#might not read anything past this book?? idk???? but i am curious to see where this one goes. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inkvvvells · 10 months

Text

galaxy on fire - prelude (thrawn x original female character)

Title: galaxy on fire Pairing: Thrawn x OFC Rating: M (eventually) Warnings: violence, torture, blood (eventual mentions of past assault, slavery. eventual sexually explicit content) Other Things: Enemies to friends to lovers, SLOW BURN, both the Empire and Rebels suck, touched starved, competency kink… I don’t know what else lol Summary: Born into slavery on the Outer Rim, Celena thinks she finally has a surefire plan to buy her freedom from a Hutt crime family. But everything goes wrong when she’s caught by Imperials and accused of being a Rebel and just when she thinks things can’t get any worse she meets a certain Grand Admiral…

Note: This may or may not be the start of a longer fic. I’ve had this idea in my head for a while now and I haven’t posted fic in YEARS because normally I don’t want to post anything that’s not finished and I don’t finish anything but… idk. Here I am, lol. I like the idea of someone just trying to exist in this galaxy with no ties or love for either side. I know that most fic on here that people want is x reader fics but as I sometimes tldr introspection I don’t think I can pull that off for an x reader fic because I don’t want to tell anyone how to feel lol. So enjoy I guess, maybe I’ll write more. I might also rewrite this bc I’m not happy with it. I just wanted to bang this intro out and see what happens so… BASICALLY I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M DOING!!

Note 2: Also I realize that this is like confessing to sins but I haven’t read the new Thrawn trilogy. I am an expanded universe girlie and I have never emotionally recovered from them axing all of that. I’ve based this Thrawn mostly off Rebels with the EU in the back of my mind. Will I read those books? Maybe? I know Zhan wrote them and I trust him but I am a bitter, petty, salty bitch SOOOOO. There will likely be some references to things and characters from the EU (most likely Mara Jade and Thrawn’s reasons for joining the Empire). Sorry not sorry. If when I read the canon books I may incorporate parts of that. IDK.

Note 3: Also I pictured Deepika Padukone as Celena. But feel free to picture her however you want.

Note 4: I don’t really like this title so it will likely change.

—

PRELUDE

“I will ask you again, Rebel Scum,” Governor Pryce’s voice was cold as ice. “Where are the Rebels who sent you?!”

Celena’s ears were ringing and her vision was blurry. They had been like this for hours, with her strapped to a gurney and Pryce torturing her and yelling, demanding to know who sent her. It would have been funny if it hadn’t been so painful, the fact Pryce was so convinced that Celena was with the Rebellion when in fact she hated the Rebellion.

Almost as much as she hated the Empire.

Celena had been caught trying to steal a weapons cache just outside of the Imperial base on Lothal. The most curious thing about it was she had been alone. It was daring to be sure but it raised the question of who sent her. She was human, late twenties with brown skin and long almost wild dark hair. She would have been beautiful if she hadn’t been strapped down and covered in blood and grime.

“I already told you,” Celena raised her head to look up at Pryce. Her head was throbbing from the gash in it and she could feel blood trickling down her cheek. “I’m not with the Rebels.” “Do you really expect me to believe that?” Pryce leaned closer to her.

“I don’t care what you believe,” Celena winces. “It’s the truth.”

Pryce sighs overexaggeratedly and takes a step back. “There are other ways of making you talk,” she gestures to the IT-O hovering in the corner of the room. “I simply wanted to give you the opportunity to say it on your own terms.”

“Wow,” Celena rolls her eyes. “How generous of you. With all the torture I totally missed how nice you are.”

Pryce’s nostrils flare and she hits the button controlling the shock treatment, sending another course of electricity and pain through Celena’s entire body. Celena tries to hold back her scream but fails and her scream seems to only make Pryce more excited. Almost like she was getting off on this.

“I’ll give you one more chance or this is going to get very painful for you,” Pryce says menacingly. “Where are the Rebels who sent you?”

Celena can tell Pryce is getting annoyed and she can’t help but be amused by that. A smirk tugs on her lips one that seems to make Pryce even more annoyed. “Do your worst.”

Pryce snarls, she’s about to bring over the IT-0 droid when the doors to the room slide open. She freezes when she sees who has entered the room. “Grand Admiral,” Pryce tenses slightly.

“Is this the thief?” Thrawn says, not even looking at Pryce, instead his attention is on Celena.

Celena doesn’t say anything, she just looks at Thrawn. Her eyes narrow slightly as he moves to stand in front of her. She doesn’t seem impressed or scared of him.

“I was just about to use the serum on her,” Pryce replies.

“You’ve been questioning her for hours Governor,” Thrawn is still looking at Celena. “And she has yet to break. Perhaps you are losing your touch.”

“I just need more time Grand Admi–” Pryce is cut off by Thrawn raising a hand to silence her.

“You are done here Governor, you may go,” Thrawn says dismissively. Pryce bristles slightly, for a moment it looks like she’s going to protest but then she leaves. Celena chuckles weakly. “Ohh… she didn’t like that,” Celena muses. “No,” Thrawn says. He continues to stare at Celena, as if he’s trying to figure out who she is just from looking at her. “If you’re going to torture me I’ve had worse…” Celena winces as she raises her head to look up at him. She’s realizing now that unlike all the other Imperials he isn’t human, she makes a slightly confused sound. “Something amuses you?” “You’re …not human.”

“How observant of you.”

“And you’re with the Empire? …why?”

Thrawn raises a brow. It was curious to him that this woman would think to ask that when she was the one captive, she was the one being tortured. And yet she was curious about something that to him was trivial in this moment.

“What is your name?” Thrawn asks instead of replying.

It was a question that Pryce hadn’t bothered to ask her.

“Celena.” “Celena. No surname?”

“...no.”

“Are you a Rebel?” “Your friend seems to think so.”

“Governor Pryce has a tendency to be… overzealous in her methods,” Thrawn leans in closer to Celena, as if he’s studying. “Is that what you’d call it?” Celena scoffs slightly. She feels uneasy under the gaze of his glowing red eyes. She’s met Chiss before so it wasn’t his eyes that unnerved her it was something about the way he was looking at her.

“Are you going to tell me your name?” she asks.

Thrawn tilts his head. “Thrawn.”

“...your actual name.”

Thrawn pauses a moment. “Mitth’raw’nuruodo.”

“Mitth’raw’nuruodo,” she repeats. She doesn’t seem to struggle saying his name as most humans would. There is barely even a hint of an accent as she says it.

Thrawn is surprised but he doesn’t show it. He doubts this woman is with the Rebels. The Rebels wouldn’t have sent someone to do something so risky alone. Which made the question of who she really was all the more interesting. He moves to the side of the gurney Celena is strapped to and presses a button, the straps retract and the suddenness of it sends Celena falling to the floor. She hits the floor hard and groans softly.

“Bring her to my office,” Thrawn finally looks away from her, focusing on the Stormtrooper standing by the door. “I will question her there.”

Thrawn leaves the room, leaving Celena on the floor. Every part of her body aches, now that she’s on the ground it even hurts to breathe. This hadn’t gone how she hoped it would. And inwardly she feels sick. She had been so sure her plan would work she hadn’t really thought of the alternative. Or maybe at this point, she didn’t care. Getting caught by the Imperials was no worse than what she had to go back to. The Stormtrooper yanks her roughly off the floor. “Get moving Rebel Scum!”

***

Thrawn watches Celena as she uses a damp cloth to wipe the blood off her face. When she got to his temporary office he had a cloth with a bowl of warm water waiting for her as well as food. There was something different about this woman, something he found intriguing. And since torture hadn’t made her talk, he would try something else - something less crass than the interrogation droid.

“Do you always stare,” Celena asks, lowering the cloth so she can fully look at Thrawn. “You aren’t a Rebel,” Thrawn says simply. “That much is obvious.” “To you,” Celena replies, her eyes going down to the food. “It’s not tampered with,” Thrawn tilts his head. “That would defeat the purpose of bringing you here.”

“Why am I here then?” Celena lowers the cloth. There is still blood on her face. It’s dried and it’s itchy on her skin but that feels like the least of her concerns right now. What she needed was a way out here.

Thrawn doesn’t say anything right away. “I must say I’m impressed you withstood Pryce’s torture. Most would break under such duress.”

Now Celena is the one who is quiet she looks at the plate of food - basic bread, likely from those portion packets she had gotten so accustomed to eating.

“I take it you have met my kind before,” Thrawn says.

“Once,” Celena replies. She doesn’t want to elaborate on that. Instead, her attention goes to the few art pieces in the room.

Even if this was just a temporary office for Thrawn before he went back to his ship he liked to be surrounded by art. He had made sure to bring a few pieces with him, after all if he was going to be here for any length of time he needed something. He had brought one of Sabine Wren’s paintings with him, it made sense considering the Ghost crew’s ties to Lothal. And it would give him more time to study it, to understand it – to understand the Rebels.

Celena begins to wipe at the blood and grime on her face again, moving the damp cloth down to her neck. Thrawn watches her, he studies her. With some of the blood removed there really is no denying she is beautiful, it wasn’t attraction just a simple fact. He squints slightly as she wipes away the dried blood from her neck, there is a mark there…

“I know you are not a Rebel, Celena,” Thrawn stands up and moves to stand behind her chair. He leans down, putting a hand on Celena’s head to move her so he can get a better look at it. “What are you–” Celena tries to pull away from him. “This mark,” Thrawn stares at it. It isn’t just a mark, it’s a brand. “You belong to the Hutt Cartel.”

Celena pulls away from him, dropping the cloth and standing up. From the way she pulls away it’s clear she doesn’t like being touched. She crosses her arms over her chest as she glares at Thrawn. “And if I do?”

Thrawn straightens and puts his hands behind his back as he looks at her. “The Hutts would not be foolish enough to send you to steal from us and considering how you still have that brand,” he pauses for a moment. “Did you think you could give them the weapons cache in exchange for your freedom?”

Celena moves her arms tighter around herself. “Does it matter?”

“I suppose it does not,” Thrawn takes a step closer to her. “At least not to most of the Imperials here.” “You’re Imperial.”

“Yes, I am.”

For a few moments, they stood there, staring at each other. Something about the way Thrawn looks at her makes Celena’s skin crawl and soon she has to look away. Instead of looking at him she turns her attention to the painting in the corner of the room.

“You like art?” Thrawn asks.

Celena says nothing, she takes a few steps closer to it as she takes it in. The shapes, the colours, they all seem to have meaning and for a brief moment she feels a pang of jealousy. This artist had a story. A purpose. Thrawn watches her, her reaction to the piece makes him more curious about her.

It was hard not to be curious. Besides… she could become useful later. Connections to the Hutt Cartel, connections to the Outer Rim.

“This was painted by a Mandalorian,” Thrawn moves so he’s standing next to her.

“This is a story,” Celena says, still looking at the painting. “I doubt you’re supposed to have this.”

“I like to collect art from my adversaries,” Thrawn says. “It allows me to understand them better. Their motivations.” “I doubt the artist likes you have this then.”

Thrawn almost chuckles. “No, I doubt she does either.”

Celena turns to look at him then, her brow furrowed. “So what are you going to do with me then?”

“I am going to give you a room, with a proper bed,” Thrawn replies. “You will stay here until I decide what to do with you.” Celena’s mouth opens to say something. “Do not mistake this for kindness Celena. I am merely deciding how useful you could be to me. Until then you will be locked in a room. I suggest you don’t try to escape.”

