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#like it'd be one thing if i was working a lot next week but it's just the weekend so like.... suffering all around
orcelito · 2 years
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I should make an actual outline for the coming chapters of discacc. Maybe if I'm more organized it can make writing easier
#speculation nation#discacc shit#my mental outline only process probably isnt going to keep working with me diverging from the plot of the game#i just kinda followed along with the game for a While. and then the past week in fic has been pretth easy to follow#bc it's just a week.#but we r gonna start actually moving through time more. it's been only a day or two per chapter. sometimes less.#but for next chapter i have in mind uhhh. well starting on monday. a few things throughout the thing#and then i think thursday is what i have in mind for the final scene. That one is very important.#in large part a lot of what we'll be getting is the New Normal. so there will b mundane scenes and time skips#but also peeks into the Training Process#and then we enter the next stuff lol. idk how long it'll take to get there.#maybe i should try to figure that out.#haha just a funny what if but what if i tried to plot out the remaining chapters. Loosely.#i still like the plan as i go thing bc im a very impulsive author lmao. if the characters r tugging me a different way from my plans#then yea i'll follow them. more organic that way.#but it'd be nice to have a better idea of Approximately how many more chapters there r gonna be#maybe it'd make it feel like less of an endless beast#bc someday discacc Will end. it will. im going to see this through.#on god it will end. but it's gonna b several hundred thousand words more lol#GOD i really am looking forward to smth in like a month in fic time#we r in end of september rn. and near the end of october is a very mean plan for goro lol#but when am i ever not mean to goro lmao. Rarely.#anyways hi im out of work and somehow despite the sleep deprivation i am consumed by thoughts of the discacc#i already have 41 largely thought out. but i need to officially decide on the scenes and order.#definitely gonna be less action than we've been getting. but theres smth really important coming up. So.
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queers-gambit · 8 months
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God's Plan
prompt: your boyfriend carries the worst parts of his job home, bringing to life one of your deepest-seeded insecurities. or when Carmy calls you clingy.
pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach
fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear
word count: 3.3k+
note: she's short. she's to the point. author doesn't want to hear a GODDAMN THING about "glorifying" toxic relationships. shut the fuck up, eat your cereal, read the fic or just scroll away.
warnings: cursing, small angst, short fic, author mildly gave up, hurt with no real comfort, allusion to toxic family relationship, insecurity, not edited.
part two: Two to Tango
browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here
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"Hey, what're you still doin' here?"
You glanced up from your computer, smiling at your coworker, "Just trying to get the study notes finished so they can be used for the analysis."
"Okay...? But you realize what time it is, right?"
You hummed, glancing at the analog clock, "Just about 7?"
"Yeah, so, go home," she chuckled. "Work's still gonna be here tomorrow."
"I'll see you then," you dismissed softly, watching her smile and turn away from your desk. You tried to get back into work, but the truth was, you felt overly burned out, but still wanted to work because it'd make you feel better being "good" at your job.
So, in reality, you didn't get home until 10:56 pm, yet still beat Carmy. You ate something simple, cleaned up, got a shower, and crashed into bed. You didn't know the time, but Carmy eventually came home; his arm heavy around you when settling for sleep.
You were the first up and out the door the next morning, just barely seeing Carmy when he got up for coffee. You managed a single kiss before rushing away, needing to get to work on time. When you got there, your entire morning was blocked for client meetings, then you took lunch, later, team meetings, and then the last hour or so of work was meant for individual recreation.
Another day of staying late, trying to finish work you thought was important. Another day of getting home late, missing your man, going to bed, and only seeing him the following morning.
However, this time at work, your boss told you that the analysis meetings were pushed back by a week... So, technically, you stayed late and busted your ass for no literal reason! And your coworker's entire cup of coffee spilled on you. And your Outlook email was under maintenance, so, you couldn't really work. And then, to top off a really shitty week, your car was hit in the parking lot and now had a huge fucking dent.
You were beat.
You were overwhelmed.
You were miserable, stressed, righteously confused.
You didn't stay late that night. Instead, you left at a normal hour and texted Carmy:
what time do you think you'll be off?
He replied when you got to your car:
maybe around 8?
You sniffled, nodding, answering:
okay, see you when you get home.
As you exited the parking lot, he replied:
what? you're off?
And you answered:
yeah, couldn't stand being there much longer. think you could get off a little early?
When you made three turns, he sent back:
i'll try, peach 💙
When you got home, you felt utterly defeated. Life felt like a never ending shitshow that refused to alleviate most of the stress you forced to endure. You were in tears by the time you got in the door, angrily stripping and getting a long, hot shower. You cried a little longer. When you got out, you got dressed in cozy shorts and one of Carmy's sweatshirts; going about a few household chores when you realized it was already past 9.
You didn't really want to, but you texted Carmy again,
hey, are you gonna be much later?
You made a simple meal, eating it in silence. When you were doing dishes, Carmy answered,
i don't know, going over menu items with syd. text you on my way home
You just went to bed, exhaustion from the week catching up to you.
Sometime later, you felt Carmy crawl into bed beside you. You were only half awake, but still turned over and nestled into his chest, hearing him sigh. "You're home late," you mumbled.
"Sorry f'wakin' you, Peach," he whispered, pecking your forehead. "You good, baby?"
"S'been a long fuckin' week," you squeezed him.
He sighed, "Sorry it was rough, Peach, but hey, hey, back up a little, 's kinda warm."
"But I haven't seen you."
"I know, but it's just warm. We'll cuddle in the morning, okay?" You only sighed and turned back over to face away from him. You resettled with your pillow, just settling when he asked in a hardened tone, "You mad?"
"No, Carmen, go to sleep."
"You sound mad."
"I'm not."
"I don't mean to piss you off, it's just been a long night f'me and I don't want to cuddle right now," he said in a sharp tone that made your stomach coil and churn.
"Shut up, I'm not mad, Carmen, go to sleep."
He scoffed, your irritation spiking. "You're really fucking mad 'cause I don't want you laying on me right now?"
"No, Carmen, Jesus - "
"Callin' me fuckin' Carmen doesn't help," he snapped.
You sat up and turned to him, "You want me to be mad? Maybe I'm a little pissed off that I've barely seen my boyfriend this week! Not like you've made an effort to speak to me, but I've had a pretty shitty time at work, too - so, excuse the fuck outta me for feeling disappointed!"
"Disappointed in fucking what, Peach? In not wanting t'cuddle right now?"
"Maybe, yeah! I'm upset, stressed out, maybe I just wanted some comfort, God! Now you're all up in arms, I just wanted to go to sleep - but no, you want to pick at me!"
"Oh, Jesus, fucking Christ! You couldn't just talk to me about you having a shitty week, you gotta be laid up on me? When the fuck did you get so Goddamn clingy and desperate for fucking attention? Huh? So fucking desperate for love? Sorry you had a shitty week, darling, but you're not alone in that. Sorry if it's fucking hot and I just want to sleep."
Feeling yourself fighting a losing battle because he wasn't listening, you just sighed, "Okay, Carmen."
He scoffed again, turning over to face away from you, "Know what? Fuck you, sweetheart."
You stared at his back for a long minute, feeling shocked by his words. "You can be such a fucking dick, you know that?" You snapped, standing from bed.
"And you can be a dramatic bitch."
"Yeah, that's me, the bitch you chose, huh!?" You rolled your eyes and nodded sarcastically; taking the blanket from the end of the bed, figuring he wouldn't miss it since he was so fucking hot. With only your phone and charger, you went out to the living room and crashed on the couch; covering up and crying quietly into a pillow from the overwhelming stress built in your chest. You felt guilt plunging your stomach, tearing it apart; feeling as if it were your fault for having physical touch as a love language.
Sleep evaded you that night. About an hour before your alarm, you called in sick and shut your phone off, resettling in misery as Carmy left the bedroom for work. You didn't move, never opened your eyes. However, they popped open in surprise when Carmen shoved your shoulder, "Hey."
"What?" You muttered.
"You're late for work."
"Called in."
He snorted, "Yeah, must be nice."
You didn't say anything else, feeling utterly defeated by his sharp words. The lack of response made Carmy pause and glance over at you from the kitchen, honest surprise coloring his system because he usually knew you to bite back. But you were quiet and still, the only indication you were even alive being the slow drag of your shoulders.
He let the door slam after he left for work, and you instantly sobbed. What you didn't know was that Carmy had come back, forgetting something mundane, and came to a halt outside the door when he heard you crying. He felt guilty, but Carmy wasn't usually one to confront problems; he instead ran away, like always.
After a night of exhaustion, you finally cry yourself to sleep.
When Carmy got home that night after work, he found you still huddled on the couch. After a look around, he realized you hadn't moved all day; nothing to eat, nothing to drink... He wanted to wake you but still felt so fucking irritated from his job that the idea of reconciling with you felt far fetched. So, he did what he did best and isolated himself by going to the gym for a few hours.
You still hadn't woken up when he got back.
So, he just went to bed; hating sleeping alone but hating his pride more because it refused to let him get up and go get you. Carry you to bed. Smother you in apologies. Beg for forgiveness. He was cold that night.
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You were awake around 4 am.
The entire apartment felt as cold and aloof as your boyfriend. You felt so silly for still being there, knowing you paid for an apartment of your own, but liking that Carmy's place was closer to your work. And he never asked you to leave, in fact, the times you went home, he was calling you within hours to beg you to come back because he hated sleeping alone.
Whatever happened to that lad? The one who was so in-love with you that he would desperately ask you to come "home" to him? Who was this man now? Who called you clingy, desperate... A bitch.
You could only stand to make coffee, feeling powerless in this tension. You didn't want him to ignore you any longer, feeling like you'd drop to your knees for his forgiveness if it would end this feud; but you weren't so naïve. You spent several long minutes mentally prepping yourself for more anxiety, telling yourself you could handle the day if you just powered through it. Everything should be fine so long as you didn't do anything else to upset him, as long as you didn't do anything to warrant him yelling at you - again.
You finally decided on an emotion, since you could feel so many at any given point in time, and since this situation was one you've never encountered before. Carmy had brought forth one of your biggest insecurities and then smashed it in your face like punk-ass siblings did to your birthday cake. You decided you were hurt by his words, tone, and actions; you were hurt by the man you loved unconditionally, and that was a terrifying thought on its own. He was once a man you thought couldn't do any wrong, to now being a man you were unsure of how to even speak to; fearful, as you once were as a child, to upset him and create hostility directed at you.
Carmy often forgot he didn't have a monopoly on toxic, complicated family dynamics, but being that Mikey was still so fresh for him, you kept quiet about your own issues in an effort to be a loving, supportive girlfriend. Yet even while trying not to upset anyone, to create tension, you somehow managed to. You felt your heart and soul shrivel into a withered raisin when you remembered your family and how they constantly put you down; saying that nobody wanted a girl like you who tried, tried, and tried again only to fail. They thought you were damaged goods, treated you as such and always smeared your name in the mud whenever you thought you had found someone to love you and be loved by you.
All that trauma was rearing its ugly head now, making doubt sink into the cracks of your relationship. No matter how hard he tried, Carmy couldn't ever take those words back once they've been said, and he had to understand that going forward, this would strain your relationship. Taking anger and frustration out on you was inappropriate, putting a bad taste in your mouth; making you wonder how the hell you'd ever move past this when his words circled your head like water draining from the sink.
Sometime around 9 am, you were curled up on the couch with your coffee and a book; Saturday dragging by slowly to allow you the reprieve of being off work. The bedroom door opened and you held your breath; sweat breaking out on your brow; heart stammering in your chest. When he came out, Carmy didn't look at you, which allowed you to watch him. He made a to-go cup of coffee, then shouldered his backpack before heading for the door.
"Carmy?" You asked softly in confusion, "I thought you were off today?"
"I am," he replied stiffly, "but I gotta run errands."
You didn't have time to respond before he was storming out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. You blinked in shock, confusion plunging your heart to your feet as you realized he didn't ask you to join him, in fact, he didn't appear to want to tell you his plans until you had to ask directly when he was walking out the door. You felt terrible, more tears swelling in your eyes at the discord your boyfriend prolonged.
Something in your heart snapped and you stood from your seat. With anger coursing through your veins, you turned into a miniature tornado and quickly started gathering whatever you could get your hands on that belonged to you. You had enough, you felt hurt, yes, we established this, but then the disrespect started to overflow out of your heart to color your blood. Never linger where you're not wanted, you should never tear yourself down to that level. Never should have to second guess yourself, either - especially in a space where you're supposed to be safe.
You started to wonder: is it clingy if you made dinner and saved him a plate? Is it clingy if you did his laundry? What about cuddling? Is that clingy? Well, apparently! What else are you wrong about? If you texted him? Asked his opinion? What about if you held his hand - is that clingy, too? Probably!
Physical touch and quality time were your love languages, but after this reaction, you wondered if everything you'd do from now on would be judged? Would you be crucified for showing your love? For trying to participate in your relationship?
All day, you moved your stuff back to your apartment. All shoes, clothes, purses, make-up, haircare and skincare products - any and all period products, too. You left fucking nothing; going as far as to lay face-down the photo of your two on his bedside stand. You'd of taken it, too, but you felt sick at the thought so you left it for him. Sunday night, you didn't return to his apartment, and Carmy didn't call to say goodnight; both figuring the other was still pissed off. Your Monday was long and annoying, but once it was over, you had to admit, it was strange returning to an empty apartment, heat up leftovers, eat while watching some Netflix show, and then crashing into bed - moving mechanically.
Days passed uneventfully, albeit, a bit sluggishly. And then, Thursday arrived, and with it, the shit that would hit the fan.
You were enraptured in this book by Anne Tyler called "Dinner At The Homesick Restaurant," and couldn't stop reading it. You nursed a mug of tea, the outside darkening with an approaching thunderstorm that would talk to you in the silence and send bolts of lightning to illuminate the city. A shrill ringtone then played, making you jump slightly and glance at your phone only to see Carmy's contact name and photo.
You stare at your phone for a long moment, and then, after convincing yourself that ignoring him would only add fuel to the fire, answered quietly, "Hello?"
"Peach? Hey, uh... Are you, um, still at work?"
"No?"
"Where are you, then?"
"I'm home."
"No, you're not."
"Yes, I am."
"I'm standing right here and you're not, baby, unless you got superpowers or something?" He chuckled nervously, hearing nothing on your end. "In fact, I, uh... I don't see any of your things. You move 'em?"
He'd never admit it, but your personal touch in his living space transformed it into a home; and now that they were all gone, he hated how cold, dreary, and grey the apartment felt.
"Carmy, I mean my home. You know? The apartment I still pay for?"
"Oh, well... Why're you there?"
"Why wouldn't I be? I had to bring my stuff back and leave it somewhere safe."
"It was safe here, Peach," he argued.
"Yeah, but it's your space and last thing I need is to be yelled at and insulted again for being clingy 'cause I left clothes at your apartment."
"Fuc'k's sake," You heard him hiss under his breath, bringing tears to your eyes. "You know I don't mind, I want you to leave shit here so it's easier on you to commute. Look, you know it's Thursday, right? Does our standing date night ring any bells?"
"Okay, but we haven't honored that in weeks? You know, 'cause you've been really busy."
"I thought we could get back into it tonight."
You sighed, turning the page in your book, "No, I don't think so, but thanks anyway."
He took a long pause, asking nervously, "What's wrong, Peach?"
"Nothing. Is there anything else, Carmen? I'm in the middle of shit."
"Oh, uh, n-no, I guess that's it. You comin' over tomorrow?"
"No. I told my brother I'd help him this weekend."
"But tomorrow's... Friday?"
"Yeah, that's how a calendar works. I have to travel to get to him," you scoffed.
"You didn't think to tell me?"
"Why would I?"
"You tell me everything! You don't think that's something I should know? That my girl's not even gonna be here this weekend?"
"Well, you're the one who said I was fucking clingy, remember!?" You finally snapped. "So, I'm giving you all that space you wanted!"
"Baby - "
"No, it's a great idea. We need space, Carmen; this isn't fair to either of us anymore," you spoke seriously, the line going quiet.
"What?"
"We need space from this relationship."
"I don't. I don't need space, Peach, baby, no, just listen, okay? I'm so sorry, I came home stressed out and I took it out on you. I'm sorry, I really am, this isn't what I want. Okay? I'm sorry. Just - come back home and we can - "
"No, you know what? I think I'm the one who needs this space," you snapped. "You said some pretty fucked up things, Carmen, that you can't ever take back, and now that I know, I can't un-know what you think about me. So, I need time to sort myself out."
"What're you saying? A-Are you breaking up with me?"
"Not yet, no."
"Baby, don't do this. C'mon, okay? I'm sorry, baby, I-I-I was wrong for what I said, I didn't - I didn't mean it! None of it, okay? Know I love you, baby, please, just come home, okay? I'm so sorry, I love that you wanna be close to me, I shouldn't've pushed you away. I'm sorry, okay? Please, baby, I'm so sorry. I need you, Peach, please. Just come home, we'll talk it through, I promise, no yelling - "
"I think you already said it all. Your words were 'clingy' and 'desperate'. Oh, and you also called me a 'bitch', so, I'd hate to be the bitch that makes your already stressful life all the harder."
"I didn't mean that - "
"I gotta go, Carmen, we'll talk later, okay? Goodnight."
He froze when he listened to those three distinct beeps that indicated you hung up on him. Confusion and hurt now seeped into the cracks of Carmy's heart; wondering when the hell he'd become so Goddamn self destructive to ruin the best thing he's ever had - you. The apartment might as well turned into ice with the way the light left, your departure suddenly haunting him.
When will these boys learn? The love of a good woman is rare, they'd only ever be so lucky as to think they deserve a woman like you. Nobody ever gets to guilt you for your love language(s) and then grovel for forgiveness. You deserve better, you deserve more; whether you could see that right now or not, you deserved to be loved in the best way for you. And sometimes, that means walking away from something you once thought was exactly what you wanted, but perhaps, never what you needed - call that God's Plan.
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[ part two: ] Two to Tango
requesting rules and masterlist
The Bear masterlist
Clingy Baby collection masterlist
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torialefay · 2 months
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You Know Whose You Are 👀
hyunjin x gn!reader smut
✨ friends to lovers trope 🔞
✨ request: "Hi!! For your smut prompts can I pls request Hyunjin & 24 (Hyunjin being the jealous one)? Maybe enemies to lovers or friends to lovers scenario? And for the actual p-in-v part can he fck reader holding her up against the wall (like her back against the wall and legs around his waist position)? Sorry if this is a lot, I’m on my period and I’m having many specific thoughts lmao. Thank you!! 🥰🤍" -anon
✨ word count: ~3.5k
✨ warnings: porn with a plot; minors dni!
• you and hyunjin had become close friends quite a while ago.
• he quickly became one of your closest friends after you'd met him in a bookstore after first arriving to korea.
�� while keeping your eyes fixated on the rows of books next to you, you accidentally ran straight into his chest.
• after quickly apologizing to him, you both struck up a conversation about your favorite books & authors. you had no clue who he was, and he liked that about you.
• a real friend.
• since that day, you'd messaged back and forth a lot, hung out almost on a routine basis, and made lots of fun memories.
• after a while, you eventually found out he was an idol (it was bound to happen with his weird "work schedule" he always had), but it didn't matter. he was the same hyunjinnie that you'd built a solid friendship with over the past few weeks.
• but that was the problem- you didn't want it to be just a friendship.
• and who could blame you? hyunjin was the most amazing, kind, intelligent person you'd ever met. you had more in common with him than even your very best friend. it was only natural to develop those feelings for him.
• but you knew the feelings weren't reciprocated.
• he'd never made so much as a subtle hint that he was interested in you as more than a friend... and let's be honest, he was basically the most wanted guy in all of korea. how could you compete with all these other beautiful people?
• so you didn't even let your mind wander to that extreme. you accepted the fact that he'd be nothing more than a friend to you, no matter how much you knew it could have worked out.
• "my best friend", you'd learned to teasingly call him. and soon, even you started to believe it. only that.
• one day, you'd gone over to hyunjin's apartment. he mentioned that he wanted to repaint the walls in the living room, so you offered up some of your free time to help him out.
• it wasn't super often that you came to his apartment. only a couple of times. you'd usually only gone out to do things together like go to a new art gallery or to grab coffee and talk about life. cutesy little things.
• you weren't the most familiar with his apartment, but that didn't matter much as you quickly settled in. you placed your phone in the kitchen to blare music, then headed to the living room to help coat the walls with a fresh set of paint.
• it did take a bit longer than you thought, but you didn't mind. when you and hyunjin were together, you always had fun, taking little jabs at each other and laughing to funny stories you had. the time always seemed to melt away.
• after a couple of hours, your playlist turned off. you guessed it had run out of songs.
• "jinnie, could you get a new playlist going on my phone?" you held your hands up, covered in paint. "i think it'd take me a while to do it."
• he laughed, realizing how messy you were compared to him.
• he didn't need to say anything, just got up and walked over to the kitchen, which was only a few steps away.
• as he went to tap the screen, a notification popped up... from one of hyunjin's life-long friends.
• the two of you had met a week or so ago when hyunjin invited him to go to a poetry reading with the two of you. his friend, ha-joon, wasn't necessarily as into the activity as the two of you were, but hyunjin felt bad canceling his original plans with him when he'd found out the event was happening and really wanted to go.
• and now... he was texting you?
• he read the message as it splayed across the screen:
Ha-Joon: Excited to see you tomorrow :) What are you doing?
• it's not that you were very enamored by ha-joon when you first met, but he seemed like a nice enough guy. plus he was friends with jinnie, so you figured he couldn't be too bad. when he messaged to ask if you'd be interested in going out with him, you thought you'd give it a shot. it's not like you had any other romantic prospects.
• "what's your password? i'll flip to a different playlist," hyunjin raised his voice, trying to act non-chalant. he silently thanked the fact that he was just out of sight.
• "2-7-4-4-1-2" you said back to him.
• he quickly scrolled through the playlists and chose one, letting the music blast through the speaker once again.
• "i'm gonna get a drink, do you want one?" hyunjin lied, going to open up the messages on your phone.
• "yeah, i'll take a water if that's okay?"
