#equally as shitty and snide if not MORE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aesthetic-bbyg · 7 months

Text

BEACON OF HOPE ~ Sanji

LA!sanji x fem!reader

Warnings ! : being yelled at, daddy issues bc it’s the best fanfic seasoning, angst, fluff, abuse from parental figure, double standards, misogyny (or sexism?)

Nattie speaks: a lil something to y’all fed + I need a man like Sanji to comfort me and my daddy issues🙏

ZEFF WAS IN SOME SORT OF MOOD that day. The harsh trudging of his footsteps as he exited and entered the kitchen while bellowing orders was more then enough evidence to prove your point. Nobody in the kitchen even dared to breath the wrong way, afraid of the ex-pirates response. Even Sanji had managed to bite his tongue and hold back any snide remarks to keep the Zeff’s anger at bay.

You avoided any trouble all day, not causing a disturbance when a costumer was being particularly rude. You simply did you’re job was a waitress, took down orders and dropped them off at the kitchen, later coming back to collect the food and give them to the diners. You’d refused to even think about slacking off just a bit, not going over to Sanji for a couple flirtatious exchanges like usual. The Baratie was flooded in a thick tension but all was well, for the most part.

The business was booming with people, that certain point of the day where all the seats were filled with snobby, rich people. You’d been rushing between tables, taking down orders as quick as possible since these people didn’t recognize patience. It was overwhelming and overstimulating, making your temple throb in pain as you dragged you feet into the kitchen. You called out the order in a loud voice, sticking the scribbled notes onto the overhead where Carne cooked up a steak.

“Table 8 says they’ve been waiting for their drink for twenty minutes, y/n, hurry it up!” Zeff’s voice sudden boomed as he marched into the kitchen, you nearly flinched at the sound of his voice, swallowing down a remark about how those twenty minutes was actually a dramatized two minutes. Nonetheless you collected a few cups and took them straight out to table 8, some rich couple and their equally rich kids.

You gave them a kind smile, despite wanting to desperately slap their cocky smirks off their faces. “And are you ready to order?” You questioned in a chirpy tone, reaching for the notepad in your pocket and the pen tucked behind your ear.

“My, we just got our drinks, give us a minute to look over the menu.” The woman scoffed, you sucked you teeth in, blinking slowly and offering another wide grin.

“My apologies, I’ll be back in a bit.” You shoved the notepad back in its place, walking to a booth that was empty, though the table crowded in a mess of dishes. You reached for the sliver platter that held the receipt and a pitiful amount of berry left as a tip. “Assholes.” You mumbled, taking the money and collecting a few plates and cups.

The brewing storm in your head had begun to cloud your vision, sometimes you just wanted to quit and make a dramatic exit out of the shitty restaurant but you never had the balls to. The whole service you’d been good, held your shit together despite wanting to break down on the inside, bit your tongue, but the one moment you got vulnerable ended in tragedy.

In a fit of cursing out some of the customers out in your head, you didn’t take notice of the waiter coming out the kitchen at the exact same time you were entering. The collision led to the shatter of two plates, one cup and a mess of silverware clanking on the floor.

“Fuck.” You mumbled, watching as the waiter scurried away nervously, leaving you at the scene to deal with the approaching man.

“What the hell are you doing!” Zeff shouted, tone practically rumbling the whole restaurant as you stared up at him in utter shock. You felt like a kid again, having to guiltily stand there while an adult went on off on you. The man threw insults that he’d probably regret the next day, humiliating you over a few broken plates. You just stared down at the dirty floor, feeling tiny compared to him. “Clean this up and get out of sight!”

He walked past you, leaving the judging eyes of the kitchen crew to watch as you bent down, slowly picking up the larger chunks. You didn’t even realize that Sanji was approaching till the shadow of his figure loomed over you. You jumped, backing away in fear as you wide eyes met his. The boy frowned, taking notice at the tears pooling in your eyes and you’re quivering lip. You looked like a kicked puppy, that was enough for him to toss the shards of porcelain and help you up.

He took you out the back door, away from the staring eyes as he heard small whimpers escape your mouth. “It’s okay, darling, it’s okay.” He whispered, arms wrapped around your figure, his hand coming up to brush your hair. “The old man is just giving a hard time because he has a stick up his arse.”

You let out silent cries, tears dripping down your face and onto Sanji’s apron, his soothing tone helping ease the tightness in your chest. You felt stupid, and weak, crying over getting reprimanded for something that was your fault. Now your were taking valuable time away from both you and Sanji’s jobs, that’s all you thought about and it made you cry harder.

Funny enough, Sanji was thinking the opposite. He didn’t care about his job, or the broken pieces still laying on the kitchen floor, or even the fact that Zeff could come out any minute and yell at the two for slacking. All he cared about in that moment was you, making sure you cried all the tears you had, making sure that your trembling hands stilled. He placed chaste kisses on your head, standing there until your sobbing quieted down.

He slowly pulled away, hands still placed on your shoulder with a cautious look. “You look lovely, darling.” He chuckled at the sight of the black mascara that began to run down your cheek.

“Piss off.” You muttered humorously, taking the clean rag he offered and wiping away any evidence of your breakdown. “I hate today.”

“I know you do.” He whispered back, taking the cloth and gently swiping away the parts that you missed. “Beautiful as always.”

“Why are old people such assholes.” You shoved your head into his chest, words muffling as you did.

“Because they can’t get it up anymore without breaking a hip.”

You let out a chuckle, smiling against the material of his shirt, his chest vibrating with his own laugh and it calmed you down even more. You took in a deep breath, hands reaching down low, making the cook tense. You grabbed the pack of cigarettes he always had in his pockets, lifting the box with a sly smile.

“Get your head out the gutter.” He laughed quietly, reaching for the lighter in his other pocket as you shoved a cigarette into your mouth.

“Ready to go back in?” He questioned, watching as you puffed out a cloud of smoke.

“Yeah.” You replied quietly, taking a long drag while Sanji opened the door, allowing you to step in first. Gentleman, as always. “If Zeff smells this thing, I’m blaming you.”

The older man hated the stench of burnt out cigarettes that lingered in the air because Sanji had bad habit of lightening one every few hours. The ash tray on the extra table shoved in the corner of the kitchen was full, and Zeff always lectured the blonde on it, Sanji typically never cared enough to stop.

“Blame me all you want, darling, I’ll take the fall each time.” He winked at you, grabbing a dust pan and broom. He lazily swept up the mess, dumping it into the nearby garbage bin, something he knew Zeff would also yell at him about.

“He’s gonna kill you.”

“I’d like to that old man try.” Sanji smirked, giving you that classic flirty look that made the butteries flutter in your stomach. “Now, get back to work.”

You mocked a salut, rolling you’re eyes as you made your way to the kitchen doors, “Yes, chef.”

THE REST OF THE DAY HAD GONE smoothly, the sun hid itself behind the horizon as the dinning area emptied. Most of the guest had migrated to the bar, the party boomed at the other end of the restaurant.

You and Sanji were the only two in the kitchen, he was showing off some new dish he came up with, claiming it was the best thing on the VIP menu.

“We have a VIP menu?”

“Yeah, but it’s so secret that none of the guest know about it, not even the old man.” Sanji grinned, hand off the plate to you. “Now, the food critic decides.”

You rolled your eyes with a playful smile, picking up the fork and scooping up a bite into your mouth. The mixtures of taste were perfectly balance, unique flavors creating a wonderful sensation. There something about Sanji’s cooking that made you feel so safe and warm, you always teased that he was like a granny. He was able to create that familiarity in his food, something you eat every once in a while that reminds you of home.

You placed the fork down, dramatically folding your hands on your lap as you chewed down the food, “This dish, its…absolute shit.” You held back a smile, looking up at the cook.

Sanji glared at you, hands placed firmly on his hips. “You’re starting to sound like Zeff.”

“Ugh,” You groaned, “Don’t remind me.”

“I can’t believe he made you cry.” Sanji slid off into the seat right next to you, watching as the memory of his yelling flickered in your head, lips dipping into a soft frown. “Fuckin’ arse.”

“It really was my fault.” You mumbled back quietly, “But it was the fact that he yelled at me, you shoulda’ seen that look in his eyes.”

“I see it every day, darling.”

You didn’t like to reminisce on the past, especially since it was such a pain to even think about, both physically and emotionally. You didn’t open up about your family, or the crew you use to be a part of before running into the open arms of the Baratie. You were truly a mystery, you’re past locked up in a box and buried deep in the sand. Though sometimes, it escapes, poisoning you’re mind and breaking you down.

Zeff’s blow up triggered that poison, it spread like a virus, clouding you’re head for the rest of the day. Even now, you’d begun to dig up memories you didn’t want to remember. It was enough to make a fresh wave of tears build up, but you refused to cry this time, not allowing a single droplet to escape as you blinked them away. Though the quiet sniffle gave you away as Sanji glanced over at you, taking notice of the redness under your eyes, a silent confession that told him you were upset.

“You all right, darling?” He asked quietly, brows creased with worry, “Zeff isn’t here, he can’t make you feel like shit anymore.”

“It’s not that.” You whispered back, inhaling a shaky deep breath, “I’m just..thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” He asked, a comforting hand coming to hold yours. “If you need to talk about something you can talk to me.”

Silence filled the room as you struggled with making a decision, the truth was you’d probably start crying your eyes out if you opened your mouth. But the longer you held in these memories, the more toxic the venom became, it was tug-of-war between yourself and your conscious. Then again, the same trauma of the memories is what makes it such a hard task to open up.

You licked your lips, squeezing his hand gently and looking down. “I came from a pirate crew, but this pirate crew in specific was my family. Everyone on the ship was made up of all my relatives, mom, dad, siblings, cousins.” You saw the man nod from the corner of your eye, silently confirming his attendance. “My dad was the captain of the crew, and god he was a fuckin’ pain in the ass.” You voice cracked, words beginning to distort as you sucked in a deep breath. “My job on the crew was to basically be a maid, to pick up after the messes he made. Scrub the bird shit off the ledge, mop the deck, shine his shoes, serve him food, serve him drinks, anything a basic human can do I had to do for him.” You’re sadness had slowly began to turn to anger, your eyes lifting to finally meet his. “I got nothing in return, not even a few berry for the trouble.”

Sanji frowned deeply, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “Why would your father do this to you?”

His questioned made you scoff, because it was the same thing you asked the eighteen years your spent on the torturous ship. It wasn’t until you grew out of the naivety that you realized the answer. “Because I was a woman, and as a woman it was my job, my place, to provide service for the men. I was treated like shit all my life, and no one dared to say a thing.” You stood up, hand pulling away from his as you ran it through your hair frustratedly, moving to pace the kitchen. “The men believed that it was the job of a good wife to give and give, while they just take. I seemed to be the only one who didn’t believe this. But no one could ever speak up to the man, the captain himself, god forbid you disobeyed that asshole because he was never wrong, no matter the situation.” You finally sat back down, picking at your nails. “For years I was treated like nothing more then a slave, yelled at for being to slow, never praised for my work, only picked on what was wrong. It changed my way in seeing people, and it permanently left a scar on my everyday life. Hearing Zeff yell at me that way, it’s just..”

“I know, darling, I know.” Sanji cooed, for soft and tender, “That day, when you first arrived at The Baratie, you had a mark on your left cheek.” The cook swallowed thickly, recalling the day you’re feeble body came to the doors of the restaurant and begged for help. “Was that from him?”

The day before you escaped the ship you’d been refused food, as a punishment for not finishing your chores in time. When you spoke up about being hungry and the unfairness of it all, you received a harsh slap across the face. That was it, that was the last bit of disrespect you’d take. So you set off to steal a life boat and run away from the horrible treatment. “Yes, it was.”

“Bloody hell.” Sanji muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What was the name of your families crew?”

“The Calavera pirates.” You replied, Sanji leaned in closed, placing a finger on your chin to lift your gaze towards him.

“I’ll remember that name until the end of my life, and the day I find them, know that your same pain will be brought upon them.” His tone was so serious and low. His threat sent a chill down your spine, and not because you were scared of it, but because you knew he meant it. “You deserved so much better, darling.” He whispered, bringing you into his arms and planting a kiss on your hairline.

Sanji so desperately wanted to open his mouth and say that he’d treat you like a queen if you’d just give him a chance. But the man’s feelings were shoved down before they could tumble out his mouth. He chose to remain silent, allowing his actions to speak for him. With this new confession he made it his mission to take the extra step in making sure you were treated right. He would be your shoulder to cry on or someone to love, whatever you wanted. It was painful, the amount of love he held in his heart and he was unable to fully show you it.

But if he must wait all his life, he will.

sobbing but wanting to smash at the same time

lord pls send help.

#vinsmoke sanji #Sanji #blackleg sanji #Sanji opla #Sanji one piece #Sanji x reader #vinsmoke Sanji x reader #Sanji x you #sanji imagine #sanji live action #opla #one piece #one piece live action #one piece show #one piece fics #one piece imagine

446 notes · View notes

crithaus · 1 year

Text

Taliesin is a phenomenal actor to be true and fair but nothing will ever get me like the way he married Percy being so stupidly egotistical and shitty and snide and pretentious and just kinda mean (and entitled and responsibility shirking and everything you'd hate in a person, and also the guns thing) with Percy being so sweet, so caring, standing up in front of a crowd to rally Whitestone and his friends with the depth of his feelings about them and Whitestone itself, breaking troth with the one evil bitch of a thing that kept him alive for all the years on the run and with VM because his city and his friends (and future wife) needed him to do and be better, him simply singing with Pike to help resurrect that little boy, the raven skull pendants, Percy threatening the Goddess of Death with an ass-kicking mid-panic attack unprompted to try and spare his friend the stress it was causing Vax, actually Percy's skinny mortal ass threatening entities (Cravens Edge, Ipkesh, Syldor (tho fucking w/ syldor is more even playing field for mr. Is a prince I'll admit) the Raven Queen, The Clasp) a billion times out of his league to their faces because they've done wrong by his friends somehow. Percy will fight absolutely goddamn anything no matter the outcome for his loved ones. Very rarely, if at all, for himself.

Like kudos to Tal cuz I would despise Percy in real life, I'd beat the bricks outta that shitty little gremlin at first opportunity irl but the nuance and love and most importantly self accountability with which he is played is one of the most impressive things I've seen ever, case in point cuz literally all the party but grog have at least thought about kissing that motherfucker despite him being the way he is. He's very very flawed, and equally traumatized, and that, whole valid, doesn't excuse some of his actions and he spends the whole campaign, 3 whole campaigns actually, doing and being better bit by bit.

Once against Tumblr user crithaus gets up on her soap box to wax poetic about Percival De Rolo, more at 11.