Celena stares at him, there is something almost menacing about the way Thrawn says that. She knows if she tries to escape he won’t stop whatever will happen to her. It also seems clear that he knows she has nothing to escape too. Go back to the Hutts or stay here and just wait and hope that she may have a better outcome.

She didn’t have a choice. So she forces a smile.

“With Imperial hospitality, how could I refuse?”

Thrawn smirks.

#thrawn x oc #thrawn x ofc #thrawn fic #star wars fanfic #star wars oc #!mine #thrawn x celena #star wars expanded universe fic #thrawn eu

10 notes · View notes

pbs-theundeadmaggot · 1 year

Text

with ears to see and eyes to hear // broadcasting from beyond the grave

[a/n] slightly longer part named after one of my favourite songs, idk but the vibe seemed to fit (at least for me it did, mainly because writing this kinda felt like a fever dream lol) Also not proof read sorry.

[warnings?] biblical references? (not to be taken seriously because irl I am very much anti-religion and all that jazz), parental death?

series masterlist available here!

“We need to talk.” is always a sentence that leaves the feeling of dread to enter your system, especially when it comes from someone you're close with. Although, coming for a parent? well that was terrifying beyond belief, so terrifying that you might as well leave the country, change your name and burn off your fingerprints, all so you don’t have to face the reality of whatever it is that you’ve done wrong now. Did you accidently put a red sock in the laundry basket with whites? Did you leave the milk cap unscrewed again? Oh god what if you left your diary laying around and your mom found out about your not so small crush on a certain and very much off limits metal head that just so happened to live 10ft away from you? what if she was preparing to give you the safe sex talk? oh god.

You could spend hours wracking your brain for a list of things you’d probably done wrong, except you weren’t even given the luxury of a couple seconds before you were pulled out into the dark dampness of the early morning, barefeet squelching on the dewy bed of moss that lined the forest floor. Unable to see where you were going you let yourself become a dead weight, simply dragged to wherever it was your mom was taking you.

If you weren’t such a child of nature you probably would’ve been freaking out by now, worried about what mysteries hid in the darkness of the morning, buried below the dirt and slithered around. Actually now that you were thinking about it you were kind of freaking out.

An overwhelming light suddenly took over your body, feet now walking on cold hard stone as the grip around your wrist loosened. A tomb of sorts stood tall infront of you, miles of thick ivy and vines wrapped around it both inside and out. The air felt thicker inside, like it was hugging your body providing a blanket of saftey around you.

“What’s going on?” words trailing off as your mom approached the broken beam that sat in the middle of the room, laying a book of sorts atop it before beckoning you over.

“Before you say anything I need you to listen to me, okay?” Awaiting comformation from you, you nodded hesitantly both curious of what the hell was happening and scared you were genuinely going crazy because there is no way any of this could be real? You’d lived in Hawkins your whole life yet you’d never seen this place, let alone experienced anything as odd as you have the past couple days. The only thing that made sense was that you had to be dreaming and if you were, well you might as well make the most of it, not as if you had anything to lose.

“You come from a long line of originals, the first and most powerful soul binders . The legend goes that thousands of years ago there lived millions of guides who were tasked with individual powers of sorts, born to guide souls to better or to worse just as the fates intended.

It is said that no harm must come to an Original for it will return in threefold, but as you know there is no good without bad and too much of one can throw the balance off, resulting in catastophe. One day mysterious woman appeared, claiming to have travelled far and wide in hope of finding refuge from an impending doom that would curse humanity.

She lied. She was the curse, conjured by the bad, simply a pawn in the hands of a higher power forced to drive apart any Original that lived. There were few Originals that were gifted with a power to grant a soulmate to those who were worthy and while most survived there was some that just weren’t meant to be.

The day of The Reckoning was one of the largest spiritual wars to arise, the Originals who had the power of soul binding were left cursed. Given an awful fate that should they have children, the first born will have their soul bound to another only for it to be teathered some time after meeting. The pain of the break would be too much to bear, either killing one soul and leaving the other to grow sour or killing both. Leaving their souls to wonder the earth in search of each other once again however, never blessed to find them, restless and weary they remain even in death.

Your mother was the first born from our family and your father was bound to her, just as she was to him. The teathering happened just before finding out she was pregnant with you, the loss painful we thought we would lose her. After she found out she was with child she made me promise I would do everything in my power to keep you safe, even if that meant leaving her after she grew cold and bitter.

She was my sister.”

Ringing bounced around your ears, vision blurring unsure of what you’d just heard. How was one meant to react to news like this? It couldn’t be real. So many questions flooded your brain, emotions swirling inside of you like a hurricane waiting to unfold, wanting to destroy everything in your path, no care about the damage it could leave behind.

If this was a dream would you be able to run away? Or would you finally wake up?

There was no room for questions or doubts, your feet carrying you across the threshold to god knows where. Running and running until your lungs began to ache, feet scuffed and bleeding from the harsh terrain, practically begging you to stop.

Trust yourself to run into a wall in the middle of nowhere. Falling over you waited in silence for this nightmare to be over, eyes screwed shut and hands clenching at the dirt beneath your body.

“Are you okay?” A familiar voice asked, concern lacing their voice as the sound of shuffles filled the air. “uh y/n right?” this time their voice was closer almost as if they were next to you. Taking a deep breath in you opened your eyes hoping to see the once four boring white walls of your room but instead seeing those chocolate button saucer eyes that haunted your memories.

“You’re the wall?” You spoke out suprisingly, your mind and mouth clearly not in the same place as you spewed out a load of nonsense about the boy in front of you who clearly was A. Not a wall and B. was very very very close to you, in fact he could probably hear your heart pounding through your chest. Were you sweating? Probably. This was the first time you’d spoken to him outside of a forced setting and here you were embarassing yourself beyond belief that even the freak wouldn’t want to be seen with you.

#with ears to see and eyes to hear series?#eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #stranger things s4 #joe quinn #joseph quinn stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #pbs-thedesecrated #eddie x reader #x reader #gn reader

8 notes · View notes

notnctu · 3 years

Text

push & pull | kim doyoung

❀ slytherin!doyoung x hufflepuff!femreader ❀ genre - SLOW BURN, smut, fluff, a bit of humor (idk not rlly) ❀ details - hogwarts!au, fwb to lovers?, y/n is a player lol, jealous doyoung, mutual pining, doyoung is a lil mean ❀ word count - 9.7k ❀ warnings - explicit language, possessiveness (a concept of marking), dom!doyoung, angry sex?, slight dirty talk, penetration, fingering, praise kink ❀ synopsis - in which a prideful slytherin and an oblivious hufflepuff play a clueless emotion game of tug of war.

❝I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?❞

❝People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you pursue me?❞ ❀ a/n - i changed the plot a little bit as i was writing lol but hopefully it still fits everything! i said this in the teaser, but i want to preface and say that the magic/marking is not canon to harry potter, and that the only thing im using are the sectional houses/subjects. besides that, everything is made up LMAO also pls b lenient with me, i read hogwarts!au but writing it is very out of my comfort zone and am very bad at creating anything magical

READ NEXT PART

Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, mindlessly and imperfectly steals glances your way across the dining tables and under several hundred floating lit candles. He sits huddled with his few posh friends that wear the same green and silver tie situated so tightly underneath their necks. And you, just looking as dazzling as ever, with your yellow and black tie hanging loose and a few buttons undone from your dress shirt.

He hates how easily you catch his attention and his ability to spot your figure in a dense crowd. You barely even look his way in public now, often distracted by a broad Gryffindor that tries to make flirtatious advantages at you. And when he thinks it can’t get any worse, it does… as you’re flashing your bright beautiful smile back at him and the shift in your body language.

“You’re staring again.” Yuta flickers between his friend and the subject of his focus.

Doyoung clears his throat, smooths his tie and physically turns his body away from the horrendous scene. “It’s very hard not to stare when she’s flirting with other men in front of me.”

“Does she do it on purpose?” The silver haired boy raises a questionable eyebrow and Doyoung reacts before he can speak.

He perks up and narrows his eyes at Yuta. “Purpose? Like to make me jealous?” Doyoung scoffs, laughs almost at the ridiculous thought. “The answer is no. We’re not exclusive, we’re nothing.”

“If you two are nothing, then why are you acting like you two are something? Get a grip, it’s practically sickening watching you fume over a ditzy Hufflepuff.” As Yuta prepares to bite into his delicious soft bread roll, it flies out of his grip, down the long table and onto another person’s plate.

Both boys are quick to stand to their feet and face each other chest to chest. Neither one of them is intimidated by the other, but their other friends around them are rather shocked by the sudden discrepancy.

Doyoung forcibly brushes off an imaginary dust off his good friend’s shoulders and draws a perfectly strained fake smile, knowing that others may be watching and he is a Prefect after all. But most importantly, you could be watching. “Call her that again, and your dinner won’t be the only thing that’s thrown across the table.” His threat is loud enough solely for Yuta to hear.

Yuta, with glaring eyes, picks up his dinner tray and walks off with his chin held high and a brisk in his stride. Doyoung clears his throat in the midst of the brief silence and out of habit, fixes his tie back in place. He takes a seat back down and the chatter at the table resumes, but he’s beyond embarrassed and disappointed at his loss of temper that everything drowns out.

Almost everything. He feels a light tap on his shoulder and out of annoyance, he spins around hastily and sharply snarls, “what?” But his eyes land on your fearful wide eyes and the slight cower in your stance, knowing that you caught onto his bad mood. And he’s half in disbelief that you’re approaching him right in the center of the Great Hall, that you’re standing so beautiful a foot away from him.

Instant regret and guilt fills his chest, his sharp eyes soften at your pout and the concerned furrow in between your brows. Nonetheless, he doesn’t have any words to say… he can’t get himself to apologize for his behavior.

“Do you want to walk to Herbology with me?” The quiver in your voice made you seem so small, so desperate for him, that he can hear the reactions of his friends. They’re laughing, at him, at you, at the whole scene that’s unfolding. He feels mocked, being a laughing stock isn’t something he’s very fond of.

His lips form a tight line, and in a snarky tone, “you don’t know your own way, Puff? Mind you ask your own Prefect to guide you.” Fuck. He tried to find the nicest way possible to brush you off, but his friends laugh a bit louder and intensely. And you didn’t like that one bit.

Your lips part slightly in a frown, an eyebrow raised and a hand on your hip. You look as if you’re ready to attack him, to jinx him, to probably pinch at his skin. But he knows you, and you’d do none of the above. Instead, you say the one threat that causes his heart to sink into the pit of his stomach, “don’t talk to me in class.” You’re slipping away from him as you pick up your pace, exiting all the commotion in the Great Hall.

He tries to hide the disappointment that stems from his chest, and his heart beats with an inexplicable dull pain. All he can think about is the twist of your expression and he’s gathering his things rather quickly to follow after you, without even a bid goodbye to his clique.

Without any knowledge of what you two do behind closed doors and the complex history that you two share, one may view your relationship as practically nonexistent; you two are strangers, barely passing acquaintances.

Doyoung does not approach you in the halls, in anywhere that necessarily has many witnesses. You smile at him, maybe even a wave depending on your mood, but no one questions it … as you wave at almost everyone who passes by you.

Classmates might see interaction during the one class you two share, if they pay attention close enough. However, you and Doyoung are much more to each other than passing acquaintances. Although he’s starting to see himself as another name on your list of individuals you sleep with, you are much more to him than you could ever know.

