#haven’t drawn in awhile and trying new things :)

[vedaelorah]

RE fanart of rosemary i love her sm 🫶🏻

inspired by wanting to see her with ethan’s nose :)

#resident evil #rosemary winters #rose winters #re8 #re8 village #re8 fanart #resident evil village #re village #rosemary winters fanart #haven’t drawn in awhile and trying new things :) #this flopped on twt i hope it doesn’t here 🤪 #thinking maybe rebecca next? 🤔 who do u suggest #also i may color this later but i was digging the black and white so

[merrybloomwrites]

I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 4)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: After battling the symptoms of touch deprivation for weeks, Y/N sees Harry again in Chicago and he helps her deal with the worst of it.

Previous Chapters: Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3

Word Count: 4.9k

Y/N POV

“You haven’t had a nightmare in 4 days?” Rachel asks.

“Nope!” You reply happily, taking a sip of your iced caramel latte. You and Rachel both have a free afternoon and decided to meet at a local cafe. You feel so much better than you had for the last few weeks that you felt confident to order a different drink. No tea that reminds you of Sarah, no hot chocolate that makes you think of Harry.

“And you’re not using those coping mechanisms you mentioned?”

“Haven’t needed them in days.”

“And you’re still not going to tell me what they were?” You blush at this question, embarrassed by the truth.

“No, that secret may come with me to the grave,” you joke.

Rachel looks at you, slightly worried and says, “It was safe right? You weren’t like, drugging yourself to sleep were you?”

“Oh God no!” You reply with a laugh. “Nothing like that, I swear.” Though you think to yourself that Harry’s scent in its direct form would probably be so delicious that it would act like a drug to you.

“Okay, I trust you,” Rachel says. “So, have you heard from Harry?”

You sigh, slightly disappointed by the answer you have to give. “Not since the night of the concert. I’m sure he’s been busy.”

“Maybe you should text him first.”

“And maybe you are out of your mind. No way. And before you say anything, it has nothing to do with the fact that I'm the girl or he’s the alpha or any of that sexist bullshit. It has everything to do with the fact that he’s Harry Styles.” You whisper the last part, aware that you’re in public and anyone around could hear the conversation.

“So what if he’s Harry Styles?”

“What would I even text him?”

“You could start with ‘Hi, how are you?’”

“Very funny. I mean, I guess I could. Maybe. I’ll give it a couple more days.”

“Waiting for him to leave the area?”

“Something like that,” you reply.

“Speaking of procrastinating things,” Rachel says teasingly, “have you called your doctor yet? To find out why that alpha knew you’re an omega even though you’re on suppressants and scent blockers?”

“Okay, that I did not procrastinate on. I called her but I can’t get an appointment until November.”

“Seriously?”

“Yea. I mean there aren’t a lot of doctors who specialize in omegas, so they’re always booked. Anyway, she said that my body has probably just developed a resistance to the pills. She’ll try to change my regimen after the appointment and told me to use the spray on neutralizers until then.”

“That sucks.”

“It does. I am so not looking forward to changing meds. It takes awhile to find the right combo and then there’ll be all new side effects. But it’ll be worth it.”

“I wish omegas didn’t have to hide who they are.”

“Me too. But that’s just how it is now.”

From there the conversation turns to lighter topics until you part ways to continue your day.

Another week passes and you still haven’t heard from Harry. On top of that the bad dreams come back, along with the restlessness, and chills. You’ve started using the old coping mechanisms again, which barely work this time around.

The morning after his final show in New York City, your social media is flooded with videos of him receiving his banner at Madison Square Garden. If there was any time to reach out to him, now was it. He said he wanted to be friends, right? A friend would absolutely congratulate him on this achievement.

It still takes you forever to type out the message, and ever longer to find the courage to press send. It’s nearly noon by the time you text Harry, “Congrats on the banner!”

It’s a simple sentence, just four words, and you still find a way to overthink everything for the two hours it takes Harry to reply. You’re taking a walk, grateful once again that you work on your own schedule and can take a break when you need one. And right now, you need one. Because you texted a celebrity and he still hasn’t answered and you for sure made a complete fool of yourself.

You stop dead in your tracks when your phone buzzes and Harry’s name appears on your screen.

From Harry Styles: Thank you! Can’t believe I got such an honor. How are you? What are you up to?

There’s a bench nearby and you sit to reread his message five times before replying.

To Harry Styles: You deserve it! I’m good, just out for a walk. How about you?

The next message comes in much faster.

From Harry Styles: I’ve been doing well. Took it easy this morning, currently enroute to Texas for the next shows.

You can’t help but feel disappointed that he’s no longer just a city away. You know it’s silly, but it was nice that he was so close by.

To Harry Styles: Enjoy Texas!

From Harry Styles: Thank you! Have you ever been?

To Harry Styles: Once, in college. Went to San Antonio with some friends.

From Harry Styles: That’s a great city, love the river walk there!

And so, you and Harry Styes became friends who text each other about random things. You talk throughout his flight to Texas, and sporadically over the next couple of weeks. It never gets very deep, all surface level conversations, but it’s nice. You feel like you’re getting to know the real him, and he’s getting to know who you are as well.

The texts from Harry are the high points. The low points are, unfortunately, very low. The hot chocolate, and roses, and forest smelling candles are no longer helping you. Bad dreams happen almost every night, you’re constantly cold, and there’s an itch under your skin that just won’t go away. The voice in the back of your brain is telling you it’s touch deprivation, but you refuse to admit that to yourself. You’ve never needed an alpha, and you refuse to depend on one now. So no, you do NOT have touch deprivation.

You’re checking your email, and you see that there are still spots open for a job training opportunity in Chicago. You rarely go to these, but it’s been a while, and you think maybe it would be good to go. There are always new types of data software, and you found the last two training courses you attended to be pretty informative.

Looking at the dates you notice the course is the following Thursday and Friday. In Chicago. You also notice that Harry will be doing shows there at the same time. You don’t admit that’s what seals the deal for you, but it totally is.

After registering and setting up your flight and hotel reservation you send a text to Harry. You casually mention that you’ll be in Chicago the following weekend. You’re surprised when your phone starts to ring, and Harry’s name is on the screen.

You answer the phone and he’s first to speak, saying, “You’re gonna be in Chicago?”

“I am!” you reply, matching his excitement.

“Can you come to my shows?”

“Which days are they again?” You ask this to try and seem like less of a stalker.

“I’ve got one Thursday, Friday and Saturday. You’re welcome to come to as many of those as you want,” he answers.

“I think Thursday is an all-day thing, so I won’t be able to come to that one. The training ends with dinner on Friday evening so I think I could make it just in time for the concert.”

“Ok great, and Saturday?”

“I am free all-day Saturday. My flight back home is Sunday afternoon.”

“Wonderful. I’ll have tickets for you for those two shows. That is, if you want to come of course.”

“Harry, I absolutely want to come.”

“Then the tickets are yours. All the details will come from Jada. I’d be a mess without that girl.”

“You paying her well?” you ask jokingly.

“She’s compensated handsomely, I promise,” he replies with a laugh.

“Happy to hear it.”

“I uhm- it sounds like you won’t be able to come before the show Friday, correct?”

“Unfortunately, no. I’ll probably get there right before you go on.”

“Forgive me if this sounds forward, but would you want to hang out after? It would have to be at the hotel, I can’t really be out in the city after a concert.”

“Totally understand that. And yea, I’d love to hang out after.”

“Great! I’m staying at the Nobu Hotel.”

You quickly look it up and see that your hotel is close by.

“No way!” you reply. “I’m at the Crowne Plaza like, two blocks away.”

“Well, that’s convenient. I’ll make sure there’s a car to take you to Nobu after the show Friday if that works for you?”

“Yea that would be great. I’d love to hang out!” You cringe, hoping that didn’t come off too strong.

“I’d love to hang out as well. Listen I have to go to sound check for tonight’s show. I’ll text you soon. And look out for the email from Jada, it’ll have all the info you need.”

***

Harry POV

“You’re extra happy today,” Elin says as Harry bounces around the venue smiling so big that both dimples are showing.

“I am!” He replies. “Thanks for noticing!”

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Sarah asks. “Because it’s definitely not how this sound check is going.” She has a point there. No less than a dozen things have gone wrong since they started, leading them to take a break while the sound techs work out a few problems.

“Just talked to a friend who will be in town next week.”

“Oh I see,” Mitch says. “So Y/N will be here?”

“Yes, and she’ll be coming to the shows Friday and Saturday. I can’t wait to see her!”

“Aw, someone’s got a crush,” Pauli says.

Harry ignores the teasing from his band members and says, “Honestly I’ve been a bit worried about her. I’ve just had this feeling that keeps getting worse.”

“Why do you think it has to do with Y/N?” NyOh asks.

“I mean, I don’t know for sure. But we’ve talked on the phone a couple times, and she always sounds exhausted.”

“I’m sure she’s alright,” Sarah says reassuringly.

“I know, I just can’t help it.”

“I completely get that,” Sarah replies softly, looking towards her mate.

“Fixed it!” One of the sound techs calls out, effectively cutting off the conversation as Harry and the band get back to work.

***

Y/N POV

The next week passes in what feels like slow motion. Every hour drags on. Your apartment building hasn’t switched from air conditioning to heat yet, so you’re constantly wearing layers of warm clothes and burrowing under blankets. The itch under your skin only gets worse, spreading to new areas each day until there’s a maddening tingle throughout your whole body.

Amelia drops you off at the airport Wednesday afternoon. You know she can tell that something is wrong, but you don’t offer an explanation, so she doesn’t pry for details.

You put on your mask before walking into the terminal. It’s a habit leftover from the pandemic, and also a great way to block out the potential strange scents. Alphas and omegas might be rare, but there’s always a chance a few will be around in such a crowded place. You’re extra sensitive to smells at the moment due to the touch deprivation that you’ve finally admitted you have. But it’s mild. Totally manageable. Not a problem.

The plane ride and subsequent train trip and walk to the hotel is exhausting. You stop and grab some food on the way. After checking in you immediately eat your quick meal, take a hot shower, and crawl into bed.

You’re almost asleep when your phone digs with an incoming text. You’ve already texted your family and friends letting them know you’re at the hotel, so you’re annoyed that someone is interrupting your sleep.

That is, until you see who the message is from. Harry’s name pops up with a text asking if you made it safely to Chicago. You practically melt at how sweet it is that he’s checking in on you. You send a quick reply before immediately falling asleep.

The first day of the training session is typical- informative, but boring. Harry’s show is still going when you get back to the hotel, so you watch on a livestream. You’re still exhausted and fall asleep before it’s over.

Waking up the next morning is difficult. Your body feels heavy, like your bones are filled with lead. The chills seem worse than ever and you’re grateful you packed yourself a heavy sweater to wear that day. Not only is it warm, but it covers up the marks from where you’ve been scratching at the skin on your arms due to the incessant itching.

You have trouble concentrating on the training throughout the day. There was one alpha there, and he was somehow in every single session you attended. He didn’t have a bad scent per se, but his presence alone became overwhelming.

By the time the sessions are over, you feel exhausted. You debate skipping dinner altogether but know you at least need some food before you can start your walk to the United Center. The alpha, whose name you’ve learned is Andy, sits next to you at dinner. He seems nice enough, you don’t feel threatened by him, but you still want to finish dinner and get away from him as quickly as possible.

Once dessert is over you grab your bag, ready to escape. Andy stops you before you go, asking for your number. Without thinking you quickly say, “I have a boyfriend,” and hastily leave the restaurant.

You’re not far from the venue, only a few blocks away, and you’re so out of it that you barely notice where your legs are taking you. It only takes fifteen minutes to get there, but you’re on edge the whole time. Glancing at your watch you see that it’s just before 8PM, meaning Harry should still be backstage.

You’re tired, and dizzy, and a little fuzzy, but knowing you’re so close to seeing Harry again has you moving faster than you thought possible. You’ve even built up a slight sweat, and you feel warm for the first time in weeks causing you to roll up the sleeves of your sweater.

As you approach the building you hear your name being called. You turn to see Jada running up to you.

 “I didn’t think you’d be here so early! Glad I was talking to one of the security guards, you walked right past the entrance,” she says.

You smile as she hands you your VIP badge and leads you inside.

“Harry has a few minutes before he needs to finish getting ready. He’ll be glad you made it before he goes on, I know he’s been dying to see you,” Jada says, causing you to blush.

“Well, I can’t wait to see him either,” you reply.

She knocks on a door which opens a second later. The first person you see is Mitch, who gives you a hug as he says, “Hey kid, good to see you again.”

“You too!” you answer, somewhat surprised by the warm greeting.

Sarah’s there too, pulling you in to a hug next. The moment her arms wrap around your shoulders, you’re overcome with a wave of dizziness. Black spots flash in your vision and you blink rapidly to try and clear them.

“You okay, love?” she asks as she lets go and takes a step back.

After a couple deep breaths you answer, “I’m good. Practically ran here from dinner, still catching my breath I guess.”

Harry, who’s been quietly watching you quickly walks to the fridge and grabs a water bottle. You reach out your hand so he can pass it to you, and see his eyes focus on your arm. There’s no way he missed the angry red scratch marks there, but you immediately pull your sleeves back down to hide them anyway.

“Can we have a moment?” Harry asks, causing Mitch, Sarah, and Jada to promptly exit and close the door behind them. He motions to the couch, and you’re reminded of the last time the two of you were in his dressing room together.

Like the last time, you sit next to each other, but he seems to be giving you more space. This confuses you. If he’s so excited to see you, why didn’t he greet you with a hug like everyone else? And why is he so far away now? And why does he seem so serious instead of happy?

“Y/N, I have a question, and it’s kind of personal, but I’d like you to answer honestly,” he starts.

“Okay,” you reply, taken aback by this turn of events.

He’s quiet for a moment, seeming to think of exactly what he wants to ask. Finally, he settles on, “Where did those scratches come from?”

“My arms were itchy,” you reply. Not a lie, though probably not the full truth he’s looking for.

“And the dizziness? Cause I don’t think it was from your walk. You seemed fine until Sarah touched you. Until an alpha touched you.”

You know what he’s getting at. He’s no dummy. Just minutes after seeing you he’s figured out what you’ve been hiding for weeks. Hiding from everyone, including yourself.

He watches you, and you know he’s waiting for an answer. But you can’t think of one to give him. So, he continues, “Y/N, I think you have touch deprivation. Is that fair to say?”

You let out a shuddery breath and nod. “Yea, that’s fair to say.”

“It seems pretty severe.”

You finally decide to open up, saying, “It’s been getting worse the past couple weeks. I don’t think my meds are working anymore, and the soonest doctors appointment I could get still isn’t for a couple weeks.”

