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auspicioustidings · 2 months

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Ae Fond Kiss - Part 1

Winsome Wee Thing

Summary: This is the start of a story from this concept. You fall in love and you learn loss more ways than one. Words: 3.9k TWs: major character death (temporary), miscarriage

Parts: 1 2 3

You and your boyfriend's Lieutenant disliked one another immensely and immediately.

For you it wasn’t so much that the hulking idiot was in a balaclava, although you found the skull pattern so teenage boy edgy that it caused a cringe deep enough to feel right through your molars, it was the obvious dismissal he had for you. For Simon it wasn’t so much that Johnny’s newest pretty little bit was a smart arse, although he could practically feel the ‘not like other girls’ radiating off of you in waves, it was the obvious disdain you had for him. The first impression set the tone for what became a horrid relationship.

–

“This is my Lieutenant, they call him Ghost but I believe he prefers to be called-”

“That’ll do.”

There was something about the way he cut the puppy dog that was your boyfriend off that riled you a little.

“Nice to meet you, Ghost. Is that your gamer tag or something?”

“Never been one for games. You a gamer girl?”

“Not enough to have such a cool nickname.”

“Oh I’m sure we could come up with a nickname that would suit you princess.”

Gaz, who you did like, spent the rest of the night meditating while Johnny remained clueless to the simmering hostility between the two of you. Price didn’t really seem to know what to make of it all, but you found you had a natural respect for the Captain and as time went on, he was the one that could always tell you and Ghost to knock it off if he could see a fight brewing.

–

Johnny had been so excited to introduce you to his team and his team to you and the only thing you and bonehead could seem to agree on was that you would pretend to be civil when Johnny was around. So the jokes were underhanded but could be brushed off as humour, the vitriol was kept for when his back was turned, the eventual birthday presents were tactfully meant to appear innocent but actually be biting insults and the all out war that was had around a pool table was played off as healthy competition.

If it has been anyone but John MacTavish you’d have dumped him purely so you would never have to see Simon Riley again, but fuck you fell hard and fast for Johnny. You didn’t even fully remember your first meeting. It had been a blind date and you thought you had been stood up so got well past merrily drunk at the bar of a nice restaurant. You had not been stood up, your date had broken down in the snow and in the hours you had been drinking the flurries had become a full blizzard. But that wasn’t going to stop Johnny. In the middle of a backroad with a blizzard beating down and no signal to call he had hiked his ass all the way to you, getting there just in time to catch you wobbling out the door.

He had been a gentleman, hadn’t taken advantage. You woke up the next day with a handsome man bringing you breakfast in bed and apologising profusely for the whole thing. He had slept on your couch and admitted sheepishly that he had walked you home. From what little you did remember, you had made it difficult by starting a snowball fight and wanting to make snow angels every 5 minutes. You remembered the scent of pine and a roaring fire that enveloped you when he had bundled you in his jacket, breathing in and being transported to a log cabin in the Scottish highlands in winter, safe and drinking something warm with a hint of whiskey.

If you hadn’t already been falling for him after his bashful teasing that morning, you were flung head first into it when you spent the next week looking after him when his gallantry earned him the worst cold known to man. He was a big baby when he was sick and that combined with the terrible sense of humour that he had made you desperate to learn more about him.

–

“Ye cannae be mean tae me, I’m naw long for this world!”

For such a large man, he really was like a little kid bundled up in blankets and whining.

“Uh huh, that’s very valid and very sad but you still need to take your medicine.”

“I was never any good at swallowing, maybe ye can give it tae me as a suppository.”

Ridiculous man.

“Aww come on, swallow like a good boy and maybe we can talk about that suppository when you’re better.”

“Fuck, where have ye been all my life?”

His loopy grin nearly made you plant a kiss on his lips regardless of how ill he was, but instead you just ruffled his hair when he knocked back the pills and wondered how you were ever going to keep from loving this man.

–

The second date he had left you with a fond kiss at the doorstep after a wild night of earning enough tickets at the arcade to win him a little plush skull toy. He had been obsessed with it when he had first seen it, had told you he needed to win it for his Lieutenant. You thought that was adorable and had put your frankly suspiciously good reflexes to work absolutely rinsing the whack a mole for every ticket you could get from it. Of course had you known then that Simon Riley was the biggest ass on the planet you’d have hoarded your tickets and gotten 300 packets of Haribo instead (or so you’d like to think, but you knew deep down you could never have denied Johnny knowing how bright he smiled when he had traded the tickets for that stupid plush).

By the third date you wanted him so badly that you felt like a bitch in heat. You started to think that maybe you were making a fool of yourself with how calm he seemed whenever you sneaked a touch or whispered a filthy promise. God you liked him so much, it was killing you that maybe he didn’t feel the same. You needn’t have worried as it turned out, date number 3 was when John MacTavish had completely ruined you in a way you had not expected.

–

“This was really nice” you said, a bit embarrassed if you were honest and avoiding his eyes after he walked you to your front door.

You had been a menace the whole evening. You had never been some sex kitten but fuck he just brought it out in you without even trying. He probably thought you were ridiculous now with how you had tried to be all sultry the whole way through dinner. Fuck, your hands had wandered something awful during the movie as well and you felt the humiliation from it burn from your ears to your toes. He didn’t want you the way you wanted him and you had pathetically thrown yourself at him. He probably couldn’t wait to lose your number.

“Open the door.”

Shit. He sounded almost angry. The first guy you had really liked in a long time, maybe ever, and you had totally blown it by being over eager. You shakily unlocked your door and blew out a breath, prepared to go inside and cry over a glass of wine. Instead you were grabbed by the waist and slammed against the door to close it behind you so fast it made your head spin.

John MacTavish’s tongue was down your throat and he had your wrists pinned above your head in a bruising vice grip. You had only just found the sense to kiss back when his lips were gone and instead his teeth were sinking into the delicate skin of your throat. The whine you made at that was all animal, as was his answering growl.

“Next time ye misbehave like that I’m going tae bend ye over the dinner table and fuck ye hard and proper in front of all those nice, fancy people.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You had never gotten so wet so fast in your life. The nice lace panties you had on under this dress were soaked right through. He bit off a curse and your legs nearly gave out when he suddenly let you go and backed right off, dragging a hand roughly through his hair.

“Fuck, sorry. Dinnae hate me, I wanted tae… our first time I mean, I had it all planned oot. Which makes me sound like a creepy, presumptuous bawbag. And now I’m being a fucking reprobate and pinning you tae the door without even asking first.”

Oh my God. You could not just fall in love with a man after 3 dates. And yet looking at his blown out eyes, how his body thrummed with barely contained lust for you and how he nearly vibrated with the effort of holding himself back because he wanted to treat you right… you had fallen in love with a man after 3 dates.

“I thought…” you said, your hand coming to rest on your flushed chest as you tried to find the words. “I mean at dinner and then at the movie, I um… well I wanted you to, you know. I thought maybe you didn’t want to? Which is fine obviously. I mean if you didn’t want to.”

The whiplash from going from lust to humiliation to lust and back to embarrassment was not something you were enjoying. You looked at him, he looked at you and after a few long moment the two of you burst into laughter. What a bloody pair you made. He came over and wrapped you in his arms, that wonderful scent that just gave you a feeling of contentment deep in your bones sinking into you.

“I want to. Was hard for the whole film, couldnae move that popcorn bucket or someone was getting an eye oot. Wanted tae spank ye red raw for all that teasing” he confessed into your hair, so sincere and blunt about it that you weren’t sure your pussy was likely to forgive you if you didn’t go out of your way to tease him next time.

“Wanted?”

He laughed, probably because you sounded somewhat like a petulant child, and leaned back, hands going to gently cup your face. Looking into his eyes felt like a gentle falling. Falling into a warm bed on a cold morning after a hot coffee, falling into the first fresh powdery snow of the year, falling in love with a man you hardly knew but felt so much like coming home.

“Was planning on asking ye tae come with me up North. Got a nice cabin in the Highlands that I usually rent oot since my Captain is always going on about having a backup plan. Want it tae be perfect.”

“You don’t have to go to all that trouble.”

Nobody ever had before. In your somewhat limited experience men wanted to get to fucking as soon as they could and while a few had made sure you came first, none had ever put much thought into getting you into bed in the first place. It just sort of happened. You would never have said you were insecure, but at that moment you felt the crushing weight of feeling that you didn’t deserve this man making such a grand gesture just to get inside you. You already wanted him. And there was no way he wasn’t experienced, how would you ever be good enough to warrant all the effort he was going to?

“Hey, look at me beautiful” he said quietly, thumbs rubbing soothingly across your cheekbones and coaxing your eyes back to his. “I really like you.”

Those four words ruined you entirely. John MacTavish put his heart out there with such simplicity that it stunned you. He could have thrown you on the bed and fucked you rough and savage and you’d have enjoyed it, but instead here he was butting his forehead lightly on yours in affection despite his evident arousal because he wanted more than that.

“I really like you too.”

Instead of fucking, he held you while you cried like a baby, overwhelmed by the care he took with you. He only made it worse when he whispered to you how you deserved to be treated with adoration. He called you beautiful, bonnie thing, mo leannan, winsome wee thing (that one made you laugh). He refused gently when you wanted to take care of him that night, instead laying you down softly on the pillows and lapping between your legs to bring you to slow orgasm after slow orgasm until you were boneless and sated, slurring your speech as he bundled you in his arms and you spoke about everything from your childhood pets to your great hopes and dreams until you drifted off into the best sleep of your life.

–

Your first time with him inside you was in that cabin like he had wanted and it had been the most perfect few days of your life. He had made sure you felt safe and comfortable, insisting you gave the location to your friends and going over maps of the area with you, pointing out where you’d need to go to get signal to check in with them. He bought ingredients for all of your favourite meals and stopped for a snack run on the way to boot. He showed you his test results but stressed that he was putting no pressure on you either way and if you did want to have sex he would have condoms if you preferred. And after all that he made it clear that you did not have to have sex with him if you didn’t feel like it. Johnny would be happy to just hold you for a weekend. As soon as you arrived he taught you how to use the sat phone if there was an emergency. The voice on the other end was gruff but soothing somehow, safe sounding (that at least was something that never changed about Simon, despite not liking the man, you always felt safe with him).

You were ready to explode by the time he finally laid you in bed. He stroked deep and slow inside of you, steady and solid and torturous. You understood then the difference between fucking and making love. It was the first time anyone had ever shown you the latter.

He then proceeded to show you the former in great detail on every surface inside the cabin and on quite a few outside. Your pussy was battered and your clit bruised in the most delicious ways. Your throat was raw from screaming and from being fucked. After a lifetime of swearing up and down it was never something you were interested in, you wound up practically begging for his cock in your ass because there was not one part of you that you did not want dripping with him. And of course he was only too happy to make sure you understood everything he would do to prep you by letting you do it to him first. You couldn’t fucking sit down for a full day after he had indeed spanked you red raw for the teasing you had done on that 3rd date.

A week later you met his family, the week after that his brothers in arms. And then he was gone and you were so worried about him that you constantly felt nauseous. It took years for you to be able to settle when he was deployed, to not spend the whole time imagining him not coming home to you. Because by that time that was what you had built together, a home.

You and Kyle became friends throughout the years. You really did like him, he was easy going and would laugh and let you bitch about Simon whenever you wanted. Captain Price came to feel like an older brother. He was there whenever you needed him, whether it be a car breakdown or because you were in a panic about a handsy coworker (poor guy had broken both hands in an accident the next weekend). And Simon? Well not too much changed there, you dealt with each other when you had to and were it not for your shared love of Johnny you suspected you’d have killed one another.

At least until Las Almas.

–

You didn’t know how you were going to tell Johnny. In fact, you probably wouldn’t. What good would it do? It had sorted itself out. That was how you tried to think about it. Food poisoning had made the pill ineffective for a day, you had gotten pregnant unplanned and unwanted and had lost the baby before you’d even started showing. It didn’t matter that while Johnny was somewhere being a hero you had heard a tiny heartbeat at the doctors. You told yourself over and over again that you didn’t want it anyway. You tried to think about how awful everything felt all the time. The morning sickness, the fatigue, the mood swings.

It was probably just the shock of it, waking up wet from the blood and thinking you were dying. If your first thought had been that you’d rather you die and the baby lived then you tried not to dwell on that. She would have had Johnny’s eyes. He would have wanted a mohawk so he could match his daddy. You forced an image of you telling Johnny and him being upset and not wanting a baby. It was useless. You knew that man. You loved that man. And that man would have gently made sure you wanted to keep it before bursting into happy tears and kissing you senseless.

You couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t break his heart the way the last few months had broken yours. Maybe it was selfish, to want to keep this pain for yourself when you knew beyond a doubt that he’d be desperate to share it, to take as much as he could from you and turn it to gentle comfort the way he always did when you were hurting. But you wanted to be selfish over this.

It was a whole new pain when you answered the door and Ghost was standing there. Your knees went from under you and you collapsed with the weight of why he would be at your door. Why would he be here without your Johnny? It was the first time Simon Riley caught you.

You never spoke about the way he held you gently and told you that Johnny was ok, he was alive but injured. He made you laugh through your tears and snot by telling you what a bad patient Johnny was being, how he was about ready to beat up every medic on base to get back to you because “I dinnae need fucking morphine I need tae eat my bird’s pussy”. His Scottish accent on that impersonation was truly dreadful.

Simon never thought he would find himself comforting you. He didn’t like you, he never had. Johnny had never been so serious about anyone and it drove him nuts that you made him so happy. Happiness like that was an easy thing to ruin and you could ruin it if you wanted, that scared the shit out of him. It was even scarier when Johnny had shown him the ring he was planning to offer you.

He never told Johnny how you had broke in his arms that night. How you had told him about the miscarriage in the dark, bled your pain all over him and let it sink into his skin. He had taken it gladly. In the light of the morning you went back to your dislike of one another, but something had changed in the dark.

–

You never did tell Johnny. You and Simon settled then on some sort of begrudging respect for one another. You still argued and bit at each other, but with the knowledge that now you would be part of one another's lives forever through Johnny given that only a few days after he came home he had slid a ring onto your finger.

Frankly you were fucking terrified when you came off of the pill. The only thing that got you through it was, unbelievably, Simon mumbling to you in the pub over a game of pool that you were going to be good parents. Of course Johnny had told him you were trying, but you found you didn’t really mind as you grumbled back an awkward thank you.

You could have strangled Johnny for having such strong fucking swimmers. You hadn't expected to get pregnant almost as soon as you were off birth control and it meant your wedding dress had to be altered to account for the small bump there. The bump he could not keep his hands off. Honestly the man was already insatiable, but fuck he loved you pregnant. He was already talking about more kids and you hadn’t even had the first one, he fucked you and groaned about wanting you pregnant all the time.

Your husband, something you thought you’d never get sick of saying, drove you mad once again in the late stages. You were hornier than ever and he was determined to treat you like you were made of glass all of a sudden. He certainly still gave you as many orgasms as you demanded, but gone was any rough and feral fucking. You loved making love with Johnny, but fuck if you didn’t miss the fucking.