He’ll never forget the first time you two met. He was patrolling the halls for anyone lurking past curfew with his nose dug deep in his heavy book on magical creatures, when you walked right into him and caused the both of you to fall to the granite.

He was beyond ready to dock off points for whoever the rule breaker may be, but you took his breath away when you hovered above him and clasped your palm over his mouth before he can scold anyone. You looked a bit frazzled as your hair was all over the place and he noticed your minimal amount of clothing in the middle of a cold winter night.

He saw the signature Hufflepuff badge on your thin sweater and the sound of your voice completely threw him off his tracks.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper at the stunned Prefect underneath you, whose body feels warm against your own. But your eyes remain frantically on the lookout for anyone else passing, despite the lack of light in the cobblestone hallway. You most definitely do not belong in this wing of the castle and knocking down a Prefect caused more of a problem in your escape route.

Quickly standing up, you lend your hand out for him to take. His long fingers accept your hold as he pulls himself up and dusts the dirt off his robe. His green emblem glows in the dim light and you’re internally screaming at the mess you just made for yourself. But you recognize his features: the sharpness in his eyes, the small curves of the corners of his lips, his neatly parted black hair.

“You’re in some deep---”

“---Kim Doyoung.” The boy freezes at the sound of his name and he blinks at you, curious as to where you know of him. Being a Prefect has its small perks of popularity, but he didn’t expect for it to go this far. “Y/N, we had brooms together.”

As he repeats your name and examines your pretty features, a light bulb goes off in his head. “The clumsy Hufflepuff that fell off her broom in the highest altitude?”

“If that’s how you remember me by.” You smile proudly, and he scoffs at how someone could possibly hold pride in something so silly. “It’s nice to see you around, you’re a Prefect! Wow! That’s incredible.”

“And you’re still as clumsy as you were a year ago. Falling all over the place.”

“Unfortunately, some things don’t change! But you certainly have.” Doyoung looks at you with hooded eyes and a cautious gaze, but you’re so outlandishly bold despite swaying with your hands behind your back. “Please, don’t take that the wrong way. I meant it as a compliment! I used to have a tiny crush on you, baseless, but you helped me catch my broomstick and I’ll never be able to forget that.”

Doyoung, unknowingly, lights up at your shameless confession and takes another good look at you. You're much more mature now, and if he stared into your alluring gaze any longer, he’d be completely mesmerized without the need of a love potion. “So you liked me over a meaningless chivalrous act?”

“I liked you because you were charming and yes, perhaps I am someone who finds attractiveness in men who are chivalrous. There’s nothing wrong with that.” You bat your sweet eyelashes at him so endearingly, and he’s a blushing mess all over the place.

Doyoung has had anonymous love letters passed on from his friends, but they were all Slytherins who yearned greedily to be associated with his status. So knowing that a Hufflepuff, with an innocent youthful approach to love, festered some form of infatuation with him does flatter him quite well. “I’ll let you go.”

You’re about to exhale an exasperated sigh of relief until Doyoung continues, “under one condition.”

“Okay, I’ll do anything.” Your gleaming eyes sparkle like stars paired with the night sky.

He rolls his eyes at you, “don’t be so quick to jump at conditions without hearing them first.” Doyoung groans and you passively brush off his comment.

“If it’s harmless, I’ll do it.”

And in the dead of the night, where only you two stand in the middle of an empty cobblestone hallway, Doyoung requests, “I want to see you again.”

Although that night marked the beginning of your friendship, public interactions were still scarce and this was mainly on the fault of Doyoung. The times you met were late nights past curfew where he was stationed at and he grew to enjoy your wondrous personality. This boy grew up in a Slytherin bubble his whole life, no one outside of his house ever dared approached him … at least, not with the warmest smile as yours.

You were everything he was not, but he liked it so much. You were a half that completed his whole, and there were growing pains he couldn’t confide in anyone else. Surprisingly, you knew his imperfections more than he did himself and yet, you still wanted to be around him to encourage him. Not to mention, you had a sudden growth in other parts of your body and formed into your features very beautifully.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed, as there were more male counterparts who smiled at you, talked about you, fawned over you. And he felt something heighten inside of him along with his existing romantic feelings, and that he began seeing you in a new light.

With you experiencing new things, like hand holding and being showered by love letters on Valentine’s Day, it was wrong of him to fester such envy over the ones who publicly adorned you. He was so blinded by his hot headed rage that he completely missed the fact that you never accepted anyone who confessed, maybe the hand holding, but everyone else was a complete rejection.

All this time, you had been waiting for him and when you two shared your first kiss together, you had an assumption that Doyoung was going to finally confess that he felt the same way. But he never did. You two did, however, further your relationship into something more intimate and taking each other’s virginities opened a whole pathway of possibilities --- none being one where you two end up officially together.

He was the first to sleep with someone else, that was his first of many mistakes that he was going to make in his relationship with you. It also became the drop of the needle for you to start seeing other people as well, to explore what Doyoung couldn’t offer, to rid yourself of the feelings you had for a boy that didn’t seem like he wanted anything more.

Chivalry was dead and Doyoung believed that the innocent youthful Hufflepuff love had disappeared from within you.

As his present day runs after you, you’re abruptly stopped by a Ravenclaw for a small chat. Damn you Hufflepuffs for being friendly and social. So, he rushes past the two of you and into the classroom to await for your arrival. The quick shade of green flashes by your side and you’re fuming incredibly at how Doyoung continues to play you like a harp.

When you slide into your assigned seat next to him, he goes off like a canon. Doyoung starts spewing backhanded excuses and endless shameless rambles about his behavior. “I told you. Don’t talk to me during class or I will jinx you. Won’t be able to talk with your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.”

“You’re not going to jinx me.” With a subtle flick of his wrist, your chair is pulled closer to his. “And if you were to do so, you wouldn’t do something so cynical.” Yelping at the abrupt usage of his magic, you’re irritably pressing your ink into your journal with a newfound annoyance.

“You’re right. I’d turn you into a duck, so at least, you’re still cute to look at.” The mindless scribbles on the paper make no sense in your head, as you’re primarily zoned in on the disrupted energy you have about your Slytherin companion. These ill feelings make you almost sick, wanting to shut out any bad replay of the moments before and forgetting about the attention you seek so much from Doyoung.

“For you to successfully cast a jinx on me, you must make eye contact first.” His finger lifts your chin and you’re eye to eye with his lustful dark stare. Doyoung licks his lips, a shine shimmers from his saliva, and he’s tempted to bring you into his chambers for an intimacy he’s been craving. “My, oh my. You’re looking very charmed today.” A grin curves up and taunts you, and you’re blinking away down at the table.

“Doyoung, we’re in class. Please, focus.” Your desperate whisper turns into a whine once his cold hand slyly smooths over your bare knee.

“Are you free later tonight?” Doyoung peers over at your side profile and your skin feels soft at his fingertips. He’s imagining your intoxicating scent mixing with his sheets, your light playful kisses along his neck, and gripping onto every naked part of you. For a whole minute, he’s forgotten that he’s in class with other no name individuals and a boring professor. He has tunnel vision whenever he’s with you.

“I have an arrangement.” The grip on your knee tightens at your quiet answer. An arrangement.

“The Gryffindor who had leafy greens in between his teeth?” Doyoung treads lightly, because you’re both well aware he’s made harsher insults than that. He retrieves his hand and picks up his pen as if he’s never touched you.

He sees your head shake out of the corner of his eye, you’re rolling your lips together sheepishly. There’s something odd about your stance and he’s growing a bit more curious…. A bit more spiteful at how closed off you are being. There’s something you’re hiding from him. “Then, who?”

“Is there something you’d like to discuss with the class, Mr. Kim? If not, I’d like for everyone to head over to the greenhouse.” As the class slightly snickers and the classroom empties, you and Doyoung are stopped by your professor.

Professor Sprout, wearing her worn out Dragon hide gloves and a thin lined smile, shoves a potted plant into Doyoung’s hands, “behave, you two. Your conversations are never very secret when spoken aloud.” She gives both of you a warning before proceeding out along with the rest of the class.

Doyoung scoffs at the absurd encounter and rolls his eyes. “Ah, you’re getting me in trouble with you now.”

“I’m sorry, Doyoung. It’s better that you don’t know.” You say this every time, when will you realize that keeping your hookups a secret only causes him more agony? He catches your wrist as you both exit the corridors, he barely ever has you alone now. And to say the least, he fucking misses you.

“Spare me some of your time after class.” He’s disgusted by himself, knowing that his eyes are begging for you to say yes. Him, a highly admired Slytherin, has settled for scraps and if anyone knew, they’d never let him live.

Your hand gently clasps over his and when you look up with your starry eyes, something inside him feels at peace. “Did you miss me?” He gulps at your question and blinks at you like a deer in headlights. If said by anyone else, he would not hesitate to snap his fingers into a malicious spell. But you ask the million dollar question so sweetly, there’s no taunt… there’s no mockery in your tone. It’s full of genuine curiosity.

So, he answers you with part of his heart that you know too well. “Unfortunately.” His body falls slightly in defeat, and suddenly the potted plant is alive in his hands. It’s wailing a dangerous and annoying loud cry, completely ruining the moment.

Doyoung quizzically ponders the monstrous green plant and its magical capabilities puzzle him, possibly reminding him to pay more attention to the actual curriculum than on your unbuttoned shirt.

Moreover, your giggle surprisingly calms him in this stressful situation and you lightly pat his hand that’s still gripping your wrist. “I’m all yours after class.”

Taking the wretched plant, you hurry off toward the greenhouse to find someone to diffuse the crying creature. Doyoung laughs in disbelief at your comical animated figure running around with a pot over your head and shouting for any student to help you. So you’re not paying attention in class either?

Doyoung takes you to your favorite place, despite the rule that you’re not allowed access to it. The Prefect Bathroom remains spotlessly clean and fresh paired with an immediate scent of rosewater and wild honeysuckle. The white polished marble gleams prettily under the twinkling diamond chandeliers and you’re twirling enthusiastically in the center of the large undressing area.

He observes and smiles widely to himself at the sight of your happiness and cute giggles. It’s always a risk to have you use their bathroom, but he is always abusing his privilege to seek your enjoyment that he truly doesn’t care about anything else. Your morality has beaten him enough and he’s heard plenty about his wrongdoings, yet here you are… sweetly dancing in the one place that’s absolutely wrong. Perhaps, you two have rubbed off a little too much on one another.

“I can never get sick of this place.” As you plead to Doyoung to cast a bubble bath, you’re already stripping out of your skirt. He shields his eyes to give you some privacy and recites the charm to run hot dazzling water in the ginormous pool. A nice soothing bath is exactly what you two need after a stressful day playing in the dirt.

“This is your favorite place.” says Doyoung with a matter of fact edge to this tone.

“It’s my favorite place because I only get to come here with you.” You jump on his back and he hoists you up by your thighs. His heart skips a happy tune. “I refuse for you to tell me the password, even if you do wish for me to enjoy the simple pleasures of a bubble bath.”

“You and your right and wrongs.” With eager hands, you’re loosening his tie from around his neck. “You stripped so fast that you’re going to get a cold.”

“It’s going to get steamy really soon. Plus, I know you like me best without any clothes on.” Your hot breath tickles the shell of his ear and a blush scatters across Doyoung’s cheek. Button after button, his open shirt exposes his toned build. He sets you on the edge of the elevated step before the bath.