#critical role #vox machina #percy de rolo #bites him bites him bites him #HE'S SO SHITTY HE IS SO STUPID AND SHITTY AND TERRIBLE #AND HE'S SO SWEET AND CARING AND BRAVE AND KIND AND PERFECT AAAAAA #God i wanna punch him in his nose and kiss his forehead and his wife

252 notes · View notes

cherrydreamer · 2 years

Text

More festive ideas with Kindergarten Teacher Steve! This time it's Steve catching Billy at pick up time, just as all the kids are filing out of the class, to ask him about the band patches covering his denim jacket.

And Billy takes one looks at Steve's slightly furrowed brow, and starts bracing himself for some kind of snide comment, something about how his attire isn't appropriate for the school yard even though Billy knows there's nothing especially scary or vulgar on any of those patches, no matter what the school moms have been muttering, and so he's got a scowl on his face and his hackles raised, all ready to spout off about how Penny's mom is always carrying that shitty 'one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor!' tote bag and no one bats an eye.

And OK, maybe Billy's a little defensive about his patches. Because they're special to him. And, more importantly, they're special to his daughter. The two of them have a whole routine of sitting together while she sifts through the ever growing collection of fabric squares, Billy listening to Emily making up fun stories about the pictures and praising her stilted attempts at sounding out the band names, then grinning in pride whenever she recognises one from the tapes and CDs they have littering the floor of Billy's car before they both dissolve into giggles as Billy wails out a verse or two while she bangs out a drum solo on the coffee table. And then, when they've both calmed down, when she's sitting on his lap all curled up small, Billy will ask her which ones are her favourites. And he'll gather up the ones she points to and later on he'll sew them onto his jacket, ever so carefully, because those are the ones Emily likes best. And Billy's all prepared to explain that. Firmly.

But instead of any kind of rebuke, Steve just looks the patches over and hums, sounding satisfied, "So… this means you can sew, right? Properly? I mean, these all look pretty secure," he says, stroking a finger down the perfect stitches holding down a teeny, tiny rainbow flag patch almost hidden against Billy's cuff.

And when Billy nods at him, slightly baffled, Steve smiles that sunshine smile of his and that little crease between his eyebrows melts away as he says, "OK, yeah. That's good, that's great. Think you could stay behind tonight and give me a hand with the costumes for the Christmas show? Because, uh, yeah...I kinda, really need them to be ready soon and, uh, I'm really not having the best time with a needle and thread." He wiggles his fingers, giving Billy a good look at his Care Bear Band-Aid covered digits all while fixing him with the biggest, most pleading puppy dog eyes that Billy's ever seen.

So. Fuck. Billy's powerless to resist.

Really powerless it turns out, because the moment he tries to claim that he'll be busy with Emily, she comes skipping back from where's she been playing over by the jungle gym, hand in hand with her best friend asking if she can go over for a playdate because, "Jasmine's Mom says it's fine, she does, I just gotta ask you, so please Daddy? Please?" and now Billy has no excuse and a whole other set of puppy dog eyes that he can't resist.

Which is how he ends up sitting in Steve's classroom, squeezed onto a tiny chair next to an equally tiny table, unpicking Steve's hideously tangled attempts at sewing felt baubles and stars onto thirty somewhat misshapen Christmas tree costumes as Steve sits beside him and fills the silence by talking about the whole routine he's devised for the Happiest Christmas Tree dance.

And it's twee as fuck. So saccharine sweet that Billy can feel the cavities already. But then Steve starts chattering on about how he knows it's a lot, overkill, really, just for a ten minute show, and how he had to buy all the material and the teeny tiny jingle bells with his own money, and how he's been staying late every night trying to get everything prepared, but it's all worth it because the kids love it so much. And then he swallows, his voice going quiet, that bubbly cheerfulness dropping away as he starts explaining how a guy, a grown man, in this line of work always gets questions. Always gets the suspicious looks and raised eyebrows, even now. Even after years of doing this job. Even after proving himself again and again and again. How he still feels like he's not doing enough.

And Billy gets that.

Because getting custody of Emily was a fucking challenge. A labyrinth of social workers with pointed questions and pursed lips and reams of mind numbing paperwork, and it's still not plain sailing; there's still that icy clench of fear with every brown envelope that falls onto the mat in the morning. He's still kept up at night by that all encompassing worry that someone's going to take Emily away from him. That he'll get accused of doing something wrong, of not doing something right, of not being stable or respectable or responsible and they'll take her away because he's failing her. Because he's not good enough for her.

So Billy gets it. Why Steve tries so hard.

He doesn't say that much. Not exactly. But he does tell Steve how clear it is that Emily's learned so much since she's been in Steve's class. How she's so damn smart now, reading all the labels on the tins in the shops and counting out the right money for the bus and telling Billy everything she can remember about Ancient Egyptians including that gross 'pulling the brain out through the nose' thing.

And then Billy takes a deep breath, staring right down at the fuzzy green felt in his hands and the tiny little jingle bells that have started to look kind of blurry, and he talks about how much more confident Emily is now, how she literally skips on the way to school, talking with just as much eagerness about Mr. Steve as she does about all her friends. How she's settled, finally, after all the upheaval in her little life. How she's happier now. So much happier.

And that's when Steve's sunshine smile comes right back. Full beam and directed straight at Billy, catching him unawares when he looks up, and making him stab himself right in the thumb on the next stitch.

But hey.

Steve's got a mostly full pack of superhero Band Aids in his pocket and his fingers are warm and gentle when he applies them, so Billy can't be too grouchy about it.

And there's still ten costumes to go, so Billy's not gonna quit yet. (Lil shout out and a thank you to @magniloquent-raven for chatting with me about this lil headcanon on Discord! I loved your idea about Billy telling Steve how much his on an impression he's made on his kid, and had to sneak something similar in here!)

#harringrove #longer than i planned but hey #one day there'll be a whole fic #with Billy coming to watch the show and ending up sitting next to Steve cause there are no other seats #and watching the pride on Steve's face #the way he's so damn good at this #coaxing the shy kids #giving them a chance to shine #knowing exactly how to calm down the excited ones without them losing their spark #doing that dorky little teacher dance as he half crouches at the front and encourages them all to smile and twirl #and maybe billy sticks around later #says he'll help steve take down the set or something #while emily sits at the back and draws a picture of the two of them #cherrywrites #fluff #pure fluff

131 notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 3 years

Note

Hey, I'm the 3word anon! I guess to make this easier, you call call me 📚🌻

I just wanted to say that you did an amazing job! I loved reading what you've done! You said that you wanted more words so here it is your next words: tradition, needle and tribute

Love, 📚🌻

I'm so glad you liked it dear 📚🌻 ! I absolutely love this challenge and I don't think I'll ever get tired of it hehe. Hope you enjoy this one too!

Freedom

Pairing: Rick Flag x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of drug use, Mentions of injury Spoiler Free 😊

Genre: Romance, Humor

“Flag, I have someone coming on-board with you.“ Waller’s voice comes in through the radio of the jet colonel Rick Flag was about to take off with, taking the Suicide Squad on their newly assigned mission.

He rolls his eyes, engine of the jet roaring to signal it’s ready to lose contact with the ground and rise up into the skies - much like Rick, who’s already fed up with the Squad’s members who are explicitly annoying and pesky today, promising him a ton of headaches in the near future. With that in mind, these news Waller has given him so suddenly, he’s not particularly excited to welcome another lunatic on the jet. Another lunatic to deal with.

“Who the hell are you sending? Don’t you think my hands are already full enough?!“ He yells at the top of his lungs in order for his voice to overpower the engine’s loudness.

“I’m here to help you, you ungrateful piece of shit!“ This voice, familiar voice, doesn’t emerge from the radio, instead it’s coming from right behind him and is equally as strained as his due to the loud, ear-bleeding surroundings.

Before Rick can even comprehend the presence of another person, said person gets seated on the copilot’s seat, equipping a pair of headphones so the two can communicate without pushing their lungs to the brink of giving out.

“What the hell are you doing here, L/N?“ He asks, his eyes unable to hide even a little bit of the confusion that the girl’s presence has brought upon him.

Contrary to his seriousness and shock, the girl gives him a bright, almost teasing smile, “Oh come on, Flag. I have a soft spot for you, you know, I like helping you.“ She tilts her head ever so slightly, “And I don’t feel like giving Waller the pleasure of detonating this bomb at the back of my neck.“

“Thought so.“ He scoffs, watching Y/N’s movements out of the corner of his eye as she straps herself in.

She rolls her eyes, cracking her knuckles before turning to him, deciding to pick up on this petty war, just to make matters worse for Rick and more amusing for herself, “Aren’t you gonna shoot me? I mean, it’s our tradition.”

Rick cringes, recalling the exact event - or rather events, plural - she’s referring to: the night he arrested her and a few others, all henchmen of the Joker. Unlike her co-workers however, Y/N put up one hell of a fight while those fuckers chose flight. Their decision didn’t get them far while hers led her to the hospital wing of the Belle Reve prison, a bullet in her side fired at her by colonel Flag. Seeing the report files on the altercation, Waller immediately knew the girl was something else and recruited her for the Suicide Squad.

Unfortunately, her first instinct when her eyes first landed upon the colonel was to pounce at him, despite her low chances of succeeding in her intentions considering there were guards and soldiers literally everywhere, all with guns ready to fire. Yet still, Flag was the one who shot her yet again, this time less dangerously close to fatal.

Yeah, she has a right to be pissed and a right to call it their tradition, but it’s also safe to say that their dynamic has improved. They went on to go on a few more missions together without any complications or unwanted altercations. Sure, there were snide remarks and petty comments here and there, but those could be considered compliments when compared to the shootings.

“When are you gonna let that go?“ Rick snaps, his eyes remaining fixated ahead while the jet slowly ascends, “I got you off the streets. I freed you from that psychopath. The last thing you should be is mad!”

There is a long pause between the two, leading Rick to sneak a glance at his co-pilot. She appears to be deep in thought, staring ahead much like he’s supposed to be doing right now. She doesn’t seem like she’s conjuring up a sarcastic response which would be totally up her alley, but oddly enough she seems to be genuinely thinking about what he said. He starts feeling a bit shitty for having snapped at her like that - she wasn’t completely wrong to keep rubbing it in his face, she did suffer two gunshot wounds from him, after all.

“I’m not mad.“ Y/N finally speaks up, not sparing him as much as a look, “I’m grateful. The Joker isn’t the only thing I was trying to escape. One half the day I was doing his dirty work, the other half I had a needle stuck in my arm or was out cold in a drug induced half-coma.�� This time she does turn to take in the expression change that’s happened on his face and she seems pleased with the shock and confusion she sees. “Bet you didn’t know that, did ya?“ Contemplating her next move for a second, she plays with the belts of her bulletproof vest and gear before seemingly deciding on what to do. Her fingers quickly undo the belts and buttons of the gear that’s covering her torso, removing the strong and dense protective material to expose the skin of her side where there’s a scar where she had to have surgery to get the bullet removed. Around the scar there’s a tattoo of a peculiar looking flower, masking the line as a part of itself, “I got that tattoo as a reminder of that night. A tribute to more than one freedom coming to me at once.” She quickly readjusts her gear, and slumps into the seat with a sigh of a deflating balloon. “No longer a slave, no longer an addict. Though, addicts are slaves too - slaves to our own brain’s dependency on a substance that’s destroying us.”

Rick is at a loss for words. He wasn’t expecting that, never did he think Y/N was an addict as well prior to being a henchwoman and then a prisoner. That’s probably due to the fact that she’s always been in a great physical shape, ready to take on the enemy whenever and wherever. “Damn, fucking hell, I’m sorry you had to go through that, Y/N...“ He really doesn’t know what’s there to say when he now feels even shittier than he did before.

He almost jumps out of his skin when he feels her hand on his bicep, “I would still be going through it if it wasn’t for you. In fact, come to think of it, I should apologize for pouncing at you like that when all you did was do me a favor.” She giggles quietly before adding, “But I won’t.”

He too allows himself a small laugh, “I wasn’t expecting you to.“

Of course he wasn’t, he’s come to know her well. And he also knows it’s nothing personal - Y/N is simply not the type of girl who apologizes. That he can stomach, but imagining his co-pilot seat unoccupied on the way back from this mission he cannot.

Damn it, Flag. God fucking damn you, you’ve done it again haven’t you, he asks himself, knowing the answer perfectly well already.

293 notes · View notes

yhwhsdaughter · 3 years

Text

HQ!! Manager being protective when people insult their player

(ft. oikawa, hinata, tanaka, yachi, osamu, kuroo)

Warnings: threats, physical altercations, bullying, public humiliation

I usually don’t condone the usage of violence, but I woke up mad today lmao

OIKAWA

the pretty setter was getting ready to serve, his fangirls screaming in support while the rest of the team took a break.

to the side were a couple of guys staring in jealousy, “heh, his weak ass gets a big ego just because—”

they continued their insults and while they didn’t reach oikawa, his team members certainly heard it all

teasing oikawa was different when it came from them because they genuinely cared about him,, but for someone else to continuously bully the setter without reason?? it was infuriating

before any of them could kick their asses, their manager approached them.

(name) was perhaps the most polite individual they’d met; always patient and kind despite their antics

“ah, i can see the misunderstanding that oikawa is a weakling. he’s got a broken knee and constantly pushes himself despite the excruciating pain.”

the aura surrounding them suddenly turned dark and cold as (name) clutched the shoulder of the main bully with an iron grip

“what about you? shall i break your knee so we can find out if you’re stronger than him?”

at that moment, their gentle mannered manager had the eyes of a beast, unyielding as the guy tried to escape their grip

when they left, the players approached (name) who still glared in that direction. “woah we didn’t know you could be so scary (name)”

now calmer, they replied, “you’re my team, i would kill anyone that tries harm you.”

it was such a matter-of-fact that the males couldn’t help but laugh “haha you’re funny too”

“am i laughing?”

that day they learned their precious manager would deadass commit murder for them

extra: when oikawa found you defended him, he ran with open arms, “(name)-channnnn marry me!” squeezing the life out of you

HINATA

competition hadn’t even started and people were already shit talking karasuno

“flightless crows” blah blah blah

as their third manager, you would be in the benches with yachi, supporting the team

however, hinata had gone to the bathroom and he wasn’t back. daichi had sent you to get him since the game was about to start

you found the team’s sunshine nearly corned by a tall player “aah you’re so short and you’re a middle blocker?? i’ll be looking down on you little shrimp!”

he didn’t get to say more because your leg swiftly hit the back of his knees, falling to the ground harshly.

no one and i mean no one messes with hinata without you getting a few hits in, regardless height

“oh look. you’re below him now”

mans was lucky y’all were in a competition, otherwise he wouldn’t have left unscathed

with that, you steered your baby hinata away from that asshole, throwing him a dirty look in case he wanted to try anything

if he did, you would not hold back. literally on sight

fyi hinata was totally not blushing the entire way back. everytime you approach him now he gets all flustered

everyone else is like ???