You’d never tell Simon it had been your suggestion, not under pain of death. Neither of you had been attached to any name in particular, but you knew how much Johnny loved his Lieutenant. He was his best friend and they owed one another their lives several times over. There was a good chance that you owed him your life. Your husband had kissed you with so much love when you had asked if he’d like to call your son Joseph and after talking about it late into the night you had agreed that the little human inside you was your wee Joey.

A wee fucking bruiser is what he was, coming into the world kicking and screaming. Ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes. You joked that he must have screamed so loud he had damaged his own ears when he was referred to the audiology clinic after a second newborn hearing test. They stressed that you shouldn’t worry over it, but you hadn’t been anyway. Joseph was the strongest most wonderful thing you had ever seen, whatever came of it he had two parents who were going to make sure it never made his life anything less than a grand happy adventure.

Johnny had hated leaving him. Price had hated to ask it, had sent you enough flowers to start your own florist in apology. You understood though, your husband was off saving the world after all. Your heart was in your throat when he kissed Joey’s head and then kissed you soundly. Something felt off with him. The kiss felt different somehow, mournful. Maybe it was just a trick of your memory, hindsight tainting what you hadn’t known was the last time you would see your husband.

–

Simon Riley caught you a second time. John MacTavish was dead.

#mhairiwrites #cod #fanfic #soap x reader #ghost x reader #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x john mactavish #eventual happy ending #my guys I wrote this in one go this evening so have mercy on my soul #enjoy all the sprinklings of trauma in here that are surprise tools that will help us with angst later

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thebeesareback · 1 month

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I just finished the audio book for Donna Tartt's novel The Secret History, so naturally I had to have a lil scroll to see what everyone thought on Tumblr. To add to the discourse: (spoilers, obviously)

Also trigger warning: incest, abuse, murder, alcoholism

Why is Tumblr so in love with Henry Winter?! He murders the farmer, Bunny, and possibly tries to kill Charles. He's manipulative and may well try to make Richard take the fall (har har) for Bunny's death. In the garden scene, he admits to being a psychopath/sociopath. Oh, and he's unbelievably pretentious

Also, why are there so many cute pictures of the twins hanging out? Their relationship was strained, incestuous, co-dependent, abusive. The whole uwu thing baffles me

Richard has a very obvious foot fetish and nobody is talking about it

The novel is quite funny, and I wish more people picked up on that. Most of the humour comes from Francis - the pinz nez stays ON during sex; no, Bunny's parents weren't very upset when one of their grandchildren ruined Francis' scarf, they were preoccupied by their missing son; and there's a throwaway line where the art students eat sushi with paintbrushes instead of chopsticks. I also liked when the twins panicked after Bunny's murder and decided to start repotting tulips

The farmer is referred to by name twice. Once in a newspaper, once by Bunny. Strange to think that he's the person in the squad who might actually have a conscience. Incidentally, Milo, the golden retriever who finds Bunny's body, has his name mentioned more frequently.

Richard is a smelly, badly dressed misanthrope. As is Henry, and Charles towards the end. Francis, Camilla and Hampden itself provide the (admittedly gorgeous) dark academia aesthetic, but if you want to end that dream, remember how terrible everything would have smelled. I guess the difference between appearance and reality is a pretty big theme

Julian is very creepy, obviously, but I was surprised that he wasn't more involved in the plot. He seems like exactly the sort of person to start a cult. I'd also like to know if he and Henry were in a sexual relationship, because we see them kiss once and then it's never mentioned again

Foreshadowing is done EXCELLENTLY through the book. There were a few characters who were described as ghostly at the start, and I THINK they're the ones who survive. Also, Tartt loves her pathetic fallacy (not phallusy).

Time is very strange. If you bothered to plot out all of the events, I don't think it quite makes sense. Term starts in September, say Richard joins Julian's classes in early October? That means all the picnics, the Sunday walks with Bunny, the trips to Francis' house, all happen over about five weeks, leading to the 12th November when Charles, Henry and Francis kill the farmer. Unreliable narrator, I guess

A lot of things about Richard's character make more sense when you realise the abuse he grew up experiencing and witnessing. Poor Ms Papen. Odd that Richard's parents don't visit him when he's in hospital

Funny that everyone is surprised when the twins' incest comes out. Like, they had an orgy at the start of the baccanal. Call me a prude, but I wouldn't attend an orgy with a family member

I would go for girls' night with Judy Poovey

Also, the book was published in 1992. Does anyone know when Prince Charles and Camila Parker Bowles went public with their relationship? Seems like an unbelievable coincidence otherwise

If anyone has an actual criteria for identifying alcohol abuse/alcoholism, please lmk if any of the main six characters AREN'T alcoholics. I'm pretty sure I got liver cirrhosis and lung cancer just from reading this book

#donna tartt #the secret history #richard papen #henry winter #charles macaulay #camila macaulay #francis abernathy #julian morrow #dark literature #dark academia #the macaulay twins

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pitchsidestories · 7 months

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Loving her is red (Referee's Version) II Lauren Hemp x Reader

mancity women masterlist I word count: 1718

After the draw against Chelsea most of the Manchester City teammates decided to go to their favourite bar and get a little drunk. Especially the two English players who got a red card in the game were on their best way to be a bit more than slightly drunk. The last one who joined them was Leila Ouahabi who got two yellow cards in their first WSL game this season in London, playing against Westham. Slightly worried she looked at the younger forward:” Hempito, how many shots did you already have?” Afterwards she waved at her other teammates with a bright smile on her face: Hola chicas!”

With a teasing smile on her lips Alex explained to the Spanish defender:“ Lauren’s trying to get to 81 because that’s the minute she got her red card.” “Don’t remind me of that, Al!”, the younger blonde whined. The Manchester City captain kept joking:“ I only have to get to 38 shots at least.” “You’re not serious, chicas! That’s loco!” “No shit, Leila. They’re obviously not.”, Chloe Kelly interjected giggling. Red faced Leila apologized: “Sorry, I don’t always get your British sense of humour.” “You’ll get used to it.”, Laura Coombs reassured her with a soft smile. Confidently Ellie Roebuck nodded, while hugging the brunette from behind: “Definitely.”

Meanwhile Alex handed her a couple of full glasses: “Here, those drinks are for you. For getting a red last week.” “Gracias.”, the dark-haired woman mumbled. A bright grin appeared on the blonde’s face: “De nada.”

“Drink!”, Lauren shouted into the Spanish defender’s ear. A loud laugh escaped her mouth before starting to taste her first drink of the night:“Okay, alright.” “Good!”, the younger forward replied, clearly satisfied. Her reaction made Leila laugh even harder:” She gets bossy when she drinks.” “Drink your drink.”

“Hempo. Leave her alone.”, Alex rolled her eyes as she cut through that conversation. “Fine.”, Lauren sighed. To the brunette their skipper said:” Don’t worry, it’s just the red card.” “Is it? Where’s Hempitos girlfriend?”, Leila asked empathetically, instinctively feeling that Lauren could need her love right now after such an awful match with a terrible result for her.

With a sympathetic smile Chloe answered: “Working.” “Still?”, Leila glanced surprised at her teammates. “She called after the game to talk to Hempo and we said we’d go out for a few drinks first.”, Laura added. “Oh okay.” Smiling the older woman tried to put her at ease: “She’ll pick her up later.”

Alex addressed the round of football players excitedly; “More drinks anyone?“ “Yes!“, Lauren nodded violently. “And apart from Hempo?“, the blonde defender laughed. “Me too.“, Filippa Angeldal joined in, while Ellie yelled; “Esme and me too!“ Esme Morgan sat next to their goalkeeper with reddened cheeks; “Exactly.“

While Alex ordered them more drinks, Chloes face darkened; “Guys?“ Khiara Keating, the youngest the group, looked up from her phone; “Huh?“ “Where’s Hempo? Her seat’s empty. Did anyone see her leave?“, the striker asked with her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. Esme turned around in her seat, looking for her team mate; “Lauren? Where are you?“ Leila did the same on the other side of their table, even getting up from her chair; “Hempito?“

As a slight nervousness spread among the football players, Lauren jumped out from under the table with a loud; “Boo!“ The mischievous smile on her face let everyone know that she was incredibly proud of herself. “Don’t scare us like that!“, Alanna Kennedy scolded her, but still shook her head in amusement. Lauren could barely contain her laughter; “You should have seen your faces!“ Annoyed, Chloe rolled her eyes; “That was not funny!“ “Yes, it was.“, Lauren kept giggling.

Several drinks later, Ellie took one look at Lauren slumped down in her chair and announced; “I think it’s time for Hempo to leave.“ Outraged she immediately sat up; “What do you mean?!“ “I’m calling her girlfriend.“, Alex decided. With glassy eyes, Lauren pleaded; “Oh come on. Don’t be boring.“ But she was slurring her words enough to make even Alex who had her fair share of drinks shake her head.

You were only mildly surprise when your girlfriends teammate called. You knew you were supposed to pick Lauren up but you were expecting her to call you herself. “Alex?“ “Hey. I think your girlfriend had enough. Will you come pick her up?“, she explained more loudly than necessary. “Yes, of course. I’ll be there soon.“, you nodded and ended the call. You just came home from work, so you were still in your shoes and jacket. All that was left to do was grab the keys and walk over to the bar.

Luckily the way was not that far, and it did not take you too long to find the celebrating football players in the room. “Hi girls. Come on time to leave Lauren.”, you chirmed. Happy about the fact that the women did not seem to be that sad about the loss anymore. Determined your girlfriend shook her head:”Nooo.” “Do you need help with her?”, Ellie offered in a friendly tone. Politely you replied: “No, I think we’ll be fine.” “Wait.”, Laura interjected, a warm smile on her lips. “What?”, you looked confused at her. Slightly out of breath Chloe explained: “Here. Coombsy made me run across the street to the chip shop to bring you some food you can eat at home.” “Oh, thank you, Chloe. This is really thoughtful of you.”, you told them moved by their gesture.

Smirking Leila observed: “She will need it.” “I think so too.”, you admitted while making sure that Lauren was ready to go and did not left any of her belongings at the bar. Quickly Laura hugged you and her younger teammate who got red carded earlier: “Good night, you two.” “Night, everyone.”, you waved at them.

Amused Chloe shouted: “Good luck getting her home.” “Thanks, I’ll need it.”, you answered laughing before turning to your girlfriend, let’s go love.” “Ugh fine.”, Lauren groaned, obviously not too excited about being one of the earliest to leave the team party.

After some fresh air on the way to your appartement you mumbled relieved:” We’re home.” “Finally. Can’t wait for my bed.”, the blonde yawned. Suddenly she felt the tension which the forward felt all day escaping her body as she was taking the first step into your appartement.

Her physical reaction did not go unnoticed by you:” That game has been a lot, right? Sorry, I couldn’t be there because of work.” “I know that. Actually.. I’m glad you didn’t come. The game was just overall shit.”, Lauren confessed. Still, you felt a little guilty for not coming to the football match: “I could’ve been there for you.”

As you two had been childhood sweethearts long before you had a name for what you two felt for eachother you tried to come to every home game your girlfriend had, and it did not matter the weather. But as you two became young adults sometimes work forbid the tradition you held dearly.

“No, you couldn’t. I was on the pitch.”, the forward reminded you softly. A sad smile appeared on your face as you kissed her forehead: “You’re right but I can be here for you now.” “It’s cool. Really. Proud of the girls for taking the point home. We could’ve lost 0:5.”, the blond muttered.

“Your team is really incredible.“, you nodded, thinking not only of the game but also of the familiar atmosphere at the bar a few minutes ago. Lauren let herself fall back onto your bed while kicking her shoes off; “They are. I love them.“ “I can tell.“, you replied slightly moved and changed into your Pyjamas.

Your girlfriend watched you from the bed; “Do you know what else I like?“ “Our bed?“, you laughed. Lauren smiled back at you; “That too!“ “And you?“, you prompted her to go on. „Bananas!“, she finally revealed happily. Surprised you paused and raised an eyebrow; “Are you hungry? I could get you one.“ “No, we still have the food the others gave us.“, she reminded you and then seemed to remember what she actually wanted to say; “Did you know that there are over 1.000 types of bananas?“ “Uhm, no. But that’s really interesting.“, you answered politely as you slipped into bed with her.

Excitedly, Lauren nodded; “I know, right?“ “What made you think of bananas?“ Your girlfriend snorted; “They’re yellow. Like the cards I’ve gotten. Doesn’t make sense that yellow plus yellow makes red.“ “No, it does not.“, you agreed, feeling sad for her because that topic was still so present in her mind. “I mean why red? That’s so aggressive.“, she kept going. Carefully, you put a hand in her hair; “You can’t stop thinking about it, huh?“ “No.“, she admitted. Her eyes were wet again and her lower lip trembled.

“Come here.“ You pulled her towards you, gently stroking her face. Laurens tears never came. She just swallowed hard; “It’s stupid, I know. We all know the ref made a lot of bad decisions today. But it still feels like I did something bad.“ “You did nothing wrong, love.“, you assured her. “I still won’t get to play the next few games.“ “I know…“ Sighing, Lauren sat up again; “I want some chips. You too?“ “Yes.“ She got out of bed to go into the kitchen where you put down the food. With the paper bag in hand, your girlfriend wanted to know: “Can we eat in bed?“ “Sure.“ Lauren cozied back up in bed with you and you two ate in silence.

The greasy food seemed to help with the alcohol. “Do you feel better?“, you wanted to know from your girlfriend. Shoving more chips into her mouth, she nodded; “Yes. They’re so good.“ “Agreed.“ “I guess I just needed some food.“, Lauren shrugged, grinning. You quietly laughed; “Seems like it.“ “So good.“, your girlfriend mumbled before laying down and closing your eyes.

You gently cleared the bed from the trash, pulled the blanket over Laurens body and kissed her forehead; “Sleep well, Lauren.“ It was quiet for a while when the football player suddenly said; “Hey?“ “Hm?“, you answered, now sleepy yourself. “Love you.“ A smile appeared on your face because your girlfriend finally sounded content; “I love you too.“

Sorry this is not our best work but we hope you still enjoy this one. 🩵

#lauren hemp #lauren hemp x reader #woso x reader #woso #man city wfc #engwnt #lionesses #woso oneshot #woso fanfics #woso imagine #man city women #engwnt x reader #england women

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a-random-whovian7 · 10 months

Text

What your favourite Doctor says about you (just like the Master and Companion lists, this is all just jokes and my own terrible takes, absolutely no offence intended towards anyone). This is gonna be a long one, so good luck:

One (I think):

Is somehow able to sit through The Keys of Marinus whilst completely sober. Their feelings on Twice Upon a Time completely depend on whether they are able to accept that TV shows made in the 1960s will inevitably have some outdated bits or not. Loves slow-burners and less science-heavy stories, and wishes the Doctor would go back to trolling his companions again. Prays every night for The Celestial Toymaker and Marco Polo to be found. Hates the Timeless Child with a burning passion.

