation error. Not that a C//A Stan would listen. You get the idea.
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A lot of people say Catra is trying to make Adora jealous here. Nevermind the fact that both her and Catra are teens here, and Entrapta is in her late 20s/early 30s. Also, I find it odd how touchy Catra is and how much she manipulates Entrapta. If the ages were reversed, Catra would look like some sort of ephebophile or groomer. But Entrapta is the adult, and autistic. I’m not sure what that’s to imply. All I know is to me, it reads like a weird situation where the teen is being a predator to the adult, because the adult is autistic and therefore ‘younger’ than the teen. I’m not sure who wrote Catra and Entrapta’s interactions or if they realize how fucked up it is, least of all a show for kids. But suffice to say, I don’t like it.
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This one is a fun little exception. I don’t hate the meme itself. But I do hate the fact that it’s right. 2018 Sea Hawk on his own is fine, but I’ll now and forever be slightly pissed off knowing that OG Sea Hawk was a badass, and now we have an arsonist who can’t take anything seriously and who’s only motivation for anything is Mermista. I’m not saying the new SH is bad, but I am saying the OG one is a million times better for numerous reasons.
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Another case of sexualizing a minor. And would you look at that, it specifically says ‘small Adora’. Good God, they’re getting younger. I honestly can’t think of a better way they could indirectly say they’re doing this on purpose. It reminds me of that one episode of Helluva Boss at the summer camp, and how ‘Milard’ was being sent nudes despite people thinking it’s a tween they’re sending them to. The fact ‘Milard’ made the same meme face doesn’t help.
Wow. thay's a lot. For number 1: Adora literally looks terrified and uncomfortabe when Catra is attacking her??? She isn't thinking it's cute???
For number 2: She was smiling because she was playing along with Catra's act? You can tell that the smile is very forced, but noooo she secretly loved the dance despite the fact that she was visably uncomfortable.
For number 3: Again, like what you said this was in season 1, soooo Catra would been 17 while Entrapta was in her 30s...yikes. Also yeah Catra is wayyyy too touchy with Entrapta, like touching her hair and like leaning up against her and stuff like that...if the ages were reveresed, people wouldn't be thinking it's some cute thing
For number 4: I think this was a joke, but it still literally made me feel sick <3
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queenangella · 7 months
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#putting this in the tags bc I need to get this out but also feel kinda guilty about it so I don’t wanna scream it in a post#but I feel soo irrationally pissed at my friend#bc she’s one of my best friends and I love her but I haven’t heard from her all summer except for the like four times she answered my#messages only to immediately ask me something in return#it took her two weeks to reply to a meme I send her only to immediately follow up with ‘het remember how you said your parents wanted to#hire my band’#‘ahaha summer is so busy I’ve read all my books anyway you told me I could borrow this one book?’#last was ‘heyy sorry for not replying haha anyway im bored next week wanna go on a trip’#to which I replied ‘yeah I would love to but I have my internship starting next week remember’#and its like I don’t mind that she doesn’t answer my texts like god knows I hate texting#but its really starting to feel like our relationship is fully based on her needing me for something#which I have felt before but I kinda dismissed it as me thinking it was always me who had to take initiative which was disproved when she#asked me to meet up a few times but thinking back it was always like ‘hey let’s meet up for coffee’ and then when I arrive having literally#left the library where I’d been studying for only ten minutes bc otherwise i wouldn’t see her.#she’s like ‘oh I don’t want coffee anymore but I need to go to the supermarket wanna join me?’#which I always did bc I wanna spend time together and it’s cheaper for me than getting overpriced coffee but!!!!#anyway I’m feeling this now bc while she hadn’t answered my ‘sorry can’t go on a trip’ text I did just see that she’s currently in portugal#with another friend#which is like??? so she just found someone else to relieve her of her boredom and so she didn’t need me anymore so why answer me right??#anyway it’s probably not that bad and I will talk to her about it when I see her again which will probably be in a month I guess but for now#I don’t wanna ruin her trip
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rosesradio · 11 months
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#actually i am really sick of my family for making me feel like ‘being liberal’ Or Whatever is my only personal trait#because like i used to voice opinions on things until they made me feel bad/crazy for it#but now when they whip out the most batshit insane take on something & i’m just like ‘um i dunno…but to each their own’#& they still act like i’m crazy i’m so 💀#like my only cousin who’s into p/j/o was talking about how the new book (& while he ‘doesn’t care’ that Nico’s gay it—#‘came out of nowhere’ 🙄) the new book is written by two authors—one of them being a gay man because Richard wanted the input—#because he didn’t feel qualified to write it as a straight man or something idk#but my cousin. said. that if a straight man ‘can’t’ write a gay story then a woman can’t write a man’s story & vice versa#which. oh my god no#for one thing i do think anyone can write any story even/especially if it’s out of their depth but they should absolutely reach out—#if they want firsthand accounts of experiences like what it’s like to be gay etc#but also. of course a woman can write a man & vice versa what kind of take even is that? like yeah some people do it really weird—#(‘she boobed breastily down the stairs’)#but that doesn’t mean people shouldn’t be allowed if anything people should learn about the experiences of others#in general his takes of ‘i don’t Care i just wish it wasn’t Every Character that’s not how it Used To Be’#like 1.) if richard wrote lgbtq/poc main characters in 2005 he probably wouldn’t have sold many books#and 2.) it’s Greek mythology. you get what you sign up for#anyways yeah i’m really quiet at family functions but even when i just quietly disagree i’m made to feel really bad about it#& the next function is literally my grad party like next week ://#but after that there shouldn’t be anything for a while#rose.txt#tw vent
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agenderarkham · 2 years
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My birthday is coming up and I already asked if 2 of my friends a few weeks ago if they could make it back in town for a little get together and they already said yes/ probably and I asked again last night and now it’s probably no and I know it’s bc they live like 2 hours away now and they’re busy and it’s not on purpose and that I shouldn’t be this upset but I’ve already been feeling lonely and miserable and like my friends don’t actually like me and now I’ve made myself cry at 7 am on my day off and it’s just not fair
#I don’t understand why the second I turned 18 my birthdays have just sucked now#last year my dad not only forgot which whatever I don’t care but the only time he really talked to me was to scream at me for apparently#just being the worst kid and then my mom agreed w him and said that I made it really difficult whatever that fucking means as if they’re not#the ones who raised me and now if the one other person I asked can’t come I’m just fucking canceling my birthday I guess bc I’ll only have#one person who’ll be able to come and watch w my luck they’ll probably cancel on me too 🙃#AND now I have to tell my mom and she’s gonna make me feel worse about it bc every time she comforts me she refuses to learn how I like to#be comforted and ends up feeling condescending or tries to force me into physical contact which I don’t really like when I’m upset and I#know all of this upset is probably just bc I’m on my period bc even tho normally I can barely squeeze out two tears when I’m upset when I’m#on my period if I get one bad thought to spiral while I’m alone it’s all fucking over but yeah#this is how my holiday weekend is starting !! can’t wait for my birthday in 2 weeks maybe I’ll just fucking call out sick and leave town to#be by myself bc being alone on purpose just kinda sounds easier at this point#ALSO GREAT bc I’m still crying I have a fucking headache and want to go get some water or something but I Can’t bc my mom is up and she#doesn’t know how to leave me alone when I’m upset and don’t want to fucking talk to her about it#vent#don’t rb#Arkham rambles#arkhamrambles
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jentlemahae · 2 months
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doobea · 3 months
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YOU'RE A MEAN ONE, MISTER GOJO ─ SATORU G.
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synopsis: satoru gojo is spoiled and arrogant. he's also the next in line to inherit his family's fortune. his father sends him far away in a small town for a week in hopes that he'll 'change' for the better. instead of the usual five-starred hilton hotels, he stays at a local inn and starts to befriend the owner's daughter.
tropes: small town romance, christmas au, golden retriever x black cat
MILESTONE EVENT || MILESTONE MASTERLIST
contents: fem!reader, spoiled rich boy!gojo, acts like an ass to everyone but hopelessly falls in love with you at first sight, feels like a really bad hallmark movie, mentions of wealth class differences, reader isn't a tsundere - she's just indifferent for the most part and introverted word count: 7.5K (idk i will uh make the fics shorter in the future) a/n: thank you anon for requesting this!! idk if this is what you wanted but hopefully you like it!! :3 everyone also give a round of applause to @popponn for beta reading this big mess LMAO
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Satoru Gojo has a lot of expectations, but this certainly isn’t one of them.
He isn’t particularly excited about spending a week away from his big city penthouse to be rotting in a small town motel in the middle of nowhere but, his father, CEO of Gojo Corporations, heavily insisted that he ‘needs this’ and that ‘it’ll be good for the company’ — whatever that means. Satoru is confident that his father thinks he’s incapable of running the family business after last month’s run with the paparazzi and his third fling of the month. It wasn’t his fault that they got caught doing drugs at one of Zenin's parties, everyone else was doing the same thing, it just so happened that the cameras were only focusing on him. 
Well, that’s what he gets for signing up to be the son of one of the richest men on Earth.
“You need to start taking this seriously,” he recalls his father slamming his fist down at the desk before throwing a bottle of Henessy at the wall. “I don’t want this company to go bankrupt just because I have a son who only thinks with his dick.”
Ouch… but he’s not wrong about that.
So now Satoru finds himself driving up a winding road somewhere very deep in the mountains. Exactly five hours away from the city. And, for the past three hours, all he’s been seeing are miles and miles of pine trees, sheets of snow, and — he had recently learned this from Suguru — sugar shacks. Apparently when you’re out over a hundred miles into wilderness territory these sap houses are littered everywhere.  The fact that Satoru is beginning to count more shacks than designer cars on the road is really starting to get to him. 
“This whole thing is so fucking stupid,” Satoru has also been talking to himself throughout the journey in order to not lose his mind. “He could’ve just sent me door to door caroling instead of whatever this is.” Satoru doesn’t know how to sing well, but he does know all the lyrics to ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ and that usually gets him all the tips. He wonders if he can manage to make a small side hustle when he starts wasting his week here.
He takes a sharp turn up around the hill before finally recognizing a big red sign with the name ‘Mistle Town’ as seen on the postcard his dad left him before leaving. It takes him another five minutes of driving through said small town, which is quite literally something out of one of those really bad holiday movies that his mom would force him to watch when he was little, before arriving at the inn. Upon arriving, Satoru is noticeably disappointed at the lack of valet assistance and, the size and design of the inn, is rather lackluster. 
First, it just looks like a regular white farmhouse. Maybe having a max of ten rooms, none of them being penthouse sized, Satoru assumes. There are a couple of flowerbeds out front, all covered in a couple of inches of snow, and there’s subtle signs of holiday decor slowly bleeding its way outside. He sees someone dressed in an oversized puffer by the entrance, arms occupied with red tinsel and large white ornaments, and figures that the first nice thing he’ll do is to help out a random stranger — just to prove something to his dad.
Satoru parks his Rolls Royce in a spot furthest away from everyone else in the parking lot and sends a ‘im alive and well’ text to Suguru, because he’s very much so going to be in frequent contact with him for the remainder of the trip, before heading up.
“Need a hand?” He points out the obvious but still manages to throw a smile as if he’s already fixed the situation unfolding in front of him.
Satoru’s presence seems to pull you from your busy trance. You wiped your body around, nearly smacking the damn tinsel in his face, and made a small surprised noise.
“I’ve got it,” you muffle out and he looks entirely unconvinced but, whatever, he tried anyway.
Satoru gives you a few encouraging pats on the back before heading inside, failing to realize his strength and causing you to lose your balance, making a few ornaments tumble to the ground. Thank god they’re all plastic though.
He pretends to not hear you yelling after him as he enters the double doors, immediately greeted by the scent of roasted coffee beans and leather. It’s the precious hour in the morning where nobody comes by, right after the cleaning staff had just finished vacuuming, when he struts in. He immediately spots someone vaguely familiar by the front desk. Long black hair, a red poofy bow tie in the back, and a distinctive scar across her face. The woman isn’t working alone, a man with another facial marking is next to her, brewing two cups of coffee by the espresso machine. 
Satoru looks at the woman again and outwardly smiles. “What are you doing here?”
“Ugh,” Utahime’s composure immediately falters at the sound of his voice, not that it’s a big shock. “Helping the family business, what else?” she throws back with a certain sharpness to her tone, and waves off the casual talk. “Have you even mentally prepared yourself for what you’re getting into?”
Satoru simply shrugs and saunters over to a nearby seat by the counter. “Nah, honestly just planning to fuck around till I get back.”