• "sure, i'll get it in just a sec." he started to sound nervous as he clicked to ha-joon's name on your phone. dang, texts going back to the beginning of the week. he quickly scrolled through to find quite a few message exchanged between the two of you. he scrolled back to the conversation that started last night.
Ha-joon: This might be a little bold, but I'd really like to get to know you more. Not just through texting. Would you want to grab a coffee sometime? Just you and me?
Sure! That'd be really fun :)
Ha-joon: Are you free sometime tomorrow?
I'm not really sure yet. I'm going to help Hyunjin paint. How about we just plan for the next day?
Ha-joon: Sounds good to me!
Ha-joon: Hyunjin will be okay with this, right? With us meeting up?
I don't see why not. He'd probably be happy about introducing us!
Ha-joon: Okay, I just didn't know if I should let him know or not is all.
Ahh that's okay. I don't think we need to rope him into any of this unless things go well between us ☺️
Good plan. I'm excited to see you!
Same here :) Text me tomorrow and let me know where you want to meet up.
Will do! Sleep well 😊
• hyunjin felt his heart break. he knew he had no right to. but he couldn't help it.
• of course he harbored feelings for you. how could he not fall for the one girl he ever felt like truly "got" him?
• but he hadn't wanted to tell you. not yet. he didn't want you to think that was the only reason he kept hanging out with you. he genuinely LOVED being around you. he was himself when he was with you. and he was so scared he'd lose that if he told you.
• but he hadn't said anything. so he couldn't be upset.
• he mentally kicked himself for introducing you to ha-joon.
• he thought on it for a bit as he reached into the fridge to grab a bottle of water for you. he quickly exited out of the app as he rested your phone back on the table to play the music.
• the upbeat tunes coming out completely mismatched what he was feeling in the moment.
• he stood for a moment, then walked back to the living room, where he saw you sitting cutely on the floor, knees bent criss-crossed as you painted the bottom of the wall carefully.
• suddenly, he started to think about how lucky he felt with this sight in front of him. and how he didn't want another man to be able to see you like this: hair tied up, sitting contently on the floor, completely covered in paint, looking so happy just to be there while bopping your head to the beat without a worry in the world.
• he wanted that. he wanted you. and suddenly, he saw red.
• he leaned against the door frame, now subconsciously squeezing the bottle of water in his hand.
• "y/n, can you come over here for a minute?" he said, voice now full of authority. his face looked annoyed, as he looked off, not able to focus his eyes on you.
• you looked at him confused for a moment, then carefully stood up, walking over to him wondering what was wrong all of a sudden.
• "what is it?" you asked, looking up at him innocently. you could tell something had him deeply bothered.
• his jaw clicked for a moment before he finally looked at you.
• "why didn't you tell me you were going out with my best friend?"
• the question caught you off guard.
• "were you going through my phone?" you asked. you didn't mean to sound accusatory, but that's how it came out.
• "i didn't mean to, but there it was." he looked down at you, not backing down.
• "i mean, yeah, he invited me to get coffee... is it a big deal? i thought you'd be happy if maybe we started seeing each other."
• "well, i'm not."
• "look jinnie, i'm sorry. maybe i should have told you, but i didn't think you'd care. surely he's a good person if he's your friend. and i'd like to think i'm a good person, so it just-" suddenly, he cut you off.
• "it's not about being a good person, y/n!" he began to raise his voice. "what about me?!"
• "what about you?" you asked, voice full of confusion.
• "i like you, goddamn it! give me a chance, not him!" he was full on yelling now, pressing himself up against you. suddenly, you felt small, but so fucking smitten at the same time. hyunjin actually liked you? this whole time?
• your head started spinning. it was just... it was a lot. you began to slowly move back from him a bit.
• "jinnie... i don't... i don't know what to say."
• he followed your path, pushing his body forward toward yours. you were about to be trapped in against the freshly painted wall behind you. you had no where else to go without ruining the wall.
• "say you'll let me take you out. not him." his eyes were trying to tell you something, but you couldn't quite pinpoint what. you'd never seen him like this.
• "i can't just do that to him... i mean he's your friend and i don't want to make things weird and i didn't know you even thought about me-" you were just rambling at this point before hyunjin cut you off.
• "i don't give a fuck if he's my friend. i wanted you first." he pushed his body right against yours, your front feeling him completely. he aligned his face perfectly in front of yours.
• "for how long?" you asked meekly.
• "since i first saw you." he let his eyes wander down to look at your lips before coming back up to focus on your eyes.
• being so close to you, he lightly closed his eyes, letting his lips linger next to you. "give me a chance first. if you don't like it, you can go to him... but i want you more than he does. i promise you that."
• goose bumps popped up along your skin. you couldn't believe he was actually into you. it was actually such a shock, you almost didn't even let your mind think on it. you'd wanted it so bad and suppressed it for so long. you didn't even know what to think. so you remained quiet, just pondering on what you could say.
• "let me show you," he whispered into your ear, getting too impatient to wait for your response. "let me show you how good i could be to you."
• again, you couldn't muster up words. you were so shell-shocked, you didn't even know where to start.
• he leaned into your ear, his breath hot over top of you.
• seductively, he whispered into you, "just tell me to stop," before planting a slow kiss to the side of your neck, at the sensitive spot right below your ear.
• you let out a slight moan at the unexpected sensation. you felt the hairs on your body start to stand up.
• hyunjin smiled and moved his small kisses along your jaw and cheek, then planting straught onto your lips.
• he wasted no time in deepening the kiss, running his hands through your hair until he was holding the back of your head in one hand and squeezing your jaw with the other. he wanted full control of you.
• he moaned as you slipped your tongue into his mouth, giving him access to enter inside your mouth too.
• as you smiled into him, he walked you back until you were pressed up against the wet wall. to hell with it.
• you continued grappling at each other, shoving tongues down throats like horny teenagers. you couldn't help it. this was all you'r ever wanted.
• until you started feeling hyunjin slightly buck his hips into yours. you felt his bulge grind the tiniest bit against you, turning you on with the gentlest touch.
• he let out a small chuckle as you moaned at the sensation.
• he kept sucking on your tongue, harder and harder as he more fervently grinded himself into you. you could feel him getting rock hard against you. and fuck did it feel so good. you couldn't help but pant, and run your hands along his body, desperate to grapple onto whatever you could.
• you pulled on his collar, pushed your hand up his shirt to run along his abdomen, tugged on his waist band- anything and everything you could cling to in order to feel closer to him.
• and he reciprocated fully. he moved his hand around your jaw to secure your face down against the wall, pinning you back hard. his mouth never disconnected from yours as he used his other hand to run along your body. down your neck, around your boobs, down your stomach, down to wear he ground against you, hoping to make brief contact with you before taking his hand around your waist to grab your ass.
• you moaned loudly as he shoved his tongue deep into your mouth and grabbed a handful of your ass with a harsh squeeze. the slight pain felt too fucking good to not yell out about.
• your noises only agged him on more.
• he pulled his mouth off of yours for a split moment.
• "let me take these off?" he asked hungrily, pulling at the top of your leggings.
• you didn't have to respond, you quickly yanked the fabric down, along with your underwear and ripped them from your feet and to the side.
• he smiled down at the sight, loving how willing you were to give into him.
• he connected his mouth back to yours as he followed suit and hastily unbuttoned and slid down his pants and boxers.
• when he was done, he grunted as he felt himself now unclothed, finally getting some friction against you.
• you couldn't contain yourself as you heard him grunt for you. you quickly pulled your hand up to your mouth, spitting into it quickly before bringing it back down to stroke hyunjin's cock.
• "ah fuck," he let out, letting himself grow harder and harder. this was the hardest he'd ever been.
• a wave of aggression came over him as he started to feel territorial. he brought a hand around your neck to give it a tight squeeze.
• "faster," he instructed. he reached his hand down to toy with you too, slowly working up pace.
• you felt yourself becoming more deprived of oxygen as you pumped your hand along him, going down to his tip. when he wasn't satisfied, he rested his forehead on yours and began thrusting his cock into your hand, throwing out grunts as he went. he kept working at your hole until you were lightheaded and writhing underneath him.
• he smiled and let out a little laugh as he released the pressure from your neck to let you gasp for air. you felt light-headed and needed to come back down. but hyunjin didn't let up.
• "let me fuck you." it was more of a demand than a question, but you didn't fight it. you slowly nodded from underneath him.
• he swiftly rand both hands down to your waist and then around your ass until they were resting behind your thighs.
• "jump," he instructed.
• you weren't sure about this. you'd never done it before. you were scared you'd fall and ruin the moment, but you decided to just put your trust into it. pushing your back against the wall, you threw your legs up as he guided them and secured them in place around his hips. he made sure to support the rest of you by keeping your back pressed tight to the wall.
• he used one hand to guide his dick to your entrance before steadily thrusting himself inside. it took your breath away at the sudden stretch and feeling of him inside of you. he didn't give you very much time to settle into it though as he started to fuck into you. hard and steady.
• his hand came back up to support under your thighs, securing you on top of him and pushing you back so your head was almost slamming into the wall as he pounded into you.
• you felt so good around him. so tight. squeezing onto him for dear life.
• he hungrily brought his mouth to your next as he sent fast, angry strokes into your. he guided his tongue around, planting sloppy kisses and fast, violent bites that made you scream out. he fucking loved it. he wanted to hear you scream. make you forget about any other man.
• "that's right baby, scream for me. you know whose you are," he growled. he was fucking you so hard you thought you'd pass out from the overstimulation of it all.
• you kept moaning for him, not knowing how to do anything else.
• before too long, you felt yourself start to pant harder, feeling hyunjin hit just the right spot. you started to grow warm inside, getting your breath taken away with each pounding.
• "jinnie," you breathed out, finally opening your eyes to see him with his eyes hyper focused on you, like he was ready to attack at any moment.
• you could only breathe heavily before repeating his name again. "jinnie, i'm gonna cum." you felt yourself reach a breaking point. it was coming. now.
• "that's fucking right. you're gonna cum for me right now... it's just me from now on. only me." he growled, fucking himself into you faster. "cum on me right fucking now!" he ordered, ramming into just the right spot to send you over the edge.
• you gasped as you threw your head back, beginning to spasm around his cock.
• "ahhh fuckkkkk, just like that," hyunjin mimicked you, throwing his head back now too. "fuck, fuck, fuck," he breathed out, slamming into you faster than ever.
• "ughhhhhhhhh," he yelled as you felt him release inside of you. you could feel yourself still shaking around him, not being given any sort of break.
• as he finished out his high, you wiped at the few tears that had built up in your eyes from the overstimulation.
• once hyunjin was done, he slowly lowered your legs off of his hips and set them back down on the floor, keeping his cock resting inside of you as he put you down.
• with you both now panting and trying to settle down, he just brought both hands up to cradle the sides of your face. he pushed himself a bit deeper inside of you, just enjoying the feeling of resting within you.
• he smiled down as he planted a soft kiss to your forehead.
• you smiled back up at him, placing your hands on his chest over his heart.
• "i think this is how we're meant to be," hyunjin said in a low voice.
• "i think so too," you grinned.
• he kept planting tiny kisses onto the same spot of your forehead. "tell me you aren't still going with him tomorrow."
• "of course not. i know whose i am." you gave him a quick wink.
-------------------------------------
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ciaraswritings · 1 year
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Unexpected.
Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their characters, or their settings. This is certainly not canon.
Warnings & Topics: Suggestive themes, emotional distress, physical exhaustion, pregnancy. 18+.
Word Count: 3.9K words
Summary: Batmom! reader finds out she is pregnant a short time after marrying Bruce Wayne, not in the most pleasant of ways. Telling him won't be easy, but Alfred gives her some encouragement.
Author's note: After four hours of work, I deem my first fanfiction suitable for posting. Thank you for all the support. I hope you enjoy.
It'd been two months since that beautiful, blissful, romantic day. Actually, two months, two weeks, and one day. But who was counting, right?
The newspapers were. Headlines of gossip news, huge block letters in bold, depicted that I had been spotted at the gym alone again, also describing their support for my "weight loss journey" since I had been "losing my figure". I had been reading this article over and over for about an hour. Damn. I inspected the black and white photo of myself in leggings and a tank top. The worst part about, well, everything, is that they were right. I was losing my figure, noticeably. 
I didn't even notice Alfred behind me until he spoke. "No matter how many times you read them, the words are not going to change, ma'am."
I jumped slightly. I hadn't been sleeping or eating well at all, my back and chest ached too much to relax, and heartburn hit me like a batarang after meals. I think I had gotten thirty hours of sleep in the last week, and maybe one meal a day. "Thank you, Alfred. Do you know when dinner will be ready?" 
"In a half hour, ma'am." The butler moved to the other end of the kitchen table to face me. "Those words in the paper are words that all who love you disagree with."
Alfred's words touched me if only a little, and I set down the paper. "Thank you, I think I'm going to take a walk." 
He looked concerned, but just for a moment. "Alright, ma'am. Try not to be late, the chicken may be devoured." 
Chuckling, I stepped out into the early evening light. I would not be late for dinner, living with five hungry men teaches you a lot. The sunlight embraced me, bathing me in its gentle rays, glimmering over my face. I felt positively glorious. Closing my eyes, I soaked it in. My husband would soon be home to kiss me and keep an arm around my waist. The simple thought of his touch made my mouth stretch into a smile. Five more minutes, and I'll go in. 
Five minutes turned into twenty. Being amongst the blooming flowers and the busy insects kept me occupied. Not only that, but a sudden headache had overtaken me. I sat in the grass, unladylike, watching the bees collect their last supply of nectar from the flowers for the day. Grass stains never bothered me anyway. I knew time was getting away from me, but I couldn't seem to bring myself to focus on anything. I didn't want to go inside because I didn't want bedtime to arrive. It was too painful to even think about. My head and back reminded me of that even now. 
My vision blurred slightly, I could only focus on a single flower on the bushes before me, bees continuing to fly around it. This was nice. I couldn't focus on a single thing, or think about anything, or worry.
I felt myself fall, sort of, to the ground. Fall was the best word I know to describe it. I was already sitting on the ground, but my muscles suddenly felt like pudding. My head bumped to the grass and laid to rest. Terror gripped my heart and throat for a single second before everything just... relaxed. My vision went next, but I was okay with that. This was so relaxing. I wanted to stay.
...
"Madam. Madam (Y/N)!" The voice came from... maybe a mile away. Maybe. Maybe ten miles. Maybe a hundred.
"(Y/N), madam (Y/N)!" Something cold was on my face. Ugh. I don't like that. The wind bit and stung at where the cold wetness was on my cheek. Ouch.
"Wake up, madam!" No. I don't want to. Go away. But the voice sounds scared.  
I slowly, slowly, with great effort, opened my eyes. Instantly they closed again. My friend the butler was hovering over me. What was his name again?
"Mom!" New voice. Go the hell away. I open my eyes again. 
"I'm here, I'm fine." Sitting up took much more strength than opening my eyes, but I managed to do so. Dick and Alfred worriedly stare at me. "I was just taking a nap."
"That wasn't a nap, it looked like you passed out." Dick was the one with the cold wet cloth. He put it to my head again. I gave him a withering glare, and he pulled it away again, looking apologetic. 
"It was a nap, of course I didn't pass out. Now let me return to it," I waved my hand in no particular direction, trying to shoo them away like mice.
"I am afraid I cannot allow you to sleep on the cold ground in nothing but your loungewear, ma'am." Alfred took the cloth from Dick and put it to my forehead. 
Lord, they were being so annoying, I just wanted to go back to sleep. My eyelids drooped and my words slurred. "Bed hurts too much right now... just come back later..." my head finally dropped forward as vision began to diminish again. 
I couldn't really tell what they said next. What I could remember was, "Inside now... call the... when they can see her..." and "...got her... go and tell him... I've got it..." 
The sensation of being lifted did not startle my dozing. Neither did the shouting, nor the feeling of hands on my face. I had earned this sleep, and I was going to... enjoy... it...
...
I was awake, but I didn't want to open my eyes. It wasn't time. Please don't let it be time. I peeked a glance at my watch. Eight in the morning on a Sunday? Yeah, back to sleep we go. 
Before I could return to my dreamless sleep, I became aware of unidentified breathing beside me. Was that Titus? Or maybe Alfred. Maybe I had been kidnapped. Did I care? Hell to the no. All I cared about at this present moment was slumber. If I was kidnapped, I could sleep all I wanted while I waited for them to rescue me.
Then, like a train, uninvited and on its own, the back pain hit my lower body. I couldn't help the moan of discomfort that tore from my throat.
Instantly, a hand went to my forehead. It felt so cold against my warm head. I'd better see who this person with the cold hands is and tell them to go stick their fingers in a campfire before touching me again.
 When I opened my eyes, I realized I wasn't even in the garden anymore. Alfred, I told you I wanted to stay on the ground. But it wasn't Alfred who had put freezing digits on my forehead. It was my husband, my dearest Bruce, my wonderful partner in... crime didn't seem like a good choice of words. His worried blue eyes bored into my sleep-deprived (Y/C) eyes. Ouch, that gaze made my headache come back.
"Hello. Go warm your hands up," I told the love of my life before closing my eyes again. The light from the window seemed to be penetrating my very brain. 
"My hands are warm," replied the bearer of freezing fingers.
"Please, feels like your hands went to the Artic circle for winter vacation." My stubborn retort took a lot out of me, but I could practically hear his small smile. 
"There's my girl," he murmured. I opened my eyes again to smile at my wonderful... freezing... man. 
"Yeahhh, your girl's going back to dreamland. Night night." I grunted at the pain stabbing me in the back, the throbbing in my head, and the emptiness in my stomach.
"Not yet, sweetheart. Stay right here. The doctor's going to be here at ten, you should freshen up a bit." 
I opened one eye to glare unhappily at him. "Don't need a doctor. Need a nap."
His chuckle annoyed me to the very core, almost scaring away the shooting pains in my back. "I'm sorry, but this needs to happen. Do you know how worried we all were when we heard you had fainted in the garden? The boys hardly wanted to go on patrol, they wanted to look after you."
"The boys didn't want to go on patrol? You didn't want to look after me?" I glared playfully at my handsome knight. "And I didn't faint... just took a nap."
"On the cold hard ground?" His questioning gaze made me open both my eyes.
"Yes, it felt nice on my back." 
"Does your back still hurt, sweetheart?"
"Yes, it still hurts." 
"And you didn't feel like sleeping in the bed?"
"The hell is this, an interrogation?" 
"Maybe," he grinned.
"Go away," I retorted, closing my eyes. "I have to go to work, no time for doctors."
"I called and told them you can't come in this week."
"This... this is why I married you."
It didn't take long to fall back into blissful, painless paradise. Bruce left me alone, but I knew he was close by, watching over me. The mansion was so quiet and peaceful, I knew the boys were fast asleep.
Much too soon, I was being kissed awake. 
"Darling, Doctor Thompkin's here. It's time to wake up." Bruce's forehead kisses were, for the very first time in our relationship, annoying. 
"Ugh." I rolled over to escape, my back cracking. 
"Upsy daisy." He stroked my back, gently massaging my painfully aching muscles.
Sitting up took all the strength I had, and yet I had to find more to answer the questionnaire the doctor was springing upon me. Bruce stepped out mid-examination to answer a phone call, leaving the woman to observe my body and take into consideration my answers to her questions. Her questions seemed endless. "Have you been out of the country in the last month?" 
"No."
"Have you been feeling depressed or hopeless?"
"No."
"Are you on any medications?"
"No."
"Do you or any family members have history of scoliosis?" 
"No."
"History of heartburn?"
"No."
"When was your last menstrual cycle?"
"It's marked on the calendar, couple pages back." 
"Do you know what year it is?"
I gave her a funny look. "Of course I do, what's wrong with you?" Now I feel bad for saying that, but I certainly didn't in the moment.
The doctor chuckled, her friendly eyes had laughter lines around them. "Just wanted to make sure you're still with me. Are you on birth control?"
"Yes."
"How long have you been on birth control?" 
"Couple months. I went on it during our honeymoon."
"During?"
"Yes, we realized condoms and plan B weren't as convenient as the pill."
"I'm going to need a blood sample and then we're done here. I'll be in touch with the results. You don't seem to be suffering from scoliosis, but I'll contact you about x-rays to confirm. I haven't made a house call in a long time, or practiced family medicine, but I'll do everything I can to make sure we get to the root of this."
"Okay." 
The blood draw seemed to take longer than I remembered blood draws taking. The prick of the needle didn't disturb the haze of sleepiness that still surrounded me. The woman's departure signaled another wave of sleepiness to wash over me. Bruce and Alfred were showing the doctor out as my head hit the pillow. Pain shot up my back, but sleep had already captured me. 
Tomorrow turned into today, and then today became yesterday. It felt like I slept the whole Monday, skipping work and family dinner. Tuesday morning came with sunshine and kisses from my darling husband as I slowly opened my eyes. 
"Hi," I smiled at him. One of Bruce's arms was holding me almost loosely as he lay next to me in the white sheets. He looked worn and tired from a long night of patrol. I sniffed him. Good, he had showered. 
"Hello." His tired kiss on my lips was slowly waking me. "I love you."
"I love you too," I told him. My smile was getting bigger and my world was waking up. I traced the shape of his exhausted eyes. "Close your eyes. Sleep." 
"Mmph." His eyes closed and his body relaxed under my touch. Normally, Bruce was the one to hold me tight and kiss me to sleep, to caress my body and keep me safe. Looking over his body, I realized that he had been through a difficult night of patrol. A stitched gash across his back, an unhappy bruise on his jaw, scratches on his forearms. Worrying about my "condition" probably hadn't helped him stay alert out there in the dangerous night of Gotham. Guilt washed over me. My arms protectively wrapped around my dearest husband, my lips pressing to his forehead. Today, I was going to keep him safe, I was going to comfort him through his slumber.
...
Bruce's snoring wasn't exactly a lullaby, so I was up and about after a few hours. The boys were crashed in their rooms and Alfred was busy baking something that smelled like chocolatey deliciousness. I was looking over the morning paper, again, skimming for any mention of my family or I. Unhealthy habit, you could say. I was curled up in an armchair next to the bed, keeping the rustling of the newspaper pages to a minimum.