Two:

Two fans deserve a lot better. Despite a large chunk of their era being limited to surviving audio, PowerPoint presentations telesnaps and the, er, mixed bag of animated reconstructions, they still contribute a lot to the discussion of Classic Who and are usually well versed in the lore of the EU. 2nd Doctor fans are remarkable, as they are able to get along with pretty much every other group of fans. However, there is plenty of infighting thanks to the UNIT dating controversy and which story should be reconstructed next. If they ship Two/Jamie, they have fully earned your love and are surprisingly good if you pass them the aux.

Three:

Pretty much blows a gasket whenever some idiot says that the modern era is 'too political'. Like, I'm sorry, but was the "England for the English" scene in the Claws of Axos a little too subtle for you? Were Malcolm Hulke's scripts absolutely apolitical in your eyes? Does the mere existence of The Green Death mean nothing to you?! Oh, well maybe you should try WATCHING THE SHOW and DOING YOUR RESEARCH before you start claiming that it's become 'tOo pOLiTiCaL' because the main characters aren't always played by Whiteguy McStraight now, shouldn't you?! YOU AND YOUR MEDIOCRE OPINION SHALL COWER BEFORE MY KNOWLEDGE OF THE THIRD DOCTOR'S ERA AND THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO TO STOP ME!

It is for this very reason that 3rd Doctor fans get along particularly well with 13th Doctor fans. Perfectly nice people with a great sense of humour and an excellent taste in episodes, unless a conversation resembling the above occurs, at which point you will see how much damage the repressed urge to do Venusian Akido can do. Refuses to admit that The Ambassadors of Death is two episodes too long.

Four:

Either a child of the 70s or chaos incarnate. Yes, 4 is pretty much the universally recognised Doctor, but that doesn't stop him from being one of the most unhinged Doctors. Loves more gothic horror-themed episodes and can ignore the somewhat questionable production qualities of early Baker stories. They have almost certainly attempted to make The Scarf at one point; whether they were successful or not entirely depends on their talent for knitting. Is surprisingly ok with admitting that Tom Baker stayed for a little too long and that his later seasons were a little underwhelming. Hasn't stopped them from watching every version of Shada though.

Five:

The tired parental figure of any group they are in. They immediately related to this Doctor when they saw 5 trying to hold it together whilst his multiple adopted humans argued, whined and got themselves trapped on doomed freighter ships. Has tried to play cricket once, but a general confusion over the rules and a few broken windows stopped that. You can take care of the cinnamon roll that is the standard 5 fan by providing them with cups of tea, giving them lots of hugs and removing all copies of Time Flight from your house.

Six:

Best fashion sense out of all the fans... somehow. Their favourite episodes are usually Vengeance on Varos or Revelation of the Daleks (both bangers), although they lean more heavily towards EU and Big Finish material, where the stories are more consistent and the costumes are less yikes. Either the best or worst fan to be around, either giving fair balanced views on the show or just being an absolute arse. Loves cats. Hates Michael Grade. Kind of ambivalent towards Mel.

Seven:

If 2nd Doctor fans are well versed in the EU lore, then these individuals are fucking academics. Constantly annoyed that 7 had two of the best seasons of Classic Who and was the darkest Doctor but is only remembered for Time and the Rani for some reason. Their favourite companion will always be Ace, which is what motivated them to watch Power of the Doctor. Usually excellent taste in stories, but is completely capable of dragging you to the depths of the EU. Wishes the Doctor would commit a few more genocides. Their religious beliefs can be summarised in the phrase "Cartmel Master Plan". Still annoyed that the most strategic Doctor was killed by the two most American things (guns and bad healthcare), but gets along well with 8 fans despite that. Somehow understands Ghost Light after just 3 rewatches.

Eight:

Big Finish fan. Basically willing to explain the entire plot of Dark Eyes if you ask them. Thinks the TV Movie is just OK, and has rewatched Night of the Doctor too many times to count. Loves a sad boy, and has definitely referred to 8 as a "poor little meow meow" at some point. Wishes 8's TARDIS interior was still intact and that he'll get his own live action series. Had an actual heart attack when he appeared in Power of the Doctor. Usually a bisexual from my personal experience, and looking at Paul McGann in the 90s, I can see why.

War (or is it Nine?):

We're stepping into the depths of the Moffat cult with this one. Wants a more traumatised Doctor, and kind of wishes we saw more of the Time War beyond the laser battle in Day of the Doctor. Content to sit back and watch due to the fact that the War Doctor had the perfect arc in his one episode, although they are happy that the War Doctor still pops up in the EU. Bridging the gap between the modern and classic series means they get along well with everyone except Shalka fans.

Nine (the Curse of Fatal Death one):

Does this one count? Just loves the classic series. Still praying for Joanna Lumley as the Doctor. Nowhere near as obnoxious as the Shalka fans and surprisingly funny.

Nine (the Scream of the Shalka one):

They pride themselves on being 'against the trend' and being fans of an overlooked bit of Doctor Who history. Doesn't quite realise that Scream of the Shalka was basically an B-tier Big Finish story with janky animation. Wants Richard E Grant to show up again. Constantly attempting to upset Eccleston and Hurt fans, only to get angry when everyone forgets Scream of the Shalka existed. They definitely listen to Weezer.

Ten, no, another Nine (the Eccleston one):

The word "fantastic" is permanently superglued to their vocabulary, and yet it never gets old. Owns a leather jacket too. Wishes that the BBC hadn't been stupid and Eccleston had stayed on for another series, but doesn't hold it against Tennant. Knows the Daleks were at their best in S1. Really wants the Reapers to return, and was utterly distraught after Chibs kind of ruined 9's role in the wider arc by blowing up Gallifrey again. Major nostalgia for the 2000s with this one, and is slowly becoming a member of the Big Finish cult thanks to Eccleston's return. Understandably forgot Adam was a thing. Both loves and hates John Barrowman.

Ten? Eleven? Ten and a half? The Tennant one. I hate numbers:

Their first experience to Doctor Who was during the golden age- wait, no, sorry, the RTD cult has threatened to terminate my membership if I'm not honest with this one.

Either a child of the 2000s, a member of the aforementioned RTD cult or someone who just likes the show to be more emotionally resonant. Well, that or they are the blandest person alive. If they acknowledge how good 10's arc was in terms of deconstructing the Doctor and setting up his fall from grace via misplaced attachments and vanity, then absolutely someone to be around. If they simply say "because he was popular", definitely bland. We all know Tennant was popular, it's still not one of the many valid reasons to love him. They have an easygoing relationship with 4 and 11 fans, and otherwise OK relations with the rest of Doctors fan groups, although there is a bit of friction between 13 stans due to 10 being dragged into a lot of 13's media post-2020 to boost ratings. They didn't like it because it cheapned 10's return and era whilst also overshadowing 13. 13 stans didn't like it because it basically gave the message that the BBC had given up on 13 before her era had finished.

Definitely excited for the 60th after the regeneration and the announcement of RTD's return. Has tried owning a pair of converses, only to find out that they aren't exactly cheap. Has fought for the Ten/Rose ship on multiple occasions. Tried hair gel once, with disastrous consequences.

Huh. This one was incredibly easy to write. All I had to do was look in a mirror.

Thirte- no, Eleven:

Major ADHD energy in the best possible way. Saw the chaotic excitable Doctor and immediately fell in love. They will not rest until they have forced every former Doctor to read the "Hello Stonehenge" speech. They have also cosplayed the most out of any fan, due to the availability of fezzes and bow ties. Definitely the most fun to be around at a party. Was disappointed by Matt Smith's decision not to return for the 60th, especially after the absolute banger that was Day of the Doctor. If they ship 11 with River, they're cool, even though 11 was very asexual in S5. If they ship him with anyone else, then yikes. Wishes for the show to return to a quirky fairytale tone again.

If they were present during the SuperWhoLock days, keep an eye on them. You're only one drink away from dragging us back to 2013, and I ain't reading any of that fanfiction again *shudders*.

Fourte- FUCK, Twelve:

A certified member of the Steven Moffat cult, or just someone who likes some of their stories to have a slightly more mature tone. Has tried to play the electric guitar more than once, only to be forced to stop by their partners or housemates. Either willing to admit some of the flaws of the era or strongly defends it, with no inbetween. Absolutely correct in their assertion that S9 and 10 absolutely slapped, although this cam be undermined if they try to defend Sleep No More. If they ship River and 12, then you can trust them with anything, and they will offer you good relationship advice. If they ship 12 and Clara in a romantic way (which is strange to me cos i always got platonic BFF vibes from them, but that's just me), they definitely have relationship advice, although waiting 4 billion years to get your memory wiped is a questionable means of resolving conflict. They have a pair of the sonic sunglasses. Cried when Capaldis majestic floofy hair got shaved off for a superhero film.

Thirteen? That's right? Phew, finally getting the hang of this. Ok, Thirteen:

There are two types of 13 fan. The first is cinnamoniest of rolls. Is just happy to sit back and have fun, thus allowing them to enjoy pretty much any episode (something that a lot of people could learn from). Immediately realised that Jodie is an amazing Doctor and deserves more praise and justice. Definitely shipped Thasmin, and are the best at constructive criticism, recognising what worked and didn't in a respectful, polite way (again, something we could all learn from). Wierdly enough, they get along well with all the Doctor fans, as they are a wholesome ray of sunshine that reminds us that every era has something to offer, no matter the general consensus.

The second type masquerades as the first, but gets all hipster-y and more than willing to use the term 'overrated' when RTD or Tennant are mentioned (so basically a healthy 80% of the #antiRTD tag).

Both are convinced that the Chibnall Era will receive a massive reappraisal like the 12th Doctor's era did, despite the odds of that happening being the same as an on-screen Thasmin kiss. I'm so sorry, that's a really mean line to end this bit on. Let's instead end by saying Haunting of Villa Diodati is an absolute banger of an episode.

Ruth:

Loves the admittedly cool concept of a mystery incarnation. The rest depends on their theory of where the Ruth Doctor fits in. If they use the season 6B theory, then they have an encyclopedic knowledge of the classical series and the EU regardless of whether they have watched it or not. If they use the Timeless Child/Division theory, then they basically settled for the easier version of 6B after looking into the insane asylum that is classic who and EU discourse (wise choice). If they think she's from an alternative universe, thinks that she's Omega, Rassilon, The Rani, The Master or any other figure, then they practically have a gold medal in Mental Gymnastics. Either way, all of them don't like to admit that they are unfortunately limited to 4 episodes (three of them being fairly mid, the other being a mild car crash) and a pretty good comic. Cool fashion taste. Gets along with 13 stans and, surprisingly, 2nd Doctor fans.

Fourteen- oh for fucks sake:

YOU ARE TENTH DOCTOR FANS. GO BACK TO EARLIER ON IN THE POST. YES, I KNOW THAT'S THE BBC'S OFFICIAL LINE AT THE MOMENT. YES, I KNOW YOU'RE HYPED FOR THE 60TH, I AM A HYPED RTD CULTIST TOO. JUST WAIT UNTIL SEPTEMBER. P L E A S E.

Fourt- no fifteen- no, fourteen- BBC, HAVE MERCY:

Only in the Doctor Who fandom can a Doctor who has only appeared in a brief clip and some photos have a fully developed fanbase. I should know, I've already joined it. Ncuti's photos in that suit sealed the deal. Either an RTD cultist or someone just looking forward to a fresh new direction. Also very fashionable. Has a somewhat complicated relationship with 13th Doctor fans due to the fact that Ncuti's first season and casting completely overshadowed S13 and the specials, but Ncuti also had to deal with the same levels of toxicity from the same 'fans' who threw temper tantrums at Jodie's casting in 2017. Best haircuts out of all the Doctor Who fans. Strange but true.

Full Fathom Five:

Y'all scare me.

Zagreus:

Y'all terrify me.

The Watcher:

Y'all confuse me.

The Valeyard:

Has wanted a darker series since god knows when. Was kind of annoyed when the Time Lord Victorious arc wasn't dedicated to a whole series. Also, the Valeyard is the Shadow the Hedgehog of the Whoniverse. I refuse to elaborate any further.

The Curator:

"Alright gang, let's see who the Curator fans really are!"

Pulls off mask

"Fourth Doctor fans?!"

All jokes aside, they just want a more experienced Doctor. Accepts that the show will have to end one day, and is cool with that, since they already have the perfect ending. Either cool grandad vibes or an actual grandad. Good knitwear. Their response to everything is simply putting the kettle on.

Doctor Moon:

Now these ones are very, very rare. I personally love the theory that Doctor Moon is a future version of the Doctor who is keeping River and the Library safe, but limiting your favourite Doctor to two episodes and an endorsement of the theory from Steven Moffat? Now that takes guts, and I like it. Usually partial to classy clothes, and talks in a very formal tone. Their best subject is usually maths.

Dr Who (Peter Cushing):

Unashamedly insane. Saw the absolutely glorious cheese-fest that was the 1960s Dalek movies and ended up loving one of the most unique versions of the Doctor. Is absolutely fine with bypassing 90% of the TV shows lore, making them really fun to talk to. Time Lords? Nah. Sonic screwdriver? Nope. Their Doctor is a wacky grandpa who built a multi-dimensional time machine in their back garden, and they love it. Is a sucker for Alternate Universe stories and usually loves classic B-movies. Knows that the movies kind of suck as adaptations, but as pure 1960s camp, they are unbeatable. Absolute legends.

All of Them:

The glue that holds this fanbase together. Enlightened individuals who have to check in every now and then to make sure that we mere mortals are behaving ourselves. They just simply enjoy the show and hold no biases. Absolutely infuriating to talk to for that very reason.

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captain039 · 9 months

Text

PART 5 Stains of red

Astarion x omega!reader

Warnings: Vampire things, blood, light gore, witch things, fantasy things, swearing, age gap, heats, smut, shameless flirting, virgin reader, indulging in pleasure xD, pining, jealousy

Previous part <-

Astarion didn’t visit the next few days and you avoided seeing anyone. You needed supplies, but didn’t find the energy to do anything. Pax was always with you except for night time, worried caws and gently pecks. You’d pet his head from time to time enjoying the soft black feathery feel. You jolted awake to a knock and frowned seeing the sun still up, you must’ve fallen asleep. You opened the door seeing a stranger, a traveller.

“Sorry my lady, I’m terrible lost” the alpha said.

“Oh course, just follow this path, you’ll get to the village” you said pointing to the path going to the forest.

“Thank you my lady” he nodded his head and flashed you a brilliant smile.

“My names Ivis” he said holding his hand out. You went to shake it, but instead he kissed the back of your hand making flush slightly and say your name.

“Beautiful name, May I ask why’re you out here by yourself?” He asked and sighed thinking, another alpha who can’t see an omega surviving by herself.

“I’m the village witch I suppose” you shrugged.

“Oh how wonderful!” He said and you frowned, not the usual reaction.

“Perhaps you could help me” he flushed embarrassed.

“I’ve got this problem, on my back it itches like hell, I think I bathed in something bad in a river” he grimaced.

“Oh of course come in” you said stepping out the way so he could step in. He set down his backpack outside and headed in. You caught more of his scent, something infecting him, but a nice spice to him.