Utahime flushes a little, though it’s mainly from frustration. “Satoru Gojo, you really are—”
“Utahime,” the man next to her speaks, handing her a cup of coffee, and slides Satoru a freshly brewed one, too. “I can explain the details to him, if you would like?”
The older female rubs the bridge of her nose and exhales a long, overdue sigh. “Please do, Choso.”
“Yeah,” Satoru leans into the counter, lips pointed down at this new face. “Please, do tell.”
“You’re basically our little Santa helper.” A new voice rings out from behind him. It spooks Satoru from his seat and he whips his head around to be met with your narrow eyes.
“Huh?”
“Also think of this as an unpaid internship.” You start laughing when he gags on his own saliva at your statement. “Okay, you don’t have to be so dramatic about it.”
Satoru swallows. “U-Unpaid…?”
Now it’s Utahime’s turn to speak, she huffs and tosses a couple of stockings into his arms. “Your father sent us a lengthy email a few days prior regarding your bratty behavior. So, of course, we came prepared.” 
“Prepared…?” He feels the fabric in his hands and whines at the grainy texture. This is so not 100% real wool.
If Satoru thought he had any chance of actually taking over his father’s company, because he knows the difference between supply and demand, he’s wrong.
Customer service is not his forte. He’s always thrown emails and sponsorship paperwork at his many assistants, and Satoru doesn’t even know his own email log-in password. So, when you walked up to him first thing the next morning with a brown apron, the inn’s logo large and embroidered in the center, telling him how to function all these coffee machines that he’s seen behind hundreds of counters, it invoked some fear into his already wrecked nerves. Plus, no one dared to warn him about the clientele during a holiday rush.
“I want a venti peppermint frappe with two pumps of chocolate, three pumps of hazelnut, replace it with almond milk, one shot of espresso, and top it off with a drizzle of caramel on top.”
He slumps against the counter. “You sure you want all of that?”
“Can I please get a half dozen sfogliatella and a cannoli?
He starts picking at his cuticles and sneers. “Sorry, I don’t speak Italian.” 
“My change is supposed to be five dollars, you only gave me three back?”
Satoru groans. “You’re trying to scam me, aren’t you?”
By the end of his four hour shift, Satoru feels like he’s just done more charity work than he’s ever done in his life — actually, maybe this could also be comparable to the time where he did the ribbon cutting ceremony at Chanel; gotta support small businesses, right?
“Gojo.” You’re seated across from him behind the counter, arms crossed and pursed lips.
He barely spares you a glance as he idly plays whatever shitty mobile game that’s number one on the app store. “Mhm? What is it?” He clearly knows you’re upset, your voice practically screams ‘I will end you’ in the most monotonous way possible. But can you blame him? Of all places, Satoru does not want to spend his winter break here.
You jerk your head to the side, fingers rhythmically tapping away on the counter, clearly unimpressed. “It hasn’t even been a full day and you’ve managed to piss off every single customer.”
Satoru expression shifts, brow creasing, and sighs, grabbing a handful of mint chocolate from the freebie candy jar by the register. “Don’t be dramatic,” he rolls his eyes and shoves three pieces in his mouth before jabbing a finger at a young man. “I didn’t piss him off!”
You glower, cheeks slightly puffed out. “That’s Yuuji and he’s practically a family friend and Choso’s little brother, so he doesn’t count,” you explain before adding, “Plus, he’s literally nice to everyone. You’re not special.”
And for a second, Satoru considered arguing that fact. Having been born into wealth, granted whatever wish he wanted, his butlers and maids are always on speed dial, that’s the lifestyle he’s used to. Placed on this tiny rock called Earth just to take over it one day, is what his father used to always say to him. But how can he, Satoru Gojo, take over when he’s stuck working a minimum — scratch that, unpaid — wage job as punishment? 
Instead of fighting, Satoru slumps against the counter and pouts, like a little kid who just got their toy taken away. You and your sister Utahime have a clear advantage over him, by somehow being close, yet distant, friends to his family. Maybe karma is real. 
“I’m putting you on ski lessons later.”
Satoru’s ears perk at this. “Oh, so I get some employee benefits, right?”
You roll your eyes, digging deep in your pockets to pull out a sheet with his name next to a list of others. “Wrong. You’re in charge of teaching five year olds how to ski.” 
“Huh?”
Somehow that sounds even worse than being a barista. Kinda. 
By the end of his first day of unemployment, Satoru tries to convince himself that a full change of scenery is nice. Well, he has to convince himself, otherwise he’s stuck dreading each coming day for the rest of the week. 
“Tired yet, Gojo?”
You flop down on a spare armchair in his room, squishing his Canada Goose jacket underneath. He’s too tired to yell at you to get off and tumbles onto his bed, feet dangling off the edge, letting out a loud groan when his face immediately makes contact with the rough wooly blanket. Surprisingly to him, everything just feels so comfortable that the quality of the products doesn’t even cross his mind.
Sure, the air in the room is a bit musty, and he can feel his cheeks flaring up from the sudden change in temperature and the dull aching nag in his legs from demonstrating ski tricks to toddlers, but there’s an odd sense of fulfillment swelling in his chest just about now. He almost suggests taking over Choso’s lesson but, according to the hotel pamphlet, there’s going to be an ice fishing tournament tomorrow and he kinda wants to check that out, too.
“Exhausted,” he mumbles into the sheets, eyes squeezed shut. Satoru wiggles his body around for a few moments before slipping out of his snow boots and stares out the window, noticing flickering green and purple lights in the night sky. “Woah, are those…?”
He hears you laugh beside him. “Yeah, northern lights. We see them all the time during the winter.”
“Only seen them bitches in ‘Polar Express’.” Satoru finds himself saying whatever’s on his mind right now, his brain too whipped out to control his mouth. “You guys are lucky to see this every night.”
“I know you’re all pooped out from today but,” he feels the mattress dip by the edge and your fingers poking at his thighs. “Did you wanna head up to the balcony and watch them for a bit?” you say this experimentally, waiting for his reaction. 
Satoru might be a stranger to most natural phenomenons, having to zone out all the time whenever he did go on family vacations to a fancy national park when he was younger. Though, during the short time of spending his time here, it makes him think about packing up and leaving behind the fast paced city life for a bit of natural beauty and brightness.
“Carry me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re like a giant.” 
He manages to gather some energy to sit up on his elbows. “You should at least have some form of hospitality to a family friend, you know?”
You eye him for a long moment, and then finally huff, breaking the contact to kick your feet into the festive carpeted floor. “Alright, just don’t lean your whole body weight on me.”
“Wouldn’t count on that.”
Both of you end up tumbling onto the balcony rails around one in the morning. As expected, Satoru couldn’t keep to his promise, throwing his ridiculously long arms around your shoulders, and whining the whole way up the stairs. It’s not his fault that the inn didn’t have an elevator installed. In all, it’s not a bad day — a bad night, even. 
You straighten him against the railing before throwing a blanket over him. The fabric is thick and heavy, and Satoru forgets the ache in his limbs as he watches the way your eyes focus, eyebrows knitted, when you’re making sure he stays bundled up against the winter air. Once upon a time, Satoru never would’ve thought he would actually enjoy being in the company of someone who’s actively trying to teach him a lesson.
“Okay,” you say suddenly, almost like a reminder that you need to breathe, and pull away from him once he’s wrapped tightly like a swaddled baby. 
You both sit in silence for a moment, and Satoru feels the urge to fill all that silence. He supposes maybe that’s why most people find him so annoying. He never really shuts up, always wants to add the last comment to everything. Though, with the help of Suguru by his side, it’s gotten slightly easier and bearable for others but, when his head is big and full of loud thoughts, it’s so hard trying to calm the buzzing noise in his head and —
“Gojo, look,” your pointer finger darts at the illuminated skyline in the distance and he snaps his head, following the trail, before gasping.
He feels your other hand tugging at the blanket when he finally makes out two faint bright lights in the distance. You squirm slightly next to him, to the point where your shoulders touch, and Satoru finally breathes, because suddenly, there’s heat rushing in. The loud, rough winds around him seem to die down and he’s aware of the slightly gazed expression on your face as you look into the far distance.
“Did you make a wish?” he finds himself whispering.
You grin. “Yeah, gonna make you work here for eternity,” you reply back in good natured spirit.
Something stirs inside Satoru. Something important. Well, Satoru-level important, so in the grand scheme of things, not very — but still. He unravels parts of his blanket and throws it over your head, making sure that it messes up your hair, and laughs when you throw him another pout. 
“Did you make a wish?” you adjust the blanket so it covers your shoulders, moving a little closer to him, avoiding the cool breeze.
Satoru nods but presses a finger to his lips. “Not telling, though. Might not come true if I do.”
“Oh, shoot. Maybe I should’ve kept mine a secret then.”
He rolls his eyes and nudges your waist with an elbow. “You will definitely not see me here again.”
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Satoru realizes, very fast, that his life has become very different, very quickly. And it might not be the bad kind of different. 
Over the course of the next few days, he’s practically glued to your side as you’re showing him all things related to hospitality that his father tried to drill into him when he was a pre-teen. Obviously, it didn’t work at the time. Satoru’s known for being defiant just because he wanted to, and eventually his father stopped with the after school etiquette lessons. You, on the other hand, unfortunately have him tied around your fingers.
“You need to tidy up the edges more, Gojo.”
“There’s barely a wrinkle in these sheets!” He points at the bed sheet on the mattress, the one that he’d been working on for the last ten minutes in vain while you stood next to him with slightly concerned eyes. It’s a room service type of lesson today and, even though Satoru has never made his own bed before, he’s positive that he didn’t leave behind any smudges that might catch anyone’s eye.
“Did you check tuck in the sides? Or are you trying to get off easy for today?” You say, there’s a mild accusation in your tone when you speak, smiling as you step aside. 
And, despite the warm smile, Satoru frowns a little, because guess who forgot to tuck in the sides? 
When Satoru ducks his head around the mattress and sees a good loose chunk of the sheets hanging off and groans when you’re right. “It’s not my fault that they’ve made them so big for no reason,” he replies, somewhat embarrassed, rubbing the back of his head and messing up his already ruffled hair.
You roll your eyes and stick a tongue out. “You’re getting the hang of it though, maybe even faster than Yuuji when he first offered to help.”
He flushes at the unexpected praise and quickly fixes the sheets, turning his whole entire body away from your sight. “Better than Yuuji, right?”
“Oh? So, you only work better with compliments, Gojo?” You sound amused, as if a lightbulb just popped on top of your head.  
Satoru flattens out the bed once more, strangely now feeling satisfied with the final outcome before turning around, sticking out a tongue of his own. “Only if it’s from you,” he answers, honestly. 
You laugh, and hopefully it’s not at him. “I thought you would be more annoying to deal with.”
“So, I’m just regular amounts of annoying?” He points out, with a fake frown, his fingers fiddling with the edges of the sheet.
You turn your gaze, seemingly in deep thought, before responding with a small shrug and grin. “Possibly a perfect amount of annoying.”
Satoru feels the blood rushing to his cheeks, again. “Well, of course, it’s the perfect amount because I’m perfect,” he replies, instantly, but suddenly he’s shy and feels the need to go to the next room to fix their stupid sheets before he combusts in front of you.
“Gojo,” you say, almost hesitantly. 
He swallows and rubs the back of his neck, wiping off evidence of his sweaty palms. “Yeah?”
“You missed a spot,” and your pointer fingers direct at the far right corner of the bed frame. He must’ve pulled the sides too hard and it caused the other side to flip over. Ugh, he’s not cut out for this at all.
“I’m… uh, still better than Yuuji, right?”
“Mhm, getting there, Gojo.”
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By day four, Satoru has surprisingly adjusted to the rules and responsibilities. He’s not entirely sure what’s gotten him mildly well behaved, Suguru is a bit surprised by the daily updates being less… aggressive and whiny. What started as long vent paragraphs about the lack of heated flooring and needy customers, soon turned into photo albums of kids face planting into the snow and unconsented selfies with you in the background. Satoru absolutely makes sure you end up looking the worst out of the two because he’s gotta let his best friend know who’s the prettiest and he’s definitely racking up a blackmail album of all of your worst moments in case anything happens in the future. 
It’s closing time and he just got back from the reindeer shed out in the back, covered head to toe in all things hay and snow. First things first, and no one bothered to tell him, but reindeers smell bad. Like, really bad. Especially at the end of the day, where their pens are covered in shit and countless carrots and apple bits from the little kids overfeeding them. Satoru is vaguely aware of the fact that he smells, just like he’s vaguely aware that the hotel lobby is oddly quiet from the usual banter between you and the usual workers.
Utahime and Choso are sitting by the cafe bar, seemingly deep in conversation about ordering more supplies for next week. Satoru thinks about interrupting their session with probably an unrelated dumb question, but the idea dies when Utahime notices his presence and motions him to come over. 