“I’m worried you’re close to a drop. Like, any minute now. Or that you’ll go under if I touch you. You realize that you were close with Sarah, right? That if you’d stayed in contact with her, or if she’d released any pheromones you’d be in a full drop right now?”

Part of you wants to snark back, yell at him for going full alpha male and acting like he knows your body better than you. But the problem is, he’s right. It’s been so long since the last time you dropped that you forgot what it’s like. You forgot what the signs are.

But now that he’s pointed out the obvious, you really start to feel it. He sees as you deflate, starting to fold in on yourself. His hand reaches out, wanting to comfort you in some way, but he can’t. He can’t risk sending you into a drop, not when he has a show to do in just twenty minutes.

“You’re right,” you finally say. “I didn’t realize it. I thought I was handling it, that I could make it to my doctor’s visit and get new soothers and I’d be okay. I just don’t know what to do if I don’t have meds that work.”

“I’d like to help you, if you’ll let me.”

You finally meet his eyes and see that he’s completely serious.

After a moment you nod and reply, “Okay.”

“Okay? You’ll let me help?”

“Yes. I don’t know what else to do. And uhm, I trust you. You’re a good person, Harry. A good alpha.”

He smiles at your words before glancing at the clock and saying, “I have to finish getting ready in a minute. I’d still like to hang out after the concert. I think it might be healthy for you to do a drop with me there, if you’re comfortable with that?”

“I mean, I don’t like dropping. It’s only happened to me twice before and I was alone each time, so they weren’t good experiences. But maybe it will be different if you’re there?”

“I can help you through it, if you’ll let me.”

“What would you do to help? Like, how do alphas help omegas through that?”

“It depends on what you consent to but ah, I would hold you, help you get the touch your omega needs. Most alphas will scent the omega. It lets them know that they’re not alone, that someone is there protecting them, keeping them safe while they can’t do so themselves. I’d also release calming pheromones to keep your omega relaxed.”

“Okay. I’m okay with all of that. I’d like that,” you answer. Truthfully you’re a bit nervous. Harry Styles has just offered to hold you, to scent you for goodness sakes. That’s incredibly intimate. But you’ve felt so awful for weeks, and there are still weeks to go before you can get new soothers. And this is kind of a dream come true.

“Do you want to stay here for the concert? You can hang in here or go to the VIP box. Or you can head to the hotel now and take it easy if you’d like,” he says.

“I’ll stay in here if that’s alright,” you reply.

“It’s more than alright,” he answers. “And if at any point you want to get out of here just text Jada. She can arrange a ride back to my hotel and I’ll meet you there after the show. Or if you change your mind she can get you a ride back to your hotel too.”

“Thank you, Harry. For everything.”

“Of course. I know I don’t know you all that well, but I care about you. Anyway, I uhm, need to get dressed so I’m just gonna step into the bathroom for a moment.”

“I can go in the hall for a minute, get out of your way-”

“Nonsense. You’re not in the way. I’ll be right back.”

Harry finishes getting ready, and you make yourself comfortable on the couch. A couple of people come in, touching up his hair and make-up and before you know it he’s heading to the stage.

You watch on the screen in the room for the first few songs. After a while Jada joins you and you ask if you can watch from the VIP section for a bit. It goes well until Harry and the band take a break. You’d been so focused on the music that you were distracted from everything else around you.

But now all you can hear are all the other people, and it’s overwhelming. It becomes difficult to breathe, and you start to see dark spots once again.

You turn to Jada, and she immediately leads you back to the dressing room.

“Do you want to wait for Harry, or do you want to leave now?” she asks.

“I think I should go,” you reply.

“To your hotel, or his?”

“Harry’s, please.”

“Okay, wait here, I’ll get the car and come back for you in a minute.”

You sit back on the couch, seeking out Harry’s scent to calm you, but it’s barely noticeable.

Jada comes back and you follow her to the car. It’s a quiet ride to the hotel, and once there, she goes with you to the suite.

His room is on the top floor. It’s big, basically a full apartment, and you stay in what seems to be the living room. Jada sits on the couch with you, and you say, “I feel like you have more important things to do than babysit me.”

She laughs and says, “It’s not babysitting. I like hanging out with you. And you’re a priority to Harry. Which makes you a priority to me.”

The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence for a while until Jada’s phone buzzes. “Shows over,” she says. “Harry’s just getting changed and then he’ll be here soon. He said you can borrow some of his clothes if you want to get comfy.”

You hesitate and she adds, “I have no problem going through his stuff. I can grab you some clothes if you want.” You laugh at that and nod.

A short while later you’ve changed into a pair of Harry’s sweatpants, as well as a t-shirt and hoodie. They smell like him, and you shamelessly inhale the scent you’ve been craving for weeks. The suite door opens, and Harry walks in, looking incredibly cozy in his own pair of sweats.

“Thank you, Jada,” he says. “Get some rest, you’ve earned it.”

“Night guys,” she says as she leaves the room.

You’re left alone with Harry. It feels different, here in his hotel room, surrounded by his belongings, while you’re wearing his clothes.

“You left early,” he says.

“Sorry,” you reply.

“Don’t be. I’m just worried as to why you left.”

“I was just overwhelmed. Needed some quiet.”

“I understand. Y/N, are you ready for this? You still seem on the edge of a drop.”

“I’m ready.”

“And have you changed your mind about anything? Or is it okay if I hold and scent you through this?”

You pause for a moment, scared at how vulnerable you’re about to be. “I haven’t changed my mind. I want you to do that. I trust you.”

He takes a step towards you. “Thank you, for trusting me. We’ll probably be more comfortable in the bed.”

“Lead the way,” you say.

It’s awkward at first, the two of you sitting next to each other in his bed, backs resting against the headboard.

He turns to you and says, “Can I hold you now?”

You nod, and his arms wrap around you, pulling you until you’re tucked under his chin and resting against his chest.

Everything starts to get fuzzy, and you feel yourself losing consciousness. It’s an unsettling feeling, but you know that Harry is there to help you through this.

The last thing you hear before it all goes black is Harry calmly saying, “I’ve got you. Let go. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Harry can’t describe the helplessness he feels as you go limp in his arms. He doesn’t allow himself to stress, or panic, knowing that his emotions will impact you. Instead, he takes some calming breaths and thinks through everything he knows he needs to do in this situation.

He hears you whimper quietly as you start to shiver, and he doesn’t hesitate to soothe you. It takes some maneuvering, but soon you’re both laying down in the bed. He tucks his nose into your neck and begins to scent you, releasing calming pheromones until you relax.

It continues this way for the next couple of hours. Harry holds you, and scents you, his nose rubbing against the gland in your neck. During one moment when you seem particularly distressed he can’t help but place kisses there to soothe you faster.

Finally, you start to stir. It takes longer than Harry had anticipated, so he’s relieved when your eyes meet his after hours of being closed.

“Hey there,” he says with a soft smile.

“Hi,” you answer groggily. “How long?”

“Couple hours. Your inner omega needed the rest. Now you need some too. Go to sleep, I’ve got you.”

It’s the same words he said before you dropped. You wish you could hear that all the time. No one has cared for you before, not like this. It feels good, but you remind yourself not to get used to it. Still, you curl into his embrace, enjoying every moment of contact with Harry that you can get.

The next thing you know, it’s late morning. You’re still cuddling against Harry, and his deep breaths indicate he’s still sleeping.

You feel amazing. You’re nice and warm, your mind is clear, and the constant itch and restlessness are nonexistent. You’re extremely grateful, but at the same time, you’re annoyed that you need to depend on another person just to feel normal. But you don’t dwell on that. Because Harry is starting to stir next to you.

“Hey,” he says when your eyes meet his. “How do you feel? Sleep okay?” God, you could melt at the gravelly sound of his morning voice.

“I’m good. Feel better than I have in a long time. And according to that clock, I slept wonderfully.” The two of you laugh, seeing that it’s nearly noon.  

“I was hoping to treat you to a nice breakfast, but I guess I missed the window on that,” Harry says, continuing to laugh with you. “I do still have plenty of time before I need to be at the arena. Would you like to spend the afternoon with me exploring Chicago?”

“I’d love to,” you reply. His face breaks out in a huge smile before he leans down, once again running his nose along your scent gland. You go limp at the feeling, happily submitting to him.

You don’t think about the fact that this is temporary. That you leave to fly home tomorrow afternoon. That you’ll be without his alpha scent once again.

Instead, you think about the hours you have ahead of you, hours to spend with Harry. Nothing could be more perfect.  

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AN: Thank you so much for reading! This was one of the scenes I imagined when I first thought of the story and I'm so happy that it's finally shared with you all!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz @fictionalmensblog @buckybarnessimpp

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #wolfrry

[despairots]

#𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐑𝐀 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐌: YUTA OKKOTSU.

「 yuta okkotsu x male! reader 」

GENRE: fluff, just fluff :3 oh, and like a REALLY quick makeout but its really just fluff, i think a bit of angst tho?

CONTENT WARNING: swearing, violence, r! helps yuta with his injuries, i have no idea what the plot is anymore, r! is like kyouka from bsd and has her ability “demon snow”, rika doesnt like r! that much :,(, “demon snow” is somewhat like rika, so rika - yuta and “demon snow” - r!

AUTHORS: stop. changing. themes. *holds me by the throat and shakes me* no but seriously the more i change it the more i have to change my layout which i do NOT want anyways happy furina day!!! we luv u queen

there’s something that makes people believe you just lack emotions. maybe it’s the you didn’t react to people’s insult, or maybe it’s the way it looks like you’re always in a daze. yeah, you don’t exactly have anything going on in your head and yes, you’re always in a daze but somewhat, you’ve always gave off this rebellious energy, like something was attached to you that’s radiating this energy off.

so when yuta saw a curse behind you while assisting him, he wondered if that was the thing that was radiating off the rebellious energy from your “jellyfish aura” that his other friends would call it. just knowing you hid something below the facade you upheld was admirable, you always had this look that made people think your mind was somewhere else when you are aware.

and the way your voice shouted commands for your curse while you still held that alluring look before you switched your attention to him and helped him up when the enemy was being distracted by your curse, all he could do was stare when you asked if he was injured.

he knew rika didn’t like you holding him so carefully and— oh? you’re so close — making sure he didn’t fall to the ground while the both of you ran from the area. now, he’s watching you patch up his wounds so delicate that he’s convinced you’re afraid that you might hurt him.

yuta doesn’t know if he should speak, ask if you’re okay when he’s the one clearly injured, ask about the ring that’s on a necklace and dangling around your neck. he wonders if you were almost like him, that explains why he was so drawn to you. maki, inumaki and panda (plus gojo) already picked up that you caused him to be rather flustered.

the first time you two met was when yuta was first introduced to you. you had officially came back from your trip and his friends had wanted to throw you a party since they haven’t seen you in awhile. his friends often described you to be somewhat like a jellyfish, he was a tad bit confused by the wording but he understood when you walked into the classroom.

“welcome back, [name]!”

“kelp.”

you just had this look in your eyes when panda scooped you up and hugged you, the way one of your eyes closed when panda smushed your cheeks together and the small— and very unnoticeable — smile on your face when you realized you were missed made him blush.

“this is yuta, he’s new, so try not to overwhelm him. he’s delicate.” maybe when maki had said that, you started to treat him like some doll. always making sure your touches weren’t harming his already injured skin— and he could technically feel rika fuming — with the focused look on your face.

the one thing bugging him was the ring. were you already married or did you dedicate your life to someone else? although, he sounded awfully like a hypocrite right now. he was wearing the ring rika had given him.

“… what’re you thinking about?”

that was the first time he had heard you spoken in such a quiet, yet calm and alluring, tone towards him specifically. he was once told that you didn’t talk a lot and always kept to yourself, only allowing yourself to talk when on the battlefield.

he was shocked nonetheless, the tone of your face had caused him to jump a little and his cheeks to flare up. what should he say in this? should he tell the truth and ask if you were married? but you probably already figured that out by how hard he was staring at the ring.

“oh. um… are you married?” yuta asked timidly, averting his gaze to the ground, hearing the chair scrap and he’s wondering if the question was too insensitive. you only got up to dim the lights as a headache was starting to form before you sat back down infront of yuta.

you grabbed ahold of his cheek and turned to face it towards you, “are you?” you had shot the question back to him and let go of his cheeks, feeling his cheeks heat upon the hand on his cheek. yuta knew you were gesturing to the ring on his finger and he didn’t know how to respond.

he was married but at the same time he wasn’t, he’d seem unfaithful to rika but everytime you touched him, protected him, and now, talking to him, he blushed. and you had picked that up rather quickly.

you hummed, hands wrapping around the ring and looking down at your lap, “i was. he died though.” the way you said it so casually had caught him off guard, but your situation was similar to him aswell. yuta picked up the way your hand tightened around the ring as he stared down at his, fiddling it around his ring finger.

“the cursed spirit that’s always around you. what’s her name?” he looked back at you, blinking and suddenly, you just looked… too unrealistic? was that the right weird to describe you? “her name’s rika.” and you smiled. his heart started to pound against his rib cage when you held a soft smile, “you’d love her no matter what form, huh?”

he wondered if you were rika if she was a male and your sentence made sense to him. now, he wondered about your cursed spirit, “what about yours?” “yuta.” hearing his name come out your lips had him confused, were you trying to tell him that you didn’t wanna speak about it or—

“oh. oh!”

the cursed spirit was named yuta. you weren’t trying to call out his name, you were trying to tell him that the cursed spirt’s name was his name. you lightly smiled amusingly at his reactions, “i don’t think rika likes me very much… nor do i think yuta likes you.” it seemed that way. yuta could feel rika wanted to kill you and you could feel “yuta” glaring daggers at the boy infront of you.

turns out you two were the same.

you stood up from your chair before bending down to yuta’s height and placing a kiss on the corner of his lips. were you trying to die? did you want yuta to die?! no. honestly enough. like yuta, you would’ve loved your cursed spirit no matter the form aswell.

“i like you, yuta.” it was a simple confession yet yuta’s face blew up into red, hearing you walk away. “ah! w-wait!” he had grabbed your wrist and turned you around, wrapping his arms around you and buried his face into the crook of your neck before muttering words that made the tension from your shoulders to relax.

“i… i like you too, [name].” he pulled away and softly placed his lips onto yours. your hands reaching up to cradle his cheeks as yuta backed you up to a desk and helped you sit on top of it before going back to kissing you.

he was a good kisser considering the fact he has never kissed anyone before… well, technically, not a human being.

you pulled away, a string of saliva connecting the both of your lips until it disconnected when your hand was brought up to your mouth and oh, was that blush he saw? were blushing because of him? so cute.

“i don’t think they liked that very much..”

oh right!

