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fanficbarbie · 7 months

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❝baby, i'm the sweetest.❞

read the rest of the series before this chapter or you’re getting spoilers.

A/N: i just got through midterms so sorry this chapter took so long. enjoy this chapter of interactions between the delicious trio. this also isn't edited so ignore any mistakes. enjoy ★ ˙ᵕ˙ liv

Chapter Summary: ellie gets into a fight at school and calls the sweetest baker for help.

Chapter Warnings: fighting, bruising, language, alcohol, slight age gap (F!MC and Joel are 6 years apart), threatening (brief), arguing (brief), symptoms of anxiety and depression.

Key Tags: chef! Joel, single! father Joel, no outbreak! Joel Miller, slow burn, dual-pov, fluff, flirting, friendship, eventually established relationship, eventual smut, original character, black!fem!MC, no y/n.

⋆ word count: 4.7k ⋆

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist, joel masterlist ⋆ spotify playlist ˖ ݁ 𖥔.

For the next three weeks, I had fallen into a routine of seeing Joel every day at 10 p.m. when he’d come over to cook dinner and pick Ellie up from my house. Although I love baking, I detest cooking. Maybe it’s my sweet tooth, but I’m grateful that Joel has taken over that role in my life. If it weren’t for him I’d be eating takeout every day.

I’d lay awake every night and think about the details of his face. His salt and pepper facial hair, his rough hands, the burns on his forearms. My thoughts swirled with Joel as I tossed and turned in bed. I’d repeat the same words to myself over and over again until my face turned blue.

We’re just friends, Ginny. He doesn’t want you that way.

As the owner, I rarely take days off work from Daylight. But, on days like today, my body informs me that I’ve reached the end of my rope. Burnout.

The rain falls softly outside against the window and I moan at the feeling of the cool glass on my temple. My eyes dart down to the bustling city, hoping to have my mind on anything but this recipe for a while.

Suddenly my phone starts ringing, sending me jolting upright. My hands feel in the blankets for the slender device. Once I find it, I don’t check the caller ID before picking it up.

“Hello?” I say into the receiver.

I hear a voice on the other side clear their throat. “Hi, is this Ginny?” I hear a fake sweet voice come through the speaker.

My face screws when I try to pin the voice down to a person. “Ellie?” I question the other person on the line.

I hear a loud sigh, simulating the wind blowing in my ear. “Yeah. Thank fuck you answered,” she counts her blessings.

Taking the phone away from my screen, I look at the random numbers I’m familiar with. “Why are you calling me from the Principal’s office?” I ask her.

Ellie shuffles and I hear the office chair beneath her squeak. “About that…” she starts.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I close my eyes. “Cut to the chase,” I rush her so I can get back to my day of relaxing.

I hear Ellie inhale a sharp draw of breath. “Joel is super busy because he has a fucking tasting event going on right now. This is gonna sound crazy so first you have to say no and then you have to say yes,” she rambles quickly.

My eyes roll as I stand from the comfort of my window seat. “Land the fucking plane, El,” I goan.

There’s a momentary pause where I think I’m going to reach through the phone and strangle Joel’s crotch child if she delays any longer. “I got in a fight and I need you to pretend to be my mom or something so you can pick me up from school,” she explains.

My jaw drops as soon as I register the words. “You what? Argh, Ellie,” I complain. I love the kid but I have boundaries, and this is not how I wanted to spend my day off.

“Please, Ginny? Please? Please? Please?” she begs and I shake my head.

My feet shuffle up the steps to my bedroom so I can change into more acceptable clothing. “Fine, but only because I don’t want to think about apple pie for a little while,” I conceded, trying to figure out how long it would take me to get to Jackson High.

My hands push on the bar into the office. Crinkling my nose at the LED lights above me, I walk up to the person at the desk. “Hi. I’m Imogen Miller. I’m here to pick up my daughter, Ellie Williams,” I introduce myself, lying a bit. I can’t fight the feeling that Joel’s last name sounds good with my first.

The woman in front of me raises an eyebrow at me. “Oh,” she says almost in disgust, looking me up and down. Fucking cunt. “Let me go get her from in-school suspension,” she grumbles, taking her leave.

Fuck you you fucking bitch. “Yeah, you do that,” I snip lowly at her.

I pace around the room, anxiously waiting to see the brunette girl walk through the door. Fuck, I will burn down this whole school if she has so much as a cut on her lip. “So you’re Ellie’s mom,” I hear a curious voice come from behind me.

When I turn around, an older lady is standing with her daughter. The kid can’t be much older than Ellie and she’s covered in stitches. “And you are?” I ask with attitude. After being in this school for 10 minutes I don’t want to interact with another person for the rest of the weekend.

She crosses her arms and purses her lips at me. “The mom of the girl your daughter attacked,” she accuses Ellie.

My first ball so tightly, I think I might draw blood. You can’t fight a mom in a school, Imogen. You’re an adult. “My daughter wouldn’t attack anyone,” I defend Ellie, though I know nothing about the fight.

I will always defend the ones I love in public, then scold them later about the situation. And that’s exactly how I plan to handle this situation.

“Are you kidding me? Look at her face?” The blonde woman hisses.

My eyes roam up and down her daughter’s body. The kid is as tall as me and Ellie only comes up to my chest. “I’m more so looking at her stature. You let a little girl do all that?” I taunt gesturing towards her face.

The blonde rolls her eyes. “It’s obvious we’re not going to get anywhere. Your kid is just as crazy as you,” she scoffs.

My blood boils and I can feel the steam coming from my ears. “Again, my kid. Who I will choose how to discipline. Now you have a nice day,” I finish her.

She sticks her nose up as high in the air as it’ll go, turning around.

Shaking my head, I decide it’s probably best to find a water fountain as soon as possible so I can cool down. Just as I come up for air from the short fountain, another person approaches me. “Hi, are you Ellie’s mom?” the tall black man asks.

I shift putting one hand on my hip. “Yes. What is it now?” I dig at him.

The man’s cheeks fill with a soft plum color. “Nothing, Mrs. Miller. I’m Mr. Henry, the freshman art teacher,” he introduces himself with a hand extended. “Nice to meet you,” he

My eyes widen and my skin boils with embarrassment. “Oh, I’m sorry. I met a rude parent. She still has my head frazzled. It’s nice to meet you too,” I politely shake his hand.

He pivots to stand next to me as I start walking down the hall. “Your daughter is quite the artist,” he compliments Ellie.

A smile covers my face thinking about how others see the brilliant girl. “Thank you,” I murmur.

“Must run in the family. What do you do?” He asks.

“Oh, I– Ellie’s not,” I babble, pausing to clear my throat. Get it together and play your role, Imogen. “I’m a baker,” I answer confidently.

Mr. Henry nods, pausing by the door of the office. “Wow. A baker for a mom and a chef for a dad. She must have the best school lunches,” he ponders.

I shrug, reaching for the door handle. “Something like that. Although Joel has a bias against too many sweet treats,” I joke, stepping into the office.

Mr. Henry smiles, holding the door open for me. “I could see that,” he murmurs.

Across the room, the opposite set of double doors open. Ellie strolls in behind the office assistant. “Here she is. You can go ahead and sign her out for me,” the assistant instructs me.

“It was nice meeting you,” Mr. Henry offers a smile before turning towards Joel’s daughter. “Try to stay out of trouble, Ellie,” he advises.

Ellie’s hand goes up and she gives a small wave. “Bye, Mr. Henry. See you Monday,” she bids him a goodbye.

Once my signature is on the paper, I don’t bother waiting for the ink to dry. I’m nearly ready to drag Ellie out of here. “Done. Let’s go, El,” I announce, slamming the pen down on the desk.

Ellie looks up at me, practically bouncing with excitement when I wrap my fingers around her arm, pulling her out of the office. As soon as we make it outside, I bring us to a screeching halt. “The fuck happened to your eye? Was it that cunt’s daughter? I will fuck both of them up, Ellie. I swear to god,” I rant, patting her body for any more signs of damage.

Ellie grabs my wrists to stop me. “Dude, calm down. I handled it. She had to get 15 stitches,” Ellie boasts proudly.

Instead of checking for bruises, my hands smooth out her school uniform. “That’s fuckin right. I ain't raise no bitch,” I grumble.

Ellie sighs while I fix her sweater. “Um, Ginny. You didn’t raise me at all,” she points out with a raised eyebrow.

A flush creeps onto my face as I realize my mistake. Ellie’s not my kid. “You’re right. Don’t tell Joel I said that,” I beg her to cut me some slack.

After all, it’s the least she can do for me. I did pick her up from school. “Actually, don’t tell Joel about any of this shit,” I clarify with fear that Joel will be angry with Ellie.

We begin to walk towards my tiny Volkswagen Bug. Ellie throws her head back in frustration. “Ugh, what am I gonna do? He’s going to notice my eye,” she groans.

I click the unlock button on the key. “What happened?” I ask.

Ellie’s head turns back towards the school. “That cunt, Bethany, wouldn’t leave me alone,” she says as though she’s waiting on Bethany to come after her.

I put my hand on the top of her head, turning her head back towards me. “And what did she say?” I ask.

Ellie shrugs and she stops to kick some dirt on the path. “I don’t know,” she lies, head hanging low.

Once we reach the car, I move my hands to her shoulders. “El, you do know,” I reiterate so she knows I’m serious.

Ellie nods, and her eyes dart towards the ground. “I know…. She wouldn’t stop telling me I was a pussy and I couldn't handle shit myself. I told her I didn't want to fight but she shoved me,” she explains.

My hand yanks on the handle of the passenger side. “That’s good enough for me. You were defending yourself from a bully. I’m sure your dad will see it the same way,” I say to Ellie as she slides into the seat.

Once we’re both in the car, I pull up the McDonalds app on my phone. “Now, it’s free fries Friday. Shall we?” I ask, starting the ignition.

I hear Ellie click her seatbelt before shifting towards me. “We shall,” she responds with a slight small.

I shift the gear into drive. “That’s fucking right. I knew you were my kid,” I cheer, pulling off onto the main road.

Ellie lays in my bed, cuddled up with a Grogu stuffie around 10 pm that night. The light from the TV in my room fills the room and the noise of medical machines beeping layers perfectly with Ellie’s snores. We haven’t left the bed since we got back from Jackson High. As soon as we got back, we immediately turned on Grey’s Anatomy and gorged on snacks.

Now hours later, my phone buzzes repeatedly and my head snaps over, hoping it won’t wake the traumatized child up. I quickly crawl to the end of the bed, swiping my phone up from the ground before lowering my feet to the floor. I quickly scurry across the room to my on-suite bathroom, sliding the door closed.

A picture of me and Joel on Halloween covers the screen and I smile a bit. He’s just here to pick up his daughter, Imogen. Not to see you.

My finger presses the green button, and I bring the phone up to my head. “Hey,” I say lowly.

“Sugar, I’m outside your back door,” Joel's husky voice dances on my ear drums.

My feet tip-toe across the tile to the window that faces the back. Pulling the curtain to the side, I look down at where Joel is standing with a wine bottle in his hand. He’s patiently waiting for me or Ellie to open the door. “Spare key is under the mat,” I direct him.

He shifts a bit and tucks the bottle under his arm. “You’re jokin',” he sighs.

My head shakes and then I realize, he can’t see me. “No. I don’t feel like coming down 3 flights of steps so, let yourself in,” I tell him.

He groans, before reaching down to lift the mat. He picks up the pink sparkly key, holding it in the air before shaking his head. “That’s not what I meant but I’ll be up in a second,” he grumbles, sticking the key into the door.

“Sounds good, we’re in my room,” I inform him before clicking the red button on the screen.

A minute or two passes and I turn to my side, checking to make sure Ellie’s still asleep. Her brows furrow in her sleep and I gnaw on my lip watching her struggle, even in her dreams.

Joel’s footsteps slowly make their way closer to my room and I see his shadowy figure slowly push the door open. He pokes his head in, surveying the room when his eyes land on mine. “Hi,” he greets me with a small smile.

Dear god, he’s going to give me a heart attack. He’s so fucking cute and I find myself lighting up when I see him. A smile creeps onto my face when Joel steps into the room. “Hi,” I whisper before looking back down at Ellie.

“How long's she been out?” I hear Joel ask.

“Only 30 minutes,” I huff out.

My eyes find Joel’s again as he sets the bottle of wine down on my mantel. “Damn it. She’s gonna be mad when I wake her,” he foretells.

My eyes roam up and down his body, savoring how good he looks in the moonlight. His hair has grown a bit longer since Halloween, curling up slightly at the ends. “Maybe she should stay tonight,” I suggest.

Joel shrugs his jacket off, hanging it on a wall hook. “Why?” he asks.

“Come. Sit,” I demand, patting the empty spot at the end of the bed.

Joel kicks his shoes off by his jacket before sauntering over. He lowers his body awkwardly onto the edge of the bed with clasped hands. My hand reaches out towards him and he takes it, allowing me to pull him closer to me.

The warmth of his hands has me reluctant to let go. “Don’t freak out,” I preface once he’s close enough.

His eyes observe my face, and I assume he’s looking for any sign of emotion. “Darlin’, whenever you start a sentence like that I lose my shit,”

“Well, don't,” I command him before my hands slowly move to Ellie’s hoodie. She’s lying on her side with her back facing the both of us, so Joel can’t see her bruised face. I grab the edge of the fabric, pulling it back just enough to reveal the purple circle on her face.

Joel sucks air in through his teeth and his upper body tenses. He leans over a bit more to get a better look at the black eye, dramatically dipping the bed. Ellie seemingly senses this and her body shifts to face us.

Neither I nor Joel take a breath, waiting to see if Ellie’s going to wake up. She lets out a small grunt and her eyes flutter open. “Joel?” she whispers, squinting up at him.

Joel pulls the blanket up, tucking her in. “It’s okay, baby girl. You can go back to sleep,” he reassures her.

“Mmmm okay,” Ellie sighs, snuggling into the pink silk.

I slide towards the end of the mattress, grab Joel's wrist, and pull him into the ensuite bathroom. As soon as the door is closed, I turn around to face him.

The first thing I notice is the prominent scowl on his face and his tense shoulders. “The hell happened to her face?” he grits.

My nose scrunches with disdain. “Don’t fucking snap at me, Joel,” I whisper yell at him.

He crosses the room, trapping me in between the counter and his body with nowhere to move. There’s nowhere for me to move and even if I wanted to, I’m frozen in place. “Fuck. I’m sorry, sugar,” he apologizes, putting his hands on my hips.

His fingers slightly slide under my shirt and I shiver before he lays his full palms on my waist. His eyes flutter closed and he leans closer to me, resting his forehead on mine.

He hums and I know this is just platonic. He doesn’t want you Imogen, he’s just trying to ground himself. “She called me to pick her up around 11. Said the girl was an antagonistic bully. She shoved Ellie and called her a pussy,” I ramble while Joel’s thumbs trace a comforting pattern onto my skin.

He sighs and his eyes stay closed. “Ginny,” he says lowly.

“and Ellie rightfully beat her ass. I’m just saying to go easy on her for the next few days. Bitches are mean and I would’ve fought at 14 too if that cunt stepped to me like that. Did you teach her how to fight? Because she wiped the floor with that girl,” I continue, getting irritated about the situation all over again.

Joel opens his eyes, leaning back a bit. “Ginny,” he repeats.

“Oh, the school probably called you already. If they say I cussed out a parent, they’re fucking liars,” my nostrils flare, but Joel’s no fool. He probably already knows the truth.

My eyes search Joel’s face for any type of reaction before I continue. His face is entirely blank, confusing me more. “Gin—“

“What Joel?” I annoyingly cut him off.

He clears his throat, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. “Thank you,” he says calmly.

I chuckle, shaking my head. “You don’t have to thank me,” I tell him, looking away.

Dejavu clouds my brain when Joel bends his knees, forcing me to look at him. “I do. Ellie’s not your responsibility and she shouldn’t have called you. She should’ve called me,” he reiterates and I try not to get lost in his chocolate irises.

My head nods and I lick my lips, still salty with chip remnants. “Yes but Joel, I would much rather her call me than not say anything at all. What if she got arrested or worse? At least she’s safe. A win is a fucking win,” I argue.

He nods, scratching his eyebrow. “She talk to you after?” he asks.

“Mmhm,” I answer.

“How was she?” he follows up.

I shift to lean on my other leg. “Quiet. Usually, the first thing she does when she sees me is regurgitate one of your dad jokes, but she’s barely said a word since we got back,” I note.