“You stink,” Satoru casts a half-glare at Utahime and begins picking out some of the scattered hay pieces stuck to his sweater. 
“For the record, I became good friends with Rudolph and Vixen today,” he grumbles back and Choso throws him a pat on the back.
“Hey, I don’t mind your stink, by the way. Smells kinda nice,” Choso offers up, but Satoru only shoots him a very unhappy look.
“If you think I smell nice then I’m really worried about what you think smells bad,” then he turns over to Utahime again, who’s engrossed in whatever is on her clipboard right now. “So, what did you need from me?”
“My sister,” she starts and taps away at the clipboard before handing it over to him. It’s pages upon pages of invoices from the past month. “Could you hand this to her? She should be in the back.”
“You treating me like an errand boy?”
Utahime scoffs. “What? Don’t wanna see her?”
“No, I do,” he responds, a bit too fast for his own liking, and straightens out. “Uh, is that all?” Satoru hopes his face doesn’t betray how much he’s a bit excited to interact with you, given that today was a full day out in the trenches, and he absolutely needs to hear you say his name at least twice a day in order to have a good night’s sleep.
Choso is trying really hard not to laugh, and Satoru takes it as a sign that he currently has a cheesy smile on his face — go figure. “One of the corner rooms upstairs requested a weighted blanket, mind also doing that too?”
There’s a certain relief that floods through Satoru and he thinks maybe he can take on a few more tasks for the night if that means spending a little more time with you, even if his body is screaming that he needs to take a two hour long shower. 
“Hey,” he starts to say when he rounds the corner, “Where’d you put those weighted blankets again?”
Satoru expected to walk in on you neck-deep in paperwork. You’ve mentioned earlier in the week that this year would be the busiest and there’s a bunch of stuff due. Something about end of the year tax returns and inventory counts, it all goes out his ear but he remembers something similar that his father told him in a prior conversation. He thinks he could probably help you figure out some of it, but that might be a bit much.
What he walks in on, thought, is you sitting in your little makeshift office. You’re on your laptop, the screen’s tilted just right enough that he gets a glimpse of what you’re looking at. You’re looking at flights and hotels, even got a whole spreadsheet on the second monitor. From what he’s seen of you so far, you didn’t come off as the type to talk about your future that much.
His voice catches you by surprise and your expression flickers from something vaguely focused to embarrassment real quick. You hastily close out the tabs and go back to the hotel’s homepage.
“What is it, Gojo?” And there’s this awkward, oddly frantic moment of you fumbling around with the keyboard and mouse, like a teenage boy who’s just got caught looking at porn.
“Ah,” Satoru thinks seeing your flustered side is rather adorable, to say the least. “You tryin’ to plan a vacation or something?” He struts over to your desk, placing a firm hand onto the back of the chair, and there’s this smile on his face that just screams ‘gotcha’.
Your face scrunches up but it’s not out of annoyance. “Kinda?”
Even with a grumpy look, it’s a good look on you. Makes you kinda dark, brooding, and beautiful, and it turns your eyes into dark storm clouds, or some other weird, waxy poetic shit that Satoru can’t figure out the words to. Either way, Satoru thinks you look cute and can’t stop noticing your little facial movements. You’re more expressive than you would probably imagine.
“Ooh, where to?”
You sigh and start playing with your thumbs. “Malaysia. My friend told me great things about it and I’ve been meaning to go for a while now but time and money are always iffy.”
“Makes sense, I can imagine that being an inn assistant doesn’t pay all the bills.”
That was probably the wrong thing to say. You huff and glare, an icy-death glare, at him. If looks could kill, Satoru is sure that he’ll be six feet underground by now. 
“Weighted blankets are on the second floor closet by the laundry room,” you answer his initial question curtly before shutting the laptop. “Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“It was just a question,” he mumbles slowly, and maybe even a little dangerously. “If money’s an issue—”
“Gojo.” Your voice is fixed and rigid, one that leaves absolutely no room for debate. “Your dad was right about you; you always just fall back to your fame and wealth.”
As you’re busy staring, Satoru realizes that you’re kinda being a total ass to him right now.
“That’s not fair,” his voice is rising and can’t seem to put a stop to the words spilling out. “Don’t bring my dad into this conversation.”
“Or what? You can go back to your privileged life anytime you want. This is just a field trip for you while others actually have to try hard and make a living.” You spit out. 
“No one forced you to become an inn worker, you know? If you’re so worried about money then you could’ve just found another high paying job.” Satoru wrinkles his nose and his volume continues to rise. 
You immediately offer him a dark glare and it comes off in a cut-throat way that shuts Satoru up mid thought. The rest of his counters die in his throat when you start making hand gestures at the office exit and he gets the hint: ‘leave before I lose my shit’ is the calling he sees.
And it works, because he finds his tone shifting a little, awkwardly kicking the floor and backing off. “Whatever…”
That was last night and, by now, Satoru is realizing that he’s kind of a giant asshole and the guilt is slowly eating away at him. Was he always like this? It couldn’t have been — he’s only met you a few days ago, and this is only meant to be a quick, ‘vacational’, getaway. Sure he might be a bit selfish and a dick, but he had been able to function perfectly fine before all of this, hadn’t he? 
Satoru’s not really sure.
It’s noon, and he’s lying in bed. Choso had asked him to cover his shift at the cafe, and he’d agreed, readily, even though it’s supposed to be his day off, because you’re working. Choso had texted him, though, saying that you had simply said you’d work the entire shift by yourself.
Of course. It’s absolutely not funny anymore.
Satoru sighs. He’s going to apologize, that’s for sure. It wounds some of his pride, yeah, but whatever, this tension between you guys, though, isn’t worth it. He finds himself wasting his entire morning away rotting in bed. There are things that he could be doing, that he looks forward to, like feeding the reindeers or demonstrating basic ski moves to little kids. Choso and Yuuji totally got him addicted to yelling out ‘pizza’ and ‘french fry’ at every chance he gets. They also got him addicted to a shitty relationship forum they both browse, but somehow the idea of reading other people’s relationship drama, when he’s facing drama of his own, is kinda mentally exhausting.
On second thought, maybe he should post on that forum, actually.
It might not be such a bad idea.
Or maybe he could reach out to Suguru and ask how to apologize? 
His best friend is a bit more grounded and attuned with other people’s feelings compared to him, afterall. Satoru’s not good at this stuff and he’s always just cut others off whenever they do argue, but this feels different. And, well, for the first time in forever, Satoru is desperate. 
“I fucked up big time and I need to apologize, help me out here?”
Suguru scoffs over the line. “Wow, what happened to saying ‘hello’ or ‘how are you’?”
Satoru rolls his eyes. “Hi, hello. How are you? How do I make a sincere apology?”
“I’m good, thank you. Now, for your request, depends on how big the fuck up is.”
He bites his tongue, finding the right words to essentially not sound like a huge dick but, no matter how he wants to rephrase it, the outcome is the same. “I might’ve implied that she’s poor and needs someone to take care of her?” It sounds so stupid, so mean, and so degrading now that he’s saying it out loud. 
He hears Suguru sucking in his teeth and sighs. After a couple of pauses, his best friend finally speaks. “That’s pretty fucked up.”
Satoru frowns. “Okay, yeah, it is,” and he sits up in his bed when a snowball makes an impact against the window. It’s Utahime. And, currently, she’s throwing him the nastiest glare that a woman has ever given him in his life. “Um, I’ll call you back, buddy…”
“What? I haven’t given you—”
“Don’t have time for unwarranted advice right now.”
“You called me!”
“Bye!” Satoru ends the call before shuffling towards the window, swallowing a hard lump, and inches the glass panel just small enough for him to hear coherently and not big enough for her to punt him across the face. “Lovely morning, isn’t it?”
But Utahime is in an obvious shitty mood and Satoru’s lack of charming antics aren’t going to work this time. “I’m going to apologize, I promise,” he tries to insist.
“This is all your fault,” she immediately gets to the point and it makes him shrink back just a tiny bit. He’s starting to see that the bluntness runs in the family. “Just get your ass to work.”
“But my shift doesn’t start till—”
“Doesn’t matter,” Utahime starts to form an even bigger snowball and raises it to the window panel. “Ass out of bed, now.”
Okay, so as much as Satoru had tried to tell himself that this week wouldn’t be bad, it’s really starting to get fucking awful.
Everyone’s in a shit mood. Yuuji tries to crack some jokes but the usual crowd isn’t having it. You’ve been throwing Satoru dirty looks while working behind the cafe counter together and he’s been put on drink duty — which is his worst nightmare — while you’re attending to the customers because you’re young and cute enough for them to be nice to you. Satoru has spilled hot coffee and chocolate on himself like four times so far, and the shift just started. He’s terrified that the rest of this week is going to be like this.
“Can we talk?” Satoru whisper shouts over the espresso machine.
He sees your shoulders tensing up but immediately relaxes them afterwards. “Did you hear something, Yuuji?”
The boy looks up from the bar counter, it’s his day off and he’s catching up on some homework, but the seemingly growing tension that’s unfolding in front of him is making it painfully hard for him to focus on anything engineering related. Yuuji scratches the back of his neck before darting his eyes back and forth between the two of you. Normally, he would be the voice of reason, but Satoru doesn’t blame him when he shakes his head.
“N-Nah, must’ve been the wind or something...” 
Great, he’s been reduced to an air draft.
“Mhm, that’s what I thought,” you agree without missing a beat. As the next customer in line spends an eternity holding everyone up, debating whether to get the seasonal muffin or french toast to go with their drink, you continue, “Thought I heard a rotten brat for a second.”
He absolutely doesn’t expect the harsh insult. Satoru widens his eyes at the outburst and there’s a small pause, the silence ticking in between everyone, and he’s sure that you’re glaring him down somewhere in a small reflection on the counter. 
Satoru debates whether to call out your name and shake some sense into you, but Yuuji quickly swallows and makes a motion with his hands to his throat, a universal signal saying — ‘I wouldn’t test the waters, if I were you’.
And, after the customer finally decides that they didn’t want any pastries with their coffee order, you finish the transaction before announcing that you’re going on a small fifteen minute break to “stretch”. Though, anyone could see that you’re planning to cool off before you manage to actually blow up in Satoru’s face.
“How the hell am I going to talk to her?” he groans to Yuuji once you’re finally away. He’s managing the cash register and, surprisingly, finishes taking the remaining orders quite smoothly compared to his first day. At least he can pat himself on the back for this. 
“You’ve really pissed her off, dude,” Yuuji replies and Satoru just rolls his eyes because that’s all he’s been hearing from everyone else all day today. “You should talk to her when she’s not… charged up.”
“Way to point out the obvious.” Sometimes he forgets that Yuuji is a bit oblivious. How is he doing so well as a mechanical engineering major? 
Yuuji makes an audible ‘pop’ and whistles. “What did you even say to her?”
Satoru groans into his hands. “Did she not tell you?”
“Well, she wasn’t exactly in a chippy mood to talk about anything this morning — outside of work, that is.”
“Here’s a little TLDR version: might’ve said something classist.”
“Might’ve?”
“Okay, definitely said something classist.”
“Then…” Yuuji drums his fingers against the counter, deep in thought. “Y’know, whenever me and Megumi fight, I always invite him out to the movies to try and cheer him up. Might not be applicable to you but…”
Satoru blinks. “Are you suggesting a date would help?”
“Maybe not a date—”
“No, I’m sorry for calling you dumb, you’re so right—a nice date might work!”
“You never called me dumb, though?”
“Yeah, okay, whatever you say, kiddo.”
Satoru unravels the ribbon on his apron and throws it in Yuuji’s general direction, not caring if he tossed the stained uniform directly in his face. He hops the counter and pats the younger male on the shoulder, flashing him a genuine smile because, hey, maybe Yuuji actually is smarter than he looks.
“Gonna totally invite you to the wedding.”
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It’s no secret that Satoru Gojo hasn’t been on a proper date in a pathetically long time.
He has swiped right on a number of highly influential celebrities and figures on dating apps before. Matched with nearly all of them. Gone on…maybe a lot of first dates with not a lot of second dates coming right after. Who cares though, everyone’s just there for the photos and followers anyway. Satoru knows that he’s attractive and that he personally loves big, lavish dates but, at this point, he knows you enough to understand you absolutely hate big gestures. 
After a short winded conversation with Suguru and Utahime, separately, Satoru has concluded on not buying you first class tickets to Malaysia. 
“Are you trying to get her to hate your guts?” Was the general consensus of the conversation with said people. 
So, what’s the next best option if he can’t fly you out to Malaysia? The answer is pretty simple — bring Malaysia to Mistle Town. And no, he’s not going to be relying on his black card for anything, even though the back of his mind is telling him otherwise. 