“Just in that room on the chair” you pointed and he nodded going to it and sitting down. He took off his jacket and you saw tattoos down his arms, strange swirls and patterns. He shrugged off his shirt, he was all muscle, probably from travelling a lot, his tattoos going up and circling in and end on his shoulders. You winced though seeing the angry red rash on his back, yellow infection seeping from where he scratched.

“Oh boy” you muttered going to moosh up some ingredients.

“Bad right?” He laughed.

“I’m sorry” you quickly said and he chuckled.

“It’s alright I know it’s bad, it feels bad” he said and you smiled. He was carefree in a sense, good humour.

“This may sting and be cold” you said and he nodded bracing himself making you smile. This big alpha probably swam in a gross swamp, thinking nothing of it and got this rash and ignored it for weeks. He hissed slightly when you applied the salve and you apologised. Though you could heal it with magic instantly, you felt he was more into the medical approach.

“I should’ve said I can heal this with magic” you said softly and he shook his head.

“I don’t mind, magic is hard, draining on the body, wouldn’t want you to waste your beautiful energy on me” he said and your heart jumped a bit.

“Besides magics quick, I can talk to you this way and come back” you could hear his grin and couldn’t help but, chuckle.

“There” you finished up gently placing a cool towel over it and he groaned.

“Oh that’s much better” he said and you chuckled.

“Gods this good” he added and you laughed shaking your head as you sat across the table from him.

“How long have you been out here?” He asked soft brown eyes looking to you.

“My whole life, my parents died when I was young, Asta-“ you stopped, Astarion had traveled a bit, you didn’t know who he had bad blood with.

“I’m sorry” he said sadly.

“My parents died too, not that young, when I was twenty. Headed on a ship and never came back” he sighed.

“I don’t know if they died though, I assume so” he shrugged lightly.

“Then I just started travelling” he shrugged.

“Who took care of you though?” He asked head slightly tilted.

“The villages aided me, funny really they all chipped in to raise me” you lied with a chuckle, hell the villages were not allowed near you, Astarion was territorial. Talking with Ivis was calming and nice, he was easy to talk too and a good laugh. By the time you knew it, it was night time.

“Gods its night already, I best leave you” he said and you stood checking his back, all the liquid from the had soaked in, leaving dry leaves and flowers.

“I’ll wipe this off first” you said wiping the remnants off. His back was less red and angry now.

“It feels much better than you” he said putting his shirt on gently.

“Of course, you may want another layer tomorrow, I can make you some” you said going to your bench.

“No, no it’s ok, I’d like to come back” he said and you turned to him slightly shocked.

“Oh, yeah of course” you said cheeks hot.

“Thank you again Y/n” he said and you nodded avoiding his eyes.

“You’ll want to see Lily at Lilys garden, she has the best hot meals and then head over to Haira at sleep and dreams for lodging” you recommended leading him to the door.

“Thank you very much” he smiled and you smiled back, he looked even better in the moonlight.

“Try to avoid sleeping on your back tonight” you added.

“Yes ma’am” he chuckled and you smiled shaking your head.

“Have a goodnight” you said as he waved and left.

“Goodnight” he called. You smiled, but frowned slightly at the overly glowing red eyes staring at you through the forest.

Next part ->

#Astarion #bg3 #Astarion x reader #x reader #aob #vampires

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nxathyx · 8 months

Text

"oh, that's my cousin"

Gn! Reader x Dazai Osamu, Gn! Reader x Chuuya Nakahara, Gn! Reader x Fyodor Dostoyevski, Gn! Reader x Nikolai Gogol, Gn! Reader x Sigma I legit should've stopped writing this after Chuuya and Dazai💀

Hi hello so I thought it'd be fun to write about a reader who has a really good friendship with their cousin (cause I have to good relationship with my one and I like throwing insults around)

So um here's a few examples of how readers relationship with their cousin looks (through texts, yes these are all my chats with my cousin on messenger)

something like this :)

C/n - cousin name

Tws: swearing, insulting, family dramas😻😻 my lack of motivation and my terrible sense of humour (I feel bad for you if you end up enjoying this one..)

Dazai Osamu

°Bro he lives for your and your cousins energy like holy fuck

°if he ever meets your cousin he'd definetly get along with them like oml

°loves reading your banters or listening to it

°if y'all beat each other up he'll purposefully cheer her on and not you (rude ass bitch)

° once you were texting your cousin like "bestie, I think he's a green flag"

"bitch that is redder than the colour red itself what are you on💀💀"

°has definetly texted your cousin before

°they're great friends, but at first your cousin was really skeptical

°if you, your cousin and Dazai were to work at the agency

° rip Kunikida holy shit

° THE FAMILY DRAMA YOU TELL HIM

°he's in heaven (probably hell but yk)

° put your cousin on speaker when you'll gossiping and he's sat there with his wine just like 🤭😮😃

Anyways let's move onto how he found out about this bond of yours

You informed your boyfriend you were going to go take a bath, walking into the bathroom with a fresh pijama, your undergarments and a towel. You took your time in the bath just relaxing, cleaning your body, washing your hair, maybe doing a little spa day for yourself. Whatever it is you were doing, however while you were having the time of your life, Dazai was reading a book, until he got rudely interrupted by your phone ringing.. "failed abortion" (or whatever you have your cousins name written down as) 'what the fuck..' he didn't pick up, just ignored it before texts kept popping up "BESTIE PICK THE FUCK UP YOU STUPID FUCKING BITCH DONT DO THIS TO ME RIGHT NOW YOU WHORE" huh... 'well that's not too pleasant' he thought in a sarcastic mindset, giggling slightly as the messages kept flooding your phone. Soon enough Dazai had the fantastic idea of texting back "ayo y/ns bathing right now" "idgaf tell that cunt to hurry her ass up cause i got some tea" he chuckled slightly, being quite curious what was so urgent, before knocking on the bathroom door.

"hey, dear. Someone called failed abortion keeps calling and texting you" although you couldn't see his face you just knew he had that stupid grin on his face, however given your curious nature, you cut your shower short.

Shortly after you were in your pyjamas, laying in bed with your back against the pillows as Dazai layed his face on your stomach, as his eyes were looking up at you with what almost seemed like a gleam, it was undeniable how much he loved you and how attracted to you he was, his fingers were gently running shapes and letters on your clothed skin, as you were typing profusely whilst giggling.

"hm? What's so funny?"

"just some family drama, nothing really important"

"so this failed abortion is a family member?"

You zoned out slightly whilst texting, before replying a few seconds later.

"yeah, sorry I zoned out"

"and who might this be, Donna?"

"That's my cousin"

He chuckled slightly before nodding a bit and sighing contently as he tried to bury his face into you tummy even more.

"you have quite the interesting dynamic with them"

"yeah, I guess so"

"im glad you keep in contact with at least someone in your family" he said with a light smile, before closing his eyes and just enjoying your giggles and the way your fingers and nails were hitting against the phone screen, already predicting how butchered the English is by your fast typing smiling a bit more at the times he just saw you communicating through texts with "ZDUHEZJHENHZ" "whst?" and other words that were completely written incorrectly.

Chuuya Nakahara

° Bro is confused

° if your cousins contact name is "failed abortion" or "mistake" or just something similar he legit thought you had a child for a second

"so uh.. Honey? Mind explaining when you had a failed abortion?"

°once he finds out its just your cousin he'd feel stupid (comfort him besties pls he needs it)

°he's so fucking tired and then out of nowhere this random ass bitch is calling you, spamming you with voice messages, photos, videos and piling up missed video calls and voice calls like bros about to destroy that fucking phone

°legit thought you were getting sent actual threats by how many insults he saw

°this fucker tried so hard to impress your cousin so they'll like him (he really wants your family to be fond of him)

°and then he just listens to you two gossiping being like 😰

"The fuck is wrong with this family😭😭"

°man's started stealing the Insults from you and your cousin

°if they get close and your cousin is younger y'all end up being like parents

"mama i papa" (idfk how that tiktok sound went)

°if you're also protective of your cousin he finds that so admirable and attractive like holy shit "hey mamas😍😍" (kms)

First meeting went interestingly.

You were sat next to Chuuya, and your cousin was sat on the opposite side of the table, at first it was awkward, no one really wanted to speak, until you started telling Chuuya something that your aunt used to do, when you and your cousin were younger, earning an appropriate reaction from him to the information you just shared, and that soon developed into you and your cousin just talking shit about your entire family to him (especially their younger sibling or your other cousin)

(Bro was flabbergasted)

"she actually used to do that..?"

Earning a small nod from you and your cousin as well as a few giggles that were muffled by your hands covering your mouths

Whenever you and your cousin were just calling each other the most gut wrenching names he was so confused, slightly amazed, intrigued and worried as hell, but more than anything he was glad you had such a close bond with someone that you two could've just insulted the fuck out of each other without getting mad or petty about it

Fyodor Dostoyevski

°Bro is just like "okay..? That's.. Yeah okay"

°like he doesn't know what to say

°takes inspo from the Insults and threats

°he legit just doesn't give a shit I'm gonna be honest

°"so just another weirdo? Alright"

°if he ever meets your cousin. tell him to wash that damn lice nest.

°please scrub his hair clean (make the shampoo go in his eyes)

°make him use deoderant for once in his fucking life

I want to write how the meeting will go but I doubt he'd go out and meet them, like I'm sorry

Nikolai Gogol

°this man is so entertained

°he acts almost identical to Dazai

°"put them on speaker I want to hear!!"

°he'd get along so well with them probably like holy shit

°y'all once just started taking about alphas (it turned into war)

°the Insults you two send are like a bed time story to him. Tell him all about the drama, speak your truth bestie

Yeah so like.. The meeting was entertaining, insults getting thrown back and forth by the three of you, some beverages and snacks and you just sat there for literal hours (can you tell I'm out of ideas and motivation?)

Sigma

°he is concerned

°you know how when he was with Fyodor, Nikolai and Dazai and he said "im the only normal one" or something similar

°THAT'S HOW HE FEELS RIGHT NOW

°like he's Fr just listening to you two talk about the family trauma while giggling and he's like "that ain't normal😶😶

°IF HE GETS ANXIOUS HOLD HIS HAND THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE THING I'M BEGGING YOU

°he finds your interactions interesting and definitely takes note of how you two speak to each other

°he never had a family of his own so he starts seeing your cousin as one as they became friends

°either that or your cousin is like your guys' child

°if y'all ever gossip in the casino he's kind of scared you'll scare the customers off

°definetly just sits and cuddles you while you're talking shit with them

°OKAY IDK WHY BUT A GROUP WHERE IT'S YOU, SIGMA, NIKOLAI AND YOUR COUSIN. PURE FUCKING CHAOS

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markberries · 3 months

Text

my only muse ﹒ 5

sypnosis ﹕ you’re mark’s classmate and you’re both english majors. mark makes music on the side and posts it on soundcloud and he asks you to promote it, but it genuinely sucks a— it’s.. interesting.

genre + ﹕ social media au f!reader, humour, fluff, college au, mark + y/n are both english majors, mark is a loser, bsfs!karina ryujin yunjin yangyang & xiaojun

wc ﹕ 1.4k

masterlist + comment/msg me to be added to the taglist

taglist ✦ @replayenthusiast @jeongintwt

the crisp end of winter and soon to be spring air tickles your cheeks, making your ears cold and your hands colder. there’s a book bag slung over your shoulder, slightly swaying as you pace the campus halls to make it to your first lecture of the day.

the bustling atmosphere makes it nearly impossible to get around it, but after having to walk this route many times, you’ve grown accustomed to the path you need to take in order to make it to class on time. the sounds of students engaging hits your ears as your shoes pat against the floor, your subconscious picking up bits and pieces of conversations as you make your way towards your composition writing class.

the first thing you do when you make it to the door is poke your head inside, scanning the few students who have decided to show up as early as you. there’s no sight of mark yet, which makes you let out an internal sigh of relief. this meant he wouldn’t have a chance to make conversation before the class starts, and you could sit away from him and dart out of the room as soon as the lecture ends.

“y/n?” a voice from behind you makes you flinch, grasping at your chest as your heart races within it. you immediately snap your head to the owner of the voice behind you, your stomach dropping when you recognize the same korean boy who’s music is terrible.

“oh, hey mark,” you greet him, attempting to be as casual and not awkward as possible. you can feel your heart rate beginning to slow after the short scare, your hands coming back to your sides. “you scared me.”

the brown haired korean-canadian looks at you with a smile, his fingers around his black backpack straps as he raises his eyebrow. his figure is adorned with a pair of black basketball shorts and a dark blue hoodie, something along the lines of clothes he wears nearly everyday. his glasses sit comfortably on his nose bridge, the silver frames complimenting his brown eyes.

“sorry dude, didn’t mean to scare you,” mark apologizes, reaching out and giving your shoulder a slight pat. “wanna head inside and sit together? i can show you what i’ve been working on.”

the dreadful question escapes from mark’s lips, making you unexcited for what’s to come. you don’t want to outright insult mark, even more so because you two sit on the title of mere acquaintances, so you settle for smiling and nodding your head. “yeah, sure. class doesn’t start for another.. fifteen minutes.”

mark’s face lights up pleasantly, his body stepping out of the way for you to enter the lecture hall. he gestures his arms forward, maintaining a good amount of personal space. “after you, then.”

you nod your head once to signify a thank you, walking into the high ceiling and large classroom with mark following behind you. there’s still an awkwardness that sits in the air, and you’re unsure if mark can sense it, or if it’s just all in your head. you’ve never spoken to mark on a friendly level, only interacting when needed, in terms of joint assignments or homework assistance.

you and mark end up sitting near the back of the class, the sunlight casting a soft glow from the windows behind you two. you sigh, setting down your book bag underneath your desk, and begin getting yourself sorted. you pray that mark will wait until after class to decide to show you his ‘music’, so that you could devise a plan to sneakily escape before he gets the chance to.

but, instead of your prayers being answered, you’re met with the devil’s wrath as mark nudges you lightly on the arm. your head slowly turns in his direction, trying to control your facial muscles to keep your smile from dropping as your eyes flick to the airpod he holds out in one of his hands. his expression is alike to that of a child showing their mother a badly drawn sketch, full of excitement and awaiting praise as he offers you the airpod.

“oh, thanks,” you manage to say in a sweet voice, your fingers lightly grazing mark’s warm palm as you take the item from his grasp. you watch as he loads up his laptop, opening up what looks like a professional music making app. as to how mark makes shit music with such great resources, you still remain clueless. you place the airpod in your ear, hoping to god that this doesn’t destroy your ear drums.