“Damn it,” Joel swears, pacing around the large bathroom. “Damn it,” he grits a little louder.

He runs his hands through his hair, slightly tugging at the roots. “What should I do?” he asks, voice laced with concern.

I gnaw on my lip faced once again with the fear of telling Joel how to parent. He stops pacing, waiting for me to answer. “Joel, I don’t know,” I sigh, quite frankly stressed the fuck out.

He shakes his head and lets out a client grunt. “You do. You’re just bitin' your tongue because you don’t want to step on my toes,” he speaks with his hands.

I step forward, grabbing his hands to try and soothe him. His calloused palms feel rough against my smooth moisturized ones. “Just be there for her and love her. Just keep loving her Joel,” I advise.

He adjusts our palms so his hands are on the outside. “Okay. Thank you, again,” he grunts.

The silence between us is comfortable, but Joel’s blinking is slow. “You look tired. Go lay down next to Ellie while I make my bed in the spare room,” I instruct him, pulling him towards the door.

His feet drag on the tile beneath us. “I can help you,” he offers.

I release one of his hands, sliding the door open. “You can help me by making me breakfast in the morning. I’m sleepy too,” I bargain, hoping he’ll make some bacon.

“Okay,” Joel whispers as we leave the bathroom. I part ways with him, heading down the hall to make up the extra bed for him. It only takes a few minutes and when I get back to my room, I catch a glimpse of Joel lying horizontally over my footboard.

As I come closer, I see both he and Ellie are asleep. He’s on top of the covers, having shed his jeans, holding Ellie’s feet through the duvet.

I shake my head, too tired to bother waking him. He grumbles as I slide into the warmth of the bed and I roll my eyes. I didn’t expect to share my bed with one human tonight, let alone two.

I pull the covers up, careful not to kick Joel in the face as I situate myself. Like magic, my eyes close and I’m asleep within minutes.

As soon as I can form a thought, I feel a chill hit my feet. I instantly swipe them around the sheets, searching for my electric blanket. My legs intertwine a warm item and I attempt to hide my face behind Ellie’s body.

A few moments pass and I hear snickers in the room. “Go back to sleep, sugar,” I hear the man’s voice say and I try my best to ignore it.

I groan, melting further into the warm body next to me. It’s far too early to be thinking about anything but more sleep. “Shut up, then,” I mumble.

This time the laugh is loud and deep, and it comes from underneath me. The realization that I’m curled into Joel right now sends panic up my ass.

My eyes open wide and I shoot up into a sitting position, scrambling back away from Joel. Joel reaches out to grab me but I underestimate how big my bed is when I’m suddenly tumbling backwards on the floor.

My body connects with the ground with a loud thud. “Oooo,” I hear Ellie groan.

Joel peers over the edge of the mattress. “You alright?” he checks, voice laced with concern.

My hand pushes his out of the way. “I’m fine. Just got spooked. Not used to people being here is all,” I partially lie.

The problem isn’t with them staying here, it’s my feelings for Joel. “Sorry we scared you darlin’,” Joel apologizes.

Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I stand from the floor. “It’s okay. Shit. What time is it?” I ask the two sitting on top of my bed.

Ellie shovels another forkful of pancakes into her mouth. “11:30,” she mumbles through chewing.

My eyes go wide and I feel an oncoming spiral approaching. My chest gets tight as the panic sets in. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I swear, looking for my phone under the 5 layers of blankets. “The bakery opened 3 hours ago,” I tell them, patting the top of the covers to find my phone.

Joel grabs my wrist, ceasing any movement I’m making. “Relax. I checked with Grace. They’re doin' fine,” he reports with a small smile.

The gaze lingers between us for a moment too long causing a sizzling feeling to linger in the air. Joel looks down at where we connect, quickly pulling his hand back. “Ginny, come on. Joel made breakfast,” Ellie beams before popping a crispy slice of bacon in her mouth.

I rub my eyes, trying to get out any crust that might be in them. “You did?” I ask.

Joel nods and I admire his bedhead. “Least I could do, sugar,” he says nonchalantly.

Ellie stands from the bed, holding her empty plate in her hands. I follow after her, excited to soothe my rumbling stomach.

Once we’re in the kitchen, I’m hit with the realization that I hate cooking. There hasn’t been food in my house since last Thanksgiving. “Where did you get the bacon?” I ask Joel over my shoulder.

“Stopped by my place earlier,” Joel discloses.

My heart warms and a smile so big covers my face it hurts. “Joel, that’s so nice,” I remark.

Ellie darts past us, putting her dishes in the dishwasher. “I have to keep working on the wall. Thanks for breakfast, Joel,” she bids us goodbye, rushing across the room.

Joel hands me a plate and I accept it, loading it up with some fresh fruit first. “You’re welcome, kiddo,” Joel replies.

“See you in a bit, El,” I call to her.

“Look, I have to go. My brother Tommy is comin' round and he doesn't come round often,” Joel says, awkwardly tapping the counter with his pointer finger.

My jaw drops and I peer up at him with regret. “Oh fuck, Joel. You should’ve woke me up,” I whine.

Joel slowly shakes his head. “Mmm, didn’t want to. You look cute when you sleep,” he compliments.

My eyes widen and I look down at my plate, praying I don’t drop it. Joel fucking Miller just called me cute. “I’m sorry,” I apologize.

“Don’t apologize. I made the decision,” Joel’s morning voice sounds like a melody to my ears.

I nod, unsure of what to say. I pick up a piece of bacon, moaning at the perfect crispiness of the meat. “Well, enjoy breakfast. Thanks again for Ellie,” Joel pipes up.

“Of course. Bye, Joel,” I wave at him as he follows his daughter.

“Bye,” Joel calls over his shoulder with a smile.

My head throws back with a groan as I shuffle towards my couch. A faint knocking sound rasps on the wooden door and I pause my movements. I wait for another knock and when I don’t hear anything, I dust it out of my mind. I sit on the couch before I hear a knock again, this time louder. My feet carry me down the stairs to my back door and when I turn the corner, I see Joel’s side profile.

He looks stressed so I quickly yank the door open. “Did you forget your knife again?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No, sweetheart. I’m sorry for botherin’ you,” he apologizes, putting one hand on the door frame.

He leans onto the side of the bakery and the wood groans beneath him. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

He clears his throat, seemingly uncomfortable. “Are you free tomorrow?” he asks.

My brows furrow and I pull my cardigan closed over my inevitably hard nipples. “Uh, I can be. Why?” I sputter.

He closes his eyes for a moment, inhaling a harsh breath. “Maybe I’m readin’ this wrong,” he sighs.

“Reading what wrong?” I ask.

Joel removes his hand from the wall, straightening his back. “Nevermind. I’ll see you later,” he mumbles.

My eyes dart left and right. Am I in the fucking twilight zone right now? “Umm okay,” I utter.

“Bye, sugar,” he says before taking a step back, putting what feels like a mile in between us.

Somehow, I feel a pang of disappointment in my stomach that I’ve missed something. “Bye,” I say to him, stepping back and shutting the door.

Ginny without a kiss - 2, Ginny with a kiss - 0

read the rest of the series.

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alittlefrenchtree · 2 months

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I think Taylor's more professional and calmer/put together side is very noticeable in so many videos of him. Think about it! When he's interacting with fans and he's so patient, soft-spoken and the way he gestures and moves? The way he's so chill and level headed in interviews? Please read the Tatler interview from China cause it's so good and it is so apparent in how he manages himself. Like you say, because he's an adult in his early 30's, he's at that stage in life where you know who you are and he seems very confident in who he is and that's displayed on the way he speaks, which is so so beautiful. I also have a competency kink, lol. But more than that, his kindness turns me on so much, it's insane.

Hi there! I don’t even know if you remember sending this since your message has been sitting in my inbox for so long and for that I’m so sorry. I’ve been caught in the delicious daily life of being either too busy to hang out here or too tired to think and write in English. On top of that, I was late in answering asks so it took me a while to get to yours and here we are, weeks(? Probably) later.

You’re obviously right in everything you mentioned about Taylor. I feel like this conversation has been going on for so long (and it’s my fault entirely) that we kind of lost the point of how it started. All of the things you talk about are examples of how he acts when he’s the main character of the situation. Obviously for Taylor, how he acts when he’s the center of the attention and when he’s not seem to be two close things, but it’s not always the case. What fascinated me in the post that started this whole discussion was how he acts when he is part of the background somehow? What it says about him -- that someone who he’s a model and an actor with such a sunshine personality doesn’t feel the need to push himself in front of the lens, doesn't feel the need to put the attention on himself and simply is this quiet presence in the background, who just focus on his work even if it doesn’t look like the most exciting thing to do (like taking the same step over and over again to get the perfect shot) -- has intensified how I feel about him.

Like said, the thing you talk about and the thing I talk about are close things — the same traits (calm, patient) in different settings.

I’m pretty sure I’ve already read the Tatler interview but yes, point is, I suppose we’re all receptive to different circumstances even if it’s of the same qualities. I like all Taylor content but I always take very public content with a grain (or a pinch) of salt especially regarding of what people really are based on how they act in front of a camera. I don’t know if that makes sense. English is hard. I hope I don’t come across as saying that you’re wrong or that you didn’t understand something. I just like details and nuanced thoughts and I like to split hairs (is that how you say it?) to express opinions I guess.

And oh and yes, competence kink. I had never actually put words on it before reading it in Alex but yes, obviously. Admiration is the big thing for me and what better way to summon admiration than by looking at someone who is very competent? Please.

But kindness doesn’t do much for me, actually. In general or in an is it attractive trait or not situation. It is a valuable thing but not something that triggers anything particularly positive in me. I even (sometimes) not to be suspicious over kindness because human beings are so rarely worth of trust even when they look like it. Obviously not talking specifically over Taylor here, just in general. Therefore, that’s my cue to stop rambling and say thank you for your message. So sorry it took me so long to answer 💜

#alft asks

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curiositydooropened · 2 years

Text

Walks in the Forest

can she not take a hint? You're a theatre major.

Pairing: Robin x reader

Wordcount: 861

Warnings: Just a bit of fluffy fluff, and stereotyping theatre majors because I was one

---

You really thought she’d get the hint by now. You were a theatre major for Christ’s sake. You thought she understood that night you leant your favorite sweater, keening over the way it hung off her shoulders and painted her cheeks rosy red. You thought she understood at that off-campus party, when you tucked her hair behind her ear, or at that other off-campus party when you tangled your fingers with hers to lead her through that crowd of people but didn’t let go when the room opened up.

But maybe you were wrong, maybe she didn’t get the hint, didn’t get you, and maybe you didn’t get her either. Because now, as you walked through the sledge of a soiled path in a little wooded park, she rambled on and on and on about Steve back home. And you knew Steve was her best friend, ‘platonic with a capital P’, but the way she gushed about his idiocy didn’t feel platonic, in fact it felt a little heart crushing. And the forest was too quiet to escape the sounds of her chatter, and suddenly you couldn’t breathe.

You pitched yourself over, head between your knees, stopping abruptly, and she was a full five paces ahead before she realized you were no longer in-step.

“Holy shit, are you okay?” She scurried back to you, her Chuck Taylor’s scuffed and covered in scribbles of handwriting and was that blood?

“Fine,” you managed, squeezing your eyes closed, allowing the chug-chug-chug of blood to rush back through your skull. “Just need a minute.”

“Are you sure? Should we turn around? Do you need like water or something? I’m really not great in these circumstances.”

“Robin,” you breathed.

“Yeah?”

“Just shut up for a minute.”

“Okay.”

That helped, not being able to hear that adorable squeak of her voice, the one that sent rivets through you for every morning class. It helped not being able to see her freckled face, tip of her nose pinched pink from the cold. These things helped, but you could still taste the salted caramel latte on your tongue, and you had shared that before your walk, and you knew her lip probably tasted of it too, and that destroyed you.

With a groan, you thrust yourself upward, stumbling a bit at the immediate black of a head rush. Robin gripped at the crux of your elbow to stabilize you, and the blood from your head rushed to that spot, all tingly and warm. “Are you okay?” She asked again, cruelty.

You ran a hand through your hair and threw your arms in the air. You’d had enough, honestly. Enough of the torture that was this beautiful woman before you. “Are you in love with Steve?”

“What? No. Ew. We’re just-“

“Don’t say it!” You held a hand up to her. “Please don’t say you’re just friends, because then when you tell me that we’re friends, it’ll hurt so much worse.”

Robin blinked back at you, eyebrows furrowed. “Aren’t we friends, though?”

You sighed, pinched the bridge of your nose. “Yes, Robin. We’re friends, but maybe that’s my problem, okay?”

“What is this?” She looked around, the trees, the leaves, you. “You took me into the woods to tell me you don’t want to be friends anymore?”

“I took you in the woods to confess my feelings for you!” You threw your hands in the air again, for emphasis. Theatre major, and all that.

“What?”

“I gave you my favorite sweater, Robin! And when you gave it back, it smelled like you, and every time I wear it now, I just think of you, and it’s even more of my favorite sweater.” You whined, biting at your bottom lip when your brain caught up with the implications of everything you just spewed. What if she didn’t feel the same way? Oh God, what if she didn’t like women at all?

“You have feelings for me?” She wasn’t running. She didn’t seem angry, just a bit taken aback, and God, so slow on the uptake. That wasn’t necessarily a bad sign.

You swallowed and moved a breath closer, the slightest scuffle of feet to mossy ground below. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to be in the same room as you without trying to kiss you for weeks now. Thought the forest would feel bigger.” You looked up at the treeline, cloudy sky painted grey overhead, a bad omen.

“So try.” Or not.

You looked back at her to find she’d scooted impossibly closer, dark lashes on freckle-painted cheeks. She was kissed rosy pink from the cold, tongue poked out to wet her bottom lip. “What?”

“Try to kiss me.” She rasped again, and you closed the gap.

A hand cupping her soft cheek, you pressed your lips to hers. They were full and warm and she tasted of salted caramel and coming home. You wrapped your other hand around her waist to pull her in tight, and when you pulled apart, a bit Robin-drunk and happy, you nuzzled your nose against her own.

“Took you long enough,” she mumbled.

“You knew?”

“You’re a theatre major. Of course I knew.”

---

A/N: I've been wanting to write a little Robin sapphic love story for so long, and this made me so giddy and I know I'm going to write loads more. I just adore her. Please send Robin x f!reader recs!

Happy Autumn and thank you for reading! xo

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley fic #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley drabble #stranger things fic

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wearequeer-andwearehere · 8 months

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hey!! this might be really long and if so i'm sorry for that, just trying to figure some stuff out.

okay basically, i'm a cis female and idk what my sexuality is. i've never been in a relationship, never had strong feelings for anyone, i've kissed three boys all in club settings, and i am so confused.

i think women are pretty?? and i love looking at them in a respectful, 'you're so gorgeous way', and men are good looking in a very different way to me but i still think i'm attracted to them

i'd like to kiss a girl but i can't ever see myself being in a relationship with one. and i don't know if that is some sort of internalised homophobia that i need to address or if it's just lack of experience, bc i don't think i can see myself with a guy. or maybe a can because it's what i see all around me???

and then the idea of being approached by a women in a sexual/romantic way scares me. is that just lack of experience??

and then i've had multiple people say to me 'are you sure you aren't gay?' and other things along those lines in a non-serious way, and if i am queer, i feel like i'm proving them right, and how did i not see or realise this sooner?? like i should've known right?? if everyone else did??

and a lot of my friends are queer and i feel really safe and accepted with them, so i don't know if i just want to be apart of that and am simply creating issues that aren't even there to begin with??

but then i've dreamt about being with women and straight women don't have them?? right?

then i tell myself i don't have to know right now, but it seems like everyone else but me knows. i'm 20 yrs old and i have NO idea about anything, and maybe that's okay? plus sexuality is fluid? and always changing so maybe i'll never know?

this was very messy and i'm sorry for that, but if you have any advice or thoughts, i'd be so grateful, i'm so overwhelmed right now. - a <3

Hi hi hi A!! Don’t worry about it long rambly asks are totally fine I’m here for u homie

Wow bro ur getting some action 😭 😭 can we switch places lmao

Oh wow you’re 20?? Okay disclaimer, I am a teenager haha so take everything I say with a pinch of salt bc I explored this whole sexuality thing when I was like 13, so we’ve had v different experiences but I’ll try my best to help u out bro I gotchu

What do you mean by “in a different way?” That can mean two things. Do you find women pretty objectively and men like ATTRACTIVE, or are you attracted to both men and women in different ways?