#☆. kaz､chatting! #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuta okkotsu #yuta x reader #yuta okkotsu x male reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu yuta #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #rika

[tenebriskukris]

Oshi No Ko Chapter 143 – My Thoughts/Analysis

I knew we were going to be in for a real treat when the previous chapter ended the way it did, and boy howdy did this chapter not disappoint. Spoilers for Oshi No Ko Ch143 below.

The chapter starts off immediately where the last one ends. I said in my previous analysis that we might cut away from Aqua’s reaction where it stands but to see them commit to showing the entire scene like this is a really good sign. Considering how things are framed in the manga, giving this interaction continuous spotlight without cuts is really going to hammer in the importance of this chapter even further.

“I can’t help it. If I don’t hold you tight, I feel like you’ll suddenly disappear, sensei.” Rubyyyyyyyy. You really have to feel for her in this scene. After finding out Goro died when he was the reason she wanted to become an idol in the first place and now that he’s here in front of her you can’t blame her for being so clingy to him. 

Ruby asking him to call her Sarina-chan is as precious as always. Aqua trying to brush it off is also quite in-character for him. The man can be insensitive toward other people’s feelings sometimes—mostly because of his own Issues—but his heart’s in the right place. Not to mention his own trauma pushing him in the direction where he thinks he doesn’t deserve anything good happening to him. Trauma can be a bitch like that.

Ah, I’m sure the mental age comment is going to have people riled up again. It might be relatively accurate for Aqua—though not fully, as we’ve already seen the lines between Aqua and Goro blur by his own admission—but Ruby didn’t get the chance to grow this old in her previous life. This is all new to her, whereas for Aqua he’d already had the chance to be this age in the past.

…Aqua owns a pair of glasses? I recall he had a pair in the first few chapters of the manga where he wanted to deceive that one girl but it’s the first time that’s been brought up in awhile. It could be Ichigo’s but we haven’t seen much of him since he reappeared.

“You always listen to my selfish requests no matter what.” I’ve suddenly been attacked by the mental image of Sarina staying up late to watch B-Komachi and Goro telling her to go to sleep and in exchange he’ll record the concert for her to watch later. 

He looks so similar to Goro in this scene with him wearing the glasses. Perhaps it’s the way the panel and his hairstyle is drawn, but I’m already reminded of the first chapter of the series. The callbacks…

What did I just say about the callbacks??? Ruby asks Aqua if he’ll marry her in a joking manner and again Aqua brushes her off like in the first chapter. Holy shit.

And Ruby’s using the 18 years old line here. I was wondering when she was going to bring that up. And seeing her being praised by the person she loves…it’s so sweet. We really needed some levity after how dark and depressing the past few chapters were. Depending on the atmosphere of some media an onslaught of darkness can be fine, but Oshi No Ko isn’t solidly grimdark enough to justify it.

Ruby is really piling on the pressure here. To her, those meetings with Goro in the hospital room were her light. They were one of the only things tying her to life and a better future since even her own parents didn’t give her the relief of human interaction. Is it any wonder that she was so attached to someone who treated her with overwhelming care and affection? Sarina wasn’t even his patient and he took time out of his day to be with her and comfort her through her ordeal. Of course she was going to be attached to him and vice versa. Those days might have been the happiest she had ever been.

And of course Aqua’s trauma rears its ugly head. It’s an integral part of his character that I’ve seen so many people discount since the series has started. His entire character is built upon the guilt that he feels for being the reason(in his mind) about why his mother is dead. Am I talking about Ai or Goro’s unnamed mother? Either works—but the fact that Aqua’s been put into a situation where he feels like he’s the reason why someone he loves is dead isn’t going to do him any favors. Any sort of healing he’d done over the years as Goro had suddenly been ripped apart after Ai’s death. 

Aqua with his singular white star eye… Oh jeez, he’s really letting down his barriers in front of Ruby now, isn’t he. And I also note that he doesn’t have that black star eye in his other eye. In half the chapter alone Ruby has already done more for him than any of his other love interests. I mean seriously—Kana didn’t even seem to notice Aqua’s entire facade, and Akane couldn’t even partially drag him out of it. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that Ruby is the most important person to Aqua if he’s reacting like this to her right now. 

And damn—we get to see Aqua’s thoughts on what he’s been doing and how he feels about all of this. This chapter really echoes back some of the things we’d already seen about Aqua and how he thinks, how he reacts and his thoughts on everything that’s happened. The black star eyes return to him as the memories of all the things he’s done come back to him…with the revenge plot looming in the background of this entire interaction. 

Ruby’s star eyes returning as she mentions idols is very on-brand for her. Ditto with this entire infodumping setup about idols. Very cute.

“Sensei, you’re my idol.” Aqua is the real Oshi No Ko confirmed. This is only half a joke as I do think that both Ruby and Aqua are what the title of Oshi No Ko is referring to. So I wonder if in the future Aqua will say that Ruby is his idol as a callback to this scene. There’s also the odd brackets in the whole Oshi No Ko title that I know will be relevant due to Word Of God but I’ll table that discussion until it becomes more relevant.

“Thank you for being alive.” It’s quite plausible that this might be the first time he’s heard those words before. Goro’s relationship with his grandparents wasn’t exactly the coziest from what I remember, Ai famously had issues speaking about love and intimacy, and Miyako would always have some sort of distance with the twins even if she was their foster mother. Even Aqua’s other love interests haven't even got that far with him to say those words.

Blind follower, huh. I know that there’s some translation liberties taken with this scene considering the underlying currents behind those English words, but someone made a better explanation of the subtleties that were lost in translation that I’ll link here.

Oh hey it’s a mention of an event that only happened in the Spica novel! That whole thing where Goro ran to get Sarina concert tickets. I was hearing some slop about how people were talking about it being noncanon because of the material in it and because it was written by another author, but with the Oshi No Ko writer’s blessing, so it’s great that we finally have some confirmation on that end. 

“Nothing’s changed. You’re still the first love I adore.” Putting aside the whole “first love” bit which I will get to later, it’s also curious to note that his behavior from when he was Goro vs Aqua hasn’t changed from Ruby’s perspective. As the only person to see both Goro and Aqua—aside from Ai, but she’s dead—she can make such a statement and leave it uncontested. 

This monologue from Ruby about how she’ll accept everything about Aqua wholeheartedly…it really tugs at some heartstrings. Whatever evils, whatever burdens Aqua will endure, Ruby will accept them all alongside him. It’s a stark contrast to Akane wanting to “save” Aqua from himself. And makes it perhaps doubly hilarious that Akane hasn’t done anything plot relevant to actually stop Aqua’s revenge scheme—hell, she’s even now a part of it.

DID SHE REALLY PULL A TITLE DROP THERE???? AND WITH AQUA SHOWING WHITE STAR EYES AS WELL?????

Oh my god we cut back to the movie Ai and Hikaru kissing. I can’t believe it. On one hand I’m mad because we didn’t get the buildup for it on the set itself and context for it there, but on the other I’m just as satisfied because we finally got to see them set their feelings on the table and FUCKING KISS. 

I NEED to know whether or not Aqua has white star eyes after the kiss scene during the movie. His eyes are still closed in the final panel but if they’re still white after it I think that’s game. Both Kana and Akane have had their shot at dragging Aqua back from the abyss and failed but if he still has white star eyes in the next chapter and keeps having them for the long term…then it’s pretty much over.

Thematically, none of the other girls were able to understand Aqua enough to make him shine again. Akane could only understand a fraction of the whole of Aqua, and Kana can only see Aqua’s facade without exerting the effort to understand him deeper.

But I don’t think this is the climax of the entire arc just yet. Things still need to develop for Aqua and Ruby with the movie production further—there are still issues with the script that need to be touched on, Crow Girl’s presence, Hikaru lurking in the background, and Ruby’s former mother still shrouded in darkness. There’s still plenty of things that’ll still need spotlight on—I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re only about a third or so of the arc down, which is already concerning considering it’s already the longest arc we’ve got. But I’m sure I’ll have words to say on that mess and the entire state of the movie arc after it finishes.

#oshi no ko #onk #oshi no ko analysis #onk analysis #my analysis #mine #oshi no ko spoilers #oshi no ko ch143 #i am uber late to the party for this one but better late than never

[susiron]

I’m still rlly bummed out about going to my local park right now.

For years now, mostly during late spring-early fall, I’ve been biking to the park in my neighborhood and drawing with chalk on the concrete of the picnic area. Part of the concrete sticks out away from the picnic tables so it’s a perfect spot to draw-- and it sticks out from under the roof so the rain usually washes it all away in a reasonable time frame.

I never draw or write anything derogatory. I mostly draw dragons, wolves, and other animals-- sometimes Pokemon, sometimes plants. Sometimes if there’s a holiday nearby, like Halloween, then I’ll draw something that fits the theme.

I’ve even drawn little “Happy Pride!” things before during June with gay and trans flags.

But earlier this week I went and drew with my chalk and I decided to include the gay and trans flags next to a doodle of a cat. I cannot stress enough that these were small drawings, and not at all the focus of what I’d drawn. They were just little doodles in the corner, completely eclipsed by a bunch of wolves and dragons and shit.

WELL, two days later I come back to the park, thinking I’ll just draw around what I left their earlier in the week-- only to find that someone had clinically powerwashed away everything I’d drawn.

And like, there was a brief moment where I thought “did it rain? did it rain and I forgot?” but I could see the telltale lines from a powerwasher

But it gets worse.

Cause if they’d powerwashed the entire thing, I could have just assumed that they didn’t like any chalk on the patio (despite this never happening before, over Years of drawing here), but... there were some doodles made by kids Right next to where I had drawn, and they were all left untouched. Faded doodles that had been there awhile, but they were visible enough that anyone who was cleaning this patio just for the purpose of cleaning it would have gotten rid of those two.

But no, they just got rid of my stuff-- all of it. And the only difference between this time and every other time was that my drawings had a gay and trans flag beside them outside of Pride month.

I drew a bunch that day after finding that out-- and I put back a new pride flags. Again, they weren’t the focus, but they’re there. They mean a lot to me and shouldn’t upset anyone, but like-- of course they do.

And I guess I just liked thinking that maybe there was no one in my neighborhood hateful enough to methodically wash away a little trans flag (because I can only assume that, of the two, was the tipping point). And now having proof that someone is is just... depressing.

With everything going on these days-- with all of the fucking hate directed at trans people like an arrow-- it’s just fucking upsetting that you can’t even put the colors down without someone needing to fight back and show just how much they hate you.

I’m a trans artist who has drawn in that park for years, and I’ve had nothing but positive interactions with people while doing so (excluding the First time I did it when I got harassed, but, well, that’s not important right now).

And god it just sucks that the moment you are like “this is important to me” all of that positivity gets tainted.

I haven’t been back there yet to see if the new flags got erased. Idk if they have been, and idk if I want to know if they have been. I also don’t really know if I want to make this an entire Thing, me trying to put it back every time it gets erased.

It’s funny, had they not erased it, I probably wouldn’t have drawn another one until June, but now... 

And now I’m worried that someone might approach me directly when I got there to draw, or maybe they’ll just start erasing everything I put down there as soon as I leave the park.

It just fucking sucks. I just wanna draw with some chalk and share some doodles, not feel like shit-- angry-- over it.

#susi howls #trans things #susi growls

[shchvnts]

hello everyone! i thought of sharing this for awhile regarding the ways to interact with me. this might be long but please don't let this intimidate you, it's just something i wanna share since i've seen those 'engage with your mutuals' posts but i wanna reiterate and bring this up lately since i've got some new mutuals/mutuals that i haven't interacted with yet.

memes and opens are the best way to jump and start interactions. they are always accepting responses. even unprompted asks. 24/7/52/365. always.

i love plotting and i love building dynamics. and if you’re not used to first meetings, i’m open to pre-established relationships between our characters. i get people being busy and real life, and some are too afraid to approach me, but please try to make an effort to engage. i write an OC of color, and it sucks when i don’t receive enough engagement or people not showing interest or interact towards the lore and bio i post. i post starter calls, opens, memes and there are days i don’t receive anything and i get frustrated. it makes me feel like i’ve been overlooked and ignored. and we all don't want that to happen, right? remember, the more you try to engage, the more i'd likely do the same thing to you and engage as well, have you as a writing partner and you could be my treasured mutual.

there are many ways to engage or showing interest with me other than having threads with me. liking my HCs/edits/lore, reblogging my promo, sending me asks about trinity and her lore. it makes me feel better that there are people who actually care about my muse and her world building, which i've worked so hard on. it also helps me know you wanna interact with me at some point.

i don’t have any deadline or due date to start writing with me right away. but if we’ve been mutuals for months and you never make an effort to interact or write with me (honestly, i would try my best to interact with every mutual i follow but it sucks whenever i don’t get reciprocated in return), i have every right to break mutuals. i mostly stick to mutuals who actively engage or interact with me. just a simple, “hey i’m too busy but i want write with you in the future" would make a difference. i just feel like it's unfair of me if i need to set up a deadline, as we all have real lives and obligations to take care of.

importantly, please don’t take this one as an intent of me pressuring you to write with me immediately or making you guys feel guilty. i totally understand how people can’t come up with plot ideas right off the bat or have been overwhelmed with threads or whatever reason. i've been here on this site for long, people come and go, but i'm more drawn to people who try to take action.

at last but not least, please don’t hesitate to communicate with me or let me know why we haven’t rped yet or if you’ve got something that might work between our muses. as long you’re being respectful and polite, we’re totally good. and if you feel like we don't vibe after i post this, feel free to softblock or hardblock. i'd get hurt and upset if anyone do this ofc, but you do whatever you makes you feel comfortable and curate your own dash.

if you manage to reach the end, give a like so i'll know who read this. not required, but it's greatly appreciated.

#( ooc. ) #( tbd. ) #long post tw #i'm keeping it under the cut anyway but i would appreciate it if anyone reads this.

[depressed-sock]

Make me a Home even as I Wander (4345 words) Treat For DanDenbo. Fandom: Mass Effect Trilogy Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Jack | Subject Zero/NB Shepard Clone Characters: Jack | Subject Zero, Shepard Clone (Mass Effect), Kaidan Alenko, Other Characters Briefly Mentioned, Eezo (Jack's Varren) Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, patching someone up and giving them a new life, Pre-Relationship, Developing Relationship, Fight Club - Freeform, Healing, shepard is dead in this, Post-Canon, Eezo is best boy Preview:

Jack stares, breath caught in her throat as her heart pounds a familiar beat of panic. Her eyes are glued to the person before her as she takes them in. Gaze drawn from the cut of their hair, to the shape of their nose, to the scars that peak out from bloodied bandages wrapped around them like it’s the only thing holding them together as they curl in on themself.