Vibrations of Bruce's cell phone made me look up. As silently as I could, I leaped up and grabbed the phone from the bedside table on Bruce's side. My husband's sleep was important to me, and if I had it my way, nothing at all would disturb it, not even nightmares. 
I carried the cell phone out of the bedroom and glanced at the caller ID. Doctor Thompkins. Results. Yes. This wasn't the first time I had answered my husband's phone, so I wasn't going to feel guilt over finding out my own test results. "Hello?"
"(Y/N), hello. I'm calling with your results."
"Tim's been telling everyone in the family it's yellow fever, please prove him wrong."
"Hah, no, it is not yellow fever... I'd say it's something a little more... serious."
I stiffened. My aching back didn't like that. "What's up?"
"We spoke about your history with birth control, but we need to talk about it again. It would seem that there was some window of time where you and Bruce were not using protection."
My backache must've hit my brain, because looking back, I can't believe I didn't catch on. "Bruce gave me a disease?"
"Not a disease. You're pregnant, (Y/N). I can't make an estimate on how many weeks you are, but I'm going to give you the contact information for an OBGYN. Make an appointment as soon as you can. Congratulations, Mrs. Wayne."
...
When Bruce woke up, I had to apologize to him for his cracked cell phone screen. I told him the truth, that I'd dropped it, but I didn't explain that it was from shock. He told me it was alright, that he'd pick up a new one, but he wasn't quite sure why I looked so very upset over dropping his phone. That would explain itself in time.
I didn't eat a thing at dinner that night, despite my full plate and coaxing from my family. Even the finest cut of steak is unappealing when something like that is on one's mind.
Who wouldn't overthink a thing like this? Pregnant, after a literal two months of marriage? Pregnant, while caring for four boys that you saw as your sons? Pregnant, after your husband had told you he didn't want anymore children? Pregnant, after you had both tried to be careful? Pregnant, to one of the greatest vigilantes and most successful businessmen in the world? Pregnant. I am pregnant. I might have my husband's baby.
"Mom!"
My head jerked up and I was greeted by five concerned faces. 
"Ma, you look like you're in another world," Jason forked a piece of potato. 
"Maybe I am in another world, Jay-Jay." I smiled slightly before standing. Ten eyes observed my every move. 
"Ummi, where are you going?" Damian, the one who I expected would be the least concerned, watched me with huge, worried eyes. 
"I think I need to sleep more. I will see you all tomorrow morning." I kissed every head at the table, my lips lingering on my husband's forehead. He rested his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me down for a gentle kiss. I think he noticed my hesitance, but I didn't stop to think about it or explain. My back only permitted me to walk up the stairs, but if I could've run, I would've.
Once Bruce and the boys had left for their night of patrol, I breathed again. Laying on the bed, clutching my pillow to my chest, trying to rehearse how I would address the situation to Bruce, it took a lot out of me. "Bruce, I need to tell you something," I mumbled. "No... Bruce, we need to talk." 
"Madam, I am not sure if you have noticed, but Master Bruce is not here." Alfred's voice startled me for the second time this week.
"I wish he was. I'm sorry, I'm... practicing." I tried to give my friend a reassuring smile but it came out as a grimace. 
"Good luck, madam," Alfred set down a cup of tea on my bedside table and gave me a genuine Alfred smile. Before he was out of the room, he turned back and looked me dead in the eye. "Master Bruce loves you very much, Madam (Y/N). He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink." 
I looked straight back into this wonderful gentleman's eyes. "Thank you."
...
I tried to sleep through the night, I really did. When dawn and my boys arrived, I was still wide awake, not having slept a wink. I trotted down the stairs to the batcave, taking extra care not to trip. Once on the floor, we went through our post-patrol routine of inspecting each one of my boys. First Damian, who shrugged me off several times before allowing me to look over him, then Tim, who accepted my worrying for what it was, then Jason, who pretended to be annoyed for show, then Dick, who looked over me as carefully as I looked over him, then finally Bruce, who would not stop kissing me, barely giving me a chance to check him for injuries. 
No one was truly hurt, but all but one were tired as they pulled off their suits. The boys trudged upstairs to their rooms, but my husband carried me valiantly up the stairs to our place in the master bedroom, like a knight carrying his princess.
Once the bedroom door was shut and he had set me down, I was instantly on my back laying on the bed, Bruce's lips showing affection to my neck and collarbone. A soft, throaty moan left my mouth as my husband kissed me, his hands working their way over my body. I was clothed in my favorite outfit of a tank top and leggings, and I knew they were at risk of being torn from my torso and limbs if I allowed this to continue. Besides... I had to tell Bruce. 
"Darling..." the word I said was half-moaned. "Darling, please, you need to shower."
"I thought you liked my scent?" Bruce chuckled, looking up at me, his hands working their way up my shirt. 
"Mmm, I do, but you are going to dirty our sheets that Alfred worked so hard to wash." 
"You have a valid point, but I don't like it." Bruce grinned and pulled off the little clothing he wore. I chuckled and rolled my eyes, watching him make his way to the shower. If I hadn't had such a burden on my mind, I would've joined him. I could hear him muttering insults at the slippery bar of soap that his large fingers always seemed to have trouble grasping, and it made me smile. My hand absentmindedly rested on my stomach and I wondered if his child would have the same troubles as their father.
Bruce's shower was shorter than usual. Much shorter than if I had been in there with him. Chuckling, I made room for my knight in the bed. He hadn't bothered to put on clothes, or dry his hair. Bruce climbed on top of me, drops of water falling from his hair to my chest. His lips reattached to mine, devouring the kiss like a wild man. I knew what he had on his mind from the way he caressed my body, and I had to put a stop to it. 
"Bruce... Bruce, wait." 
Concerned eyes met mine. "(Y/N)?"
Alfred's words replayed in my mind. He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. I stared into the beautiful blue eyes I had grown to take comfort in. "Bruce, Doctor Thompkins diagnosed me."
Instantly, his desire was forgotten. Bruce sat back on the bed and pulled me onto his lap. "Tell me, darling, what is it?"
His arms made me feel so safe. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink. "I... you need to expect the unexpected."
"So I'm guessing it's not yellow fever, since that's what Tim expects," Bruce smiled. The gentle attempt at humor didn't lift the worry in his eyes. 
"Heh, no... not exactly. It's... it's a baby." The last three words were much quieter than the others. 
Bruce looked at me quizzically. "I don't think I heard you correctly." 
"A baby," I honestly voiced my diagnosis, somewhat fearfully looking into his eyes. "I'm pregnant."
Bruce's glare pierced mine. He gently slid me off his lap and set me on the bed before standing and walking to the window to silently stare out of it. His breathing had changed, his body was stiff, everything about him seemed cold and hardened. 
My worst fears bit and tore at my heart, anxiety gripping my throat like a murderer. Oh Lord, he doesn't want me anymore. I didn't know whether to go to him, or leave the mansion, or stay in the bed, or cry, or speak. So I just waited, for a full two minutes, staring at my husband's scarred back. After waiting that long, tears began to prick at my eyes. I finally laid down and curled into the cold sheets. "I'm sorry."
I heard him turn. "What are you sorry for?"
"Not paying attention to my birth control. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," my tears left wet spots on the pillowcase. I closed my eyes tightly. 
Then I felt his weight on his side of the bed, he was laying beside me. Bruce collected me into his arms, tilting my chin up, asking me silently to look at him. I opened my wet eyes. 
"I'm not angry with you. I'm thinking about it. Just let me think." Bruce's rough, calloused fingers brushed against my peach soft cheek.
"Okay." I closed my eyes to fight back angry, hot tears. He pulled me to his chest, holding me to himself. I could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. 
He must've held me like that for an hour before he finally, finally spoke. "Well, this isn't what I thought two months into our marriage would look like." 
My tears had left stains on his chest. Only a surge of bravery made me look up at him. "Yeah."
He looked down at me, smiled, kissed my lips, and I felt my husband's love course through my body. He may have turned me away physically, but he had never turned me away emotionally. I sat up on his lap, straddling him, my forehead resting on his, my hands on his cheeks. "I love you."
"And I love you," Bruce's fingers brushed against my waist. He seemed hesitant, and his eyes met mine. "May I?"
I was confused for a moment, but then I realized and nodded, beaming. "Yes."
His large hand rested on my stomach. The wheels in his head were still turning, but they had calmed, and they were only turning in the name of love. 
"Expect the unexpected." 
2K notes · View notes
stevesbipanic · 4 months
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@steddiemas Day 22: Santa Shenanigans
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Steve was going to kill Robin.
Well, not really because he doesn't think he'd survive more than a couple days without her. But he'd certainly be giving her the stink eye next shift for suggesting a secret Santa between the older ones of the party.
"We just rog it so that I get Vickie and she'll fall madly in love with me, it's a perfect plan Steve!"
To her credit it was an ok plan.
"Last week you spent an hour bemoaning the fact that she smiled at a boy."
"But yesterday she spent two hours studying with me in the library!"
Steve rolled his eyes at her shenanigans but agreed nonetheless. They drew names the next time they had all gone out for burgers at the diner. Steve tried not to make it obvious when he saw who his name was. Eddie.
Steve wasn't disappointed, no, far from it, he'd been hiding a crush on the older boy for a few months now, let's just say Eddie spent a lot of time by Steve's pool last summer. But now he felt the pressure to get him the perfect gift. The plan hadn't even worked for Robin.
"I got Argyle! Now how will I win her heart."
"Could always plant some mistletoe."
"You're a genius! Who'd you get."
"It's Secret Santa, Rob's, it's meant to be secret."
"Boo you're no fun, bet it's me."
It took Steve weeks to finish his gift for Eddie and Steve found himself hastily wrapping it the morning of their little Christmas party, grateful that Robin had thought of the plan well in advance otherwise he'd have never finished.
Steve greeted everyone and watched as they placed their secret Santa gifts under the tree. They ate, laughed and picked a Christmas movie to watch after presents. One by one they opened their gifts.
Nancy got Vickie some water colour paints.
Argyle got Jonathan rolls of fresh film.
Jonathan got Nancy some new notepads with larger covers.
Robin got Argyle a big bright tie dye shirt with Groovy printed on the front, he quickly put it over the sweater he was already wearing.
Vickie turned to Robin and Steve quickly saw her cheeks start to redden. She passed her the gift and Robin unwrapped a bag full of pins and badges.
"I've been collecting them for a few weeks for you from around town and around where I went to visit my grandma, thought your work vest needed some more fun ones."
Robin grinned widely at Vickie, the effort making a big impact on her. Steve knew he'd be hearing about it for weeks but he hoped the mistletoe in the kitchen sped things along.
Steve was about to give Eddie his gift when he realised that this meant Eddie also got him for Secret Santa. He turned to the metalhead to find him already shyly holding out a gift.
"It's not much but I hope you like it, Stevie."
Steve unwrapped the small package to find a collection of mixtapes inside, Eddie's handwriting clearly scribbled on the side.
"I started making a mixtape of songs that made me think of you but U ran out of room on the first one and might've gotten carried away," he said shyly scratching his neck.
Steve glanced over the names of the songs and it was clear that the majority of them certainly wouldn't remind someone of their dear platonic friend. Steve smiled softly at him and passed him his gift.
"I think I know what you mean."
Eddie slightly confused at the statement unwrapped the gift, his mouth forming a small o looking inside. He took out the book, a worn copy of The Hobbit that Steve had thrifted as soon as he knew Eddie was his secret Santa.
"Stevie, you know I've got this one, it's my favourite," he said slightly awkwardly.
"Look inside."
Eddie slowly opened the book to see small dribbles of ink between the words. The handwriting clearly Steve's. As he flicked through he saw Steve's thoughts spilling into almost every page.
"It's your favourite and you're always wanting me to read it so I did, I thought it'd be fun if you saw exactly what I thought of it."
Eddie's eyes caught on one of the words near the end, a small red shape next to them, yeah, he thinks he and Steve are on the same page, but he'd wait until the end, no spoilers early after all.
"I love it, Stevie, thank you."
As Steve sat curled up next to Eddie on the couch watching the film he too had the same thought, definitely on the same page.
Ao3
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ikarakie · 1 year
Text
part 1
eddie wakes up.
he doesn't expect to. not on earth, anyways. but he does, in a hospital bed, to dustin's scolding and the girls' smiles. he's told they won, vecna's dead. the government are working on clearing his name as they speak as a fucked up 'thank you', and everything is fucking okay.
he asks after red and the sinclairs. apparently, they had a run-in with asshole of the century jason carver, but sinclair had held his own with a mean right hook that harrington had taught him once. max had fought vecna off with the help of supergirl, who'd come into her mind at the last second via shenanigans that eddie didn't understand. though he was assured he'd have the story told to him by mike himself, since he, supergirl, and the byers' were on their way in from california.
everyone's crowded around his bed, minus one very pretty head of hair, firing off their accounts. robin's partway through how the vines had attacked them when it happens.
"and then they grabbed me and slammed me against the wall! so steve-" and she hesitates. widens her eyes and a looks a bit nauseous all of a sudden. eddie feels his stomach sink.
"hey, speaking of harrington, where is he?" he asks, hoping to fucking god it's not what he thinks. though the way the room falls silent, the way dustin's suddenly holding his hand a lot tighter, makes his eyes water.
"he got you out." henderson whispers, sounding so very broken. "he- he carried you back to the gate and sent you through, but it- it was closing." he's biting his lip so hard he draws blood.
"he... he's still there?" eddie asks, breathless, horrified. the image of steve harrington hauling his ass out of that backwards hell dimension only to get stuck there himself makes his head spin. robin breaks down next to him, bringing her legs to her chest on her chair. nancy puts an arm around her shoulder.
"he made sure we all got through first." she says, deceptively even. eddie can see how tense her shoulders are, and he gets it. because, for fucks sakes, of course he sent the girls and henderson through first. "i think... i think he didn't want to risk coming through when it was so nearly closed. so he stayed."
eddie takes a second. looks around the room, at everyone's sullen faces. wonders why steve thought his was the life to save instead of his own, when all these people loved him so fucking dearly. eddie liked robin, and he liked max, and nancy, and the little sinclair, but they were more steve's people than his. and yet the guy, for whatever fucking reason, thought eddie, who was barely clinging on to begin with, was the one who deserved to live?
if you told him three months ago that he'd be sat in a hospital bed, having been dragged back from the edge of death by steve harrington, who'd fucking sacrificed himself to do so, he would've laughed. even more, if you told him that, in that position, eddie's heart ached with affection for the guy, he would've punched you. probably.
not that his puppy crush on steve was a recent development, but this whole... seeing him in action thing had just exacerbated it. especially with all those lingering looks they'd shared. semi-flirty words and little signals that eddie forced himself not to read into. but now he wished he had. wished he'd said what he'd meant to, that last time they saw each other.
"it's okay, though." dustin said, breaking the silence. "because when el comes back, she'll just open a gate, and we can go and get him." he sounds so sure, that for a moment, eddie thinks he's right, but the way nancy sighs indicates this is an issue.
"we'd like to do that." she says, "but... we don't know if vecna dying means... the upside down did, too." god, she was right. what if it'd all collapsed in on itself? robin sobs harder, shaking her head, and eddie puts a hand on one of her knees. wishes, not for the first time, that steve was here, to hold her. instead of- of- wherever he was.
the next week and half passes in a blur. eddie gets discharged, despite everyone's protests, and just told he needs to rest while he heals. they all set up camp in steve's house, which feels fucking weird, but dustin reasons that they need to all be together to form a plan, to watch eddie, and robin had a key anyways, and the place was massive, and it's not like steve ever minded. (the 'when he was alive' goes unspoken. they don't want to talk like that, not yet.)
it's one more week before mike and his little crew get back. apparently, they got caught in some government bullshit that'd held them up, but they return with joyce byers and a back-from-the-dead chief hopper, so that's cool. there's hugs and reunions and stories are exchanged. when the bit about steve getting stuck in the upside down comes up, eddie sees how will byers' face falls. remembers dustin saying he'd been trapped there once, too, and supposes it's sympathy.
chief hopper looks ready to tear the whole place apart. he'd asked after steve the second everyone had gathered, strangely terrifying for a man who was skin and bones. he'd only settled and listened to the story after being assured steve wasn't dead. (not that they... actually knew that, but no one wanted to say it out loud again).
supergirl, eleven, wasted no fucking time. she grabbed a radio and a piece of fabric and apparently began 'searching for steve in the void'. though eddie didn't quite understand, he held his breath alongside everyone else. only relaxing when she smiled, and said, albeit a little wobbly: "he is alive. he is okay."
robin's sobs would probably be with him till the day he died. she'd collapsed into joyce byers' arms, mumbling incoherently. dustin wasn't any better, crying into will's shoulder.
after some safety briefings, and a begruding blessing from hopper, supergirl opened a gate in steve's living room and fucked off through it. eddie was astounded at the ease with which she entered the dimension. will explained that, because vecna was dead, it didn't 'feel as bad anymore'. though he still held mike's hand tightly and sat as far away from it as possible.
and so the waiting game began. they tried to make small talk, tried to keep the mood light, but the whole thing weighed heavy on them. watching the gate to hell that they'd just sent a little girl through, wishing every second she'd come back in one piece.
it was maybe fourty five minutes later when max perked up. they all turned to the gate at her movement, and sure enough, there they were.
he was pale, and tired looking, covered in some sort of goop or slime or something. holding eleven's hand the whole time- though for who's benefit, eddie wasn't sure. he stumbled a bit as he stepped through the gate and still, still, turned to help el through. though he was a bit slimmer, and clearly weary, it was him, it was steve, and he was alive.
robin was on him in seconds. screaming, clinging to him and asking him 'how dare you? how fucking dare you? never do that to me again, you piece of shit! i love you so much, you can't do that!' he buried his face in her shoulder and swayed slightly as he held her. murmuring things eddie couldn't hear. dustin wasn't far behind, squeezing between them and similarly blubbering. steve was hugging them both and gazing at them- at everyone who was crying- with such wonder. like he couldn't believe he'd been missed that much.
one by one, everyone had their fill. max whacked him on the arm and then hugged him so tightly it looked like it hurt. nancy brushed his hair back out of his eyes and called him an idiot. joyce byers gently wiped his face of dirt and grime before kissing his cheek. chief hopper held him like a father, strong and tight.
eddie sat back, just watched. wondered how someone could be so loved and not feel worth it at all.
then steve's eyes settled on him. they brightened, almost sparkled. "eddie!" he called. his voice was rough from disuse, but still sounding so relieved and happy it made eddie falter. he stepped forwards, feeling steve's dazzling smile pull the corners of his own mouth upwards. "you're okay!"
then he had an armful of steve harrington, and it all came flooding out. he felt a bit foolish, but only until he realised steve was crying too. "you... asshole." he muttered, holding him as tightly as his strength would allow.
"i told you not to be fucking hero." steve huffed, though it lost any of it's power with how his voice wobbled. "i thought you died, i thought-"
"you're one to fucking talk!" eddie cried, pulling away just enough to look him in the eye. "i woke up and you- they told me you dragged my ass outta there and then stayed behind! no one knew what had happened to you, it's been weeks, steve! i couldn't- why would you do that? why would you not just leave me-"
"i couldn't leave you!" god, he sounded so offended at the very idea. eddie felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest. "i couldn't- i wouldn't do that-"
"i know you wouldn't." eddie lamented, because fuck, he did. he knew deep down even if he had died there, outside his trailer to those bats, steve still would've brought him home. "doesn't make it any less stupid. just makes you- makes you so-"
it hit him how close they were. probably an inch, maybe less, between their faces.
"makes me so what?" steve asked, a little breathless. eddie gazed at him, deciding that: fuck it. he'd be too close to death to not... see if whatever he thought they had was real. he sent a mental prayer to a god he didn't really believe in anymore: please, let him not have read this wrong.
he looked to steve's lips. pointedly. watched how his cheeks flushed and a shy smile crept onto them. how his eyes flickered down to eddie's as well. there was a silent, shared understanding: if we were alone right now, i'd like to have kissed you.
"so... stupidly perfect, steve harrington." eddie muttered, undeniably affectionate, pulling him in for another embrace. tucked his face into his neck so he could whisper. "you can't save someone's life and then die before they can tell you thank you." steve melted under his touch, pressing a kiss to where his shoulder met his neck under the safety of eddie's hair. it made him warm, and giddy, and so very fucking thankful.
"you can tell me now." he whispered back. eddie couldn't help but smile again. he'd tell him anything if he asked like that.
"thank you, steve." he muttered, squeezing him slightly. hoping his touch communicated what he needed it to: please, please, please don't leave me again.
"anytime, eddie." steve whispered back, hands balling into the fabric of the shirt eddie wore. i won't, as long as you don't either.
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heart2beom · 1 year
Text
a lost bet!
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pairing: frenemy!beomgyu x reader
genre: fluff, comedy
summary: you lose a bet to beomgyu and out of everything you'd think he'd ask of you -- money, to pour freezing water on yourself out in the snow, hell, you thought it'd be more likely for him to ask you to jump off a cliff and survive than telling you to take him out on a date.
word count: 2.2k
notes: cheesy stuff but if you read it till the end, a heart is always appreciated :') if you read it and liked it, please reblog ˃̵ᴗ˂̵
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there are people who would be described as two peas in a pot, the half of the other, siblings from another mother -- the idea that they complete each other, that they work so well together that they must be of the same thread.
to describe your relationship with beomgyu, those metaphors would never even have came up in the light of day because you guys just don't work. you like what he likes and he likes what you like. you do what he does, and he does what you do. for heavensake, you've known each other since highschool and you still ended up in the same dream university, in the same dream careers, in the same fast food job! and that is exactly why you don't work. the arguments that fester from being just a little too similar got extreme back when you were teenagers, terribly extreme you couldn't even blame it on hormones.
girls who'd be interested in beomgyu every three weeks would come up to you at the randomest times to ask if there was anything going on between you two and the first couple girls, your friends would die of laughter because of how inaccurate the assumption was. "her and beomgyu? beomgyu with the long hair? him and y/n? the y/n that's standing next to us right now?"
it was safe to say that after a while, the entire engineering major knew you and beomgyu would never happen. and you were content with that.
that is until that day happened, the day you lost the bet.
you were feeling lots of things before he'd decide on a what you'd do - fear, fear was a big one.
"hey, go easy on me." you reluctantly said quietly.