The whole being scared thing is, as my generation would say, a Big Mood. It could be either internalised homophobia or lack of experience or maybe you just don’t like women at all.

In terms of dreaming about being with women, that could mean anything or nothing. Dreams are just your subconscious putting everything in a blender and pouring the smoothie of hell into your sleep brain. It could mean you want to be with women or it could mean that shit in ur skull is just fucking around.

Honey you do NOT have to know right know. You’re twenty. That’s like. You’ve lived like 25% of your life, approximately. That’s jack shit. That’s not even the pass mark on most tests. You have got SO MUCH of your life left to live, you’ve got like decades and shit man, you don’t gotta have everything down right now. Talk to like ur parents or older friends and see *how much* life you have ahead of you.

It’s possible that this may also be contributing to that whole young adult early 20s “oh my god everyone else knows everything and i’m floundering” but honey trust me EVERYONE is floundering. Everyone is fucked. People seem put together but trust me dude we are all goddamn messes. You’re not alone. So many people are trying to figure themselves out, just like you.

Imma be fr thinking about this shit? Overrated. You’ll just think urself into another spiral and it’ll be the mental equivalent of doing like 19 buzzfeed quizzes titled “Am I Gay?” at 3:41am and wondering where ur life is going.

Just. Stop thinking. I know it’s hard trust me I have shitass anxiety and it’s so so hard to stop thinking but stop. Tell ur brain to stfu

And then just think of one thing. what makes you HAPPY?

Because that’s all that matters in the long run, doesn’t it?

Kiss a girl and see if it makes you happy. Kiss a guy and ask yourself the same thing.

If I were you, what I would personally do is just uhhh fuck around and find out? Go to a bunch of clubs and just be really slutty til things eventually make sense lmaoo

But once again that’s not for everyone so maybe just try and think about it. Does the idea of being with a girl make you happy? With a guy? Being single?

Also one idea might be for you to explore the aromantic label—you said you’ve never had strong feelings for anyone and it sounds like you might be aro. Look under my #aro questioning tag and check out these posts:

Remember, A, there’s no time limits on these things. There’s no deadlines. You’re young, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you, so take it slow and just be HAPPY and be true to yourself. Bend society to fit you—don’t bend yourself to fit labels, yknow what Im saying? Labels aren’t all that important at the end of the day. Just. Just *be.*

I hope I could help you out A!! Sending so so much love <3333 If you ever wanna talk again feel free to drop me an ask!! Have an awesome day <33

#ask #a #helping out a questioning person

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thecharmingchimaera · 2 years

Text

I’m sick with what’s probably COVID and delirious, so take this all with a pinch of salt…

There seems to be this weird trend circulating the internet that I just can’t put my finger on - something about interpreting texts and “reaching”?? Like, any interpretation that’s slightly out of left field is reaching, even if the person has done their due diligence substantiating it with textual evidence. Which baffles and fascinates me, because it’s almost like… what is the One True Correct interpretation then? So many people I’ve seen wailing “you can’t attribute your own experiences to this interpretation of XYZ character/book/theme/symbolism, that’s not RIGHT”. Like. Buddy. What are you saying. Are you saying your milquetoast “take it at face value” take is the Interpretative Overlord then? All media and art, heck CREATING art itself and extrapolating themes/motifs/archetypes across media is based on people riffing off their own experiences.

I don’t understand how a person can look at somebody going “hey, even if he didn’t intend to portray him as such, this author’s descriptions of this character matches my experience … for example, as a gay man, I’m going to interpret the character’s behaviours and motives as such, here’s my evidence” and immediately go “NO YOU’RE WRONG”. Like, what do you think literary studies is about? It’s fifty-nine personally influenced interpretations stacked on top of each other in a trench coat, the only reason people can’t see that is because the experiences of a handful of upper class white men have been enshrined as The One True Lens With Which to View Them All.

… I lost thread of my point somewhere, but meh. Look upon my ramblings ye mighty and despair

#writing #literature #symbolism #writeblr #gradblr #literary studies #philosophy #Roland Barthes #the author is Schrödinger’s corpse #literary theory

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frogtanii · 3 years

Text

℗ me and my husband

atsumu x fem!reader (poker face ending)

series masterlist

♡´･ᴗ･`♡

wc. 3.2k (holy shit)

warnings. NOT PROOFREAD, v v soft domestic, marriage :00, smut!! (is marked off!!), soft dom!tsumu, hair pulling (giving), unprotected sex, slight praise kink, pretty vanilla ngl

an. can be read as a one shot but u might be confused lmfao also this took SO LONG OMFG also also heavily unedited, take things w a grain of salt lmfao anyways don’t forget to feed me ahaha m rlly proud of this so i hope y’all like it <33

it was moving day and atsumu was about to lose his mind.

today was the official day of the hyper house disbandment and while most of the members were still figuring out new living arrangements and thus remaining past the deadline, you were one of the few trying to get out as soon as possible.

makki and mattsun were so excited to have you move in, they showed up early that morning to help you pack. now, it was around 1p and it was almost time for you to go. you still had a few more boxes to go but things were speeding right along.

normally, atsumu would be right by your best friends helping you out but he was currently in the middle of a breakdown.

you were leaving. leaving. he had no idea when he’d see you again (even though you promised to meet up weekly to catch up), if he would ever see you again. for all he knew, makki and mattsun would just hide you away forever, never to be seen again.

okay, so he was panicking.

it was just... atsumu was in love with you. he’d known for a while (way longer than he’d like to admit) and he selfishly thought he’d have more time with you so that he could work up the courage to confess. but now? you were like three boxes away from a distance that he didn’t know if he or your relationship could recover from.

it wasn’t that he was bad at long distance but the tragic events that the house brought, brought the two of you closer together and he didn’t want to lose that.

atsumu let out a groan and dropped his head against the wall, his mind running with scenario after scenario, all ending in failure and utter embarrassment.

“hey, you okay?” you called out, a large box cradled delicately in your arms. as atsumu turned from the plaster in front of him, he allowed himself a moment to take you in.

you were wearing short athletic shorts, worn converses, and his t shirt. a thin sheen of sweat covered your skin, the lights above reflecting off of it, giving you a warm glow.

of course you looked hot moving boxes.

you called his name again in concern and he immediately felt his heart clench in guilt. you’d already been through so so much and here he was fantasizing about you instead of being there for you like a good friend would.

atsumu let out a sigh and shot you a wide, albeit empty, smile before walking over to you and taking the box out of your hands. the furrow in your brows told him you saw through his expression but he ignored it and made a show of lifting your box above his head and carrying it to mattsun’s car.

“see, what would ya do without these guns angel?” he joked, placing the cardboard into the trunk. you rolled your eyes and poked him in the side playfully. “die, probably.”

the butterflies in his stomach kicked up at the underlying sincerity in your voice but he tried his best to overlook it. it was much harder than it seemed, especially when you looked at him with such fondness in your gaze that made him want to kiss you senseless.

gulping hard, he quickly turned away from you, busying himself with fitting your things in the truck like a game of tetris.

“atsumu.” your voice was firm but pleading and he didn’t dare look at you for fear of spilling everything right then and there. “wow, ya sure got a lot of stuff, huh? wonder how much of this was bought with ushijima’s money,” he started to ramble but thankfully he was interrupted by makki whooping as he walked out of the house.

“last box bitches!” you shot atsumu one final worried look before running over to makki and mattsun, yelling the whole way there.

atsumu was grateful your back was to him because he couldn’t hide the affectionate look that overtook his face, a soft smile spreading across his lips as he watched you hip bump your friends while cackling wildly.

god, he was so in love with you.

what was he going to do when you moved out and away? what if you found someone, someone how loved you as much as he did (not possible)? he would wish for your happiness even at the expense of his own but... what if you both could be happy?

caught up in his thoughts, atsumu didn’t register you saying your goodbyes to the remaining members until you were finally in front of him.

“i’m gonna miss living with you tsum.” you unceremoniously launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. his heart leapt violently at the contact and he prayed to every deity above that you didn’t hear it underneath your head.

he barely managed to hug you back before you pulled away, your eyes slightly teary and red. “um, well, makki and mattsun are waiting for me so uh,” you trailed off looking back at the van and your friends who were so (im)patiently waiting for you to join them.

atsumu’s breath quickened as you scooted a bit away from him, truly getting ready to leave. no, no, it couldn’t end like this, awkward and distant. no, he wasn’t going to let it.

“atsumu?” you asked worriedly, reaching out a hand to touch him when he didn’t respond but he couldn’t hear you. he felt hot all over, like he was going to explode or magically combust if he didn’t get the words out into the air.

“tsum, are you oka-“ “i’m in love with ya.”

you paused, shock written clearly all over your face. the fear of rejection slammed into atsumu like a brick, the feeling settling in the pit of his stomach like a rock but he still didn’t stop.

“i’m in love with ya and i have been for forever. yn, yer beautiful but yer face and body aren’t even the best part of ya, even though they’re pretty damn great. yer just-“

“tsum-“

“-yer so kind, especially when ya don’t need ta be. yer badass but ya care fer others so deeply and ya make me wanna be a better person. ya make me a better person. i know ya-“

“tsumu please-“

“-ya probably don’t feel the same and that’s alright but i needed ta tell ya, before ya leave and fall in love with some other scrub, just in case we can be happy together and-“

all of a sudden, your hands were buried in his shirt and you were pulling him close to meet your lips with his, your mouths meshing together in a soft and passionate kiss.

bliss. atsumu was in sheer bliss. your lips were as soft as he thought they would be as they moved with his, his hands coming up to grip your waist and pull you even closer to him.

sooner than he would have liked, his lungs started burning for air so he pulled back but not very far, instead resting his forehead against yours.

“i was trying to tell you i liked you too, idiot,” you muttered, your eyes still closed as you spoke. he chuckled, a wide grin overtaking his entire face as he really took in what you were saying.

you liked him back. you liked him. holy shit.

but instead of saying any of that, he decided to tease you a bit. “just like? if i recall, i just confessed my undying love for ya.”

you pulled back with a faux scoff, hitting him in the arm with a huff. “shut up you ass. of course i love you too.” you couldn’t keep your real smile off your cheeks while you confessed, your soft expression bringing another wave of desire over atsumu’s body.

“can, can i take ya inside angel?” he allowed his true intentions to be heard in his words, your eyes widening when you figured out what he meant. you nodded vigorously before shooting a look to makki and mattsun. mattsun just waved you off and got into his truck while makki yelled, “get that dick!”

you heated up horribly, grabbing atsumu’s hand and pulling him towards the house and to his room. he allowed himself to be dragged along, sending winks to the other boys as he went until the two of you were standing right in front of his door.

“i love ya,” he whispered, lifting your hand to his lips to place a gentle kiss there. you grinned. “love you too tsum.”

that must have been the final straw because the minute the words left your mouth, he was on you.

••• smut begin•••

pressing you up against the door, atsumu ravaged your mouth, his tongue tangling with yours as he walked you backwards into his room, laying you down on the bed so that he was hovering over you, his hips pressing hard against yours.

instinctively, you ground up into him, rewarding you with a loud groan and a gasp of your name. “fuck angel, yer killing me here,” he laughed breathlessly, rolling his hardness against your thigh. you let out a breathy moan and tangled your hands in his hair to bring him back down to your lips.

as you continued to kiss him, his hands scrambled at your waist, pushing his hands under it to grope at your chest. you giggled at the cold of his fingers but he didn’t pay it any mind, moving down from your mouth to your neck, sucking dark marks into the sensitive skin there.

“ah, shit tsumu,” you tilted your head to the side to give him more access, just as he reached under your bra to tease your nipples. a startled gasp left you, your back arching into his careful touch. “that feel good angel?” atsumu asked, voice low and gravelly as he pinched the delicate bud, drawing another noise from your throat.

you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. you bit your bottom lip while he pulled your shirt and bra off, tossing them somewhere in the room. as he scanned your half naked body, he noticed you quieting yourself and he lightly shook his head. his thumb found its way to your lip, carefully pulling it from between your teeth.

“wanna hear ya angel, let me hear yer pretty noises, yeah?” without letting you respond, atsumu dove back into your chest, suckling one of your nipples into his mouth while toying with the other, a sigh of his name sending a bolt of arousal straight to his loins.

he grinded against you absentmindedly, losing himself in you, eventually switching sides to give the same treatment to your neglected bud.

while atsumu seemed to be having the time of his life attached to your tit, you were getting impatient, your arousal completely soaking through your underwear. you needed more.

tangling your fingers in his blond locks, you attempted to tug him away from your chest but his reaction was unlike anything you could’ve expected. “aahh!” he let out a strangled whine, his hips bucking against your side.

“please, tsumu, need more,” you breathed, his needy reaction not lost on you as pulled his hair a bit harder. you were not disappointed as his eyes rolled back and his mouth opened in a silent moan before dropping his head to your shoulder.

“fuck, fuck, okay angel, i got ya, i got ya.” atsumu swiftly disposed of both yours and his bottoms and underwear before lifting your leg and positioning himself at your entrance.

“tell me if i hurt ya, alright? i love ya,” he smiled down on you, your heart swelling two times at his carefulness. “i love you too,” you replied, watching as his pupils grew and a low groan broke free from his chest.

“oh angel, ‘m gonna ruin ya.” that was the last thing he said before he pushed into you, both of you letting out whimpers as he stretched you open, the blunt head of his cock just a few centimeters shy of your cervix.

your back arched in pleasure, both of your hands scrambling until they found purchase on his back, your nails digging in just when he started to thrust shallowly into you.

“f-fuck, how’re ya s-so fuckin’ tight?” atsumu growled through gritted teeth, every word punctuated with a roll of his hips. you couldn’t respond as you were too overwhelmed with pleasure, his cock rubbing against your g-spot with every slow movement.

speaking of slow, he was moving way too leisurely for your tastes. you needed him to move faster and you knew exactly how to do it.

sliding your hand up from his back, you grabbed a good chunk of hair from the back of his head and pulled. his reaction was immediate and oh-so gratifying.

an honest to god whimper poured from his lips and he instantly thrusted all the way into you, his length driving into your g-spot perfectly. you both let out twin moans as he started rocking into consistently, every movement bringing you closer and closer to your peak.

“i love ya, i love ya so fuckin’ much, angel—shit—yer so amazing, i love ya,” atsumu rambled while pounding into you, deep curses and whines of your name interspersed with his declarations of love. if you could speak, you would reciprocate but you were too busy holding on for dear life as he fucked you into oblivion.

desperate for some kind of anchor to reality, you grasped onto his locks again, gripping tightly as drawn-out cries of his name slipped from your open lips. you were close, so close and he knew it too.

“feel ya clenchin’ around me like a good girl, ya gonna cum fer me? gonna cum fer me angel?” atsumu’s hand snaked down between your bodies to rub fast circles on your clit, a shaky sob finding its way out into the open air.

“oh shit, yeah, ‘m g-gonna cum for you tsum, ‘s all for you,” you moaned, clamping down on him sporadically as you started to cum, your vision whiting out and your thighs trembling while you gushed around him.

your mind was floating off when you felt him cum with a shout, his warmth flooding you and spilling out as he collapsed onto your chest.

••• smut over •••

the two of you lied there for a while, attempting to regain your brain and feeling in your legs. you vaguely made note of the wet rag cleaning between your thighs and the following weight falling down beside you but it was only after a few more minutes that you really came back to yourself, rolling over to lay on atsumu’s bare chest.

“holy shit, tsumu,” you said in awe, your boyfriend (!!) laughing at your reaction. “i’m just that good angel, what can i say?”

you groaned and hit him in the chest but you couldn’t keep the smile off your face if you tried. “you are such a menace!”

“only fittin’ that i picked a gremlin ta be with then,” atsumu teased while playing with a piece of your hair. mock offense filled your chest as you sat up, fixing him with your ‘angriest’ glare.

“is that the kind of language you’ll be using in your vows, mister?” you were only joking but when atsumu’s eyes widened and a blush spread across his cheeks, you realized your mistake.

you opened your mouth to apologize or to make some kind of excuse but he beat you to the punch. “ya wanna marry me angel?” he asked, looking so vulnerable with hope shining in his brown irises. you couldn’t bear to lie.