They’re in front of her apartment doorway. They haven’t even looked her way yet and something about that is setting off about a dozen different warning bells in her head because her mind keeps trying to tell her that (Shep-) this person is someone who should have a better awareness of their surroundings. They shouldn’t have this dazed look as they stare at the wall in front of them. They shouldn’t even be alive.

Jack tightens her grip on her groceries as she haphazardly digs around her pocket for her apartment keys. Her eyes never straying from the figure in front of her.

In all honesty it could only ever be one person. Well technically two, but considering she was there when they found Shepard (he was broken and dying and there was nothing she could do to fix it). Jack takes a breath in and holds it as she buries the memories in her head of his broken body just like she did when his casket had been lowered into the ground.

Shepard is dead.

And there’s no Illusive Man to try and bring him back again.

(Sometimes she hates the relief she feels about that. He’d been her friend, the person who was too good for this whole fucking Galaxy. Who’d brought some of that good out in her too despite how much she denied it to his face. After everything… After all that fucking bullshit he at least deserved a fucking happy ending. He didn’t get it though. Instead he could only get the second best thing, which is some peace and fucking quiet for the rest of eternity. And fuck she hopes he’s enjoying it.)

So the person in front of her, bleeding all over her door isn’t Shepard. No, it’s the missing piece of a puzzle everyone thought got solved just before the Reapers were defeated.

“Hey.” She says as she finally pulls her keys free, watching as their head turns sharply in her direction. She sees the fear in the way they tense, looking like some of Jack’s kids do when they think an adult might try to get physical with them. She licks her lips, taking note of that and the way a bandage has been wrapped around the left side of their face, covering most of it and their left eye. “You here for a reason?”

They stare a bit, right eye wide in shock before they blink and their face falls into something more neutral. “Someone said you could help me.” They say their words carefully, voice rougher than Shepard’s ever was. Could be an injury, could be they just haven’t had anything to drink in awhile.

“Oh?” She raises an eyebrow. “Anything you want to tell me?”

There’s a couple of phrases she’s given to people. Helps her know who sent a straggler her way and possibly what kind of help they might need. She thinks Shepard would be proud of how she’s been fucking over the whole system that tries to keep track of Biotics. No matter how illegal it is it’s something she knows he would have gotten a kick out of.

They hesitate to answer her, making a face that tells her they really don’t want to say whatever phrase they were given before they sigh and pinch the bridge of their nose. (It’s such a Shepard move that it makes her breath hitch.) “I’m a Biotic God,” they mumble the words, refusing to meet her eyes as she grins at them.

One of her kids sent them then.

“Great, scoot a bit so I can open my door.”

Jack lets them into her home. Making them sit on one of the bar stools she’d stolen about a year ago from a dingy bar down the street. It’s so far one of the few surviving pieces of furniture from when Eezo was growing in a new set of teeth last month.

“Stay put, I got to grab my kit from the bathroom.” She doesn’t bother to look back at them as she sets her groceries on the counter and makes her way further into her apartment. Stepping over Eezo who blocks the hallway, sleeping soundly and tongue hanging out like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

She enters the bathroom, opens up the cannot just below the sink and drags out the heavy medical kit that has never gotten a chance to gather dust from disuse. She can’t even begin to remember how often she’s used this thing. Often enough that Chakwas is constantly stopping by to resupply her. Or maybe that’s just because Chakwas has too much of a soft side and is just checking in on her.

Making sure at least Jack hasn’t run off into the wider Galaxy like some of the others have.

Doesn’t matter really but it’s enough of a thought that Jack forces herself to just stop for a moment. Standing back up to let her hands grip the sink as she breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth.

Fuck.

She has no clue what she’s doing. There’s a familiar face sitting in her home and despite that this person is an absolute stranger.

She breathes in again and holds in long enough to let her lungs burn.

#mass effect trilogy #subject zero jack #Shepard Clone #my writing #fanfiction #spec reqs 2024 #long post

[suga-r-ush]

< WAITING FOR YOUR RETURN >

Request: Ralsei

Fandom, Character: Deltarune; Ralsei

CW: Some Deltarune Spoilers

Requested by: @novaaa-starrr

I haven’t played the game for awhile, so sorry if this isn’t very accurate.

Dividers by cafekitsune

As Kris and Susie stepped into the dark fountain for the second time now, Ralsei could help but wonder when would be the next time he would see them again. Of course, he’d always want his friends to come visit. But as far as the last two times things weren’t exactly “in check” when they made their arrivals.

He could only assume the same would happen again, yet another dark foundation sealing fate on their return to the dark world. Or well, dark worlds. He held his hat to his chest as he waved goodbye, and yet just as suddenly as they arrived they were gone just as soon. It felt so quick. A long, drawn adventure, yet it felt so fast. Ralsei moved his hat back onto his head and wondered what would be the next to happen.

He certainly didn’t want another fountain, but supposedly that may be the only chance to get to see them again. He sure would miss going on adventures with Kris and Susie. But he didn’t want the world to be in danger because of it.

Feeling wind brush by him as his coat moved in the wind, he looked up at the sky into the distant nothing as if waiting for something to happen. Looking into the distance for something to occur, something strong. Powerful. Dangerous.

Something the three heros would need to reunite for.

Of course, as much as he wished, it wouldn’t happen. He didn’t truly want the world to be in danger. But all he could do was wait and see. His voice was true, but his words weren’t very promising. “And Kris please.. come and visit again.” As sweet as they were he probably wouldn’t care. But oh, all he could think about was the adventures he had gone on with the heros.

A human, a monster, and a price of the dark world. Who knew such unlikely fellows would make such good friends. And Ralsei remembered every step of the journey.

Meeting Kris and Susie by the town, trying (and failing) to convince Susie to team up. Defeating Lancer (multiple times) and reading all those signs through the Field of Hopes and Dreams. Stopping by the shop to meet a familiar feeling cat, and some strange puzzle masters that stood outside. Completely puzzle after puzzle, making their way to the king. And after defeat, it was all over. They left. Ralsei was sure he’d never see him again. And yet, there they were.

They went through the cyber world, battled robots of many kinds. Even fought with a salesman. All in all at the end they defeated the Queen, and may many new friends along the way. Well, mainly too. But it still sent shivers down his spine to think about the snow grave..

But, that was all over now. They had left again.

And all he could do was sit waiting.

Waiting for their return.

Waiting for your return.

#sugar writes #requested #Deltarune #ralsei #ralsei deltarune #deltarune ralsei #fanfic

[captainkurosolaire]

~ Update ~

When the heart yearns does it ever burn. It’s most certainly back, after nearly a year dimming out. Last year I put everything I had into punching holes through my limits and barriers.I am without mistaken proud of what I accomplished and the tribute I laid out that I wholeheartedly dealt. But of course. That’s never enough for me. I still feel as I’ve only put scratches of what I’m capable to do-- no, what I want to do. With that being said I’ll be back soon in full might, undoubtedly with another consistent flood-wave of flowing content and ink to canvases, soul sweating every fiber I got to unlock and breathe again. Cause it’s only when I’m truly back to creating, do I breakout and feel oh so alive! It’s a ventilation and my own personal oxygen supply that nulls any health issue, disease and as it’s tried for over a decade now to try redefining my approach to live. It’s been unsuccessful in taking me out for the long haul. I will go further in details of what has transpired in my absence gone below the cut. But a month is my goal date. I’ve already began lining up some content and I definitely have some swelling ideas but I am taking a new charge in this upcoming voyage so I can be with all intent more longevity my fully functional state. Cheers until then hearties.

Awhile ago, I wrote a piece about how doubt can poison us and ground. With that said the manifestation was festering me. Wasn’t certain If I’d ever be able to get drawn or motivated enough to trigger that awakening I held that same energy, drive, heart and determination I unleashed the after-mention year. That’s most likely a scenario occurs a lot after a stellar year in any sort of thing many factors, fear for future events, uncertainty if a prime was hit. Although I can’t deny the creeping shadows of that engulfing can’t be an issue. Things beyond control putting effort in that it’s much more damaging. And I honestly don’t feel that is a web of truth for me. As I stated, know there’s more to grow in me. That haven’t properly been nurtured yet is all. The season hasn’t dried away all the cold, it’s all still fresh. Sometimes changing fighting stances results in better yields, and I think mentally there’s guard changes, stand swaps in those too. I no longer think on what dwells. Instead there’s a starving in my belly and itch that needs a fill and relieve. A viscous passion consumes me and I’m taking it to pampering it up nice and taking it to prom and we’ll see where that night gets me. Envisioned many arcs and sagas so much unfilled but I was always daunted with the notion that it had a standard I needed to commit. Not just for the sake of others but for my own personal, self-improvement. Perfection isn’t my cup. I’ve got my damages, the trauma and a plethora of flaws. They make up me and give me abundance of ideas, to twist and warp something authentic and throw it into fantasy. I have rode out the physical and mental rehabilitation and it’s an exhausting card every time. It’s a grueling tradition at this point. But the only weakness isn’t giving it all out and launching yourself to get an extra step, pushing it to get a sprint out again before anything catastrophic hit. Turned into a very ghostly figure, closed in and put myself in a box, unable to confront or muster any more energy to give to the people that matter or the closest to me and there’s never an easy way to leave things like that, can make others ponder if they did stuff wrong or blame themselves, however isn’t a -them- issue. Isn’t even something personally another did just an old vehicle with some shitty mileage rates, the gas tank leaks, the entire motor is shot and barely worthy of getting to a trusted destination. But when the ignition works, it purrs with a classic thrill. That’s a lot how as a system I operate. I’m a doomed situation to repair, the price runs beyond the budget. But I’m get a destination out more than ever expected and fill that ride with memories and songs to last until I work again. This time, I get my motor running early for a change, spend an entire month, challenge myself to put stuff to paper. Build up the entire thing and stockpile, then whatever I have, I unleash in whatever state of quality when I return. Then while that occurs, I take myself and do the sightseeing, do the things I’ve wanted. Return and be more proactive about attending events, try stirring up some threads, and things I always wanted too. But be uninterrupted by all the deterrence or feeling like I need to puncture something forcefully in. Let things hit me and still go, then start stockpiling in the background and continue the pace, staying a whole ten miles ahead. Try making this joy ride last as long as possible, surpassing all that stuff I did before. Giving myself a month of wiggle room to fuel up. For now got Budokai 3 a showdown with some unique astrology and lore-twisting usages to make a deathmatch out. Just need to polish that up and I’ll have that done. But that water doesn’t end I got some skit ideas, some concepts I never once had in my head for years that came organically that’ll follow the aftermath of the results of that gruesome battle, that’ll be even more in-depth filling, I got that a lot from the last XIV Challenge. Then if I can get to it, I have a major arc with a very ambitious idea. Try getting a whole crew vs crew showdown going into something. There’s a literal ‘giant’ undertaking I want this year and a whole War/Saga point that’ll just endlessly and abundantly unlock so much stuff and I want that initial thing at the very least. I said and set that last year and nothing has changed. If anything I’ve got a chip on my shoulder to get to it fairly. But if anyone out there ever want to chat on here or discord or something about OC or story stuff, or plot ideas, pre-establish stuff, or intrigue in joining Crew and huge arc or anything I’m going to do my best to be even more accommodating. - Try upping my gif and screen-set stuff, cosplay things too when I get myself in the forefront of this. Stay worldly ye treasures.

#OOC #Reinvigorated. #Hungry as ever #This heart isn't stopping #I am. Who I am. #A fortune July 4th to you

[goatjamesaz]

I thought I was following most of your socials but it's been awhile since I've seen you around, SO. OCs. You got em, I want em. Hit us with em?

This will be a long post but might as well show them all

So, besides my fur which is the goat on the pfp the first two OCs I made are Hazel Carrot & Edgar Crow. Tagged as #Hazel the Raccon and #Crow the Crow

They met each other thanks yo Hazel’s sister Rhina. They will never admit or even play with the idea that they are “together”, mainly the result of growing up in a small town, even though everyone mostly knows they’ve been dating since forever. Weird things keep happening around them and they’re mostly user to it

Next Rhina Fischer! Tagged #Rhina the possum

Hazel’s sister, she bought an apartment building from a government auction for essentially nothing. She has been trying to make it into something more than a money pit, but repairs and cleanup are still ongoing. Do not go into the eight floor. I repeat: Do Not go into the eight floor

Elliot Mares tagged #Elliot the ferret

Rhina’s long term relationship. He and everyone around him likes to pretend he’s the voice of reason, and the only thing keeping them from doing something stupid. He is, however, the one that keeps encouraging them to commit to the bit until everything falls apart. He’s also a Nervous wreck.

Simon Fox tagged, unsurprisingly #Simon the Fox

First one to move with Rhina, more or less the only reason why they haven’t all ran out of money and become destitute after finding a USB with bitcoin back in 2014 and keeping it as a joke. Mostly a source of chaos, he keeps finding new ways to get into the do not flight list. Keeps trying to make a Jamon Iberico in the basement of the apartment complex. On the run from the FDA. Became cursed with anomalous sight after he(sort of, kind of) accidentally invoked Dæmian.

Finally Dæmian tagged #Damian the Jackalope . Newest OC that I definitely didn’t make because someone dared me to make a “edgy 2011-core OC”

(Drawn here as Sock from Welcome to hell)

After Simon got a dusty book from the back of a van in exchange for a neat looking quartz, trying to get citations for bullshiting a paper. He realized it was just a bad imitation of a witchcraft book. Mad but not discouraged, decided to throw a halloween party to get some money back, and gift the book at midnight to whoever would complete a ritual from the book and not chicken out. It ended up being real, invoking Dæmian who immediately said “Oh shit, are those Doritos!?“. He possessed Simon to eat all the food and in the process made 4 people have prophetic visions, 2 more potent visual hallucinations, created a time bubble for about an hour, and the pool turned red (later confirmed to be watermelon kool aid)

So, yeah.

I’m currently working on a comic which hopefully will actually show all of this, but I have only six pages sketched out, and I’m getting paid to do someone else’s comic first.

Anyway, hopefully this wasn’t too much!

#lore dump #my ocs #oc story #hazel the raccoon #crow the crow #rhina the possum #elliot the ferret #simon the fox #Damian the Jackalope #questions

[lemonmeringuecry]

The Cubs at Disneyland

Hi, so I've been trying to do this for awhile (ever since I drew Lo in a Mickey Mouse hoodie) but when the queen herself, miss Hazel, said she needs them to go to Disney... well I wrote this. And drew it. Because I'm me.

So anyway, here's the drawing and below is the fic

Tw for a couple mentions of food but I think that's it

Credit for everything @lumosinlove

Leo bounced a bit on the balls of his feet, goofy smile at full force while he waited to board the plane. He had grown up going to Disney World with his family. Living in Louisiana, Florida wasn’t too far away, and Eloise and Wyatt Knut didn’t let being adults stop them from enjoying the magic of Disney. When Leo was born, his parents were beyond excited about the prospect of going as a family, getting mickey ears, collecting pins, and making memories.