"huh?" he put a hand behind his ear, "what'd you say?"
it was embarrassing enough that you couldn't complete the software in time when you're known in the major for being the fastest, but it was even worse to give beomgyu the satisfaction of you being scared. you already caught a smirk on his face, fucker.
"i said...go easy on me you prick."
"okay okay here, since you're begging, i'll give you a deal." he folded his arms, acting like he was thinking of this on the spot. "i'll go easy on you if you don't ask any questions about my dare." and that was when you knew that he had this planned out - you took the bait anyway, just of the small chance you might avoid jumping off a cliff.
"okay, i accept the deal, whats the dare?"
"take me, choi beomgyu..." he was elongating every vowel and you'd hate to admit it but every time he does it, as annoying as it is, it does manage to do its job and keeps you on your toes to want to know what he'd say next.
but the long pause that day was way more annoying than usual.
"just say it!", you yelled.
"on a date!" he yelled immediately in response. "jesus christ you're so impatient."
beomgyu saw you open your mouth to say something and he anticipated it so he quickly shut you up with a finger on your lips.
"no questions, remember?", you rolled your eyes and snatched his finger off your lip. "here are the rules. one, you're paying for everything-"
"broke ass." you cursed under your breath and he caught it.
"who's working three shifts again?" well, that got you quiet. "two, it has to be the best date i've ever been on. like spectacular, jaw dropping, 5 star restaurant. you know i'm a wanted, highly desirable man. and three, if you break the rules, you'll have to try again. but hey, i trust you'll get it on the first try. i'm going to go easy on you."
and that is how you find yourself on the 9th try of trying to woo beomgyu with a date and finally get the dare over with. i'm going to go easy on you? bullshit.
the first three times, it was aggravating to know that you failed and had to go on another date. the next four to eight times, you viewed it as another assignment to overcome - like a game? that period was ambitious (hello, you literally drove four hours for one of the dates once) so when even those failed, you entered your nine times to how many the fuck you know times. you've never went on this many dates with someone you weren't even in a relationship with.
and by now you'd figured that beomgyu was just freeloading off of you. that asshole. you would totally do something like that..
like it was the devil's calling, beomgyu came through the door of the desserted cafe that you part timed at.
"hey! welcome to bist-- beomgyu." you said his name grimly, staring at him walk over to your register.
"oh my god, i did not know you worked here! fancy seeing you partner!"
"beomgyu, you literally used to work with me-- you know what? no. i just took the last order. we're closing the store."
he looked at his wrist, like he was reading a watch but when he dropped his hand down, there was indeed, no real watch.
"it's seven on a thursday, you aren't fooling me."
you groan dramatically like a child, frustrated. "what do you want beomgyu? i can't afford to hear your voice one more time this week, i'm serious i think i need to get myself checked out before i'm driven to insanity." you mumbled as he looked up at the menu, his iris going left and right trying to decipher which one would be the cheapest, and not taste like total shit. "can i get a...hmm...this is a lot of options..."
"a triple shot soy decaf vanilla latte with whipped cream?", you filled in.
"no not--wait, hold on. that sounds really good."
"because it is good." you said rolling your eyes playfully, this time.
"is it cheap?"
"the cheapest." you said, cracking a smirk. it was times like these where you remember that you and beomgyu are still the friends part of the frenemy title you both chose to adopt.
a more genuine fond smile warmed up on beomgyu's face, because he had the same exact thought.
"well its not technically the cheapest--" he started.
"don't ruin the moment beomgyu." you said heading to the backroom.
"i'm just saying, you were being deceitful! also there was no moment!" you heard beomgyu call out. secretly, you let out a quick chuckle to that.
when you finally got him his order, you expected him to leave...but of course, you thought too highly of him. because there he was, elbows on the counter, sipping his coffee (milkshake) really..really loudly. it was like his sole purpose was to annoy the fuck out of you.
"do you want me to direct you to a table mr. choi?" you said in your fake nice voice sarcastically as your back was turned from him to wash the tools that you used.
"y/n i have a question."
"answer mines first."
"when is the next date--i mean, like, your next, um..attempt? try? what are we calling it?"
you exhale, you knew he was going to mention it.
"it's today. surprise!" you turned around with a terrifying toothy smile, doing jazz hands.
"you just decided this last minute didn't you?" you shook your head, still keeping up a smile. "also stop smiling like that oh my god."
and the smile was dropped. "okay, so what if i decided just now? you know, the cheapest dates are the best dates."
"literally nobody has ever said that." he said, taking another sip of his drink, shaking his head slowly disapprovingly.
"no, yeah you're right i don't know why i just did." you said, very much perplexed those words came out of your mouth -- you'll call it your first stage of insanity.
"look, i'm going to be completely honest, i don't think you'll ever top the paris hot balloon date with that cute foreign chick."
you scoffed, coming closer to the counter with your arms crossed. "um pfft, i thought we collectively, we as in the whole world by the way, agreed that you made that date up."
"you're the only one who thinks it didn't happen, i literally showed you pictures! and it's not that hard to believe, i am universally hot stuff." he shrugged, and you rolled your eyes. "wait hey, i think i still have the pictures, let me show you."
his eyes were narrowed, scrolling on his phone.
"okay okay, enough. also don't call yourself hot stuff again." you covered his phone screen and he looks up at you confused. "lets say it did happen.."
"it did happen!"
"...if you knew i wasn't going to top your extravagant paris date, why'd you even add the second rule?"
for the first time, beomgyu didn't have an immediate response. he was quiet, way too quiet.
"look, you can just tell me you were trying to freeload off of me." beomgyu looks taken back, his face scrunched up, so you add more to clarify, "i would be pissed but you don't have to be all secretive about it. i can get over it if you pay me four hundred dollars in cash--"
"let's say i was freeloading off you, which by the way, i should've thought of that--"
"correction, you were freeloading off of me."
beomgyu ignores you. "you know what, i just thought of something. there is one way you could top the hot balloon paris date."
your interest was piqued but you try not to show how your ears perked up, and clear your throat. "what is it?"
despite your attempt to seem disinterested, when beomgyu motions to bring your head closer so he can whisper something, you don't hesitate.
"i don't know, maybe it'll be too hard on you...like it takes a lot of courage--"
"just say it!" you yelled impatiently.
"say i liiike you beomgyu-ah~" he said with what you think is a pout, and top of that you'd bet a hundred bucks that he was fluttering his long lashes too.
you pull your head away. "beomgyu."
he shrugged. "i'm giving you a very easy task, take it or leave it."
you exhale, its true. it isn't that bad. "i'm not doing the aegyo though."
"thats the entire point! just don't do it at all then."
"oh, okay. bye, it wasn't pleasant seeing you beomgyu, as always." you waved him away and start untying your apron to leave your shift, but beomgyu was still there. because you've heard the third groan in a row.
you, however, didn't notice that he came to the back in the register area until you felt his hand touching your struggling ones that were trying to untie your apron for the past..three minutes now.
you dropped them to your sides, feeling a little awkward at the sudden proximity.
"were you actually going to close?" he asked as you felt beomgyu trying to untangle the knot.
"no that was a lie, i'm leaving because my shift ended."
"huh. you know i was about to apologize for bothering you. and i never apologize."
"who said you weren't bothering me anyway? in fact, you've been bothering me this whole month more than normal."
you looked back to beomgyu, "why'd you stop? can you try to untie it faster?"
"alright alright, jesus."
the rest of the time that he spent untying the knot, it was quiet. oddly.
"done. i have to go now though, homework and stuff." he said backing away.
you stopped him by holding his wrist back. "hey, are you mad? it's kind of weird, i've never seen you mad."
he looked back at you with a raised brow. you rolled your eyes, correcting yourself. "okay, well i've never seen you mad this month"
you let go of his wrist because hes fully turned to face you, with his arm crossed.
"maybe, maybe i wasn't mad because i didn't see hanging out with you to be the biggest nuisance in the world."
"well..you're mad now."
"say i like you."
"huh?"
"you don't have to do the aegyo, i'm exempting it because i am a very nice friend."
okay, so now you're lost. you don't know what's going on, at all. but hey at least you'll get a perk of ending the dare!
do you...want to end the dare?
okay, what the actual fuck. why are you having that thought?
"i like you beomgyu-ah." you mumbled reluctantly in the most monotone, robotic voice ever. and his previous sorta serious face morphs into a fit of laughter.. KNEE slapping laughter.
"god you should've--you should've seen your face!" he said pointing at you while he uses his other hand to hold his stomach. like an elementary bully ad.
and the fit of laughter continued.
"was that whole im mad act fake? you're...ugh." you groaned. another day, another beomgyu being a total dick.
you took beomgyu by the wrist again to push him out of the back. "bye! it's time for you to leave!" you said loudly.
"alright alright i'm leaving--ow!"
you had to go through seeing him laughing all the way to the exit door, but hey, at least he was gone. you sigh, relieved.
but then you hear the ding again.
"i like you too by the way" beomgyu shouted out. and then left again.
typical annoying, irritating, choi beomgyu. leaving you to make an analysis of what he meant by saying that... for the entire night.
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2K notes · View notes
marimogf-archived · 3 months
Note
hope i’m not too late to send in an inbox 🥹 but for the song thing ur doing i would love to req one heh
song: tek it — cafuné
genre: fluff
character: satoru!! :3 🩵
logaaaan i'm so sorry for being so late, i hope this gives you some comfort :( 🩷
listen
contains: reader wears makeup, pining, satoru doesn't know feelings, he's so loser coded i love him, tiny splash of angst; wc: ~1k
as always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!! 💗
PLEASE READ MY DNI BEFORE INTERACTING!
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“look! there's gonna be fireworks by the river! can we go, ‘toru? please?” you waved the flyer in front of his face while putting on your best puppy eyes, a little pout accompanying it.
“yeah, yeah, okay fine,” the white-haired man grumbled, snatching the flyer out of your hand and reading through the details. it was the day before you were leaving to study in a different city, leaving him, shoko and suguru in tokyo.
as his cerulean eyes studied the paper, you were already scurrying about, packing more belongings into various boxes lying around in your apartment. satoru watched you from his peripheral vision, noticing how empty your home suddenly looked. it became all too real to him that next week, you would be somewhere entirely unknown.
and he'd be alone with his feelings.
he didn't know when those feelings start to blossom in his chest. when the line between being friends and lovers blurred. was it when you drunkenly confessed to suguru that you’d liked satoru but it'd never work out because his family wouldn't approve? was it when, in that same night, satoru offered to let you stay at his and you mumbled a “thanks, love you” into his fluffy sheets?
maybe it was when you snuck onto the roof of his parents’ house to look at the moon. your favorite pastime. you would always tell him that the moon was just like him to you. always there, always watching over you. but he was also always above you, a constant reminder of how unattainable and untouchable he'd be.
he didn’t know when it became more than just friendship.
never having had those feelings before, he also didn't know how to navigate them. his first course of action was to distance himself from you, in hopes that those feelings would subside. but in the contrary, he missed you so much that he almost spilled like a full glass of water when you asked him if everything was alright in that soft voice of yours.
of course you had noticed, you could read him like a book. it's almost like you had the six eyes instead of him.
the night of the fireworks, you met him at your usual hang-out spot underneath the weeping willow by the river. there were already a few stray fireworks going off, illuminating the sky in one minute intervals.
satoru couldn't take his eyes off of you, hair and makeup done in a way that was only reserved for special occasions. with the summer heat making your skin glow.
you engaged in meaningless small talk, the air thick with the knowledge of your departure the next day. when the announcement came that the fireworks would officially start, you took satoru’s clammy hand in yours to drag him to the side of the river.
as the fireworks went off with loud whistles and bangs, satoru’s eyes wandered over to you. he took in your amazed expression. eyes sparkling in the different colors of the fireworks, skin shiny from the light sheen of sweat you worked up and lips stretched into a big smile.
satoru’s heart jumped into his throat when you turned to face him, flushed cheeks burning.
“thank you for accompanying me here for my last day, ‘toru. it really means a lot.” your gentle voice barely reached his ears over the tumult around you.
he could barely swallow the lump on his throat, gulping hard before awkwardly chuckling. “yeah, don't worry about it.”
leaning over to him, you pressed a chaste kiss on his scalding cheek, watching as his flush traveled to the tips of his ears and down his neck.
“i’ll miss you more than anyone else.”
his heart leaped out of his chest, the words he so desperately wanted to say on the tip of his tongue, his brain screaming at him to just say it!!!
but he swallowed, hard, burying his feelings deep down.
“you're acting like we won't see each other ever again,” he laughed, throwing his arm around your shoulders. you joined in with giggles, leaning into him and feeling his accelerated pulse against your ear.
“we won't for a while.”
the next day, you tearfully said your goodbyes and tried to memorize everyone's scent by hugging them just a few seconds longer. last in line, of course, was satoru.
the world stopped turning for a moment as you locked eyes, yours filling with fresh tears and his burning as well. shoko and suguru gave each other a knowing look, excusing themselves to the convenience store next to your apartment building.
“thank you for coming,” you mumbled, stepping towards his slender figure, tear streaks adorning your hot cheeks.
“what kind of best friend would i be if i didn't see you off?” he replied quietly, his heart jumping to his throat and closing it off.
you wrapped your arms around his slim waist, burying your wet face in his chest. his warm hands found your back, rubbing soothing circles. his lips pressed against the crown of your head with a low hum. little did you know he was fighting back tears of his own, not wanting to seem weak in front of you and his other friends.
he watched intently as the moving company workers loaded the remaining boxes into their truck and closed it off, honking the car to signal their nearing departure.
you sniffled into his shirt, inhaling his scent for one last time before separating from him. ”that's my cue.”
he, along with your other friends that had returned, watched as you got into your car with one last wave. as the engine started running, so did the hot tears down satoru's cheeks. he earned himself ruffle of his hair from suguru and a sympathetic smile from shoko.
that night, after confirming that you got to your new apartment safely, he climbed up to his roof. just like when you were here, he missed your warmth next to him.
as he looked up to the moon shining brightly in the starry midnight sky, his phone vibrated with a message from you.
‘we're still looking at the same moon <3’
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a/n: kgksjdshs ngl i struggled a bit with this but it's finally out!!! please remember that this is one of the last things i will put out before completely moving blogs!
tagging @satoruhour (thank you for helping me 😭), @tojiella @kizoken @gojoest @ramonathinks
© marimogf 2023 — all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate or steal any of my works.
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darlingshane · 3 months
Text
Professor Castle II
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Frank Castle x F!Reader
Summary: Frank takes you to Curtis' wedding in Florida as his date.
CW: 18+. Explicit, Smut, Angst, Romance, Fluff, Vaginal Sex, Fingering, Mutual Masturbation, Kissing, Feelings, Age Gap, Professor/Student relationship.
Word Count: 6.5k
— Links: First Part // AO3.
A/N: I wasn't planning on adding another part to this, but this idea came to me as I was finishing the first one and I had to write it. There are a lot of mixed feelings and romance and smut. And we also get to know how reader and Frank got together in the first place. Billy and Dinah have a significant appearance here, and Billy is kind of a bitch. I can never bring myself to see him in a better light, even in an au like this.
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It's Friday afternoon, after a hectic day of work and classes, that you get on a flight to Florida to accompany Frank to one of his best friends’ wedding.
It feels like a pretty surreal experience that he wanted you to come along, and that you also said yes. The last time you were invited to a wedding you were probably eleven or twelve and were seated at the kids’ table. Going to an affair like this as an adult with your very grown-up, secretive boyfriend feels like skydiving with no parachute.
It's already dark by the time the plane lands in the evening. The knot in your stomach tightens as you get off the plane. You were already nervous before taking off. Once your feet touch ground in Florida you wish you had a longer flight. It all happened so fast you didn't have time to prepare yourself for the idea of meeting Frank's friends. It's basically like meeting his family. Whenever you've heard stories about Billy or Curtis, he always talked about them as if they were blood brothers. So the whole thing becomes more scary the closer you get to the hotel.
There's a sudden shift during that half an hour ride to your destination. Internally, you feel like you still should hide your relationship with Frank, but he's been holding your hand the entire way there. You can't bring yourself to process how good it feels not having to care about if someone might see you or not. For months, being constantly alert is all you've done. It was exciting at first, but not as much as having his big paw holding your hand out in the open while the shuttle driver asks if you're here on vacation.
The building you arrive in sits so close to the ocean you can hear the waves crashing on shore and smell the fresh saltwater lingering in the air before you get out of the vehicle.
Once you've checked in, you get to a lovely room on the third floor with a view to the pool where a group of people enjoy an evening dive. You open the door to the balcony to let the air in, while Frank checks the rest of the room.
“Are you okay, baby?” Asks Frank as you lean on the railing outside.
“Yeah, just a little tired.”
“Well, there's a bed right here.” He points out before opening his suitcase on the mattress to take out his suit.
“It looks like a nice bed.” Glancing over your shoulder, you watch Frank straightening the fabric before hanging it in the closet.
When he's done, he joins you on the balcony, linking his arms around your waist.
“Should we go out to dinner or stay and order room service?” He softly kisses your nape.
“Hm, I'm fine with either. What do you wanna do?”
“Well, It'd be nice to go out since we never get to do that. But on the other hand, we haven't been really alone for a couple of weeks, and I was really looking forward to having you all for myself tonight.”
“It's still early, my king. We can do both.” You tuck your arm back to caress his jaw.
“Yeah? I thought you were tired.”
“I'm also hungry. Let me change and get rid of the airplane smell, and we'll go exploring.”
You unpack your suitcase and hang the outfits you picked for the next couple of days next to Frank's, which is such a bizarre thing to do. It's going to be an interesting weekend without having to put much thought into the secrecy of your relationship. Something as simple as just holding hands or letting your clothes live next to his, even if it's just temporary, makes you feel that normalcy most couples have. You wonder if this is what the future holds for you and Frank. It begs to question if this is the future you want with Frank.
Both of you freshen up and change into clean clothes. You slip into a long skirt with a halter top in your favorite color and a pair of sandals while Frank dons a pair of black chinos and a brown polo shirt.
Heading downstairs you go straight to the restaurant, sit at the bar and order some drinks first while you wait for a table.
“What?” you're chewing on the end of a straw when you notice Frank stare weirdly fixed on you. “Do I have something on my face?”
“No, you’re perfect.” His gaze beams full of wonder. “I just… Look at you. You're so beautiful. I can't believe you're here with me. I thought we'd never get to be out like this.”
“It’s kinda weird, isn’t it? But in a good way.”
“Yeah. C’mere,” his hand slides along your jaw and stops at your nape. A flick of his tongue swipes his lips before planting a wet one on your mouth. It lingers for a moment before diving for a deeper taste. It takes you off guard, and you almost want to pull back as soon as the tip of his tongue escapes past your teeth. It’s when it tries to meet with yours that you awkwardly pull your head back. His palm massages the back of your neck as you press your forehead against his, feeling a pang of sadness thrum in your chest.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?”
Your head slightly shakes, as you look down at your hands holding his forearm on your lap.
“I just… I feel like everyone is staring at us.”
“Let’em.”
“Frank.”
“Baby, I’m serious. Nobody is watching us. Look around,” his hold loosens around your neck and your head swivels to see that in fact no one is interested in whatever you and Frank do. “Are you embarrassed to be seen with an old man like me?”
“You’re not that old.”
“That wasn’t a no.”
“I’m not embarrassed to be with you, Frank. I… I wish we could do this all the time like normal people do. It feels like after this weekend, we’ll never get to do this ever again. I know we just got here, and I’m just being dramatic, you don’t have to say it. But uh… it makes me sad we can’t go out like this at home.”
“Baby, I get it. I wish I could have you like all the damn time. It breaks my heart to see you every day and have to remind myself not to look at you or touch you or kiss you.”
“Sorry for bringing you down with me. It's been a long day. And being here with you is a little overwhelming. It's brought a lot of stuff to the surface I never even considered before. I see it comes out so natural for you to do something like holding my hand or kissing me, and I feel bad that there’s this weird thing blocking me from enjoying that.”
“Hey, don't apologize.” Frank sighs before gently pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I'm the one who's sorry for not realizing sooner that this was a bigger deal for you than I thought. I just wanted you here so badly, I didn't think what this meant for you– for us. How about we go back to the room, order something, put on a movie and take it slow.”
“No, it's okay. I'll be fine. I wanna get used to this. I wanna be here with you, Frank.”
“Yeah?”
Drawing a smile, you simply nod and squeeze his hand a little harder.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“A couple of times. It doesn’t hurt to hear it again.”
Your lips pull up a little higher, as you lean forward to attempt to resume the kiss he started.
“Mr. Castle.” The restaurant’s hostess interrupts you just as you press your lips against his. “Your table is ready.”
She guides you to a table by the window with a view to the beach.
“Your waiter will be right over,” she politely says before going to fetch more people to place at the empty tables.
Despite being still a little nervous about the whole thing, you’re so over the moon with Frank, that it's easy to relax more and more in his presence. He knows how to smooth things over with just a few sweet words or an adoring glance framed by those glasses that really show the beauty of his eyes. You never thought he'd be this casual and forward when it came to showing public displays of affection. You're both overly cautious, but here, it's like he's flipped a switch in his head and all his problems are gone. Despite his impromptu decision the other day when he tried to break up with you, it feels like he's been dying to be able to show the world that you're his, and he is yours. You adore that about him and try to ease your mind into being more present right here and let go of all those worries that sadden your heart. Even if it's just for two days, you should be able to enjoy what you got.
By the end of your meal, you’re halfway through your dessert when a couple approaches the table.
“Hey, Frankie!” Billy, who you recognized from one of Frank’s pictures, makes him stand from his seat to give him a hug.
“Bill,” he addresses him before looking at the woman by his side. “Hey, Dinah. Good to see you again.”
“Yeah, good to see you, too.”
“And you must be the mystery woman Frank never told us about until a couple of days ago,” Billy directs his attention to you as you extend your hand in his direction.
“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”
“Oh, she’s funny.”
“You have no idea.”
They both shake your hand as Frank sits back down.
“Thought you were going to turn in early like the rest of the party.”
“That was the plan, but we decided at the last minute to come down. You guys wanna join us?”
“No, we’re going to this swing by this bar down the street. You should come.”