“of course tsum, you’re it for me,” you reached out a hand to caress his cheek and he leaned into it, his own coming up to cup yours and hold it against his face.

“good.” and that was the end of that, that evening’s... extraneous activities having thoroughly tired to the point that you fell completely asleep with your face against one of his pecs.

if you had stayed awake a little longer, you would’ve seen atsumu pull out his phone and start a new note titled, “my angel.”

if i just said i loved you, it would be an understatement. it would be like saying the sun’s surface is just a bit warm or that the arctic is just a little chilly. it would be an injustice to you and to how i truly feel about you. love—

“-is a word that is much too soft and used far too often ta ever describe the fierce, infinite and blazing passion that i have in my heart for ya angel. ya acknowledge my strengths and ya accept my faults. ya make me wanna be a better person every day. so, today i vow ta laugh with ya and comfort ya during times of joy and times of sorrow. i promise ta always pursue ya, ta fight for ya, and love ya unconditionally and wholeheartedly for the rest of my life. ya are my best friend and i’m the luckiest person on earth ta call ya mine- wait are ya crying?"

the audience burst into laughter as you frantically tried to wipe away your tears, punching atsumu softly on the arm. “of course i am, you ass.”

the officiant cleared his throat, grabbing both of your attentions. “it is the bride’s turn to give her vows. if you may?”

you nodded and atsumu already felt like crying. again. he’d cried that morning while getting dressed and then again when you walked down the aisle in the most beautiful dress he had ever seen. now, as he watched you pull a folded piece of paper out of your bra, he knew he’d made the right decision in confessing to you, all those years ago.

he also knew he was definitely going to cry again.

“atsumu, falling for you wasn’t falling at all—it was walking into a house and knowing that you’re home. today, i want to make you promises that i will always keep. i promise to never stop holding your hand or accepting your kisses. i promise to not hit you too hard when you insult me or call me a gremlin. i promise to share my food with you, to never go to bed angry, and to try and understand your obsession with professional men’s volleyball. i promise to love, respect, protect and trust you, and give you the best of myself, for i know that together we will build a life far better than either of us could imagine alone. i choose you. i’ll choose you over and over and over, without pause, without doubt, i’ll keep choosing you.

i used to never truly enjoy moments because i was always waiting for what's next. the next thing horrible thing to happen. now that i have you, i enjoy the moment. every moment.

today seems like it's the start of a new journey, but i already belong to you. falling for you wasn't falling at all—it was walking into a house and knowing you're home. i love you.”

and at least in this lifetime

we’re sticking together

me and my husband

we’re sticking together

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

Note

I read the edgy!karl, I’ve just finished reading the alt!dream, WHEN IS GEORGE GONNA BE NEXT 😩😩

*cracks knuckles* the hcs that everyone has provided me with has hella prepped me and I'm ready. this is dedicated to 🍭 anon, whose fanart always steals my entire heart. i love u babe

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄. ᶤ 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐤!𝐠𝐧𝐟

± pairings: punk!Georgenotfound x fm!reader

± word count: ~3300

± warnings: smut (18+), language, tattoo work, sadism, pain kink (if you squint), domination, mentions of needles, asphyxiation

song recommendation: Cent Fois by Alice et Moi

George’s mind wandered to his curiosity of the shop across from his tattoo parlor; bright neon signs advertising the local psychic. It was a stark contrast to the dark, wet city housing the businesses. Each night he locked up, he found himself standing on the other edge of the street, staring at the signs and draperies peeking from behind the glass windows and considering shedding his skeptical nature just for one night.

While your business was alluring in and of itself, his true draw to the place came after he had spotted you moving into the apartments above. Your clean appearance completely juxtaposed the business you ran. In his opinion, all natural healers and psychics were born scam artists only focused on the quickest way to pinch a penny.

Yet day after day, he found himself having to tear his eyes from your business just to get home or he would actually venture inside. He was rather subtle about his fascination when it came to his co-workers and regular customers, but each day he prayed you would wander in, requesting some kind of tattoo in a place hidden from outside eyes.

A place he’d like to see again in a less professional setting.

You flipped the textbook page after finishing your paragraph, highlighting a date you were looking for before leaning towards your notebook and scribbling down the fact. You gnawed on the end of your pen absent-mindedly, positive you still didn’t know what your professor had been rattling off about in class a few hours prior. Your sights drifted up to the incense burning across the store from you, the stick on its last few centimeters of wood as the smoke went stale.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, debating if you should light another or wait until morning. You capped your marker and stretched your back, the bell over the door letting out a telling chime as a man peeked in.

You leaned over the counter, closing your books. “Good evening! Welcome to After Life. Can I help you find anything?” You rambled, your mind flashing to the sheet of paper tucked into the frame of your bathroom mirror so you didn’t forget the basics of customer service.

The man stepped further into your view, stuffing his fists in his jean pockets as he walked closer in a cautious motion. His dark t-shirt advertised a band you had vaguely heard of, but couldn’t think of a song even if your life depended on it. What really drew your attention were his tattooed arms; branches from a grand tree twisting every which direction to peek out from beneath his sleeves; bright floral designs and litters of birds decorating the dark wood limbs. You bit back a smile at the small mushroom tattoo near his wrist that seemed to be out of place.

The laces of his Chuck Taylors grazed the floor before he was standing in the middle of your store, looking around briefly. “I actually co-own the parlor across the street. I realized I never welcomed you officially,” he stated, hints of nervousness reflecting in his tone. His accent was calming and husky from the season change.

At the mention of the tattooist across the street, your memory flashed to the various walks of life that found themselves in your store after getting work done. You also thought of the fact that you had seen the man before you break up fights in the street stretching between your properties. The tall muscular people seemed to have no effect on him as he’d pull them apart like school children on the playground.

You pushed your books further to the side. “Oh yeah, that’s right! I should have come over and introduced myself, so don’t worry about it,” you eased, swatting the air of his comment.

He chuckled softly before reality seemed to snap into his head, making him step forward and extend a hand to you. “I’m George, by the way,” he introduced. You took his hand, muttering your own name and hoping your attention span would hold for long enough that he would be entered into your long-term memory.

His hand was calloused in yours, something that you wondered came with the job or if he was some kind of carpenter in a past life of his. You gently pulled his hand closer to you, slipping your hold out of his to look at his palm. He tittered nervously, peering at the flesh with you. Your finger traced along the mounts in his hand, finding Jupiter to be the most prominent. “That checks out,” you mumbled to yourself, nodding softly.

His eyebrows perked up. “What? Am… Am I gonna meet a tall dark stranger and take a trip across the sea?” He joked, making you smile as you looked at his Sun line.

“I didn’t peg you as an Outlander fan,” you chided.

His brows flattened for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip and playing with his snake bite piercings. You found it hard to look away from him. “Honestly, I wasn’t. A girl I was fooling around with really liked it. I don’t know…” he trailed off, making you giggle.

Your nail grazed along his heart line. “You guys were just fooling around?” You quirked, eyes meeting his. His expression narrowed smugly as if urging you to continue. “Your heart line begins below your index finger. You’re not the fooling around type.” He let out a snort. “You fall in love easily too.”

He sighed with a slight sparkle in his eyes as he looked at you. You couldn’t tell if he was amazed or mocking you again. “Well, yeah. That’s…” He paused with a swallow, biting back a grin as if he was uncomfortable, but didn’t retract his hand from you. “... That’s why we’re not anymore,” he admitted. He leaned his elbows on the counter as you sat in your chair. “What else does it say?”

Your lips curled into a soft smirk, his curious eyes trailing over your face as if to watch your brain work. “You have a fire element hand which indicates that you’re confident and passionate. Maybe a bit cocky sometimes,” you teased, making him chuckle with you. You could feel his eyes on you, sending heat to your cheeks as you tried not to focus on the mount of Venus under your touch.

You wanted to ask him about his sexual indulgences, mainly because of the prevalence of Venus in his palm. “You have a mount in Jupiter, which means you’re a natural leader, and rather dominant.” You looked up at him again, watching as he bit back a smirk, seemingly understanding the subtle innuendos behind your statements.

George seemed to have some kind of effect on you, your thoughts clouding with the idea of what his snake bites would feel like against your lips. He smelled like cigarette smoke, but there was no discoloration to his skin to suggest he was the one smoking. He watched you through the hair threatening to dangle over his eyes, his gaze hinting at an attraction he had for you below his collected form. “Go on,” he murmured, voice soft and wispy as the space between the two of you seemed to warm.

You made a conscious effort to keep your sultry thoughts at bay as your thumb brushed over the area you had been avoiding telling him about. “You’re driven by desire,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… very in touch with your sexuality and you thrive on your indulgences.”

You couldn’t help but meet his eyes, the dark irises swimming with some kind of cocky smugness at what you had just told him. He pulled away from you, gently standing up. Part of you wished the counter between the two of you would vanish just so you could be pressed up against George at the mercy of his driven mind. “I feel it's only fair I tattoo you now,” he quipped, making your eyebrows raise. Your confidence shriveled yet you swore you wouldn’t let him know that fact.

You chewed on your lip, looking up at him with a hint of suspicion. “Oh, I’ve never been tattooed,” you avowed, voice carrying the slightest bit of your coaxing nature.

He smirked. “I’ll take care of you, I promise,” he cajoled, teeth playing at his piercings again as you were sure he was already undressing you with his eyes. “You read me, I’d like to do the same.”

And how could you refuse such an appealing offer?

You leaned back on your elbows, your skin sticking to the leather chair beneath you as you watched him pull back his hair, elastic band dangling from his white teeth. Despite securing back his locks, bits of his bangs still hung over his forehead. You liked the interior of his parlor, maybe because it was only the two of you.

George began to fill small caps of dark ink. “I think you should get some crystals in here,” you teased, making him smirk. “I could hook you up.”

“What, like a salt lamp?” He joked, pulling on a pair of dark plastic gloves.

You snorted, lying back and looking up at the ceiling. “It might be good. Lighten the place up a bit.” George swiveled his chair closer to you muttering some kind of line about only getting them from you, but his words fell silent on your ears as his hand pushed up your shirt. You were silently thanking whatever divine force above for swaying you towards slinkier lingerie earlier that morning.

You knew he could see the lacy edges of your bra by the way his eyes nonchalantly flashed up to you before laying out his template on your ribs. You could feel hints of his warm breath against your skin as he studied it. “You can look at it if you want,” he stated.

You shook your head, wanting him close to you as long as he could be. “I trust you,” you muttered, your eyes meeting his again. His tongue pressed against his cheek as he struggled not to smile at your statement. He had promised to cover a small scar for you and by the way he explained it, you were ready to be in his hands. You wet your lips as he adjusted the speed on his tattoo gun. “Will this hurt?” You asked, tucking one of your arms behind your head.

The look of unadulterated lust that he gave you made your toes want to curl. “Probably a bit. It feels good sometimes, though,” he answered. He came closer to you, resting his forearm on your stomach to angle himself in the right position. At the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, you swore your body was on fire. It took everything in your power not to moan. It could have been the adrenaline pulsing through your veins, but his soft breath and the anticipation of the needle made you feel like a junky. “I’ll be gentle, darling,” he leered, his accent muddy and low. He let the needles drag against your skin and you bit your lip, trying not to hiss at the pain. His eyes met yours. “See, not bad.”

You let out a breathy wheeze. “Shut up, you sadist,” you quipped, his chuckle coming out rather roguish as he focused on the work in front of him. Your nerves were more focused on the way George’s hands were barely caressing your body as if teasing and hinting at what he could do to you.

You drew in a sharp breath as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Shhh shh. It’ll be over soon,” he cooed, his voice sending goosebumps spreading across your body as his lips tugged into a light smirk. By your palm reading, you knew he was enjoying having this much control over you.

Part of you found it almost torture when George would look at you with soft and lusty eyes for merely a second before his gaze jutted back down to his work, murmuring soft praises about how well you were taking the pain. You would go under the needle anytime he asked, just to receive the sultry treatment he gave.

He was so close, you could have driven your fingers into his dark hair if you wanted. “How did you get this scar?” He asked, cleaning off some of the ink before continuing.

“A knife fight,” you answered without missing a beat, making him scoff. “Actually, I fell into my grandma’s glass table one time. My cousin was teaching me the Electric Slide,” you corrected, making him laugh, shaking his head slightly as he filled in a spot.

He let his tongue dart across his lips. “That’s so cute. Did you ever get it figured out?” To this you shook your head, the both of you laughing. You let out a groan as the needle dug into another area on your ribs, the sound making his eyes dart up to you. He leaned off of you, slipping one of his gloves off. “Wanna hold my hand, sweetheart?” He joked, but you took his offer, squeezing his hand in yours when it got painful enough. You held it close to your chest, hoping he would feel your heartbeat quicken each time he looked at you.

As he finished up his work, his thumb brushed against your hand absent-mindedly. You could tell by the way he gripped your hand as well that he enjoyed that the tattoo hurt you. Most of your mind was excited by how easily he was stirred up by you, while the rest was completely unsurprised and even threatened to bite out that he was a cliché.

When he was finally satisfied, he cleaned you up and stuck on a SecondSkin, biting back a grin at his work as he pulled you up by the hand he was holding onto you with. You couldn’t help but smile at how excited you were to see, swinging your legs over the side of his hair and walking towards his mirror. You held your shirt up, chewing on your bottom lip as you grinned at the ink. George rested a hand beside the mirror, watching you beam at his work.

All of his lines were flawless, your scar completely disappearing within his shading. You’d pitched the idea of an ode to the Creation of Adam. While it was cliche, what better to fit in the space below your breast and give George the impression that you were cultured. Yet you told him he could do whatever he wanted to it, resulting in one of the hands resembling a skeleton and the other holding a sucker. As you praised him, he shrugged off your comments, murmuring about it being his pleasure. He reached out his free hand, letting his thumb smooth over one of the edges of this bandage, which brought you closer to him.

Your cheeks warmed at the close proximity to him as his eyes grazed over your body before meeting your own. His hand moved from the bandage to your back. You leaned on your toes, pressing your lips to his. The tension between the two of you dissipated as he hungrily reacted, pulling you against him and savoring your moans as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

George’s hands moved down your body, swiftly hooking around your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you back to his chair. Your hands moved into his hair, letting it loose and wrapping the band around your wrist. The leather was cold as your back pressed to it. George leaned back to pull his shirt over his head, revealing more of the tree painting the expanses of his skin.

If you weren’t so eager to be touched by him, you’d be studying the work of art.

As his lips met yours again, you ground your hips against his, eliciting a moan to vibrate through his chest. You raked your nails down his back, trying to further draw out reactions from him as his hands attentively played with the lace of your bra, fingers ghosting over the skin pressing against the cups.

His lips left yours only to travel the length of your jaw and inch his way toward your waistband. Your pants were discarded with a swift tug from him before he pulled your thighs flush against his, grinding his hips against yours, hands gripping onto your sides to keep you in place. You tilted your head back, relishing in the friction as your body screamed to finally feel him take advantage of you.

You reached between the two of you, tugging at his zipper as your hunger for him escalated. His tongue flattened against your collarbone before his teeth pressed into your skin. You could feel his arousal through his jeans at the sound of your whimpering.

He pumped himself in his hand before pressing into you, the feeling of him inside of you making your head spin as if you were on some kind of ecstasy. Your moan came out needy and desperate as he thrust into you, gripping the edge of the leather seat as his breath hummed against your skin. Your fingers threaded into his hair, raking your nails down his neck as he groaned in your ear at the feeling.

One of his hands grasped your wrists together, pinning them above your head while the other wrapped around your throat. His eyes burned into yours as he leaned back, leaning his weight on your wrists and squeezing your throat, the lack of oxygen making each of your senses more heightened as he pounded into you.

Your moans of George’s name were grated as they slipped through your mouth, his relentless pace and intense hold nearly making you drool from the stimulation. By the practice of his actions, you wondered how long he had been stewing on demolishing you in this way.

He loosened his grip on your neck, leaning down to press his lips against yours, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip just to hear you groan from the rough action. You rolled your hips against his, letting him slow his pace to reach deeper within you. A sadistic grin spread across his face as he rubbed a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the makeup smudging around your eyes from his antics and the heat between the two of you.

He pressed his lips to your neck, wrapping his hand around the edge of the chair again to drive himself into you, the new angle muddling your mind and vision as your body ached to come undone. You sank your nails into his back, earning his low, raspy whispers of your name.

At his praises, you came, tugging on his hair as he bit into your shoulder again, basking in the feeling of you clenching around him.