TANAKA

the ladies man, tanaka had encountered a group of attractive girls at the arcade so he decided to shoot his shot

when they declined, tanaka was prepared to leave them alone, respectful of a woman’s boundaries, but they decided to verbally attack him

“who’d wanna go out with you?” “yeah you’re so ugly, stupid baldie”

wrong move

unfortunately for them, you were also at the arcade, having heard how the entire conversation went down

you knew tanaka would never use violence against a girl, even if they were rude, but you would.

equal rights equal fights bitch

those girls never saw it coming, you grabbing the leader’s hair roughly and yanking it back, “you’re right, longer hair is much better”

you went feral; simultaneously slapping the others away when they tried to pull you off, your tight grip never faltering.

only when tanaka placed a gentle hand on your arm that you released her

“insult him again and you’ll be the baldie next time”

in short, tanaka now sees you as his personal deity. boy will adore you

YACHI

the third years were gone now

kiyoko had left the team in your and yachi’s hands, with you mainly taking charge as the now-third year manager

the team all sat together for lunch (yes, tsukki too), they were waiting for you since you’d been talking with a teacher

a girl in front of you side-eyed yachi, watching with envy as the blonde sweetheart spoke with the handsome volleyball players

plan brewing in that toxic mind of hers, the girl pretended to trip, spilling her lunch all over yachi. the team didn’t have time to react, watching in shock as food splatted on her lap

sis even had the audacity to say “oh sorry didn’t see you there” as if she didn’t just purposefully throw her food on someone else

worry not, because you returned the favor.

as soon as she gave her faux apology, your food was already making its way down her head to her shoes

there wasn’t a part of her left uncovered

“my bad, i thought you were the trash” you did not look sorry at all

half of the cafeteria watched this unfold—tsukki even making some snide remarks. you grabbed yachi’s hand, guiding her to the restroom to help her clean off

from that moment on, people got the message to never mess with the volleyball team lest they face the wrath of their manager

OSAMU

osamu was your best friend, the reason why you joined inarizaki as their manager

currently, you were in home ed, making the assigned dish but it wasn’t difficult so your movements were lax so much that you couldn’t help but overhear the conversation going on in front of your table

at the mention of osamu, your ears perked up

“he was SUCH a jerk. i kept asking hoping he would grow tired and say yes, but nooooo. apparently osamu thinks he’s better than me”

some of her friends looks uneasy at her inability to take ‘no’ for an answer but the girl continued on her rant

the teacher stepped out for a moment. “HAHAHAHHAHA” the class turned to look at you, laughing like a maniac while you chopped vegetables with scary precision and inhuman strength

“you sure got some nerve, harassing someone like that.. especially my best friend”

that was the moment the grew knew she’d fucked up. she couldn’t even answer back because the teacher was back.

you made a point to ask the teacher if you could be partners with that girl for the next lesson, making her gulp in fear as you ran a finger across your throat

to say the least, she stopped talking for the remainder of the class

KUROO

chemistry?? you and kuroo?? friends?? together in class???

a fucking chaos

just kidding. the two of you were actually really good students. the best, if you had to brag

despite being the teacher’s favorite, you were lowkey about it while kuroo liked to insert as many chem jokes as he could in presentations

it was kinda embarrassing and you subtly teased him, but never with malicious intent

during a lab, you got partnered with a bully. you tried to ignore him and continue working, but it kept getting worse.

the breaking point was dragging in kuroo to all of this. you’d rejected his offers of going on a date and when kuroo made a motion to ask if you were ok, the dude took it as a sign to talk shit

“seriously? him? he’s a fucking nerd. his jokes are lame and has shitty hair—”

your eye twitched. “oi you better stop if you don’t want me to burn your face off”

clueless in class, he didn’t know how to handle the material so you were doing all the work. he didn’t believe you

bringing in the acidic substance near his face is when he finally backed away, at which point you had already called the teacher and told them that he was playing around with dangerous chemicals

although it was the other way around, who do you think the teacher believed, their star student or the school bully??

lmao, bitch could ask his detention buddies out on a date now

kuroo: ??

#haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq x you #hq x reader #kuroo testuro #hinata shouyou #osamu miya #tanaka ryuunosuke #haikyuu yachi #oikawa torū #kuroo x reader #hinata x reader #osamu x reader #tanaka x reader #oikawa x reader #yachi x reader

363 notes · View notes

ellavogues · 3 years

Text

what did you wish for? - harry styles

summary: long distance has put a strain on harry and yn’s relationship, especially as his birthday is fast approaching

a/n: last repost from my old blog, i still freaking love this. this fic means a lot to me because parts of it was based off of my own life. as always, ily all <3

masterlist

The light turned to dark as she sat by her phone watching reruns of The Office, waiting for Harry to call her like he did every night. Her day was particularly bad, everything that could’ve gone wrong went wrong - from her forgetting her umbrella when it was bucketing down to her somehow locking her car keys in her car (which led to her incurring a $200 fee for the roadside assist service getting them out). Then, when she trudged home in the pouring rain, clothes completely soaked and her socks inside her shoes wet, she received an email informing her the elevators in her building were out of service. Unluckily for her, she lived on the 16th floor.

All she wanted was to see his smile to turn her day around. Harry never failed to turn her worst days into good ones just by being him, but being in a long distance relationship put a strain on that. Sure, they would visit each other every now and then, but both of their jobs were demanding and meant they couldn’t travel as much as they wanted to. Harry could travel more than she could, but she didn’t think it was fair that he’d always have to be the one to hop on a plane and fly across the world.

The familiar ringtone played and her eyes lit up in excitement. Y/N reached for the phone and answered to hear him yelling some utterance at his friend, to which his friend responded with something equally as snide.

A smile crept onto her lips as she lightly giggled at his attitude to his friend, and she could almost feel them roll her eyes at his snarky remark. Y/N would be lying if she said the huff of annoyance he let out as he returned his attention to her wasn’t hot, as well as the way he ran his fingers over his stubble then through his curly hair.

“How do you want to celebrate your birthday, Haz?” Y/N asked softly, not wanting to make his bad mood worse and hoping the change of subject would make him happy.

Harry sighed, closing his eyes as he composed his answer. “What’s the point?” His tone wasn’t soft like hers, nor was it disappointed. It appeared that he was angry that she brought up the topic. In a matter-of-fact tone, he continued, “You’re not in London with me, you’re in New York. There’s no point in celebrating with you if you’re not here.”

“We can FaceTime?”

He rolled his eyes at her suggestion as if it was the stupidest thing he had heard, and sarcastically laughed at her.

“What’s with your attitude, Harry? I want to celebrate with you! It’s not my fucking fault that I can’t be in London!” She frowned, frustrated that the distanc between them was the topic of conversation, like it always seemed to be.

Harry scoffs in response, the look on his slightly pixelated face dumbfounded that you would even suggest that it wasn’t your fault. “I have offered to fly you out to London many times, Y/N. There are plenty of jobs for you out here that you could apply to and that you know you would get because you’re so damn good at what you do,” he retorted, tired and irritated. Though Harry was usually incredibly patient with everyone, especially her, these increasingly frequent conversations had begun to wear him thin and gradually made him resent FaceTiming her at all, despite still being completely and utterly in love with her. “You’re being stubborn about moving for no reason.”

They were both quite stubborn individuals, but in the past Harry was usually the one that compromised to make her happy. He valued her happiness over getting his own way. When they reconnected a year ago, a few years after finishing school, and quickly realised their friendship was based on more-than-friend feelings they faced the problem of living in different countries. Although it seemed like a breeze at first, Harry scoffing at anyone who claimed long distance would be hard, as their feelings grew deeper and his visits less frequent, they both longed for a more physical presence of the other, rather than just virtual. This was something Harry was absolutely not willing to compromise on. He had his whole life in London, and he knew that he could give her the life she deserves if she would just take up his offer. He knew she was scared of leaving her family behind to move in with him, and he understood. Harry tried to keep his cool about this topic, but eventually he became exasperated.

“No good reason? Why should I be the one to move? Why is it me that has to pack up my entire life just to be with you?’” She scolds him for being so rude, and feels like he’s completely brushing off her feelings. “You are able to work from wherever you are. I am not. you should be the one to move.”

“Me?” Harry was astounded at was his girlfriend’s response, and was indigent at her crazy suggestion. “I can not leave London just because you’re scared of leaving the city you’ve been in all your life. My work is in London, you know this. You know I have to be here to work, just because I technically could still record in New York does not change that the majority of my work and networks are in London. You’re being a bit dramatic and unfair about this, Y/N. I’m tired of arguing about this all the time. Goodnight.”

The fact that he hung up on her makes her see red, blood boiling as she clenched her fists and teeth. He knew what he was asking of her; to pack up her whole life just to be with him. He was being selfish and unreasonable and she was being exhausted of having this stupid argument that neither of them ever won every time they talked. She felt like he never considered her friends here in New York, and that he always brushed off how she felt about the move. This fight had gradually become more tense as time went on, as they knew that a decision would eventually have to be made if they wanted their relationship to grow.

///

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she claimed.

“I know you and H had a fight,” Harry's friend responded, the one on the phone earlier. “He told me what happened and he feels really bad. Like, really. I know he would really appreciate it if you were here for his birthday.”

She sighed, starting to feel slightly guilty too for the way she reacted. She feels even more guilty for the fact that they hadn’t spoken at all in the past 3 days, besides a text from Harry simply saying Sorry for hanging up on you. When Y/N received the text, she was still calming down from their argument, still hurt by the way he made her feel that her career wasn’t as important as his. She still loved him, and she still misses him, though.

“I can’t afford a ticket, you know that. Not everyone makes a fuck ton of money like you and Haz-”

The friend chuckled softly over the phone before reassuring Y/N, “I’ll pay for it. Come and surprise him, he’ll feel a lot better and it’ll give you guys a chance to work it out in person, where you can’t just hang up on each other.”

Y/N knew that his friend was right, she knew that she and Harry needed a face to face conversation about the future of their relationship because long distance hadn’t seemed to be working for them anymore. Their virtual dates, while well thought out and romantic, weren’t the same as being there in person with him. Being there and lightly brushing legs as they sat down at the small table, hearing his laugh without the audio cutting in and out, being able to hold each other’s hands. It wasn’t the same.

Maybe that is why Y/N and Harry had been arguing so much, because their relationship relied on strong wifi connections and the ability to be on their phones all day. And it wasn’t enough for either of them anymore.

“Okay, thank you. I’m really grateful you’re doing this for us,” Y/N finally responded, expressing her gratitude.

His friend felt a wave of relief, ecstatic that Harry might finally get out of his shitty mood. Even though he didn’t mean to take out his annoyances on his friends, and he apologised every single time he gave them an uncalled for attitude, but it seemed his bad mood was never dissipating. When finally asked what was wrong, bursting through his door in a fit of exasperation, he broke down and told her about their FaceTime, and all their FaceTimes before it. About how every subject they discussed seemed to lead to the same topic: the distance between them. He admitted he regretted his harsh words, and regretted him acting like he thought his job was more important than hers.

“It’s really not a problem,” his friend promised. “I’ll email you the flight details and the invite, I can’t wait to see you! It’s been so long!”

“It’s been, like, a month and a half. Not that long.”

“That is so long! I miss you like crazy.”

“I miss you too,” Y/N giggled.

She flopped back on her bed, grinning from ear to ear and excited she would finally be able to see her boyfriend again, yet dreading the impending and necessary conversation they would have to have.

Y/N had anxiously got out of her Uber when she arrived at a friend's house for Harry’s surprise party. She was visibly shaking, stuttering as she said thank you to her driver, nervous that his reaction wouldn’t be good when seeing her. She was scared that he didn’t want her here anymore after their fight, despite his friend constantly reassuring her that he would be over the moon to see her.

She knocked on the front door, which his almost immediately answered. “Hey! Y/N!”

The loud exclamation earned the attention of the other attendees of the party, all shocked to see Y/N after Harry had repeatedly, and bitterly, told them that she was going to be in New York for his birthday.

“Hey,” Y/N smiled, greeting everyone. She glanced around the room, seeing the fairy lights hanging from the ceiling, the island bench covered with a gold table cloth, the backyard decorated with gold balloons and streamers. “Woah, the party is super cool! Harry is going to love it.”

“Harry is going to love that you’re here and not in New York.”

When Harry finally arrived, the lights were switched off and everyone scurried to grab their phones out to film. Y/N waited behind everyone as the group gathered close together to surprise him when he walked in.

“Oh my god,” Harry spoke. “It smells funny in here.”

She let out a quiet giggle at his comment, but was quick to muffle it before he heard it was her.

When he made it past the gold streamers that blocked the front door from the living area, everyone yelled out SURPRISE, going crazy and covering Harry with confetti. His face had pure joy, happiness and gratefulness plastered all over it, ecstatic that his friends would do something so sweet for his birthday, although he most likely already knew about the party. He glanced around the room, and almost had to do a double take when he saw his girlfriend. Y/N had told him she wouldn’t be able to make it, making him dread his birthday since he didn’t see a point in celebrating it if it wasn’t with her.

When the crowd had dispersed, Harry made his way over to her and grabbed her chin gently, tilting her face up before saying “Hey, love” and kissing her softly. He broke the kiss and pulled his girlfriend into a warm embrace. She was so glad to see him, in person, to be able to hold his hand and hug him and just be around him. In person.

They were pulled out of their moment when Harry’s friend asked if they wanted a picture, to which Y/N responded no and he responded yes.

“Don’t be shy, love,” he teased, smiling like a cheshire cat as he put her hair behind her ears. “I want to remember you being here tonight, let’s take the picture.”

It wasn’t long until it was time to cut the cake, Harry having Y/N by his side the whole night because he didn’t want to waste a minute he could spend with her. Being with him reminded Y/N why they were dating, and why she loved him. As the night went on, she felt the fight that was seemingly big feel less important, because she realised that she was making excuses as to why she couldn’t move to London with him. She was being stubborn for no reason, and she noticed that the only thing holding her back was her. Not her job, she could find a new one in London, not her family because she barely saw them anyway, not her friends because half of her friends were in London with Harry anyway. When she saw Harry walk through those streamers, it became crystal clear how silly she was being.

Harry knew what he wanted, and being with her that night just made him more sure. He decided he wasn’t going to stop fighting for his relationship with her, and if that meant he had to settle down his requests for her to move to London with him so she felt more comfortable, he would do that. Despite wanting nothing more than to live with her, to wake up every morning and see her face, to Postmate her favorite coffee every morning, to surprise her with spur-of-the-moment dates every now and then. He wanted her, and he was willing to wait if that’s what he needed to do.

After everyone sang happy birthday to him, his arm slung loosely around her, he blew out his candles.

“What did you wish for, H?”

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles imagines #one direction imagines

237 notes · View notes

seasurfacefullofclouds1 · 2 years

Note

This is in my mind since I started following 1D (which is no long ago)

Each one of them had their own personality for sure, but it's clear to everyone that Louis was the ✨shine✨ one, he was so stunning with such a great personality, pretty clear goals, attached since forever at his roots, humble and kind always.

Niall said they would be boring without Louis, also they would be nothing like who they are now, etc.