The first time he went, Leo was five, his favorite Disney movie was the lion king, and an expression of pure joy was permanent in his pale, blue eyes. Over the four days they were in the parks he got to go on rides, eat themed sweets, and meet his favorite characters.

After that first trip, Eloise started a scrap book. The book, titled ‘Disney World 2006’, was soon filled with pictures of Leo at the entrance gate, Leo with pineapple dole whip halfway to his mouth, and countless of all three of them taken by the photographers.

A favorite picture of Eloise’s was near the back, this one of her son with Simba. When Leo had spotted the cast member dressed as his favorite character, he all but threw himself at the lion costume clad employee. Leo’s mama had taken many pictures of the two lion cubs together and they were beyond adorable.

There are more scrap books from 2008, 2011, 2014, and 2017. Throughout the years of pictures Leo never looks less than ecstatic. Even though New Orleans will forever remain his favorite place in the world, Disney is a close second to home, which is why this trip with his boys is such a big deal for him.

The Lions are currently on a short break in the season after their game against the Coyotes and the cubs are going to spend a few days at Disneyland in Anaheim.

Finn reaches forward to grab Leo’s hand who is standing in line in front of him.

“Sunshine, are you excited?” He asks. Leo tilts his head around to look at his boyfriend and nods eagerly.

“We’ll take that as a yes,” logan chuckles sleepily from behind Finn where he is standing with his head resting on the red head’s back. Evidently waking up at 6:00 in the morning to drive to the airport wasn’t ideal for him.

Leo lets out a low, impatient groan, still bouncing, “I need to be there like right now. Can’t we get on the plane already?”.

“We haven’t even been waiting that long. I think they’re about to call our section though, Peanut,” Finn answers him, trying not to let his amusement show too much.

A crinkly noise cuts off Leo’s response, “Now boarding rows 1-10,” a voice says from over the loudspeaker. Leo stands up straighter and turns to his boyfriends, “that’s us!”

“I know Nutter-Butter, go on, let’s get you to Disney!” Finn says as he pats Leo’s butt lightly, moving him forward, onto the jet bridge.

The boys get settled into their seats, Finn by the window, Logan in the middle for maximum cuddles, and Leo on the aisle for the leg room. For the first half of the flight Logan sleeps while Finn and Leo share a movie, but all three boys are wide awake by the time the flight attendants come around with drinks for the second time. The rest of the flight is spent chatting about practices coming up after the break, things they need for the apartment, and what they are going to do first upon arriving.

Once getting off the plane in California, they take the shuttle from John Wayne Airport to the Disneyland hotels. They are staying in the Adventure Land tower, closest to the park. By this point all three boys are buzzing with the infectious happiness of Disney. After unpacking and getting settled into their hotel room, the cubs proceed with their plans of shopping and getting dinner in Downtown Disney. First thing on the agenda is to procure mouse ears. Logan, Finn, and Leo make their way to World of Disney in order to find the widest selection of ears. Leo has a collection of his own ears at home, including his favorite pride Minnie ears, but for this trip he wants to get new ones along with Logan and Finn. Leo and Finn decide on classic Mickey ear hats, while Logan picks out Minnie ears with a lavender bow. They all get sweatshirts too, as is custom.

After a pleasant evening of enjoying the atmosphere and getting dinner at Ralph Brennan’s Jazz Kitchen (Leo’s offense towards their attempt at Cajun cuisine is only partially a joke), they call it night. They head back to the hotel, brush their teeth, put on pajamas, and cuddle up in bed. After a busy day the three boys quickly fall asleep, full of anticipation for the day ahead.

Something you should know about Leo is that when it comes to Disney, he is hard core. Their first morning there is an early entry in Disneyland park.

“Rise and shine, party people!” Leo calls as he entera the main part of the hotel room from the bathroom. Logan and Finn are just now waking up, but they aren’t remotely tired. The pure excitement radiating off their boyfriend is contagious as well as the promise of a day of fun.

“Butter baby, how long have you been up?” Finn’s question is alarmed yet distinctly amused.

“Since 5:30,” Leo responds off-handedly. Logan and Finn share a look, then turn it on Leo. Undeterred, Leo spins slowly in a circle in order to show off his carefully constructed outfit. He is wearing his favorite light wash Levi’s, paired with the crewneck he bought yesterday (light gray with vintage looking Mickey & friends). Underneath his sweatshirt he is wearing his Pizza Planet t-shirt, ready for when it gets hot later. Leo’s outfit is accessorized with his new Mickey ear hat, white air Jordan 1’s, and his Tinker Bell lanyard filled with pins from over the years.

“These things take time! Now y’all go get dressed, we have to be in line by 6:45,” Leo says. With that both Finn and Logan get out of bed and into their clothes in record time. On their way out of the room, they pick up their ears and backpacks from the desk by the TV.

After a brief stop at the Starbucks in Downtown Disney, the boys make it into the que of people lining up at the entrance gate. Once 7:00 hits, the lines start to move into the park. As Logan, Finn, and Leo enter, they gaze around in awe. At the end of Mainstreet sits Sleeping Beauty’s castle, tall and glorious. They walk hand in hand down the lane of colorful, old fashioned buildings, chatting excitedly about what to do first.

“Alright babes, what’s up on the agenda?” Finn asks.

“I don’t even know the options, what do you say Le?” Logan continues.

They end up heading over to Tomorrow Land first. They go on Star Tours and Space Mountain while the lines are short, then bounce around Fantasy land as they make their way across the park. Around 8:30 all three boys start to get hungry so they grab a bag or two of beignets from New Orleans Square. After breakfast, they hit their favorites in Adventure land (Finn fucking loves Indiana Jones), Frontier Land (Big Thunder Mountain Railroad is a fan favorite), and New Orleans Square (Logan might not stop singing ‘Yo Ho a Pirate’s Life for Me’ for weeks).

Around noon the cubs exit Disneyland Park and walk across to California Adventure. After lunch at Wine Country Trattoria the boys bop around Cars Land, Hollywood Land, Pacific Warf and Grizzly Peak. The lines are a lot longer now that it’s afternoon, so they take it in stride and spend their waiting time talking, cuddling, and playing games. They end up going on almost every ride as well as hitting the extra good ones twice like Incredicoaster and Guardians of the Galaxy (still a fan-fucking-tastic ride but Leo misses the Twilight Zone theme).

By the time they finish up in California Adventure for the day, it’s almost time for Fantasmic, and Leo has yet to tell his boys that he got them reserved seats. The cubs meander back to Disneyland but when they start to near Frontier Land Finn picks up the pace.

“Sweetheart, what’s the hurry?” Leo asks with a knowing smile.

“I wanna get good seats for Fantasmic, I haven’t seen it since I was little!” Finn replies.

“Orgasmic? I like the sound of that,” Logan slides in with a smirk.

“Baby, no!” His boyfriends exclaim at the same time. Logan giggles which gets Leo and Finn laughing as well.

“And Finn, I got us seat reservations for the show so no need to rush,” Leo tells him. Finn’s response is to jump on Leo with a fierce hug and a drawn out “Yay,”.

The cubs enjoy the water show immensely, all snuggled up and bundled in sweatshirts once again to fend off the cool evening air. They point out little details to each other with intertwined hands and gasp aloud at the pretty fireworks. Once Fantasmic is over they do a few more rides, then head back to the hotel, sleepy after a full day. The boys fall asleep quickly again, ready to do it all again the next day.

#my art #writing #lumosinlove #o'knutzy #leo knut #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #disneyland #coast to coast #sweater weather #harry potter fanart #lumosinlove fanart #fanart

[djmarinizelablog]

Idk if you take prompt requests atm, but i was listening to Your Eyes Tell by BTS and oh my god the lyrics remind me of levihan in the saddest way possible:

The darkness we see is so beautiful

I want you to believe me

Looking directly at you so you don’t go away

The protective gaze is so colorful

You taught me

One day this sadness will wind us together

This could end angsty or happy ending, if you decide to do this prompt, tysm and good day.

Heya! Sorry this took awhile, but I'm working on this fic in collab with a wonderful artist. The prompt kinda fits with the story so I'll leave a preview here :)

There’s this saying that goes, no two snowflakes are the same. Every design is intricate, every moment of how it falls from the skies to the ground a story untold. Hange is pondering about this while they’re watching the snowfall on the rooftops of the headquarters, wintery breath faint against the dark. It’s the dead of winter, their long coat barely even keeping them warm.

But Hange likes this. The scenery. The silence. It allows them to recollect and recompose themselves.

“Snow is shitty,” someone says behind them. “It leaves a mess everywhere.”

When Hange turns around, Levi is standing there by the exit, hands tucked in his coat pockets, waiting.

“Ah, I take it you’ve never seen snow before?”

“I’ve seen it before.” Levi walks towards where Hange is and leans towards the balcony, the apparent frown in his face. “Also, I’m not that stupid not to know about it.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

For someone who’s lived in the Underground his entire life, Levi seems fascinating. Almost attractive for Hange, even. He’s not the curious and bewildered type. There’s some sort of charm to that. The thing about people like him, Hange wonders, is that maybe they’re not drawn to the new, having often lived by the mundane.

Down below them, they can see other soldiers playing on the open field, throwing snowballs at each other in the dark, heartwarming laughter filling the air. Here on the balcony, the silence hums between the two of them, their stances stiff and uncomfortable. Levi attempts to remove the grime beneath his fingernails, head hung low.

It’s only been a few days since that disastrous expedition, one that had cost Levi his friends’ lives, and Hange knows he must be mourning.

Pain, they know this all too well, is more hurting the more one tries to bury it in.

So Hange speaks once again. “I once stumbled into a tunnel leading to the Underground, you know? I was gone for days.”

The statement makes Levi stop. His eyes flitter from Hange’s face then to the dark in front of him, as if trying to recollect a memory. Beyond them, the forest is silent save for the hooting of an owl. Then he shrugs.

“Beats me. Lots of people escape into the Underground, so you probably weren’t the first to go missing. Even kids from above ground consider it as a hiding place.”

Hange’s not going to let it go so fast. “I know, but this particular instance… it was an adventure for me, and there were people who helped, especially this kid…”

“What?” He scoffs. “You’ve got to be joking. People down there are jerks.”

He’s right, but not really. Who knows the Underground better than he does, anyway? There’s still something wrong, though, so Hange shakes their head. “It’s a vague childhood memory. It’s been a long time ago, and I can’t even remember certain details, let alone faces or names.

Levi pushes himself against the railing and turns around to head back to the door. “You’re wasting my time.”

Hange pretends to be offended. “Am I?”

He lets his hand rest on the doorknob. Like he’s still thinking. Like there’s more he wants to say, but chooses not to. “Tell me that story when you remember it.”

“I’ll try.” Hange is being generous. Right now, they haven’t reached that part where the two of them could call each other friends. Just comrades. Colleagues. Fellow soldiers. “No promises, though.”

Another scoff escapes Levi’s lips. “Promises are meaningless, anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

But before they can get an answer, Levi's already gone.

The silence stirs in the cold. And Hange’s all alone once again, snowflakes drifting from the skies. There’s a smile that plays on their lips, an attempt to remember.

Perhaps later when they bump into each other again, here on this rooftop under a snow-blanketed night where there’s isn’t much to do, maybe they’ll be ready to talk. Perhaps.

#levihan #aot #snk #attack on titan #hanji zoe #levi ackerman #shingeki no kyojin #captain levi #levi attack on titan #hange zoe #fanfic #fanfiction

[pedrosbish]

from me, the moon

word count: 1.7k

warnings: angst

*female reader x marcus*

He loved you with all his heart. And it terrified you.

You were both nineteen, in the prime of your youth, having only been dating for a year and a bit (one year, two months and eight days he had corrected you once) when you had come home to your modest, tiny apartment. The lights were turned off and for a split second you were worried that something had happened, something felt off. 

Wandering further in, you noticed a flickering light coming from the bedroom and as you slowly pushed the door open, you were met with the sight of Marcus Moreno cursing as he attempted to light another candle, burning his finger when it wouldn't catch aflame. 

“Baby?” You almost laughed out loud when he had whipped around, a loud gasp escaping his mouth, dropping the match to the ground. Pointing to the neatly made bed (which hadn't been done in awhile), roses adorning the white duvet and the multiple lit candles around the room, casting a calming light to fill the room. “What’s all this?”

“Mi amor.” He takes a step forward, holding something behind his back. “You weren't supposed to be back for another hour. Is everything okay?”

“Of course. I just managed to get away earlier today- not many customers.” Waving your hand around the room again, you glance your eyes around before looking at Marcus. “What’s the occasion?” 

Gently taking ahold of your hand, he leads you to the bed where you sit, expecting him to take a seat beside you but instead he gets down on one knee, revealing what he had hiding behind his back. A ring. It was a simple thing, a golden band with a tiny diamond sparkling in the centre, but it still managed to make your breath hitch and your stomach drop. 

“Mi amor, mi vida, I fell in love with you when I first saw you. I fell in love even more when I got to know you and when you somehow managed to agree to be my girlfriend. I would like to spend the rest of my life with you so I want to ask this one thing: will you marry me?”

Bile rises in your throat and your heart beats rapidly as you see the look on his face- hope, fear, love. Tears gather in your eyes as more time passes and he rocks onto the back of his heels, the hand holding the ring faltering slightly as he waits and waits and waits, before it falls to his side. 

“Marcus...”

“Please say something baby.” Your heart breaks even more when you see the hopeful emotions on his face fall at your hesitation. “Please just say something. Anything.”

“I can’t,” you croak out as your head falls, tears rolling down your cheeks, avoiding the look of utter heartbreak on his face. “We’re too young, Marcus. We haven't even finished college yet; we  don't have a steady pay check; we haven't even been-”

“I know what I feel for you. I know that I love you with all my fucking heart.” He pauses, his voice raw with emotion as he fights back his tears.”Please just say yes.”

                                                       ~~~

You knew it was cowardly to run away, you know that now, but after explaining to Marcus that you weren't ready to marry him you had packed all your things and left. Avoiding all his texts, calls, attempts at catching you on campus, he eventually gave up and left you alone. It broke your heart. 

Years had passed and you both had moved on. He got married, had a kid and moved away while you continued focussing on your job having set up your own business in the city. You were happy for him, really, and you tried to ignore the feeling of jealousy that sprouted in your chest whenever you heard news of him from his mother who you kept in touch with all these years (you figured he wanted nothing to do with you anymore after your rejection).

And that's why you were surprised to receive an invitation from Marie Moreno to come visit them. 