The next day, George stretched his shoulders, peering through the front window of his shop. His mind sparked with the feeling of your legs around his waist and the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips. He could practically hear you whimpering his name in his ears as he went back to touching up a fading tattoo on his friend’s arm.

“OW, George,” Clay rumbled, thigh flinching at the jab from George.

George snorted, his mind still on the high he got from your pure trust in him as you laid out on his chair. “I’ll give you something to bitch about,” George grumbled, releasing just how gentle he was during your tattoo. The way your voice got soft and quiet when he rolled over a spot that was rather tender already would most definitely be a guilty pleasure of his.

Clay barked at him again as George jerked his hand, fulfilling his promise. “I’VE BEEN NICE TO YOU ALL MORNING.”

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#punk!georgenotfound #punk!george #punk!gnf #georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound imagine #georgenotfound au #georgenotfound smut #gnf x y/n #gnf smut #gnf x reader #gnf imagine #mcyt x you #mcyt au #mcyt x y/n #mcyt smut

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ms-starflower · 3 years

Text

Young Survivors — Maribat

It’s almost four am here, I just finished writing this and am just tired enough to actually go through and post it. And this title is the only thing my tired brain could come up with. Anyway. I haven't posted something I wrote in years, but all the Maribat I’ve read recently made me want to write something for it.

I don’t know if I’m ever going to write a 2 part, but if I do it’s definitely going to be Timari and contain a couple of typical Maribat tropes. And a pinch of salt.

Also, disclaimer: I haven't watched Miraculous in years and most of my DC knowlege come from fanfic or tumblr so... sorry not sorry.

Now with a part 2!

Next >

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mei Leyton’s oldest memories were of her mother, dolled up in pretty dresses and elegant makeup. In her daughter‘s eyes, Margaret Leyton was the most beautiful woman on earth.

For as long as she could remember, Mei would sit on the bed and watch as her mom would get ready to head to work. She had always loved those moments with her mom.

(How do I look, my little flower,” she said, twirling around Mei with a grin, making her laugh. It was Margaret’s favorite dress, a vintage halter blue dress with white accents and a white bow around the waist.

“Like a princess, mommy! The prettiest princess ever!”

“Oh no, no no no. You are the prettiest princess ever, my little flower.”)

She was four when her mother let her help for the first time, letting her pass along brushes and products. It’s then that she understood what were the purple marks on her mother that she covered with her makeup.

(“Life is not fair to us, my little flower,” she had said when Mei asked about it for the first time. “Being an orphan and pretty little girl in Gotham isn’t safe, and it doesn’t give much choice when it comes to survival.”

Mei didn’t understand then, but it didn’t matter anyway, life would make her understand soon enough.)

When Mei was seven, the GCPD found her mother’s body.

When she didn’t see her that morning, Mei hadn’t been worried; it wasn’t the first time. Mom would be home by noon, she always was. Until that day.

(The investigation wouldn’t get very far, it was just another prostitute of Camellia street, nobody cared about them. They were just there until they weren’t anymore.

Another girl would take her place in a couple of days. It was how those kinds of things worked in Gotham.)

That day was kind of blurry in her memory. She remembers being pulled out of class in the morning, and that the cop that told her about her mother’s death was very rude.

(“Your mom is dead, kid. A lad found her body in a dumpster this morning,” the guy had said as soon as she had sat down in the headmistress’ office. “Do you know who she worked for? Or on what side of the Camellia she stayed?” He had asked, halfheartedly.

Mei had shaken her head, even though she did; you don’t talk to cops in Gotham, mom always says said that it was the easiest way to get yourself killed, for people like them.

“Alright,” he had said, not surprised. “A social worker is going to pick you up in a bit to take you to your new home, kid.”

With that he had walked out of the office, not looking back. As if where she would end up was going to be home.)

She remembers that the social worker from CPS was a brunette with tan skin, and looked really overworked, but had a kind smile.

By the end of the day, she was taken to Elliot's Hall for Children, an overcrowded, understaffed orphanage with more kids than they could realistically care for.

(They don’t care for the children, they just put them there for a while and act as they do. Most children leave after a couple of days, and if they don’t, they get taken anyway.

Some come back with a police escort, some manage to survive in the streets, and nobody talks about the ones that are never seen again.

You don’t work there because you love children, and if you do, you don’t last for very long.)

Mei wasn’t stupid, her mother told her stories about those kinds of places. She came from those kinds of places, and Mei saw how the man in charge here had looked at her when the social worker dropped her off.

She wasn’t going to just stand here and wait for him to sell her back in Camellia street. Or worse, to the Candy Dealers.

Taking with her what she absolutely couldn’t leave behind, Mei made a choice her mother hadn’t been able to and took her chance with the streets.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mei was a Camellia kid and, as such, took to the streets easier than most newcomers. She had picked up a few tricks from her aunties and her mom, and it helped her to survive out here.

The only (glaring) differences were the absence of her mother, the lack of a permanent roof above her head, and the fact that she had to provide food and money herself now.

(One of her favorite places to pick up wallets was Gotham Academy, where Gotham’s rich send their children. The kids always had money on them, and it’s not like they would miss it.

Though she couldn’t go too many times in a row, not without risking being spotted and remembered.)

She had been on the streets for two months when she met Jason Todd; the boy who would become her family.

She heard him before she saw him, to be honest. It was an awful crashing noise coming from around the corner, and it made her look.

He was running like the devil was after him, and judging by how the cops running behind him were clutching their batons, she wasn’t that far from the truth.

The noises were because of a couple of trash cans the boy had spilled in their way to slow them down.

And he was coming her way.

Against her better judgment, she grabbed his arm when he passed in front of her, and pulled him behind her into her hideout. Quickly getting the plank of wood back in place, she put her hand on his mouth before he could say anything. With the dumpster in the alley, the entry was almost invisible from outside.

They stayed there as they heard the men pass in front of their hiding place, listening as they argued about where the boy could have disappeared before their voices faded completely.

They waited another couple of minutes before he removed the hand she still had on his mouth and crawled out of there.

“Thanks,” he muttered with a scowl. “I woulda’ve been just fine without help but… yeah, anyway.” Then he had started to walk in the direction he came from.

“Hey! Wait!” She said before she could think about it. “Are ya just gonna, like, go? Just like that?”

“Huh, yeah? What do ya want me to do?” He asked, looking back at her from above his shoulder without stopping his walk. “Stay to drink a cup of tea and talk about the weather?”

“Well.. no. But I just… I just wanna talk a bit, ya know?” She couldn’t really explain why she didn’t want him to leave yet, it’s not like he was the first street kid she had helped out. He just felt different, and somehow she knew he could become important to her.

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed before turning his head back to look forward. “The streets are not some daycare for princesses who want to make friends, kid.”

“Kid— hey, dumbass, you’re, like, ten years old! You’re a kid too! And I’m not a princess, I can survive alone just fine!” Before she knew it, she was walking behind him, the weird feeling forgotten for the offence his comment created. He looked back at her with a frown, before choosing to ignore her. Not letting that deter her, she rambled at him about all the ways why she wasn’t a kid any more than him.

“I thought you could survive alone?” He said, talking over her, when he realized that she wasn’t going to let him be.

“I can.”

“So why are ya following me? Tryin’ to drive me crazy?”

“Well, no. It’s just... that I can do it doesn't mean I want to.”

“Look, kid,” he said, ignoring her protest and talking over her, again. “You should just go back to whatever orphanage you came from, there is probably some nice little family who's gonna pick you up. Then you could make all the friends you want.”

“Like people actually adopt kids in this city. This is Gotham, you dummy, not ‘Annie’. Some rich white guy isn’t going to come and pick up children from the streets to make them live the Grand life.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” he growled out without pausing in his steps. “Still, you’re pretty enough, I’m sure some nice people would adopt you in a second if you let them.”

“Yeah, sure. Mom thought the same when she was a kid, and guess what? She started working on Camellia street when she was fourteen, but nobody asked her if she wanted to. Because she was pretty enough,” the little seven years old spat with venom, her eyes narrowed. The boy stopped walking, turning toward her with eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights. “Her best friend wasn’t, but mom said that she had the prettiest green eyes ever. When they found her body, she didn’t have eyes anymore, because some rich person paid to have pretty green eyes.”

“I— I didn’t—” he stuttered, eyes wide. With his scowl gone he looked so much younger, and Mei’s anger subdued. He wasn’t that much older than her, just a couple of years, maybe three or four, after all.

“It’s… okay, I guess. It’s Gotham. I just thought we both would have more chances to survive if we helped each other out. And, ya know, the company wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, but when they resumed walking he slowed down enough to let her walk beside him without almost-running.

“Great! So, Annie, where are we going now?” She said with a beaming smile, bursting into laughter at his indignation and protest against the nickname.

(“Can’t you stop calling me Annie already?! I told you my name’s Jason!”

“Nope, Annie.”

“Well, then, that makes you Sandy, doesn't it? Ya do follow me around like a stray puppy.”

“I’m not a dog— wait, hold on a minute! I knew you saw the movie! You liar!”)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was ten when her life was put upside down once again, in the worst of ways.

It took practically no time before Jason “Annie” Todd became her brother in all but blood, it took longer for Jason to admit it, and they spend almost three years surviving together, barring the occasional trip back to the Children's Houses.

Though, they always found each other a couple of days after they escaped from those places.

Sometimes, Jason would plan something that he needed to do alone. Because of course, he did.

(“It’s the best job, my plan is perfect. Don’t worry, it’s gonna be great Sandy!”

“Yeah, and why can’t I come?”

“It’s too dangerous! Plus, you need to stay here and keep our things safe!”

“Yeah, if you say so, Annie.”)

That day was one of those days.

He was gone for less than an hour when they found her.

The Candy Dealers.

Mei paled when she saw them, wearing their nice suits and overly sweet smile. They told her they were social workers, specializing in homeless children, and offered her a lollipop. Social workers in Gotham don’t give candy to the kids, even the nice ones, and she knew from her time in Camellia street that the lollipop was drugged.

(“Never, ever, take candy from a Candy Dealer, Mei. Do you understand me? Never,” her mother told her gravely. “They put bad stuff in them, and if you put it in your mouth, they will take you away from me. I couldn’t live without you in my life, my little flower.”)

She tried to run, even before the first one got his hand totally outstretched toward her. But her panic made her stumble, and she was no match for them.

She tried to kick, and scream, and bite, but soon she felt a pinch in her neck, and everything was black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next period of her life was one she tried very hard to forget. For months she was moved, her and dozens of other people, from containers to containers, warehouse to warehouse. Twice they were put in a boat, the containers staying closed for so long, the next time she saw the moonlight, it burned her eyes.

She quickly learned that it was pointless to try to escape (and that Jason wouldn’t come and save her).

Then, one night, the place they were at was illuminated with blue and red lights and the police sirens were so loud, they drowned everything else.

She didn’t let herself hope, though. (She did, she hoped so hard her chest hurt.)

They (probably) weren’t in Gotham anymore, but her childhood didn’t instill her much trust in the police.

They did get them out. And she learned that they were in Paris now. In France. (That was a long way from Gotham.)

There were twenty-seven other people with her in the container. Four of which were kids, and only one other was also an orphan. They weren’t placed together, though. Because the kid had family back where he came from. Unlike her. (She had Jason. He was her family, but they didn’t listen.)

The French social workers took a while to know what to do with her exactly, but they didn’t want to send her back to Gotham (why not? She wanted to go back and find Jason!). So, in the meantime, they placed her in a foster family—one without any other kid, as per her therapist's advice. (The therapist didn’t know anything. She said Gotham wasn’t good for her, but Jason was in Gotham.)

Funnily enough, it ended up being a more permanent solution than previously considered, because the foster parents, Tom and Sabine, quickly fell in love with the little girl.

Not before long, Mei Leyton became Marinette Dupain-Cheng. (They changed her name to give her a ‘new beginning’ because her therapist thought it would be good for her. She didn’t want to have a ‘new beginning', she wanted to go back, to find Jason, to be the Sandy to his Annie. She was Mei, the Camellia’s kid, Sandy, the street’s kid and it was enough for her. She didn’t want to be Marinette, the bakers’ kid.)

So, when Mei was first put into the care of the Dupain-Cheng household, she regularly tried to run away. It was unsurprisingly harder than in Gotham, though. Tom and Sabine were way more attentive than Elliot Hall’s staff ever was, and more than a third of her tentatives were folded even before she was past the front door.

It took her three months (and forty-three unsuccessful tentatives) before she finally accepted that there would be no way for her to go back to Gotham. (Not that she had known how she would manage to do that before, her plan never got that far.) It took another six months before Tom and Sabine trusted her enough to let her wander the neighborhood alone.

The first thing she did the day her ‘new parents’ let her go to the library alone was to get to a public computer, and look Jason up. She didn’t really think she would find anything when she typed Jason Todd and Gotham in Google that day (maybe an obituary). She definitely didn't think she would find her best friend (brother) on the covers of so many tabloids declaring that he was Bruce Wayne’s ward.

She didn’t know how she should feel about the fact that he proved her wrong and became some real-life Annie. She wanted to feel angry, or hurt. Even more so when she realised that Wayne adopted him not even a full week after her (kidnapping) departure from Gotham, but…

But seeing Jason in the pictures… He looked so angry. Angrier than she ever saw him. And hurt. There was hurt hidden in his expression. It was well hidden but she could see it. (She did that, she was the one that hurted him. He probably thought she left him. That she wasn’t any better than his deadbeat of a father and abandoned him. What if he hates her now, because she was gone for so long?)

She needed to go back to Gotham, find him, and explain everything. She needed to tell him she didn’t want to leave him behind, that he was her family, and that it would never change. But Tom and Sabine didn’t want to take her back there, not before she was older, because she wasn’t ready yet, they said.

She didn’t care, though. No matter how long it would take her, she was going to go back. So, she slowly started to act like the perfect little girl. She didn’t really change, she just stopped bringing up Gotham so much, started to help more often in the house and at the bakery, and started to call Tom and Sabine Papa and Maman. (It wasn’t real, at first. But then, they just crawled into her heart against her will and became family. They didn’t replace her Mom or Jason, though. Nobody ever will.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She started to heal. Slowly, without even realising. She opened up to a couple of children at her school, made friends with Nino, and sort of Frenemies (more enemy than friend, though) with Chloé Bourgeois. She picked up hobbies like sewing and designing, baking with Tom, or learning various martial arts with Sabine.

But she didn’t forget, going back to Gotham was still her ultimate goal. Until the news reached her, when she was twelve.

Jason Todd was dead.

Her best friend, her brother in everything but blood, her Annie. Dead. Jason was dead.

She felt like a part of her died with him, reading the words but not really processing. She let herself drown in her grief, closing up to everyone around her. Surprisingly, Chloé was the one that made her react. Literally slapping her to make her come back from the dead. (Not entirely, though. Mei, the Gothamite part of her, stayed dead with Jason. Only Marinette, the nice little parisian, came back.)

“I don’t really know what’s up with you, Dupain-Cheng,” she had said while Marinette cradled her sore cheek, her faux-contempt badly hiding her worry. “But you need to put yourself together. Tormenting you is no fun if you don’t react to it, and people are too worried for you to be afraid of me. Don’t make me call daddy on you.”

“I…” She had started, only to stop herself. She had looked back at Nino and Kim, both of whom were looking at her with poorly concealed worry. “Yeah, sorry Chloé.”

She pulled herself out of the worst of it after that, at the obvious relief of the people around her. None of which even knew why she was in this state. She still cried herself to sleep most nights, and sometimes felt like someone gouged out her heart with their bare hands, but she also started to let herself think of the good times. Started to let herself feel the good things happening around her, in the present.

Then, she saved the life of an old man, found magic earrings and a bug-mouse-kwami in her room that told her that she needed to become a hero and save Paris.

She thought of her big brother, of how he would always protect her when someone tried to rob them. Hide her, before even thinking of himself, when the cops would chase them down, trying to bring them back to Elliot's Hall. Give her all the food when they couldn’t get enough for the both of them. How he was a hero. Her Hero. And, really, there was only one thing she could say to that.

“Tikki, spots on!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

So. That's it. That was fun. I'm going to sleep now, goodnight.

Btw, Jason's super plan that day was totaly to steal the Batmobile's tires.