“just let me know if it’s too loud, i’ll turn it down for you,” mark grins, leaning back in his chair as his finger hovers over the space bar. he presses play, then turns to you, watching your reaction with an eager expression.

mark’s definition of kpop music is not for the faint of heart. your eyebrows subconsciously furrow together as the horrible tunes begin to sound, but you try to remain as positive as possible. your eyes keep focus on mark’s laptop screen, afraid that if you lock gazes with mark, he’ll be able to tell how much you dislike the song he’s made for you. you can’t even tell what instruments are being played, and his singing is nearly inaudible with the poor mixing of the audio.

you would have to figure out how to tell mark you weren’t going to promote his music on your twitter account, which leaves a slight feeling of guilt weighing on your shoulders; especially because you can tell the boy is working hard to make music that better suits the theme of your social media.

tired and somehow annoyed with the song echoing in your skull, you reach out to pause the music with a swift motion. mark still seems oblivious to your disdain for his music, still gazing at you with that same excited grin. you have to resist the urge to rub your temples and sigh, instead opting into giving him a closed lipped smile while letting out an awkward chuckle.

“so,” mark leans forward in his seat, making your neck and cheeks heat up due to sheer second hand embarrassment. “what do you think? good enough to post? i’m open to constructive criticism.”

you pause, trying to find the correct words that won’t hurt mark’s feelings. you do think he has potential, since he has a good voice (underneath the aggressive autotune) and a strong passion for music, but you’re unsure of how to tell him that this song he made is hot trash. “no.. um.. not quite..”

you make sure to avoid mark’s eyes, not wanting to see whether or not he has a disappointed expression. you rub the back of your neck, keeping your eyebrows scrunched up as you continue to rack your brain for the correct wording to use.

“oh yeah? what do you think i should change?” mark’s voice perks up, and you’re slightly baffled by his unwavering tone. he still seems excited, and thankfully, not upset over the fact that you deemed his work as ‘not good enough to post’.

“i’m not like.. an expert on music making or anything, but i think you should balance out your voice and the instrumental,” you admit, finally meeting mark’s brown orbs as you turn to him. he nods his head, listening intently to your advice as you continue speaking. “and maybe stick to one consecutive theme and pace..? i think that’ll help you improve.”

mark jots down your notes on his laptop, typing them up and highlighting some of your words. you let out an internal sigh of relief, grateful that mark is truly taking this as constructive criticism. he seems open minded, and not one to argue if someone is genuinely trying to help him get better at what he enjoys doing.

“wow dude, thank you so much,” mark smiles, turning back to you with a glint of elation in his eyes. “i like when people tell me what i’m doing wrong. it helps me a lot. i’ll make sure to do better and make a good song for you.”

for some reason, with mark’s words echoing in your brain, your heart swells. it may be because of the fact that he’s a good looking guy writing you a song (although it’s nothing personal), but a part of you views it as endearing. you’re still unsure of whether or not you’ll actually promote his music on your twitter account, but you’re still glad you were able to help him in any meaningful sort of way.

#nct #nct 127 #nct dream #wayv #nct fanfic #nct fluff #mark #mark lee #mark fanfic #mark fluff #nct smau #mark smau #mark lee smau #mark lee fanfic #mark lee fluff #markberries #my only muse

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lewkwoodnco · 3 months

Text

I got options, babe - Lockwood x Reader

“It’s a snow globe.”

In a miraculous moment of clarity, she realised what George was violently trying to communicate to her from behind Lockwood: play dumb.

”What’s a snow globe?”

George was positively beside himself.

a/n: the people have spoken so here is part 2 to buy me presents! am so sad i fell a little sick during the hols, threw a terrible wrench in my 12 days of fics plans for last year but i'm alr planning ahead for this year :))) yes its xmas themed but the vibes are close enough to valentines so shush. if i was in the l&co universe i would pay good money to see someone tell george to live laugh love, and i would tip extra if it was lockwood hehe. also I tagged a few extra ppl who seemed interested in a sequel!

warnings/tropes: lockwood x glassmith!reader, mostly fluffy, only a smidge of angst towards the end, clueless lockwood my beloved <3

word count: 2.6k!

buy me presents (pt 1)

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

When Lockwood had shaken George awake plenty of hours before, it had taken a while for George's brain to catch up to what was happening. By the time it did, he was worriedly watching Lockwood animatedly talking to one of the shop assistants from a nearby telephone booth.

"No idea what it is, or why..." he was telling Lucy. Lockwood was looking around for him. George nervously shifted behind one of the bars of the booth.

"Maybe he's just blowing off some steam?"

Lockwood was now wearing an aggressively tinseled Santa hat while wielding an identical one. George had a pretty good idea who that was for.

"Er, maybe. But perhaps you should come home too. Just in case."

Lockwood had finally spotted George and was frantically waving him over. George did not like the way the Christmas lights were reflecting in Lockwood's eyes.

"For the love of God, Luce, please come home. You can't leave with me...this."

With a bone-deep sigh, George regretfully hung up and emerged from the telephone booth, smiling weakly at Lockwood.

He was more than grateful for his presence of mind earlier, once they had reached Portland Row. Lucy walked in just minutes after Lockwood's unpleasant realisation about Nicholas and guffawed at the sight of the tiny tsunami of gifts.

"Brilliant," George said. "Your turn." He handed Lucy one of the last presents he had been holding and disappeared into the kitchen. She turned towards Lockwood incredulously, who was indignantly standing in front of the sea of presents with his hands on his hips. She raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, okay, I see how it is. I buy a few gi-"

"In what WORLD is this few-"

"- few gifts, and suddenly I'm the bad guy. It's Christmas, but I'm feeling a lot of negativity pent up here."

"Now you're just deflecting." Lucy rolled her eyes as Lockwood started fishing out some receipts from his pockets.

"Can't a guy spend...uh...three-oh. Oh. That's a lot of zeroes."

"Lockwood. How much did you spend?"

"...suddenly, I don't think I know any numbers past ten."

"Lockwood!"

"I couldn't figure out the installment plans! That's Y/N's job!"

George returned to the front door corridor and started picking up some boxes at random and shaking them experimentally.

"Yeah, a fine job you've left her to sort out your debts! No more shopping till Easter. And George, if you don't steal his wallet, I will."

He held up the present he was holding to Lockwood. "Listen, I don't think Y/N's going to want all of these, so how about I -"

"Absolutely not."

George made a rather rude gesture and disappeared back into the kitchen. Lockwood bent over to start clearing a path through the presents to the stairs.

"How was I supposed to know she was only kidding?"

"You know what her sense of humour's like. George and I would have picked up on it in a second."

A very unhappy Lockwood straightened out from under the avalanche of presents.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

A little before lunch, Lockwood knocked on the attic door. It was ajar, and she was reading in a contorted position, all twisted up with a blanket on her rug in the one patch of sunlight in the room, leaning against her bed. She nearly tipped over when Lockwood poked his head in, but caught herself in time.

"Hey."

They stared at each other for a moment. It was the first time they had been alone since the morning's happenings, and it didn't feel as easy to laugh about it all when it was just them. Because the truth was, she didn't find it all that funny. Confusing, yes. Stressful, perhaps. But it wasn't that funny when all the emotions felt excruciatingly true. She closed her book, and Lockwood took another step in, leaning against the bannister.

"I'm sorry about the whole Nicholas thing. I was having a laugh, that's all. I never wanted to make you seem...foolish."

"I don't even remember Nicholas. I mean, that guy."

"Lockwood."

"Who's Loc- I mean, Nicholas? I'm Lockwood."

"Yes, I know."

"And I don't feel foolish. Do you think I'm foolish?"

She smiled at him with rheumy eyes, and his face twisted strangely like he was suppressing his own smile. His eyes drifted to the book in her lap, and the blanket swaddling her face.

"Er, reading?"

"Trying to. The sun's making me feel so sleepy."

"Then move out of the sun. Or take a nap."

She glared at him, scoffing incomprehensibly. "T-take a nap? What am I, 5? And we barely get any sun as it is, I'm trying to thaw my insides."

"Can you even breathe in that?"

She took a wheezing breath. "...yes."

Still, Lockwood sat down next to her, and after a bit of scuffling, she was tipped slightly to her side, leaning against him slightly. She was starting to regret using such a thick blanket through which she barely felt his shoulder. He picked up the book and opened it to the pages her finger was stuck between, and started reading. She closed her eyes and listened. It was some dream to be sitting next to him, without the usual inches between, to hear his honeyed voice ebb and flow, to watch his fingers smooth the pages and fiddle with the edges.

It was mildly disconcerting to hear the shape of his voice take on such a poetic form as if they were in some parallel universe. As if they were in some parallel universe where falling in love was easier than falling asleep.

A few hours later, she woke up on her bed with a jolt, writhing uncomfortably in her blanket. Once she had managed to peel herself out of it, the embarrassment of having fallen asleep on him sunk in. She needed something to take her mind off it and eventually decided to tinker in her workshop. Down in the basement, she had a small makeshift workshop set up for the occasional tinkering or fiddling with some spare parts. It helped her mind relax when her hands had something to do.

She spent a very peaceful hour regluing some tiny diamonds that had fallen off an old watch. That was, until a door banged open from somewhere else in the house, followed by frantic voices. She looked up in alarm as the footsteps drew closer, blinking owlishly behind her magnifying eyeglasses. Her door swung open and Lockwood walked in, closely followed by a barely suppressed silent, but very agitated, George.

“Y/N, look what I found in George’s suitcase.”

Between the panicked sirens blaring in her head and George’s epileptic hand gestures, it was a miracle she was able to process all those words in the right order.

“…oh?”

A frozen smile sat on her face as her eyes nervously darted between the boys’ faces.

“It’s a snow globe.”

In a miraculous moment of clarity, she realised what George was violently trying to communicate to her: play dumb.

”What’s a snow globe?”

George was positively beside himself.

Lockwood, on the other hand, looked alarmed and touchingly concerned.

“You...you don’t know what a snow globe is? Do they not have snow globes where you’re from?”

“Did you just ask me if they have snow globes…in Hackney?”

He looked slightly miffed, but she couldn’t stay annoyed for long with his foolishly good-natured intentions.

“Look, Lockwood, I’m a little busy here. Is there something I can help you with?”

“I just…wanted to see if you knew anything about this.” He turns it over in his hand, and even with the shelter of anonymity, she finds herself desperately seeking the approval in his eyes that she had been hoping for. “It’s...it's beautiful. When I first saw it, I thought…” He looks up from the snow globe at her, where she’s holding her breath, and she’s distantly aware of how suspiciously invested she must seem in his answer.

“I thought it had to be you.”

She has his answer, but she still hasn’t let go of that breath, as if keeping at bay all the emotions and hope that will come rushing in with her exhale. He watches her face, and she’s too scared to even twitch. Too scared to come right out and say everything the snow globe meant.

“You thought wrong."

George’s seizure-like convulsions returned with a new vigour. Lockwood continues standing there for another minute, and it makes her think he hasn’t heard her until he regretfully bows his head.

“I suppose. Well, I hope your work won’t keep you long. We'll be having tea soon. Let’s- good God, George, are you having a fit?!”

After their Christmas Eve tea, they exchanged presents, and to call it an awkward affair would have been an understatement. She passed Lockwood the pair of snowman socks. George grudgingly passed him the snow globe. The absurdity of the gifts and their donors made the four of them pause for a moment.

Finally, Lucy broke the quiet by handing out her gifts: mugs with pictures of Inspector Barnes accompanied with cheesy quotes. George's was 'live, laugh, love.' Lockwood's was 'keep calm and carry on.' But everyone was still looking far too solemn, so she nearly had an aneurysm holding back her laughter.

After they all retired to their rooms, she retreated into her chilly workshop. But instead of continuing with her work, she just sat at her desk, brooding a little. A few minutes later, there was a knock on her door as a rather breathless and pink-faced Lockwood poked his head in.

"Still working?"

She shook her head. "What are you doing?"

"Returning the presents." He turned to step out but hesitated. "Are you sure you don't want to keep any?"

"I'm sure that I would hate it if we went bankrupt. Do you need any help?"

"Oh, no, I'll be - yes. Yes, actually. These are a lot of presents. If you could spare the time...I'd really appreciate it."

So after she bundled up in her woollens and wrestled a scarf onto Lockwood, they somehow hurriedly carted the many slightly scuffed shopping bags into the cab, where they only had a brief break to catch their breath, given how close they lived to the shops.

After that, it was a race to hit all the stores before they closed for Christmas Eve. After a couple of rounds, they had developed the fairly efficient system of Lockwood lugging the gifts around while she spoke with the shop assistants. The one drawback to their fine plan, at least for him, was her glancing at the receipts and the too-long numbers at the bottom of them ("Jesus Christ, Lockwood, how did you not have to take out a loan for these? Honestly! Do you think we're made of money?").

Finally, their luck ran out at their very last store, which looked as though it had been closed for hours. She knocked and peered inside feverishly, clutching the very last gift stubbornly.

"No, no, we were so close! Now what do we do?"

"We can come back after the holidays. Or," he gently pried the box out of her fingers, smoothly lifting the top, "you could keep it."

It was a silver charm bracelet, with rapier and lavender charms dangling from the central chain, much like the ones they laid out on jobs. It was beautiful. But she couldn't take it.

"You already gave me a present."

"Have another. A little special something for a special someone."

His cavalier attitude, his foolish smile - in that moment, it was all too much. Her terrible temper flared and she shoved the present into him, forcefully enough to make him stumble a little. She turned and started walking home briskly, fuming silently until he and his long legs finally caught up to her.

"Wha - was it something I said? Y/N? Y/N."

"I don't know, Lockwood." She was sick of his carelessness, sick enough to be a little careless herself, let her tongue run loose. "What have you said? Or haven't said?"

"Y/N, you know I'm terrible at riddles."

"Well, maybe Belinda can help you."

That stuns him enough to make him stop in his tracks. She slows down and, after steeling her fraught nerves, turns around.

"...what does Belinda have to do with anything?"

His hopelessly clueless expression, which typically soothed her anger in their worst fights, only served to infuriate her further here. She walked towards him angrily.

“I didn't want to give you the goddamn snow globe because Belinda exists. All right? Because there are a thousand different girls out there who you’ll like better than me.” There’s a sudden tightness in her chest. With some difficulty, she turns away from him, lightly pressing her sternum. “I can’t compete with them, Lockwood. I won’t let you make me.”

She hears the crunch of the snow under his shoe as he takes a step towards her.

"Belinda is...amazing. She might even be perfect. But even she's just a friend, because...because you exist. And-and I could find...the most perfect girls out there, but the image of you would still be breathing in some corner of my mind. It wouldn't be the same with anyone else. It never is."

She sniffed gently. "This might be the right time to tell you that the snow globe...was from me."

She can't decide if she hates or loves how she can hear the smile in his voice. "No. Really?"

She turns back around, smiling sarcastically at him. "Ha-ha. But don't get too excited about it. I made little figurines to represent the four of us at Portland Row, but you can't even see them from the outside. It's ridiculous."

"It's okay. I'll know they're there."

At that moment, she felt a rush of gratitude towards Lockwood. He made everything a little easier, a little sweeter. They were standing so close that she could see a tiny snowflake on one of his eyelashes. She didn't dare breathe.

"There really never was any competition."

"I know."

"Then why does it sound like you don't believe me?"

She frowned. "I do believe you."

"I don't think you do."

"...do you want me to not believe you?"

"Y/N."

"What?"

"There's something you should know."

"Lockwood, I am going to throttle you."