“We've already had a couple of drinks,” Frank says. “We were about to call it a night.”
“C’mon, just a nightcap. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you. And you just can’t bring a date to Curt’s wedding and not properly introduce her like she deserves.”
Frank glances at you and shrugs, “you wanna go?”
“Just one drink?”
“Just one drink,” Billy repeats. “I mean if you’re old enough to drink.”
He says so casually it throws you off, but you’re quick to reply when you’re nervous.
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that but yes, I’m old enough to drink.” You prove it by lifting the almost empty cocktail glass from the table and bring it to your mouth to finish it.
He mimes his fingers zipping his mouth as Dinah gives him a look and Frank hangs his head down.
Once the momentary awkwardness has passed you choose to follow them down the boardwalk to a crowded bar at the end of the street. You take a table outside and order some drinks. You go for another cocktail, the guys have a couple of beers and Dinah settles for scotch on the rocks.
“So, Frankie here has strictly forbidden us to ask you questions. What is he trying to hide?” Billy stares at you from the other couch with his elbows leaned on his knees.
“I didn't say that. I only asked you to not give her the third degree.” He scoffs.
“It's okay.” You laugh, placing a palm at the small of Frank's back. “What do you wanna know?”
While Billy questions you about your life, where you come from, what you’re majoring in, what your hobbies are… Frank tries to remain not too bothered but often chimes in to say – you don’t have to answer that, when Billy pokes into something way too personal.
Almost through with your cocktail you stand up and head to the bathroom and Dinah stalks behind you.
“Didn’t realize you were coming too,” you say when you notice her holding the door after you step into the room.
“Yeah, I needed a break from hearing Billy talk. Don’t mind him, he always had a big mouth. It’s pathological, but he’s harmless… for the most part.”
“He’s… intense,” you say for the lack of a better word. “How long have you two been together?”
“Oh, we’re not together together. We just hang out sometimes.”
“You could’ve fooled me.” You lean on one of the sinks while Dinah fixes her makeup.
“How long have you been dating Frank?”
“Hm, almost a year.”
“You know, I dated a teacher once at the academy, but it was nothing like you and Frank.”
“How so?”
“He didn’t take me as a plus-one to a wedding for starters. It was just sex. I can see that it’s more for you and Frank. Is it?”
“I uhh… I think it is. It’s crazy that he invited me here.”
“Yeah, he’s been moping around for a couple of years since his last girlfriend. It’s good that he has you now. How did that happen?”
You can see that Dinah and Billy have more in common than she lets on. They definitely share the same hunger to gather information from anyone. You don’t mind them poking around to know more about you. It’s actually refreshing being able to talk about you and Frank for the first time, and if Frank has told them about you, it means that he trusts them.
“Well, it’s not an interesting story. We didn’t fall in love at first sight, or shared longing glances across hallways, or pass secret notes, and shit. He uh… we used to go to the same café outside campus that has the best coffee. One day I saw him trying to pay with his phone cause he forgot his wallet, and it wasn’t working cause he’s technologically inept to handle any app. So I paid for his coffee. The next day he paid for mine and I helped him manage his digital wallet. We started taking more and more outside class. We would walk together back to campus. Over time, it took us longer and longer to make it back. We would stop at this park to look at the ducks in the lake. Sometimes we fed them to stall. Though neither of us gave a shit about the ducks-”
“Of course,” Dinah softly smiles at your remark.
“Then I’d tell him I’d be at this art show, or go to this movie, whatever shit I was doing, hoping he’d show up, and he did. It was like that for months, one day we looked at the other, and we knew… I guess we fell in love. And at the same time we realized that we couldn’t see each other like that anymore. So we stopped hanging out. That lasted like three weeks tops. We were both miserable.”
“And then what happened?”
“I… it was the end of the semester, before finals, I had my first play, and he came to see it.”
“He came to see you.” She accurately points out.
“Right. Once it was over, he went backstage to say hi to everyone. I… before he left I said to him to wait for me in his car and he did. After everyone left, I headed out to the parking lot, got in the passenger seat and told him to drive. We talked for hours, trying to convince ourselves once more that we couldn't be together, that I'd never work, but it didn't matter. We made a choice and now here we are. We’ve been hiding for months and it…”
“It finally feels right to say it out loud.”
“I think so… I can’t tell anyone else in my life right now. It’s hard to trust anyone with a secret like that. But if Frank told you I guess I can trust you.”
“You can. I get it. Sometimes you can't choose who you fall in love with.”
“How come something that’s supposed to be wrong feels so right at the same time?” You’ve been wondering for months.
“That’s a complicated question, sweetie. But it’s usually the things that are supposed to be wrong that feel the best, unfortunately.”
Meanwhile, outside, Billy grills Frank a little more about you on a totally different approach than Dinah’s.
“C’mon, Frankie. You can’t be serious. You know you could lose your tenure if they find out.”
“They’re not going to find out.”
“If it was just sex I’d get it. I’ve had my fair share of coeds. The difference is that I’m not their teacher, well, sometimes they like to pretend that I am, if you know what I mean. But you’re bringing her to Curt’s wedding, as your date. That’s nuts.”
“Why is it so hard to believe that I love her?”
“Cause you haven’t been with anyone since Maria and the first person you date is one of your students. Does it sound sane to you? Are you having a midlife crisis or something?”
“You know, out of everyone, I thought you'd be the last one to judge, Bill.”
“I'm not judging you, Frankie. I'm just checking that you haven't completely lost your mind. Someone has to. You look like you're willing to risk it all out for her. Is she worth all that, your job, your reputation, your precious principles? I thought you had a code.”
“She's absolutely worth all that. Can you say the same about Dinah? When are you going to stop playing with her?”
“Me? She's the one who calls the shots. She's the one playing with me.”
“Yeah, sure.” Frank scoffs before taking a swallow of his beer.
“Okay, let's just say it's a game we both love playing. I use her, she uses me, it's a win-win situation.”
“Until someone gets hurt.”
“Well, some people like that. How are you keeping up with her?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean bed wise. I know from experience that twenty-year-olds are like feral cats. Can you handle something like that?”
“Jesus, Bill. You're fucking disgusting sometimes. Don't talk about her like that.”
“What? Have you forgotten how you were at her age? You were either fucking or thinking about fucking.”
“Not everything is about sex.”
“Right, so you're not having sex.”
“That's none of your business.”
“Well, if you're so willing to put your ass in the line, I hope you're getting at least something out of it.”
“That's all that is for you, huh? You never do anything unless you're getting something in return. Everyone and everything is trading businesses for you. Even love.”
“Love is for children, Frankie. Never did anything good for anyone. Look at you… Every woman that ever touched you left a deeper mark than the last one. I’d rather be shot a hundred times than having to carry imaginary scars. What do you think is gonna happen when she's done with you? You think a girl like that is ready to commit forever?”
“You're so full of shit, Bill. You talk big game, but you never made it past the side lines. If that's where you wanna stay there, fine, but don't pretend you know how it feels to put yourself out there and offer yourself without expecting anyone to hand everything to you right away.”
“You used to be more fun.”
“Well, your idea of fun is different from mine.”
“Hey, what did we miss?”
Dinah and you return to the table that seems to have gathered a visible dark cloud over them.
“Nothing, get your stuff. We're going back to the hotel.” Frank barks, promptly rising from his chair.
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“Are you ready to tell me what happened between you and Billy?” you straddle Frank's lap on the bed. He's taken off his glasses and most of his clothes and the only thing left is his boxer briefs. You tried to pry on the way back here, but he was clearly still upset about something. Now that he's more relaxed you try again while you comb his hair with your fingers. “Was he mean to you? Do you want me to kick his bony ass?”
“I'd like to see that,” he chuckles as his palms smooth the bare skin of your thighs. “There's nothing to tell, sweetheart. He's just an asshole sometimes. I'll get over it. C'mere.”
He tucks a finger under your chin and pulls your face closer so he can seize your lips. You can tell he's trying to distract you from asking further questions but if he's not ready to talk about it then there's nothing you can't do right now. You happily accept his affection and quickly melt in the slow undoing of his tongue as it finds yours. It's easy to forget and forgive when he has you like this. All rational thought abandons you and suddenly your hips are grinding against him, following the same rhythm as his tongue as it becomes more eager to please you. His hands hold tight to your hips, coaxing you to feel him growing hard between those layers of underwear keeping your flesh from coming to close contact.
“God, I've been dying to have you like this, sweetheart,” his breathing falters between sloppy kisses.
“I know.” You break from his mouth and press your forehead against his, gazing down at the spot where your centers rub together to see his cock bulging up like mad.
Frank gets a hold of your top and swiftly pulls it over your head so he can kiss your tits. He buries his face in your chest while your arm curls around his nape. He's all tongue, teeth, and lips inciting your skin to come alive into tiny pimples. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, hums around it, and bites hard as you let out a breathless gasp when his teeth sink into your flesh. Before it starts hurting he releases it to see a faint mark around the circumference.
“Fuck me.”
“Yeah?” Biting his bottom lip, he draws the shape of your jaw with a finger before shifting positions with you to have you on your back. That same finger traces the length of your torso all the way down to your underwear. He takes a full sight of you for a beat before yanking your panties off you and pushing his boxers down.
His feet shimmy out of the fabric, as he lowers himself on top of you, letting you meet his full erection that throbs over your tender, slicked flesh. His warm breath heats up your face when he presses his parted mouth at the corner of your lips. He viciously rubs himself against you, collecting your juices all around his cock. Then he buries himself inside you as your whole body trembles as usual. Every time he penetrates you like this, the most thrilling chill takes over your body before you can even come. It settles at the back of your head, as all your senses are taken by that powerful lust force that you can’t control. Each thrust of his hips, each kiss, and lick, and word whispered in your ear takes you closer to heaven. He fucks you with mind, body and soul, like real men do, making you come with ease each fucking time.
“Tell me you love me,” you moan against his jaw, while you dig your nails on his back.
“I love you. I fucking love you, sweetheart.” He desperately pants as the pace of his hips becomes more urgent.
“Tell me you need me.”
“Of course I need you. All the damn time.”
You both gradually lose your ability to breathe the closer you get to orgasm. His sweat sticks with yours as your bodies melt together in that haze of love and lust bubbling all over the room.
“Tell me you’re never going to leave me again.” It sounds needy as you say it, but you need to hear it over and over, especially now.
“I promise…fuck. I promise I’m never gonna leave you again, baby.”
One of his hands clutches to your hips to keep you still while he fucks the light of you with unbridled passion. You can feel every inch of your body vibrating to the sound of his skin slapping on yours. Your breath comes out forced in short breaths as he makes that final effort that tips you over the edge. Your walls flutter and contract around his cock for a moment as you reach the top of your climax.
“I’m gonna… fuck,“ you’re squeezing him so hard, he just spills all of himself inside you while you ride that tide that makes your vision blur and ears ring for a moment while he tries to tame his own orgasm.
When you come to your senses, he’s dead weight on top of you, limp and hot, kissing your neck softly while he regains his breath. You can hear your own heartbeat in your ears still as one of our hands blindly glides up his back.
“You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” his voice comes out hoarse.
“I know.”
“What you asked me to say… you know I mean it, right?”
“I think so.”
“Are you still scared that I’m gonna leave you?”
“A little, yeah. I… it was just seven days ago when you told me that you didn’t want to see me again. I know you didn’t mean it and that you only wanted to keep us safe, but it was a hard week, Frank. I’m not mad at you. It’s just been a roller coaster of emotions, and now we're here together, playing like a normal couple and I can't help but feeling a little insecure about all of it. Not just you.”
“I'm sorry,” he shifts on top of you, lifting his head so he can capture your eyes. “I really am. I hate to make you feel that way. I know it's confusing but you gotta know something. You… You're all that matters to me. I’d die without you, sweetheart.”
“Now, who’s the dramatic one?”
“I only learned from the best.”
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The next day, the wedding ceremony is set at noon.
Half an hour before the event, everyone starts gathering at the lobby to walk together to the beach. Frank holds a palm at the small of your back while he introduces you to Curtis finally and a handful of friends. He manages to avoid stumbling onto Billy altogether.
When you get to the beach, Dinah beckons you to take a seat next to her on the fourth row. Meanwhile, Frank stands next to Curt in the makeshift altar framed by swaying palm trees and a spectacular backdrop of vibrant blue skies adorned with wispy clouds and a blinding sun. Right by the groom’s side also stand Curt’s brother and Billy, who seems to be feeling the icy chill of Frank’s cold shoulder. You’ve never seen him this mad at anyone before and by the way Billy occasionally glances at you and Dinah, you start to wonder you're the cause of their rift.
Frank has traded his glasses for aviators and shines so handsome in a navy blue suit with a white dress shirt and no tie. Everyone is dressed in light fabrics and bold colors. You’ve chosen a floral romper and wedges.
Waiting for the affair to start, as you produce a pair of shades to shield your eyes from the sun, Dinah lightly touches your arm.
“You know I don’t agree with Billy at all,” she says coolly as if you had any idea what's going on. “I told you he was harmless, but he can be a real asshole sometimes.”
“I…” You glance at her, trying to gather some thoughts cause you’re really lost right now.
“Oh, Frank didn’t tell you?” She realizes by your expression. “I'm so sorry. I thought you knew.”
“No, he didn't tell me. I asked him. He said that it was just Billy being Billy. But I could tell it was more than that.” You're afraid of asking but if it's something about you, you have the right to know. “Bill doesn't like me, does he?”
“It's not that. He believes Frank isn't thinking clearly when it comes to you. Said you're just an infatuation that's going to get him in trouble. I'm sorry that you had to hear it from me. Frank should've told you.”
“It's okay. It's nothing that he and I hadn't thought of before. It's hard to hear it from someone else's mouth though. I guess that's why he didn't want to tell me.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it'll be fine. I don't know Billy enough to care about what he thinks. It's me and Frank that matters.”
“You have more class than me. I'd definitely get back at him if he tried to alienate anyone in my life like that.”
“It's not really my style. He can think whatever he wants. It's a free country.”
“I shouldn't tell you this but… just so you know he didn't get any of this last night. After you and Frank left he kept whining like a bitch and I just had it with him.”
“Oh God, I'm sorry.”
“Don't be. It's not your fault.”
When the music starts playing, everyone rises from their seats to watch the bride walk down the aisle. They exchange bows under the most stunning setting you’ve ever seen. Though you don't know Curtis and Delia besides Frank’s stories, it's straight up lovely to see two people in love celebrating their joy with family and friends.
Once they’ve sealed the ceremony with a kiss, they cross the aisle together as husband and wife between joyful cheering and applause.
Then, the party moves to the reception in a locale nearby. It's held outside under a canopy of flowers and fairy lights illuminating the array of tables framing the dance floor. The food is served buffet style and your plate is 90% filled with shrimp when you take a seat next to Frank.
“Did you leave some shrimp for the rest?”
You simply shrug, amused, “you snooze, you lose. That's the rule of the buffet. Are you nervous about your speech?”
“A little.”
“Just pretend you're in class giving a lecture.”
“Yeah, I'll try that.” He gazes at you as he brings a piece of salmon to his mouth.
“And if that doesn't work, you know what they say… picture everyone naked.” You start stuffing yours with pieces of shrimp.
“I don't see how that'd be better. I don't wanna see any of these people in their birthday suits.”
“Then focus on me and my birthday suit.”
“I'll try that.”
Frank, of course, despite having some jitters about that best man speech he just has the right words to say about Curtis and Delia. He even makes everyone laugh with a couple of heartfelt jokes about his friendship with Curt. It's really endearing to see him among his people. You can tell that he's made a tight-knit group of loyal friends that'd be there for him for the rest of his life.
As the day progresses, and the alcohol starts taking effect a few people step into the dance floor. You spot Dinah dancing with Curtis’ brother and Billy sweet-talking to one of the bridesmaids by the buffet.
“You having a good time, baby?” Frank's arms circle your waist while you pick a glass of wine from the bar.
“I'm having the best time. Everyone is really nice.” You take a sip of your glass.
“I told you that there was nothing to worry about. Everyone loves you.”
“Well, not everyone.” You tilt your head to the side to point at Billy. “You should've told me what happened.”
“I didn't want to upset you.”
“I'm not upset, Frank. Like I told Dinah, I don't know him enough to care about what he thinks. I know you were trying to protect me, but you don't have to.”
“It's not that, sweetheart. I'm just tired of having the same conversation. We know what we're up against. Figure I could save you the headache of going through all our faults again. There was no point in telling you all the bullshit that came out of his mouth.”
“Well, that's good to know, but I don't want to hear it from other people either. If he said anything about me, I have the right to know, don't you think?”
“He didn't say anything specifically about you, baby. It was mostly about me choosing to bring you here.”
“But it really upset you. You should've told me.”
“I know, I'm sorry,” he kisses your jaw. “How can I make it up to you?”
“Hm… let me think,” you sway your hips, making him move with you. “I think a dance will suffice.”
“Sweetheart, I love you, but I can’t dance to this.”
“I can wait for a slow one.”
“Alright, but just one song.”
“Got it.”
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As much fun as you had with Frank dancing without a care in the world, there's nothing like being back in the hotel room to rest for the night. Mingling with that many people can be exhausting and though you had a great time, you revel in the quietness and comfort of these four walls. To wash out the day of your skin, you take a shower together. Then you lay naked on the bed, face down with our arms tucked under your head while Frank's hands massage your back. His fingers knead all the right spots until you’ve completely relaxed before feeling his lips pressing soft kisses all over your spine. One of his hands slips between your thighs. You separate your knees further apart to make room for it as he softly massages your sex. His palm gently rubs back and forth while he presses his mouth to your ear.
“How does that feel, baby?”
“Good. So fucking good,” you hum. “Don’t stop, please.”
“You gonna make a mess for me, huh?” you notice one of his fingers slipping between your folds to feel those early drops of arousal. “Yeah, you always do.”
You laugh to yourself as he presses a little harder, drawing mind-numbing circles around your clit.
“God, I love you so much.” You lightly wave your ass at his touch, aching for more fiction.
Frank takes the hint and uses his index and middle fingers to rub harder around your hardened nub as he presses his semi-hard against your hip.
“Look what you do to me,” his breathing echoes in your ear, while he rubs himself on your skin. “You proud of yourself?”
“Not quite. You should be harder already,” you turn your head to look at him and move your closest hand to grab his length.
He laughs against your mouth before sending his tongue to taste your kiss.
Mutually serving the other, his cock grows harder in your fist, as you melt around his fingers when they invite themselves into your opening.
“Open your legs a little more, sweetheart,” you heed his command. “Attagirl.”
His thick fingers quickly are wrapped in a sheen layer of your juices as he pushes them in and out repeatedly, letting your arousal drip on the sheets. At the same time, you massage his raging erection that barely fits in the curl of your palm anymore when it's fully swollen.
“I wanna feel you, Frank,” you purr on his lips as he drives you out of your mind.
“Yeah? Want me to come inside you?” He makes a point to press his fingertips hard on your g-spot to earn a good moan out of you.
“You need me to beg?”
“A little. Yeah.”
“Please, I need you to fuck me.”
“Say what you whisper in my ear when you wake me up in the middle of the night just to fuck.”
“I'd die if you don't wake up right now and fuck me,” you sigh. “Please. I need you, king.”
“That's my girl. C'mere.” He takes his fingers away and handles your body so you're laying on your side. He pulls your back flush against his chest and drives the blunt tip of his cock smoothly between your legs.
“God, you're always so fucking wet.”
“Just for you.”
As you adjust your leg to be more comfortable, he tucks his arms around you. His bottom arm slips under your armpit to hold your chest, while his opposite hand rubs its fingers on your clit. Frank thrusts come long and dragged. His mouth opens at the crook of your neck to devour your flesh. You take the hand holding your tit and bring it up to your mouth so you can take his fingers between your lips.
“Fuck, you're gonna make me come, baby,” he rumbles in your ear when you blow his fingers as if it was his cock.
You can tell he's ready to burst by the way his length twitches inside you every time his fingertips touch the back of your throat.
Wrapped in an ethereal veil made out of love and lust, your bodies sync up and lace in an intricate knot, moving together like one. You expel the same shallow breaths. Pulses follow the same pattern. Arch your bodies at the same angle. He keeps a steady rhythm on your folds, you keep your mouth tight around his knuckles. When your legs start trembling, he trembles with you. You beg him again, to go harder. Your core fuses with his as the flame between burns brighter and hotter the closer you get to the top. Overwhelmed by the intoxicating haze, at the very last second, his body gives up and falls out of cadence. Frank comes with the force of a waterfall before you do. A deep grunt echoes in the room as his hips erratically keep pushing for a couple of seconds until he’s spilled every last drop into you.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry, baby,” his breathing falters.
“It’s okay. Just don’t stop. Please.” You pull your mouth away from his hand.
“Sh, sh, I won’t. Come for me, baby.” His fingers stay glued to your clit, his cock remains hard, and deep buried inside your walls while he keeps viciously rubbing on it to grant you your release.
You're so close, you can feel your body about to meet that same force. You clutch your hand around his wrist as your body locks for a beat before being overcome by that whirlwind of pleasure that takes you to a higher ground.
Frank holds you tight as your body goes limp in his embrace. You’d die here if you could, in his arms wrapped around you, in the comfort of his kisses and his voice in your ear telling you how much he loves you.
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whoopsyeahokay · 8 days
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October Sun
summary: things had gone from weird to worse in a matter of seconds. it'd seemed all your secrets had decided to reveal themselves to Wally without so much as considering how you'd feel about it. you'd guessed that was the price you'd had to pay for your choice to share yourself with a member of Split River High's Afterlife Support Group.
pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader
warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence.
sorry for the delay, beauties! i was so behind on so many things and am still nursing a rather gruesome cold 🪦 made this one longer to make up for it 🫶
bon reading, frens
___________________________💀
OCTOBER SUN pt.10
You were six, sitting on your sister Aurora's lap in a hospital room. Monitors beeped—long intervals, pitched notes—and, below that, your great-aunt's rattled breathing. Everything stank of disinfectant.
Ginny lay in the bed; pruned and pale, translucent skin hanging from her bones. She was just past seventy, but had aged several decades in the two weeks since the symptoms had started. Now, she looked like the skeletons your neighbors strung up for Halloween. Ghastly. Small.