#maribat #mlb x dc #gothamite marinette #street kid marinette #platonic jasonette #probably a timari btw #timinette if that's how you call it #4am me decided to post it #2pm me could decide to delete it tho

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crab-in-a-pocket · 3 years

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Maybeeee the bachelors and their crush with a playful back and forth teasing and flirting relationship? They just don't admit they like each other yet but its fairly obvious, and one day their crush just straight up admits they like them. How would the boys deal with that?

guess who's back bitchez!! thanks for the ask, anon, this was really fun to write :D brief hiatus over btw!! i'm back in business <33 seems short but i wrote this on my phone and i have no way to tell if it really is short or not but i hope yall enjoy nonetheless !! i'll edit it and add a "read more" sometime later when the wifi isnt as crappy on my laptop because the tumblr app is horseshit

tw: swearing

alex:

ok, wow, that was blunt and bold and super super hot

you two werre always pretty damn flirty but this is-- this is WOW

fucking speechless. eyes are flickering from your determined face, the bouquet in your hand, your suddenly extremely kissable lips (the kissability has been quadrupled due to this unforeseen circumstance)

he really didn't see it coming and nearly dropped one of his weights on his foot

he has no doubt about it because he can read the expressions on your face really well and damn it if you're fucking with him

but you're not and the bouquet in your outstretched hand is a little bit right in his face and his view of you is slightly obscured by the flowers

he plucks it from your hands, tosses it on his bed, takes you by the waist and kisses the living daylights out of you

sweetest shit ever but you are now alex's blunt translator

it's not a bad job, you get kisses for it

sam:

blush, blush, blush

ok, you two flirt exorbitantly but he has never blushed so hard in his life and... neither have you

nearly drops his guitar on his toes mid-jam

okay, you just BARGED in outta nowhere, regardless of your intentions, he gets startled

his mind registers your words and the bouquet and holy crap

you're standing in the middle of his bedroom, a little hot and sweaty from a typical day's work, holding a bouquet in your hands with a determined look in your face

sam's 70% sure he's in love when you tell him that you like like him and the sparkle in your eyes when he says "i'm in like with you, too" makes him feel like he's on cloud 9

he puts down his guitar, takes a flower from your bouquet, tucks it behind your ear, and then kisses you, slow and soft and so very heartfelt

is the one who goes on a tangent about how you confessed to him because he thinks it's the sweetest and coolest thing ever

sebastian:

surprised pikachu

he's awkward but he knows that all your flirting was leading somewhere

when you handed him the bouquet, a determined but strangely uncertain look in your eyes, he was so fucking relieved

so, he originally planned to confess to you in an unspeakably cheesy way

and THANK YOBA that you've saved him from himself

so, he just gets up from his desk, takes the bouquet and places it atop his computer and pulls you in a tight embrace

then, he kisses you. this part is surprisingly romantic-- he places his hand under your chin and presses the softest, lightest kiss on your lips, soft as a feather

he has a bright, endearing blush on his face and he could certainly say the same for you

he privately tells you some details about how he was going to confess but he stops after you fall over laughing

dork but he takes your sudden confession like a fucking champ

shane:

poor boy is wondering if you're fucking with him until he realizes you two are alone and the hint of hestitation on your face and the bright bouquet has him REELING

so, you really aren't joking or anything

i mean, you two teased each other and flirted a lot and he was usually on the receiving end of it so he takes everything you say with a healthy pinch of salt

he wants to ask you "what's that bouquet for?" in a calm, casual voice but when he says it, his voice is unusually quiet and strained

he didn't hear what you said and so you repeat it: "i like you. romantically. do you like me back? i mean, you don't have to tell me right now, you can think on it--"

shane very nearly tackles you. he hugs you so, so tightly, the bouquet crushed between your chests. and he tells you that yeah, i like you back.

and you two are kissing, kissing, kissing in his coop, charlie clucking at your feet and his blue chickens clucking in confusion

harvey:

confuzzled at the sight of the bouquet until you flat-out tell him that you like like him

his face just drains of color and you stop in the middle of your ramble, asking him if he doesn't feel the same way and if he's ok

he reassures you with a faint voice that, yes, he feels the same way but he also says that he thinks he's having an out of body experience and needs to have a quick lie-down

ok, wow, you actually like him and you are no longer just going to tease and flirt non-stop because you two are going to be an actual couple holy shit

you're bewildered but elated so you acquiesce and help him onto his doctor's bed, a concerned look on your face all the while

so you're just sitting next to harvey, tentatively stroking his hair while he has his out of body experience

he comes to a little later then sits up and asks you if he can kiss you. you beam and lean in for a kiss, soft and slow and so, very sure

elliot:

speechless. has Zero words for the way he's feeling right now and he is just so damn happy but he keeps opening his mouth like a fish in a tank because he keeps thinking of something to say but it's not enough

like, DUDE, he's used to your sly flirtations, innuendos, and suggestive smiles not... you being a mumbling, blushing mess.

he was super surprised when you walked in, holding a colorful bouquet of random flowers and shoving it at him, mumbling something so quickly he failed to catch it the first time

"i... what?"

"oh for the love of yoba, i said i like you romantically."

speechless, fucking speechless. so, he does the next best thing instead of talking. he takes you in his arms and pulls you in for soft, tender kiss

he deepens the kiss and presses you against the wall-- there really are times when actions speak louder than words

#sdv hcs #sdv headcanons #stardew headcanons #stardew hcs #sdv alex #sdv sam #sdv sebastian #sdv shane #sdv harvey #sdv elliot #stardew valley #asks open #stardew valley hcs #sdv bachelors #stardew bachelors

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camslightstories · 3 years

Text

Tolerate it - Part 5

Lena Luthor x reader, Kara Danvers x reader, Alex Danvers x reader. Baby Danvers.

Notes: I’m so sorry! I haven't updated in the last couple days, they have been erratic, I have been so much homework and my family is not the easiest. I apologize for it. But the good thing is that I wrote two chapter in less than 24 hours, and the next one would be up tomorrow.

I hope you guys enjoy it, and if you have any feedback, comment or request, I will accepted gladly. I know my writing isn't the best but I hope you guys like it. I’m also going to repost my favorite stories from other writers and I will be asking for request, so if you have one just hit me up. Have a great day, guys!

Taglist: @multi-images

Continuation

Tears running down through your cheeks, and raindrops hitting your body, as you walked through the streets of National City. The rainstorm seems to get worse, and you didn't notice. You walked slowly as millions of questions invaded your head.

Since the moment you walked out of the apartment, your mind went blank as everything that had happened seconds before came back to you. You were soaked in rain, and every time a thunder would make their presence known you would flinch. The lights of the cars were the only thing that illuminated the streets as you walked with the smell of the wet ground.

With every single question and doubt, a memory would cross your mind. Your first date. Your first kiss. Your first sleepover. Your first Gala. Your first morning together. Your first time. Your first Christmas. Your first Anniversary. Your first day after moving in. All of it.

Your clouded mind tried to make sense of the situation. Fears and insecurities crashing into you as you tried to gather your thoughts, trying to get Lena out of your head. But you couldn't, you didn't want to admit it, but you didn't want to.

Lena was the person who brings out the best of you, Lena who with a soft smile would have you happily cheering the whole day. Lena who was in every step of the way when you failed in every possible way. Lena who will hug you protectively at night making you sleep as peaceful as you ever could. Lena who shared her home with you after 1 year and a half of dating. Lena who made all your insecurities go away. Lena who received every present you gave her even if it wasn't at her status. Lena who made you feel saved and loved after so long.

Lena who became your everything. Lena who became the light of your life. Lena who you would wait hours even though you were tired just to see her. Lena who made you become a morning person, so you could just make her coffee as she gets ready for work so you could see her smile before leaving. Lena who would be running up and down through your head at every second of the day.

Lena who somehow fixed you without you even noticing, and now without noticing broke you beyond repair again. You had felt so lost when you lost your dad, you thought that was going to be the worst moment and feeling of your life. But little did you know that when the love of your life, loves someone else and you choose to leave for her to be happy was going to be your downfall.

Weren't you enough?

Was Kara always the one she wanted?

Was all of it a temporal fill for her?

Was all of the loving and caring a facade?

Were you ever not gonna be enough for anything?

Why would this happen to you?

Weren't you broken enough?

Why did the universe decide that this was your life?

As the thoughts kept your head running you found yourself staring at your job place. It was quiet and dark, lights were off and all of the stores except for the bar downstreet were closed. You went through the back door leaning into it, trying to calm yourself down, even though it was not possible. All you could feel was pain and not a pain that with some pills was going to go away.

You walked inside and noticed that somehow the silence and the darkness of the place had taunted you for so long, but you didn't recognize it. That feeling of scariness you didn't recognize for a long time.

For a moment you opened the phone in your hand, tears rolling down the screen as you did. The Danvers Christmas photo with Lena, Maggie, and Jonn was in the background, all of you smiling like a family. You couldn't help to feel selfish when the only wish you had was to keep your relationship with Lena. But you knew you couldn’t, you knew the moment you decide to be selfish the happiness and the well being of the most important people for you would be at risk.

You lifted your glance from your phone, finding paper and pens in which you annotated the customized orders. You remembered how when you were kids and Kara had just arrived on Earth, you guys watched Harry Potter making you and Kara complete nerds for it. You guys decided to write each other letters to communicate, and since Kara was still learning English it worked great. After a few years, Alex became part of the writing, so it became a thing until Alex and Kara both left for college.

You grabbed the pen with trembling hands, shaky breath, and soft salted tears coming from your eyes. You stared at the paper as you cleaned your tearful eyes. You wrote for each one of them, and as you kept going, each one would get harder.

The pain runned through your veins until you had finally fallen asleep in one of the chairs. Soaked in rain, and makeup stains under your eyes and cheeks. Your breathing had become erratic the moment you walked out of the apartment. Whimpering as you slept on the chair.

The sunlight came through the window of the bakery. The sound of the door opening and closing woke you up. The noise frightened you. The scare made you fall to the floor, hitting your head and shoulder first.

You said but were interrupted when the voice of your boss called you out. Rubbing your temples as you now felt the pain coming back.“Freaking-”

“Danvers? What are you doing here?” JJ said as she heard your complaint. Her tone was somewhat cold and worried.

You looked up to see your boss, staring right back at you. With judging eyes, examining every single part of your face. The bags under your eyes, the ruined makeup that runned through your cheeks. The way your eyes were red and looked exhausted from crying. You looked so broken, exhausted, crushed, lost. You looked like a little girl who had just lost everything in her life.

“I knew that Luthor would leave you like this, she is just as bad-” She claimed as she rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

You interrupted, yelling. You felt your blood boiled, Lena was everything to you, and you wouldn't let anyone talk badly about her. Especially if they are comparing to her family, that line nobody should cross, Lena was good, strong, and so many things, that not even the world deserved her. “Don't you dare to talk about Lena like that!”

“Danvers! Open your eyes, look at you!” She exclaimed as she waved her hand pointing at you.

You murmured, as you got up and tried to clean your clothes only to find them still wet the night before. “I’m fine”

The brunette looked at you in misbelief, before she commented, walking closer to you.“No, you are not, you are a broken little girl lost because you trusted a Luthor”

“Lena is not like her family!” You exclaimed as you furrowed your eyes. Thoughts came into your mind, saying your boss was right. Lena had done the same thing Barry, Lucy and you Dad did.

“Yes, she is! She fits into the Luthor family profile perfectly-” She said, snapping you out of your thoughts,

“She is everything good in this world. And I will not let you speak of ger like that!” You yelled as you slammed both of your hands on the table, with irritation before pointing your finger at her threatly.

After a few seconds of both of you losing your cool, JJ pinched her nose, before looking at you madly. “Okay then, did you sleep here?”

“I'm gonna take that as a yes, and without any further you are fired, get out of my bakery” You kept quiet, and avoided her glance in irritance. She looked at you and scoffed

“JJ? Please come on-” You resonated but the brunette just shocked her head before pointing at the door.

“You broke the contract, you slept in the workplace, and most importantly you are not in shape working here, Danvers” She responded with a cold voice.

“You can't be serious” You shake your head with a sad smile, joking. You couldn't lose it, not after you lost everything.

“I am and leave before I call the police” You looked at her in disbelief, as the last straw of the cup came out.

You walked out of the bakery with tears. Cleaning them with your sleeves as you entered the jewelry shop. You have visited millions of times, with hope and happiness in your chest.

“Hello, Mr. Rogers,” You said as you walked inside, seeing the old man in the chair reading the newspaper.

“Good morning, Y/N. A beautiful morning isn't it?” He responded as he got up to hug you.

Mr. Rogers had become somehow a therapist during the last two years, you would come into the jewelry shop and ramble about your day after paying a part for the ring you were fancying for Lena.

You murmured as you pulled away, putting on your best facade. “Yeah”

The nickname, Mr. Rogers had put on you after you came with Maggie to help her with their wedding rings, and made a sad smile on your face. “How can I help you, baby Danvers?

You avoided his glance for a few seconds, before looking him in the eye, as you felt your eyes grow tired and wet.“Mr. Rogers, I want to return the ring”

“Are you sure? Y/N, you've been paying this ring for two years now, and all the money will take me at least two days to return it to you” The man spoke as he looked at you worried.

You commented, your voice breaking at the middle of the sentence.“Yes I'm sure, Mr. Rogers, please just give all the money to the orphanage”

“Miss. Y/N-” The old man noticed and went to speak up. But you interrupted him cleaning your tears and taking a deep breath.

You said cutting him off, trying to evade the conversation. “Please don't, Mr. Rogers. Please don't”

“Can you give these to my Alex, the next time you see her?” The old man hugged you, of pity and worries. And you started to walk away before you put 5 letters on the counter giving him the best facade you could.

He responded nodding, putting the letters behind the register.“Yes, as you wish Y/N”

“Goodbye, Mr. Rogers. Thank you for everything” You concluded before walking out of the store, as tears began to flow freely. The feeling of everything slipping away remained and became stronger. You felt lost, broken, numb, without anything or anyone.

The walk to your and Lena’s shared penthouse, well now Lena’s penthouse felt longer than it already was. Your mind and heart with throbbed pain, that felt any never-ending. You walked through the streets with your head down, since every time you would lookup. You would see something that would remind you of Lena.

Your heart ached as you waited outside of the Penthouse building. Mr. Smith waited in the car, as Lena came down to go to LCorp as any other day. Dressed in the green shirt of your first date, black heels, a black skirt, and a perfectly done ponytail. You watched as she looked like nothing had happened.

Your heartaches, as she looks normal. Like if nothing had affected her. Tears began to come out, so you walked to the inside parking of the building, and entered it by the garage door.

The only light on the apartment was in the kitchen. The cold air of the penthouse occupied the penthouse. The silence was the only thing that could be heard.

The penthouse was perfectly decorated for you and Lena. There were photos of the two of you hanging around, photos with the superfriends, and with your mom and sisters. There wasn't much color in the apartment it still felt like home. Blankets and Pillows on the couch hanging for comfort.

Pain and memories flowed into you, as you walked through the penthouse. Every Single Part of the apartment had space in your memory. You walked slowly to where the pictures were hung, and each one in where you stood took them away. The moment you went to remove the picture of your’s and Lena’s anniversary, everything came crashing down.

This time, it felt heavier, it felt stronger, it felt real. Your heartache was slowly consuming you from the inside out. It felt like a never stopping pain. It felt like an avalanche of emotions, angriness, emptiness, heartbreak, sadness. It felt surreal, you couldn't even make out the events of last night, neither less your feelings.

As the time passed your doubts, and insecurities crowded your mind as you worked your way into collecting your things. And somehow in the makeup for excuses for Kara and Lena, you worked extremely well. Taking only the things that strictly belonged to you.

Boxes slowly began to crowd the living room, and your bottling feelings began to count down when you noticed there wasn't anything else to pack. Pain caught your throat, and tears invaded your eyes, as the last boxes were closed.

You glanced around the penthouse when you felt your breathing getting heavier, and the wall closing in. But there wasn't anything that could help you, there was only pain, in every inch of the place.

You slide down the wall of the kitchen as the feelings sunk in. Tears flowed out of your eyes and small nonsense of crying would come out of your mouth. You let them flow in, you let them destroy you, you let them cause pain. You couldn't do anything, not because you weren't capable, but because you couldn't hurt your own family.

Avalanches of emotions came and went away in the question of minutes, and somewhere around the way, you had found yourself the courage to face reality. To get up and do the right thing.