Zayn said Louis is a great person to talk to when felling down, he's a good listener and understand you no matter what, he is also funny and the joker one but not just that.

Liam was clearly in love with Louis, he always and I mean always play a long with him, if Louis is happy Liam is happy too. He knew from the beginning Louis was a leader, he accepted him as such and worked with him as equals, and he acknowledged Louis is the one with the songwriter skills.

You know where I'm going, they all give a place to Louis, they all take away some tittles the fandom gave to Louis before, and set what he is to them. And in the way of doing it they took away that tittles from them selves, you know what I mean? Zayn knows he is calm and might be good listener too, but prefers to say that to Louis (he always preferred Louis), Liam knows he wanted to be the leader, but he said Louis was the one deciding some 1D bussines, Niall knows they wouldn't be the greatest fucking boy band without Louis they were just kids but Louis hoped then to develop onto good young man.

And the only good thing Harry said about Louis, is he is a great person to like sit and just admire what he is like (and was from a scripted movie) . And that sums all what the other boys said, but is not fucking enough, he never gave him credits, did he? For Louis' songwriter, for be the one leading, for be the one to talk to, for be the responsable relive on shitty interviews, for be his friend and be facing all the Larry bullshit all the time, nothing at all. If I'm wrong please tell me.

Final thoughts: Louis is to bright for Harry, I'm glad he know it.

I take Walls (song) as the last one of the album when he realized who he is and where is he going, I know when he said "... I watch them all come fallin down for you" he didn't mean his walls fall because of H, or with H helping him, I just know it, and I'm hoping LT2 to be an

* i feel so loved,

*I feel so happy to be who I am,

* I feel so free watching you be in your cage of gold, (maybe this one not, but kinda yeah)

*I feel so sorry for your lost spark, I loved that on you and you sell it (kinda Fearless but you know what I mean)

If you answer me. Please give a gif from Nouis Lilo or Zouis, yes?

Hi,

Your comment about each of the boys reminds me of the Sky Milan interview where they were asked to describe each other, and Harry described Louis as, “Loud, loud, and loud,” whereas Zayn described Liam as “brave” and Louis said Liam was “warm.”

Harry is capable of wordsmithing. He has described people he’s worked with in warm, affectionate, effusive terms (Kacey Musgraves, Alessandro Micheli).

Not so for his former bandmates. After the hiatus, Harry’s words about his bandmates in recorded settings (on television, in taped interviews) have been snide and smug. “One Direction aren’t here, are they? I am.” “And Ringo.” (a very Azoffian joke). Harry reminds us that he’s not the druggies who risked breaking up the band.

Yes to everything you wrote about LT2.

But- and this is a big caveat.

As we can see from Liam Payne’s 180-degree about-face on Harry, as a former 1D guy, you don’t cross Harry Styles, you don’t make sarcastic asides about HSHQ.

You don’t interfere with Harry’s ambitions, his projects, his team, his business. Any public criticism of Harry comes with a heavy price on your career and mental health.

It doesn’t matter what fans point out, what is documented, etc. Unless you have more powerful backing in industry (and none of the men do), you simply do not subject yourself to the industry firing squad.

You don’t count on Harry’s ethics or his loyalty to 1D to soften the blow. You don’t expect him or his team to say one word to halt the attacks from his fans. You don’t count on Harry, period. You are dead to him, but you must say that he checks up on you often.

Louis’ songs on Walls aren’t direct criticisms, but they’re clear enough to those who understand. And Louis paid the price.

Thanks for the ask!

19 notes · View notes

applecherry108 · 2 years

Text

Sooo… my xmas surprise this year was a video call with my mom and aunt rather than my mom and dad. And you can tell where this is going because it’s 5:53am.

I love my mom and my aunt, but I’m having a fucking anxiety attack and can’t sleep because they’re white women born in the 1960s and they have some…..Quirks.

During our call, I was reminiscing about a shitty coworker I had when I worked in retail a few years back and they…..were taking this woman’s side. This coworker, who was NOT a manager or higher up than me in any way, was a complete fucking Karen and had decided she didn’t like me for whatever fucking reason and decided to be petty and shitty to me to the point that I was calling out of work because she made me suicidal. And I told my mom/aunt the only reason I could possibly fathom WHY she had it out for me was because… I was too helpful at that job. As in, I always volunteered to clean the most difficult section of the store, I was typically the first one to respond to questions on the radio (bc lord knows the managers wouldn’t answer), and I was the first one to come running whenever any coworker called for backup. And this…idk. Pissed off this coworker? She was a transfer to our store but I had still been with the company longer, and she was mad I had cornered the market on this one section for cleaning because she “always got to clean that section at her old store” but like… our store was unique in that that section had a stupid labyrinthine layout, and before me no one ever wanted to clean it at night. So yeah, I got used to taking that bullet and no one complained before her.

All this to say… is because when I cited this possible reason during the call, my mom interrupts me to say, “you could’ve taken turns.” Like….. this was YEARS ago. This is long over with. And even if this bitch coworker’s issue with me had been “I wouldn’t take turns letting her clean a section of the store” (which we did. Because it was a manager’s fucking call. We DID take turns but she was still pissed off that SHE had to take turns), that is NO fucking justification for the way she treated me. She’d constantly talk down to me and make snide comments. She’d berate me for answering questions on the radio even if she wasn’t the one asking them. This mean girls army wife white cunt who was at least 10 years older than me had the BALLS to call me petty and act like we were equally feuding when she found out I would sometimes call out so I wouldn’t have to work a shift with her (again. Because I was suicidal and if I evaluated my emotional state before a shift and determined that I couldn’t handle the stress of working with her that day, yeah. I’d call out. Because my life and mental health was more important to me than a crappy part time retail job). This woman made my life hell.

And my mom was defending this person to me.

And something my mom said later in the call lines up perfectly, in a way. She was talking about how she was bullied in school and because how she, like me, was so much taller than the boys in school, she’d get picked on a lot. She tells a story of how when she was 18 she was a camp counselor and how she’d teach the girls (not the boys), that if, during a school dance, if a boy asked a girl to dance and the girl turned him down, she should sit out that dance completely to not hurt his feelings.

…….

She described her reasoning as “it probably took him a lot of courage to pluck up the nerve to ask a girl to dance, and if she declines but dances that song with someone else, it’s like she’s saying ‘ew gross’ to the boy she turned down.”

Like, maybe her thought process was not wanting a kid to feel as bad as she did when boys would literally tell her “ew no” but why only teach the GIRLS this? And more importantly, why the fuck is it their responsibility to protect the boys’ feelings?? Why should these little girls be made to have a bad time just because a random boy approached them? If a boy a girl didn’t want to dance with kept asking her all through the night, does that mean that girl just has to sit out every song? Why shouldn’t the boys fucking learn to take rejection? Teach the girls to say “no thank you.” Teach the boys to accept “I’m sorry, I don’t want to dance with you.” Teach them not to be rude about it but ohhhh that poor boy! It took a lot of courage to ask that girl to dance! The least she could do is not have any fun at all!

Mom, that’s so fucked up on so many levels.

And every minute that my bastard brain has replayed you taking that childish, bullying coworker’s side, I have to then remember that you also said to prioritize everyone else’s feelings over your own. Which, let’s be honest, is why your daughter grew up as an anxious, insecure, suicidal doormat.

#apple talks #to the tune of spam #long post #this all woke me up with an anxiety attack in the wee hours of the morning because when faced with my mom and aunt sans my dad I was thrille #this was supposed to be an anxiety free call but nope lol #I don’t think they understand how hard I’ve had to work as an adult to be able to set boundaries and take no shit #to make it clear that MY FEELINGS MATTER TOO #fuck even when they came over once to my current apartment they were throwing shade at me like ‘oh what does ur roommate think’#???? my roommate?? that’s an adult?? and I communicate with like an adult???#fuckers why do you care that I set up a cardboard barrier???#I know my roommate is fine with it BECAUSE I FUCKING DISCUSSED IT WITH HIM BEFORE I DID IT #AND THE CARDBOARD IS THERE TO PROTECT *HIS* STUFF FROM *MY* CATS #my parents act like I should be breaking my back to please others #friendly fucking reminder that when I first became suicidal in college #all my friends and professsors and deans and doctors said #‘holy shit you have a 3.9 gpa and this is your last semester?? gurl just graduate who care if it’s with C’s’#ah but my parents were like ‘but what about your grades? :/ ‘ to their daughter. that just told the #she wanted to kill herself.#so really should I be surprised by what my mom said to today? no.#but yknow. I kinda thought that whole experience had fucking opened their fucking eyes to the way I was treated. but nope.#but what about your grades? but what about literally everyone else’s feelings but yours?#this is why I moved 3000 miles away guys.

12 notes · View notes

shootwinterfest · 3 years

Text

‘Tis The Season

‘Tis The Season by @asleepinawell

CHECK OUT THE ART COLLABORATION!!

Companion art by @maarikaaaa

Shaw slouched in the driver's seat and sighed loudly. "What's taking her so long?"

"You seem awfully worried," Reese said from the passenger's seat.

"I'm not worried. Root can handle babysitting a number by herself."

"Of course."

Long seconds ticked by as they waited. Shaw looked around the interior of the underground parking garage they were waiting in, hoping for something to distract herself with, but nothing stirred. She watched suspiciously as Reese fiddled with the dial on the car stereo. The reception here was shitty, but she could still make out the opening notes of Jingle Bells on the station Reese stopped on.

"No."

"’Tis the season, Shaw."

"I can hurt you."

"That's how you get on Santa's naughty list."

In the back seat, Bear whined.

"See? Bear hates it. Change the station."

"It's Christmas Eve."

"Who cares?"

She reached out to change the station, but Reese held his hand over the stereo to stop her. She thought about breaking one of his fingers, but then she'd have to listen to him complain about that while they waited. Without meaning to, she glanced down at the little clock just below where Reese's hand was. Eight twenty-three. Root had said to pick her up at eight.

"You how what? Fine. Put on whatever you want. I'm going to go find Root and drag her down all forty floors of this damn building."

"So you are worried about her then."

"No."

Shaw climbed out of the car and then stuck her head back in so she could address the remaining occupants.

"I'll be back in a few minutes, so just keep him out of trouble while I'm gone."

"I'll keep an eye on him," Reese promised, reaching into the backseat to pat Bear on the head.

"I was talking to Bear." Shaw shut the door to cut off Reese's protest and turned to go.

She wasn't worried about Root. Not yet anyway. It was a simple number: keep an eye on some business CEO lady at her office holiday party. The Machine had been vague about the details, but that was nothing new. Maybe Root was trying to make Shaw come look for her. If that proved to be the case, she'd have to deal with both Root and Reese making snide remarks about her worrying the whole drive back.

She jabbed violently at the elevator button and glared at the doors until the elevator car arrived.

___________________

Root sulked in silence. She wasn't mad about Ricky from the marketing department who'd kept coming on to her half the night (he was currently unconscious and folded up in a closet full of cleaning supplies down the hall), nor was she mad that Judy from customer support had spilled fruit punch on her amazing new Christmas sweater (the punch had only gotten on the sleeve fortunately, which meant the small taser she'd hidden in the enormous stuffed reindeer head that was mounted on the front of the sweater hadn't gotten wet). She wasn't even mad about the armed men who had invaded the holiday party and made all of them sit on the floor in the middle of the conference room.

No, she was mad because she wasn't allowed to go and do horrible and unpleasant things to the party crashers because someone was worried one of the hostages might get hurt in the process. The Machine wasn't letting her have any fun today.

"Do you think they're going to kill us?" the terrified man next to her asked.

"Probably," Root said, distracted by one of their captors who was doing something vaguely interesting with the computer in the next room. She craned her neck to try and see across the hall better.

The man next to her wailed in panic and Root sighed.

"He'd probably be better off unconscious," she said quietly, hoping the Machine would take pity on her and let her tase him. But no, apparently tasing terrified civilians was not allowed. Not even for Christmas.

She ignored the Machine's suggestion that she try to calm the man down and instead inched away from him to try and get a better look at what was going on across the hall. Just what were these guys after here?

___________________

Shaw had imagined a lot of possible outcomes from her trip to rescue Root--though mostly she'd imagined Root 'apologizing' to her in an empty office while Reese had to wait and freeze to death in the car--but she definitely hadn't imagined that she'd find herself crawling on her stomach through an air vent shaft above the head of a heavily armed man.

Her side trip had started with the elevator coming to an abrupt halt between the twenty-eighth and twenty-ninth floors. She'd been annoyed, but not concerned. Until the gunfire had started. Gunfire that definitely didn't sound like the small pistol she knew Root had on her. She'd brightened: maybe this wasn't a wasted trip after all.

The problem of being stuck in an immobile elevator had remained though and she'd been forced to improvise. In this case, improvising had meant climbing out a hatch onto the top of the elevator and prying off the cover of a vent on the wall slightly above her. Her heavy winter coat had been too large to fit in the vent, so she'd left it behind. Also left behind had been the horrible, ugly Christmas sweater she'd had on under it (the only thing that had made it tolerable was Reese had to wear one as well since he'd also lost a bet to Root). It was a shame that the sweater would probably never be recovered from the depths of the elevator shaft which she had gleefully flung it down, but surely Root couldn't blame her for losing it under the circumstances.

The black tank top she'd had on under all that wouldn't keep her warm outside, but it wouldn't get snagged in an air duct either. And it looked much better on her than the sweater had.

And then, after crawling through the metal vent for what felt like a million years, she'd finally seen a grate in the side of it that looked down into a room below. Which was where she saw the man with all the guns.

She couldn't hear everything he said over his little radio communicator, but she did pick up enough to get the general impression that there were multiple armed men here and some of them had been sent to sweep the floors above and below where the main group was. Which of course meant the main group was on the same floor as Root's stupid party because of course it was. The building was supposed to be empty other than for the party, she learned as she listened, and with the power to the elevators cut off no one could get up to the thirtieth floor (where the party was) without taking the stairs.

What she didn't get out of it was what the group was after, though for the moment that didn't matter too much.

She waited until the man walked past her position just a bit and then knocked the grate out with one hard kick and sprang out of the vent like a panther leaping on its prey. The man let out a very unprofessional shriek when she landed on him, and she shut him up by choking him unconscious with the strap from his gun. Her gun now.

The radio communicator, which had fallen on the ground when she'd pounced, crackled to life.

"What's going on down there? I'm sending backup."

Shaw ignored the radio in favor of looting the unconscious man for weaponry. There was a very nice combat knife strapped to his ankle that she inspected with satisfaction.

"Guess I made Santa's nice list after all," she said to herself as she tucked the knife away.

Her eyes fell on the bag the man had been carrying. Now what would an armed thug be carrying around in a bag with him? She unzipped it.

"Well, Merry Christmas to me."

Other than the disturbing amount of C4 in the bag, there was also a spare earpiece communication device of some sort that wouldn't do her much good on its own. Or wouldn't if she didn't have the world's most powerful AI on her side who was hopefully paying attention.