Doyoung smirks at your nakedness and your hot lustful expression. Leaning in until he’s practically breathing against your lips, he stares straight into your eyes. “My Puff knows me best.” And dives into you with all his soul. Fruitful drags of his lips along yours, his long tongue enters your mouth. His large hand carefully caresses your cheek to pull you further into the kiss, noses pressing into skin and with a desire to never part.

His heart swells lovingly, kissing you feels like the best thing in the world. There are no tricks, no spells, no recited charms, but you are more than magical. The same surge of energy runs through his veins, but unlike his impressive ability as a notable wizard, he can’t control it. You make him lose control. As meticulous and cautious as he is, you’re the first thing he doesn’t think through.

Your needy hands push off his dress shirt and he hurriedly unbuckles his belt. When you break the kiss, he automatically pouts and pulls you back in for one more lingering peck. “Are you going to scrub my back for me?” You smile, dragging him closer to the overflowing bathtub.

Large puffs of white bubbles spill from the rims and disappear with your every step. It reminds you of sea foam that washes upon the shore, with a floral fragrant that fills your lungs. “That’s quite an intimate gesture, but yes.”

After removing all his garments, he joins you in the large pool of glossy bubbles and the clouds of steam that rises from the water suffocates him warmly. He sits with his back against the wall and eyes unwavering on your alluring expression.

The bubbles do a great job at covering your breasts, but his sneaky hands snake under the water to grip them. Doyoung grabs a full tit and thumbs over your erect nipple, all while he holds the most sensual gaze with you. Slowly, you naturally end up in his hold and your wet back relaxes against his chest.

The beating of his heart is too loud and surely, you can feel the way it jumps out of his chest. Doyoung attaches his lips on your skin and as you’re melting at his harsh suckling. However, you perk up and snap out of your dazed arousal at the realization of his purposeful licks. “You’re trying to mark me?”

His hand continues to rub and twist your aching nipples. The sensation stimulating the growth of pleasure to sprout below and your mind to wander.

“Possibly.”

A lovers’ mark is the ultimate testament of mutual love. Engraving the skin with your beloved’s Patronus, wherever the giver chooses to mark. Love emblems are meant to be something sacred to the couple, a way to make someone completely untouchable to everyone else. Not only does the symbol glow with an iridescent shine whenever love is felt, it also numbs any romantic feelings for all others besides the partner.

Besides the use of possessiveness, it’s a beautiful way to discover one true love since the engraving of their Patronus shows up on the skin under the conditions that both individuals must be madly in love with one another. And if it doesn’t end up forming, the receiver is left with a bright, sparkling star hue in its place before fading away completely. If it does appear, it fades when both fall out of love.

“Doyoung--” His name falls from your lips as a moan and he’s running down to explore the beauty between your legs. “--can’t do that unless you actually want to commit to me.”

“I am committed to you.” The more your neck cranes off to the side and exposed to him, the more he wishes to etch the symbol of his love for everyone to see. A hand is hooked under your thigh to keep your legs spread open and you’re gasping at the slight pressure from the water.

“Romantically committed to me.” You remind him, but your train of thought is cut fairly short as Doyoung begins rubbing circles on your needy clit.

“You’re afraid of it showing up?” He’s lathering your breasts with bubbles and dragging his long finger along your slit. His greediness overtakes him and with wandering hands, he’s gripping every part of you that they can reach. Doyoung’s guilty pleasure is always going to any form of physical affection from you specifically. When he finally gets ahold of you, it’s hard for him to let go.

Your warm skin is delicate and smooth beneath the very tips of his fingers and every exploration of your terrain makes him feel inexplicable explosions of fondness. Perhaps, you’ve captivated him and although he believed it would take something as extreme as the Amortentia to have him falling for someone, you did it as easily as being yourself. His better half.

So, he’s impressed by your genuineness and how he’s willing to give up parts of his reputation to unapologetically be himself around you. No one else matters, nothing else matters, but why must it be so difficult to tell you that?

“I’m afraid of it not showing up.” You’re more than convinced that Doyoung has confused his strong sense of lust with love and there would be no possible way his Patronus would appear. It’s better to save the embarrassment for the both of you.

Spinning in his arms, the water twirls to the curves of your body and he’s admiring parts that expose above the surface. He’s matched with your beauty before him, resemblance to the stained glass window that situates above the large bathroom.

However, the doubt in your statement finally reaches his ears and he’s grabbing your ass as you settle over his thighs again. His furrowed eyebrows bring together a rather upset expression --- lip pout and all.

“Why wouldn’t it show up?” Doyoung puzzles, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck. Leaning into him, your pruney fingers trace his smooth chin and he notices your quick flicker between his eyes and his lips.

While your gentle kiss reassures him of your subtle endearment, your next words do the opposite. “You tell me.” All you do is push him away with your vague doubtfulness, like you’re constantly testing him and using his poor guessing skills to your own advantage. He can pull you close after any altercation he wants, but you push him away in any emotionally romantic sense.

“You’re rather mischievous and mysterious today,” Doyoung squeezes your ass and smacks it lightly, causing ripples in the water. “I liked it better when you told me everything you felt.”

Suddenly, his fingers poke at your entrance and his other hand drops in between your legs again. Your mouth opens in shock when his long fingers enter slowly and he enjoys the pleasurable contour of your reactions. “Like this, for example.” The pad of his fingers working rapid flicks against your sensitive bud. “How does this feel?” His whisper dances across your shoulder, landing a kiss at the end of his question.

Your moans echo in the lavish bathroom, bouncing off the marble walls and encouraging Doyoung to keep a steady pace. There’s no worry about how loud you may be, Doyoung charms every room before every lustful encounter. This allows you to let go, let free, let him know how he makes you feel.

He curves his fingers into you, pumping and dragging into your tightness until you’re practically screaming. He only has one thought, as his eyes trail down your intoxicated needy figure, how beautiful you are as a moaning mess under his control. Your head is thrown back, eyes are squeezed shut and opening them to see nothing but tiny yellow starlight.

Dainty kisses line your exposed neck line and his ego swells with so much pride. Doyoung has mastered every flick of his wrist to have you under his trance, spewing nonsensical words and forgetting anyone else that exists. He gives your erect nipples harsh licks and with a faint drag of teeth, the sensation pushes you to your end.

Sporadic pleasurable convulsions cause your legs to close around Doyoung’s hands, but the strength of his knee keeps them apart. “Doyoung… I’m going to free fall.”

Leave it up to you to beautifully announce your climax. He snickers, applying more pressure on your clit and a rubbing motion against your walls. “I’ll catch you.”

Moon crescents embed into his skin as you’re holding onto him with your whole life. As your scream hits every octave, the massive collection of bubbles that cover the surface of the bath fly and splatter every corner of the pristine room.

White and wet bubbles drip down from the walls, falling from the diamond chandeliers, and coating every steamy mirror. Doyoung’s eyes light up from the chaos, making sure you’re riding out your high for as long as he can provide.

Your body trembles with euphoria, falling forward into Doyoung’s chest and squeezing around his lazily pumping fingers. For a brief second, your mind is wiped and nothing in the world feels better than being in this perfect moment with the one person who’s Patronus you hoped would etch your skin.

If one possesses feelings that are practically unbearable to contain, one should confess… right? For all your life, you’ve lived by this statement. Friends do not hear the end of it and most surely, one should follow their own advice… right?

So why do you yearn for Doyoung in your gaze as he stands across the Great Hall as if he doesn’t know of your existence? As if he wasn’t kissing you in the Prefect bathroom a few days prior?

It’s not an understatement to say that you catch the attention of almost every person in the room, but the one head that refuses to turn your way… the one who’s looks you wish to steal… is the one person who looks right through you.

Feelings have become a nuisance ever since the first time you confessed to him and it was worse than landing on cobblestone after falling off your broom. The reason why you’ve buried them deeper than any chamber is that you’re positive that the prized Slytherin would rather be with another, preferably one from his own house.

While you try to remain optimistic and playful for the time being, you’re simply replaceable to him. He can barely care to acknowledge you in public when Gryffindors boast about you in their arms like winning a trophy. You’ve kept good relations with every Ravenclaw you’ve slept with. You’ve kindly rejected every romantic gesture another Hufflepuff has offered.

But if there is one thing you’ve learned about him is that he’s lived in his Slytherin circle for as long as he lives. And it will stay that way. You’re his sweet Hufflepuff that he’ll push away at no cost, then pull you back in secrecy.

Now if one feels as if they’re wasting their time, one should leave… right? Wrong. Kim Doyoung has skewed with your morality… and your feelings remain loyal to him since the day he confessed to see you again.

“Lemon-drop, I’ve been looking all over for you.” An arm slings around your shoulders and the notable red and gold tie is the first thing you see. Jung Jaehyun, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, flashes his deep dimples at you. “Walk with me.”

He extends his palm out for you to take and your friends painfully elbow your sides to wake you from your hesitation. Taking his hand, you get up from the dining table and follow him out the Great Hall.

Doyoung sees the scene unfold before him and rolls his eyes at how Jaehyun’s dimples are all it takes to have you wandering off with him. Despite every wicked intent to follow you two, he heads out in the direction of the dormitories to fume in his room.

“It’s such a nice and sunny day today.” Jaehyun runs a hand through his luscious brown locks. You both exit into the front courtyard as other students are scattered on the lawns mingling with one another. When you peer up at the sky, the sun is barely seen past the layers of clouds.

“Jaehyun, is there something you needed to speak with me about?” His laughter roars, full of hefty song and amusement.

“Listen, lemon-drop. I like you and I have a feeling you feel the same way. I want to mark you if you’d let me.” Jaehyun smirks and just as he brings your hand up for a kiss, you gently let go. “Am I coming off too strong? We don’t have to do it today, I just wanted to see if it would show.”

“Jaehyun, you’re going to find an extravagant person one day. A person who is going to know all your favorite castle balconies to swing from and how you like to be kissed on the nose.” His ears grow a bright red and for once, his gaze drops to the ground. “I am, unfortunately, not that person for you so I must kindly reject your confession.”

As you turn on your toes, Jaehyun lightly holds your wrist to stop you. “But, you know all those things about me. Is there anything I can do to prove that we belong together?”

“I know them because I care enough to remember things you tell me, not because I loved you enough to observe these things about you. I give you my word that there is nothing you can do to prove me otherwise.” The corners of his lips dip downward and you’re running to the one person that will erase this sad rejection from your memory.

When you’re scanning the Great Hall for any sign of him, he’s not there and it leads you to his only hiding place. Doyoung loves to shut himself out from the rest of the school whenever he gets the chance. However, a lost Hufflepuff wandering outside the entrance of the Slytherin dormitories is rather an odd sight to see and you haven’t had the chance to form many connections from this house.

The sparse amount of Slytherins you know aren’t going to be passing by, unless with some stroke of luck, someone will be kind enough to open the door for you. Every person passes by you with questionable stares until a silver haired boy blinks at you with wide eyes.

“Who is it that you’re trying to see?” He asks abrasively, but softens his tone when he realizes that you mean no harm.

You bid him a small grin, “your Prefect.”

“And what for?”

“There is an urgent matter that involves him and he’s practically unreachable when he’s hiding away in his private room.” The boy narrows his eyes at you, but beckons you to follow him down to the Slytherin dungeon.

Excitedly, you hurry behind him and whisper over his shoulder, “what’s your name?”