"You're standing under mistletoe."

She glanced upwards, and it was as though all the air had been stolen from her lungs. Against the pitch-black sky and the gentle dusting of snow, a soft white sprig of mistletoe was curling out of the edge of a branch. She lowered her eyes back to Lockwood's, and her eyes fluttered shut as he leaned over.

As impossibly close as they were before, they were even closer now, and it still felt like they would spend their whole lives trying to get close enough to each other. She kissed him the way she loved him - desperately, with her whole being. When they broke apart, the tip of his nose and cheeks were tinged pink, and there was a light dusting of snow on his hair. In that moment, all she remembered thinking was that none of his presents made a better gift than he did.

As they walked home with fingers tangled together, she realised that they didn't need some parallel universe. In every universe, they would somehow, somewhere, find each other, and dare to love.

TAGLIST: @novelizt @thegreathuxton @avdiobliss @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #fanfiction #fanfic #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood imagine #buy me presents #sabrina carpenter #fluff

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sulfurz · 9 months

Text

ೃ༄ SHIELDING FEELINGS (LITERALLY) (roman reigns x fem!reader)

ೃ༄ PAIRING: roman reigns x fem!reader

ೃ༄ REQUESTED BY: anon

heyyyy!! i have a fluff request for roman x (fem) reader. it’s set in his shield days and the reader is a apart of the shield (or a really close allies with them whichever you want) and she’s kind of like the lita of the group. Her and roman have huge crushes on eachother and it’s so obvious to not only seth and dean/mox but the whole wwe universe. So the two guys try to come up with a plan to have them both confess to eachother 😅😅

ೃ༄ WARNINGS: this is pure humour and fluff! basically just himbos dean and seth struggling at playing cupid

ೃ༄WORD COUNT: 1.8k

ೃ༄ NOTE: hello lovely anon i got a BIT carried away with this i apologise but i hope it still works🥹 i had way too much fun writing shield as terrible matchmakers

dean ambrose had a plan.

albeit, it wasn’t a very well thought out one. but it was a plan of somewhat decent calibre.

you see, he had a lot of time for you, acting as shield’s manager and all. what he didn’t have time for was how goddamn dumb you could be sometimes (seth’s words, not his — although he very much agreed).

what was it that got dean so riled up, you ask? well it was the fact that you were so evidently in love with roman reigns, and yet never managed to say more than a pretty pathetic ‘uh, you look nice’ whenever the four of you were backstage.

even worse than you? roman. this man had not kept his crush on your quiet. apparently you were the only one who couldn’t see it, and yet instead of ever acting on said emotions, roman liked to play a fun game of hide from y/n in the locker rooms until it’s time for our match and then i only have to see her for five minutes before. this had, on many occasions, ended with dean nearly throwing him to the ground because of course all this was going to do was make you worry the very beautiful yet stubborn man hated you.

a pretty man, but clearly very little common sense, dean had concluded.

so that was when, after too many training sessions in which you’d sit in silence until your coach brought you into the conversation, he hatched his master plan.

now just to put it into action.

it just so happened the final member of the shield would be a perfect partner.

—

the plan was, in dean and seth’s eyes, bulletproof. they would probably have to undergo a pretty intense intervention afterwards considering how wrong they had been; but at first, their confidence was through the roof.

oh no, dean hurt his shoulder in practice — what a shame! good job seth was there to take him to the medic, a walk he definitely could have done on his own! but they were so smart, right? surely you and roman would talk about something if forced to coinhabit the same space without a buffer?

yeah. they really thought so too.

but after fifteen minutes of hiding behind a comically large stack of chairs, they felt it necessary to put the two of you out of your misery and cry that it was a false alarm.

maybe you two really were more hopeless than dean initially thought.

so came attempt two: the halloween party. because who doesn’t love a good dress up party?

apparently, cupid was more of a christmas fan.

as it happened, vast majority of people brought their dates to the work party, which dean and seth hadn’t planned for, but made the situation even more perfect. not to mention you and roman had accidentally both turned up dressed as demons (finn balor made a playful scene when you walked in) — it was practically a match made in heaven! or hell…

this attempt was easy in theory: set up a conversation about how fun dancing was, before abandoning the two of you at a table to take to the dancefloor themselves. surely you’d get fed up of being left out and want to join???? surely!

except, what dean and seth had failed to consider was that in the spirit of halloween, and the fact that some of the most iconic superstars in the roster loved a good prank, the place was practically decked out with tricks, instead of treats.

dean and seth observed quietly from the dancefloor (they had long since abandoned their girlfriends and were simply dancing together now, chest to chest (hey — this matchmaking was a taxing game!)), practically cheering when they saw the two of you finally getting somewhere.

roman stood, offering a hand to you with a good natured “if you can’t beat them, join them?”, and it was obvious the two of you were so close to finally making that first step as your hand reached for his—

then, a plastic skeleton hidden in a bowl of candy on your tabled decided to choose that moment to make its appearance very known.

and there went your glass of red wine, all down your favourite pantsuit (luckily — it was red too, but the dark patch across your chest was not doing you any favours).

roman very sweetly apologised on behalf of the skeleton, which was the very final part of the conversation seth and dean heard before you were scurrying away to change. they quite literally facepalmed as they walked over to a dumbfounded roman, who still played the entire situation off.

it seemed they’d have to step things up if they really wanted to get through the both of your very thick skulls.

so attempt three was… certainly less subtle.

worse still, it came only a month after the halloween party, when you were still in the thick of your ‘hiding from roman reigns’ era, so imagine your surprise when here comes dean ambrose and seth rollins, dragging roman up to you with the latter wearing an expression of confusion that surely mimicked you own.

“okay.” dean spoke, slamming a hand on the catering table “you, roman, like y/n.”

“you, y/n, like roman.” seth added.

then, like one of those old timely comedy acts, at the same time the men both exclaimed a “now talk!”

and to yours and roman’s credit… you did speak?

it’s not your fault the members of shield hadn’t made the topic entirely clear. it was obvious by now that when it came to roman, you were blind to any subtext, so they could hardly blame you for missing the mark.

“of course i like roman? he’s my friend?” you questioned warily, genuinely beginning to get concerned for the two men you considered friends.

“are you two okay?” roman added, genuine concern across his face as he outstretched a hand to slap seth? check him for a fever? both?

you hummed in confirmation, thinking back on every odd occurrence that had happened between you and roman recently, realising that the common denominator in every situation was the two other members of the stable you managed probably saying something extremely dumb.

—

eventually, dean and seth had to admit they were terrible matchmakers.

when the christmas party that same year had been announced, they very nearly put another thing together, but a swift reminder from the wonderful (and honestly; terrifying) randy orton, the two were reminded of every failed attempt in the past, and their plan unravelled before it had even found it’s feet.

as would turn out, when there wasn’t two idiots meddling, that was when things unfolded themselves.

after the many times you had embarrassed yourself in front of your teammate lately, you weren’t expecting roman to approach you mid way through the party. he had spent pretty much the entire night hovering on the opposite side of the room, and for good reason to. you were a liability after all, and his suit shirt was too nice to end up with wine on it. you had opted for white wine instead this time though, just incase.

“hi.” a deep voice came from behind you.

you had been watching triple h and stephanie dancing together for the best part of half an hour, nursing your glass of wine contentedly until the voice behind you had startled you. your glass wobbled in your hand in a terrifying suggested repeat of the halloween event, but roman was prepared this time, swiftly reaching a hand around you and saving it from disaster.

“i should have probably learnt not to sneak up on you.” he joked, motioning with your (thankfully still full) wine glass in his hand before he handed it back to you.

“i certainly learnt that red wine is tasty but dangerous.” you played along, your heart doing a weird thumping thing at how roman chuckled.

“i’m sorry if the other guys ever made you feel uncomfortable.” roman said genuinely, catching you off guard. it was rare you spoke, let alone when the topics brushed a level of seriousness. “we love having you working with us as shield, but they don’t know when to turn off the jokes sometimes.”

you shook your head quickly, hating the idea that roman was concerned about you. sure, dean and seth were idiots at the best of times, but it was a huge part of their charm. from them trying to break roman during promos to their odd, but intriguing backstage celebrations, the slight unhinged enthusiasm was what you loved.

“trust me. i love working with them. with, with you all.” you added at the last second, not missing the slight upper curl in the corner of roman’s mouth when he realised he was included.

you could already feel the blush creeping to your cheeks just because of all his attention being on you, and you knew you were just seconds away from blurting something stupid, when an equally annoying cough came from your side.

comically, both you and roman turned your heads at the same time to see the entirely expected source of the disturbance.

seth and dean were standing a little while away, watching you with the biggest grins you had ever seen. arguably bigger than whenever your team won.

when you realised what was causing their giggles, your heart stopped.

you had casually followed dean’s eyeline, just a simple attempt to see if you could figure out the cause, when you found it immediately. and it seemed roman did too.

mistletoe. hung exactly above where the two of you stood.

you couldn’t help but widen your eyes, going to take a step back but being prevented by a gentle, yet grounding touch to your wrist. when you looked back at roman, he was closer than before, and it was practically an instinct how your eyes flickered down to his lips.

“in the spirit of christmas, right?” he asked, a grin that told it was more than just christmas spirit, and in fact something he had been trying to tell you for a while.

still, you took your time, placing a cautious hand on his bicep as you leant in to connect your lips to his. “in the spirit of christmas.”

#✍🏻 requests : anon #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x you #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns scenario #roman reigns #wwe imagines #the shield #dean ambrose #seth rollins

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celluloidbroomcloset · 4 months

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all other criticism of taika aside, the one where people get mad he's "egotistical" always just makes me hysterical like ??? he's JOKING. he is a deeply unserious person and while i do believe he has an immense amount of pride for his work and does mean what he's saying he's hamming it up to be silly because the joke he's telling is "no one cares this much about the work of some jewish indigenous guy", he LIVES by fake it til you make it and he just so happens to live Up to the hype by being a brilliant filmmaker so people can't process it in their twitter-fried brains.

he's ironically one of the least egotistical people i've ever seen, without being parasocial he seems to be actually very anxious and reserved and has said himself he hates events and talking to people and gets nervous, and he likes to ham up the personality for laughs. like his entire reaction oh the daily show when leslie asked him if he knew he was fine and he did preen a little but every other word after was 100% a joke 😭 people loved his irreverent kiwi humour until he proved he uses it consistently himself and then they're like oh... he's an egomaniac hollywood a lister who has threesomes and cheats on his pregnant wife!!!!! all this is one hundred percent true my source is (checks hand) an anonymous gossip instagram account that anyone can submit to. like that joke he made about the bible everyone on twitter got mad about more recently.

Yeah, from what I've observed of his interviews and general sense of humor, that seems to be true (it is interesting that David Jenkins has talked about Rhys making Taika feel safer to be vulnerable, so one does wonder how much both of them use humor to protect themselves - again, though, I don't want to get into analyzing the psychology of performers or making generalizations about people I do not know).

I think you have to have a pretty strong ego to be an artist at all, especially one in an industry so heavily run on ego, where getting a film or show made in the first place is a supreme effort. My point generally is that we often celebrate white male directors and artists for their egos - "well, he's egotistical, but he's a GENIUS!" - and don't extend that to...everyone else. Everyone else needs to be humble and have humility and be grateful - and if they're not, they're difficult and self-centered and they have to be brought down a peg.

Taika is a PoC (not just that - an indigenous, Jewish) man who has been very successful and he talks a lot and often without thinking, so he's been targeted by a lot of people that seem to have a problem with him from the outset (wonder why?), who then scrutinize every statement he makes to determine if he's being a proper example of what they believe a man like him should be.

Generally, we refuse to let artists be human beings with human emotions and opinions. We especially refuse the right of humanity to anyone who isn't straight and white and cisgender and male. The number of times I've seen critics and commentators and fans explain away the absolute worst things done by white male artists and not extend even a modicum of understanding to anyone else.

This, again, is not a defense of any specific thing that Taika, or anyone else, has said or done. There are lots of artists with terrible opinions whose work I like and will continue to like, and there are lots of artists I can no longer enjoy because of what I know their opinions and actions to be. But this whole thing is shaded with racism and vitriol.

#reply #ofmd #taika waititi

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joltik-guy · 12 days

Text

[Electros plan]

{off screen post}

Joltik was so tired. The kind of tired that made your brain turn to mush inside your skull, that let the corners of your vision turn white. The kind of tired that wouldn’t go away.

The public hated them. Everyone hated them. And yet new vilgilantes popped up everyday, earning love and interest from the public. Paco, and now Juniper? It was pathetic. They did this before it was cool. Before it was common. What- do they just get all of the praise and attention, while Joltik fades into obscrurity. It wasn’t fair. People choosing this! They didn’t choose this!

Their vision goes completely white for they don’t know how long- it didn’t feel longer than a second- but it seemed to be morning, judging by the equipment lighting up, or maybe it wasn’t. They didn’t see sunlight anymore, their vision was far too degraded for that.

Their eyes almost immedaitly snapped to Electro, (HOW DID SHE GET IN!?) who glowed like the sun should. She grinned, standing behind glass, in a room Joltik was yet to enter. She stood on her tippy toes, attempting to set up some TVs, with several more already organised.

“Oh hello! Decided to join us have you?”

She’d been in for a while- and they hadn’t noticed. They had failed- no- not entirely. Not yet.

The jerk upright- their only goal now is to get to her. To get her.

“I can’t believe you sleep with you eyes open! Freaky!”

She giggled, adjusting the last TV, and moving to connect some wires.

Joltik reached the door, but yanking on the handle revealed it was locked. Electro tuts, sitting down on a swivel chair and sliding to a large computer in the room, typing faster than what seemed to be humanly possible.

“You’re not allowed in yet! I’m not done! You should’ve invested in some more sleep- you look terrible hah-”

Joltiks fists clench, attempting to smash the glass, in one swing. It doesn’t work. Even with their superhuman strength- it bounces off the glass, only leaving their hand throbbing. They look up at her, not in any humour for this.

“I fucking hate you.”

She turns around to face them at this, her face almost showing something akin to disappointment.

“Oh- I know. I know you do.”

At that moment, the door clicks open, seemingly for no reason, and joltik rushes in without thought. They lunge at her- only for her to take a step back onto the a wire carefully placed and glitch out of sight.

Joltik blinks.

What.

The door clicking closed again sickened them to their stomach. Turning revealed her.

Outside of the room. Standing on a wire, grinning wider than ever, some sort of remote in her hand. She walks up to the glass as the tv’s flicker to life.

“Oh I didn’t think you’d fall for that! But hey- Thank you for making this easy!”

Joltik frantically looks around the room, turning in a small circle. They were trapped. Their head began to sting as their joltik senses fired off, everything was wrong. So wrong. This was bad.

All of the TV’s begin to play the same footage. Black and white security footage of their last fight with electro. The villains on the screen begin to bicker.

Electro grins maniacally, rocking on her feet. Everything was falling into place perfectly.

Joltik walks to the oppisite side of the room, where a large sturdy looking machine sits, attempting to pull it apart yeilded the same results as trying to damage the window. Yet they keep trying.