"Can you call Reese on this thing?" she asked as she put the earpiece in. She'd call Root next, but she wanted Reese to get his ass in gear and give her some backup first.

There was some static on the line and then the sound of a phone ringing.

___________________

"It suits you very well," Reese said as he adjusted the headband on Bear. It had been hard to get the red puffball to stay on Bear's nose, but the fake antlers had fit him perfectly and he looked very handsome in his festive cape. And more importantly, Shaw would hate it.

Up in the front seat, the radio blared Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and drowned out the sound of a cell phone vibrating in the cup holder.

___________________

"What the fuck is he doing? Fine. Whatever. Put me through to Root."

The sound of footsteps on the stairs drew Shaw's attention. At least two, probably three, and somehow she doubted they'd come down to invite her to the party.

"Hold that thought for one second," she told the Machine. "Gotta go serve some holiday punch."

___________________

Root was suffering horribly. She'd finally managed to get herself into a good position to watch the man at the computer across the hall, and she could now clearly see that he was trying to hack into the system here, undoubtedly to gain access to some of the company accounts or something equally boring and unoriginal.

The problem she was having though was that he was terrible at his job and she had to sit there quietly and watch him fumble about like he'd never broken into the servers of a security technology company before. Pathetic. It was all she could do to stop herself from going over there and ripping the keyboard away from him and doing it herself.

She was weighing the pros and cons of doing just that when the leader of the group walked by having a frantic conversation with one of the other men. The fact they were speaking in German would have been an issue if the Machine hadn't helpfully translated it all for her.

Apparently they'd lost contact with the three men they'd sent to look into a disturbance on the floor below and they needed to start the elevators again so their backup on the third floor could reach them.

A disturbance. Root smiled. She knew exactly what sort of disturbance could take down three armed men with no effort.

With perfect timing, a voice that wasn't the Machine's whispered in Root's ear. "Root? You there?"

Root moved a little further away from the others and lowered her voice. "Hey, sweetie. I hear you're having fun."

"What the hell is going on up there?"

"Oh, the usual. They're just after money. But Shaw, the hacker they brought with them is terrible. You wouldn't believe what he's--"

"Root. Focus. What's your situation like there?"

"There's only a few men left here besides the leader but they're going to restart the elevators to bring up more people from the third floor."

"The elevators, huh?" There was some rustling over the line. "Say, Root, can the Machine confirm that there's no one else in the building below us other than the bad guys?"

"She says there isn't. Why? What're you going to do?"

"You'll see. Or hear."

And then Shaw was gone leaving Root still stuck in a room full of useless hostages and idiotic thieves. Why did Shaw get to have all the fun?

"This whole sitting here doing nothing thing isn't really working for me," she told the Machine, "so unless you have a bet--"

A deafening boom roared through the room and the entire building shook. Overhead the emergency sprinklers switched on, drenching the already panicked hostages. The man in charge of the thieves and one of his men were yelling at each other in German again and waving their guns around.

They were, the Machine informed her, going to take the hostages up to the top floor and leave the hacker and one or two guards behind here to finish the job.

"Sounds like it's my turn to have some fun then."

And finally the Machine agreed with her.

___________________

In the five minutes between hearing footsteps on the stairs and calling Root, Shaw had incapacitated all three men who'd come to find her. One of the men now had a broken arm, another a broken nose and three less teeth, and the last one had a few minor stab wounds he'd most likely survive.

Shaw had an exciting array of cuts and bruises, and a bullet graze on one arm that wasn't serious but did bleed an annoying amount. But more importantly she had a captive audience (literally) to watch her strap the C4 she'd found to an office chair. She'd gagged all the men when she'd tied them up of course, but she could see the sheer terror in their eyes at the sight of all the plastic explosives in her hands.

It took a lot of effort to pry apart the doors to the elevator shaft and brace them open with a metal pipe. Way down below she could see an elevator car descending to pick up the backup that Root had managed. Just in time.

There were probably other ways to stop the elevator, but Shaw had been shot, punched, and skinned both her elbows in the vents. Also she'd ripped her second most favorite tank top. There would be no mercy today. Especially not for the Christmas sweater that was undoubtedly still in the elevator shaft somewhere.

"You can't do that!" One of her prisoners had somehow spit out his gag. "You'll bring the whole building down with us in it!"

Shaw grinned at him as she wheeled the chair of C4 over to the elevator and held it balancing on the edge.

"Yippee ki yay, motherfucker," she said with a wink. And then she let go of the chair.

___________________

"In here, Shaw," Root called without turning around.

"Yeah, you left a trail of unconscious bodies leading right to you," said Shaw from behind her. "How'd the one guy end up hanging from the ceiling fan anyway? And what are you doing on there?"

Root didn't look away from the computer screen. "They were trying to hack in, but Leeroy here is very bad at his job." She gestured at the hacker tied to the chair next to her. "I'm giving him a free demonstration on how to do his job. He should be thanking me." Which he might have been able to do if he hadn't passed out in terror when she'd threatened him with her taser earlier. It wasn't her fault that he was missing out. "This server was cut off from any external network before, but I've given the Machine access now. Might come in handy. You never know."

"Uh-huh, and what happened to all the hostages?"

Root finally looked away from the screen and forgot what she'd been going to say when she caught sight of Shaw. The blood, the sweat, the ripped tank top, messy hair, and bare arms. This was definitely what she'd asked Santa for. Her glasses were in serious danger of fogging up.

"Root? The hostages?"

"Hmm? Oh, them. I locked them out on the roof. They were loud." And then at Shaw's disbelieving look she added, "Well, I did deal with all the bad guys first so it's not like they're really in danger and the Machine has helicopters en route to come rescue them before they freeze to death." It wasn't like she'd left them out there without their coats or anything. She wasn't heartless!

"So are we done here then? Because I think the NYPD are probably going to be crawling all over here looking for whoever blew out all the windows on the ten lowest floors of the building."

"The Machine is taking care of that as well. We'll be gone before they get here." But Shaw was probably right and they should leave. She got up and straightened out her clothes, which drew her attention to the fact that Shaw did not have on the sweater she'd agreed to wear tonight. "What happened to your sweater, Shaw?"

"Tragic accident. Couldn't be avoided. Next time don't make me wait twenty minutes in the car with Reese and maybe the sweater will survive."

"We'll see about that." She had extras back in their apartment.

They had to take the stairs back down through the ruined building since the elevators were...no longer in service and Root spent the long walk down enjoying the view of Shaw's back and arms. Sure this hadn't been the smoothest number they'd ever handled, but the important thing was they'd both had fun.

And maybe, she thought as she watched Shaw pause on a stair landing and use her shirt tail to wipe some sweat off her face, they had just enough time for a little more fun. Making out in a stairwell hadn't been where she'd expected her day to end up, but the Machine had chosen her for her ability to adapt and improvise so she gave it her all. And while the remnants of the flames from the earlier explosion still flickering around them weren't really the same as a yule log in the hearth, it still felt very seasonal.

Even the stuffed reindeer head on her shirt that kept jabbing Shaw in the stomach when they kissed couldn't ruin the moment.

___________________

"What happened to your sweater?" Reese asked right as Shaw asked, "What the hell happened to my dog?"

To make matters worse, Root was already taking pictures of Bear with her phone which meant the humiliating reindeer cosplay Reese had forced on Bear was being immortalized. Shaw resolved to steal Root's phone later and delete the evidence.

"I got a text I'm assuming was from the Machine that told me not to worry about the rather large explosion in the building I'm parked under," Reese said. "Why do I always miss all the fun?"

"That's what you get for making me listen to shitty music," Shaw said as she opened the door to let Bear back into the car. "Also, you're too tall to crawl through air ducts. Let's get out of here before someone shows up asking questions."

She figured she had a few more hours before all the excitement from the day wore off and she started feeling all the bruises she'd gotten, and she planned to make good use of that time. Getting Root out of the goddamn reindeer sweater was definitely a top priority for multiple reasons.

"Didn't expect Christmas Eve to end with a bang," Reese said as they drove away.

Root piped up from the backseat. "Actually the banging hasn't start--"

Shaw smacked the radio button on and some horribly cheerful song about snow drowned Root out.

#root x shaw #person of interest #shoot winterfest #sameen shaw #root #THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH ASLEEPINAWELL AND MAARIKA #shoot #happy holidays

74 notes · View notes

r4bbitdragon · 2 years

Text

isabella from encanto is the funniest if her development makes her still not a good person, just more uniform about being terrible. she used to be shitty and snide to mirabel only because she was an acceptable target, now she’s shitty and snide to everyone. equality

#words typed

4 notes · View notes

aforrestofstuff · 4 years

Note

TOP 5 FAVE W O M A N MOMENTS

I gotcha, anon. Sorry this is so late! I took forever trying to gather these panels and despite my efforts, they are mostly potato quality. Thanks for your ask, though! ❤️

In no particular order:

1. Fubuki putting the fear of God into Do-S

It’s not often we get to see Fubuki tear shit up, and I think this is the one of only few times we’ve seen her use her signature move in the manga (not counting that one omake where she fucks up all those little spiders). It was up until this point that I thought of her to be super... weak? Like, I thought this whole time she was just using her status as Tatsumaki’s little sister to wrangle up a bunch of hooligans as her underlings but I’ve found that to be a fat fucking lie. She’s super badass in her own right. She even resisted Do-S’ love magic whip thingy because her will is just that strong.

Fubuki doesn’t need to be Tatsumaki’s little sister to be feared, she just needs to be pissed off.

Personally, we don’t give Fubuki enough credit in terms of strength and raw “fuck ‘em up” power. I know she didn’t win this fight (technically), but Do-S is a demon threat monster and even some of the S-Class have a hard time with demon threats (cough cough, Zombieman and Pureblood). And, not to mention, Fubuki was also fending off her entire crew—who were taken under the influence of Do-S’ super BDSM love spell magic—this entire fight!

Darkness Blade was also involved somewhere but this ain’t about him. Moving on:

2: Do-S would’ve straight up merked Amai Mask’s crackheaded ass had he not been an actual freak of nature

(Sorry for the microwave quality pictures but we’ve all read the manga right? Just use your imagination.)

So, prior to Murata reworking the entire “Amai Mask commits homicide via his own damn hands” segment with Do-S, we had Do-S basically surrendering herself to Amai at the sight of him dicing up her love slaves at the speed of light (the merc squad). I did not like this AT ALL. I thought Do-S was a kickass character and for her to have this stupid death scene was really disappointing.

Thankfully, Murata thought the same thing. She still fucking died, of course, but she gets a little more... er, dignity? Idk, she’s just badass.

Amai Mask pretty much slams her skull into the wall, gives her like 13 concussions, and when he thinks he’s in the clear—BAM! Elastigirl powers, bitch! Do-S wraps herself around Amai and utilizes her freaky ass Alien-esque snake tongue to drill into his eyeball as her last stand before death. And this is why I think it’s valid that Fubuki had such a hard time dealing with her, because if it were any other S/A-Class hero (besides Zombieman, Superalloy, Genos... and maybe even Metal Bat) that got their brains drilled into via snake tongue, they would’ve died. If it were Child Emperor, Puri Puri, or even Atomic Samurai at the other end of her attack, they would’ve been FADED, man! It’s only because Amai has those bullshit monster invulnerability powers that he survived.

In conclusion: Do-S got done dirty the first time around, but Murata has since redeemed himself by giving her some wicked elastic powers and nearly dealing the final blow to Amai before dying. She’s also rlly sexy uwu

3. It is written somewhere in the Geneva Conventions that using Captain Mizuki’s thighs as a means of destruction is considered a war crime

First of all: holy fuck I’m horny.

Second of all: UUUH??????? This is 100% just Murata’s death by snu-snu fetish in action but I’m not complaining. Mizuki is super badass. I’m not a fan of this trope that women in male-dominated media have to give up their femininity in order to be taken seriously, so I was expecting at least one female character in OPM to be a mirror reflection of this shitty trend (judging by ONE’s track record of being allergic to women). However, OPM is all about taking tropes and putting them in a meat grinder. Mizuki is super feminine, bubbly, and positive! And that doesn’t make her any less of a fearsome opponent to these monsters, which is something I can really appreciate.

Overall, OPM has very few female characters (which is bad), but the treatment of the few we have is very good when compared to other media of the same medium. I’ve said before how I enjoy the fact that both sexes are treated as equal opportunity fanservicing, and I think it’s fitting to reverberate that here.

Mizuki is hot as hell, but she’s also strong, fun, and a ray of fucking sunshine. Her and Mumen would be great friends, now that I think of it!

4. Shadow Ring said SIKE

UNDERAPPRECIATED QUEEN RIGHT HERE ^^^^^^^

She’s so badass in the entirety of the surface strike sequence we get before the heroes enter the Monster Association base (take a shot every time I say badass. Try it, you’ll die).

I was super impressed by how strong she is?? And the whole time I’m reading this fight sequence I’m just like.... why aren’t we seeing more of her. She should have just as much screen time as Stinger! She was even noticed by Ninja Extraordinaire, Flash Flash; and she played a pretty big part in getting the S-Class to open their eyes to the combat prowess of the lower classes. If it weren’t for her, I fully believe the strike team would’ve had a much harder time penetrating the monsters’ defenses.

Also she’s cute as hell. All of the other female characters in OPM are over the top supermodel sexy (again, not complaining), so it’s refreshing to get someone that goes against the status quo (which as I’ve said before, OPM is kinda all about). Whenever we see her unmasked in those little volume extras Murata makes, I just want to squeeze her cheeks like an annoying aunt.

I forgot to mention this in the Mizuki section, but I think it also applies here: her teammates never point out the fact that she’s a woman. There’s no commentary on it, no snide “oh hurr hurr you’re a girl under the mask?” comments, just women kicking ass and male counterparts kicking ass alongside them, which is another thing I appreciate. It’s not often we get women in manga just.... existing. It seems there’s always gotta be a good reason for writers to insert female characters into their stories (WHY), but not here. Shadow Ring’s sole purpose in the story is to kill monsters and look cool while doing it. She gets the same treatment as all the other himbos around her.