“Nakamoto Yuta. No need to tell me yours, I’ll doubt he’d want me to know.” He spits and then, mutters the enchanted password to reveal the large green common room. “Come this way.” He leads up the boys’ dorms and walks briskly. Although you never mentioned a name, Yuta seems to already know who you’re here to see and it makes you wonder how he must know.

“Open up.” Yuta stops and knocks at the wooden door, Kim Doyoung written in a fancy penmanship on the center. “You have a guest.” He looks your way before rolling his eyes at Doyoung’s irritated tone through the other side.

“Tell them to leave.”

“He wants you to leave.” Yuta repeats, mostly to satisfy Doyoung’s nag.

“That’s fine. Thank you for bring---” The door swings open abruptly and Yuta almost loses his balance. Doyoung frantically turns his head side to side to comprehend what he is seeing. His ears felt deceived, hearing your voice through the door, he had to make sure it wasn’t you.

But you stand before him and Yuta. Here you are approaching him whenever he least expects it. “What are you doing here?”

“I came by to see you. I’ve been here plenty of times.”

“What are you doing bringing her in?” scolds Doyoung and the other boy shrugs carelessly.

“What was I supposed to do? Let her bat puppy eyes at several other Slytherins and have her telling everyone who passes her that she came here to see our Prefect? It was also getting cold out.” Yuta mumbles, but finds great entertainment at seeing how frazzled Doyoung has gotten by your presence.

“It was a bit chilly.” You admit and Doyoung groans, pulling you into his room and shutting the door on Yuta. “Thank you, Yuta.” You whisper through the crack between the door frame.

“It’s too risky for you to be searching for me around other Slytherins.” Doyoung paces the room and you notice his tie is loose and shirt is unbuttoned around his neck. “Why are you here?”

“A Gryffindor blew me off. I thought I’d come and see you with all the free time I can get.” Taking a seat at the end of his neatly made bed, your legs swing adorably and Doyoung almost doesn’t hear you.

“Jaehyun? Does he think he’s too good for you or something? That cocky dimple Gryffindor, with the draw of my wand---” Doyoung whips out his intricately customized Dragon Heartstring, and you’re on your feet to calm his temper down.

“Will you put that thing away? I’m here for you.” Your giggle warms his tight chest and puts out the fueling flame for anyone who dares to hurt you in any way. “It’s not a big deal and it’s not the first time it has happened.”

Doyoung uncomfortably clears his throat and withdraws his wand. Buttoning up his shirt, he fixes his tie back in place. To say the least, your words erupted his festering jealousy and this may have been a small tipping point.

Before you had entered, he was so frustrated with himself and you. You can just walk away with another man without a second thought, in front of him too. He remembered the soft feeling of your body and how he’s not the only one who’s needy hands ran their course over you. That may be the one pain he can never get rid of.

“I never understood why you give other men the time of your day when they just brush you off undeservingly.” He stings and you’re slightly surprised at his sudden attack. When you respond in silence, he continues.“I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?”

Crossing your arms, your weight is barred on your left leg and there is a shift in your overall mood. With an eyebrow raised, you sass him back, “People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you chase after me?”

Doyoung swallows hard and blinks at you speechless. A clammy hand runs through his black strands as he tries to find any possible explanation without confessing his feelings. If he had a plan to confess, it would never be in the middle of an inquisition with you.

“I guess you didn’t think before acting on your desires.” And how he hated how correct that statement is. He doesn’t ever think whenever he’s around you. All his actions are conducted with his emotions and the feelings that overtake him.

Doyoung scoffs, rolling his eyes at your rash comment. “Aren’t you supposed to have the strongest morality among all the houses?”

“Sleeping with multiple men isn’t morally wrong. There’s nothing wrong with it…” The slight hurt from his question is difficult to ignore, but you must remember one thing if you want to protect your heart on your sleeve. This is nothing serious to be bickering over. You two aren’t anything serious, so why feel the need to squabble over nonsense? “... it would only be wrong if someone liked me and wished to commit to me.”

Your eyes meet and Doyoung blinks at you with wide eyes. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he gulps again, completely whiplashed at how the conversation has turned. “And if that’s the case and you like me, would that make you jealous, Doyoung? That’s why you’re trying to poorly attack my character?” He’s never heard such a strong taunt in your tone and he’s baffled by it, slightly aroused, but shocked.

“I don’t like you.” His voice is small and he pouts his lips at you. Doyoung crosses his arms and perhaps, his sad expression reveals a little more than it should have. Your heart softens at his ridiculously cute response, had you expected something much more angry and vindictive.

“Then this conversation is over, right? I’ll be on my way now. I have herbology.”

“We have the same class.” He grumbles, grabbing his robe from his desk chair.

You open the door to make your exit, “but since you don’t want to be seen with a Hufflepuff, I’ll go ahead first.” When you stumble out into the hallway, a recognizable face brightens at your appearance.

“Haechan! Hello, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You’re cheering and Doyoung chews the inside of his cheek. His pride is left at the door and along with all the things that hold him back from you, he doesn’t want to push you away anymore.

“My favorite Hufflepuff, are you just leaving?” Haechan walks up to open his arms, wishing to embrace you in the longest hug. However, Doyoung quickly takes you by your hand and rushes past him.

“She came to walk with me to class. Bye Haechan.” And Haechan is left standing in the middle of the hallway, confused and watching your backs as you’re both briskly walking out the common room.

Doyoung looks back at you, “you think I’m going to let you walk out of my room and have another Slytherin walk you to class? Don’t be so foolish.”

But you are foolish. Your heart beats foolishly and loudly for Kim Doyoung. And may you be foolish enough to wonder if his heart does the same for you.

And it does. Foolishly. Loudly. Lovingly.

You both wonder if this vicious cycle will ever meet its end. Doyoung pushes you away by ignoring your existing relationship, but pulls you back into his embrace as if it never happened. You push him away by running off with other men, but come back to him as if he’s the one person you’re loyal to.

But on this particular night, after mass circulation of rumors reaches the ears of the lovesick Slytherin, Doyoung is pulling you away from your huddled group of friends in the middle of the long corridor hallways. Without any greeting, any spoken words, he’s dragging you to his room right in front of everyone to see. His hand around yours like it was two days prior, but with an expression so grave on his sullen face.

The silence between you two brings no comfort, but you don’t dare say the first words. Doyoung, finally, approached you first in public and it is possibly for a greater reason. Perhaps you’ve done something horribly wrong, and the moment you two step into his room that you’ll hear a mouthful.

However when he closes the door to his room, your hand immediately drops from his embrace and he turns to face you. There is a darkness in his eyes, one that light cannot touch, and his lips are tight in a line.

There is an eerie silence that fills the dark room and the murky windows paint the area an ominous green. Doyoung focuses on your confused, yet adorable expression. “Why did you lie to me?”

The door catches your slight stumble and you’re blinking cluelessly at him. “About what?”

“Jaehyun.” He breathes the name in spite and aggressively loosens his tie. “He didn’t blow you off. You rejected him and he’s telling everyone it's because you’re in love with someone else.”

You scorn at such a ridiculous rumor and for the fact that it’s even made its way around to Doyoung. Another realization hits you. All it took for him to approach you in public is a meaningless rumor.

So in response, you laugh and it mocks him further. “This is not a laughing matter, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, but why are you so upset at that? Fine. I did lie to you, but I never told Jaehyun I was in love with anyone else.”

“Are you in love with someone else?” Doyoung says with balled fists at his side. There is a mixture of anger and sadness running through his veins and he’s so sick of feeling this way.

Your hesitation speaks for you, “It’s better that you don’t know.”

“You say this every time and it does nothing to ease my conscience.” Doyoung throws his hands in the air and stares at you with sharp eyes. “Is that why you were afraid that my emblem wouldn’t show up? Because your heart belongs to another. Yeah, I heard Jaehyun wanted to mark you too.”

Men and their constant want to prove something to themselves with their marks. Everyone has a twisted reality of markings now. There have been many others who have tried to mark you, feeling as if lust would be enough to suffice its appearance. As one's Patronus is special to their own protection, a beloved’s Patronus mark holds the same value.

You’re quite at a loss for words, “I was afraid that it wouldn’t show up, not because of myself, but because of you.”

Doyoung points at himself in disbelief. Him? He loves you more than anyone he’s ever encountered, even if you didn’t know it. “I wouldn’t have almost tried it if I wasn’t sure of myself.”

“You don’t love me, Doyoung. I don’t even know if I can even say you romantically like me.” Those words hurt the both of you and it lingers in the room for longer than you’d like.

“Do you think I fuck you meaninglessly like all those other losers you sleep with?” Doyoung steps forward, pulling you into his chest and admiring everything he’s fallen in love with. A pain spreads across his heart as he thinks of you with another person, of someone else kissing you, of someone else making you happy.

“You really don’t feel it in the way I kiss you?” He asks once more and your own stare drops to his shoulder, a bit ashamed to maintain eye contact with such pained eyes.

“And if I did? How would you explain that? That you are actually in love with me?” Your questions pelt him like rocks. As he pushes you on his bed, you pull him down with his tie.

Doyoung drinks you up like fresh water, a crisp and refreshing love that encourages him to reach heights. His hand cups your face and his feather touches reminds you of his gentleness. Your lips taste like sweet honey, dripping and coating him with a sticky sugar.

He’s happier with you and he’s the happiest kissing you. Perhaps, it’s hard for him to express with words, but he’d always hope his actions speak louder. So, his lips press against yours with a whirl of passion and every good feeling that grows in his chest.

The collar of his shirt is wrinkled in your fist and you’re holding him as if you’re afraid of him letting go. Doyoung runs a hand down your torso and lifts the end of your skirt up. A warm hand pushes your legs apart and a finger presses your clit through your cotton panties.

Your mouth opens into a moan and he takes this opportunity to shove his long tongue inside, lapping with your own. As a wet spot forms on your panties, he pulls them to the side and gathers the slick to gently rub your erect clit. His name is lost and muffled in the kiss, but you tap at his chest.

When he breaks away and halts all movement, he looks down over you with a fire burning in his dark orbs. And a confession falls from his swollen lips, “may I mark you?”

“And if it doesn’t show up?” Though, you’re wishing to the most powerful wizards that it does or else your heart would shatter into a million pieces beyond repair.

He bites his lip and every possible outcome scatters his thoughts. It’s too hard to concentrate, so he doesn’t at all. He focuses on your pretty lips and the way you look at him like he’s the only person that matters. “Then, we’ll deal with the consequences later.”

With your quick nod, Doyoung attaches his lips to your neck and harshly sucks at your skin. For the most part, it’s a pleasurable feeling and sends a shiver down your spine. So, he licks and nibbles until he can barely breathe. Your faint scent of patchouli and ginger intoxicates him, wraps him up in a fuzzy coziness that is unmatched.

Your hands unbutton his shirt and a final gentle bite seals his mark. If the love is reciprocated, the emblem would take a moment to form. Doyoung is rather hopeful and excited, as he’s never seen his Patronus before. “You look beautiful.”

“And you look dazed as if someone charmed you.” You giggle and kiss his red lips.

“You’re quite the powerful one, my Puff.” He smiles against your jaw before proceeding to your mess down below. He gives your aching clit a few licks, which cause your body to twist and turn at the sensitive sensation.

“Please, I haven’t felt you in so long.” Whining and tugging at his hair, Doyoung leaves a lasting kiss and gets up to remove his pants.

“Did you miss me?” Doyoung raises a suggestive eyebrow and cocks his head to the side in mockery, a smirk growing on his face.