Your phone rang the moment the UBER was downstairs waiting for you. You closed your eyes, gaining all of the courage you had, to close the door and walk away.

With now a change of casual clothes, you walked inside LCorp and found Jess as fast as you could, without seeing your ex-girlfriend. The brunette young woman looked at you with a smile, before she spoke up. “Miss Y/N, Miss Luthor is available”

“I'm not here to see, Lena. Jess” You said as you walked to her desk with a yellow envelope, in which the keys of the penthouse were.

The Latine woman, looked at you confused before she commented “Then how can I be of your assistance, Miss Danvers?”

With a sad smile, you responded. Avoiding her glance.“Please don't call me Miss Danvers Jess, feels like I'm Kara or my mom”

You took a second to gather the courage, before putting the envelope on her desk, taking a deep breath.“Also, I'm just here to give you this, so you could give it to Lena”

“I hope you the best, Jess” The Brunette caught your meaning and the situation. Putting dots together when she saw the small tear coming from your eye, as you tried to keep up with your posture. She nodded and let you go without any other explanation.

Walking out of the LCorp building was harder than you thought, the feeling of regret and heartbreak began to creep out of your chest, as you felt the tears coming out. You were leaving for them, so they could be happy, and they could be okay. And you would do it all over again.

Crowded streets, sunlighted days, food overwhelm, the technology used, and superheroes capes, was what made National City. And even when you experience the most bearable moments of the city, you never once saw it fall down. Thanks to a lot of good people, including Lena Luthor and Kara Zor-El, and they deserved each other, and you couldn't get in the way of that.

Some places feel at home temporarily. But the truth is that home can be anything. A place, a memory, a thing, a person. Sooner or later we find our way home. But for various reasons, you don't feel like you would find a home. Not even a light out of the tunnel that the universe has put on your way.

#lena luthor x reader #lena luthor #supergirl imagine #kara danvers x reader #alex danvers x reader #baby danvers

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t4t-lumpygrab · 2 years

Text

rambling about my Croak Dream fanfic and lemongrab 1 and 2′s relationship:

edit: here’s the actual fic link lol

also I just hope it’s clear in my fanfic that I do NOT subscribe to the idea that lg2 was treated better than their sibling, or raised with more love. Lg1 was a very unstable and volatile person to be around, especially when you think about them having to share child rearing responsibilities with the lemon children (what I think the lemon sweets argument was largely symbolic of). And any preferential treatment they were given by pb would have been a) conditional and dependent on them fulfilling the role they were created for. Like they were created for the sole purpose of making their brother happy and keeping him out of trouble, that’s an unfair expectation and also doesn’t leave any room for them to become their own person OR leave any room for them to speak up about being abused or mistreated by their sibling. So any positive treatment they got was dependent on other people overlooking the abuse and not recognising them as a person outside how useful they were as a tool for keeping their brother out of people’s way. (In addition pb being careless in her treatment of them is something that causes a huge rift between lemongrab 1 and 2 in my fic, not saying lg1′s behaviour is her fault he is his own fucked up little guy BUT there is this idea in the fandom that pb loved lg2 more and I wanted to explain my complicated thoughts on this idea, because essentially I disagree)

and b) any preferential treatment pb showed them ultimately meant nothing because she still neglected them to an overwhelming degree, to the point where lg2 was being physically abused in horrific ways and she had no idea. And after learning this she basically abandoned them and made Lemonhope deal with it.

like the reason I’m bringing this up is because even though this is what I think about the character, none of this is openly stated in my fic because it’s not how the characters see their own situation. Lemongrab 1 is convinced that his sibling is having a better time than he is because of his own jealousy, incorrect perception of how he treats them, and projection of his insecurities. In addition, he doesn’t fully view lg2 as a person because they were created FOR him as a companion, so he views them as an extension of himself and also as a toy he can do w/e wants to because their personhood doesn’t really matter. And lg2 doesn’t realise they are being abused because they’re being manipulated by the people around them, and also this sort of treatment is all they’ve ever known.

And yeah there is a certain level of understanding and love between them. and they do have positive memories of each other and have had “better times” but that’s because painting abusive dynamics as immediately recognisable as abusive, and as entirely negative leaves out that lovebombing is an abuser tactic, and that abusive relationships will often have nice patches, or times when the abuse temporarily ceases. And abusers do this to convince their victims to stick around for the good parts. So lg2 romanticising times their siblings was nice to them is something that should be taken with a pinch of salt basically.

Anyway that’s all. I just have a lot of thoughts on their dynamic and while I want to write the characters and their feelings accurately I also want to explain how I actually see them. Basically don’t take what a fictional character says or thinks about themselves or other people at face value lmao there is other stuff going on that they aren’t aware of or are unable to see bc of their issues.

#my writing #croak dream #analysis #cw abuse #charliecore #lemongrab 2 #lemongrab 1

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shijiujun · 3 years

Text

okay so with shl right, i was gonna do a round up post like way later because gifs come first hahaha but nvm since i’m already mostly through like 34 and have left 35-36 and a bit of 37, here’s my hot take on the ending that you can take with a pinch of salt!

it’s just i’ve seen so many hot takes recently and some stranger than others, especially the one where ppl try to snake their way through the ‘WKX did not die!!!!’ part

ALSO article that was trending on Weibo today had the title:

“SHL actually BE! HE in the special! You buy Wen Kexing’s life back with 3 yuan!”

i’ve seen quite a lot of ppl saying that no one said WKX died in the end XD so it’s not a BE - technically not wrong. in the last monologue by YBY overlaying WKX’s sadass flashback and shit, he does indeed not say anything about the person having to give up his life BUT- seriously semantics. and since when because a direct word isn’t used =/= death? you get what i mean?

it’s pointless to say the word ‘die’ or ‘dead’ wasn’t used which = he didn’t die. this is really the saddest argument i have ever seen. i’m pretty sure we’ve all got a tad bit more creativity in prose and tropes and metaphors and what not.

Exchanging a life for someone else 要用你的性命去换

1. YBY first off asked WKX if he was willing to use his life in exchange for Zhou Zishu’s. It is exactly what he said. This is exactly what the phrase means - you don’t give up your life in exchange and continue living. That’s not how to phrase works, well at least most of the time as far as I’ve seen the phrase being used.

2. WKX was prepared to die. His dialogue and flashback, him deceiving ZZS into thinking that this would be a happy, safe procedure that would do WKX no harm. I mean... it is portrayed that he is ready to die in exchange for ZZS. He said, “The one who keeps on living is the one who’ll live in pain.”

for all purposes, WKX and YBY knew WKX was gonna die. There really is no arguing with this.

of course, did the SCRIPTWRITER intend for it to be that way, who knows? Yes, ZZS did grab onto WKX twice and symbolically he “held on” and kept him from dying or there are theories that WKX was more powerful and managed to escape any deadly effects, or even some wild ones where YBY comes in somehow to save WKX after. Been there, read a dozen of theories.

i’m saying it’s a BE because YBY sent WKX there to die in ZZS’ stead. That’s what that sentence means. OF COURSE whether YBY had some backup plan in the works we don’t know right, but the end of 36 was gut wrenching because WKX was there to die. His speech showed that he was there to die.

if you didn’t have a dollar to spare and didn’t see leaks you would have thought it is a BE, and because it WAS set up as a BE. we all definitely would have tried to convince ourselves that it’s an ‘open’ ending - but you can’t deny that at the end of 36, the grief and anguish on ZZS face, and WKX being non-responsive, AND also the rest of the episode not mentioning them. it was a BE set up.

cast said they did film two endings (or more, according to GJ, but can we trust him he’s such a clumsy dumb dumb hahaha), they didn’t say it was both HE.

my point to this is that, yes, yay we got the HE in the end, after some erm surrender to capitalistic evil, but i do still think that they went full on BE with 36. they set it up right there, just looking at it. we don’t know what goes on in between or after because we are never shown, and don’t tell me yall have zero confusion as to how he’s still alive.

this ain’t me trying to convince you that it was a BE, it is me trying to say that I feel it is a BE, so don’t come and try convince me otherwise hahaha like i’ve seen in comments lmaooo to my incoherent ramble post last night after the finale. i ain’t trying to deter you from thinking it’s a HE or open ending or shit - although i honestly stand by the fact that the comments of “no one used the word dead or die!! he not dead!!” are a tad bit ridiculous if that’s what you’re going on XD

most of yall thought he was dead okay?! yes open ending, yes eventual HE in 37, but 36 was a bitch. it was a bitch of a BE and i’m standing by it HAHAHA. i still can’t look at white-haired, teary eyed WKX saying his goodbye to ZZS in that scene okay, it was a thorough BE.

is there a point to arguing whether 36 was a BE or not since there was 37? perhaps not, but aren’t yall curious how he survived? if you’re curious, that’s exactly it, that’s exactly the point XD if it wasn’t a BE we wouldn’t be wondering WHERE IS WKX XD

#shl spoilers #rambles #36 hurts like a raw BE does #because that's what it is HAHAHA #shl #woh

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sgtjbbhasmyheart · 3 years

Text

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Two

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2921

Warnings: bad language words, blink and you’ll miss the angst, just some fluff

A/N: divider credit- @firefly-graphics

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission

You awoke with a start, feeling as if you were late for work or something important and forgot to set your alarm. Your heart beat an erratic tattoo against your ribcage. Scrambling for your cell phone, you blindly reached across the side table near your bed in a panic. Unplugging the phone, you brought the device an ungodly closeness to your face. It was only 6:17. On Saturday.

Your pulse throbbed behind your eyeballs, and a strange stickiness coated the inside of your mouth. Did you drink that much last night?

How could you not? Timmons was a fair boss, and you enjoyed your job, but that dude loved the sound of his own voice.

The quarterly business dinners were mandatory for all employees, even for the P.A.s. Typically, they weren’t so bad, but last night, Timmons felt the need to toot his own horn for landing a massive contract with Stark Industries slash The Avengers. He went on and on about how great it was for the firm.

He was like a giant kid in a candy store with his ramblings. ‘We will be promoting the face of The Avengers and everything that goes with it,’ he spouted off like the firm was god’s gift to public relations.

You groaned at the reminder of last night’s presentation. The contract wasn’t even in effect yet, and you were sick of the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Timmons could be a real buzz kill.

Rolling to your back, you brought your phone up to tap the screen to read the emails you received overnight. On display was a text from 11:04 by someone named James. It read: “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

Your mind went back to last night again, trying to recall who this James was. He must be significant if you plugged his contact information into your phone already. Had you met someone last night?

Drawing a blank, you clicked on the text bubble to pull up the thread. Briefly scanning through the numerous texts, everything came rushing back. In an attempt to text your sister, Robyn, you mistakenly texted this mysterious, James.

You felt like an utter buffoon when you learned he wasn’t Robyn. You always did have a way with the cute boys. Probably why you were single. You groaned out loud as you read on.

You im safely inside my apartment. Pretty sure no one followed me home

James Did you triple check the lock on the front door?

You yes dad yeesh

James There are a lot of bad people out there. Just want to make sure you’re safe.

You sounds like you watch the news too much but its sweet of u to care

James I know from experience.

You r u the bad guy or have u been the one mugged?

James Let’s just say I have friends that have dealt with the bad things of the world.

You right i almost forgot ur a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie

James Did you ever send your sister a text?

You shit thanks for reminding me i have such a crazy story to tell her

James Only good things, I hope.

You oh yeah all the good things an enigmatic yet handsome stranger cares more about my safety than any of my ex-boyfriends ever did.

James My ma raised me right.

You id say

James_ I hate to cut this short, but I think you need your rest. Especially if you’re meeting your sister tomorrow._

You i dont want to agree but ur probably right

You whats ur name btw?

James My name? Why? Do you plan to continue texting me after tonight?

You duh ur fun to talk to

James Oh.

You or not its cool if u dont want to

James It’s James.

You nice to meet u james im (y/n)

James Nice to meet you as well.

You my sister just texted me back and were still meeting at 9 i should go

You goodnite james

James Goodnight, (Y/N).

Oh. My. God. Had you seriously drunk-flirted with a stranger and offered to keep texting him? You had no shame with a few drinks in you.

You brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose and sighed loudly.

What did you know of this James? He had a New York area phone number. Check. He could have been a real dick about your mistake but wasn’t. Understanding. Check. He worried about you getting home safely in your inebriated state. Caring. Check. Not too forthcoming with the nine to five. Secretive. Check. His mouth looked so soft and plush, and his eyes were made to drown in. Gorgeous. Check.

A heat simmered beneath your skin as you recounted the shortlist you’d made. Were you lusting over someone you’d exchanged less than forty texts with? Had you somehow woken back up in high school?

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you stared at the screen displaying the message thread. Were you really considering this? You nodded your head to answer your own question. Where was the harm in a little shameless flirting? If worse came to worst, you could always block him.

With your mind made up, you began typing into your phone, constructing an apology.

You Good morning! First off, I want to apologize for the way I behaved over text last night.

You Though, I do like to imbibe in the occasional drink or two, I am, by no means, a lush.

You Please take everything I said with a grain of salt. Apparently, I get loose-lipped and cheeky with free wine. 😐

You Again, I’m sorry and understand if you wanted to cease our correspondence for my behavior.

You blew out a breath and tossed your phone aside. It was up to fate now and a stranger named James.

You laid in your bed for several minutes staring at the ceiling, contemplating between whether to send a ‘haha just kidding’ text and what the weather would be like, so you could forego shaving your legs in the shower today.

Your phone chimed during the pondering of hair removal, indicating a new text. You knew it was James proclaiming you a freak and to forget his number, but secretly, you hoped it was Robyn canceling today.

Seizing the phone from your mattress top, your heart’s beat increased with each second you went without looking at the screen. Finding the courage, you flipped the device over to read the message.

James Quite the formal apology, Ms. Professor.

You smiled at the text. It didn’t tell you to pound sand or eat shit. No, it was teasing and in jest. You sighed in relief.

You Cease our correspondence too much?

James No, no it was perfect if this was 1863, and you were breaking up with me via telegraph.

You Stop!

James Exactly! ‘Never speak to me again!’ Stop. ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’ Stop.

A belly laugh disrupted the tranquil air of your bedroom. You quickly thumbed out a reply once you caught your breath.

You You’re incorrigible.

James I’m glad to see you are using proper capitalization and punctuation this morning.

You Ha!

You When you are buzzed and/or tipsy, capitals and periods be damned. Like you’re so perfect when you’re drunk.

James We all have our flaws.

Was he implying he was a sloppy texter when drunk, too? You shrugged it off as him being cryptic again.

You What are you doing up so early on a Saturday? I didn’t wake you, did I?

You were suddenly stricken with guilt. You should have waited for a more reasonable hour to send out rapid-fire apology texts. Not at 6:36 in the morning. You didn’t want last night’s behavior hanging over you, though. Better to clear the air now than later. You could always ask for forgiveness again if you had disturbed his sleep.

James I had just gotten back from my run when I saw your texts. I have training this morning.

You Oh, right. For your hush-hush, super top secret mission/quidditch game.

You You ever gonna tell me what you really do?

James_ Maybe. Someday._

How far away was someday? Was he planning to text you until you both died or until he got bored? How did texting relationships even work?

You Or is it one of those situations where if you told me you’d have to kill me?

James ��

You There you go again--being all mysterious.

James Keep ‘em guessing and coming back for more.

You Has that strategy worked well for you in the past?

James Got you to text me again this morning, didn’t it?

You scoffed at what he had suggested. He was correct, but your stubborn streak would deny everything.

You The only reason I texted you this morning was to apologize for acting like a drunken fool last night.

And to squash the curiosity burning in your veins. But he didn’t need to know that.

James Oh.

The reply caused you to furrow your brow and your stomach to drop. You regretted not adding more levity to your last text. Of course, it wasn’t the only reason you were drawn to him.

You I appreciate that the selfie you sent wasn’t a dick pic. And you genuinely seemed to care about me getting home safely. Thank you.

You And maybe- a teeny, tiny bit- is honestly interested in getting to know you better.

You waited on pins and needles for his text, watching the pulsing ellipsis on your screen. Was he just humoring you?

James Hook. Line. Sinker.

Reading his response generated a flush from your jaw to your hairline. You growled in embarrassment. You fell for the oldest trick in the book. He baited you for a compassionate answer, and you delivered beautifully. Hook, line, and sinker, indeed.

You You’re an ass. I take everything back.