The TVs playing joltik yelling out "You think I wanted this? Any of this? YOU THINK I WANT TO SPEND MY TIME FIGHTING YOU!?" makes them freeze.

Electro continues her monolouge.

“That really made me think, bug guy. I thought you wanted this- you wanted to be some sort of hero- but you sound bitter. You sound angry.”

Joltik gets back to attempting to break the glass dividing them,

“I am angry- LET ME OUT!”

“I’ve looked over your account, and honestly. I’m doing you a favour here.”

Joltik continues punching the glass, feeling something crack in their hand. Electro hears it and winces, tilting her head

“See- you’re destroying yourself- You always have, always will.”

The TVs start to play different footage this time, it seems like a compalation of joltik being injured, or hurt in their line in their work, including the infamous fight with minskt. She seems to have put a lot of work into this.

“I used to want to use this machine on myself- undo the rotom hybridity that was gifted to me, but I think you’re a much better candidate.”

Joltiks blood runs cold

“What.”

“Once this is over you’ll be normal! Just like you want! Just like you’ve always wanted!”

She begins to click buttons on the remote. The machine behind them making ‘power up’ noises

“NO – I DON’T WANT THAT- I DO NOT WANT THAT”

“Oh but you do! And your friends do too! It’ll be so much better for both of us. You’ll get what you want and I won’t have to deal with you bothering me anymore!!”

“LET ME OUT PLEASE PLEASE- PLEASE STOP THIS LET ME OUT!”

Electro giggles, before turning to joltik, any fun in her expression gone,

“It will hurt less if you’re still.”

With that the machine comes to life.

It was hard to tell if their screams were louder, or the machine itself.

#joltik guy #//off screen post #irl pkmn #pokemon roleplay #pkmn rp #pokemon #irl pokemon #pokereality #pokeblog rp #rotumblr #pokemon unreality #rotomblr

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suzannahnatters · 4 months

Text

And here are my reactions to Love Like the Galaxy: episodes 13-27, in which a cdrama does some absolutely terrific things I've never seen before which make me incredibly happy. This is also beneath the cut because I got very excited!

Tremendously diverted by how little this whole entire arrow through the chest is bothering our hero, one would think he'd broken a nail

Ling Buyi: I will tear apart this whole empire and everyone in my way to find out who is smuggling imperial weapons to rebels

also Ling Buyi: I am determined that only the very deepest love will ever induce me to marry

NN scolds a whole hospital full of sacking victims into drinking their medicine because how dare they lie around in pain and trauma when their loved ones died to keep them alive and it's another writing decision I'm not very fond of

the emperor is a gossipy old woman, he's discovered the secret of Murder General's heart in two minutes of screen time, I fondly look forward to episodes' worth of behind-the-scenes matchmaking

ahaha we have entered the "Niao Niao finally gets a boyfriend, and Murder General stares at the two of them sadly from a distance" section

he's just bowing himself out so silently, without ever saying a word - because he only wants to marry for love, so if NN doesn't want him, he doesn't want her

Marry the sweet boy, Niao Niao. He's not very bright, but the only baggage he's got is from the cake shop.

oh my, Niao Niao's boyfriend is sending her terrible mother snacks in an attempt to soften her heart, what a darling

I'm dead, not only does Murder General literally have a Niao Niao Memorabilia Hoard but he leaves it in his carriage for her to see while she's being given a lift in the rain askajdalfah

Niao Niao has dinner with with her three suitors and her aunt's ex and it's every bit as wildly uncomfortable as it sounds

also the Smug Scholar is here just to cause drama and wooow these are some epic sour grapes

It's a bit jarring how cavalierly everybody at this dinner dismisses the orphan girl in the backstory. The best thing I can say is that she fails to recognise one of the emerging themes of the show, that a woman shouldn't let love consume her entire life.

Murder General's family is straight out of Shakespeare - heartrendingly mad mother, moustache-twirlingly-evil estranged father.

meanwhile, over the Jane Austen side of the plot, Niao Niao's parents break the news to her that Murder General must be hopelessly in love with her. is this the worst way to find out or what

This whole mother-daughter relationship is so real it's triggering memories of a bad family situation I was familiar with around 5-10 years ago. Just…NN's mother not trusting her an inch, wanting to micromanage her life, despite all the ways that NN has bloomed away from her. Too painfully real.

Part of the reason this story feels SO Jane Austen is the way it focuses on the small domestic dramas of families, women, and marriage, with a keen eye to humour and satire. There's Murder General's political subplot too, but it's kept compartmentalised away from the main plot.

I…I think Murder General might be a darling, actually? when he's not mowing down the emperor's enemies in an overly dramatic manner or quietly and visibly pining, he is salving his broken heart by trying to make sure NN has everything she wants in life

and this is another place where this show neatly sidesteps a common pitfall - instead of HIM decided what's good for NN and then making sure she gets it despite her own wishes, he's allowing HER to decide and then silently providing her with everything she needs to make it a success.

I'm honestly astounded that this show is managing to make the typical strong, silent, commanding male lead…actually make sense as the endgame love interest, even in the presence of someone as charming and well adjusted (and devoted to snacks!) as Luo Yao. I honestly hadn't shipped them until this stretch of the show but now I'm beginning to.

He even credits her with "suppressing the mountain bandits" when he was the one who swooped in and saved her just as she was about to lose her siege T_T I'm sorry I have something in my eye

what WHAT WHATTTTT

having been informed of General Ling's feelings by her parents, is her maid now proposing to her on his behalf???????? wild

oh………he just wanted to know her hopes and dreams

Luo Yao has learned from Niao Niao how to fight for what he wants and it makes me so happy that this show is committing to these themes because the last big cdrama I watched was all about punishing the free-spirited heroine for wanting a life of her own

I feel hopelessly confused about all this arms smuggling subplot and backstory tbh

"don't be afraid, I'm here" asjkg love a good callback

also: good for you, He Zhaojun. good for you

It was also very satisfying seeing Bad Mum and our girl getting to fight together for once, but it's clearly only a temporary case of interests aligning and not a genuine change of heart for the former. I continue to enjoy the nuanced writing here.

Smug Scholar cracks me up. every interaction he has with our girl is like: NN: you make me feel sick SS preening yes I have that effect on a lot of women

Murder General telling NN that he's convinced that whatever decision she makes will be the right one!!!! and then for the first time she breaks down saying she's tired of always being the unlucky one - she's been fighting not to show any vulnerability and she's finally showing herself - to HIM eee

again: I'm ASTONISHED the show is making me believe he's the best choice for her given the presence of darling little snack boy but it is. She hasn't shown any vulnerability to Snacks. As for Murder General, he's been bleeding vulnerability everywhere silently for 21 eps.

"Everyone talks to me about righteousness and being fully considerate. But who will be fully considerate to me?" Snacks is a sweetie and he's doing really well, but the show is doing a terrific job of showing that for all his baggage, Murder General understands & supports her far more deeply.

I was wondering how the engagement with Snacks was going to end, & I have a lot of thoughts. On one hand, I really hate that after all the stuff about the importance of being able to fight for yourself, NN convinces LY to give her up & marry a girl who's already mistreated him, for the greater good

Snacks is absolutely correct here - none of the people telling him to marry He Zhaozhang can live the rest of his life for him. While NN always does prioritise the state above family, I hate that she is now putting it above somebody else's future happiness, AFTER teaching him to fight for himself.

It feels a bit hypocritical of NN, tbh, and like it muddles the themes of the show a bit. Also, it would be one thing if Snacks marrying HZ was to avert a future catastrophe, but the He family is already heroically dead and Snacks is being asked to self-immolate on their pyre. So unfair.

That said, I'm still appreciative of a lot about this. While I don't like that Snacks is deprived of agency here, you don't often see a drama heroine making this decision, & it's done without any of the "break his heart to save him" nonsense you'd usually see at this point.

We are also shown that although Snacks is giving in to marry HZ, he still has the lessons he's learned from NN about fighting for himself & plans to use them to make his life more bearable. And NN, though kinder & more respectful than HZ, never did truly love him.

I had my money on NN being the one to bow out all along, but I wish the show wasn't trying to make a virtue out of her self-righteous statism. I would love to see NN in the future realising that being able to let LY go like this, was a sign that she didn't truly love him. I hope!

In any case, I'm glad the show leaves us with real hope that Snacks is going to be a better, happier man for having known our girl.

"no need to worry about Miss Cheng's marriage. I'll be responsible for that" the SOUND I made

A LITTLE BOYFRIEND FOR YANG YANG, YESSSS

someone needed to come along and rescue our girl from Murder General's rescue just there, 1 out of 5 stars would not ask for a rescue again

does the man have fingertips made out of Velcro

the emperor is dying to matchmake Niao Niao and Murder General and tbh I feel his frustration, we have entered the "it's been eighty-five years" section of Waiting For The Cdrama Leads To Kiss (Or At Least Confess)

ahahahahahahahahahaha Murder General just blithely announces to all the princes that on account of the cancellation of NN's previous engagement he is going to marry her now and she goes into a coughing fit, hilarious

thing is, I don't think he actually means to be domineering here, I think he reckons the entire city in general and Niao Niao in particular must know about his intentions towards her, so why beat around the bush??? it's not like it's a secret or anything?

!!!! we have a proposal?!?!?!

and her mum is like NO NO NO oh die in a fire, woman

oh wow. oh wow. it's a trainwreck. oh my goodness.

"I had no idea I was so wonderful in your eyes" screaming crying throwing up

the fact that nearly their entire courtship has had to play out in public, carried by family members and households, until finally this proposal scene happens in the royal hall itself during a banquet, is just one more of the absolutely wonderful ways this is SO Austen-esque

I'm dying for these two to have a proper conversation in private but instead they've got to checks notes attend her ex-fiance's wedding together OOOOOOHH

This scene between He Zhaojun and NN is so good. I didn't expect such growth and change for this character based on her introduction. And she's absolutely right - a marriage to someone kind and gentle is far better than to someone elegant, but cruel

The writers making this point feels pretty unusual given a very usual sort of cdrama hero. But if course murder general is, as NN points out, cruel only to his enemies. Or is she in for some surprises? WE SHALL SEE

He certainly has no chill when it comes to using his more powerful position to protect her socially lollll

He's been protecting her so often it's beginning to deprive her of agency and I'm really hoping the story doesn't overlook this in the second half.

OH YES "he's standing up for you! Are you not happy" no, no she is not I AM BLESSED

I can't believe it they're finally having a chance to talk in private and it's ALL ABOUT THIS STUFF

NN just calling him out for his thoughtless use of power

Yessssss we've moved past the point where she can fight catty girls, she's fighting him now, AHHHHHHHH. so good

"let's eat together. No need to feel awkward. I am easy to get along with" amazing "hello fellow kids" energy

OH NO HE'S TRYING TO TELL A JOKE ABORT ABORT

Murder General, who has got straight As on everything in his life to date, getting an F in Intimate Family Dinners and thinking he's done splendidly is really…amazing

I see now how NN's conflict with her mother was setting up her conflict with Murder General - both want to run their families with dictatorial military discipline, and NN, who has had more than enough of it coming from her mother, definitely doesn't want it from a husband. NN I'm barracking for you

SCREAMING

Murder General has now taken over Niao Niao's household to train them so that his beloved will be strong and ready for anything. How bad is it? it's so bad that even Perfect Cousin Yang Yang no longer wants to be an obedient female anymore

the soundtrack for this drama seriously cracks me up sometimes. Most of the time it's lush, romantic classical strings and flutes. Then, BANG - 80's guitar + synths, or…jazz clarinet????

"I'm not used to discussing everything with someone yet" aw he does want to learn better!

"You represent only oppression in my life…I don't need you to take care of me and my family so much" I cannot beLIEVE this show is letting someone say this out loud. Amazing

Cannot believe she just sent him away like that. And of course he went because he only wants someone who loves him. And I think that's the one character detail that makes this man capable of change - he doesn't know how to relate to people outside hierarchy, but he WANTS it

I really, really like that the show doesn't try to gaslight NN that she's making a fuss out of nothing - her parents encourage her to compromise the life she truly wants, but even they aren't bad enough to tell her that this IS the life she wants.

And I also love that BOTH of them are shown reflecting on where they might be going wrong and why they might be better off yielding to the other person - not just NN.

It's delightfully reminiscent of Lizzie and Darcy getting a reality check in tandem after his first proposal. SO AUSTEN.

With episode 27 I've officially finished "season 1" of Love Like the Galaxy and am right around halfway through - and this show is fulfilling my wildest dreams of cdramas justifying tropes, letting the heroine have agency, and overtly calling out the hero's unthinking use of power to control, protect, and smother the heroine. All in a sparkling Jane-Austen-flavoured comedy of manners about a little gremlin girl whose greatest strength is fighting for herself when nobody else will, and a strong, silent murder general who has resolved only to marry for ~~ LOVE ~~

It's so good, if the second half continues to be this good it'll be a solid 10 for me. MORE TO COME.

#love like the galaxy #lltg #ling buyi #cheng shaoshang #cdrama #asian drama

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kquil · 5 months

Text

FRIENDLY COMPETITION

PAIR. : Sirius Black. x Cassandra (moot)

SUM. : academic rivals' hearts don't race for each other do they? well, apparently sirius' and cassandra's do

TAGS : academic rivals ; modern au ; fluff ; sirius being sirius ; we love him ; cassandra (moot) being adorable ; latin vs french ; author isn't a languages expert in mentioned languages so i apologise for the lack of knowledge and build up there ; his name is sirius for a reason people! ; jealousy jealousy! ; oblivious!cassandra ; jealous sirius ; subtle confession ; slow build up to confession

LENGTH : 1.7k

DEDICATED TO @cassandra-nerezza-black (1k cake request)

EVENT : CLOSED

You walk through the corridors of Hogwarts, your arms laden with weighty books, your mind racing with Latin conjugations and historical dates. The castle is buzzing with the usual pre-class verve and activity, but your focus is unwavering as you weave through the maze of students. That is, until you hear a familiar voice.

"Morning, Cassandra," Sirius Black, the notorious prankster of Hogwarts along with the rest of the Marauders and your academic rival, greets you with his trademark smirk.

You glance up, meeting his mischievous steel-grey eyes, sparkling with an impishness that you are far too familiar with, "Sirius," you acknowledge with little interest, trying to mask the flutter in your chest. His presence always has this effect on you, despite—or maybe because of—your rivalry. How annoying. Even in between lessons he’s scrambling your brain.

He falls into step beside you as you try to out-walk him, however, the length of his legs helps him keep pace and his strides remain easy and confident. There’s no way you’re out-walking him, let alone out-running him, you might as well resign yourself to your fate, "studying hard as usual, I see,” he teases — just the sound of his voice makes the shell of your ears itch, “I'm surprised you don't have a book on how to have fun; that’s the one you need the most,"

You roll your eyes and try to keep a small smile from playing on your lips, "some of us value knowledge, Black," was your kittenish retort, slowly succumbing to his contagious humour.