You reply with a silly response that only he knows and causes him to chuckle, “unfortunately.” And he’s finding every way not to confess his endearments for you.

His dick stands tall and proud against his abdomen, giving it a few jerks as he watches you strip out of your own clothes. You turn around and sit on your knees, with a slight tilt forward and the arch in your back to accentuate your ass.

Doyoung rolls on the protection as quickly as he can. His hands lightly smack your cheeks and slowly enters your dripping hole. His hands grip your hips as he slides deeper into you, both being moaning messes at the delicious feeling.

“Have you always been this big?” You look back at him and to which he devilishly smiles at you.

“You know just the way to fuel my ego,” when his length is fully buried inside of your tight walls, he wraps an arm around your waist and a hand on your tit. “After all the times you’ve been fucked, your pussy is still as tight as ever.”

Doyoung slams hard into you, showing no mercy and causing you to jolt up. He takes every frustration, every feeling of anger, every ounce of jealousy into his thrusts. “But you take me so well, darling. I’ve never seen someone as pretty as you.”

His compliments cause your heart to soar, despite the soreness you’re beginning to feel in your pussy. He’s relentless, bottoming out until his tip is practically in your guts. “Just like that, baby. You’re the only one who fucks me this good.”

He blushes under the low light and leans forward to kiss the top of your head. “My Puff, you’re so sweet to me.” The loud squelch of your tight pussy gripping his dick fills the hot room, “and so wet.”

You’re shamelessly dripping on his green velvet blanket and Doyoung picks up his speed. Your knees give out as you fall face forward into the mattress, hands in fists from the incredible pleasure of every hit. Your ass now in his full view and every tingle of magic lights up in his veins.

Your throat is raw from screaming and moaning, Doyoung holds your hips steady to thrust into a new angle. Automatically, your body twitches as his tip hits your special spot and he’s well aware that you’re close to releasing.

And with his fast thrusts, he asks you an intimate question that is fueled by envy and rage. “If I fuck you the best, then why do you sleep with other men?”

There are no thoughts in your mind to even give him a white lie, to mask the truth of your actions. He’s fucking you into an oblivion that it’s hard to even focus on anything besides pleasure. The books on his shelf begin to tremble as you’re crying out, “I- I don’t know! Fuck, please… ! I’m tipping over.”

“Answer the question or I will stop.” He’s absolutely cynical and you have every reason to believe his threat. Doyoung lifts your limp body upright, against his torso and an arm secured around your middle as before. His hand snakes to your clit, rubbing feathering circles over the neglected bud.

Nonetheless, his single action paired with his tip grazing harshly against the particular spot causes your legs to tremble. “Do you want me to stop?” His threat rings in your ears when you still left him without an answer.

You’re so close, you’re starting to see white. So, you say what your heart tells you and the truth falls from your lips in a loud confession. “Because I wanted you to love me instead! I fucked them to forget about my love for you… fuck, I’m--”

“I’ve got you. Let go of yourself, baby.” Doyoung slows his hips when your walls squeeze around him sporadically. Every book flies out and hits the opposite wall, clattering the floor with heavy academia. However, he repeats your proclamation endlessly in his mind and his heart surges with the most intense romantic desires.

“I do love you, y/n.” He whispers, cumming into his rubber and simply holding you tightly. He lets go of every prideful arrogance in his body, tossing the lame reputation he always tried to hold onto. He didn’t need that if it meant losing you. Doyoung chuckles to himself for being an obvious cliché, announcing one’s love in the midst of a lustful act. He pulls out and gently tucks you into the covers.

Breathless, you’re finally realizing his confession. “You do? Are you sure?” Any subtle movements has your aching lower half in pain, so you settle with resting on his plush pillows and await for him to join you in bed.

All this time, from beginning to now, you’ve been oblivious to his yearning looks across the Great Hall. The intensity of his kisses had been lost upon you completely as you had convinced yourself that he was incompatibly of loving you back. Even now, as you lay in slight doubt, you’re wondering how you managed to have everything fly over your head.

When he discards his used protection and with a quick flick of his wrist, every book finds its original place on the shelf again, he enters the warm covers. Your arms wrap around his neck and you’re admiring each other’s expressions in the low light. He spots the notable twinkle in your eyes and his thumb lightly rubs your cheek.

“If the symbol of my Patronus doesn’t show, I promise to love you harder until it does.” Doyoung leaves the softest, most loving kiss on your lips. He’s more than thankful for the lack of light as he’s bashfully red all over his cheeks.

“Usually, people just give up.” Your voice is harsh, possibly from the deafening screaming of pleasure prior.

Doyoung shakes his head. He’s made too many mistakes in this relationship with you. Sleeping with another. Ignoring your existence. Being too prideful to be seen with another house. All these incidents have made him feel nothing but ugliness and distraught, and pushed you away further than how much he is able to pull you back.

He loves you. He’s in love with you. He’s fallen for you recklessly as you did off your broom the first encounter. You’re everything he’s never been and never will be, yet you don’t care. You’re by his side, despite his spitefulness and you never miss a beat. That innocent youth approach to love, oh how he wishes it never faded, and though he thought it did, it didn’t. You remain true to your character when he fights with himself internally.

“That would be a mistake and I can’t afford to keep making them.” A glossy sheen over Doyoung’s regretful eyes, but you pull him closer and you refuse to let his eyes wander.

A tired harmless sigh escapes your lips and a dreamy haze overcomes you. Besides the reminder of needing to use the bathroom flashing in your mind, there is nothing else you want to dissect. Feelings are too complex to discuss at the moment and the resolve has already passed.

Regardless of the marks appearing, you’re content with the night and for the rest of your days. Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, loves you back and the power of that alone beats any spell in those dusty old textbooks.

“Why can’t we lay here forever?” Your heavy eyelids fall slowly and your voice grows small.

Doyoung kisses your shoulder, then your neck. “That’s impossible. I can’t give you forever.” He mumbles against your skin, sending vibrations across your throat.

“You are my forever.” Doyoung halts and is left speechless as a white glowing entity catches his eye. And the absolute perfect outline of his Patronus sits underneath your jaw, brightly shining with iridescent brilliance --- he makes out the outline: a White Swan, representing his love for you. Doyoung smiles to himself and hopes for it to never fade. Perhaps, he can give you forever.

some fun critical questions to think about hehe -

why do you think y/n lied to doyoung about jaehyun confessing? why do you think yuta helped y/n enter the Slytherin dormitories? what is the meaning behind the White Swan Patronus? Why do you think y/n continued to like doyoung after all this time?

there are no right or wrong answers, just something fun to have you thinking a little more about the fic haha if you want, you can send me an ask about it :) but overall, no pressure and thank you for reading! please leave me some feedback if you can! happy new year!

4K notes · View notes

inkedtbz · 4 years

Text

do me a favor | juyeon

pairing : juyeon x you

genre : exes to lovers au, fluff, maybe sexual tension? idk

word count : 2.5k

SUMMARY : after breaking up a year ago, you and juyeon still found yourselves in love with each other. too stubborn to get back together, your friends decide to take matters into their own hands.

“(Y/n), come on, please?” Eric pleaded, his head tilted like a wounded puppy. He's been following you around the hall for the past ten minutes, pestering you for yet another favor.

Pretending not to hear, you plugged your earphones one by one as you walked, continuously ignoring his attempts at aegyo, “Sorry, I can't hear you!”

He groaned, rolling his eyes before rushing in long strides to stop you in your path. Eric extends his arms out, blocking your every attempt to move past him. His lips jut into a pout. “Come on, just one favor. One!”

“Just one favor-” You mocked, imitating his tone. “Yeah, I heard that one before.” Grinning, you shoved him playfully, before going your own way.

Eric grumbled as he grabbed his phone out of his pocket. Quickly, he sent a message to their newly made group chat.

ERIC

MISSION FAILED

she just ignored me TT TT

HYUNJAE

are you sure you’re really her best friend?

YOUNGHOON

We have to get them to talk somehow

She keeps whining about him still aND I AM OVER IT

ERIC

YES I AM HER BEST FRIEND

but that’s not important

wHAT WILL WE DO NOW??

“Heads up!” Jacob shouted, passing the ball towards him before Haknyeon could steal.

Juyeon usually hung out on the open basketball court after school with his friends, Hyunjae, Jacob and Haknyeon.

Dribbling the ball between his hands, Juyeon kept his eyes on Hyunjae’s, looking for a way past him. The latter held a solid defense, reaching every now and then to attempt a steal. For a moment, the older’s gaze wavered and it didn’t take long for Juyeon to seize the opportunity. He pivoted, turning by the ball of his foot before running towards the other direction. With no other guards, his way towards the basket was clear. So, he jumped and shot the ball with a flick of his wrist.

The soft whoosh of the ball going through the net echoed throughout the court.

“Break! I need a break.” Haknyeon said in between heavy breaths. He sprawled on the ground with Jacob opting to lay beside him.

Juyeon sat on the bench, a smug smile plastered on his features. “Good game.” He nodded towards Hyunjae. He grabbed a bottle of water and took a swig.

Hyunjae's phone chimed. Making sure to keep the screen facing away from Juyeon, he opened the group chat. After reading the contents, it took all his willpower to resist the urge to facepalm in front of everyone.

ERIC

YES I AM HER BESTFRIEND

but that’s not important

wHAT WILL WE DO NOW??

Drops of water spilled on the ground, catching Hyunjae's attention.

“Shit-” Juyeon cursed, crouching down to pick up the bottle. But his eyes were nowhere near the ground.

Ah, Hyunjae thought. That's why.

You were walking just outside the court, with books held close to your chest.

Juyeon goes still at the sight of you, his grip on the bottle tightening with each second that passes. His gaze held steady until you were out of sight. Only then did he blink, bringing himself back to reality.

“Man, if you wanted her back, staring isn't gonna do the trick.” Haknyeon said, shaking his head.

“You could, you know, actually talk to her?” Jacob suggested, “Maybe she's still hung over you too.”

“I'm not hung over her!” Juyeon denied, his easy smile becoming a frown upon hearing their words. “Besides,” He muttered, “We broke up a year ago. There's no way she's still into me.”

Hyunjae glanced towards his other friends, who had the same thought. Yeah, right.

ERIC

We better think of a new plan quick!!

YOUNGHOON

She just entered the library!!

An idea popped into Hyunjae's head. Slowly, his lips twitched into a grin as he sent a text.

HYUNJAE

Leave it to me

“Juyeon.”

He inclined his head towards the direction of his caller, showing a small smile. A nice, cool shower after a game always puts him in a pleasant mood, even after seeing an ex he may or may not still be into. “Yeah?”

“Would you mind grabbing my notebook from the library? I'd get it myself but my roommate texted me. Says it's urgent.” Hyunjae asked, scratching the back of his nape.

Juyeon closed his gym locker then turned around to face his friend. “But isn't the library closed at this hour?”

“The student part-timer would still be there by this time. He'd let you in.”

“Alright, I'll get it.”

Hyunjae grinned, mostly out of satisfaction. Their plan was in motion, and neither of the two knew a single thing.

After a short walk, Juyeon arrived in the library, a huge hall stacked with different kinds of books. The hall seemed colder when it was closed, the lights were dimmed and the seats usually occupied by busy students were empty. The library wasn't a place he visited often, so he found himself looking around longer than he should.

“Hey, Juyeon. What do you need?” Younghoon asked, cleaning up his work area. He looked ready to leave.