I am completely aware that my say on the subject of gender equality in media could be completely invalid because I’m a cis dude but those are just my THOTS

5. Lily being 14 and always ready to murder

Lily stole my wallet and kicked my ass :(

#asks #ask game #Fubuki #do s #OPM #one punch man #captain Mizuki #metal bat #child emperor #zombieman #shadow ring #flashy flash #atomic samurai #Amai mask #Tatsumaki

106 notes · View notes

powerosewaterpuff · 3 years

Text

yk so i was watching bmw (boy meets world :) ) while procrastinating an essay so oF COURSE i decided to write some more of my reverse robin au (that pertains to jason being the oldest of the batkids w/ him and dick growing up together) except fLUFF bc i cannot handle angst rn (oR cOulD I wE wiLL nEvER kNoWwwW)

oh and disclaimer there may be several medical inaccuracies so please feel free to correct me :)

jason often gets night terrors, ones that can get particularly awful when bruce goes on an overnight business trip. so one night bruce is in new york after being forced into it by lucius, with dick being adopted for some time now. dick was awake because he was having trouble sleeping, for no real particular reason in all honesty. he heard a short yell though, coming from the room next to him and he dashed over, tripping over his blanket and still gripping zitka tightly. he knew that he wasn’t supposed to fight yet, but he doesn’t really think about that as he yanked jason’s door open.

he then saw his brother laying on his side, turning back and forth, breathing heavily looking so visibly pained it was hurting dick. he rushed over to jason, his eyes darting around because he just didn’t know what to do. taking his chances he tapped jason’s shoulder gently, and he already felt like it wasn’t the right move but he sucked it up and tried again, only this time to some result. jason shot up, gripping on tightly to dick’s arm, his eyes hazy and unfocused and his chest heaving.

dick remained still, only slowly trying to push jason off of him and back into his bed. jason’s grip didn’t let but he laid back in bed, squeezing his eyes tightly as if he was trying to push away everything he had just witnessed. dick took this as an initiative to gently climb into bed, as jason fell back into a less violent but equally as stressful sleep. he placed zitka next to jason, who still hasn’t let go of his arm, and awkwardly sat up in bed, almost acting as a protector. slowly, dick began to doze off, feeling a lot more comforted in his brothers prescence then he had been in his own room.

jason on the other hand, doesn’t remember much of that night, as he rarely fully remembers any of his night terrors (only the scars they leave behind), but when he wakes up at the ass crack of dawn with a few fragments of something he would prefer not to remember, he puts it together rather quickly. he guessed it would happen, and he could’ve told bruce and he knew the guy would drop anything in a heartbeat, but that pissed him off, more so then it justifiably should. he wasn’t a child and he hadn’t been a child for a long fucking time, and it was stupid that he couldn’t deal with a single night without bruce. jason then turned onto his side, disgruntled with a new found rage directed at himself that he might take out on someone else, when he found dick, sleeping at an awkward position.

he was leaning on the headboard, but was slumped down and drooling a bit, which would have been hilarious blackmail material on any other given day. but today, jason felt a pit in his stomach. the only rational thought that his mind could conjure in its fear muddled frenzy was please tell me i didn’t hurt dick, pleasepleasepleaseplease. he quickly checked over dick’s face, cupping his checks and looking for any signs of a bruise. he had given bruce a particularly nasty one earlier in his tenure at the manor, after bruce attempted to restrain him while he was having a night terror so he could avoid hurting himself, instead jason kicked him in the jaw. he even felt bad about it the next day, which was an odd surprise for him at the time.

after checking over dick hasilty, he could see he wasn’t all that hurt, even though if he looked hard enough he could see inklings of nail shaped markings in dick’s right arm just under his shirt sleeve. jason felt a bit of bile rising up, as he gently shifted dick into a better sleeping position, and pulled the blanket up to his chin and slipped a pillow underneath him. dick opened his bleary eyes, mumbling jason’s name in question, and squinting his eyes. jason rolled his eyes but nodded, “yeah, it’s me. now sleep–why’re you shaking yer head? you don’ wanna sleep? too bad.” jason pressed another pillow onto the side of dicks face in a teasing attempt to smother him to sleep, but dick only proceeded to giggle, and snuggle closer to jason, who had sat up already. jason tossed the pillow to the side after a few seconds of play fighting, dick was going to be too sleepy to remember this break in the ‘teasing older brother’ façade. so, he ran his hand through his little brothers hair and laid back down, tracing soft circles into dick’s scalp absentmindedly. and feeling a rush of gratitude that bruce had brought this little circus boy into his life. he really didn’t know what he would do without his little brother. (needless to say, dick became a constant comforter in jason’s night terrors).

jason blames dick for everything. if a vase got knocked over, it was a dick. if the tv wasn’t working, dick had been playing with the satellite. if his phone was missing, dick stole it to play games. if his sweater had a stain, you better bet it was dick. the boy in question, of course, adamantly denies these facts and does have a way of persuading bruce (he is the golden child after all, jason could testify to that), but bruce also knows both of his boys are annoyingly good liars. so every incident is treated like a little miniature crime scene, and it never fails to make jason howl in laughter at dick explaining how he couldn’t have possibly used up jason’s shampoo because he has his own washroom with his own shampoo and so w h y jason w h y would i steal your shampoo. (jason’s usual response is a deadpanned ‘why wouldn’t you’, and that just gives bruce another headache as the two bicker on and on and on.)

the pair of them usually go biking together, and it’s usually quite tranquil to start. until dick makes a sly comment that jason’s old bones must be so tired from cycling, so why not take a break? jason snide reponse is how the fuck are you touching the pedals with your stubby ass legs. that’s really all it takes for them to delve into a full on biking race. it never really ends well, but the two always come out rolling in laughter so whose to complain.

dick thinks real housewives of beverly hills is better then new jersey, and jason is adamant that new jersey is superior in every shape and way. the two agree that atlanta is the absolute winner no matter what though.

jason is dick’s english tutor. and it’s safe to say that it’s an experience. dick already knew a fair amount of english growing up, his father had been a wonderful teacher but it wasn’t exactly up to gotham academy standards apparently (jason knew the feeling) and his accent was still quite prevalent to have him be considered an esl kid, so jason ended up being his tutor once dick started going to english class at school and after his time with an esl instructor. jason, who has an untapped passion for literature that not many can match, is absolutely dedicated to teaching dick, because fuck man this is genius! genius, dick! and dick isn’t exactly a fan, but he does secretly think jason should be a teacher, he’s better then any of the teachers he’s had that’s for sure (his father would’ve really loved jason too, that was also for sure). and dick is considering buying him a little briefcase with his little initials on it. ((it happens, and jason tries really really hard not to cry))

bruce is absolutely that parent that secretly takes pictures of every single moment possible. he isn’t a photographer, in any sense, but he likes to capture natural moments, and he has a series of pictures dedicated to the one trip him and the boys took to Barbados where he started this habit. he wasn’t and still isn’t a big fan of beaches, they’re hot, crowded and just too much for bruce to feel any kind of comfortable in. he remembers sitting under a floppy beach umbrella, feeling the knot in his chest sit heavily on his heart, fire ants scurrying across the underlining of his skin, burning under the side stares of those passing by. it wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of dick riding on jason’s little shoulders, as they trotted around waist deep in the clear ocean water, that the fist squeezing his heart like the rotten fruit it was began to ease. he glanced down at the camera that alfred had subtly slipped into their bag after dicks insistence, and lifted it up to fiddle with it slightly. then raised it up to take a swift picture. capturing jason mid laughter as he leaned back, in a joking attempt to shake dick off who was in the middle of a yelp but had entrenched his hands in jason’s mop of curly hair. it was hilarious imperfect, but bruce would not want it any other way. not at all.

(jason found it once. he saw the picture at the corner of his eye sitting by the keyboard of the ‘Batcomputer’ ((dick was so shitty with names, thank god he didn’t come up with flippy man as his code name )), and he hesitated for a moment before hastily grabbing it. examining it with an unexpected amount of gentleness, he rubbed his thumb against the glass above dick’s hands in his hair and felt something snake around his heart. slowly and methodically seeping into it until he felt like he couldn’t fucking breathe. then he heard damian trotting down the stairs as he explained the details of his anthropology class to dick who was hopping down behind him. jason shoves the picture back and grits his teeth together to ignore the sting that was absolutely not in his eyes)

aAAAND THATS ALL!! i’ve had these in my notes for a while so it’s relief to get them out there hehe so i really hope y’all enjoy ive legit been falling in love with this reverse au bC THERE IS SO MUCH POTENTIAL U G H IVE NEVER BEEN EXCITED TO WRITE SHIT UNTIL NOW SO Y A Y FOR INSPIRATION

Y A Y :)

59 notes · View notes

morikouwu · 4 years

Note

How about some Bakubabe soft lovely-dovey stuff as payback for your Outside fic, cause that shit HURTED. Like you’ve been in the dumbs lately, and your lovely boyfriend true to himself, has no clue as what to do except cuddle the everloving shit outta you. and maybe stuff some ramen he made down your gob because ‘you’re not gonna be sad AND hungry on my watch damnit’’also hydrate ya dummy’’jk jk bby ily ❤️💖💕’

Okay first of all, thank you for reading my angsty Outside fic 😳🥺 there will be a alt ending that hopefully wont hurt as much lol, and secondly thank you for sending me my first request! 💖 This request really hits home with me right now because I to have been dealing with feeling sad and just down.

I hope you like it Anon! 💖

Warnings: Cussing (its bakugou) and teeth rotting fluff!

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

It’s your last day off from work and all you wanted to do was lay around. You had no energy for anything else. Lately, you have been feeling pretty down. You felt the familiar black cloud start to form over your head. You hated that you could tell it was coming but felt like there was nothing you could do to stop it.

So what you did do was lay on the couch in your living room in front of the tv that was on a random channel because you just couldn’t seem to pay attention to it. The tv filled your small living room with drowned out noise that seemed far away in your head. It wasn’t until you heard your front door opening an then closing with a definite bang and the shuffling of shoes being taken off that you realized just how long you must have been on the couch.

“Oi! Dumbass where are ya’?” you heard your hot headed boyfriend of 10 months call out. If it was any other day you would have barked out a equally snide remark to answer him, but you just couldn’t find the energy to form the words. “hmmmph” is what came out instead. That was more than enough for your perceptive boyfriend to find you. He had stomped his way to the living room, ready to give you a teasing earful on how to properly greet someone but all his jeering comments flew out the window the moment his vermilion eyes fell onto your feeble form curled into a ball on the old couch.

His throat felt tight and constricted as he made his way to you, already hating seeing you like this. Where was his annoyingly outgoing partner that he fell for? You felt the couch dip next to you, already feeling the warmth Katsuki always brought with him wherever he went. “Hey..” his softer than usual voice made your eyes land on him. “Hi” you manage to let out. He lets his sharp eyes sweep over you. He notices that you are wearing one of his old t shirts that he graciously gave you after you pestered him non stop about wanting something to remind you of him when he wasn’t there with you. Bakugou wasn’t an idiot. He knew when there was something bothering you. And he also knew what it felt like to have a black cloud follow you around. But did that mean he knows what to do to make you feel better? No. No it did not. He wasn’t an idiot but he definitely wasn’t good with emotions and comforting people!

You feel his muscular legs bounce next to you. You go to ask him what up before he gets up and heads in the direction of your modest kitchen. You faintly hear the fridge door open, the sound of bottles and jars moving and clinking together before the door closes and you hear the familiar sound of your boyfriend making his way back to you. Next thing you know there’s a ice cold water bottle being shoved in front of you. You look up to Katsuki quietly questioning him with your eyes. “Drink you shitty dumbass!” He shakes the bottle in front of you as you slowly push yourself into a sitting position. “I bet you haven’t drank or even eaten anything today” You stay quiet as you purse your lips in mock thought. He presses the cold bottle against your cheek making you yelp in shock before grabbing the bottle to get him to stop. He stands there with his arms crossed against his chest. “I ain’t leaving here until I see you drink.” You want to roll your eyes but you know hes acting this way because hes worried about you. So you twist open the bottle and take a sip. The cold water feeling foreign in your dry mouth. When did your mouth get so dry? How long have your lips been this chapped??

You hear Katsuki let out a relieved sigh as he sees you take another drink of water. “Listen here ya damn nerd, you are gonna stay here and keep drinking your water while I go make ya something decent to eat. When I get back, that bottle better be finished. Got it?” His tone leaves no room for argument but you can’t help but let out a small smile. The icy cold water already seeming to clear a little bit of the fog you have been in all day. So much so that you have juuust enough energy to playfully salute to your boyfriend and say “sir yes sir” tauntingly. You hear your hot headed boyfriend utter his infamous “Tch” before he goes back to the kitchen. You didn’t miss the way the corners of his mouth twitched up before turning his back to you.

Katsuki is in the kitchen for about half an hour. The only noises you hear are the clinking and clanking of pots and pans. You do as you are told though. You sipped your water, feeling the icy cold settle into your empty stomach. By the time you hear Katsuki’s heavy footsteps make their way back to your spot on the couch, your bottle is haphazardly sitting on the small coffee table in front of you.

You again feel the couch dip next to you, seeing your boyfriend holding two bowls of steaming hot ramen. He holds a bowl out to you for you to take, which you do. The aroma hits your nose immediately. Did he really make this heavenly smelling meal with what little groceries you had?? Your eyes dart to him taking in just how handsome your boyfriend really is, but his ruby eyes are already on you. You see him raise a pointed eyebrow to you. “Well? What are ya starin at me for idiot? Eat up dammit.” Your face flushes at getting caught ogling before you bring your attention back to the bowl in front of you. You grab a forkful of noodles and lightly blow on it before bringing it to your awaiting mouth. You swear your boyfriend is a wizard with how good he can make food.

In no time at all you have both finished your bowls and they sit there along with your water bottle on the coffee table. You feel Katsuki shuffle. Hes laying down before he pulls you to lay against him. You hear his strong steady heart beat as his huge hands lay along your back. His fingers kneading random patterns into your back as you let the warmth that is your boyfriend take over. The scent of caramel and burning sugar coaxing you to relax. “Next time you feel like this... you let me know.. ya hear me idiot?” You can barley make out his soft voice over the steady beat of his heart. Your eyes already feeling heavy as you lay there against him. You cuddle more against him before leaning your chin on his chest. You look into those vermilion eyes that always seem to be on you. “I love you blasty” That earns you a pinch to your side. “Yeah yeah.. i love you too dumbass.”

#bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugou fluff #requests open bhna #kachaan #bnha #requests #fluff #writing

71 notes · View notes

milliethekitty27-writing · 4 years

Text

Dampfnudel

Gilbert never understood why he baked. Ludwig had gotten loads of comments about how soldiers didn’t cook like that, it was a very Austrian thing to do, bla bla bla. At the time it had bothered Ludwig a little, but now he ignored the snide comments.

He’d had a hard time making friends when he was younger. He’d been quiet and serious and Gilbert was a handful, but he’d had to move around a lot. He had never been a people-person and despite his many skills and talents, emotions weren’t one of them. He had them, sure, but sometimes he didn’t know how to fix things.

He’d learned to bake very early on, sitting in Roderich’s kitchen. He’d watched Roderich doing something after a particularly stressful meeting. “Baking is good for the soul.” Roderich had said, kneading dough. “It’s soothing. Every nation should be able to cook. And everyone makes food and needs it. It’s a language everyone speaks. Pass me the flour to your left.” Ludwig had tried it the next day, standing on a step stool next to the older man, and slowly learned to make rolls.

Ludwig could spend hours in the kitchen. He’d look for the perfect recipe for his mood (a tart? A cake? Or maybe something savory?) before going through his meticulously well stocked kitchen. He’d spend hours getting everything tasting just right and decorating it.