Choso blinks several times at Satoru’s printed out proposal. The colorful letters and Google image photos of beaches and coconuts slapped poorly onto the document screams back at Choso and Yuuji, bright and early on Christmas Eve. 
It’s unusual for Satoru to be bouncing excitedly in place for someone other than himself. So this catches everyone off guard. 
Yuuji whispers something intangible to Choso, but Satoru is able to make it out as, “Do we even have coconuts here?”
To which Choso replies, “It’s winter, so I don’t think so.”
And Yuuji moves onto the next question in queue, “What should we do about the lack of palm trees?”
A patient sigh from Choso, “We could always trim the pine trees outside?” He lamely suggests. 
“It’s a good idea, no?” Satoru jumps right back in, completely missing the flat vibe from the brothers. He frowns. “Why are you guys giving me that look?” 
And, like his best friend and your sister, the brothers throw him a confused head tilt. 
“Well,” Yuuji weakly starts, “Your plan ‘Project: Bring Malaysia here in hopes of Y/N falling in love with me’ doesn’t really sound that great… even on paper.”
Satoru grins, fully expecting that to be the response. “I’ll order the things, don’t worry about it. I just need to borrow your lungs for this project.”
Yuuji scratches his cheek in confusion, laughing nervously again. “Our lungs…?” he echos. 
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“How long do I have to keep this dumb blindfold on, Choso?”
“U-Um,” Choso shoots Satoru a brow as he carefully guides you through the hotel lobby. 
It’s currently decked out from head to toe in all things yellow, green, and pink beach themed inflatables. Choso and Yuuji reminded Satoru last night that maybe two flamingos would’ve been enough to get the message across, but seeing that he ordered a whole colony? Yeah, he’s sending the rich boy prayers as he reels you in further, avoiding collision with the colorful balloons and seven-foot tall palm trees, too.
“Choso?”
He squeezes your shoulders when Satoru shoots him a thumbs up. “Ten seconds.”
Satoru quietly walks over to both of you, tip toeing so the sounds of his loafers are minimized against the flooring. Once he’s inches away, Choso retreats off into a different room, mouthing to him words of final encouragement, which Satoru gladly took. 
You appear restless under the blindfold. “I swear to god, if I take it off and there’s a giant pile of reindeer shit in the middle of the lobby I will actually kill somebody—”
And Satoru quietly debates whether or not he wants to keep you like this for a little while before revealing the big surprise. Seeing you flustered and confused is a very cute look on you, after all. But, he’s gotten you this far and it would absolutely kill him to leave you on such a bad notice. It’s now early evening, and the sun’s just starting to set enough that the golden rays illuminate your features from this angle. It takes Satoru back to his first private meeting with you on the balcony and he remembers why he’s even doing this in the first place.
Carefully and slowly, he slips down the blindfold and softly calls out your name. “Hey, take a look around you.”
Your eyes are blown wide when you see his face. Anger and frustration dissipate from your face when you soon realize that Satoru carries a soft expression. He watches as the emotions wash off as quickly as they came. Then, you finally take a look around your surroundings and gasp. “You—You did all of this for me?”
Satoru tenses a little, a bit on the edge. “You want the short or long answer?”
You don’t notice because you’re too preoccupied with the numerous fake flamingos around you. “On second thought, maybe no answer would also work.”
He laughs at this, slightly, before turning shy again. He feels silly, ashamed, and it makes his cheeks flush. “I wanted to say sorry again for what I said earlier.”
“You finally want to talk about it?”
He looks at your idle hands and then back to your face. When he sees that you don't move them away as he inches closer, he takes both of them into his palms, giving them a tight squeeze. “Yeah, I was a big idiot and I thought I was trying to help in the beginning but I just sounded—no, I am—a giant ass.” Satoru concludes. 
The atmosphere grows quiet and heavy again. The air humid and thick despite the opened windows and you’re looking at him. Then, there are tiny little smiles that break out on your face, like freckles and stars in the sky. 
“You’re such a pillow princess,” and he outright blushes ten shades darker at the nickname, “you’re lucky you’re cute.” Coming from you, that’s as good as a love confession.
I like you, he thinks, but doesn’t say it. He really likes you and doesn’t want to fuck this up.
But, everyone knows that Satoru Gojo is a child at heart. 
Satoru doesn’t know who gives in first; realistically, it might’ve been one of those stupid, rare, impossible moments where it’s completely shared. Suddenly the gaudy blow up palm trees and inflatable pool blur from his vision and he feels the world roaring around him when your palms rest on his cheeks. He ducks his head down but you’re the one who closes the distance between. 
You taste like strawberries and lavender, smell like warm cocoa, and feel softer than any sherpa blanket he’s had. Satoru closes his eyes and his vision goes white, his hands shakily snake around your waist, pressing you hard against his chest as if you might disappear at any moment. Satoru sighs into the kiss, it feels pleasantly warm, that throb in his chest, it’s a slow, steady thrum of simmering desire and comfort. He’s pretty sure he’s adding way too much tongue, the drool and saliva that comes dripping between you two will be uncomfortable soon, but for now, it adds to the blissed out, satisfaction you’re both basking in.
Finally, you pull away, shortening yourself a good several inches from planting the rest of your feet on the ground. Your eyes are glossed over, watery and looking at him without vexation. “You’re something else.” You say, but there’s no bite.
Satoru doesn’t speak for a moment. He’s too focused on the feeling of your warm fingers sprawled all over his heating face. Too focused on the dull pulse of both nervousness and infatuation slowly spreading through his body because you’re giving him that look. This all feels romantic and stupid, he thinks.
“I’m sorry, again.” The words are quiet, hesitant, and Satoru almost regrets them the moment he speaks.
You shift around a little, now dancing on the balls of your feet, but the grasp you have on his cheeks is still relatively firm, even applying a bit of more pressure as if it’s your way of showing reassurance. You tip your head; your eyes are so vivid and bright, it sends a shiver down Satoru’s spine. In this moment, he remembers every single thing between them in shocking detail — the awkwardness, the tension, the frustration, the dumb banters, and suddenly he’s overwhelmed.
“I’ll forgive you if you give me a private city tour,” you laugh. “And come back to work with us again next year.”
Satoru offers a small smile. “Unpaid?”
“Will you say no if it is?”
He hugs you tighter, a chuckle bubbles in his throat. “I don’t think I can say no because it’s you.”
Though, while some might think that Satoru is the real loser here for being whipped so hard over a small town girl, you know that deep down the real loser is you. Because you managed to have the son of a CEO wrapped around your fingers and now you will never know peace again. But you’re not really complaining; instead, you’re working even harder to save just enough to eventually see your dream destination while Satoru whines and sends an ungodly amount of selfies everyday when he’s back home. And you won’t allow yourself to get snappy because, well, you’re very much head over heels for him, too.
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© 2023 DOOBEA. do not copy any of my writing and translate/repost.
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sadandyetverysexy · 9 months
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Dp x Dc au: Normal is Good
Okay so hear me out— i see lots of “you can’t control Danny he’s a wild child” premises and like, I agree, I love that, but JUST hear me out. Danny who is just entranced by being treated like a NORMAL KID.
I think for best results this should be done with de-aged Danny so he’s a bit younger, but it can def work with regular Danny too.
Danny winds up running around Gotham for one reason or another doing INSANE SHIT to try and help or just survive and his family is out of the way. The explosion, Bad Fentons, etc— and one of the bats picks up Danny. This can be a dad!Jason, or dad!Dick, or classic Bruce Adoption. But they see this little shit running around and are like “no fucking way, not on my watch you little maniac”
Now, a lot of people use the “Jazz practically raised Danny” card, and I love that card and fully support it, but she was also a kid. With no other parents to consult. Who was raised by the Fentons originally and def has no clue what normal parents are like. So she probably didn’t exactly measure up to how a kid is MEANT to be raised. So Danny still had an incredibly strange childhood that just was Not Normal, but I feel like we see Danny with a deep desire to be normal. He doesn’t even really like being a superhero that much, he just wanted to be a kid.
So he gets bat adopted, and Danny is just functioning how he did growing up with the Fentons, which is No Restrictions Do What You Want. And then his bat dad (using Jason for this) is like “No. It’s Bed Time.” And Danny. Danny is ALL for that. He’s bewildered. Mystified. He’s not grumpy about being told what to do at ALL, because he’s just so shocked.
“You’re serious? You’re fucking dead-ass serious? It’s bed time? Oh my god this is so cool. I’ve never had a bed time before! This is great!” Because this is the first time he’s EVER been treated like a normal child by a parental figure. He just got sent to bed. Wow.
Having a parent who is in charge of keeping him healthy and actually enforces Danny taking care of himself is kind of cool.
“Eat your vegetables, they’re good for you.” And they won’t try to eat him back? Fuck yeah, he’ll eat his vegetables!
“No you aren’t allowed to go out at 2 in the morning, go back to bed, you have a doctors appointment for your yearly checkup tomorrow.” oh ancients, Danny has always heard other kids complain about not being allowed out at night, but to have himself told he can’t? This is so weird. And he’s never been to a yearly check up before!
“Brush your teeth before bed” “I can’t get cavities, I’m dead!” “Ya know, for some reason I don’t believe you. When was the last time you went to the dentist? Are you sure you can’t get them?” Danny has 7 cavities.
The first time Danny gets to actually use the “my dad said No” excuse, he is ECSTATIC. Jack and Maddie have LITERALLY never told him he can’t go out somewhere. Ever. He’s in a whole new world where he doesn’t have to fight ghosts, or be a hero, or anything and he loves it. He has a normal kids room without deadly weapons in it and normal kid hobbies and a fridge full of normal food and a parent who enforces a bed time, and it’s weird as hell and it’s great. Normal is pretty damn good, he has no clue what Sam and Tucker were always complaining about. Shits sweet.
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arthur-r · 1 year
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trying to have someone pick me up from school because i’m having a major anxiety attack and my sister can get me but not for 20 minutes and i’m going to explode
#and a friend of mine who i was trying really really hard to be normal in front of knows now#falling apart because i feel like a stranger in my own skin#and i know a lot of this is whatever stupid period imbalance whatever but it’s so fucking bad#anyway philosophy club was cancelled and it made me fall apart entirely#because also. said friend that i’m trying to be normal in front of. isn’t going to go there anymore#we can’t have philosophy club without her. and i’#i’m getting too attached and i’m scared cause no matter what i always manage to do that and i can’t be regular for anybody#i either don’t care and i’m a stupid terrible friend or i get so much where it’s#friend who i’m just gonna call c cause her name is too specific and i don’t want her to see#yesterday she had therapy and so she had to leave class early and i asked when she was going to be back and she said she wouldn’t#and something of my expression she asked like wait is that okay?? are you going to be okay????#and i just feel terrible because it’s just. i can be fucking broken!!!! people can let me be broken i don’t want to ruin your life#it doesn’t fucking matter if i’m gonna be okay about it just please stop looking at me#because i don’t do it on purpose and it feels like i’m guilt tripping. and now today i’m falling apart and just trying to be normal and it’s#i don’t need you helping me please hang up on me if i’m being stupid#i just!!!! i’m so tired of not being enough and making my stress everyone else’s problem. i should be able to sit still and shut up#i feel like that stupid guy from that stupid story. ordinary to an exponent. dragging everyone down with my impossible to ignore inadequacy#and i just made eye contact with my fucking counselor i hate it here. sitting in that stupid secret room i found last year for when im dying#the one my teacher called and let me go there instead of lunch and none of my friends were worried about me when i didn’t show up at lunch#and it’s an offshoot of student support and i can see everyone on their way to college appointments and i don’t want to be here#my sister will be here soon but i don’t want to talk to her i just want to go home and not be here anymore#i’m having a crisis and i don’t want to be having a crisis. i was supposed to ask if c is going to the charity gala today#and other normal person questions. i had normal person questions for so many people#and once i cross the line into crisis then things aren’t normal and i can never go back#to the things i want to know about and say and just being normal please!!!!#and so here i am and i’m struggling. my sister will be here soon. i’m just so upset and tired and want to go home#and i guess i will but that’s not the place i mean when i say that. so i’m not going to be home for a long time#i dont know. i’m sorry. almost out of tags. heading home soon#vent cw#friends only
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feyascorner · 3 months
Text
until I come back alive
summary. in which you come back injured from a particularly unlucky battle, and Astarion realizes his feigned affections for you are not feigned at all.
warnings. angst, fluff, Astarion being bad at feelings
pairing. Astarion x GN!reader
a/n. this is super long omg ALSO TYSM for the love on my previous fic! It was my first post so I didn’t realize more than like two ppl would see it!! Kind of scary but also I can write more astarion so oh well 🙏
“The way they look at you is different from the way they look at us.”