He chuckles melodically and his hair falls over his eyes in that effortlessly charming way, "Oh, I value knowledge. Especially when it comes to languages. How's your Latin coming along?"

"Better than yours, I'm sure," you quip, feeling a sense of pride swell up in your chest, where you hug your book sources securely. Languages are your domain, your safe haven, and a subject where you excel, even more so than Sirius.

His grin widens, "Is that a challenge, Cassandra? Because you know I can't resist a good competition,"

You shake your head at him, amused despite yourself, "You're on,"

The days that follow are filled with playful banter and academic one-upmanship. You and Sirius find yourselves in a constant battle of wits, each of you fluent in multiple languages, him majoring in French and you, Latin. Debates of his language versus your ‘dead’ language was a common topic between the two of you. But it’s all light-hearted. There’s a thrill that comes with the competition and you find yourself eager to learn and get ahead just from a simple glimpse of him in the distance. He surprises you with his proficiency; he's not just a rebel or a prankster, but a smart one at that. And a terrible romantic – he did choose to major in the language of love, after all.

However, your interactions are tinged with an undercurrent of something more, something neither of you dares to acknowledge. Both due to fear and the want to keep whatever you have currently, going for as long as possible. What you have right now is worth keeping alive. It’s become a sort of highlight to your days in Hogwarts.

More often than not, you catch him looking at you when he thinks you're not aware, his gaze lingering a second too long. And you can't deny the quickening of your pulse whenever he's near. You’ve never had someone gaze upon you so lovingly and with such adoration in their eyes. Or was that just glee from what you two shared? You didn’t want to delude yourself into believing something was there if he didn’t actually feel that way but ugh! He makes it so hard sometimes!

Sirius admires your pretty face, your light, soft skin, and beautiful brown hair. He often imagines what it’s like to feel your dough-soft skin under his lingering touch and the silk of your hair through the comb of his fingers. Guiltily, he keeps his thoughts to himself, living in the fantasy whenever he’s near you and the fictitious reality he’s dreamt up countless times comes as close to reality as it can ever get.

…That’s all it’ll ever remain, however, fictitious and a fantasy. He knows how greedy he can be and constantly has to remind himself to keep from reaching forward to hold your hand or brush a stray hair out of your face. What you two have now is good enough, he wouldn’t dare sabotage it in any way.

It was a Saturday and you were in the courtyard, laughing at something a fellow Ravenclaw said. He's charming, witty, and you enjoy his company. You were especially grateful to be partnered up with him for your latest History project. Admittedly, the two of you have strayed away from the topic at hand but you weren’t too distressed over it; you’ve made some decent progress with the project already so you had the time to spare.

The atmosphere was light and comfortable but as your shoulders shake subtly in a soft giggle, a shadow falls over you. Stopping mid-titter, you look up to find Sirius looming over you with a tight expression, and a deep frown marring his handsome features. The playful glint in his eyes are gone and in their place is a menacing shine, a reflection of an unknown emotion you find hard to place.

"Cassandra, can I have a word?" he asks, voice tense. It isn’t like him to be so straightforward and curt with you; usually, your shared conversations are filled with witty remarks and lighthearted jabs at each other’s flaws — it was always good fun and never too serious.

Did you do something wrong?...

You excuse yourself, curiosity piqued and Sirius leads you away, his strides long and purposeful, you could barely keep up but keep your lips sealed. A budding anxiety grows in the pit of your stomach over what he may want to talk about. Sirius has never been so…serious before…

Once out of earshot, he turns to you and in his eyes, you see an unrecognisable intensity burning that only seems to grow by the second. Slowly, your lips part to break the increasing tension but you’re a little too slow.

"Why are you letting him hang around you like that?" Sirius demands, his voice laced with something peculiar, something uncommon for him… something green? (Jealousy?—No!)

Taken aback, your eyes widen at his query, "he's just a friend, Sirius. Why are you like this?" you ask, eyes softening at the pressure visibly tensing his shoulders, and your voice softens too, “what’s wrong?”

"Nothing–" he starts, then hesitates. He takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "Nothing’s wrong…forget it, I’m sorry, Cass…"

Your heart skips a beat,it never fails to do so when he calls you by that fond nickname, "Sirius, clearly it’s not nothing, come on…" your gentle urging slowly breaks through the cracks no matter how much he wants to deny it, “you’re not a liar, tell me the truth,”

He looks at you, his usual confidence replaced with vulnerability, "all this teasing, this competition... it's not just because I enjoy annoying you,” he struggles to find the words but you need him to say it. Your racing heart needs him to say it and confirm everything, if only to feel like you’re not crazy, “I feel more for you than that… Cassandra," he looks into your eyes, his steel irises shaking from slight terror, “...you feel it too right?” he begins again, voice quieter than ever.

“The heart racing?” He nods, “yeah, I do,”

Your confirmation brings back the light in his eyes, “And the loneliness when you’re away?” he adds and you nod this time. By now, the two of your were mirroring each other’s slowly emerging grins.

“And the butterflies in your stomach when you get close?”

He nods and it’s his turn again, “and the ticklish itch to want to hold your hand?” you two step closer to each other

“And the same ticklish feeling to kiss you?” you both nod and giggle together too.

The confession hangs between you, heavy and significant as you stare into each other’s eyes. Your hearts have been set free. Your mind racing to process the interaction between you two. Sirius Black, the heartthrob of Hogwarts, wants to hold your hand and kiss you. He’s not just a rival anymore, he’s silently begging you to be something more. And you’ll answer him but first…

“Say it…” you whisper, stretching your neck up to move your faces closer together.

“...Can’t I just show you instead?” he counters softly, his hands sliding over your hips and settling over the curve of them as he brings you closer.

“No,” you shake your head and bite your lip in a poor attempt to suppress your grin, “you have to say it first,”

As your hands settle on his shoulders, he arches a brow and the playful sparkle in his eyes are back again, “but it’ll be more romantic if I just show you,”

“Sirius,” your voice is monotone and stern and your eyes give him that ‘don’t play with me’ look. Unable to help himself, he throws his head back and laughs.

“Alright alright,” he relents and smiles when your soft, adoring look returns to your features, “Cassandra,” your name on his lips is music to your ears, so soft, so sweet and so loving, “Cass, I love you,” a wide grin stretches your lips and you squirm in place from how happy you were feeling. You were just about to return the sentiment when– “now it’s your turn,”

“Seriously?”

“My name is Sirius…so…”

You stare at him blankly.

“Any day now, Cass… Take your time but please hurry up,”

His response draws a giggle from you, “I love you too Sirius,”

In that moment, the world around you disappears. It's just you and Sirius, two opposites who somehow found a common language in each other. His smile mirrors yours and he pulls you into a gentle, yet passionate kiss. It's a kiss that speaks of new beginnings, of unexpected love found in the midst of playful rivalry.

A/N : im so sorry this was so late darling! although i really do hope you enjoyed the read,

1K MILESTONE EVENT : CLOSED | NAVI.

1K MILESTONE MLIST

#sirius black #sirius black imgaine #sirius black fic #sirius black fluff #sirius black x moot #moot : cassandra #☀︎ : 1k milestone #☀︎ : 1k #1k milestone #🍰 : cake 1k

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bowieandqueen11 · 10 months

Text

Being Scotty’s Best Friend Would Include...

Request: I'm so excited you brought up Star Trek! I was wondering if you could do some hcs for having Scotty as a best friend. I'm such a big fan of your writing. I hope you're having a great day!

Oh my gosh I’m always here for a little Scotty love and it’s been far too long since I wrote for Star Trek! Thank you darling :)

Warning: mentions of drinking alcohol, and mentions of injury/needles!

(I do not own Star Trek or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @whoophoney.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

I love my Scottish icon so much but since he takes on literally 100% of the stress for keeping this beautiful old ship afloat, he is on the brink of an exhaustion induced mental breakdown 24/7. Sometimes you have to go down to Sickbay and rope Bones into helping you; the look of panic on Scotty’s face when the two of you step out of the turbo lift and come literally sprinting towards him is something behold. With only minimal squirming, the two of you manage to rope yourselves around his arms and drag him down to his room just to get a few hours of bloody sleep. You stay, flopping down on his sofa because you know Scotty too well, and in two jiffs he’d be making a beeline straight for those sliding doors again. Bones even decides he can finish off his last bits of paperwork in the corridor, helping you keep watch.

You and Scotty manage to finally come to a halfway point: he’ll stay in his room, but only if he can curl up onto the settee next to you, and fall asleep with his chin smushed against the side of your face. He has a massive crick in his neck when he wakes up the next morning, stretching his arms out past your head while you shake a glob of his slobber off your shoulder, but it’s worth it to see how bouncy he is back down in engineering.

Sometimes when things are a bit slower on the Enterprise the two of you will have drinking competitions down in his office. Chekov happens to wander past one afternoon, and comes in laughing when he spots you desperately trying to hold back your laughter as Scotty wiggles his eyebrows on you. He nearly jumps out of his seat in a fit of giggles when you accidentally spray half of the whiskey in your mouth out over his uniform, but poor Chekov decides to wander over to your desk right then and gets most of it on the side of his face.

To be completely honest, the joy the two of you bring to each other is so infectious, that most of the Enterprise’s crew seem to gravitate towards the two of you at one time or another. One night, you and Scotty were sitting in a couple of desk chairs in the recreation room, nothing but the pearls of picked starlight whirling in the open expanse behind your head to keep you company in the dim room. The two of you are trying to speak over each other, gossip and idle chatter passing easily between the two of you as you unwind after a very long week down main engineering. It’s a very chill, warm, and comforting vibe that Jim walks in to: your legs are slung over Scotty’s lap as you nod at whatever topic his mind has jumped onto now, and he stops every so often to over you his whiskey bottle and steal it back once you’ve taken a sip. Jim likes to just sit in the same room as the two of you, because the constant stream of familiar chatter immediately drowns out and calms the storm of anxiety that brews up slowly in his head.

This man has an absolutely abysmal sense of humour, and you adore it. The ship could be in the middle of an intense attack, sweat dripping down both your faces as you make a run to the engine, trying to stop a couple of the blades from spinning off in a fiery blaze that would destroy half the cabins. Despite you literally hauling his ass through a small shaft, your grip on his legs tenuous at best as you try to dangle some equipment out from the loops of your belt, Scotty decides it’s the best time to try and crack terrible jokes to alleviate the tension. Well, he says ‘tension’, but to be completely honest he knows how afraid you are, and it breaks his heart to think that he could die without even trying to help you.

Well, he tries to crack jokes until the ship lurches sideways, and then you’re dangling from the railings around the engine while Scotty holds onto your shoulders ‘scooby doo’ style.

This man is seriously, genuinely, incredibly protective over you. He sees you as his sibling: the closest thing he has to family (before he gets close to the rest of the crew as well), and so if he finds Spock to be a little too... demeaning towards you, even though he doesn’t mean to be, he will 100% shove you behind his back. The incorrectly filled out paperwork Spock was trying to hand back to you flutters down to the floor, and Spock raises an eyebrow in measured surprise as Scotty’s fingers encircle your wrist. Then the pointer finger comes out wagging, his mouth goes off running, and you’re pretty sure you can hear him yell ‘go ahead, fire me! You bet your arse you won’t be able to find two better engineers in all the universe, laddie!’

Spock, frozen in place and confused with the interaction, just turns his head to you and offers an apology once Scotty finally cools down a little. Once he heads back to the bridge to recount what happened to an incredibly amused Jim, Scotty’s tight grip onto your wrist turns into a bone crushing hug. He mutters his own sincere apologies for letting that happen into the top of your head, hefting your feet off the floor and spinning you around, his face burning red as his chin bumps against your forehead.

He has this little check in he likes to do with you (well, mainly to check in, but also to tease you a little in the proper brotherly fashion.) You know you should probably run away when he starts slinking over to where you’re tinkering with your wrenches, with a sly smile on his face. He’ll come leaning against the wall beside you, running the back of his knuckles down the side of your face fondly, before gently slapping the side of your cheek a couple of times. You always do your best to try and poke him on the shoulder back, but that little bugger is fast as lightening as he ducks away from you and runs down towards the corridor. Sometimes Bones has wandered tiredly into one of the medical supply closets, nearly being knocked down onto his ass as you run past him with a little goblin grin and a big wave. He should have known rightly, as he opens the door, that Scotty would be hiding in here. Scotty, however, is incredibly surprised, and falls down from the pipe he’s hanging onto from the ceiling down onto a stack of shelves.

Bones just sighs and heaves him up, his tricorder already out and scanning his head as he leads him down to Sickbay. He knows to get on his comms immediately and notify you because: 1) the two of you have this kind of sixth sense where you know when the other is in trouble, so you’re already perched on the edge of Len’s desk, immediately yelling at Scotty before the two of them have hobbled through the door. And 2) Scotty, like Jim, absolutely does his best to escape Sickbay at all costs and it drives Len insane, so he needs your help to keep him in his biobed. Bones does his best to stitch up the gash in Scotty’s leg as you loop your arm around his left and haul him back down. Between muffled swears, Scotty trying to jerk you off, and you patting the beads of sweat away from his forehead gently to comfort him, Scotty begins to ease into it.

I feel like the two of you would be the type to try and tease Jim any chance you got. Say, if there’s some huge ballroom event held down at base that the crew all go to? You and Scotty are definitely on the dance floor, having a competition to see who can stand on the other’s feet the most, and waltzing terribly back and forth in front of poor Jim and whoever he’s currently trying to hold a conversation with. Eventually he just gives up, and the two of you are beat in your terrible dancing only by Jim and Spock, who he’s managed to coax to the edge of the floor and is currently just doing a slow box step in place around Jim’s arms lmao.

Sometimes you’ll head back to your quarters after a long shift to find Scotty’s bent over behind greeting you. Turns out, once he turns around in surprise with a sheepish grin, that he has spent his break fixing bits and bobs around your room. Eh, there’s a few concerning bolts scattered around your floor, and your shower now has an extra knob that you’re far too terrified to turn, but he’s so sweet bless his heart. He gets this massive, sunshine filled, proud grin on his face when you thank him for helping out, and comes clambering over towards you to engulf you in a bear hug. He has a hard time telling the people that he cares about that he loves him, so acts of devotion are definitely this man’s love language. He’s just trying to show you how much he cares in the only way he knows how, so please squeeze your arms around his waist and grip onto the broad expanse of his back, because it’s the best way for him to understand that you return the sentiment.

The two of you usually spend your shore leave together: either the two of you find a random, deserted planet and do your best to spend the time curled up asleep on the shore of a serene beach, or he takes you back to Glasgow to visit Fran since she loves you so much.

He pretends, fervently, that he’s not incredibly dependent on you being around, but bruh. If the plans ever need to change, or you receive a message on your communication device about an emergency situation back at Starfleet you’re being sent for, Scotty will act really mopey and upset for the rest of the trip because he truly misses your company so much.

#star trek #star trek imagine #scotty #montgomery scott #scotty imagine #montgomery scott imagine #scotty x reader #montgomery scott x reader #scotty headcanons #montgomery scott headcanons #star trek headcanons #star trek tos #star trek aos

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