Dead.
Mommy dozed in the armchair across from you, her head at an awkward angle, mouth ajar, one hand rested on her swollen belly. For days, she'd subsisted on nothing but good ol' fashioned Celtic stubbornness, running herself into the ground to undo whatever had put Ginny in the hospital. Nothing worked. Potions, pastes, blood spells, smudging rituals; it didn't matter what Mommy and Nanna did, Ginny's doctor insisted her condition was deteriorating.
It was so strange, you thought, that Ginny didn't just tell them herself. After all, she was able to stand in front of you without assistance and seemed much healthier than she had even moments ago.
She'd been asleep, silvery and thin and wheezy, and then her eyes had popped open and she'd gotten to her feet with the grace of a ballerina. Auburn hair in fluffy curls, pinned neatly away from her face; lips bright, Victory red, and skin peachy.
She was as pretty as a picture in a church bell skirt and smart, collared blouse, the colors much more suited to her than the starch white of the hospital gown. The pendant of her necklace was now one of a pair dangling from her earlobes, silver circles glinting in the sterile light.
"Are you better?" You asked her, marveling at her loveliness.
Ginny crouched to meet you at your level and placed her hand on yours, green eyes bright as emeralds in the sun. She smiled, "Don't tell mummy. This will be our little secret." She addressed Aurora next, "I'll be back as soon as I can, pet."
Aurora nodded, solemn, and you both watched Ginny greet a young man in similarly outdated dress as he entered the room. You didn't know who he was, but Aurora must've because she offered him a watery smile, eyes glistening.
"Where's Ginny going?" You asked her.
She shushed you, murmuring, "You can't tell mom, okay?"
Annoyed, "I won't." You weren't 3, you knew how to keep a secret. You'd kept plenty for your new friend Hana. Like her crush on the crayon stealer, Simon Elroy, or how she always took two milks at recess instead of one.
"She's saying hello to Grandpa Jack." Aurora told you, but you sensed there was a lot more to it than that. You gave her your best glare. She rolled her eyes, "They're probably going to try and find out what's wrong with her."
But, "She's better, dummy," you said, craning your neck to watch her swan out of the room with a man who'd died before you were born.
Aurora sighed the way she did whenever she thought you said something stupid and pressed her hand to your cheek, forcing you to look at the bed.
You gasped, astonished that, there, under the layers of quilts your Nanna had brought, was Ginny; breath rattling, monitors beeping, white as a china doll and asleep.
That was how you learned that Traveling meant something different to your family.
‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗
One second you were clung to Wally like a limpet, the next you'd vanished into thin air. Snapped out of existence like you'd never been there at all. Frantic, Wally looked left, right, to the back of the stage, and then spun around to face the rows of seats.
His jaw dropped, blood draining from his face. You stood at the top of the center aisle, shirt no longer rucked up the way Wally had made it; hair as tidy as it had been before he'd run his fingers through it; skin no longer sporting the perfect blush he'd coaxed to the surface.
Even from where he stood, Wally could see that your eyes burned a nebula of colors, the way they had when Wally caught up to you outside the school earlier. As soon as he'd registered it—proof that something magical had just transpired—they dimmed to their normal hue, just as the man behind you, Mr. Anderson, Wally identified, demanded, "What are you doing in here?"
He seemed angry, more so than the time Wally had watched him chew out a group of boys in the locker room showers for smoking weed. Mr. Anderson grabbed you by the arm and hauled you out of the theater like you'd been trespassing.
Wally charged up the aisle, thoughts of how you could fucking teleport taking a back seat to the desire to shove Mr. Anderson to the ground for assuming he had the right to touch you like that. The connection between you and Wally bittered, shrieked, fear and fury swirling together to pump through Wally's veins.
Oh hell no.
"I'm sorry," You apologized. Mr. Anderson released you, causing you to stumble from the momentum he'd used to force you into the hallway. "I won't let it happen again."
In an ill-fated attempt to wedge himself between you and Mr. Anderson, Wally checked the man's shoulder with his own, but little happened. Mr. Anderson had repositioned himself, almost like he'd anticipated the action, and the intention waned into a light graze. One that had no impact on the man, but that caused Wally to trip into the wall.
Mr. Anderson escorted you through the school toward your locker, gravely explaining that you'd overstayed your welcome by an hour and a half; the Wednesday team practices and club activities already packed up and gone.
Glancing outside, Wally was shocked to see the sky was dark. Apparently, making out with you was the equivalent of pressing a giant PAUSE button on the fourth dimension. He was sure no more than twenty minutes had passed since you'd jumped into his arms and kissed him within an inch of his sanity.
Teleportation and time manipulation? Wally gaped, images of his favorite comic book heroes swarming his mind. Holy shit, you were an X-Man. He had big fat feelings for a Mutant prodigy. Was he the Cyclops to your Marvel Girl?
Needing to do something to ensure Mr. Anderson wouldn't try to grab you again, Wally inserted himself between you and him. A move that appeared to influence Mr. Anderson to maintain the space Wally enforced with his presence.
Good, Wally thought, cracking his knuckles, because while he had no problem trying to beat his way into the living world to knock a few of Mr. Anderson's teeth out, he knew that would take a lot more than noble intention to pull off.
He loathed feeling helpless. Back in the day, he'd stood up for the kids who got bullied, had done his best to fend off the misguided idiots who'd used their post-puberty size for evil. Trouble was that now he couldn't do more than make a light flicker by concentrating really, really hard.
Don't be fooled: Dawn made it look easy, but it wasn't.
Finally reaching your locker, Mr. Anderson reiterated, "What were you doing in there?" His demeanor all wrong. Wally knew enough about the guy to know that, usually, he was a cool kind of dorky. Relatable. However, something had obviously possessed him because he was acting like you'd discovered his hidden collection of porn mags.
Wally didn't like it. He wanted Mr. Anderson to fuck off and leave you alone more than he'd wanted anything for a long time. Retaining his position between you and Mr. Anderson, chin up, hands balled into fists at his sides, Wally willed Mr. Anderson away.
You began, "I was just—" when Wally gritted out, stare fixed on the man's haggard face, "You don't owe this dickhead an explanation, baby."
But you spoke over him, "Mathilda asked me to look for something she'd forgotten in there yesterday. She's in the Mean Girl's Musical?" You supplied, and, jeez, you were quick on your feet.
Mr. Anderson was unimpressed, "For two hours?"
"No! No. I was studying in the library when she texted me."
Wally began to wonder how many yarns you'd had to spin for it to come so easily. Part of him was uncomfortable with the notion that it seemed like second nature to you, while another, bigger, part of him seared the way lemon juice stings a papercut.
He recognized it was self-preservation. A lifetime of harboring a massive secret that, okay, might not get you carted off in a straitjacket these days, but definitely wouldn't make it easy for you to go through life normally. He'd seen people ostracized for less.
"Do you have to get anything from the library, then?" Mr. Anderson wanted to know, the V between his brows deepening when his phone buzzed in his blazer pocket. The third time in the short minutes since he'd found you.
"No." You said, cowed, even though you shouldn't be. He'd been the one whose conduct had been inappropriate. He should be begging for your forgiveness, not making you feel terrible like it was his job. "I swear, I won't let it happen again."
Wally's blood boiled.
"See that it doesn't." Mr. Anderson warned. His phone buzzed again. "Get your things and go home."
"Yes, sir."
Mr. Anderson unpocketed and checked his phone as another call lit up the screen. Private, the caller ID claimed.
"You'll have to use the main entrance." He said, already backing away, "Everything else is locked up." Then he leveled you with a dark look of authority, "I assume you can make your own way out?"
Wally could feel the tension in your muscles, could hear your heart stutter behind your ribs. His fingers twitched, itching to bust the man's head right off his shoulders. And, damn, when had he last felt such violent inclinations? Even against those prima donna bullies, the rage hadn't distended into anything remotely close to this.
"Yeah, I..." You cleared your throat, "Yes."
Mr. Anderson retreated and took the next call that came through, his bark of, "Give me a minute," resonating through the empty hallway as he disappeared around the corner.
As soon as he was out of sight, Wally spun on his heel to face you. You shrunk against your locker, arms folded around your middle and eyes faraway, chewing the inside of your bottom lip as you lost yourself in thought.
Wally moved into your bubble, the connection between you calmed, and smoothed his hands down your waist; one into the back pocket of your jeans, the other gliding back up and into your hair.
He pulled you gently against him, tucked your head under his chin and asked, "You good, pretty girl?"
He felt you nod into his chest, "Yeah. That was just every shade of weird imaginable. Something was off about him." You leaned away just enough to gaze up at Wally. "He's usually so...friendly."
Wally pressed a kiss to the top of your head, "I don't want you to stick around, babe. I don't trust that dude not to do something stupid if he finds you again."
"For real?" You sounded stunned, "Him?"
"Honestly? Yeah. He was giving off serious Bundy vibes. You didn't do anything wrong and he acted like you'd cold-cocked his mamma." Wally glared in the direction Mr. Anderson had gone, concluding, "Maybe he's the reason Maddie's blood was splattered all over the boiler room."
"Jesus, Wally, it wasn't a Fear Street massacre." You shunned the idea, disentangling yourself from him to open your locker. After a moment of reflection, "Do you really think he's capable?"
As you grabbed your backpack and started to shove what you needed into it, Wally leaned on the locker beside yours, shrugging, "Like I said, Bundy vibes. And I can't stop him if he decides to come back with a machete, so please," he implored, putting every ounce of urgency behind his words, "Get your stuff and let's go."
Thankfully, you took his advice without further argument. Pulled on your leather jacket, slung your backpack over one shoulder, and held your hand out for Wally to take as if it was something you did all the time.
A champagne-fizz burst in Wally's chest as he accepted the invitation, lacing your fingers together and setting a leisurely but purposeful pace toward the atrium.
"So," He began, unable to ignore the elephant in the room any longer, "When were you going to tell me you could teleport?"
It startled a laugh out of you, the kind that starts with a snort, and Wally felt a wave of fondness wash over him.
"I can't." You said. Rather, "I can, uhm, project...astrally."
Whoa. A barrage of questions threatened to spill out of him, ranging from reasonable to unstable. But, who could blame him? You'd basically just admitted that The Mind from Outer Space could, feasibly, be a real thing! Wally was as titillated as he was curious.
"Astral projection is real?" He asked in as even a tone as he could manage.
"Being a ghost is real." You countered bluntly.
And, "Touché." He conceded, "But you can't blame a guy for being surprised when something out of the Twilight Zone can happen in real life."
You seesawed your head, lips adopting a playful smile. God, you were beautiful. "Fair." You said, winking at Wally who was then forced to swallow the need to pick you up and pin you to the nearest wall with his mouth.
The air was crisp when you both exited the school. He walked you to the picnic tables near the bus stop, resting on the end of a tabletop and pulling you between his legs. Like this, you were pressed flush against him, body fitted so perfectly into his.
The connection rumbled and flared, erupting volcano-hot, determining Wally's actions. He slid his hands from your waist down to squeeze the pert swell of your ass, and dragged your hips against his.
You gasped, delicate, and let your head fall to the side to expose the column of your neck. Wally took advantage. Brushed his dry lips from collar to the hinge of your jaw, little darts of tongue and drags of teeth.
"Fuck, baby, you don't know what you do to me," He groaned, his dick fattening in his sweatpants. And he sure as shit meant it. The connection between you was driving him crazy, keeping teenage boy hormones in check an impossible battle.
He rolled his hips, chasing the friction, using the leverage he had with his hands in your back pockets to lift you into his lap. He rearranged himself on the table, slid back to sit more comfortably, and encouraged you to rut against him.
Wally kissed you like it was the last time, like this was the only chance he'd ever have to do it. Slow, deep, slick. The sounds you made, fuck, wanton and needy; moans and gasps and punched-out sighs.
And then, because, of fucking course 'and then'—your phone buzzed right in Wally's palm. Long, sequential blitzes of vibration. A phone call.
You groaned in annoyance, taking your phone when Wally graciously handed it to you, and answered.
"Hey," You greeted, head on Wally's shoulder and body still.
His mamma had raised a gentleman, he reminded himself and curled his long arms around you in a loose embrace, repeating football stats in his mind to temper his erection.
"Yeah," You were saying, "Yeah, I know, but I got caught up in the...Well, mom's a big girl, Aurora, I'm sure she can find someone else to shake the floorboards this one time."
Wally tried to give you an inquiring look but the angle was too awkward, so instead he filed that tidbit away for later, above astral projection but below In Betweens. And, shit, that's right, you were both supposed to discuss your fritzy ghost powers, not dry hump on school property. Oops.
You growled, climbing off of Wally altogether and hopping to the ground, pacing as you expressed with sarcasm and sass, "Why don't you get your new husband to do it, or are we still keeping him in the dark about the family business?"
Wally barely made out the, "Could you stop being such a selfish little brat for o—" before you hung up on who Wally surmised was your sister. With your back to him, he couldn't tell how you felt about the exchange, but from the tension in your shoulders and how forcibly measured your breathing had become, he thought it was safe to assume not great.
"You guys don't get along?" He ventured.
On a last, heavy breath, you twirled back around, "Actually, we get along really well." You sucked your teeth, "It's our mom's choice of occupation that puts us at each other's throats." Wally knew what was coming, couldn't soften the disappointment. "I gotta go." You said regretfully.
He plastered on a smirk, aiming for levity but sounding too dismayed to stick the landing, "You'd think the universe didn't want us to help Maddie."
In what Wally could only describe as a fit of absolutely fucking not, you strode right up to him, slung your arms around his neck and pulled him into a hot, middle-finger-to-the-sky kiss.
"Fuck the universe," You said when you parted, breathless, perfect, his, "I'll come in early tomorrow. Like, seven-thirty-early. Can you meet me in the parking lot?"
Repeating his words from earlier, "Anything for you, pretty girl," Wally promised, grinning at the prospect of cuddling up somewhere intimate with you in the morning.
Although his thoughts weren't wholly innocent, he recognized within himself the genuine desire to do anything to be near you, for however long you'd give him. Whether that was two minutes or two hours, Wally would be grateful.
"Great," You smiled, bright against the dark autumn evening, "I'll see you then."
A final, sweet stamp of your lips to Wally's cheek and you went on your way, Wally having to watch as you stepped over the boundary of the school grounds and into a world where he couldn't follow.
"Can't wait," He uttered and the connection between you both quieted completely.
💀___________________________
PART NINE - PART ELEVEN
note: i am so sorry to those of you who the taglist isn't working for! i stg, i am trying everything i can think of to fix the links, but nothing has worked so far 💔 thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for sticking with this story despite all the technical difficulties!
if you'd like to be kept up-to-date, please FOLLOW ME and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS as the taglist isn't currently working ☠️
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ffsg0jo · 17 days
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I loved your Ramadan works with the JJK characters. It's so nice to see another muslimah who writes for JJK :)). I am not sure if you are still actively posting, but would you consider writing a piece with the cast's reaction to the hijab and abaya? JazakAllah!
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jjk characters with a muslim/hijabi reader [gojo edition]
gojo x reader [platonic or romantic it's open to interpretation]
w/c: 955 words
a/n: i got so carried away writing gojo's i realised if i added more characters, it'd be an incredibly long post. so i took them out and i'm gonna post them over the next couple weeks <33 so far i have megumi, nanami, itadori and nobara lmk if you want anymore characters :)) also guys pls feel free to send requests/suggestions :))
also anon you're the sweetest person every thank you so so much you've single handedly given me motivation to keep writing and ive got more works coming out. i hope you're having an amazing day inshaAllah bestie 💗
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Gojo definitely thinks you’re doing a cosplay of some sort. It’s not uncommon in certain parts of Tokyo, so it’s safe to assume so most of the time. Even he’s been mistaken for Kakashi cosplays a lot of the time, with his black get-up and blindfold.
But then he sees you wearing different colour hijabs and abayas, and sometimes even a cute lil jilbabs and it confuses him. Suddenly, the thought occurs to him that maybe you’re not in a 24/7 cosplay, like him, and actually just dress covered head to toe.
As soon as he reaches that epiphany you best believe he pesters you and badgers you for answers. “y/n are you cold? is that why you’re always dressed like that?”
At first, you think it’s funny to give him nonsensical answers because he keeps saying stupid things, but you realise he's being deadly serious. plus, he gets increasingly bothersome, so you eventually get annoyed from all his questioning and just tell him about how you’re a Muslim and observe hijab.
He actually takes it quite seriously and apologises for lowkey making fun of your shitty cosplay in his head. He’s ignorant, not prejudiced, so he defo takes it back and, for once, takes accountability and apologises for his actions. He’s personally not a believer, but he respects it.
Once, you complained about how expensive abayas were becoming and how you just wished someone would just buy you a whole wardrobe of them to all the students, and he happened to overhear.
Literally days later he’s at your door with multiple bags full of abayas and hijabs and all sorts of modest clothing. You’re completely shick shack shook and don’t know what to say. You defo cry and try to hide it with your headscarf.
He barges into your room (after making sure you’re fully covered, he's learnt from that mistake) and spends the next 5 or so hours showcasing each item and telling you where in the world he got it from, the materials and everything.
He has really good taste in colours and styles and knows what would look good on you. You’re literally set for life. Absolutely refuses to let you pay him back. Every single time you mention money, he shuts you down and changes the topic entirely.
In summer he’s shocked you look relatively calm and okay. He’s literally boiling his bum off with a tank top (I’m laughing at imagining Gojo in a white tank top like an immigrant dad lmaoo) and you’re looking as fresh as daisies with everything covered. He asks how you're not melting and you’re waffling to him about airflow and how it’s actually quite breezy, and you’re not wearing anything underneath, so it’s fine, and he stops breathing and short circuits.
He looks at you with his eyes wide, and his sun reddened face goes a shade darker. "You’re not wearing anything underneath?" He takes it the completely wrong way, and you realise what it sounds like, and you’re both a bumbling mess.
It's the first time anyone’s ever seen Gojo that flustered.
Also some quickfire headcanons:
He genuinely thought you slept and showered with your hijab on, so he burst into your room one day and you screamed and he immediately warped somewhere else when he saw you wearing pyjamas (he didn’t see anything above your clothed knees, he panicked and left so quickly plus he was scared to look).
Gets you cute little clips to put on your hijab. He thinks they’re pretty.
Is absolutely devasted you can’t have mochi and some other desserts because they have pork gelatine in them and he always tries to find vegan alternatives.
Purposefully steps on your abaya/dress when it's flowing and he's behind you to annoy you.
Has extra pins pinned onto his uniform for you just in case you need them.
This is a secret he’ll take to his grave, but he actually tried to make you one of his favourite desserts you couldn’t eat (he threatened the bakery for the recipe), but it went so disastrously wrong he gave up and didnt want to face the embarrassment.
I’m talking melted plastic in the oven, small kitchen fire, eyebrows singed, and potential carbon monoxide poisoning bad.
You wore this specific shade of light blue once with a cream khimar, and for some reason, he was absolutely obsessed with that outfit. It wasn't until Nobara pointed out that your outfit matched Gojo's colour scheme did he finally realise why <33
The abaya sizing really confused him and he was so baffled as to what the numbers meant. Wdym size 52 what does that even measure 😭😭
He was faffing about for 2 hours before he realised he could've just googled it, and he felt absolutely stupid about it.
Whenever he sees a bit of your hair accidentally peeking out he covers his eyes and screams at you to "cover yourself woman goddammit". He's so dramatic honestly.
Thinks it’s hilarious seeing you run in your abaya. He thinks its the funniest thing in the world.
Once (he's lying defo more than once) he was zoned out while watching you and his heart started beating faster when he realised how beautiful you are with your long dress blowing in the breeze and your hijab lightly fluttering. You looked ethereal. He didn't know what to think, and he pushed his feelings back down. Deep deep down.
He doesn't need unnecessary feelings complicating things, but for some reason, his heart still yearns for you.
He also makes terrorist jokes about you to you. I will not explain that one, but he 100% does.
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© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work in any way, shape, or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.
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roxtron · 2 months
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Day 5: Rabbit, Reclaim
AGJGDFJF FINALLY IT'S DAY 5 SO I CAN POST THIS
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For some reason everytime i draw him he looks so young because i'm accidentally overcorrecting since i'm used to drawing older characters. So unfortunately he looks way younger than i meant him to lol, whoops.
But wait there's more- AHAHAHA
While I did initially plan this for GGY week I eventually got the idea to use this as an excuse to draw other GGY designs, soo..
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(Not sure why tumblr formatted it that way with 1 of them big but it doesn't matter lol)
I've been wanting to do this for a while, I put the tags of each person next to their design but ofc I'm still gonna tag them in the post itself so you can see their art for yourself if you haven't already. But I enjoyed each of these in their own ways so if you don't mind I think I'm gonna type a bit of text next to them..
@chipistrate This was one of the first I drew out of these, the design was pretty fun to draw but sorry if I messed up a few details, it was a bit difficult lol. The mask and goggles are really fun to draw and they make for a cool design, along with all the glowing blue. (and yes, I tried to subtly include the heelies lol)
@lunzi0 This was the first fursuit one I did lol. I adore the little stars in the design, they personalize it so well and make it really unique. I wanna try this design again since I feel like the other ones show my improvement a bit better, but I hope you can appreciate the effort I put in on my first attempt <3
@carouselrabbit This one was really fun to draw, I absolutely love the eye shape/lashes, it stands out and I always love drawing eyes with a bit of eyeliner lol, the daycare theme legwarmers is a cool nod to the balloon boy arcade machine being connected to them, and was just a fun addition in general lol, I like the style of legwarmers what can I say, fnaf changed my fashion sense a bit. also the subtle paraells to freddy's design is a nice way to connect a bit to gregory himself.