Astarion raises a brow at this, glancing at Karlach who adjusts a log in the campfire paying no heed to the flickering flames brushing against her skin. She smiles to herself, genuinely, and he questions if she’s finally gone mad.
“So have you said the big ‘L’ word yet?” she asks excitedly, turning to him with a big grin. He shifts away from her, the increasing heat radiating off her body but she doesn’t seem to care, too busy staring at him expectantly.
“The what?”
“You know! The ‘L’ word,” she says the last part in a hushed whisper, as if it’d be a sin for anyone else to hear. Occasionally it baffles him how childish she can be, though he’d never voice these concerns out loud considering she could snap his poor body in half if she really wanted.
He also knows that she’s more emotionally capable in how she approaches these relationships (though one could argue it’s just innocence)—in ways he’s lost over the past 200 years. Though, he makes an effort to shove these thoughts to the deepest corners of his brain for the sake of his own sanity.
“If you’re speaking of ‘love,’” He emphasizes it with a strange accent. “No. I have not. Nor have they.”
She appears puzzled. “Why not?”
He sighs irritably, bringing a hand to adjust the cuffs on his hand. “Must everything be put bluntly? So glaringly obvious?”
“You love each other, don’t you?”
At this, he falters, just the slightest before plastering his usual grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Love is a wide spectrum, dear. Tav and I are whatever they want us to be.”
A late night partner would be the most positive thing he could refer you to. A fling, an amusement, or whatever words people described the arrangement between the two of you as, he didn’t care for it. He’d given himself to you, and you to him—-physically, at least, and you’d seem more than content with it. In return, he received protection, which was a sufficient payment in return for his hushed words of affection and kisses. A fair trade, he deemed.
Sure, he could’ve chosen anyone else in the camp. But he’d seen the way your eyes lit up at the sight of him, surely dazed at his flirtatious tendencies. You’d been an easy target. A survival tool.
And yes, maybe he’d played with your innocent feelings, but could you really blame him? He’d given you the nights of your life, for something so simple in return. It was a transaction.
Karlach waves a dismissive hand which brings him back to the present, propping herself on her arm behind her. “Life’s too short for that bullshit. Either you love someone or you don’t.”
“Fortunately for me, I have all of eternity,” he snorts. “Unless I were to suddenly lose the unwanted visitor inside my head and step into the sunlight, I’ll be here to watch the world fall and rise a dozen times over I’m afraid.”
“But they don’t,” Karlach frowns. “Tav doesn’t have eternity.”
He ignores the way his jaw clenches. He’s afraid, he thinks, of losing the freedom he’s just gained.
“Did you call me?”
Both the vampire and tiefling turn to your voice, where you stand blankly with an armful of logs clutched to your waist. Karlach opens her mouth to respond, but Astarion is faster.
“Nothing, darling. Just answering a few curious questions from Karlach here.”
“Oh,” you blink at him, shrugging before setting the logs beside the fireplace. “Well, Gale, Shadowheart, and I are going to the village across the forest tomorrow morning to check on the goblins appearing there recently. Won’t be back till noon so don’t wait up.”
“Don’t worry,” Karlach laughs. “I’ll keep the camp in order while you’re gone. If Astarion tries to bite Lae’zel, though, his fate’s inevitable.”
He rolls his eyes, opting to stand from his spot and take your hand. “Come along, darling. Any longer near this damned fireplace and my skin may melt.”
You nod with a smile, waving at Karlach before you follow him into his tent without a word of protest.
Easy, he thinks. Too easy.
He soon finds himself staring up at you from his place, laying his head on your lap as you read through a few scrolls you found throughout the day. He clicks his tongue and you look down, offering that sickeningly sweet smile again. “What’s wrong?”
“You have the most handsome person in this camp on your bloody lap and you want to read?”
You snicker at this, setting the scroll down beside you. “What do you suggest I do? Worship the very eyelashes on your face?”
“My body deserves much more praise than just the eyelashes.”
“Hm…” you pretend to be in thought. “That mole on your face is very obvious too.”
He gasps, immediately shooting upward as he grabs at his own face. “Tell me you’re lying.”
Your laughter rings throughout the tent, airy as you pull his hand away from his face. “I’m kidding, mostly.”
He stares at you as you recollect yourself, finding himself gazing at you far longer than he’d like to admit. Quickly, he adjusts, fiddling with the hand mirror he always keeps under his pillow as he watches you through it. “Karlach spoke of something ridiculous today. She said you were in love with me.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” he rolls his eyes. “That woman lives in a fairy tale I tell you. How she went through 10 years in Avernus is beyond me.”
There’s slight hesitance in your voice, and if he’d not learned your body language early on in your arrangement, he wouldn’t have even noticed it. “Astarion, have you ever been in love?”
He pauses at this, meeting your eyes head on now. There’s a heavier thickness in the air between the short distance between the two of you, and he immediately gauges what you want him to say. A lie readies itself at the tip of his tongue, his gaze searching yours for whatever fantasy that lives behind them.
Instead, your expression is blank. He finds nothing.
“No.” He’s not sure why he responded honestly, but it’s too late to take it back. “Have you?”
You look to the side. “I’m not sure anymore.”
“Anymore?” He shifts his head when you turn your chin further away, avoiding confrontation. “Has someone captured your impenetrable heart as of late? How intriguing—do tell.”
His teasing tone drops when you don’t smile at his usual antics. He’s not stupid—far from it. He knows you’ve begun to fall for him. It’s an obvious result from the 200 years of instinctive flirting he has tucked away in what remains of his soul, and it’s what he intended. What he needed.
The more enraptured you are, the longer he has protection.
He gently tilts your chin toward him, his fang visible through the grin that stretches across his face. “Tell me, pet, do you love me?”
Your eyes drop to his lips. “Do you want me to?”
A bunny caught in the fangs of a fox. It would be so easy to indulge—to go as far as to make you nothing but a puppet he toys with for his own personal gains. He can sense the way your finger twitches, itching to lace them with his own, and the crueler side of him forces his hand to stay put.
He wordlessly leans toward you, his lips grazing against the side of your neck. You shiver at the touch and he smiles wickedly to himself, drinking in the gasp that escapes you when he tilts your neck to the other side, where he usually drinks.
He doesn’t even have to ask. “Just—be gentle. Please.”
“Of course.” He unhinges his jaw, ready to plunge the knives of his teeth into where the sweet liquid gold rushes to your face, his shoulders finally relaxing when—
“I love you,” you whisper under your breath.
He stops.
Though unsure why, he freezes. Completely and utterly freezes.
“Astarion?”
He pulls away slowly, staring at you for a long moment before offering another smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“You look exhausted, my dear. I think that’s enough for tonight.”
“But you didn’t even feed?”
“I can handle myself, darling, as much as I appreciate your worries,” he stands and holds the flap of the tent open, practically a silent demand for you to leave.
He should be ecstatic. Gleaming with joy from being offered a drop of your blood, but instead, he feels knots forming in his stomach. And the longer he watches you, the worst they seem the get.
Hurt flashes across your face and he ignores the sudden tightness in his chest.
“Okay, well,” you say, stepping out hesitantly. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, my dear.”
And as he lies wide awake in the middle of the night with nothing to accompany him but his own thoughts, he finds that all of them are overruled by his endless need for warmth. Not just anyone’s but the one he’s become accustomed to the past few months. No matter how much he curls up in his bedroll, all he can feel is the chill of his own body.
And he hates it more than he expected.
——
By the time he awakens, you’re long gone.
He’s rather productive. Taking walks, gathering supplies, catching up on his reading, he refuses to sit and lie around as the others await for you and your companions to return from the goblin village.
He even entertains sitting through one of Karlach’s dances, which somehow ends up being more entertaining than he’d imagined. While she didn’t fall flat on her face (which he admittedly looked forward to), it burnt through time regardless.
The peace is broken when he hears footsteps rushing toward the camp. He’s memorized everyone’s intervals when sprinting or pacing, so he’s quick to identify Gale and Shadowheart. He listens keenly for your own footsteps.
There are no third pair of footsteps at all.
Shadowheart stumbles into the camp, in a panic compared to her usual self, as she points toward a spot on the ground and snaps at Gale to put something down.
He only sees when she moves out of the way that this something, is rather someone.
You’re writhing in pain, eyes shut in an unconsciousness that’s surely preferable to what you’re feeling. You’re sweating, groaning in your sleep and everyone is immediately rushing to you.
His face would’ve gone pale, if it weren’t for the fact that he was already as ghostly as a sheet.
“What happened,” Lae’zel demands in place of him, and he opts to mindlessly push Gale to the side, who doesn’t say a word from the expression on Astarion’s face. He doesn’t know what he looks like, but from Gale’s reaction, it’s better he never know.
“Damned poison arrows,” Shadowheart hisses. “I’m completely out of magic for today. I need to make an antidote by hand before their condition gets any worse than it already is.”
Astarion brushes the back of his knuckles against your cheek. The creases between your brows soften for the slightest moment before they’re back again.
Lae’zel and Shadowheart are arguing again—something about how one thing would’ve happened if another thing hadn’t. He’s not even sure what they’re arguing about, but in an instant, rage flickers in his chest.
“Do something!” He snaps, suddenly making the camp go quiet. “Or are you just going to stand there and watch them die?”
He suddenly feels a hand grab his, and his eyes shoot down to see your own. Even in your sleep, you reach out to him. Even in the deepest part of slumber, you search for him. It makes him feel like the shittiest and luckiest person alive, especially as the your hurt expression from last night flashes in his mind.
“Help them,” the words spill out against his will, his tone breaking down into something more desperate. “Do something. For God’s sake, anything.”
In the moment, he doesn’t care about protection. He doesn’t give a shit about any of that because the second he’d seen you in genuine pain, it was all he needed to completely forget about the stupid reasons why he approached you in the first place.
All he cared about was your life.
Everyone glances at one another knowingly, but even Lae’zel doesn’t break the silence. Shadowheart spares him a furrowed glare before rushing to gather the antidote.
You only awake hours later. Certainly during the middle of the night, to the ceiling of a tent that’s certainly not your own. You slowly urge yourself to sit up, a pounding headache ringing in your skull, but your worries about it vanish when you hear his voice.
“Quite the nap, darling.”
You snap around to see him on the other side of the tent, albeit only a few feet away from how crunched it is. Fascinating, he thinks, that even with your disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes, he finds you more beautiful than before. “What happened?”
“You nearly died.”
“…how?”
“Poison,” he’s fiddling with his dagger, refusing to look at you. He can’t. In fear of what he might say. “Caused a reasonable panic too. Seems like our companions have grown more attached to you than anyone’s expected.”
You purse your lips, and he quickly mortifies at the exceeding need to part them with his own. You don’t seem to notice. “You too?”
“I was certainly worried our esteemed leader may kick the bucket earlier than anticipated, yes.”
“No, I mean,” you scrunch your eyes sheepishly, and he thinks it’s adorable. Gods he must be going insane. “Have you…grown attached?”
He raises a brow. “You just woke up from a life threatening experience and that’s what piques your interest?”
Your cheeks turn a shade darker. He wants to touch them. “I just…I was worried all day. About us. I got too distracted and of course, that’s on me, but one of the goblins took advantage and—“
He wants to climb into a coffin, guilt eating away at what remains of his organs. But when you fidget with the ends of his bedroll blanket, he can’t tell if his stomach is churning from shame or something else.
You stop, close your mouth, then open it again. “When I passed out, I was just thinking about how I would hate for us to part like that. I didn’t want last night to be our last moment.”
“No,” he says firmly. “While you’d been asleep, I’ve had quite some time to think, darling. And more time to wallow in my self pity for being stuck with an actual weirdo. I mean, do you hear yourself? Worrying about such a stupid encounter while on your deathbed? You should’ve been cursing me with all the strength you had left if you were going to think about me of all people!”
You smile a bit, and he grits his teeth at the way his throat goes dry. “I’m just glad.”
“For getting poisoned?”
“No,” you roll your eyes. “I’m glad I didn’t scare you off by telling you I loved you. I was afraid we wouldn’t talk like this anymore.”
His body wills him to freeze up again. To push you away, and to force the fantasy that his feelings towards you were nothing but manipulative. That you were nothing but a way to survive to him. But no, he couldn’t stand such cowardice any longer. Not after nearly losing you.
You offer him a pathetic laugh. “I don’t expect you to say it back, nor for you to feel the same way. I just—felt like you needed to know. It doesn’t change anything between us I hope. It just felt wrong to keep it to myself any longer and the way you reacted just made me regret it so much-“
He wraps his palm in front of your mouth, his other hand pulling you closer to his side in an instant. With your faces inches apart, he sighs irritably. “As much as I’d like to keep hearing your voice, I can’t stand its contents any longer I’m afraid.”