The idea of seeing Marcus Moreno again nearly scared you into not going- something which Marie must have sensed when you had called her the day before you were supposed to travel as she made (empty) threats to hit you with her walking stick if you didn't come. It was something that you didn't want to risk. 

Standing in front of their door, however, changed your mind and you had almost made it back to the rented car before the door opened and a young girl appeared, a large smile on her face. So this must have been Missy. There was no doubt about it; her dark brown eyes that crinkled at the corners when she smiled, her skin a healthy tanned gold - everything about her proved that she was Marcus’ child. 

“It’s so nice to meet you!” She takes a step forward to shake your hand, not letting go. “My abuelita has told me so many stories about you like that one time you went over for dinner and my dad told you a joke so funny that a piece of spaghetti came out of your nose!”

“Of all the stories she has about me, of course she has to tell that one.” You mutter under your breath but the girl managed to still hear it, her smile widening. 

“Or there was that one time when-”

“Missy!” A voice calls out from the house and your heart stills as footsteps draw nearer to you. “Do you have everything? We cannot be late to this thing again otherwise Mrs Flanagan is going to have my head on a spi-”

Your heart jumps in your throat when your eyes meet, those brown eyes that you could have stared at for years when resting on his chest as the world around slowly woke up for the day. He looks older, better, a beard adorning his face and a pair of thick framed glasses perching on his nose, but he also looks...the same. His eyes widen and take in the fact that his old girlfriend from his high school days is standing on his front porch. 

“Hey.” You wave at him awkwardly with your free hand.

“Um, hello? What- what are you doing here?”

"Marie invited me...she said you knew about this.”

Marcus looks to his daughter for an answer only to be met with a sly smile and gleaming mischievous eyes. He opens his mouth to say something but before he can, a car pulls up on the street and Missy quickly grabs the bags he had dropped at his feet before running to the car. His mother's car. 

“Goddamit.” He glances at you, too scared too stare too long and remember. "I'm really sorry about this. Should've known that they were up to something- they've been acting weird these last couple of days."

"It's okay Marcus."

Your laugh is angelic, like hearing an old song again after such a long time, and he tries to ignore the way his heart thumps wildly within his chest and his stomach flips within his stomach. He smiles, clearly lost in his own thoughts and you try to ignore the way your heart speeds up at the gesture and the butterflies in your stomach. 

"Would you- do you want to come in?" His offer is tentative but it still means the world to you and you happily nod, moving past him when he takes a step back into the house. 

It’s nice, homely, as you take in the framed family pictures lining the hall that leads to the kitchen. You grin at the mess in the kitchen, breakfast plates and bowls littering the counters- he still struggled to fin the time to clean- and he must sense your thoughts as he smiles sheepishly at you, moving to put everything in the sink. 

“Do you want something to drink? Coffee? Tea?” 

“Just water please.” 

It’s awkward and tense, the air filled with unsaid things. You watch quietly as he gets a glass for you and fills it with water, eyes fixed on the task at hand instead of looking up at you. 

“How-how have you been?”

“Good. Everything’s good.” You mumble, ignoring the way his eyes look you over quickly. “Not as good as you though! You got married. And you had a kid.”

He laughs, fiddling with the ring on his finger, and your attention is drawn to the simple band of gold. His smile falters as he stares down at it. “I did. She-my wife passed away about a year ago.” 

“I’m so sorry Marcus.” Placing your glass down on the counter, you round it to stand in front of him. “How has it been?”

“Hard, yeah.” He nods his head and casts his eyes to the ground, trying to hide the tears that have started to gather in his eyes. “Missy has been dealing with it better than I have. But we’re- I’m getting there.” 

You lift your hand and place it on his arm, comforting, and he closes his eyes at the contact of warmth. His eyes lift up to meet yours, not breaking away, and you hastily take a step back, away from him. 

“It’s, uh, really nice to see you.” 

Your cheeks redden as you nod your head. “It’s nice to see you too. Anyway, I should probably go and check into the Bed and Breakfast.”

You turn to leave, Marcus trailing behind, as you open the front door and take a step outside. A mixture of feelings torment you as you glance at him over your shoulder before getting into the rental car. Before you can drive off, he runs to your car window, signalling for you to open it. 

“Would you maybe want to go to dinner with me? To catch up?” 

Those brown eyes fill with a hope that you haven't seen for a long time, that you haven't seen since the last time you had the honour of being the centre of Marcus’ life, and it makes your heart beat just a little bit faster in your chest. 

“I would love to.”

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno #marcus pike #javier pena x reader #javier pena #javier peña #the manadalorian #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian x reader #angst #fluff #smut #maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar #pero x reader #dave york x reader #dave york #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin

[tellmealovestory]

Planning

Summary: Planning for the wedding has begun with choosing a color palette. 

Notes: Also posted on my ao3. Part of Something More

I know that it’s been awhile since I’ve last posted and even longer since I’ve updated this and for that I am so sorry. The past few months have been rough and I’ve been struggling to write anything, but I’m trying which is what counts I guess. 

I haven’t forgotten about Something New - there’s for sure one more part, possibly two, but for now here’s something and again I am so sorry for how long it’s been taking me to get these posted. 

Warnings: Surprisingly none - unless you count idiots in love falling more in love.

"Black and yellow?"

"No."

"Purple, orange and black?"

"No."

"Red, white and blue?"

"Bucky, no!" Laughing at his suggestions you playfully shoved his shoulder as he shot you a grin full of mischief. “Besides, I think those are more Steve's colors."

“You opposed to pastels?" His grin only widened when you wrinkled your nose in distaste. "Red and pink?"

“Red and pink isn't the worst idea you've had," you mused, a thought working its way into your mind as you eyed the mess that surrounded you.

“Sweetheart-,” he started, but you silenced him with a look.

Reaching for a bridal magazine, one of many that laid scattered across the floor of the living room where you were both currently seated you flipped through it while Bucky continued to rattle off suggestions. Frowning, you pushed it aside before grabbing another one. Finding what you were looking for you showed him a spread with dark reds and pinks and a gold that had the barest hint of a shimmer. It was for a Valentine’s Day wedding and while you weren’t getting married on that date you still thought it was pretty.

One look at his face told he wasn’t impressed.

"Neons would be better,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, his fingers flicking a brightly colored post it note that was sticking out from the magazine.

"Please tell me you're joking."

"Maybe."  

“James!”

And this time he was the first to laugh, the richness of his voice filling up the room and drowning out the sitcom dialogue that drifted from the television a few feet in front of you.

He made it difficult at times like these to get and stay annoyed at him, but nevertheless you made an attempt with a glare shot in his direction. It was useless though when he was looking at you like that. All bright blue eyes shining with a love that still managed to steal your breath anytime he glanced at you. Laugh lines around his mouth and before you had a chance to warn him that he was seconds away from not having any say in your wedding colors he was tilting his body towards yours, lips landing on the side of your head. An innocent kiss, but it sent your heart spiraling.

Almost as much as when he murmured against your skin with breath that was warm and smelled of the chocolate ice cream you’d been sharing, “Alright, show me what you were thinking.”

Waking up your sleeping laptop that rested on the coffee table you expertly navigated the rabbit hole of Pinterest. Scrolling past boards you had created for flowers and centerpiece ideas, dresses and cakes you found the one titled colors.

A sea of palettes stared back at you; turquoises, magentas, oranges and yellows. Mints and whites. Pastel purples and soft pinks, creams and pale blues that screamed romantic. Greens and blushes. Purple and grays.

And finally, towards the bottom of the board a mix of navy blues, grays and burgundy. Burnt oranges and peaches. Sunflower yellows and dusty blues.

A  collection of colors that reminded you of him.

“Something like this I thought.” Chewing on your lower lip you glanced from Bucky to the screen and back again. Anticipation thrummed through your veins as you waited for him to say something.

“It’s a lot of blues.”

“You look good in blue.”

“All the burgundy?”

“You also look really good in burgundy.”

“You really picking colors based on how I look in them?”

“No,” you scoffed with a quick roll of your eyes that he saw right through. “Okay, fine, but it’s not the only reason.”

“You gonna share those other reasons?” He asked, leaning forward to take a closer look.

"Um... I... like those colors?" Even to your own ears the words rang false. "And they're a better choice than the random ones you were shouting out." There another reason added to your list.

"Y/N," Bucky said, amusement dripped from his voice and he bit back a smile as he pushed the laptop towards the middle of the coffee table.

For a moment the only sound in the apartment was that of a commercial advertising pizza.

Turning to you he cradled your face in his hands. "You know no ones gonna be looking at me," he said softly, the pad of his thumb brushed across your cheekbone. "They're all gonna be looking at you and how beautiful you are."

"I haven't found something to wear yet."

"Doesn't matter, sweetheart."

Biting your lip your eyes danced between his and you couldn't help asking, "What if I get a really poofy dress and I end up looking like a cupcake again?"

It was a struggle for Bucky not to laugh at the mention of a cupcake. A million memories ago, but he could still remember that night. Your fathers wedding to his new, younger bride, the hideous pink dress she had made you to wear, the endless teasing you had endured from him, the new nickname he had bestowed upon you before you banned him from ever calling you that again. In his mind it didn't matter if when your wedding came you wore a dress that made you look like a cupcake, drenched in pink that looked as if it came from a jumbo sized bottle of pepto-bismol you'd still be beautiful in his eyes.

Dipping his head down he brushed his lips against yours in a kiss sweeter than any cupcake he had ever tasted.

"Doesn't matter," he whispered again, his mouth moving over yours slowly. "You’re still gonna be the most beautiful person in the room, cupcake."

It was hard to kiss him back when your lips were curling up into a smile, a laugh bubbling to the surface followed by a rush of memories at the mention of cupcake. He hadn’t called you that in years and though you still hated it you didn’t have it in you right now to tell him to shove it.

“Is that your way of telling me you hate my choices?” You asked, breathless from the feeling of his lips against yours. “No,” he laughed, stealing another kiss. “It’s my way of saying you should really give my suggestions another chance.”

“Buc-,”

“I’m kidding!”

Another kiss, this one to your forehead as the commercial ended and the sitcom returned. Turning your attentions back to the screen at the same time you rested your head on his shoulder, eyes scanning through the options again, his for the second time and yours for what felt like the hundredth since first compiling the list.

“I really do like these colors. Especially this one,” you said, bringing up a palette with dusty and navy blues, marigold and a hint of dark green.

No matter how many options you had looked at you kept going back to it. It was pretty and it was an added bonus that he looked in most of those colors.

“That the one you want?”

Biting your lip you switched back to your second choice. Navy blue, maroon and gray. More colors he looked good in, more colors that you had been drawn to, but in your heart you knew which one you wanted.

“Yeah, but what do you think?”

“I like it,” he said.

“You agreed to that awfully quick.” Your tone was light and you couldn’t help asking, “Are you only saying that cause you’re tired of looking?”

“No. ‘M saying it cause you like it.” His eyes darted down to the shiny engagement ring that sat pretty on your ring finger. Lifting his gaze up he continued, “And cause I don’t care about the colors.”

No sooner did the words leave his mouth and he was left scrambling to explain when he saw your widened eyes.

“Sweetheart.” His hand slid along your cheek. “Whatever colors you choose are gonna be fine, but I’m not gonna be paying attention to them. Our friends and family might, but the only thing I’m gonna be paying attention to is you and how I’m finally marrying the woman of my dreams.”

His words sunk in amid the closing credits of a sitcom and as tears welled in your eyes and your laptop drifted off to sleep the only words you could manage were a breathless, “Oh, Bucky.”

You had never thought planning your wedding would be so emotional.

You kissed him softly, savoring the way his lips moved against yours in a practiced ease that still made your stomach fill with butterflies. Just as he was about to deepen the kiss you pulled back with a start and a flurry of questions.

“Wait, if you don’t care about this why did we spend two hours looking and why did you offer such awful suggestions?”

Bucky swallowed, his cheeks flushing deep pink. “You asked me to,” he said simply, before adding on as his cheeks turned even darker, “Maybe I wanted to make you laugh a bit.”

Mission accomplished.

Parting your lips to speak he beat you to it saying, “I also wanted to spend time with you and I know how much planning this means to you.”

It felt as if your heart was going to burst right out of your chest. You didn’t know anyone who would willingly want to spend that much time going over colors, debating between two shades that were nearly identical when they could have been doing something they enjoyed.

Searching for the words to tell him all of that you came up empty, settling with a simple, but true, "I love you, Bucky."

Which you followed up with another sweet kiss, once again marveling at how lucky you were to be marrying him.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #my writing

[qianinterprises]

Among the Horses {Part One}

Pairing: farm boy!Jaehyun x female!Reader

Other Characters: OC's, Haechan (sorta, kinda, not really), Renjun (sorta, kinda, not really)

Genre: fluff, angst, country au, farmboys and lady's au, falling in love, slow burn, friends to lovers

Warnings: verbally abusive aunt, yelling, degrading (not the fun kind)

Word Count: 3.8k

Overall Synopsis: Being sent to live with your aunt isn't exactly something wonderful, especially because she's verbally abusive and downright determined to turn you into a "proper lady" who a wealthy man will want to marry. However, perhaps living there won't be so bad. After all, you've got a handsome farm boy teaching you to ride horses.

Part One Synopsis: Arriving at your aunts is very challenging and trying. After being put through the ringer with your attire, you finally get a chance to explore the green world, and spend more time with the farm boy who'd picked you up from the airport.

Author's Notes: So I started this a while ago and didn't really do anything with it, but I love it and I really wanna write more so yeah... Also, I've posted this on a03 as well.

Tagging: @treasuretaeil @hachanbaecon @hwangful

A white, dirty pick-up truck pulled off the main road and onto a long, winding dirt road, leading them closer to a grand house that you had only been to a few times in your life. The place you’d be living for the next year or two.

The truck bumped along the loose gravel, crashing over potholes, sending you bouncing on the very worn cloth of the cab, your eyes glancing worriedly to the male beside you, one of his hands planted firmly on the hard steering wheel, the other loosely placed on the stick shifter in the center of the bench.

“Are you sure the tires won’t… fall off?” your voice was thick and laiden with worry.

He glanced over at you, warm brown eyes gazing intently into yours, the opticals flecked with curiosity and amusement. Embarrassment crept under your skin.

“You haven’t been out here in awhile? Have you miss?” he asked, tone filled with friendly amusement.

You awkwardly scratched at your nose, a bit of a nervous habit she’d picked up over the years.

“No. My parents never had the money to travel.”

Your voice was small, etched in nervousness and anxiety.

He cast you a gentle smile as he pulled the truck around a sharp curve in the road, and there it was.