It was one thing that he and Roderich could do together, honestly. They both worked well (even if Ludwig was much neater) and they could listen to music without a problem. They often did the Christmas baking while Gilbert did the decorating with whoever decided to show up.

Over the years, Ludwig had learned many recipes. He’d done it out of curiosity (new regions meant new cuisines, and while he wasn’t the worst chef his heart lay in baking with the precise measurements and timing) and for fun, but he’d discovered what his friends and allies liked the most.

When he’d first met Alfred, many years ago when Alfred was a fresh new nation, Alfred had enthusiastically told him about apple pie. They’d spent a few hours making a mess in the kitchen but the end result had been deliciously flaky. He and Alfred hadn’t made it again, but Ludwig still made it every once in a while. He’d added some to it, and he was planning on making it for Alfred at some point just to see what he thought. More recently, though, Alfred had fallen in love with cheesecake. Ludwig sometimes couldn’t get it to set, but they were going to have a contest for flavors at some point. The apple pie would be the grand test.

He’d learned to make dobos torta when he’d lived with Roderich and Erzsébet years ago. He’d sat in the kitchens and listened to Hungary talk, and she’d shown him how to layer a cake and fill it with buttercream. She had a secret way to prepare walnuts (which she still refused to tell him) and in turn he messed with the flavors. She laughed at him when he did it. Her recipe was still better, but one day he’d be able to beat her.

Roderich’s lindertorte was a masterpiece. Ludwig didn’t try to make it, because it was Roderich’s thing, but he’d watch Roderich make it so many times that he knew how to do it. He had fond memories at Christmas, during the Cold War when everything else was so far and few people would speak to him, of Roderich showing up carrying half a lindertorte. They’d sat down in his recently rebuilt house, the candles lining the windows, and enjoyed each others company.

He had learned many French recipes in his travels to France, but Francis was a cook, not a baker. He liked to bake well enough but Francis preferred to cook a mouthwatering, fall off the bone beef with a gorgeous side. Ludwig liked to visit Paris and wander through the cafes. He had taken a cooking class, just for fun, and they’d made eclairs. He enjoyed the rhythmic filling up and the shiny chocolate glaze. He’d sent a box to Francis after soundly kicking his ass in football one year (Gilbert had kindly filmed it). While the outside was decorated in French colors, the inside creams had been meticulously colored as the German flag. Francis had screeched.

For Belle he made chocolates. They’d spent a few days in a chocolate shop, when they were trying to be a bit more civil following the two wars. Tim had appeared out of nowhere and ended up with a splattering of chocolate on his face, and that had somehow led to all three being covered in chocolate. Belle had laughed so hard that she’d fallen on the ground at the sight of the two serious nations covered in sweets.

With Arthur he’d learned to do tea time, because Arthur could be a snob, but tiny beautiful cakes with fine details were time consuming and satisfying to finish on the days when the world went crazy. Arthur sent him boxes of teas and recipes when he found interesting ones, and some days they’d sit together and read while eating cakes.

The Italian brothers, ironically enough, both liked cannolis. He’d learned that when he and Feliciano first became allies. Lovino hadn’t been very impressed, declaring it a shitty first attempt, but he’d still cleaned his plate. He’d sent a box of it to Feliciano, after the war, with an apology note, and it had been a first step in talking to him again. Feliciano would spend hours helping him make the recipes, and they’d experiment with all kinds of Italian desserts.

He and Kiku wandered the streets when he visited, finding interesting restaurants, and they’d bonded over a love of food in the first years of allianceship. Kiku understood his interest and often entertained it (cook books were a common gift, and he spent ages letting Ludwig putter around the kitchen to practice new skills) Kiku’s favorite sweet was okoshi. After the dust of World War II started to clear, Ludwig had gone to visit. He’d brought a pack of okoshi with him, that he’d tried to make himself. Kiku had looked up from where he was sitting at the desk, actually laughed, then told him it wasn��t the worst thing he’d ever eaten (so it was terrible) and they’d maybe try to make it later. They had. Ludwig was planning on visiting later this year. They were going to try to make daifuku again. The first time they’d done it, Ludwig had ended up with more covering his hands and he’d gotten Kiku to laugh.

Ludwig was no master baker, that was true, but he knew his way around a kitchen and the tools. He liked to do it. He had sent personal peace offerings to his fellows through food, gotten lost after an in depth conversation with a baker. He went to local bakeries for breakfast and any other meal and he loved few things more than the smell of something in the oven. He’d found a recipe for some type of baked good for nearly every nation, even the ones he didn’t know well.

Gilbert was the enigma, though.

Gilbert had claimed he didn’t have a sweet tooth, and it was true. For all of Gilbert’s habits, he rarely ate sweets. He drank more than anyone Ludwig knew (except maybe Arthur) and ate pretty much anything, but he often had another plate of mashed potatoes and wurst before a German chocolate cake. (which was Ludwig’s personal favorite, for the record)

It had taken a bit of work, but eventually Erzsébet had told him that Gilbert hadn’t been able to have many sweets growing up (like many of the nations hadn’t) and that he’d simply never developed the taste for them. He was used to long marches and cold winters - he preferred to eat something good and hearty to get him through the night rather than the “prissy little cakes that Glasses eats.”

There had been one thing, though, that Ludwig had found his brother liked. He’d discovered it by accident. They’d been at a Christmas market, just exploring, and there had been a few food trucks. Ludwig had bought a dampfnudel just because he could (and it was covered in cherry and vanilla sauce) but his brother was pitching a bit of a fit because they were somehow out of sausages. (they weren’t - there were more being cooked, but hungry Gilbert equals bitchy Gilbert) Ludwig had lost his patience and simple shoved the dampfnudel into Gilbert’s mouth. Gilbert had sputtered a bit, but ended up stealing the rest of it to eat himself.

Ludwig learned to make dampfnudel from there. He mastered a gorgeous cherry sauce and a heavenly vanilla sauce. He’d tried hundreds of dampfnudel recipes and tried different timings and spices. His recipe was unique and delicious. He didn’t make it often, but on the days when Gilbert looked most down, most quiet, on the days when Gilbert spent hours looking out the window? Ludwig went into the kitchen and made dampfnudel. He’d put the plate next to his brother and sit down next to him. They didn’t need to speak, but Gilbert would finish the plate, nudge him, and things would go back to normal within the hour.

Ludwig loved to bake for many reasons, but connecting with people through food? That was a language everyone spoke.

----

Thank you for reading!

This piece can be found on AO3 here

My friends and I are doing a Friendsgiving (I’ve never done it before) and it’s going to be a very interesting affair. They’re making Indian food but I wanted to make Dampfnudel for the first time. (I know I like it, just never made it) I was talking about it on the phone and just saying the word made me feel incredibly German. I like the idea that all the nations have their little quirks for settling down, and a baking Germany sounds like a great time.

I’ll be posting a little less frequently this month - I’ve been slammed with some school work and am in a bit of a panic, and my motivation is all over the place. I’ll try to make up for it in November! Have a great week.

#writing #fanfiction #hetalia #axis powers hetalia #aph germany #ludwig beilschmidt #look if you can bake/cook #everyone wants to be your friend #and it's great when people like your food!#but also terrifying because if it is bad #your reputation is RUINED

10 notes · View notes

yoonguurt · 5 years

Text

For the grade

Genre: enemies to lovers

Warnings: smut; fingering

Word count: 5,506

Y/N and Jaebum hate each other. What happens when they''re forced to work together for a school project?

You liked to life with as little negativity as possible. Sure, you had bad days, but you went through those knowing that it was simply a bad day and the next would likely be better. You really didn't have anything to complain about.Your friends were great, supportive people, your family as well. You had just one rainy cloud in your sunshine life. Lim Jaebum.

It's not like you wanted to hate Jaebum, you didn't. In fact, you really wanted to like him, you had tried to like him. He just made that near impossible. He was rude and cold. When you first met him, you wondered how someone you had just met could already hate you so much. You had met last year at your best friend Mark's end of the year party. Mark had moved into an off campus apartment and he and his roommate had decided to through the party this year. You got there early to help Mark set everything up. When you knocked on the door, Jaebum answered, scowl on his face. He merely grunted at your presence and moved aside to let you in. Throughout the night, he either acted upset at your being around or ignored you completely.

So here you were, beginning of your senior year of college, still dealing with Jaebum's shitty attitude. You had long since given up on trying to be civil and treated him as he treated you. You were supposed to meet up with Mark for coffee today, but he texted you this morning saying he felt ill. Being the good friend you were, and not trusting him to take care of himself, you decided to head to his apartment with medicine, soup and juice to take care of your best friend. The fact that Jaebum had classes all day today, made your decision that much easier. Mark had given you a spare key for emergencies, so once you arrived, you just went ahead and let yourself in.

Setting your supplies on the counter, you turned to the cabinet and grabbed a bowl and a glass. You set those on the counter, and turned back around to grab the soup. Reaching for the can, you looked up when you heard a voice. "How did you get in here?" Standing before you, stood a shirtless Jaebum. Without even meaning to, your eyes scanned down his chiseled form. You had never realized just how cut the man was. You hated to admit it, but he looked good. "You gonna stare all day or are you gonna give me an answer?" his voice snapped you out of your thoughts. "Mark gave me a key" you replied, voice laced with annoyance, "and for Pete's sake go put some clothes on." You turned around to continue your tasks, not noticing the smirk on Jaebum's face as he walked away.

When you finished heating the soup, you knocked in Mark's bedroom door, only to be met with some form of groan. Taking that as permission, you opened the door only to see a Mark size lump on the bed. Yanking the blanket off of his head, he let out another whine before turning to face you. "What the hell, Y/N?" Why are you here?" his voice was rough, either from sleep or sickness. You chuckled lightly before replying "Well, I know you and I knew you wouldn't take care of yourself so here I am." He gave you a small smile and you made him sit up so he could eat.

"I'm just saying that he didn't have to act like I broke in or something. Why is he even here, doesn't he have classes all day? And does he always walk around half naked? I mean-" your rant was interrupted by an obviously annoyed Mark. "Y/N, don't take this the wrong way but I'm sick and I really don't want to hear about the crush denial you have for JB." You actually reeled back as if you had been slapped. You? Crush? Jaebum? Absolutely not. No way. Not if he was the last man on Earth. Turning to Mark, you narrowed your eyes. "I do not have a crush on him." You were met with Mark's stupid smirk, the one he gets when he thinks he's right. "I mean it. I hate him." you continued only to still see that smirk. "Sure, Y/N. Whatever you say".

For the next week, you were at Mark and Jaebum's every day taking care of Mark. By the fourth day, you were pretty sure he was faking so you'd keep taking care of him, but you did it anyway. What are best friends for, right? On day five, Jaebum was home all day and that was an annoyance. The day was filled with snide comments and looks of dislike from the both of you. Mark had tried to get you two to at least be civil to no avail. He had even yelled once, something about both of your actions being a sham, but neither of you paid attention. You both just told him to hush and go lie back down. Finally, your time playing nurse was over and you could focus on yourself and your classes.

As a photography major, you took your classes very seriously. You had always had an eye for pictures. You could look at the most mundane things and immediately find a way to make them look beautiful through a lens. You knew all the right angles to turn any random thing into art. Being in a college where you could learn better ways to use those talents, was something you considered a great honor. You even shared a class with some film majors, which you were excited about. Getting to learn about video editing was going to be really neat. Until you got to said class and saw a familiar face. Lim Jaebum. Was there any escaping this man?

Ignoring the empty seat next to the smirking man, you walked to the other side of the room and found a seat there. Sure, you couldn't see the board very well and this particular area smelled odd, but you were far enough away from the thorn in your side that was Jaebum. Your professor introduced himself and began the class as you took as many notes as you could. As the lecture ended, he announced that the class would be divided into pairs and work through the semester on a project. You would receive your partner in an email. The project itself was up to the two of you. The only requirement was it had to be a 5 minute video about something you were both equally passionate about. You were slightly thrown off at being assigned a project on the first day, but excited.

You had been checking your email religiously for two days. You wanted to know who you were partnered with. The thought of getting to know someone new was nice, but you really wanted to start brainstorming on ideas. There was also a little nervousness. What if you and your partner had no common interests? How were you going to complete your project then? Mark had gotten tired of you staying planted by your computer, so he forced you out to get lunch with him. He even took your phone, which you thoroughly protested. "Staring at your screen isn't going to make the email come any faster, Y/N. Take a break and enjoy lunch with me." Realizing he was right, you let the project drift to the back of your mind and just enjoyed yourself.

A couple of hours later, you were returned to your home. You grabbed your laptop, thinking you'd check one more time before you set off to do something else for a while. Clicking your email tab, you noticed the notification for a new email in your inbox. You quickly clicked it, seeing it was indeed from your professor. Taking a breath and calming your nerves, you opened it. Your mind fluttered through so many thoughts before you read through the message. You still really hoped you and your partner had at least one thing in common, but you were determined to make it work regardless. You eyes scanned through the words to find your partner's name. Shit. Fuck. This was not good. There at the bottom was the name of your partner. Lim Jaebum. This was bad. Very, very bad.

Grabbing your phone, you immediately hit Mark's name and pressed the phone to your ear. After a few rings, Mark's voice comes through the speaker. You don't even let him finish his sentence before you launch into your rant. "Mark, this is bad. I just got my email and my partner is Jaebum. What am I supposed to do? We have nothing in common! We hate each other. We have months to work on this and we aren't going to be able to get anywhere I'm gonna fail." When you stopped to take a breath, Mark took the opportunity to start speaking. "You need to stop being so dramatic, Y/N. I'm positive you guys have something in common, you just have to stop being assholes to each other long enough to figure out what that is." As much as you HATED to admit it, he was right. This was an issue you would have to set aside for your grade. With a huff, you prepared your reply "Tell him to meet me at the campus cafe in 20 minutes." You hung up and sighed again. This was going to be a long semester.

You arrived at the cafe 10 minutes early. You just wanted to get the concept down, get a plan together and get out. You ordered a coffee, sat down and scrolled through your phone until a figure slid into the seat across from you. Expecting it to be Jaebum, you looked up with a scowl already on your face. Instead, you found a man you didn't know facing you. "Sup. I'm BamBam. You looked lonely over here all by yourself." Oh crap. This was the exact opposite of what you wanted. You politely thanked him for the thought, but you were waiting for someone. "Aw come on, baby, don't be like that." he started before a hand roughly on his shoulder. "You heard her, kid. Beat it." Looking up to see who your savior was, you were a bit shocked. Jaebum had never done a nice thing for you before, but there's a first for everything.