He lowers his hand, staring straight at your wide eyes as he narrows his own. “I do. Like you, I mean. A lot more than I’d like to admit, quite frankly.”
You blink as if you’re staring at a miracle.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles with a scoff. “I’ve had these feelings for a while now, I just didn’t wish to face them. When you said that to me yesterday, I just didn’t know how to respond, and for that, I am sorry. But losing you—I’m not sure what I would have done, but it’s certainly not a pretty sight.”
Your eyes soften and he’s certain he can lose himself within them for years. “I’ve never heard you sound so—sincere.”
He raises your knuckles to his lips, keeping them close even as he speaks. “I approached you out of necessity, I’ll admit. But it seems you’ve grown on me in a way I haven’t experienced since I’ve turned into a spawn. What you are to me—it’s difficult to describe.” He pauses. “Sometimes, I can still feel my heart beating with you.”
As your fingers brush against the side of his face, he swears he can feel it again. He almost feels warm, maybe even safe. And he’s sick and tired of denying himself of your embrace when death is around every corner.
You’re soon curled up into his chest, with his chin atop of your head. He’s not sure how much time passes—maybe hours, or even days as he continues to observe your face, committing each and every detail to his memory. And when your breathing steadies, falling into deep slumber, he finally has the courage to whisper the words against your hair.
“I love you.”
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gasstationlady · 19 days
Text
the start of something beautiful | a lando norris social media au
pairing: lando norris x private!reader (fc: tyla)
lando is spotted with an unknown woman, and everyone thinks she’s another fling. however, later revealed as naomi campbell’s daughter, lando's fans slowly start to love her despite her tendency to be private.
notes: btw, i’m so sorry i’ve been mia for a while! honestly, i have a ton of drafts i’ve written over the time i didn’t post, but i lowkey hate all of them lmao. anyways, hope you enjoy this fluff :)
disclaimer: swearing. photos not mine. OLD PIC OF JAZ AND ROSS (yes it’s a warning bc i’m still mourning that relationship, and ik i’m not the only one). there are a few mistakes in the tweets that i was too lazy to fix lol. also, i hope the flow doesn’t feel too rushed!
masterlist
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, yourbestie and 138 others
yourusername 🌸
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yourbestie 👀
↳ yourusername 🙈
yourbestie framing these pics brb 😍😍
f1gossip
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2,993 likes
f1gossip We received these photos of Lando and a girl today! It looks like the same girl he has been spotted with for the past 3 months, but it’s still unclear who it is. ☕️
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user three months of them being pictured AND YET NONE CLEARLY CAPTURE HER FACE. that’s some bs
↳ user no deadass bc you guys had one job 🙄
user lmaoooo i know the delulu fans are crying that she’s still here
user Are we sure it's the same girl? Lmfao even if it is, he's probably going to get tired of her soon!
user god i hope people learn and treat her better than how they treated luisinha
landonorris
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 759,301 others
landonorris First time trying wakeboarding 🤙
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user happy lando >>>
user Where’s your girlfriend
user not the red bull life vest lmfaoo
user lando rlly said here’s some shirtless pics to distract u
↳ user frrr but like it’s not working 😭
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f1gossip
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12,321 likes
f1gossip Naomi Campbell and daughter, Y/N Campbell, making an appearance at today’s GP! It's presumed that Y/N is dating Mclaren driver, Lando Norris. Our sources in the paddock mentions that the two visited the Mercedes, Ferrari, and Mclaren garages before the race. 👀
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user i'm literally in love w her she's soo beautiful 😍
user this actually makes sense that they knew each other since naomi has been connected to f1 for a while now
user I would be unstoppable if I looked like her.
user she looks so kind 🥺🥺
user oh the things i would do to reincarnate as a wealthy person’s child
user i was there and got to meet her and i’d just like to say that i’d go to war for her
landoupdates
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7,626 likes
landoupdates Max, Lando, and Y/N (seen in second photo, far right) with fans at an after party! We received these pictures a few minutes ago, and the fan included “Y/N mostly stood behind as Max and Lando were asked for photos but she was so so kind !! Although you can tell she likes to keep to herself, she told me she thought my dress was cute and even got Lando’s attention for me so I could ask for a picture 😭 Also, he kept holding her hand !!!”
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user her face card is insane.
user now that we know she's naomi's daughter, i can't believe we didn't see it before LOL
user “he kept holding her hand” 😭😭😭😭😭
user I have never wanted someone to go off private so bad 😩
user honestly she’s my new fav wag
user it’s the way everyone loves her rn lmaoooo
user LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT
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f1gossip
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11,234 likes
f1gossip Lando, Ginge, and Ethan possibly alluding to Lando’s new relationship with Y/N in the recent Quadrant video 👀👀
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user not them clowning him 😭
user i mean we all know by now that they’re together but this was the cherry on top
user melting over how he couldn’t stop smiling 🥹
user the fact that he kept this clip in 😩😩
user I AM ONCE AGAIN ASKING “LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT”
user I get it 😭 I also wouldn’t be able to hide that I’m dating Y/N
user perfect example of private but not a secret, in love with them 🥹🥹
landoupdates
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5,389 likes
landoupdates A few photos of Lando and Y/N at the paddock today ☺️
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user literally my fav couple
user when is he gonna make it officially on insta
↳ user My thoughts exactly!! 😭😭 I know not everything has to be posted, but I’m just excited to see him officially announce it.
user my girl y/n looked so fucking good today
user i just want him to post her solely because i want more y/n pics
↳ user LOL you’re so real for that
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landonorris
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liked by yourusername, angryginge13, georgerussell63 and 1,221,334 others
landonorris We so good ❤️
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user THE HAND PLACEMENT
user not tagging her is criminal 😭😭
↳ user girl what’s the point when she’s on private
user When will it be my turn 😩
user LANDO??? OMFG
user TURN IT UP IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE 😁😁😁🔊🔊
user omggg i can’t, they’re goals
user Y/N IS SO CUTE
user i luv my parents
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spicyhamsamson · 1 year
Text
I am. So fucking tired of Batman being portrayed as a bad parent and a toxic person. And it’s so goddamn widespread. Fuck, it might be as bad as the whole “Superman being a kindhearted Boy Scout is boring” take.
I get it, the man’s not exactly stable, he watched his parents get murdered in front of him and spent years of his life training to fight crime dressed like a giant scary bat, of course he’s not perfect.
But to say that Bruce Wayne isn’t caring, isn’t empathetic, to call him abusive…it just misses the point of who the character is to me.
Why do you think he fights crime? Yes, part of it is because he’s bitter and sad because his parents were cruelly ripped from him as a child, and he’s lashing out against the corruption of his city. It’s arguably the focus of his earlier years. But he learns to become more than that. He learns to bring hope, a chance to be better.
Harleen Quinzel is the Joker’s right hand lady, but she’s also a victim of an abusive relationship and a woman with a surprisingly strong moral compass and a love for animals, and wants to get better. That’s why we see time and time again that he has a noticeable soft spot for her, because he knows that she’s a good person at her core.
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Harvey Dent is a man who will decide someone’s fate on a coin toss(and a pretty inaccurate depiction of DID), but he’s also Bruce’s close friend who clearly needs help learning to live with his condition, rather than try to get rid of it, and someone who he still goes out of his way to visit, even after everything, because he recognizes he’s not just a criminal with a weird gimmick, he’s a man who is struggling with a condition that he’s mishandled his whole life.
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Victor Fries is a cold, emotionless man who will callously discard allies and blame them for being careless, but he’s also a man who’s either lashing out because he had the love of his life taken from him, or just desperate to make sure she isn’t taken from him, and is willing to do anything just to guarantee her survival. Of course Batman would understand, his whole life was defined by having people he loved taken away from him.
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Even the Joker, arguably one of the most morally bankrupt characters in all of fiction, is someone that Batman has offered a chance to. After the guy shoots the daughter of his friend, a girl he cared for like she was his own kid, and paralyzes her from the waist down, he tells the Joker that he doesn’t want to hurt him. He wants to get him help. He looks at this monster who has taken countless lives and says “You don’t have to be alone.”
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For fuck’s sake, he sat with Joe Chill in his last moments so that he wouldn’t be alone. Joe Chill, the man who murdered his parents, who took so much from him, the person responsible for all of the misery and suffering he’s gone through. And he sits with the man to comfort him while dies. Do you know how much emotional intelligence and maturity that must take? To comfort someone who arguably ruined your life?
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And you’re gonna tell me the man who did that would abuse his kids?
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That he’d hold up the young man whose death was his greatest failure, the boy he grieved, and say this?
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That he’d look his goddamn son in the eyes and say this to him?
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Why the FUCK do you think he took in Dick Grayson in the first place? It wasn’t because he saw the kid and thought “Ah. A potential soldier.”, it was because he saw a boy experiencing the same heartbreaking loss he had so many years ago, and wanted to make sure he didn’t end up as bitter and miserable as he was.
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Why do you think he smiled when Tim Drake presented him a broken watch for Father’s Day? Because he was just happy to see the boy alive and safe.
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DAMIAN LITERALLY POINTED AT A COW AND SAID “I’m keeping her. She’s Bat-Cow.” AND BRUCE JUST WENT WITH IT. DIDN’T EVEN NEED TO ARGUE WHY BRUCE SHOULD LET HIM KEEP HER. HE SAID “this cow is my pet now” AND BRUCE SAID “aight, bet”.
The thing about Batman is that he wants to make sure nobody else ends up feeling the way he does. That’s not just about stopping a mugger so a boy’s parents aren’t gunned down. It’s about giving his loved ones the support and care that he couldn’t have, because it was taken from him. It’s about comforting someone who just went through a traumatic experience and letting them know that they’re going to be okay. It’s about going to someone locked away in a cell who thinks that they’re a lost cause and a burden to society and telling them that he wants to help them get better. It’s about EMPATHY and COMPASSION.
That’s what makes him a HERO. He’s meant to inspire us, to show us that we can have that same empathy for others around us, that we can turn our suffering into hope for a better future.
I just wish more people at DC would start recognizing that. But I might as well follow that example myself. Maybe through this struggle of having to see this hero mistreat the people around him and act like a grade-A jackass, people will start to recognize that missing compassion, and slowly but surely, it might come back. After all, what is this post, if not trying to bring attention to the matter in the hopes of fixing it?
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ragingbookdragon · 2 months
Text
Price finds her in the equipment room doing a rather meticulous job of cleaning their weapons, but he also notices that the only set she currently has out, is none other than the side-arm and knives owned by their resident Lieutenant.
“Quite rare to see you here on a Friday night,” he says, taking a seat across from her, grabbing an oiled rag to start cleaning with. “Shouldn’t you be going out with Gaz and Soap for drinks?”
She pauses, looks up and then lowers her gaze back to the firing pin she’s cleaning. “Didn’t feel like going out tonight, Captain.”
“Didn’t feel like it or didn’t feel like seeing ‘you know who?’”
“You know?” She asks and he shrugs.
“It’s my job to know everything that happens within the one-four-one.”
“I thought that was Miss Kate’s job?”
Price smiles. “We share responsibility.” He methodically rubs the rag along the parts of the side-arm, his expression and voice becoming rather calm but she feels the air turn a little stern, if almost a fatherly stern. “You’ve been avoiding him.”
She makes a noise in her throat. “I can’t exactly talk to him. Look what happened last time.”
“He feels bad.”
“I’m sure he does,” she retorts, looking at him. “He really hurt my feelings. What am I supposed to do, tell him it’s okay? That we can move on like he didn’t tell me I’m clingy?” She stops, looks down at her hands. “I sound like a fucking child.”
Price hums. “You actually sound like a person who’s had their feelings hurt and you’re not sure how to proceed.” He dips the rag in a big more oil. “I know it doesn’t equate what he’s said to you, but allow me to fill in some blanks you might have on Simon.”
She cocks a brow. “Okay?”
“Simon was the oldest child of two. Abusive dad, terrified mom. Younger brother used to terrorize him too.” He goes back to cleaning the gun parts. “Nine-eleven had Simon enlisting, came back after a lull, kicked his dad out, got his brother sober and even found himself the proud uncle of a nephew named Joseph.”
“Where are they now?” She asks. “Simon’s from Birmingham, right?”
“He is,” he answers, but his face and voice are void of any hope. “But they’re not anymore.”