The house was huge, at least three stories high and stretched across the land it was perched upon. The foundation red brick that looked freshly cleaned (it probably had been), a contrast to the pearly white of the rest of the structure. The curves and contours of the slightly oddly shaped house made it more enchanting and nerve-wracking, especially as you grew closer, tires hitting the smooth cement before your driver moved the shifter and parked the truck.

“Head on in, miss, I’ll get your bags.”

His accent was a combination of Asian mixed with southern, an odd mix that somehow seemed so delicately smooth and perfect, especially the way he drawled over the “r’s”

“Miss?”

You’d been stuck in your thoughts, eyes wide as you surveyed the prospects of your new home.

“Right, yes, thank you,” you said softly, moving to get out, the door creaking as it was opened.

Your black, falling apart sneakers hit the tan pavement of the driveway, the hooks of your overalls rattling loosely against your torso as they accommodated your movements; the loose denim legs falling just above your knees as you pushed the dingy door closed.

The male you’d ridden with, Jaehyun, he said his name was, pulled the latch of the truck bed and reached up to grab your mismatched luggage, his sturdy frame pressing into the hot metal of the truck.

“Do you need some help?”

Your voice was small, mixed with worry and hesitation.

You’d do just about anything to prolong the inevitable.

“That’s quite alright, miss,” he began. “You should head on inside. The heat is a harsh place for a lady,” he answered.

You looked down, playing with your fingers, but you didn’t reply. Instead, slowly moving toward the brick steps that would lead to the entrance of the beautiful home.

~

Anina Lee was a strict lady. She liked things just a certain way and she got them how she wanted. She didn’t tolerate bad behavior or disobedience. And she had a strong dislike for people that got in her way. Thus, she had never been married.

She lived alone, if you count having two live-in maids, a chef, and a stable hand that slept in the barn as living alone.

Alina was your aunt. Your mother’s elder sister who had alienated your mother when she’d married a man of lower class. That same man later had a wife who blessed him with three kids to care for, spending his days fixing the cars of those more fortunate than him, hoping to make a buck for his family.

That’s why you were here. A young girl, coming of age to be married off and starting a family of your very own. Your family couldn’t support you any longer, and as you prepared to move away in hopes of finding some sort of job or a life, your aunt had hastlessly offered to take you in. Your mother had all too happily obliged, hoping her only and eldest daughter would learn a thing or two from the elder woman, maybe turn you into the lady your mother and father had tried for years to make you.

The stainless white door slowly opened and an older woman stood in the frame. She was clearly in her 50s, stress lines drawn thickly in her forehead, wrinkles in the corners of her dull gray eyes, deep lines around her nose and mouth, her neck sagging just a little beneath her sharp jaw. She was a small lady. On first glance one may have a hard time understanding what makes her so fierce. She was small in stature, small in size and in frame, but she had the tongue of a snake, the heart of a lioness, and the skill of a chimp.

“(Y/N)! You’re finally here!”

You stood a good few inches taller than the woman, but that made you more nervous if anything. You made her way up the steps and, as you reached the woman in the door, you were promptly pulled into a proper hug that severely lacked warmth.

“I can’t believe you got on a plane and sat amongst all those people in that ghastly attire. You must change at once!”

The woman’s voice was so shrill it could pierce glass, but you held back the flinch.

“Martha!” the same voice called into the house as she pulled you in, shutting the door and encompassing them in the cool air conditioning.

A larger lady appeared, dressed in stained blue jeans and an ugly yellow shirt.

“Please show my niece to her room and help her change into something more… feminine and lady-like,” her aunt’s voice commanded.

“When you’re finished dear, have Martha show you to my study.”

There was no endearing term in the word “dear.” Simply an icy addition to a perfectly manicured sentence.

You watched your aunts receding form, pencil skirt tight on her legs, black heels sharply hitting the hardwood intimidatingly.

“Come with me, dear. Let’s get you changed,” the larger lady spoke softly.

She was older, maybe 60 or so, her skin dark tan, although you couldn’t tell if it was the sun or her natural skin pigmentation. Her voice was grainy, but soft and endearing. Motherly she’d dare say. And you thought that this woman may actually make living here bearable.

You followed the lady up the grand staircase, up two flights of stairs and down a long hallway until you reached the end. The lady pushed open the thick white door and stepped inside, you following her closely.

Inside, the room was surprisingly rustic. A simple, full-sized bed with an obviously homemade comforter thrown across it. A light gray plush rug beside the bed. The hardwood floors were surprisingly and delightfully bare. One large section of the wall was home to a large bay window that stretched from the ceiling to the plush gray cushion of the bench. There were a few flower paintings and other pointless nicknacks scattered on obsolete surfaces around the room, but you paid no mind to them as your attention was drawn to the lady opening the large mahogany grand dresser and plucking out two cloths.

She unfolded both neatly, placing them on the bed and you sighed. The skirt was long and pleated, patterns of red and white stretched in an annoying kaleidoscope arrangement across the nearly pointless garment and the white shirt appeared to be partly transparent.

“Go ahead and get changed dear, I’ll help you when you finish,” she said kindly and turned her back.

You waited for her to leave the room but it was apparent she had no intention to. Awkwardly, you began unhooking the straps of your overalls, letting the fabric clang to the floor. Your skin heated up, feeling all too exposed before sliding into the skirt, the itchy elastic clinging to your hips uncomfortably. You pulled your stained blue t-shirt off, swapping it for the crisp white one that you feared you’d stain in the next few moments.

The lady turned around, her wide hips bumping into the dresser slightly. The dresser was sturdy enough not to jostle, but it was obvious the corner was sharp and painful. You almost felt bad at the way the lady’s face winced, but it was quickly pushed away as calloused hands began gripping the delicate skin of your arms, squeezing along the skin up your arms.

She tsked and turned around, rummaging through the dresser once again, only to turn around with a black, light cardigan.

You gawked. Why on earth would you wear that atrocious thing in this weather? It was the middle of August! Not December!

“I know. But if your aunt were to see your arms, she’d have a fit. She probably still will,” she said.

You sighed. Your aunt hadn’t changed one bit. Your skin was fragile. The tops of your forearms lightly tanned, a pigment passed on from your father. The rest of your arms and body entirely was light. Lady’s should be gorgeously sunkissed to be beautiful and to be taken seriously.

With a huff, you put on the long black sleeves, the intricately designed cotton draping over your shoulders perfectly. But that didn’t mean it was any more comfortable. You could already feel the added heat seeping onto your skin. You’d be sweaty and uncomfortable soon.

“Now let’s do something about your feet.”

You looked down; your worn socks had holes all through them, mud permanently stained to the sweaty fabric.

Bustling from the room, you were left stunned in the wake of the surprisingly fast woman, watching her round the corner and disappear down the hall to fetch something to apparently “fix your feet.”

You thought you’d do something to speed along the process. The more time spent getting you dressed in these ridiculous clothes, the less time you had to explore the outside world. You made your way to the bay window, taking a seat on the plush cushion that accommodated you nicely. You pressed your back against the edge of the wall and turned your gaze to the picturesque green world filled with surprisingly lush looking grass, dips and hills along the valley, and the tops of trees further off in the distance. All this land was yours for the roaming. You couldn’t wait to get out those doors and go exploring.

The sound of water sloshing in a pot brought your attention back from the window, glancing curiously as the large lady placed the pot down in front of the window.

“Put your feet in.”

You didn’t argue. You were hesitant, but thought better than to argue and have your aunt boil you alive in this pot.

As soon as your dingy, dirty, mud pasted feet hit the water, you hissed. The temperature felt that it could boil the skin right off.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s hot, but your aunt is expecting you down soon and I have to do this as quickly as possible,” the lady said.

Grabbing your left foot, she picked the appendage up from the water along with a suds coated dish sponge and began mercilessly scrubbing away at the tender flesh. You whined and howled, tears pricking to your eyes as your skin was scrubbed and abused by the harsh bristles of the brush. You attempted to yank your foot away, but the tight grip on your ankle prevented much movement. You were stuck suffering as the skin became reddened from the irritation.

~

As soon as the painful experience came to a close, your now pink feet were dried with a towel before being slid into a pair of eccentrically beaded, golden strapped sandals that accentuated the rest of the over-the-top outfit nicely.

“You seem presentable enough now, although I’m sure the mistress of the house would have a few unkind things to say about your wild mane.”

You tried not to take offense. You liked your hair. It was an untamed mop that curved wildly carefree, blowing in the breeze that picked up the thick tufts.

“Thank you for your help ma’am.”

She bowed at the waist, a kind smile on her lips.

“No need for the ma’am dear. Call me Martha, or Mrs. Rivera if you must.”

And with no more haste, Martha Rivera led you back down the grand staircase to the bottom floor, the tight flats biting at your heels and ankles with every step you took, fighting off the winces that followed. You rounded a few sharp corners, venturing into a large sitting room with an extravagant flat screen high on the wall and couches that looked brand new. Through a dining room, table decorated with a sequined bronze cloth and the finest China you’d ever seen, although that wasn’t really a stretch. Finally, they made it to a large oak door, cracked just enough that you could see your aunt’s silhouette sitting behind an elegant red desk, glasses perched on her nose, pen in hand, eyes married to the computer screen. Mrs. Rivera left you by the door, and you almost spun on your heel and walked away. But of course, that would be too easy.

“Come in child. Stop standing in the doorway.”

Your blood froze in your veins. You pushed the door open and stolled in, tripping over the lion skin rug, stumbling a bit before catching your balance. Harsh wisps of breath rushed past your aunt's lips and the chair creaked as the weight lifted from it.

You straightened your back, staring fearfully into the cold gray eyes that trailed over your face and down your clothes.

The woman began moving slowly around you, manicured nails and boney fingers tracing over the outline of your clothes and jaw, running through your wild mane and down your hands, inspecting the bitten off nails. As she walked, she muttered things like “hair won’t do” and “horrible posture” before she stood back in front of you.

“You simply won’t do,” she said sternly.

The words hit hard. You may have been expecting something like this, but it didn’t make the words hurt any less.

“You look like you’ve been sleeping with the horses. Your nails are pitiful. Your skin is far too light.”

She gripped your jaw, tilting your head up harshly to expose your still slightly chubby neck.

“Can you ride a horse?”

The question was sudden and it caught you off guard, but you answered as quickly as your brain would allow.

“N-no. I’ve never ridden before.”

The woman sighed loudly, hot puffs of air pouring out of her flared nostrils.

“That’ll have to change. Starting tomorrow, you will be taking riding lessons from the stable boy. Every lady should have the basic skills of riding,” her tone was cold and brisk as she looked away and perched back at her desk.

“You’re dismissed. Dinner is at 6. Don’t be late. You may roam the grounds.”

With a wave of her hand, she dismissed her niece and immediately went back to work, not bating another eyelash as you fled hastlessly from the room, your eyes welling with tears as stress and fear washed over you, although more relieved that it was over and you could finally do something for yourself. You’d start by ditching these God forsaken shoes.

You made your way around the back door of the house, more by pure necessity than memory, simply logically thinking the best way around in the expansive flooring. When you made it, a smile broke across your face as you unfastened the painful shoes, kicking them off in a sloppy jumble by the door before opening the heavy door, the heat of the afternoon hitting your face, not that you minded.

As you stepped out, bare feeting meeting hot cement, you stripped the cardigan from your shoulders, draping it over a random, sun baked chair. You tore off through the grass, laughing giddily, breeze blowing wisps of your hair, skirt fluttering delicately over your skin. It would be difficult to do anything in the blasted thing, but you wouldn’t give yourself enough time to strip down into something better, opting to enjoy the last of the day while you could. And you’d start in the bright red barn your eyes immediately fell on.

~

Making your way through the soft grass that squished under the weight of your feet, you strolled into the half open barn, the soft snorts of animals bringing a smile to your lips. Just because you couldn’t ride, doesn’t mean you didn’t love the animals. You loved horses especially. They were such beautiful and majestic creatures. You’d always wanted a horse, but your family had never been able to afford one. You’d always wanted to ride, and now you could, although you didn’t understand why it was so important to your aunt.

The cool concrete felt rough beneath your feet, stray straws of hay littering the floor. It could have been a picture straight out of one of the Country Living magazines you’d kept hidden away at your parents home.

The first horse you came upon was a tall brown animal, head hung over the stall door, ears perked to attention, eyes trained on the new invader inside the barnhouse. He snorted at you and his hoof hit the barn door lightly in an attempt at getting closer. You stepped closer, slowly offering your hand out, letting the animal sniff searchingly.

“He’s looking for some sugar cubes.”

The voice came out of nowhere, interrupting your serenity, a yelp leaving your lips as your whole body jolted in the sudden fright.

You turned your head to the barn door where your driver was standing, taunt arms crossed over a broad chest, veiled from prying eyes by a lightweight flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His long legs were clad in dusty denim, mud and hay from his knees to the tops of the worn work boots.

“I’m sorry. I just like horses-”

“And you thought you’d come visit them?” he finished your sentence.

You immediately began shuffling your feet, eyes turning back to study the fading paint on the stall to keep from facing him.

Heavy footsteps hit the floor as the male moved closer until he was close enough to touch. His large, rough hand gripped your wrist lightly, bringing it up toward him. You let out a little yelp, riddled with confusion and curiosity until three small blocks were placed in your palm.

“Hold your palm out to him and don’t jerk away,” he spoke calmly, slowly urging you.

You nodded, having some sort of unkempt trust in his words as you turned back to the animal and extended your arm, palm flat, cubed sugar offered to the horse, who greedily munched them right out of your hands.

“His name’s Haechan. He’s a bit of a character.”

You nodded, drawing your now horse-slobbered hand away, opting to stroke the animal's fur from his nose to between his eyes.

“That’s an interesting name,” you said.

He hummed behind you and you heard his boots hitting the concrete as he moved away.

“Do you like animals?” he asked.

You spun around, eyes wide and shining.

“Yes! I love them! Sometimes I prefer animals over humans!”

His smile was gentle as he surveyed your physique, a dusty pink tinting his cheeks, although you thought nothing of it.

“Come on, I want to show you something,”he said, walking past you to the opposite exit of the barn.

You followed close behind, curious as to where he was taking her. Your feet fell back onto the grass, the long blades sliding between your toes as you followed in his wake. As they walked, a white picket fence came into view, not far from the barn, but oddly well hidden beneath the crest of a hill rolling through the land. Once you reached the fence, his hands curled around the boards, hoisting himself up, foot balanced on the bottom board as he climbed up, throwing a leg over one side, then the other, and jumping down. You stared at him in awestruck confusion.

“Climb over, I’ll catch you on this side.”