After your unwanted guest had left, Jaebum sat in the chair across from you. You were briefly distracted by the way his hair fell in his face in such a beautiful way, you wouldn't even have to mess with the angle that much to make a wonderful picture. You quickly shook your head to rid yourself of such ridiculous thoughts and cleared your throat to get Jaebum's attention. "Look, I know neither of us are happy with this arrangement, but I don't plan on getting a failing grade so we need to try to work around our dislike for each other. As of now, I know nothing about you or your interests, so why don't you tell me a little bit about what you like?" He sat there for a brief moment before sliding you a small piece of paper with a number written on it. He looked at you as his lips parted to speak, "I'll go along with whatever you want. Just call me when you decide" then he stood up and left. Yepp. This was going to be a real shitty semester.

As you walked back to your apartment, you pulled out your phone, dialing Mark's number. He answered with sass, as he always did. "If you called to bitch about JB, save your breath. I'm not listening to it." Of course, that had been what you were going to do, points to Mark on that one. You raced through topics to talk about as quickly as possible before settling on a way to find out Jaebum's interests. "Actually, he didn't give me much information, but I still want to try to make this work, so I called you. What are some of the things he's really passionate about?" You felt silly asking Mark this, but you needed to figure out how to incorporate both of your interests, pride be damned. Mark was silent for a while before you finally asked if he was still there. "Yeah. Thinking. He likes, uh, his cats?" You instantly frowned. Cats? Really? You loved cats but is that the best he could come up with? "Oh! And music! He's really into making music." Music, huh? That's something you could work with.

You hung up with Mark as you walked through your apartment door. You set your phone down and sat down at your laptop, pulled up a word document and began to type an outline for your project. Your plan as of now was to have a music video of sorts. Jaebum could use one of his songs as the music and the video could have some beautiful shots from your photographer's eye. You would each have something you were passionate about in the video. In your mind, it was perfect. Now, you just had to run it by Jaebum. Despite what he said at the cafe, a big part of you felt like he would shoot it down just because it was your idea. Making up your mind that sooner was better than later, you sent him a text explaining your idea. Almost immediately, your phoned dinged with a new message telling you to meet him back at the cafe in 10 minutes. Sighing at having to go right back out, you grabbed your keys and walked out of the door.

Opening the cafe door, you scanned the room, finding Jaebum already there. That was a bit surprising, but you made your way over and took a seat. Before you had even fully sat, he spoke in a harsh tone, "How do you know about my music?" Really? You had to come back to the cafe just to answer a question he could have asked you in a message? "I wanted to make something that had both of our passions in it, not just mine. So, I called Mark and the options he gave me were music and cats. I love cats, but I don't really want to make this video about just cats" you replied with an emotionless tone. He sat and thought about your words for a moment. "Ok, but if we do this, we're doing it my way. You get say, it's your grade too, but this is my music and I want it done right." You agreed that as long as your input was taken into consideration and it wasn't all about him, that this could work.

One week later, you were on your way to Mark and Jaebum's place to give input on song options for the video. You didn't really like the thought of being in their apartment without Mark, but you were excited about starting on the project. Knocking on the door, you felt a sudden urge to run, and you weren't sure why. It was just Jaebum. Sure, you didn't like the guy, but you had no reason to be nervous around him. You pushed the nervous feeling away just in time for him to open the door. He stepped aside to let you in, and gestured to the kitchen counter where there was a whole buffet's worth of food. "I asked Mark what you liked and he gave me a big list so I just got it all" he said rubbing the back of his neck as if he were nervous or embarrassed. You just stood there for a moment, a little shocked, before thanking him. Was Jaebum being nice to you?

You grabbed a small plate of food and the two of you ate in silence. It wasn't as awkward as you had thought it would be, it was actually strangely comfortable. When you were finished, Jaebum led you to the spare bedroom. Well, what you thought was the spare bedroom. Once he opened the door, you realized that he had a small studio set up there. He went straight to his laptop as you sat on the couch. He informed you he had two songs he was thinking of for the video. The first was a more upbeat song, the second being a slower, love type song. As you listened to the latter, you felt your heart ache in the most beautiful way. It was about love not being reciprocated, and your mind was already flooded with ideas. When it was finished, you gave him a sincere compliment on how amazing it was and told him that you would really like that to be the video song. He gave you the first genuine smile you had seen from him, and your heart fluttered.

You very quickly dismissed that flutter, no way you were gonna take that seriously. After some discussion, you agreed to meet at a nearby park the next day to do some location scoping. The leaves would be starting to fall soon and you had an idea for a shot and you wanted to find the perfect place for it. Saying a small, polite goodbye, he followed you to the door saying he'd see you the next day, and sending you off with some of the food he'd ordered. Mark called a few hours later, asking if you wanted to grab some coffee, which you readily agreed to. Making your way to your usual cafe, your mind wandered through all the ideas you had for the project.

"So, how'd it go?" were Mark's first words to you as you sat across from him. "You know, not that bad. We decided on a song and we're going to the park tomorrow to scout and see if it fits what I have in mind." you replied with a small smile. Mark's stupid smirk was prominent on his face as he raised one eyebrow. "You and JB? Getting along? It's almost like someone knew this wouldn't be so bad." You threw the paper from your straw at him, telling him to shut up. "I still don't like him, Mark. This is just for the project. It's important." The smirk didn't leave his face, but he didn't push you anymore on it. And you sure as hell didn't tell him about the heart flutter.

You met Jaebum at around noon the next day. It was a weekday, so the park wasn't overly crowded and the temperature was near perfect. You had your camera handy so you could check lighting and he had brought a tripod and video camera, just in case. Walking along the sidewalk, you came across a group of trees, leaves falling from them. You grabbed a quick picture before setting the strap back across your shoulder and walking to the middle of the trees. You just stood there for a few moments, leaves falling all around you and just looked up at the branches, admiring the beauty of nature. By the time you had turned back around, Jaebum had set the camera up, facing you. "Thought it would be a good idea to get the leaves falling" he spoke quietly, rubbing his neck again. You quickly moved out of the shot so he could get it the way he wanted. You pulled your camera out to snap a few more photos, then noticed Jaebum looking over your shoulder at the screen of your camera. "Those are really good" he half whispered before going back to his own camera.

After the day at the park, you both decided the park would be your primary location. The idea of mostly nature shots coupled with the slow song sounded very appealing to you, and Jaebum agreed. Things went surprisingly well for about a week. You had gotten multiple shots of the leaves, and a few of some children playing in the leaves. You had even convinced Jaebum to have a leaf throwing war with you. Today was a completely different story, though. You had gone to the park and gotten a few nature shots, but in the midst of shooting, it began to rain. You were immediately struck with a desire to get some shots of the downpour. Rain had always been beautiful to you. Jaebum did not agree, however. Sure, your cameras could both withstand some water, but he simply did not want to stay. This led to a slightly heated argument.

"Come on, this could make a really great shot if you'd just LISTEN" your voice slightly louder than normal. He had been very cooperative up until now, but this was something you were not willing to back down on. "Excuse me for not wanting to stand in the rain and get sick!" his voice louder than your own. "Fine, then go! I'll get the shots on my phone and you can deal with the crappy quality!" this time you were actually yelling. He threw his hands up, and walked away to gather his equipment. Not wanting to let him ruin your mood, you did a twirl in the rain, enjoying how the drops felt on your face, before turning around to get a better shot of the park at a distance. You found Jaebum still standing there, camera still on the tripod. "I thought you were leaving?" You spoke with an eyebrow quirked up. "I am. Had one more shot I wanted to get." And with that he packed up and left.

After the rainy day at the park, things were back to being strained between you and Jaebum. You were having more and more arguments, often forgetting to turn the camera off during, which led to more arguments about the amount of footage that would have to be sorted through. You wanted to shoot from this angle, Jaebum wanted to shoot from the opposite angle. It was like he went out of his way to disagree with any suggestions you had. You had been working on the project for over a month, half of which you had spent arguing. You had finally had enough. You were going to confront him about this. Picking up your phone, you typed out a message giving him your address and telling him to meet you there.

An hour later, he was at your door, camera in hand, thinking you had something you wanted to shoot. You invited him in, and he set up his camera to get it out of his hands and not just placed on your table. You gestured for him to sit on the couch, and you sat next to him. Steeling yourself, you finally set into what was on your mind. "What is your problem? We've done nothing but fight for weeks. I say something, you immediately disagree. We were getting along great there for a while, and now we're back to where we started. Speaking of, why do you hate me so much? I tried to be nice to you, I tried to be your friend. You weren't having it. What did I ever do to you, Jaebum? You were a jerk to me the first time I met you and I just don't understan-" you were suddenly cut off by his lips on yours. And even more suddenly, you were kissing him back.

He pulled back after a moment, just for you to pull him back in. He eagerly chased your lips once more. His tongue swiped at your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth for him. Before you realized, he was leaning you back on the couch. He pulled back again, slightly out of breath. "Tell me to stop, and I will." You replied by pulling him to you again and a small "don't " against his lips. He moved his mouth to your neck as his hand traveled down your body, stopping to squeeze your breast. You let out a small moan, encouraging him and you felt a smirk against your neck. His hand continued to trail down your body until he reached the bottom of your shirt. Pausing, he lifted his head to give you a questioning look. You gave a simple nod, and his hand slipped under the cloth and traveled back up.

He moved under your bra, as he squeezed again. He took your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, enticing another moan from you as he nibbled at your neck. As your arousal grew, you began to buck your hips, a silent plea for more. With a throaty chuckle, he whispered against your neck. "Patience, baby." With a whine, you picked up the pace of your hips, needing some kind of relief. At an excruciating speed, his hand began to slide down your body. As he reached the button of your jeans, he gave you another questioning look. "Are you sure?" His face was serious, wanting to make sure you were absolutely certain this was what you wanted. Breathless, you muttered out, "Please."

He let out a small growl at your neediness, as he undid the button of your jeans. Sliding his hand further down, he kept his eyes on your face. When he finally reached your dripping heat, he gave you a smirk. "So wet already." As he guided a finger through your folds, you let out a moan slightly longer than before. He kept up his teasing, simply running his finger through your wetness. His dark eyes still glued to your face, he teased your entrance, before slowly pushing inside of you. He kept his movements slow, wanting to tease. All at once, he picked up the pace as he added a finger. The sudden addition caused you to cry out in pleasure, earning another growl from Jaebum. His thumb rose to find your sensitive bud, staring in slow circles before picking up speed. Your release was building up fast and he picked up the pace once again. Just as the knot in your stomach unraveled, he learned down to whisper in your ear, "Just let go.I've got you." He gave you one last nibble before leaning up to see your face. His words were all you needed for the knot to completely break, causing a cry of his name.

Jaebum helped you ride out your high before planting a kiss to your forehead. He buttoned your jeans for you before getting up to get you a glass of water. He sat back down, and you could see the obvious bulge in his jeans. "What about you?" you managed to get out between gulps of water. He just laughed and shook his head. "Another time if that's something you want. I have some things to say first." You heart stopped briefly. Did he already regret this? All kinds of negative thoughts ran through your mind. As if he could sense your thoughts, he shook his head again.

"It's nothing bad, and I definitely don't regret anything that just happened. You asked me why I hated you. I have never hated you. I'm not good with people, I can come off cold and distant for a while before warming up. After a while, we just got into the routine of arguing and being distant with each other and I just didn't know how to go about changing that. I always wanted to, always wanted to be your friend. As for why things took a turn recently, we were becoming friends and I realized something, " he paused a moment as if to think, "I realized I didn't want to be your friend. I wanted more, but you still hated me so I went back to what I knew. I'm sorry for making you think I hated you." He finished his thoughts and looked away from you.

You sat there trying to process all of the information you were just given. Jaebum had feelings for you. That was not something you expected to hear. He hadn't hated you, but you sure hadn't liked him. When did that change? When did you go from not wanting to be in the same room as him, to laying on your couch with his hand down your pants? Thinking back, you tried to find the moment it changed. Was it the smile? Or maybe him ordering everything he knew you liked to eat? That may have been the start, but you realized the big moment. The leaf fight.

It had taken you quite a while to convince him, but when you finally had, he gave you that beautiful smile again. You took off running into a pile of leaves, him closely behind you. You picked up a handle full of leaves and tossed them directly in his face, letting out a loud laugh. His smile never left his face as he picked up and even bigger handful and retaliated. You spent an hour together just throwing leaves. That was the moment. That was when everything changed.

Realizing you had been in thought for a while, you reached over and grabbed Jaebum's hand. "I'm not going to tell you that I didn't dislike you. I did. I thought you were an ass. But, I no longer feel that way. You can still be an ass, but it isn't all the time. Things changed for me, too. Even through all the arguing we've done lately, I didn't want to argue. I didn't want to go back to how we were. I wanted to move past that. So, " you took a deep breath, "Let's see where things go, yeah?"

Two months later, and it was time to turn in your project. Jaebum had done all the editing and he hadn't let you see it yet. The night before you were set to turn it in, he asked you to come by his apartment to see the final product. You knocked on the door and Mark answered. "Y/N! Are you here to see me today or are you here to see your b-" you cut him off with a shove. "Move, I get to see the video today." He laughed as you shoved by him and made your way to Jeabum's studio. You gave a slight knock before letting yourself in.

He was sitting at his laptop with his headphones on, taking them off when he noticed your presence. You sat in the chair beside him, practically bouncing. He let out a chuckle and turned to his computer, and handed you the headphones. Putting them on as he pressed play, you focused on the screen. You were expecting the familiar melody of his song, but were met with your voice instead. "Come on, this could make a really great shot if you'd just LISTEN" on the screen was a clip of you and Jaebum. It was the rainy day in the park where you argued about shooting in the rain. Confusion washed over you, why was he showing you outtakes of your fight? That clip was followed by more clips of the two of you fighting. After a moment, the music started. The screen was filled with clips you had never seen before. You staring at the leaves, you twirling in the rain, the leaf fight, all things you didn't realize had been captured.

The video played through more clips of you and Jaebum between shots. The music stopped and your voice played again, "Why do you hate me so much?" you winced at the words, not wanting to remember them. The screen transitioned to you and Jaebum on your couch as he grabbed your face and kissed you. As your voice faded out, Jaebum's replaced it. "Passion is different for every person. For most, it is taken as something they enjoy. For me, passion started as an argument, only to grow into something amazing. See, love and hate are two sides of the same coin. A very passionate coin, for you cannot have love or hate without passion." With that, the screen faded to black.

You sat there for a few beats looking at the blank screen. Jaebum carefully lifted the headphones from your head and wiped the tears you hadn't realized had begun to fall. "You hate it. Don't worry I made the original plan, we can still submit that." He moved to exit out of the video, and you grabbed his hand to stop him. "I don't hate it. It was just beautiful and I wasn't expecting it. He wiped more tears as they fell. "Do you want to see the other one?" You shook your head and pulled him in for a kiss. "No. This one is perfect." He gave you a deep kiss before barely pulling back. "I love you" he whispered against your lips. Smiling wide, you replied "I love you too, Lim Jaebum."

#got7 jaebum #jaebum angst #jaebum fluff #jaebum smut #got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 fluff #got7 angst #got7 smut #angst #smut #fluff #lim jaebum #jaebum #enemies to lovers

580 notes · View notes