She blinks, feels the shift in temperature. “They…moved?” She hopes; he meets her gaze, and she knows instantly. “Oh…I…how did it…”
“I don’t want to divulge Simon’s past without his permission, because it’s also his own choice to tell you what happened, but I can tell you that Simon had a personal vendetta against the man and others who hurt his family. And he took care of it.” Price inhales and exhales. “In doing so…Simon sacrificed himself. He made himself—“
“A Ghost,” she finishes, and he nods.
“Simon, when it comes down to what he truly is beneath his cold stoicism, my dear, is simply a very tired and even more broken-hearted man who believes that if he keeps everything and everyone at a distance, then nothing can hurt him.” Price sets the weapon and rag down. “He likes to think he’s incapable of feeling but don’t let his demeanor or words fool you, Simon feels more deeply for the people he loves more than anyone I’ve ever met.”
Something aches in her chest, rising up to close around her throat as she asks, “A man like him…he can still love?”
He smiles half-heartedly. “I’ve seen the man run back through a burning building to pull Gaz out. I’ve seen him run through gunfire, take a bullet to the thigh and keep going to carry Soap.” He nudges her under the table. “I’ve even seen him pull your ass out of even stickier situations. If we viewed Simon how he wanted us to view him, it’d be easy to call him a heartless bastard. But he isn’t as heartless as he wishes he was.”
“That just shows he’s doing his job as our superior officer,” she counters weakly. “He’s doing it because it’s his duty to get his subordinates out.”
“Does it ever just feel like that?”
“…no.”
Price gazes on her like a father to his daughter with her first heartbreak. “What do you feel right now, puffin?”
She purses her lips, looks down at the various weapons on the table before she admits, “I’m still hurt. His words keep replaying in my mind. I’m clingy and I’m always around.” She fiddles with the fraying hem of the rag. “That I’m a bother.”
“Would it make a difference if I told you that I don’t think such things?”
She shrugs.
Price blinks, reaches up and rubs his chin thoughtfully. “You can be very excitable. Sometimes, I think you let it get the better of you and you often forget that others don’t always have the same personality as you.”
“Excitable is the polite way of saying annoying.”
“If I wanted to say you were annoying, I would’ve. You genuinely are a good and wholesome person, my dear. But you have to remember that everyone has a different level of extroversion. Sometimes, we have to tone it down a bit.” He meets her gaze and she knows his is full of honesty. “Simon doesn’t actually hate you. And he probably feels a tad bit of annoyance, but then again, he always does regardless of who it is, because Simon hates anything that makes noise. But I also know that he feels bad for what he did and said to you—and he wants to make it right.”
She takes in his words. “Do I need to engage him first? Extend some olive branch for peace?”
Price rises from the table and smiles, walks around and pats her shoulder. “Nah, let him come to you.”
“You really think he will?”
“I do. He knows what he’s gotta do and he’ll do it because he knows it’s the right thing to do. But he’ll be skittish. He’s like a newborn deer.” He winks. “Let him mull over how he wants to do it. As for you,” he points at her. “You’ve gotta move on from this. Learn from it. And stop ignoring him and avoiding him like you’re a ten year old. Be a grown-up. Act professional and be polite. I will not let this effect the team any longer than it is. Am I understood?”
She swallows thickly and nods. “Yes, sir, Captain Price. I promise.”
Price smiles and pats her again. “Go on. Soap and Gaz headed to Purecraft.”
“But the Lieutenant—”
“Is in the training room working out,” Price waves her off. “Go. Have some fun. Get some drinks, talk to Tweedledee and Tweedledum.”
As she gets up, she pauses and looks at him. “Captain?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
Price’s eyes crinkle around the edges. “You’re welcome, Puffin.”
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hypnos333 · 2 months
Text
My Heavens
Lucifer Morningstar x Ex Wife Reader Gabriel x Wife Reader
Pt 1- left her behind
Synopsis: You moved on and had a kid with another archangel
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You gave birth throughout those centuries to twins, Caelum and Kailani. A boy and girl both have your color hair and eyes but your husband personally a shyness. Also both archangels.
You happily watch them grow with you husband as you both teaches them how to guide people into hopefulness and into following God.
Now they’re one hundred and ninety five years old in age and you are proud of them even though there still kinda of teenagers. You and gabriel were still proud but now with the extermination coming up you had to put your family first no matter the cost.
During the meeting with Charlie Morningstar that’s when you started feeling under the weather making you children go with their father instead of you going sick.
Charlie went up to your daughter mistaking it as you, “Woah Dad was right you are beautiful but you looks so young, Oh Right i’m Charlie you must be ___. My dad has been talking about you nonstop” Charlie rambled making Kailani raise her eyebrows.
“Sorry to burst your bubble but ___ is actually my mother” Kailani stated, “Both of our mother” Caelum add making Charlie look at the twins in shock.
“W-What?” Charlie asks as Vaggie approaches her.
“Yep sweetheart, we’re twins, Shocked? You are the only one that is” Caelum said rolling his eyes the princess stupidness. Kailani slapped her brother on the back of his head before laughing it off.
“Haha ignore my brother, it’s just your the only one who doesn’t noticed our similarities” Kailani said more kindly.
Vaggie pulls a still shock Charlie back to there seats but before they even made it Gabriel landed in front of them. “A-Ah Charlie, Vaggie I see you have met my children, my apologies about them they’re about bit of a hand full like they’re mother” He joked making Charlie gape at him.
“You and ___ had kids???” She questions him trying to get answers for her dad.
“Well of course married and have a new child on the way” Gabriel chuckled making Charlie feel bad about her dad not having this future with his first love.
“Ah I see well congratulations” She faked a smile as she congratulated him and his family.
“Thank you Miss. Morningstar and I hope you have the future you want” Gabriel said before flying away to his children.
After the meeting, Lucifer waited impatiently to hear the news from Charlie.
“What did ya hear Charlie? Did she accept me back to her life?” He asked his daughter hopefully making her looked down before grabbing his hand and slowly putting her wedding ring back into his hand. His smile drop looking at his daughter in fear.
“I’m so sorry dad but she’s married to another archangel named Gabriel and had twins the same age as me with another one on the way” Charlie explained to him.
Lucifer tried to hold into his tears but couldn’t as he sobs falling down to the floor. Charlie hold her dad as he sobs in her shoulder. “I-It’s all my f-fault” He cries out making Charlie console him.
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joelsgreys · 4 months
Text
safe and sound
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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summary: Your daughter has a nightmare—her daddy makes it all better.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. set in Jackson. slight canon age deviations (Joel is 56, Ellie is 17) READER’S AGE IS NOT SPECIFIED. she’s a child bearing adult woman so do with that information what you will. established relationship, reader and Joel have a toddler (her age is not specified in fic but she’s 3 ish years old), reader has NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION and neither does their child except she has Joel’s eyes and his dark curls, no mentions of her skintone. Joel and Ellie are fine bc he deserves it, Joel’s an overprotective girl dad, reader is the chill parent. implications of a toddler being told about clickers, bad dreams, almost smut, Joel and reader get cockblocked, SOFT Joel who comforts his babygirl, mention of Sarah towards the end. very minimal editing.
word count: 2.3k
a/n: listen, i love me some daddy joel but tonight i needed a bit of actual daddy joel. this was whipped up last minute bc i haven’t had the best weekend and needed some comfort. also i didn’t have the mental capacity or energy to come up with a moodboard, so gif it is.
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Joel looks down at the old, worn book in his hand.
Winnie the Pooh.
He never would have imagined it. This.
Reading a bedtime story to a toddler. His toddler.
He’s in his fifties—he shouldn’t have a toddler.
He shouldn’t have a teenager, either.
Yet, he has both.
The toddler has his blood, the teenager doesn’t.
But that doesn’t matter to him.
Joel still considers her to be his own kid.
Only, she’s not a kid anymore, not really.
She’s seventeen now. She doesn’t need him much anymore, not the way that his toddler needs him.
“Ellie’s not coming home tonight,” you’d said from where you stood at the stove, stirring in chunks of potato and chopped carrots into the pot of stew in front of you. “There’s a birthday party down at the bar. She’s going with Dina and Jesse.” You can feel the look of disapproval on his face and add, “I said she could go, Joel. She asked me permission.”
“She didn’t ask me,” he’d gruffed. He looked down at the little girl sitting in his lap, scribbling away on an old state map. He had given it to her along with the pack of crayons he’d found during patrol when his group stumbled across a schoolhouse. Though crumbling on the outside, the inside had remained untouched throughout the last two decades—little coats hanging over the back of little chairs, papers scattered all over little desks, little lunch boxes still stored in their cubbies at the back of the room. He instructed the group to search for anything useful, anything that Jackson’s teachers could use for the children in their classrooms. Joel knew that taking without trading was against the rules, but that did nothing to stop him from secretly slipping the box of crayons into his jacket pocket when no one had been looking.
His daughter’s squeals of delight when he’d gifted them to her had been well worth the theft.
“Because she knew you’d say no to her.”
“I would have. Kid’s got no business going to a bar at her age. She’s fuckin’ seventeen years ol—”
The little girl had gasped and stopped coloring.
“Daddy said a bad word.”
You’d turned around and glared at him. “He did.”
She looked up at him with her wide, brown eyes.
Those she’d gotten from him. His dark curls too.
Everything else?
Her smile, her nose, her softness?
That was all you.
“M’sorry, babygirl,” he apologized, sheepishly.
“S’okay, daddy.”
And back to coloring she went.
“Joel, let’s face it. Ellie’s growing up. She’s turning eighteen in a few months and truth is, she has one foot out the door.” Crossing your arms, you leaned back against the counter. “She was telling me how she wants to turn the garage into her own space.”
“There a reason she ain’t talkin’ to me ‘bout this?”
You’d smiled wistfully at him.
“Because she knows this is hard for you, Joel.”
It is hard. Because even though she isn’t his, she’s his and he’s afraid to lose her somehow.
Joel manages to snap himself out of his thoughts.
Rosemary’s now fast asleep, her well loved stuffed bunny rabbit wrapped in her arms. She’s a handful for him during bedtime—she has too much energy and most nights, you have to step in and help him. But tonight, after her bath, he had warmed a glass of milk for her to drink and it seemed to have done the trick because within minutes of him reading to her, her eyes fluttered closed.
Joel sets the book down and leans over to brush a kiss onto her cheek, quietly whispering goodnight. “Sweet dreams, babygirl.”
He switches off the lamp on the bedside table and steps out of his child’s bedroom, being careful not to wake her as he closes the door behind him.
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“I still can’t believe she fell asleep within minutes,” you say, staring at him in utter disbelief. “How?”
“Gave her a glass of warm milk before I tucked her into bed,” Joel explains, tugging on a pair of faded black sweatpants. He peels off his shirt and tosses it onto the floor before climbing into bed. “Worked like a fuckin’ charm. She’s out like a damn light.”
You set your book down and raise an eyebrow.
“Joel, I brushed her teeth before her bath.”
“I brushed them again after she drank it, darlin’.”
He outstretches his arm, beckoning for you.
Grinning, you scoot closer to him, draping an arm over his bare chest. “It’s only nine,” you tell him. “I have no idea what we’re going to do with all of this free time we have. Rosemary’s asleep, Ellie’s gone for the night.” You slowly drag your hand down his chest and over his stomach, a finger skimming the waistband of his sweatpants. You hear the way his breath catches in his throat and tease, “I guess we can actually get some good sleep for once, huh?”
Groaning, Joel rolls over and pins you down to the bed as he positions himself on top of you, his eyes glazed over with lust. “We can sleep,” he murmurs as his mouth hovers over yours. He reaches for the buttons of his flannel you’re wearing and begins to single-handedly pop them open only to find you’re not wearing anything underneath. He groans once more. “Or I can make you feel good. S’your choice, baby.”
You gasp as he nips at your chin and starts trailing his lips lower, peppering kisses down the length of your body. Heat blossoms in your lower belly as he settles himself between your thighs. Hooking both arms around them, he nibbles at the soft spot that is right below your navel, the spot you hate, but he adores. Having a child had changed your body and while you two seldom had time to yourselves to do anything of this nature, when you did find time, he never failed to make you feel like you were still just as beautiful to him, if not a thousand times more.
“Fuck,” you whimper. “Please, Joel.”
“Please what, sweetheart? What do you want?”
His voice is low, husky.
Your hands reach down and tangle in his curls.
“Your mouth, Joel. Please. I need your—”
The sound of a teeny knock at the door makes you both freeze on the spot.
“You heard that, right?” you ask him breathlessly.
There’s a second teeny knock.
It’s then followed by an even teenier voice.
“Mommy? Daddy?”
“Fuck,” Joel hisses, scrambling off the bed. “What the hell is she doin’ out of bed?” Picking his t-shirt up from the floor, he quickly throws it on, ignoring that he’d put it on inside out. Watching you as you fumble to button his flannel, he calls, “Just give us one second babygirl, alright? We’ll be right there.”