@puhpandas I can't remember if I talked about this design last time I drew it but, overall I'm really happy with how this came out, it's such an indicator of improvement since I started drawing this and I'm glad I was able to draw it better than last time lol. All the patchwork and similarities to Vanny's suit work really well, and the rabbit you chose to base it off of was a good fit, the colors make it a bit more difficult to shade for but i like detail lol, hope you like it too :)
@dykevanny I knew I wanted to do this since I started but I wasn't sure if I'd have time, and I'm glad I did! I hope you don't mind I combined aspects from the first design I saw and the second one you replied to my ask with, I liked the big purple sleeves lol. (I just realized after doing all the shading I forgot to include the oil splatter on his jacket, sorry!) It was definitely a bit difficult due to the head shape being so different but.. fluffy. i love drawing fluff. And the glowing swirl on the goggles, the shape of the ears, I love a lot about this design. :D
I have a hard time with writing compliments but I wanted to get some of those thoughts out, some of the things I like about these designs apply to multiple lol. I adore every one of these designs but I find it hard to put into words what I enjoy about them, hope the original creators are happy with these. <3
I also kept the ggys without as much lighting effects on a separate file, I felt like I should add them since they're a bit brighter lol, makes them look different.
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Okay now that I've gotten all that- Sorry this post is so long! I didn't think it'd end up taking up so much space lol. Buut.. working on this drawing and thinking about it and potential context behind it gave me an au idea for it, but I'll put it under the cut since I understand most people probably won't care and just wanna see the drawings lol.
Idk if I'm confident enough to write for it but I'll give a bit of a summary.. I'll keep it under the cut for people who aren't interested and just wanna see the art though lol.
After the main events of SB and Ruin, now that the mimic's been set free, Cassie's taken control of by what's left of Vanny, using her as a new host. But with Cassie being the only human left alive down there, after being reawakened, Dr. Rabbit has nowhere left to go but back to his old host.
Vanessa, Freddy, and Gregory hadn't gone back to the Pizzaplex after ruin, but they were trying to figure out a plan to get Cassie back safely. One night after Freddy and Gregory disappear, Vanessa leaves to go find them. As dangerous as the pizzaplex is, it's her best guess for where they might've gone. She doesn't want to think about what could've happened to them, in denial for the worst case scenario. She tries to keep herself calm by telling herself they probably just left to go back for Cassie, maybe they didn't want her stopping them.. but deep down she knows it can't be that simple. She knows something's off, even if she's not ready to admit it.
When returning to the pizzaplex, she brought along her own V.A.N.N.I. mask, though unlike the one Cassie used, it was clear of the mimic's influence. After all, she was going to need some way to travel through potential blocked routes.
By the time she found Gregory, she'd still been wearing the mask, seeing him down the end of a dark hallway. He looked confused, afraid, his mind was a wreck of conflicting emotions. She started rushing towards him, happy to see him okay, until he finally spoke.
"You need to get out of here."
She stepped back, taking off the mask, only to be faced with the worst case scenario.
It was a wreck, covered in stains and tears, but it was still recognizable. He was wearing that old suit again.
As he waved, she could see Freddy's claws peeking out from the doorway, as the two stepped closer towards her.
So, she did what he told her to do, and started running. She could hear a faint voice coming from the mask, and put it back on before finding somewhere she could hide.
It was his voice again, telling her which way to go.
I guess that was the dramatic way to summarize the main idea behind it, lol. Basically Gregory and Dr. Rabbit work the way Sun and Moon work in Ruin, whichever one is in control in the real world, the other is left behind in the AR world. Or at least that's my interpretation of how they worked, considering Sun was always in mask-on scenes and moon was mask-off. I'm not too sure where the plot might go from there, and maybe I'll consider writing for it, I dunno. I've never wrote fanfic before because I get deadly afraid of writing them out of character lol, but maybe?? I have ideas for scenes and premise and stuff but I don't know if I have the confidence to write it.
But anyway! That was just more of a fun side-idea I came up with while working on this, if you read this far thanks, hope you enjoyed :)
here's some silly little lineless doodles as a reward for making it to the end hehe
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now that's what I call an art dump
@ggyweek2024
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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Could you do headcanons for what the members of the bad batch would be like as husbands??
The best kind? The hot kind? The wholesome kind? Everything.
Pairing: Hunter, Crosshair, Tech, Wrecker, Echo x Reader
Tags: fluff, domestic, space husbands, cuddles, kissing, bathing together, sharing clothes, flirting
A/N: All of them are lovely but if I had to pick it'd have to be Hunter.
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Hunter would be the first one up in the morning, a routine carried over from the war. He tries not to wake you up with it though, instead really loving to take a shower later and cuddle back up in bed with you if you don't get up in the meantime.
He never forgets your anniversary. Even if he's away when it happens he will bend over backwards to make time to call you and tell you everything he loves about you without fail. His dedication to you is his most admirable trait, he never lets you feel like you're alone or undeserving of love and his full attention.
"Stop grilln' me sweetheart, I ain't telling you nothin'. What kind of surprise would it be then? And actin' surprised isn't gonna work either so stop lookin' at me like that. They ain't takin' me away on our anniversary this time and that's a bloody promise. Of course I mean it, have I ever lied to you?"
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Crosshair is as strict when he's married as he is as a soldier. He has a schedule, he has a way of doing things, he expects things to go a certain way. He's very serious about keeping things in order.
A bit of a neat freak. He makes it fun though, there's always music in the background and he pulls you in for a dance and a kiss and a an occasional slap on the ass. Takes things too seriously sometimes which can be a lot to deal with but it's nothing you're not used to by now, at least you can always be sure he's being honest in the things he says, and he has a lot, really a lot, of things to say to you.
"If you keep that up doll I'm dropping this and picking you up instead. We can cuddle later, just let me finish this first. Oh? And what sort of compromise were you thinking? Temping, very tempting. Hm... I knew there was a reason I married you. Ouch! It was a joke! Yes, I know a rare one, savor it, like I'll savor you."
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Tech is a planner. He always plans your dates, your anniversaries, your vacations, and is the handyman around the house while you handle the rest of the chores that he's not that skilled at. He tried to cook once and... well he doesn't speak of that incident anymore.
He's still not the best at relaxing after a long day so he lets you take the reins, lets you drag him to the couch or a warm bath for cuddles before he dozes off with his head on your lap. He has an alarm set so he never oversleeps, even when he's dead tired. Lucky for him you've developed a similar sleeping schedule so he's never alone for long.
"I was thinking we can choose that for our next vacation spot. I'm able to take a whole two weeks off soon and I know you like that place sweetie. I will spend the whole duration of it with you I promise, no distractions to speak off. Except for you that is."
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Wrecker is the kind of husband that carries your photo with him everywhere and brags about you to everyone who he happens to get friendly with. Which is a lot of people. So you can bet that there are a bunch of people out there who know all about how much he loves you.
Goes bonkers when you wear his clothes. He absolutely melts at the sight. It's cute, it's funny how big his shirt and pants are on you. Because he knows you like them he always brings extra whenever the two of you go anywhere together. Always cuddles with you when he's home, you will not get away from this mans hugs and kisses if you try. But why would you?
"What? Can't I stare at my sweet stuff looking sweet wearing my stuff? Heh, yer a dream come true I tell ya. I wanted to surprise ya so I told the boys to keep our arrival on the downlow. It worked didn't it. Come here, I need me some sugar, and Force knows ya've got plenty."
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Echo is very openly affectionate as a husband. He's never not holding your hand or smiling at you, alone or in company. He feels very lucky to have someone like you in his life, the best thing in his life really, and he will spend every waking moment remind you of that.
Makes you breakfast every morning, regardless of if he's leaving for a mission or not you can expect the two of you to eat together when he's home. Likes to wrap his arm around you from behind and kiss the crown of your head when you're in bed. Always ready to listen and give advice.
"I did not stay up late love, you're just up very, very early. It's not even four in the morning. Why did I stay up? Ah come one now, how else was I gonna get everything ready on time to surprise you? Losing one night of sleep is nothing to me. I've stayed up for worse, seeing you smile? That's all the reason I need to be the best that I can ever be."
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cod-dump · 1 year
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Imagine how funny this shit would be if ghost's mom was scottish. Like- all the "english mactavish" is just simon being a (huge) little shit bc he understands what he's saying 100%. Ghost knows more scots gaelic than soap, soap would be livid. But also- si's ma moved to england (probably as a teen), met his dad, had him and tommy. Si's dad is a canon shitface so he was probably a real ass about her accent too. She wasn't allowed to use her scots slang or gaelic so her teaching simon was something just for them, one bit of defiance to the monster she married. It'd be very dear to simon. (He becomes gma mactavish's fave within seconds when he returns her gaelic greeting fluidly)
Your Mother’s Legacy
SoapGhost
___
He never liked the name ‘Riley’. It will always be his father’s name, not his. He was ‘Mr. Riley’ so when people refer to Ghost as such he cringes. He remembered sitting in Price’s office talking about it. He didn’t go there with any real purpose in mind, just to talk.
“I’ve been thinking about using my mother’s name.”
“‘Lieutenant Simon Osburn’. Has a ring to it.”
Ghost was deep into paperwork involving changing his name when Soap joined. Meeting a genuine Scot honestly excited Ghost. Growing up, when it was just Ghost and his mother, they would speak in Gaelic. She taught him slang while speaking in her real accent. Though Ghost remembered that accent being forced away by his father. His mother quickly picked up an English accent to keep him calm.
“Why did I marry such dirty hag who can’t even speak English!”
When Soap first rattled off some Scottish slang, Ghost don’t know what came over him.
“Speak English, MacTavish.”
Ghost hated how much he sounded like his father in that moment. He felt hot shame bubble up inside of him but Soap didn’t back down. He nagged him, pushed, kept speaking those ridiculous phrases that Ghost loved. Ghost gave him shit for it each time. But it turned from something his father would do to fond teasing that Soap admitted to liking one evening, nursing a beer.
“I thought you were just some piece of shite Brit. But now I don’t see that.”
Time blended together. One moment Ghost and Soap were arguing every second and the next they were laying in bed together, limbs tangled as they kept snoozing the alarm to give them more time to cuddle. One moment Ghost had maybe a couple pictures on his phone for work and next moment his camera roll was filled with pictures of Soap. Soap doing something silly, Soap doing something cute or sexy. Just Soap.
He became completely enamored with this man. Any time away from him was unbearable. He was gone for a week and returned to Soap waiting, welcomed with kisses and warm hugs. At some point people started to associate them as one person, ‘Lieutenant Sergeant Ghoap’. It was the stupidest name Ghost had ever heard but he couldn’t deny he had a fondness for it. Apparently they were the favorite couple on base. He doubted that.
“I wanna take ya home with me,” Soap muttered to him one evening in bed.
Ghost lifted his head from his chest, “What?”
“I wanna take ya home to Scotland with me. To meet my family.”
Ghost’s heart soared when Soap cupped his face, nothing but love in his eyes.
“Mo chridhe,” Soap mutters to him, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips.
Ghost wanted to cry. His mother taught him some phrases, sweet things to call someone when he finally found the one. She would call him all kinds of sweet things, as well. He was her mo leanbh. Even well into his adult years, after Tommy and Beth had Joseph. She would greet him with a tight hug.
“Mo leanbh! I swear you get taller every day!”
Ghost long gave up the thought of calling someone his mo leannan after his family was taken from him. After he lost himself and became Ghost, burying Simon deep within. He gave it all up and admittedly forgotten a lot of what his mother taught him. But having Soap in his arms, kissing him and breaking down that wall where Ghost buried Simon and all his mother’s teachings… He was determined to learn again. But he couldn’t bring himself to ask Soap. Couldn’t bring himself to admit to knowing what Soap was saying and choosing to bully him.
Ghost spent three months learning what he could from the internet. He kept it all hidden from Soap, still unsure how to tell him. He knew he was overthinking it but he still was too anxious to just tell Soap. So he continued to practice until the day came that they would be flying out to Scotland. Soap caught Ghost pacing and surprised him with a hug.
“Don’t worry, babe. They’re going to love you. Even if you are a Brit.”
Ghost smiled at the joke as Soap kissed his cheek before leaving. Ghost groans when Soap was out of sight, pulling out his phone to check the email that he had received from Price a couple days ago.
“All your documents have been updated!”
Ghost sighs. This was drawing out far longer than what it should. He should’ve told Soap from the start but he didn’t. And now they were leaving for the airport to catch their flight. Price had an idea of what Ghost was doing, it didn’t take him long to catch Ghost bullying Soap for his Gaelic.
“You could’ve gone about this differently.”
“I’m already too far down this rabbit hole, John.”
Price had laughed at that and wished him luck. Ghost was one negative thought away from a panic attack the entire flight. But Soap kept his mind busy by talking about all the places he wanted to take him when they get to Scotland. He talked about his family, his parents, his sisters, his grandmother.
“My gran speaks Gaelic more than she does English.”
Ghost nods, “Don’t act surprised?”
“Don’t act surprised. And none of your ‘speak English’ comments. She may be old but she’ll put you in your place real quick!”
Ghost nods, panic bubbling up the rest of the flight. He should’ve said something ages ago. But after the ‘speak English’ comments, would Soap had even believed him? The plane landed and Ghost was a fidgeting mess as they got their rental car and Soap drove them to his hometown. He was excitedly pointing almost the entire drive, a grin never leaving his face. When the house came into view Ghost had to take a deep breath and prepare himself.
The car was swarmed by Soap’s sisters who hugged their brother. Soap directed their attention at Ghost and he, too, was pulled into multiple hugs. He never expected to be welcomed so quickly. Ghost even teared up when they immediately called him ‘brother’ and pulled him into the house with Soap in tow. Soap’s mother was the next to greet them. She, of course, grabbed Soap first and hugged him tight. She gave him a big kiss. Then she saw Ghost.
“Look at ya! Yer more handsome than the pictures!”
Ghost was pulled into an awkward hug due to the height difference (she was shorter than Soap). But the warmth from it made him melt. She was no way near similar to his own mother in appearance. She was shorter, not as thin, darker skin— Overall she appeared much healthier than his mother. But her voice… the accent, the adoration in it. It brought him back to those days when Tommy was running the streets and his father was on another binge. Just him and his mother.
They spent a lot of time in the kitchen. The vent behind the fridge is where his mother would hide photos and other personal items that Mr. Riley would’ve destroyed if he found them. She would talk to him Gaelic, and he would parrot back what he heard. She would smile and gently correct him if he made a mistake. Those times in the kitchen was the only time peaceful time they both had in that house. The only time his mother smiled without fear and was her true self. But then Mr. Riley would come home and she would shrivel up.
“Come along, dear! Isaiah! Come in here!”
Soap’s father was nothing like Soap in appearance. But that attitude was definitely something Ghost saw in Soap. He was given a beer and directed into the family room. And there was Soap’s grandmother. She was humming a song that Soap waited until was over before he sat next to her and gave her a hug. She eagerly hugged her grandson. And she started talking to him in Gaelic.
“Bha mi gad ionndrainn, mo shionnach beag!” (I missed you, my little fox.)
“I missed ya, too, Gran.”
Soap looked over at Ghost and waved him over. Ghost took a big swig of his beer, earning a laugh from Soap’s father, before walking over. The old woman looked at him with a thoughtful look. She studied him for a moment before smiling.
“Halo, òganach. Ye must be my grandson’s man.”
“Madainn mhath dhut.” (Good morning to you.)
Soap’s face instantly went into pure shock. He stared at Ghost like he said he killed god as his grandmother’s face lit up in pure delight.
“Bha dragh orm gun robh am madadh-ruadh beag a’ toirt dhachaigh Breatannach! Ach tha mi faicinn gun tug e deagh Albannach leis!” (I was worried that the little fox was bringing home a Brit! But I see he brought a good Scotsman with him!)
Ghost breathed out as Soap’s father wrapped his arm around his shoulder, “Aye! Ye speak Gaelic better than my son!”
Ghost blushes, looking at Soap who was still in shock. His jaw hung open and Ghost could see the gears turning. Ghost was pulled onto a couch by Soap’s mother as his father sits next to Soap.
“Cò a theagaisg thu?” (Who taught you?”
“My mother. She was a proper Scotswoman.”
Ghost didn’t know how but Soap managed to look even more shocked when he said that. Ghost was worried his face was going to get stuck like that if he kept it up.
“Yer mother taught ya well!”
“Ye have ta forgive us for judging. The name Simon Riley isn’t quite scream Scot.”
Ghost laughs, “I actually changed it. Took my mother’s name. Simon Osburn.”
Ghost was deeply concerned by Soap by this point. His father noticed he went too long without saying anything and elbowed him in the ribs without even looking at him.
“John, yer lucky you found yerself a Scot. Ah was questionin’ ya when ye said he was a Brit.”
Soap makes an unintelligible noise, his face screaming like he was looking at Ghost for the first time at a new angle. Ghost was sweating due to the intensity of Soap’s gaze. He couldn’t pick up any anger from him, thankfully. But he still feared what the man was going to say when he finally snapped out of his shock. They spent several hours talking, Soap’s family digging into Ghost to learn what they could about him.
He gave them the censored version of his life story and eventually Soap’s mother and grandmother got up to go start dinner. Soap’s father quickly followed them, leaving Ghost and Soap with his sisters.
“Got yerself a real keeper, John.”
Soap finally looks away from Ghost and he felt like he could finally breathe.
“Yea… Love, let’s go settle in our room.”
Ghost tenses but he follows. Once they were upstairs and as soon as the door closed Soap turned to Ghost.
“What. The. Fuck?! Since when do you know Gaelic?! And since when is your mother Scottish?!”
Ghost stutters, “Since my whole life?”
Soap gaps, waving his hands around but no words came out of his mouth. Ghost breathes out. Two of the things he was worried about Soap reacting to were now out there. And Ghost wasn’t sure how Soap was taking this considering this was in the middle of ‘what the actual fuck how dare you’ and ‘oh, okay’.
“You, since we’ve first met, have been telling me—“
Ghost backed away as Soap spaced out his words.
“To speak fucking English. This whole fucking time—“
“Baby-“
“WHEN YOU ALSO DIDN’T SPEAK ENGLISH?!”
Ghost gulps, realizing this was dead on ‘what the actual fuck how dare you’. Ghost is shoved back onto the bed and Soap was on him. Ghost was surprised by the kiss Soap captured him in. It took his breath and he gasped for air when Soap pulled away.
“You fuck! You always been a nyaff! Always! But this- Oh oh- THIS! This upgrades ya, feartie dobber! How dare ya keep this from me!”
“Love-“
“Haud yer weesht!”
“Baby-“
Soap covers his mouth, glaring down at him, “Shut yer pus! Ah’m tired of hearin’ ya talk!”
Ghost couldn’t help but adore Soap’s accent as it thickened in his rage. He moves Soap’s hand off his mouth.
“Mo leannan.“
Soap freezes above him. The rage almost instantly melted away and Soap swallows hard. He cups Ghost’s face, Ghost’s hand going to the back of his head.
“Tha gaol agam ort.” (I love you.)
Soap chokes out a sob, “Tha gaol agam ort cuideachd.” (I love you, too.)
Soap kisses him, this time much softer. Ghost wraps his arms around Soap’s shoulders, not wanting the man to have even a opportunity to leave. Though he knows that he wouldn’t. Soap pulls away, smiling broadly.
“I was worried when I fell for you. Glad to see that my heart found me a Scot rather than a Brit.”
Ghost laughs, Soap kissing his neck, “Never did like the English side. To be honest the only good Brits I’ve ever met are Price and Gaz. Everyone else is on thin ice.”
Soap laughs against Ghost’s neck.
“Dhia, I love you.”
They lay there, enjoying each other’s warmth and presence. Soap breaks the silence after maybe ten minutes.
“Osburn, huh?”
“Mhmm.”
“I like that… ‘John Osburn’ has a ring to it.”
Ghost grins, eyes looking to his bag where the ring he’s been hiding for a couple weeks lays hidden.
“Yea… it does.”
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amerricanartwork · 4 months
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I saw your lilypad art post, and I got curious: why do you enjoy lilypad? it's not a common RW ship, so I'd be interesting to hear what about it you enjoy!
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Hear me out, guys... I must explain myself before I get onto the Lilypad essay.
I made that original comment because, at the time, I wanted to just get the aforementioned headcanons out as soon as possible. Understand, my reluctance wasn't because I didn't want to talk about Lilypad, but rather the exact opposite: I had so many feelings about it, yet had put so little effort into expressing them in a coherent, presentable format that I just knew it'd distract me for the next week or two if I let it rent too much space in my conscious thoughts. But now that little comment has left me with several people asking me to share those thoughts, and, both thankfully and unfortunately, I simply can't resist indulging in thoughts about the characters I love—!
Keep in mind, I haven’t finished Saint campaign yet, and even then I’ve found like less than half the broadcasts in Spearmaster campaign yet, so there’s likely some extra canon info I may be missing that could add to or change some of what I say here. I also apologize if some of what I write here seems really out-of-character. I try not to let my passion for my little headcanons and scenarios make me disregard the canon, but even so, I might slip and think up some weird things occasionally. Nonetheless, I feel like I’ve got enough of the picture to start confidently enjoying this ship, so I’ll talk about it anyway! 
As always, feel free to add to these ideas if you can! Without further delay, enjoy this 3381-word essay, with a few initial headcanons sprinkled in, on why I adore Lilypad!
Oh, and just in case, if you couldn’t already tell, major Hunter campaign spoilers below.
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Quetzalli on Loving Lilypad
I’m gonna start this out with a preface: I can generally find the appeal in a lot of different ships and the art other fans make for them, but for me to ship something enough to actively draw it and make my own headcanons about it and such (outside of, perhaps, gifts for other people), it usually has to contain a variety of “ship tropes” that I personally fancy. Many of my most-favorite ship tropes tend to be the ones that aren’t just cute, but that carry narrative significance and seem poetic in some way, usually because they can facilitate character arcs in the involved characters. The more of these a ship has, or the more ship tropes I can portray it with without it seeming too out-of-character, and the more I like those specific tropes, the better. This principle is a major reason why I’ve gravitated towards Artimand as my main slugcat ship, but for now, I’m going to focus on which of these I see in Lilypad — in canon content, other fan-portrayals, and my personal headcanons — that, as opposed to other iterator ships, has currently won me over.
I’m gonna describe the main general things I like seeing in this ship. Some of them are more due to fandom portrayals than what’s in the canon, but they all play a big role in my current love for Lilypad. 