“Ah, I came to pick up what Hyunjae left behind. I was wondering where he might have been.”

“Check the reference section.”

“Thanks.”

He sauntered towards the seemingly endless shelves. Hundreds of wooden ledges holding hefty tomes. Juyeon focused on the label on each section, avoiding the charts and tables that contain information that would make his head spin.

“Circulation, periodicals…” Juyeon read to himself as he passed each sign. It wasn't until he walked by a hundred more shelves that finally, he reached the reference section.

Immediately, he rushed towards the reading area and scanned the tables for any notebook that was left behind.

Instead of a notebook, a familiar, not to mention equally surprised, face greeted him.

“The library's closed. What are you doing here?” You asked, after a few seconds of awkward silence.

Once the shock faded, you wore an expression of indifference, trying to hide the fact that your heart wanted to beat out of your chest.

Juyeon gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing as he searched for words. “I could say the same for you.” He retorted.

“Younghoon is my friend too. He lets me stay after hours to do some research.” You said, your voice sounding harder, as if angry.

“Well, I just came to pick up Hyunjae's notebook. Then I'll be out of your hair.”

Hyunjae's notebook? You thought, your eyebrows furrowing. “How could he leave his notebook? He was never here.”

He must have seen your expression because he seemed confused as well. Slowly, the two of you realize what your friends have done. The weight of each other's presence dawns on you both, and none of you have an idea what to do.

Juyeon takes a step closer, daring to make the first move. “Listen to me…”

“Juyeon, please.” You said, cutting him off. Your voice threatens to shake, but you keep it steady, not wanting to break. “We broke up a year ago. You don't owe me anything. Not an apology, not this conversation.”

“You don't want me here.” He said, his resolve crumbling at your words. “Fine, I'll leave.”

You barely nodded, putting all your attention back on your book. You tried to block out the echoes of his footsteps as he walked away.

No, the truth was you weren't over Juyeon. How could you be? Everyday, you see him around campus. You can't help but miss his smile, his laugh and his warmth whenever he held you in his arms. Every memory you shared was still vivid in your mind, and thinking about them was like rubbing salt on an open wound.

You don't remember why you broke up, not exactly. Perhaps you both weren't ready, maybe you needed space to grow.

But the funny thing is, space did nothing except make you want him more. So much more that it hurts.

Your train of thought gets interrupted by the urgency in Juyeon's voice as he shouted. “Hey, (y/n). You might want to check this out.”

Curious, you hurried towards him. You stopped in your path when you finally saw Juyeon. A cold wave of panic washed over you when you find him fiddling with the knob on the door.

“What's going on?” You asked, slowly taking a step closer.

“The door won't budge.”

“Very funny, Juyeon. Open it.”

“I am!”

You make your way towards the door, shoving him off the knob. You tightly grasp it, twisting it with all your strength. It won't move.

“It's stuck.” You hissed, kicking the door out of frustration. Immediately, you recoil, the pain of the impact taking you aback. “Ow!”

Before you could fall on your ass, Juyeon held his arms out, pulling you close to his chest. “You okay?”

“Fine.” You squeaked, pushing yourself off of him before he could see your reddening cheeks. “How do we get out?”

He took a couple of steps back before taking his phone out. “Hold on, I'll text our friends.”

You simply nodded before leaning on the counter.

JUYEON

I hate all of you

Now get us out of here

YOUNGHOON

No way

ERIC

We're tired of your whining

Both of you

HYUNJAE

No one's getting out until you patch things up

ERIC

You have all night !!! ; )

YOUNGHOON

ERIC NO

I don't wanna clean any messes

HYUNJAE

Gross

Soooo yea

you're stuck there

HAVE FUN

Juyeon groaned before keeping his phone in his pocket. He sat on a chair across from where you were standing. “We have useless friends.” He said, sighing.

“Yeah, I thought as much.”

Again, an awkward silence settled in the room. Both of you had much to say, but neither had the nerve to attempt anything, much less bridge the gap that had formed over the past few months.

“I'm cold.” was all you could say.

Juyeon's expression softened, his dark eyes filling with worry as he remembered how cold you easily get. He shrugged off his jacket and handed it to you, still keeping a careful distance. “Here.”

“Thanks.” You nodded gratefully before taking it from his hand. A familiar, comforting scent washed over you as you placed his coat on your shoulders. Perhaps it wasn't just the jacket, but you felt warmer already.

“Can we talk now?” Juyeon asked, turning his eyes to the floor as he took in a sharp breath, as if preparing himself for rejection.

You nodded, “It's not like we have anything better to do.”

“Right.” He chuckled, combing his fingers through his hair as he finally made eye contact with you. “How have you been?”

Good. But probably better with you. You thought. “Busy.” You replied instead. “I've had a couple of projects here and there, so I've been occupied. How about you?”

“The same.” He nodded, his eyes drilling onto yours, as if reading your thoughts. You wish he couldn't. Otherwise, he'd know how much you were holding yourself back.

His lips formed a soft, sad smile. “You look great, by the way. Our time apart was good to you.”

“Then, it must have been good to you too,” You admitted, shifting your gaze down towards your fingers, which were nervously fidgeting on the hem of your shirt. You could feel the intensity of his stare, even when you weren't looking. “You can move closer if you like.”

“Like this?” He asked, standing up to take a step closer.

You shook your head, noting the amused tone in Juyeon's voice. “Closer.”

He moved a few inches closer, and yet he was still out of arms reach. “This close?”

You lift your chin up, daring to look him in the eye as you uttered the next words. “Come as close as you want.”

Suddenly, everything was a blur. A moment ago, he was across from you, staring with a gaze intense enough to make anyone feel small. Now, he had you pinned on the counter, trapping you in between his arms. Your eyes were like magnets, not one daring to break contact.

You could feel his every breath brush over your face. Yet somehow, you felt he wasn't close enough.

“Can I kiss you?” Juyeon whispered, his gaze flitting over to your lips.

“Please.”

You felt your breath catch as he leans closer. Your eyes flutter shut when you feel his lips press firmly on yours. The sound of your beating heart faded in the background, and all you can think about was how soft his lips were when they moved in sync with yours, and how his arms slowly wrapped themselves around your waist, holding you flush against his body.

As for Juyeon, he could hardly believe that he was talking to you again, let alone kissing you in an empty library. His mind was blank and all he could feel was your fingers pulling on his hair as you claimed his mouth hungrily. He felt weak as you moved against each other, finally realizing how much he wanted this for so damn long, but then again, he had always been weak for you. You could ask for the world and he'd give it to you on a silver platter.

With heaving breaths, you both pull away, opting to press your forehead against each others. You look at him and you see his mussed hair and swollen lips, you could imagine that you looked the same, probably worse. But you didn't care, you just kissed Juyeon, and you were happy about it.

“I've wanted to do that again for so long.” He admitted between breaths, his lips curling into a shy smile.

“Me too,” You whispered, offering a smile of your own.

“What does this mean for us?” He asked, his eyes searching yours for an answer he wants to hear. “I want to make us work. I was so stupid to let you go.”

“So stupid,” You nodded, resisting the urge to smile, “Let's try again, Juyeon.”

He leaned in for a soft peck on your lips, trailing a finger on your cheek as he smiled with eyes only for you.

You don't remember falling asleep. But you do recall cuddling on one of the library's loveseats, sharing whispers and long, slow kisses in the dead of night.

“IT WORKED. OUR PLAN WORKED!”

“Shh. You're in a library, Eric. Shut up.”

Eric's voice made you jump. Your eyes snapped open and you sat straight up, startling Juyeon, who rolled off and fell on the hard floor.

“Ugh- what's going on?” He groaned, nursing his shoulder, which took most of the impact.

You rubbed the sleep away from your eyes and gasped at the sight of your friends grinning stupidly at the two of you.

“Did you have fun last night?” Hyunjae teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

You ignored them and gave Juyeon a peck on the cheek, “I gotta go shower. I have class. I'll see you later.”

He nodded and watched you leave, but not before seeing you flip the finger towards your friends, who responded with laughter.

“So, how was it?” Younghoon asked, his eyes scanning his tangled hair and puffy lips. “I'm guessing you patched things up.”

“I'm not doing any of you a favor ever again.” Juyeon said, before sighing. “But… thanks.”

A huge cheer erupted from his group of friends, and Juyeon tried not to be embarrassed from the sharp glares they received from various sleep-deprived students occupying the library.

But he let his friends have their moment, he owed them after all.

#the boyz juyeon #the boyz x reader #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #juyeon x reader #juyeon scenarios #juyeon imagines #juyeon fluff #tbz fluff #the boyz fluff #tbz angst

501 notes · View notes

alwaysalreadyangry · 3 years

Note

Charlotte, I've wanted to get into poetry for a while but haven't really known where or how to start, mostly because I have this kind of maybe weird tendency to rush through poems like I'm gulping down water. Curious how one actually like, reads and enjoys a poem; would love to hear your thoughts on reading and reception. Also I'm looking for lush, angry, queer, weird poems filled with longing, and would love to hear any suggestions or recs you might have!

ooh this has been really interesting to think about!! have been rolling it around in my brain for a while.

so, first off, a disclaimer: i don’t necessarily think i am a great or even a very good reader of poetry a lot of the time, and that’s fine -- if it’s worth doing it’s worth doing badly, etc. i am easily distracted and i tire out quickly and my magpie brain will focus on like, the language of a poem to the detraction of all else, and unless i’m being paid to write about a book or a poem or something then i don’t think reading in a way that feels wrong or inadequate is a problem on its own. sometimes i just enjoy quickly skimming for the language, and that’s good, that’s fine.

BUT for wanting to read to get more pleasure from poetry: i tend to say to read it like this the first time if that comes naturally to you, as it often does to me. skim, read it through without paying attention to the narrative or syntactical structure, but instead just looking for anything that makes your brain sparkle -- for me it’s going to usually be imagery and/or sound-patterning. see if there’s anything that makes you curious enough to dig in, any lines or sentiments that you like on their own. the surface-level or immediate pleasures with poetry are great and often what makes it worth digging down into the other stuff.

then, if you want to dig into a poem, it’s time to re-read! this time i’d recommend reading with closer attention to the most straightforward level of narrative or meaning: what is the poem most obviously saying? i am not someone who subvocalises, and sometimes my instinctively fast reading speed makes it hard for me to actually do this if the poem is at all playing around with language. in that case, it helps to read out loud, and to only move on from one sentence or stanza (or whatever unit of meaning the poem is using) once i have figured out what it means on a semantic level. depending on the length of the poem, once you’ve figured out as much of it as you can or care to, i’d recommend another quick read through to try and consolidate all of that in your mind.

then -- well, then you’ve kind of got the basics and the stuff that you’re interested in, and it can be fun to look back at the bits you liked in the first place to see what they mean to the rest of the poem, what they mean in terms of what the poem is saying. it could be that a rhyme or a repeated use of assonance emphasises something... you might find that two words are being linked by internal rhyme that don’t seem to have much to say to one another otherwise. is there any meaning there, in that connection? does it change what the poem says? how does the poem and what it does make you feel?

and depending on the poem you then want to just read again looking for anything else significant. is there a part of the poem you dislike? if you reread looking out for that, can you work out what’s going on there and why you dislike that aspect of it?

this will only work with certain types of poem, admittedly. i like a lot of poetry that is more innovative and abstract, where i have no clue what a poem is saying or doing, but i like the language and the feeling of the syntax inside my brain. so i’ll reread those a few times but don’t really have a semantic framework to get into them. it’s more about the language.