“I’m decent,” you tell him, getting the last button.
Nodding, Joel opens the bedroom door. His knees protest when he squats down, lowering himself so that he can meet Rosemary’s tearful gaze.
“S’matter, Rosie Posie?” he asks her in a soft voice that he reserves for his girls. “What happened?”
She sniffles. “I—I had a bad dream, daddy.”
You sit on the side of bed and wait patiently.
Joel has it handled. He always has it handled.
He never stopped knowing how to be a father.
“You had a bad dream?” he repeats, frowning.
Rosemary nods, clutching her rabbit to her chest.
A single tear slips down the side of her little face.
Joel reaches out, gingerly wiping it with his finger.
“M’sorry it scared you, babygirl. Tell you what, just for tonight, how about you sleep with me and your mama in our bed? That sound good?” With a small labored grunt, he scoops her into his arms. She is getting heavier and you often tell him it’s not good for his back—he can’t care less. He’ll keep picking her up until the moment his little girl decides she’s a big girl and doesn’t want him to pick her up. Joel carries her over to the bed and sits her on your lap and reminds her, “But this is just for tonight, Rosie Posie. Tomorrow night you’re back in your own big girl bed, alright?”
“Okay,” she nods again and leans against you, tiny shoulders slumping.
“Rosie? What was your dream about?” you ask her gently, wrapping your arms around her. She hardly ever has nightmares—she’s too young to know the world outside the commune’s walls, smart but still too little to understand why she cannot go outside the gates. “What did you dream about, honey?”
She hesitates, then answers, “Monsters.”
“Monsters?” Perplexed, you glance at Joel.
He seems to be just as confused as you are.
“Who did you hear that word from, babygirl?”
“Robbie.”
Your neighbor’s unruly, troublemaker son.
Joel’s jaw clenches slightly. “Thought I told you he ain’t allowed to be around her. The kid is nine, ain’t got no business bein’ around Rosemary. Little brat ain’t nothin’ but a bad influence. He’s always up to no good.” He shakes his head at you. “Said I didn’t want that boy anywhere near our daughter.”
“The kids were out playing in the snow today,” you remember. “He must have been there too. It’s kind of hard to tell who is who when they’re all bundled up and flinging snowballs at each other, Joel.” You shoot him an apologetic look. “Rosie was having a blast playing with everybody—I’m sorry. I suppose I should’ve paid more attention to who was around her.”
He bites back a sigh. He knows it’s not your fault.
Rosie’s too good of a girl, too pure and innocent to know that not everybody is her friend.
“Rosie, what did Robbie say to you?”
Again, the child hesitates.
“He said—he said monsters live outside. They bite people and turn them into monsters too. He said it happened to his daddy.” Rosemary’s eyes flit from you to Joel. “He said it would happen to you, too.”
Your eyes widen in shock. “He said that to you?”
Hands curling into fists, Joel reminds himself now isn’t the time to let his anger take over. “S’not true at all, babygirl.” He reaches over and slides her out of your lap and onto his. Like you, he wants to lie—tell her those monsters she was told about are not real, that they don’t exist. But they do exist and as much as he wishes he could keep her from finding out about all that lies beyond Jackson’s walls, Joel knows that one day, she will. “Listen to me. M’real sorry to hear ‘bout Robbie’s daddy, baby. But I can promise you, that ain’t gonna happen to me.”
She points a chubby finger at you.
“What about mommy?”
“Ain’t gonna happen to her either.”
Rosemary drops her hand, fear clear in her tone as she asks the both of you, “What about me?”
“Of course not,” you say, smoothing back her dark curls. “You’re safe here, honey. As safe as can be.”
Joel nods. “Your mama’s right, darlin’. You’re safe,” he reassured her. “You’re safe and sound.”
“I am?”
He gives her body a warm, gentle squeeze. “Mhm. Always will be. Y’know how I know that, babygirl?”
“How?”
“‘Cause. As long as daddy’s around, he will always protect you,” he promises her. “He’ll never, ever let anythin’ bad happen to you, Rosie. I swear it.” Joel kisses the top of her head, his gaze meeting yours. He murmurs his oath quietly, “On my life.”
Flashing him a small, grateful smile, you reach out and touch his forearm and he places his hand over your own.
“And mommy too?” Rosemary questions him.
“And mommy too.”
“And Ellie?”
“And Ellie,” he nods, firmly. “M’always gonna keep my girls safe. S’long as I’m around, you’re all safe.”
Rosie tiredly snuggles into his chest, yawning.
“What about you, daddy?”
“Huh?”
You squeeze his arm. “Think she’s asking you who is supposed to keep you safe, Joel.”
The little girl nods sleepily. “Yeah. Who?”
“Well.” Joel’s throat bobs nervously. He knows the moment he says what he’s about to say, there’s no going back. Not that he never planned to tell Rosie about her sister, but he’d always imagined doing it when she was older and understood death. “I—uh, I have an angel in the clouds who looks out for me. She watches over me, keeps me safe and sound.”
Rosemary’s curiosity is all that is keeping her from completely passing out in his arms.
“Really? You have an angel?”
Your heart squeezes tightly in your chest. “Joel—”
He lightly shakes his head.
“S’fine sweetheart. I don’t mind tellin’ her.”
Rosie’s fighting to stay awake just a little longer.
“Daddy? What’s your angel’s name?”
Joel answers in the steadiest voice he can muster.
“Her name was—her name is Sarah.”
“Sarah,” she mumbles, her eyes closing. “S’pretty. Your angel has a really pretty name.”
“The prettiest name,” you agree, softly.
Rosie yawns again. “Daddy?”
“What is it, babygirl?”
“Will you tell me stories about Sarah? Please?”
Joel chuckles, rubbing her back. “I sure will. I have plenty of them to tell, Rosie Posie. But not tonight. I’ll save them for tomorrow ni—”
You cut him off “Joel?”
“Yeah?”
“She’s out cold.”
He glances down and sure enough, she’s asleep.
Moments later, the three of you are in bed. Rosie’s in the middle, curled up against Joel’s chest—your chest is pressed against her back but you’re being careful not to sandwich her in too tight in between your bodies.
In a beam of silvery moonlight shining through the bedroom window, you meet Joel’s gaze.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
He chuckles. “For what? Doin’ my job and soothin’ our daughter after a bad dream?”
You smile at him.
“For being so good to her. To me and Ellie.” Lifting a hand, you reach over and cup the side of his face in your palm. “You’re so good to all three of us and I can’t even imagine what we’d do without you.”
Joel turns his face, brushing a kiss into your hand.
“I mean it,” he says, quietly. “S’long as I’m around, you girls will always be safe and sound.”
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credit divider @saradika-graphics
2K notes · View notes
snowy-vee · 1 month
Text
ALL MINE Pt.1 (E.W ff)
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oblivious loser bsf! ellie williams x posesive popular bsf!fem reader
n/a: English is not my first language, any misspelling will be corrected later on, also, please feel free to leave a comment and rb!!
Pt.2 Here
Inform yourself about what's happening and how to help! FREE PALESTINE, FREE CONGO.
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“Bye, girls!” you waved to the cheer team before getting into Ellie’s car, greeting her with a small ‘hi’ and a kiss on her cheek. “Why weren’t you at cheer practice? I missed you looking at me from the bleachers like a little stalker,” you giggle, grabbing her phone to put music to your liking.
“I don’t look like a stalker... Do I? I don't,” she said quietly, and you laughed again. “Anyway, I was doing a project, and I didn’t notice how late it was until you called me to pick you up.”
She started the car and began to drive home. You were both roommates in an off-campus flat, and since Ellie was the only one with a licence, it was common for her to drive you everywhere and pick you up.
You kept looking for a good playlist while ‘Too Fast’ by Sonder was playing when a notification came in. You blinked twice, thinking you might have seen something wrong, but the message from Dina saying she had a good time was still there.
“Dina was your partner for the project?”
“Yes, why? She is very nice; I wonder why I’ve never spoken to her; she’s got a good vibe.”
“Yeah, but isn’t she kind of a loser? I mean, the only interesting thing about her is that she dated Jesse.” You scoffed. The ugly look she gave you after that was enough to make you stop laughing. “I don’t mean it in a bad way! Just saying that you might not want to hang out with her that much.”
“I am a loser too; shouldn’t I be hanging out with my kind of people?”
“You’re not a loser! You just have different interests than the rest of our friends—"
“Your friends"
"My friends, whatever, you hang out with me; that gives you some status and makes you not a total loser but a partial one.”
Ellie rolled her eyes as she parked the car, grabbed her backpack from the back seat, and got out without opening your door, as she usually does. You opened your mouth a little offended and got out too.
“Els! Come on, don’t get angry. I’ll cook dinner, yeah?” You tried to apologise, but she had already locked herself in her room. You snorted, throwing your bag on your bed and then throwing yourself off too.
You and Ellie had been best friends since middle school. You came in as the new girl and soon caught the attention of many, but Ellie was the only one who made you feel comfortable in every way. You were always together and inseparable until high school, when you decided to become a cheerleader, and that’s when the distinction between you and Ellie began.
Although you tried to make time for her or integrate her into the “Populars” group, it didn’t work out, and it was obvious that it made both parties uncomfortable, so the only times you shared space together were at parties or break time. Ellie had friends, not counting the online ones, but for her, they were more like classmates, so she barely spent time with them.
It doesn’t matter; you were going to sleep and apologise in the morning—that is, until, coming out of the bathroom after taking a good shower and changing into your pyjamas, you heard giggles and voices from Ellie’s room.
Was she laughing with Dina? How was it possible that they were already at the level of making video calls? Was there something else she wasn’t telling you? No, you were best friends; you told each other everything.
“Els, I’m going to make instant ramen; do you want the chicken one or?” You opened the door without knocking first to confirm your suspicions, and yes, it was Dina on the other side of the phone. You could see her face and how her smile slowly faded. “Oh, hi, Dina.”
"Hi,” she said softly. “Well, I’m going to have dinner too; talk to you later, Ellie.”
“Yeah, okay, bye, Dina." Ellie smiled, hanging up. She woke up from her bed and nodded in your direction. “I want chicken ramen; I’ll go shower real quick.”
She was still annoyed with you; you could feel it, so that meant you had to apologise tonight.
Your cooking skills were not the best; it was strange that you touched the stove burners, mostly because Ellie did. Talking about the Queen of Rome, there she was standing in her black pyjama pants and sports bra. She was drying her short hair as she watched you cook.  
"Can I help you with something?" She asked, but you refused. You were almost done; you just needed to put the food on the plates. You left the dishes on the table in the living room. "Actually, I was planning to eat in my room today."  
"Ellie, please... I'm sorry, I shouldn't talk like that about your  friends." You started apologising by grabbing her hand and leading her to the couch. "Forgive me, yes? I hate that we're upset about something so small."  
"Ugh, I hate that I can't be mad at you for too long." You squealed with excitement, and before you knew it, you both had finished eating and were now sharing a blanket on the couch while watching a movie.   Your head was resting on her shoulder, and although it was a comfortable position, it got on your nerves that Ellie was on her phone, sending messages and giggling from time to time. It was driving you crazy.
You cleared your throat as you got off the couch. "I'm going to sleep; tomorrow will be a busy day," you said.  
"But the movie isn't over yet," Ellie protested, looking at you with those beautiful eyes of hers. For a moment, you were about to stay, but Ding! Another notification caused her to divert your attention to her phone again.  
"No, I don't want dark circles under my eyes."  
"Wait, one thing..."  
"What?"  
"Tomorrow, where was that party?" you frowned at her question, confused that she's asking about a party.  
"Uh... at the same frat house where we went for the Halloween party, why?"  
"Yes, but can you send me the address?"  
"Yes, but why? You said you didn't want to come, remember?"  
"I know, but you're going to drag me anyway, and Dina said she wanted to come, so I won't be alone."  
"You're never alone; I'm with you," you replied. Ellie raised an eyebrow as she looked at you. "Most of the time, I'm with you, Ellie!"  
"I know! I appreciate it, but... I think I want to get to know Dina more, if you know what I mean." Her cheeks began to redden, and she had a shy smile as she looked at her phone.   That made your stomach churn.
You nodded and couldn't help but let out an incredulous chuckle that went unnoticed by her. "I'll send you the location tomorrow, Els."  
"Great, you're the best; I love you."  
"Me too, get a good night's rest," you said, walking down the hallway to your room. You looked once more at Ellie before entering, still hooked on her phone.   You definitely had to get rid of Dina.  
You didn't have a problem with sharing other things, but Ellie? No way; she was yours, all yours.
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