Synergy
I’ll begin with how I really appreciate just how much synergy Looks to the Moon and No Significant Harassment are shown to have, at least in fan content! I always like seeing pairings where the characters aren’t just romantic, but also work really well together as a team or even just as friends. After all, just because the characters may be romantically in love doesn’t mean they must only show it in explicitly romantic ways. To me, Lilypad strikes me as a relationship where Sig and Moon would make an amazing team in many aspects of their lives, whether it's collaborating on projects, sharing their interests, or trying to maintain order in the rest of their group. And their compliment is just really sweet to me, though I’ll get to that later.
A Shoulder to Lean On/The Lady
One of my favorite ship tropes is “character with a lot of weight on their shoulder who finally gets to lift it off and be ‘normal’ for once when around the other”. I’ve always found it sweet when characters like this, especially ones who are normally very selfless, finally get a chance to indulge and enjoy themselves for once! And once again, this is another thing I imagine in Artimand too, and you could project this onto Trafficlights given Suns’s implied high status, but I think it works especially with Lilypad, given Moon’s role as group senior means she objectively has a lot to manage all the time with no permanent escape from it. Even beyond the whole Five Pebbles rot drama, Moon probably had a lot on her plate just in terms of maintaining order between the rest of the group and setting a good example to the younger generations, especially as the group expanded over time, not to mention trying to find the solution herself. Combine this with how I picture her to be the kind of person who cares a lot about her image as a “proper” and  “dignified” leader, and someone who often sacrifices her own desires to promote the group’s welfare, I just find it really soft for her to have someone to lean on, metaphorically (and in a worm-off-the-string scenario, literally), and who better to go to than her best teammate, who knows the power of a good laugh and will stop at nothing to have fun with those he loves? Not to mention, since I headcanon Sig as slightly younger than Moon (2nd gen, specifically), I just find it rather cute in an ironic sense that the older, more serious Moon is soft around the younger, far more chaotic Sig, especially as Moon would go through the realization that she actually kinda likes this little troublemaker! 
This also comes back to something I mentioned in the tags of that beepsnort post, which is that one of my other favorite ship tropes is “guy who loves/is good at making people laugh x girl who has a REALLY weird/embarrassing laugh”, and that just works so well with Lilypad! It’s admittedly a very headcanon-based thing for me, but given how I’ve already explained my perception of Moon as very proper and serious, I imagine one of the best ways Sig takes the weight off her shoulders is by being the only person who can consistently make her laugh so hard! And with the beepsnort headcanon it’s even cuter, because of course Moon would be super embarrassed every time she even so much as gives a half-chuckle at one of his jokes, because Sig is relentless when it comes to getting the giggles out of her, and he won’t stop until she’s rolling and shaking on the floor of her chamber, her beepy-snorts filling the room! My GODDD I love this trope so much, and for beings who are inherently such workaholics, I think getting to genuinely relax and have fun for a bit, once she gets over the initial shock and embarrassment, would be something Moon would really come to value.
Inverses Attract/The Tramp
I’ve mentioned it in my last Artimand headcanons post, but one of my absolute all-time favorite ship tropes is the classic “opposites attract”, although I prefer the name “inverses attract”. As I like to portray it, the trope not only involves characters who are opposites personality-wise, but those being opposites of the same core aspect, and ultimately helping balance each other out by offering the other half of the equation to each other (hence the name “inverses”). The trope I just wrote about above is how Sig helps Moon to relax and have fun, but as I try to do with all ships, how does it work the other way too? Well, I really like to imagine Sig learning to be more openly serious and dedicated! Don’t get me wrong, Sig is a hard worker (it’s pretty much the nature of all iterators), but given he seems to pretty strongly reject the quest for the Triple Affirmative, I imagine the next problem would be in him finding a new purpose to strive for. And what better new purpose than in standing by and protecting the group senior he thinks he just might wanna be more than friends with?
It already works because Moon, of course, would work to keep Sig in check and make sure he doesn’t go too overboard with his shenanigans. But just imagine how inspired he’d grow over time seeing Moon work so hard to keep the group together and keep them striving for their purpose, even if he doesn’t agree with it. I imagine it’s why Sig’s methods are still rather controlled rather than purely chaotic, and there’s a reason to his rebellion. Thanks to Moon, rather than slaving away at a seemingly impossible solution until his mind collapses with his structure, he’ll use his talents to, at the very least, keep the local group together as long as possible, because even if they’ll all be gone one day, that doesn’t mean they have to go alone!
It’s why I’m also labeling these two tropes together as “the Lady and the Tramp”, yet another ship dynamic that gets me every time! It’s a specific instance of “inverses attract” where the noble, proper lady finds a taste of freedom and courage from the dangerously charming tramp, who from her finds a new sense of purpose and honor! And in my opinion, Lilypad is most definitely the best opportunity for this dynamic among Rain World ships!
The Fated Couple
Slow-burn couples seem to be pretty popular in many fandoms, but what about a really slow-burn? There’s something just so romantic to me about the idea that Moon and Sig, from the moment they met, have always just clicked so perfectly, and have been by each other’s side so constantly ever since, to the point it seems practically inevitable to everyone (except them of course) that they’ll eventually get together romantically. Of course, there are two main roadblocks to their romance being 1.) their whole objective and purpose for being created is kind-of fundamentally opposed to strong attachments like love (I mean, if Karma 3 is Companionship, wouldn’t romantic love be considered the worst example of that?), and 2.) even if they did reject this purpose, being massive immovable structures with the only humanoid part stuck deep inside a box, a budding romance seemingly couldn’t really go anywhere anyway. In fact, because of these roadblocks much of my Lilypad imaginings take place in the ever-popular “worm-off-the-string” scenario, especially since the next couple of reasons for why I like the ship play a lot into the themes I like to incorporate in this story concept. 
However, these issues towards such a romance are also what make it so sweet in the end! Just think of Moon, alone in her chamber, beginning to worry about how she’s actually kinda sorta, maybe, hypothetically, possibly, just a little bit starting to like the carefree and charismatic Gen 2 in the local group as even more than just a work partner and a dear friend, but oh no, that’s indulging in a Karmic Sin, and as group senior she can’t just throw away their purpose like that and set such a bad example to the rest! What’s she gonna do?? And then on the other side, Sig puzzling in his chamber, pining so hard for the group senior yet seemingly unable to confess, because, even disregarding Karma 3 and the fact that giant immobile calculators aren’t about to be snuggling any time soon, why would someone as perfect and powerful as her want someone like him, so dismissive of their core purpose and unorthodox in his methods? Is there even a point in having these feelings at all, when they might very well end up simply fading to dust along with the rest of his structure?
Maybe, they both think, it’d be better to just keep these feelings to themselves and quietly love from a distance. That is, until…
Moon’s Collapse and the Slag Reset Keys
The fourth reason is, of course, the most steeped in canon. It goes back a bit to the “shoulder to lean on” concept, but even aside from that, there is something just so romantic about this on both sides.
Firstly, from Moon’s perspective. There’s no doubt that the collapse must have been very traumatic for Looks to the Moon physically, but I like to think about just how much it’d affect her emotionally, too. I mean, being so painfully destroyed by your own brother, with seemingly nothing that can be done to stop it and no one to help you? And then consider how lonely it must have been in her final moments. The only comfort she does get is from Spearmaster’s visit, and even then she sends him off to go deliver her final words, which has still got to be really depressing. And finally, think about how betrayed she must have felt, trying so hard throughout her operation to help her citizens and the local group and be kind to everyone, only to have it be repaid like this, forced to collapse in on herself, being buried under her own body, unfathomable pain all around, and with not a soul to help her.
So then, think about just how shocking and heartwarming (literally, if you think about it) it must be when that lovable Gen 2, always so playful and carefree normally, is the one to give her a second chance and being her back when all hope seems lost, and using such a unique delivery method no less! I mean COME ON, Sig literally brought her back to life, how could one NOT fall in love with someone who did that for them? It links back to the “shoulder to lean on” idea, in that, for once, someone finally looked out for Moon and gave back to her for all the kindness she gave to the world. Think about this as the moment she truly realizes she’s in love with No Significant Harassment, and how tragic it’d be knowing now, it’s too late to say it. But, even so, if he’s willing to go this far to make sure she’s okay, then maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance her love at least wasn’t alone.
Now, my thoughts about this from No Significant Harassment’s side (which also kinda turned into a mini NSH appreciation paragraph that links back to the earlier Inverses Attract and Lady and the Tramp segment), I think it’s very poetic to see him going out of his way to take his messenger concept, originally used for no more than a trivial prank and at most a very experimental and unfinished alternative communication method, and turning it into a noble last-ditch effort to rescue the one he loves. It doesn’t just clearly show how much he cares for Moon that he worked to save her when no one else did (and if that’s because the odds of being able to do anything seemed very low to the rest of them, that makes it even more sweet) I think it shows off a lot of Sig’s character beyond just being a jokester. Like, I’d seen this kind of personality for Sig in the fandom content before, but this action and the other broadcasts are what first made me truly realize not just that it is based in canon, but that, more importantly he’s not just stupid or unfocused, he’s rebellious. He doesn’t joke around because he just doesn’t care, it’s because he’s independent, he’s got other places he wants to go and plans that don’t fit into what most of his peers are used to. He makes light of the world because he sees what others don’t, and it’s honestly pretty frickin’ funny how blind others can be most of the time (case-in-point: him making a slugcat from a messenger, which no one else thought to do because those creatures seemed too “dull” and “primitive” to ever be capable of such a thing). So think about how significant it must be when he’s openly taking something seriously. This is where that dynamic of the Tramp, and how Sig would benefit from this relationship is really highlighted. I just adore it when the easygoing, carefree character finally finds purpose in their lover, and springs into serious action like they never were before! And it makes sense too given what I said about them not getting together before: seeing Moon collapse would show him directly that even beings as durable as iterators don’t last forever, so if he’s got these feelings for Moon, he’s got to make a move while there’s still a chance! And what better way to show his love than to bring her back when all hope seems lost? Which brings me to the final aspects I’ll talk about here, first of which is…
True Love’s Kiss
Yes, you read that right. The real reason I love the slag reset keys as a plot element so much is not just because it shows Sig’s secret strength of character, not just because it finally gives reward to Moon’s kindness, but because it is a real fairytale come true! 
I know this sounds crazy and probably totally unrelated to Rain World, but think about it! You guys have probably seen Snow White and Sleeping Beauty before, or at least one of the two? Isn’t the whole trope that the beautiful princess, fairest maiden in the land, gets cursed through some means or another to die (or in Aurora’s case, fall into an indefinite sleep), which is only undone when the strong and brave prince, riding upon his noble steed, awakens the princess by giving her true love’s kiss? I already love both those movies on their own for various other reasons, but after my description, is this starting to sound familiar in another way?
I mean, with everything I’ve said about Moon in this post so far, there’s no doubt you could perceive her as the “fair princess”, who through unfortunate circumstances is put to a premature and indefinite death. And there’s no doubt Sig fills the role of the brave prince by working to save her with the slag reset keys, which in this metaphor are undoubtedly the “true love’s kiss” that ultimately conquers all, always longed for, and finally delivered! And hey, given Hunter is the one to carry the keys to Moon, a small yet courageous beast who stops at nothing to meet his goals, Sig even has his own “noble steed”! And even if Hunter is technically the one to actually deliver the green neuron, and the death the “princess” succumbs to wasn’t out of genuine malice towards her, I think the sentiment is still there and the parallel is close enough! 
But yes, as strange as it may sound, the fairytale parallel is the main reason Lilypad resonates with me so much! Those classic fairytale-esque romance tropes and that poetic storytelling found in Disney’s first feature-length animated films has always been dear to my heart, and is even more so now that I’m older and can truly appreciate the beauty of them. So now, even in my fandom experiences, ships that win my appreciation over all others are often those that manage to embody those classic romance tropes and themes as best as possible, and frankly, even Artimand loses ever-so-slightly to Lilypad in this regard! Or, as I also enjoy calling them, “Lifeline”, for reasons that are probably obvious now. 
And it’s even better when you consider…
Some Things Never Change
Another trope I’ve recently begun to love is the idea that some phenomena in the world never truly disappear, but simply manifest in different ways, sometimes unexpected ones. And given the whole Triple Affirmative quest and the Ancients’ mass ascension philosophy, this idea is something I especially love seeing in Rain World content. Even the canon events show this idea, but think about how wonderfully it would work with Lilypad beyond just the slag reset keys, especially taking up that “worm off the string” iterator AU concept some have explored in this fandom already.
Just think about how sweet it would be when Moon and Sig, operating primarily through their puppets now, get to finally hug and kiss and be with each other so directly now! Think of the way Sig would speak to Moon about how, even after her collapse, she's still somehow beautiful as ever, and Moon returning with how even all the trouble the group has faced hasn't put a dent in his charm! And it's even sweeter when you consider it’s against everything their creators stood for! Think of Moon, after everything she’s been through and how much she’s probably changed at this point, now willing to give some of these “worldly attachments” a chance, because you can never truly get rid of them, but she knows better than anyone that you won’t be around to experience them forever, so why not enjoy it while you’ve got the chance? And it’d make sense too, not just for her own benefit, but for Pebbles and the rest of the group’s sake too! She’s always strove to set a good example for them, and since their original quest has left them with nothing but pain and trauma, why not show them that maybe all these attachments aren’t so bad after all?
I just think it’d be really interesting to see Moon joining Sig in that rejection of the Triple Affirmative, and what better way to do that than by finally embracing that love they’ve felt for each other for so long? Because love never truly dies, it just appears in new people. And maybe they don’t have to spend their whole lives as grand iterators, the vast infinitely-advanced mechanical deities who embody perfection in almost every way. Maybe, even just for a bit, they can just be people, falling in love just as their creators did all over again!
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
And with that, I think I’m FINALLY done here. HOLY COW, this is easily my longest post yet, and I hope it doesn’t disappoint! Part of the reason it took so long was because I was trying to find the perfect way to express all these ideas without it just spilling out onto the page in some weird half-coherent mess. But eventually I just said “ah screw it, let’s just ramble about this ship and see where it goes!” and my god, did it go far! And I still managed to somewhat organize it, so yay!
But aside from that, thank you SO MUCH to everyone who asked for my thoughts on Lilypad, and everyone who made it to the bottom of this essay! I’ve never really gotten a chance to openly ramble about one of my favorite ships to the rest of the fandom like this, so seeing that some fans, even if it’s ultimately not a huge amount, actually wanted me to do it was such a welcome surprise!
I hope you all enjoyed the drawings and the art! I’ll be around in case someone wants me to write another ship essay or something! And who knows, it’s likely I’ll find more reasons I like Lilypad as time goes on and I see more fan-content and find the rest of those broadcasts! But at least this was a starting point! 
Expect more LIlypad content to come in the future, but until now, thanks again for the opportunity!
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dazais-guardian-angel · 8 months
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Chapter 110 is 13 pages long welcome to hell!!! so in a lot of ways this is just more fuel for a theory that I've had for a few weeks now, that's only gotten stronger with each recent season 5 episode, which is that the last episode of the season is gonna end on 110, and that Asagiri/Harukawa and Bones have been collaborating to make this happen, specifically because it's a major turning point that would be the only good place to end the season on.
When we started getting especially long chapters again (like from 25-35ish pages, with the exception of 107.5, the last two being some of the longest we've ever had), at first I just assumed that Asagiri/Harukawa got freed up from some other obligations they'd been having to cause the extremely short/half chapters, like promotional stuff for the anime/Beast movie, or working on light novels. But then 109 happened, with the "supposed" death of Dazai, and heavy emphasis at the end on how literally everyone is at their lowest point right now, and I got to thinking. 11 episodes is a strangely specific number for an anime season -- why not 12, or 13, or even 10, like you'd usually see? Why have we gotten suddenly gotten two 35 page chapters out of nowhere, that's almost unheard of at this point? They're both beautiful chapters, don't get me wrong (as always), and maybe A/H simply just didn't want to cut them in halves because they felt like the full emotional impact wouldn't hit/that there were no good cutoff points in them, but you can't deny that it's surprising, after all the shorter chapters we've been getting. Why has the anime been going at such insanely breakneck pacing for the most part ever since around the Sunday Tragedy chapters, even more so than it has in the past? So much so that it feels dangerously close to overtaking the manga?
Well, maybe, just maybe, it's because..... Asagiri decided a long time ago that whatever happens in 110 is the only point that feels "season finale"-worthy enough, in an arc that still isn't anywhere close to being completely wrapped up, and so both the manga and the anime have been specifically coordinated to reach that part within 2 and a half weeks of each other?
I've seen a lot of people now think season 5 will end with 109, and as much as my sadistic side would find that hilarious, I honestly don't think they'd do that and realistically don't want it to happen; it'd be so cruel to cliffhanger the anime for years like that, and just doesn't feel like a season cliffhanger BSD would do, a series that is ultimately hopeful and uplifting. Seasons 2 and 3 had a positive, conclusive ending; the only reasons seasons 1 and 4 didn't was because they're technically not really full seasons of their own, and are more like the first cour of another "season" that also came out that same year (seasons 1 and 2 both aired in 2016, so they're more like one big season, and seasons 4 and 5 have both aired this year, so they're also more like one big season, again taking into account how episodes 12 and 50 are not satisfying finales like episodes 24, 37, and hypothetically, 61, are). I really can't see season 5 ending with Dazai and Fukuzawa's supposed deaths, Sigma being unconscious and maybe close to death, Atsushi being vulnerable and limbless again, everyone we love still vampires, and the entire world being basically doomed; that's just too depressing and not like BSD at all. However, having said that, if it doesn't end there, there really isn't any good place to end the season before that, either, that feels in any way satisfying or like a finale at all. And so, to me, that only leaves after 109: chapter 110.
I think things are really gonna turn around next chapter. Like I said, everyone is at their lowest point right now, it cannot possibly get any worse, the framing of Dazai, Fukuzawa, and sskk at the end of 109 is telling us that; this is the time for the heroes to finally start winning again, with Aya being so close to pulling out the sword, and for all the thematic reasons other people have talked about to death that I don't need to go into here again. This upcoming chapter being so short again makes a part of me wary of 110 being "the one", so to speak, I won't lie, but at the same time, it's very possible that it needs to be that short because that's all the final episode of the season will be able to reasonably fit in, since it's already gonna be VERY close if they do make it all the way to 109. And at the end of the day, I don't doubt at all that Asagiri and Harukawa can make these the most monumental and game-changing mere 13 pages ever if they wanted to; a chapter does not at all need to be extremely long in order to be an important and impactful one, even if short ones we've gotten in the past haven't felt the most important.
An additional thought I've had, though this is much more crack territory than all this already is, is that since we know from Anime Expo that a Stormbringer movie at some point is highly likely (judging from Asagiri's reaction when someone brought it up), it's possible that chapter 110 and thus the final episode will involve the long-anticipated return of Verlaine and/or Adam, or at least some other major reference to Stormbringer, that would naturally and smoothly lead into a Stormbringer movie to explain things to people who haven't read the novel. It would make a lot of sense, especially since the s4 OP has the Old World sign behind Chuuya, which might be a hint that this has been in the works ever since seasons 4/5 were first in planning with Asagiri. We also know that Dazai and Chuuya's voice actors apparently struggled to record their lines together this season, which probably relates to 101 and possibly 109, but it could be 110 too.... I could be very wrong, as I'm no expert on this kind of thing, but I kinda doubt they would bring Chuuya's actor in for just the vampire growls, and Asagiri placing heavy emphasis on Chuuya's importance this season in that one interview gives me the impression that he's talking about much more than just 101/109. But that's the least solid evidence I have, that's just mostly based on vibes I get.
So basically, I think a lot of factors -- the unusual episode count, how close the anime is to catching up to the manga with three whole episodes left, the seemingly arbitrary recent chapter lengths, and the climactic events of 109 -- can tell us that 110 might be a very, VERY big deal. Again, there's of course no way this arc is anywhere near close to being finished, with so much left to address and resolve, but since it is currently incomplete in the manga, unlike the previously adapted arcs, if the anime was going to adapt it at all, they'd have to find a place that feels satisfying enough to end this season, knowing there won't be more anime for a long time after this, and so I think they specifically planned for that, from both Bones' and A/H's sides. 10 episodes might not have been enough to reach that point, but 12 or 13 might have been too many it wouldn't have been if Bones actually decided to slow down and let the story breathe the way it needs to, but this post isn't meant to criticize the anime, so maybe 11 was just right. And maybe Asagiri and Harukawa specifically pushed to make recent chapters longer than usual, in order to make sure that the manga reached the story content in 110 the monthly release right before season 5 was to end.
Is this just copium? Absolutely. Am I going to look like an absolute clown in two days when this post ages like milk? Probably. But the evidence is There, so let me just enjoy my delusions until Sunday, okay 🥂🫡
#bungou stray dogs#seriously call me a clown and point and laugh at me if I'm proven wrong all you want#but I really feel like there's solid evidence for this#either s5 isn't gonna reach 109 at all (but I seriously cannot fathom where you would want to stop before then) or they'll go beyond it#if they really do end it with 109....... well i'll give Bones kudos for having the balls to do that ig lol#maybe i'm underestimating (overestimating???) them idk#also just to clarify I don't wanna make it sound like I think Asagiri let the anime/Bones dictate the manga's pacing#like I'm sure these were his/their (him and Harukawa's) own decisions first and foremost#not that (if this theory is true) the anime had a major impact on how the chapters were split and that it-#-would have been extremely different otherwise#i'm pretty confident in that Asagiri does not do anything with BSD he isn't comfortable with#and he doesn't let anyone tell him how to write his story#I just feel like he worked with Bones to make this near-simultaneous release happen#BUT if this is the case I don't feel like it had any major effect on the writing/final product that is the manga#like the last handful of chapters have been so incredible#so I at least am still perfectly happy lol#(i mean i'm devastated and a nervous wreck but u know 🫡 in a good way lmao)#anyway 110 in two days please let this theory be true because I need some fucking hope already#please let Oda show up as Dazai's guardian angel to help (see what I did there-)#it would be the perfect way to end the collective season that is 4/5 with s4 beginning with Oda and now ending with Oda#Asagiri are you reading me are you picking up what I'm putting down please please a ghost Oda is long overdue please-#Oda Verlaine Adam just GIVE ME SOMEONE ALREADY 😭😭😭#MAYBE EVEN A TASTE OF THE FYODOR BACKSTORY TO TIE INTO HIM BEING IN ANIME UNTOLD ORIGINS. THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS
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