You didn’t know why you blindly trusted him. You didn’t know him from a random stranger in the town, but you complied, placing your foot onto the same board he had, pulling yourself up and swinging a leg over, then another. The skirt snagged in the boards a few times, one of your feet nearly slipping off the boards as you attempted to keep it pushed down. This proved to be more of a challenge as you balanced on your heels, hands clutching the top piece of wood as you contemplated how to get down now. That is, until his arms outstretched, slightly bent at the elbow, fingers parted, palms facing one another, and you knew what he wanted you to do. Taking a deep breath, you pushed off with your left foot, hands releasing your grip on the fence, letting yourself drop, eyes squeezing in slight fear that you’d soon flop hard against the green earth. But when strong hands caught your waist, arms drawing you in, broad chest breaking your fall, you braced herself against him, feet carefully being lowered until they pressed back into the earth.

“See, that wasn’t so bad.”

His teasing tone had you pulling away, glaring playfully at him before turning and pretending to walk away, leaving him in your path.

At least, until you heard a rustling in the long grass inside the fence.

You squeaked as it grew closer taking a step back as your harsh gaze followed the rustling of the grass, positive a snake would wrap itself around your leg as it dug its venomous fangs into your soft flesh.

Needless to say, you were in for quite a shock when the small head of a brown and white calf popped up from the grass.

And you were sinking to your knees.

The calf moved toward your lowered body, sniffing at your arms until you reached out to run a hand down it’s small head and back, cooing quietly, eyes brimming with unfiltered delight as you wrapped your arms around the baby, stroking the fur of its back lovingly.

“This is Renjun. He’s my little cousin's calf.”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t have to. Your cooes of joy were enough to show every emotion you were currently feeling.

Horrible aunt or not. You could certainly find worse places to be trapped. At least here you had rolling hills of green, beautiful animals to fawn over, and Jaehyun, handsome stableboy who you couldn’t wait to get to know.

#ficscafe #klibrary #kdinernet #supermwritersnet #jaehyun x reader #nct x reader #farm au #farm living #horses #cows #jaehyun x y/n #jaehyun x you #original character #friends to lovers #slow burn #series #nct series #jaehyun series

[redhoodssweetheart]

Star-Crossed Lovers Part Two

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Requested: Yes @sarcasmismyfirstlove​

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Swearing, angst, Reader has an assumed name in this (she is not named, but she goes by Sophia Turner since she is in hiding)

Description:  Y/N now lives in Metropolis, she likes her life, but she misses the one she lost.  Jason has spent eight months trying to find her, but to no avail.  Maybe they truly weren’t meant to be.

A/N: I originally wasn’t going to post this part so soon.  But I got inspired today and couldn’t stop writing it.  I hope y’all enjoy.  And please pretend that’s not a notebook for school okay.  I’m too lazy to go looking for something new right now. 

Her window was open letting in a nice spring breeze.  Dinner was cooking in the oven and she was reading over the events from that day.  It had been eight months since Y/N had hopped off the bus at the Metropolis station and entered the motel she would be staying at for the next few days. That was when she had found a quaint apartment that would do until she got on her feet.

Her phone buzzed and she looked over at it.

Clark: I need a favor, Sophie.

Sophie.  The name she had assumed when she moved to Metropolis.  Her full name was Sophia Turner.  Sionis was more than likely dead, but Y/N wasn’t taking any chances.  She hadn’t stopped looking over her shoulder since that night, and sometimes she would dream that he had found her. 

In her dreams sometimes he was torturing her, but sometimes it was Red sitting in that chair.  He was begging her to do something while Sionis laughed sadistically and said, “My little puppet ain’t gonna do shit, Red.  She used you.”

“No!”  Y/N would cry when she registered the betrayal on Red’s face.  

She would sit up straight in her bed and gasp before the dream went any further.  Most of the time she would look at the clock and see it was still in the early hours of the morning.  

Now she was staring at the text from Clark and sighed.

Sophia:  I’m listening, but you’ll owe me, Kent.

Clark was a good guy.  A little flighty at times, but that was part of his charm.  He was the one that had taken the risk on her when she had gone to the Daily Planet trying to get a job.  He never abused that either.  He was a genuinely good guy, something that had unnerved Y/N at first, but now she was grateful for it.

Clark:  I’m supposed to be meeting with Lex Luthor tomorrow to ask him about the Superboy project, but I’m needed elsewhere.  Sort of a family emergency.  Do you think you can cover for me with Lex?

Lex was Metropolis’s biggest asshole.  And she could eat him for breakfast.

Sophia: Sure thing.  Need me to water your plants while you’re away?

Clark:  Please?  I’ll leave the key to my place in my top desk drawer, just pick it up tomorrow when you come in.  You’re a lifesaver, Sophie. 

A lifesaver….  Sure.

Jason came home to the manor at least once a week for a good home cooked meal and so he wouldn’t be alone at the safehouse.  He hadn't returned to the one that he and Y/N had always frequented.  He couldn’t, she was still haunting the place.  Tonight however when he entered the manor he heard Dick and Tim arguing.

“You need to tell him,” Dick hissed.  “He deserves to know the truth.”

“No, I made a promise to her that I wouldn’t,” Tim spat back.  “Plus I haven’t even found Sionis yet.  How would it look if Red Hood showed up in a city other than Gotham?  Sionis knows about them, and Y/N would be compromised.”

Jason’s breath hitched at the sound of her name.  Tim knew?  Tim knew and hadn’t told Jason anything.

He threw open the door so hard that it let a dent in the wall, Dick cringed knowing that Alfred was going to be mad at that.  Tim looked coolly at Jason, unbothered by the display.  “Where is she, Replacement?”

“Who?”  

Jason was starting to see red.  “You know damn well who.  Y/N.  Where is she?  What the fuck did you do?”

Dick came over to Jason and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, but it was roughly tossed off by Jason, “Jay--”

“Don’t,” he snapped, his gaze going to Dick.  “Don’t you dare.  Tim knows something and I want to know what it is.”

Bruce entered the kitchen, having heard the raucous that his boys were causing.  “Tim, Dick, I need a moment alone with Jason.”  They nodded and swiftly made their exit.  Bruce leaned against the counter, “Y/N’s story about how she came to work with Sionis was true.”  Jason looked at Bruce confused.  “Except I met her a month before she met you.”

“What?”  Jason’s tone relayed the shock he felt.

Bruce closed his eyes, “She got mixed up with the wrong people because of her boyfriend and after Sionis killed him he kidnapped her and forced her to take on the role as a bodyguard.  Commissioner Gordon came to me with a note from an anonymous source from someone in Sionis’s organization telling him to send the Bat to a certain location.  I met with Y/N and she told me that she wanted out, that she didn’t want to be payment for her ex’s misdeeds.  She fed me information and in exchange I promised to set her free.”

“So you knew that she was going to fake her death this entire time?!”  Jason’s anger was returning.  He had spent the last eight months agonizing over where she could be, turning over every stone only to come up with a dead end.  And this entire time Bruce had known it was a ploy all along.

“Yes, but  didn’t know the two of you had been involved.  She never disclosed that to me, and I didn’t expect her to tell me things she did in her free time.”  Bruce looked regretful, “Jason, I think you were the only normal relationship in her life and I think you brought her some semblance of happiness.”

“Apparently not enough to tell me the plan,” he said bitterly.

Bruce pulled something from his pocket and passed it over to Jason, “It’s from her.  I don’t know where it came from, but if I had to guess I wouldn’t be able to figure it out either.  I haven’t read it, but maybe she will answer some of your questions.”  With that, Bruce took his leave.

Dear Red,

By now you probably know that I’m not dead.  Maybe you even know that I met with Batman a month before I ever even met with you.  That was purely coincidental.  I didn’t plan on things progressing like they did between us.  It made my job a whole hell of a lot more complicated that it needed to be.  And for what it’s worth I’m sorry for how it all went down, but Red, I hope you understand that I couldn’t tell you.  That was just not an option.

I’m somewhere safe for now.  I have been for awhile, just blending in and living my life to the fullest that I can.  I hope you’re doing well too and not getting too many bullet wounds.  Who’s going to patch you up now that I’m not there :p

He chuckled at the little hand drawn face.

I do miss you, Red.  Our banter.  Your kisses.  How you made me feel normal for a few hours a night.  Even with the mask on I could still pretend we were just two average people living our lives.

We were dealt a shitty hand, and as I told you that night we truly are just star-crossed lovers.  I’ll see you in the next life, Red.  Maybe that one will be kinder to us, and maybe I can finally see what color your eyes are.  Can I tell you what color I think they are?  Blue, I always imagined you had the prettiest shade of blue eyes.  Like the sky on a summer day.  Cloudless and beautiful.

I need to cut this short before I start crying on the page.  Take care of yourself, Red.  I’ll be waiting for you at the River Styx or maybe you’ll be waiting for me.  And I’ll finally know your real name and what color your eyes truly are.

Goodbye, Red.

Y/N

Jason stared at your name signed at the bottom for the longest time and finally when he tore his eyes away from it, he neatly folded it and put it back in the envelope.  He then headed up to his room and stored the letter in one of his drawers, not wanting anyone to disturb it.

The Daily Planet was bustling when Y/N arrived to work the following morning.  Clark - who was usually in before her - was nowhere to be seen.  She hadn’t expected to see him, but it was still weird.  

Wandering over to his desk she found the key like he had promised and stuck it in her pocket before heading to her own desk and preparing for the meeting with Lex.  Lois stopped by her desk to say good morning and chit chat for a few minutes before going to work on her own assignments.  Around ten thirty Y/N headed out to LexCorp.

“Mr. Kent was supposed to be interviewing Mr. Luthor,” the receptionist said.

Y/N kept the forced smile on her face, “Yes, that’s true, but Mr. Kent unfortunately had an emergency that has taken him out of the city and he asked me to fill in.”  She showed the receptionist her credentials.  “I am more than qualified to handle the interview today.”

“It’s fine Lacy,” a new voice added and Y/N turned to see Lex standing there with a smile on his face.  “I was alerted of the change last night, Mr. Kent was nice enough to email me and let me know.  Miss Turner, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You too, Mr. Luthor,” she responded.  As she made to leave the receptionist area she shot a scathing look at the girl behind the desk who was frowning.  She probably thought Y/N was some groupie waiting to throw herself at Lex.

As if.

The two of them made it into Lex’s office and he offered her something to drink.  “Water, coffee, tea?  Just say the word and I can have it here for you immediately.”

“No thank you, I’m quite all right,” the quicker that she could get this interview over the better.  She got her recorder set up and looked to Lex, “Clark informed me that he was going to be talking to you about the Superboy project, is that correct?”

“Yes it is, everyone has been dying to know more about the program,” he responded.  “The world needed a Superman, as I’m sure you’re aware Superman was thought to be dead there for a good while.”

Y/N had known that, although she had been in Gotham at the time more concerned with her own welfare than that of a superhero that had supposedly died.  “I am, so you decided to respond and give Metropolis hope then?  That is what Superman represents, is it not?”

There was a shift in Lex’s smile that Y/N picked up on, but she wasn’t going to push him on it.  He apparently had a dislike of Superman, but if he didn’t like him then why create a clone?  “Yes it is, and yes I wanted to give this city some hope that everything was going to be okay.  That LexCorp would make sure that while the big, bad Superman was away I would be the one to look after us.”

Y/N hummed, “Mr. Luthor, how long have you been working on this project?  This doesn’t seem like an overnight solution and you seemed to unveil it fairly quickly?”

“Are you trying to insinuate something, Miss Turner?”  Lex’s eyes narrowed.

Y/N’s smile turned predatory, “No sir, just merely asking some questions.  I wondered how something as complex as replicating Superman’s powers took place so quickly.  And how?  How did you replicate Superman’s powers?”

“I had some of Superman’s DNA on hand, a gift from the Man of Steel himself,” Lex replied coolly.  

Hardly, Y/N thought.  She knew how these heroes worked, their identities were pivotal in maintaining some semblance of a normal life outside of hero hours.  There was no way that Lex had legally obtained that DNA sample he claimed to have gotten from Superman.  “It sounds like you and Superman are close, would you say that the two of you are friends?”

“Oh yes,” Lex matched her smile as if trying to intimidate her.  What he didn’t know is she had been around some of the worst Gotham had to offer and he didn’t frighten her in the slightest.  “We were very close.”

“You must have been crushed when everyone thought that he had died.”  She saw through his smile and the lies.  Superman and Lex weren’t close, but he wasn’t going to say that in something that would be printed in the Daily Planet.

“I was, it was like losing an old friend,” Lex rested a hand over his chest for dramatic effect.

Before she could ask her next question they heard someone saying, “Sir, sir you can’t go in there.”

The door to Lex’s office opened and revealed Bruce Wayne.  Y/N had never had the pleasure of meeting him when she had lived in Gotham.  She hadn’t run in those circles, but she would know the billionaire anywhere.  “Lex, we need to speak now.”  His gaze landed on her and she froze.  For the first time in a while she felt exposed under the intense look he was giving her.

“Could it wait, Bruce,” Lex forced out.  “I am in a meeting with the lovely Miss Sophia Turner here.”  

Y/N turned to Lex, still feeling the weight of Bruce’s stair on her back as she did so, “It’s all right, Mr. Luthor.  You seem to have some important business to attend to right now.  Thank you for your time.  The article should be out by Friday if all goes well.  Email me with any other information you can disclose about the Superboy project that would be pertinent for the article.  Have a nice day,” then she fled as quickly as she could.

Bruce watched Y/N flee the office.  Sophia Turner, huh?  He wasn’t surprised to find her living under an assumed name.  He looked to Lex who was glaring at him, “Did I interrupt something?”

Lex’s eyes narrowed, “You damn well know you did.  Now what do you want?”

“You have a leak,” Bruce said, causing Lex’s face to pale.

Y/N made it back to her desk without any other blasts from her past and she began to go over the information she had from her interview and checked her email to see that Lex’s assistant had sent over any other relevant information she would need to type up the remaining gaps.  

A few hours later she was closing up shop and heading to Clark’s to make sure his plants didn’t die.  As she moved down the sidewalk her mind drifted to thoughts of Red Hood, wondering what he was up to and if he were okay.  She also wondered if he had gotten her letter yet or if maybe he had thrown it out the moment he knew that it was from her.

She wouldn’t blame him if he had.

As she continued down the street she accidentally bumped into someone.  She stumbled for a moment and looked up as she said, “Sorry.”  When her eyes met his, she was shocked to find the prettiest blue she had ever seen.

He smiled at her, “It’s all right.  Have a good evening.”  Then he was sidestepping her and going about his business.  She watched him go, wondering why he seemed so familiar to her.

And those eyes.

Like the sky on a summer day.  Cloudless and beautiful.

#Jason Todd x Reader #Jason Todd x Fem!Reader #Jason Todd x Reader angst #Jason Todd #Jason Todd fanfic #Jason Todd fanfiction #Jason Todd angst #Requested