James Don’t be mad. I wasn’t sure how it was going to go, but you played into my trap wonderfully.

James If it makes you feel any better, all kidding aside, I want to get to know you better too.

James I fell asleep with a smile on my face last night and woke up with one this morning.

James Because of you, (Y/N).

A flutter broke apart in your chest. You hadn’t time-traveled back to high school; no, this was junior high territory.

You You’re lucky you’re so damn charming, James.

James Doll, you have no idea.

The subway ride into Manhattan usually gave you the chance to get a little reading in since it took nearly fifty minutes from Queens. Not today, though. You spent the entirety of the train ride texting back and forth with James. It was mundane stuff, but you were getting a grasp of who James was as a person.

You Favorite color?

James Black. You?

You Blue.

You Favorite ice cream flavor?

James Chocolate. Yours?

You Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia.

James I didn’t realize we were getting specific.

You We weren’t, but that’s my favorite.

You Favorite movie?

James I like the classics- The Wizard of Oz, It’s A Wonderful Life, Frankenstein.

You I have too many to list, so don’t ask.

You Okay. Lightning round because I’m almost to my stop.

James Where are you going again?

You paused your reply for a brief second, wondering if you should divulge your destination. You’d known James less than twenty-four hours; although, it felt like weeks after this morning. Where was the harm in telling him where you were meeting your sister? There were nearly nine million people in this city. There was no way you’d ever bump into each other.

You A bakery in the Upper East Side called Two Little Red Hens. Ever been?

James Don’t think I have.

You Well, since you like chocolate, they have a fantastic cake called Brooklyn Blackout. Super rich but delicious.

James Sounds right up my alley.

You Cats or dogs?

James I’m gone too much, so cats.

The answer piqued your interest. Maybe he was an athlete. Wouldn’t it be practice and not training, though? Or he’s FBI or CIA.

You Socks on or off for sleeping?

James Off.

You Silver or gold?

James Silver.

You Morning, noon, or night?

James Night.

You How do you take your coffee?

James Room for sugar and creamer.

You Boxers or briefs?

James Boxer briefs.

You laughed out loud, looking around the subway car to see if anyone was paying attention to you. Per usual, they weren’t.

You Touché.

As soon as the train stopped, you gathered your purse close to your body and made for the exit. You followed the crowd of fellow passengers through the turnstile and ascended the stairs onto street level.

The morning sunlight caressed your skin like a warm blanket. The humidity wasn’t too bad, yet, but the threat of afternoon thunderstorms still hung in the air.

Even with the reasonably early hour, the sidewalk was stuffed with people, carrying to-go coffee cups or shopping bags. You fought for your little spot of real estate on the grimy concrete.

Stopping at a red traffic light, waiting to cross, you typed out another question for James.

You Pineapple on pizza--yay or nay?

The light changed as you finished, and the throng of pedestrians around you guided you across the street. You spotted Robyn outside the bakery as your phone dinged with a new text alert.

“Wow, I’m surprised you made it on time,” Robyn said as you hugged hello.

You looked at the clock on your phone. 8:58. “You and me both, sister.” Glancing back at your phone’s screen, you giggled.

James What kind of monster puts pineapple on their pizza??

“What’s so funny?” Robyn asked as you accompanied her through the bakery’s door.

With a grin on your face, you punched out a quick reply:

You Well, it was nice knowing you, James. It was a swell friendship while it lasted--a whole 11 ½ hours.

Robyn elbowed you softly in the ribs with a look on her face, seeking an explanation.

“Ow,” you grunted. “What?”

“You tell me. I half expected a zombie to walk through the doors today after your text last night. Not Suzie Sunshine.”

You both edged closer to the counter as the line in front of you dwindled.

James Say it ain’t so, doll! Pineapple on pizza? Really??

You let out a low chortle as you skimmed the text. You glimpsed up at Robyn as you shuffled forward in line again. “Believe me, I’m pretty hungover,” you replied, shoving your phone in your back pocket. “It’s a funny story. I’ll tell you everything when we sit.”

Robyn stared at you warily, still trying to figure out what had come over you. “Okay,” she conceded, stepping to the register to order.

With each of you supplied with an iced coffee and a peach ginger scone, you found an empty table by a window along 2nd Avenue and proceeded to tell Robyn about James.

When you stopped to catch your breath, remembering the whirlwind the last twelve hours had been, you peered at your sister for her reaction.

She stared at you like you’d grown a second head. She shook her head in disbelief. “(Y/N), what where you thinking?”

Your brow pinched in confusion. Was she actually scolding you? You crossed your arms over your chest. “I was thinking about how my big sister is always telling me to meet new people and how it’s time I thought about settling down.”

“Not like this it’s not,” she hissed. “This is how your body parts end up in someone’s freezer!”

You choked on the piece of scone you shoved in your mouth before she started ridiculing you. After coughing to clear your airway and taking a sip of your iced coffee, you leered at Robyn. “Oh, my god! Dramatic much? Have you been binge-watching Dateline again? Jesus Christ, Robyn, he’s harmless,” you countered.

“You think you’ll be so careful, but you’ll let one little detail slip, and he’ll find you,” Robyn said before taking a pull from her coffee.

“You mean, like, how I was meeting you at Two Little Red Hens at nine o’clock?”

Robyn’s mouth popped open in an O. “What the hell, (Y/N)?” she stage-whispered. “Are you trying to get yourself kidnapped and sold into sex trafficking?”

“Please,” you drew out in one long syllable. “He doesn’t know what I look like. How would he snatch me?”

“He could look you up on Facebook.”

“Without a last name?” You shook your head, no.

“What about a reverse search on your number?” Robyn asked, pushing the plate holding her scone away. “That’s a thing.”

“Perhaps, but it seems like a lot of effort for a mistake I made. It wasn’t like he was seeking me or anyone else out.”

Robyn huffed out a breath and folded her arms in exasperation. Always the protective big sister. You could tell you were breaking her down, though.

“C’ mon, Robbie. It’s all in innocent fun. I’m not saying I’m hoping he’ll turn out to be Mr. Right, but the banter is fun,” you remarked. “James is charming and witty and nice to talk to.”

Robyn shook her head once more, frowning. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

You reached across the table for her hand and squeezed gently. “Me too.” You smiled slyly, remembering last night’s dinner and Timmons gushing about The Avengers. “If not, I know how to get ahold of a couple of centenarians who know chivalry isn’t dead.”

Chapter One | Chapter Three

Tag List:

@hommoturttle @courtneychicken @vidzbyemz @vicmc624 @shawnie--jo @redbarn1995 @learisa @austynparksandpizza @ddowii

Send an ask to be added to the list!

#drunk texting is(n't) bad for your health #dtibfyh #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

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simplysummers · 3 years

Text

Hi :)

About a month ago I got a bunch of asks asking me to test my ‘dashboard osmosis’, and try to give a summary/brief paragraph about my thoughts on a few fandoms that I’ve seen floating around tumblr recently. Out of the six asks, I’m only involved in one of the fandoms, so please take this with a pinch of salt. All is meant in good fun and I’m not here to judge or ridicule anyone for their interests (I’m a Star Wars geek for goodness sakes, that’d be very hypocritical of me) I thought it would be easier to answer these all in one post, spare spamming my mutuals with my nonsensical ramblings.

@esquire-chicken

Hey bestie. I am HERE to deliver.

Okay so for the Loki fandom, I get the vibe a LOT of you are LGBT+, so many people have been raving about Loki being a confirmed bisexual and as much as I can’t stand this man (I’m sorry!!) I’m honestly here for it. We love to see the rep. I also saw lots of people raving about him being a confirmed hero, so, I guess that’s cool too? Yay?

I feel like this fandom can be a little defensive, which is highkey terrifying, but I suppose we all have our faves. But i want yall to drink some water and…idk play with chalk for an hour from time to time.

@treasureofmy-heart

I know absolutely NOTHING about Six of Crows, but from your dash I know that Jesper is a big favourite. He seems like a cool dude, maybe a bit mentally unstable but cool nonetheless. I like Wylan’s aesthetic! Is he gay? He seems kinda gay…. Oh and Nina is absolutely beautiful. I feel like everyone in the fandom fancies her but she’s just a powerhouse bitch who ain’t taking shit from anyone. I can’t really explain this but I feel like your fandom has some extremely talented artists. Like the art you’ve reblooged is phenomenal.

Hey anon 😎 I’m not going to lie I had to Google what the desticule was because I’m uncultured as fuck, and then I realised it’s related to Supernatural which I STILL know nothing about, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.

But I can safely say yall are BATSHIT INSANE AND I LOVE YALL FOR IT. didn’t you guys take over tumblr at one point??? Like weren’t people who hadnt even seen Supernatural spewing random facts like possessed puppets? Yall are demons and I just adore every single one of you for it. Didn’t that one guy Jensen steal the show or something? Like what an icon. I know nothing about him but I stan. You guys have my eternal gratitude just for existing.

@quillsink

Chandler should’ve been confirmed bisexual that is all I have to say. I know absolutely nothing about Joey but I am a Chanoey shipper through and through because of you. Like yes. Phoebe is a queen and I love her with every fibre to my being, I feel like she is an underappreciated icon and deserves more attention. Uhmmm let me thinkkkk, Ross is a questionable dude and not a lot of people like him, aaaaand Monica needs a cup of coffee, as does half of your fandom :) I know this said more about the show rather than the fandom, but I feel as though these are common beliefs amongst you all.

@lirinck2

Bestie I have absolutely NO idea what this show is about but I LOVE their fashion sense, I feel like that’s a really big people pleaser amongst the fandom. A lot of the characters seem to have deep trauma from what I’ve seen, and I think that might resonate with a lot of its fans (lmao ‘cause same), alongside the fact it seems under appreciated and accepted in its time. The dark and eerie mystery settings give off a thriller fandom vibe, and I’m honestly intrigued. I legit want to watch this show. You’ve got me hooked.

Ahh last but certainly not least. I’m not going to touch upon the Hamilton fandom because my opinion in that regard is well known enough as it is, but for the amrev fandom, I can say 10000%, we are all absolutely fucking ridiculous (affectionately).

I mean, you have your factual posters like Amanda, Julia, Elle, Byrd, Sarah, Sev, and I (from time to time), alongside this you have your slightly loopy but absolutely loveable fanfic writers/artists like Ink, Hannah, Polly, Ray, Tori, Clair, Sofia, Rose, and Lin. We’re all quite vibey, a little crazy and very homosexual, but yknow, we get by.

*sigh* but then I bring thee down to….the shitposters who actually terrify me and deserve exorcisms; Kit, Lisa, Hayhay, every Alex ever, Su, Mellisa Tracyn, Jon, honestly this list is just endless here. Yall scare me and I’m actually in awe of that fact. We’re a very diverse fandom, as you can tell. You guys NEVER know what this bunch will come up with, they’re a ticking time bomb and it’s great, they keep us on our toes. Love you guys.

Lmao I hope did your fandoms justice, and like I said, none of this is to be taken seriously, it’s all in good fun!

#ask bea #bea’s mutuals #supernatural #desticule #friends #amrev #american revolution #Loki #six of crows #murdoch mysteries #ink 🖋#jamie 👑#friendos ✨

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bokutoyaoya · 3 years

Text

June 21st, 2022

The longest day of the year, with the sun peeking through the windows at a godly-forbidden hour of the morning and setting when the date is about to change. A day when the sun feeds you with vitamins for the longest and makes you crave for more for four other months.

The first day of summer, the green-glowing trees and freshly cut grass, the terrible and insufferable hot weather when the wind takes a break for a few hours only.

The opening day of Onigiri Miya’s Tokyo branch, the clients flooding the place and the staff running behind the counters to serve everyone on time, offering their best customer service’s smiles.

Akinori was hungry, starving you might even say, and at this very moment he craved onigiri. What a blessing for you to work two stations away from the restaurant, and in less than twenty minutes you were waiting in line to order.

“It’s busy,” Akinori stated.

“I don’t expect less from the place,” you replied, “look, it’s Keiji! He’s been waiting so long for the branch to open.”

“So have you,” Akinori smirked at you while you jumped in hope to see Akaashi notice the both of you.

“What? No, I mean, yes! Because Osamu’s been waiting for it too, and I want to offer him my support.”

Akinori side-eyed you, his grin only wider and you pinched his arm.

Before he could protest, you were brought in front of the counter, a young woman welcoming you with her brightest smile.

“I’ll have one tuna mayo and one Umeboshi, please, and three salted salmon for my friend,” you ordered.

“Y/N?”

Osamu had come out from the kitchen as soon as he heard your voice, a bright smile adorning his face. When his employee finished registering your order, Osamu told her to take care of other clients so he would prepare your order himself.

“How ya doin’?” he asked while modelling the rice ball in his hands.

“Fine, a little hot but I won’t complain, my flowers love all this sun,” you rambled, gesturing with your hands. “What about you?”

“I’m doing great, so many people, it’s always so comforting to see this place crowded. Umm, yer friend, Akaashi came just a second ago, he seemed in a hurry.”

“Yeah, we saw him but he’s been so busy with Udai-san lately, it’s still good to know he took the time to come out of his office,” you giggled.

You chatted the whole time Osamu was making the onigiri, Akinori observing the scene from outside the bubble you two had created.

“Send my compliments to the chef,” you smiled at Osamu when you grabbed your order.

“Will do,” and you swore you saw a light tint of pink colouring his cheeks.

“I’ve never third-wheeled so hard in my life,” Akinori said while taking his food from the bag.

“Stop complaining, you didn’t have to come with me.”

“You’re gonna see him tonight anyway, you could’ve waited a bit longer,” you didn’t say anything at his statement, because yes, you were planning on coming back before closing time. “Also, you paid for food and the dude didn’t spare me a look the whole time you were chatting, this is poor customer service, so I have all rights to complain.”

10pm, Onigiri Miya closing time, you walked through the doors ten minutes before, a bouquet in your arms.

Once again, Osamu immediately came out of the kitchen when he heard the door opening. He shot you an wide smile before approaching you, wiping his hands against his apron.

“Ya hungry again?”

“Yes,” you returned the smile, “but I wanted to properly congratulate the chef on the new opening of his restaurant,” and you handed him the bouquet, “courtesy of Olympus Fields’ owner herself.”

“Thanks so much, they’re beautiful, send my compliment to the florist.”

“Will do.”

“So, what kind of message are ya delivering? I have orange, red and hot pink roses. Now I know a little about the red ones, but not the others,” Osamu said while gently putting down the bouquet on the counter.

“The pink ones are for recognition, a ‘thank you’, for being here and making people happy. The red ones are for love. The orange ones are to say ‘I am so proud of you’, for everything you’ve accomplished, you deserve this.”

If he didn’t express it with words, his eyes gazing onto yours were enough to know how thankful he was to you.

In the past year, you’ve both been supporting each other the best you could, talking and hanging out, visiting when your schedules allowed you to, and now you were here.

You didn’t realize you’d gotten closer to Osamu until you felt his breath fanning over your cheeks, and before you could think of the next step, you both leaned in, lips crashing against his while one hand caressed your cheek, and you melted into the soft touch.

You weren’t taken back to that night you first kissed, you weren’t taken back to his bathroom when he got rid of his gray locks, you didn’t feel any of that. It wasn’t different, those were still Osamu’s kisses, but it was new. Familiar, but new.

You parted when lacking air, panting, his forehead resting against yours and you were completely confined in his embrace.

“Red roses, when a deep shade of red, are meant to say that you’re ready for commitment, right?” Osamu said in a half-whisper and you nodded.

“So? We’re good?” you asked.

“Yes, we are.”

「 WE’RE GOOD (ARE WE?) 」 15. familiar, but new

MASTERLIST

– FIN 🤧 I can’t believe it, it’s complete, and I have to say that I really like this chapter

– be happy with yourself before being happy with someone else, love yourself the way you wanna be loved

– now I want to say that We’re Good by Dua Lipa is THE reason I came up with this whole thing, the song describes the vibe of y/n and Osamu’s relationship (until recently yk) very well

– finally thank you so much to anyone liking, reblogging and commenting on the story, you encouraged me to keep writing thanks a thousand times ❤️ you are incredible

TAGLIST IN THE REPLIES

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! smau #haikyuu x reader #hq smau #hq x reader #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu smau #osamu x reader #osamu smau #miya twins #miya atsumu #suna rintarou #ginjima hitoshi #konoha akinori #sarukui yamato #shirofuku yukie #suzumeda kaori #komi haruki

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