and then there’s visual poetry which doesn’t make use of words but of like -- shapes or the relation of shapes to space, and then it’s just about, idk. how i decide to try and “read” those relations and shapes, which i have no real roadmap for. i often just find myself staring at it like i would visual art, or trying to somehow reenact the shapes with my body as i “read” (like when i read a visual poem earlier today that is just a sequence of bells ringing in different directions -- to keep track of it i followed the bell’s movement with my head, tilting it right and then left).

does that make sense? i truly think that we don’t need to understand poetry to enjoy it; that there’s no right way to read or enjoy poetry, and that if we find we’re reading a poem that doesn’t interest us or make us happy, you can just stop. although if a poem makes a reader uncomfortable it can be a good idea to follow this kind of reading pattern to try and work out why! i hope this makes sense -- i’m afraid my answer is essentially just “reread the poems a lot”, but it’s good to go in knowing what to pay attention to each time, even if it’s just “this time i pay attention to what i like” and “this time i pay attention to what i dislike”. my brain needs structure like that because otherwise it is too flighty and sticky and will just roll around one phrase it likes in there for hours.

in terms of poetry recommendations, this is oddly tricky because there’s such an unexpected gulf between UK and US poetry -- i read more UK poetry and while there’s been a big explosion in the amount of interesting & vital queer poetry being published here over the past decade or so, a lot of it is relatively hard to get hold of unless you’re constantly keeping track of all of the new presses publishing pamphlets. so this is going to swing more US-focused but i will see if there’s any UK stuff i can think of too.

so first off, a cheat: i would recommend getting hold of these two big anthologies of trans poetry and having a look through to see if any of the writers grab your attention. hopefully academic libraries will have these or will get them on request? i say, hopefully. there is we want it all: an anthology of radical trans poetics, which came out recently (and i don’t have a copy yet). and then there’s troubling the line: trans and genderqueer poetry and poetics, from 2013. not as politically radical i’m guessing, but still could be worth looking through to see which writers you connect with.

i am drawing a blank on other anthologies right now, but in terms of exploring UK poetry, you can access issues of the zine zarf online here and i recommend it. not all queer but the editor is and there’s a great collection of stuff in there. i also recommend getting hold of their pamphlets as PDFs here, try alison rumfitt and gloria dawson.

second off, these are some poets i think you might like, i will link to some sample poems. mostly contemporary but not all:

dawn lundy martin

CAConrad

jackie wang

robert duncan

jack spicer (PDF)

jay bernard

miriam bird greenberg

sofia samatar

samuel the nagid

vahni capildeo

sophie robinson

frank o’hara

agha shahid ali

i am sure there are many many others i am forgetting but! i hope this is helpful!!!

#answers #poetry

25 notes · View notes

random-mha-thoughts · 4 years

Text

Sketch (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Anon requested: “Hi, I LOVE LOVE LOVE the way you write Bakugou. I always blush when reading one of your stories. Can you write one with Bakugou where they go to his room and they see like a journal of his or artwork of his that has poems or drawings of her? And he walks in and sees her reading/looking at what his work, and he gets embarrassed, but the reader absolutely loves it, and showers him with love? Pretty please with a cherry on top, and thank you!!”

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1,643

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: Anon, you’re so lovely, why would I say no to you? Thank you for requesting this! I had a lot of fun writing it! I have another Baku headcanon request coming tomorrow so look forward to that. I hope you all enjoy reading this, and thank you again for 900 followers~ I really need to think about a 1k special event hhh idk what I’m gonna do, does anyone have suggestions?

"You didn't make it too spicy, did you?" I tease, eyeing the plates Bakugou sets the table with.

My boyfriend smirks at me. "No, I know how much of a baby you are." He sets down a glass jar of orange-red paste at his place setting. "I'll just add my own spice on the side."

"Hey, I can take a little spice, I'm not totally hopeless!" I jut my lip out in a slight pout.

Another few small bowls of side dishes are placed in the middle of the table, one of them being kimchi. "If we're gonna be together for a while, you better get used to it."

The thought of dating Bakugou for a long time down the line warms me up, and I find myself smiling as he fetches the large serving bowl of our main course and sets it down in the middle of the table.

"And dinner is served!" A proud grin stretches across his face when he plops down in his seat. "Let's eat!"

Like the gentleman he is, the blond scoops out the spicy udon soup onto my bowl first before filling his own. The broth isn't too thick, but what slightly scares me is the orange color. I take a spoonful before Bakugou has the chance to poke fun at me being a coward. While the spice dances on my tongue, it mingles with the rich, slightly sweet flavor to provide a happy balance that makes the heat bearable.

"Mm, Bakugou this is amazing-"

I cut myself off when I spot the boy across from me dumping a heaping spoonful of his red paste into the broth, watching in horror as the orange color of the broth turns into an angry scarlet as he mixes the paste in. He glances up at my gawking and chuckles, "Yeah, this is how spicy I like my food, babe."

My eye twitches. "You're a monster."

He just winks in response. "I'm your monster."

I flop back into my seat with a groan. "I can't tell if I'm full or I'm overwhelmed."

Bakugou throws his head back and laughs at my running nose and flushed face. "You can't handle spiciness babe, I'm sorry. Just look at you!" He hands me another napkin.

"Hey, at least I'm not crying." I gladly take it from him and swipe under my nose. But my tongue might be burning for a while. I tried to pace myself on the water so it doesn't look like I'm struggling too much, but I ended up drinking at least 3 cups the entire meal, and this jerk across from me is relishing my pain.

"If you had another bowl, I'm sure you would have," he unsuccessfully chokes back his chuckles.

I'm aware of the swelling in my lips and the thin sheen of sweat on the back of my neck and my hairline. "It's not funny," I pant out a whine. But he might not be wrong. I gulp down the rest of my fourth cup of water and rise from my seat to help clean up.

I clear the dishes from the table and bring them to the sink, where my devilish boyfriend started soaking the dishes and the bowl. I wrap my arms around him from behind and lean my head on his shoulder. "Babe, do you mind if I spend the night? I didn't bring clothes though."

He shuts off the sink and turns around to hug me at the waist properly. "You can take one of my shirts and my shorts if you wanna spend the night." Calloused fingers stroke my cheek before cupping my chin and bringing his lips down to mine. Surprisingly, the few kisses he places there are quick, desperate, before he nips my bottom lip, earning a yelps out of me. He smirks at the sound. "Your lips are so swollen, it's like they're calling me to kiss them."

An intense blush coats my cheeks and I push away from him. "I-I'm going to look for your clothes," I stutter and scurry off to his bedroom.

"Second drawer from the bottom," he cackles after me.

I duck into his room, patting my cheeks to calm myself. I find his drawer and pick out an oversized black tee and red basketball shorts. When the shirt's on, it already goes down to my thigh. I hold the shorts in my hand, debating if I should even wear them, but I err on the side of modesty. Bakugou's already riled up seeing me eat spicy food, I don't want to push it.

"Silly, hormonal boy," I shake my head, slipping the shorts up my legs and tying off one side of the shirt to shorten it.

Somehow, my eyes meet directly with it, the sharp corner peeking out from a slightly lifted corner of his mattress. Being the curious - and slightly nosy - person I am, I pull the object out to find that it's a thin, paper notebook. The cover is void of any labels; I would think it was empty if there wasn't a pen hooked into it, the clip bookmarking a page in the middle. Without another thought, I open up to the page only to stare wide-eyed at it.

Inked onto the unlined page is a half body sketch of me smiling. The crinkles of my eyes, the out of place hairs, the smile lines, the contours of my face and neck; every detail I didn't know someone would recognize just by looking at me is inked before me in loving care. I flip to the previous page to see a full body drawing of me gazing absently out a nearby window, the same attention to detail paid. More flipping showed more candid moments of me drawn onto the page. Weightlessness blooms in my chest as I scan every inch of the notebook.

It dawned on me so suddenly that tears fill my eyes in a whiplash of emotion. Bakugou not only watches me from a distance when he thinks I'm not looking to paint this memory into his mind, but he takes the time to lovingly sketch it out into this notebook every night because he wants to look back on it.

"Babe, you-"

I snap my head towards the doorway, the ash blond frozen there as he glances at the object in my hand. His eyes widen into saucers. "Where did you find that?" His voice goes half an octave higher.

"Katsuki." That's all I can manage in my shaky voice. A million overwhelming thoughts and emotions tumble inside me that I don't know how to start.

"You weren't supposed to see that!" His cheeks turn scarlet as he stumbles towards me, hand outstretched to snatch the book out of my hand.

I shut it and hug it to my chest, protecting it as I examine the boy in front of me. It hasn't been terribly long since Bakugou and I started dating, we just crossed 6 months a few weeks ago. There are still times when I'm unsure of his feelings towards me, an insecure side of me that I can't help. But now that I've seen this silent gesture of his affection, I see our relationship in a new light.

Bakugou groans out. "Shit, I never wanted you to see it-!"

I throw my arms around him to shut him up. "You idiot, I love it. It's not creepy or weird or anything like that. I didn't even know you saw me like this, you big lovable dork."

"Wait wait," he pulls me away by my shoulders, "You're okay with it?"

"Katsuki, you're too sweet," I laugh wholeheartedly and start peppering kisses all over his face. "This is the most flattering thing someone's done for me, why would I hate it?"

His face turns a deeper shade of red. "I dunno... I don't do this for everyone, just you, I didn't know how you would react."

"Well now you know." I let go of him to stare at another page, my chest comfortably full. "Look how much love you put into this, I can't believe you hid this from me."

Bakugou scratches the back of his head. "You...wanna know which one's my favorite?"

My eyes widen as he takes the book out of my hands and flips through, landing on one page near the beginning and shows it to me. "It's rough, but it's one of my favorite memories of you."

I didn't think my heart could swell more than it already has, but it did with this one. My head rests facing up on Bakugou's lap, my eyes closed and a lazy smile gracing my features. One of his large hands rests on my cheek like it's softly caressing the skin.

"Say something at least," my boyfriend grumbles after a few moments of my awed silence.

I decide not to, opting to plant a kiss on his lips instead. "I don't know how you manage to make me look more attractive than I actually am, thank you."

"Dumbass, of course you're actually this attractive."

I lean back against his chest, admiring his line work. It's not the most artistic, but it still manages to bring out the beauty and love in the image. "Maybe you should draw one of us together."

His eyebrows furrow together. "No way, I did this for you, not me."

"But it would make me really happy if you did one of us together. It makes your love look one sided when you know that's not true."

He wraps his arm around me and kisses the top of my head. "Fine, I'll do it for you, babe." His calloused hand reaches up to brush my face. "But just so you know, I'm totally drawing you all flushed over spicy food because I really liked seeing you that way."

"Pervert!"

#Bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugou imagine #bakugou scenario #gender neutral reader #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #request #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

672 notes · View notes

visionsofus · 3 years

Note

Hey, my city has just been put into lockdown :( so I thought I might send a prompt... maybe something about some of the times Vision phases through Wandas wall? Idk but I hope you're well and I love your writing :)

hello! I am so sorry to hear that your city has been put into lockdown! I hope you are staying safe and looking after yourself. I bumped this to the top of my list so I could get you something nice to read quickly. It's mainly about Vision comforting Wanda but I hope it brings you some comfort too!

Mixtape track # 28: Time After Time cover by Theresa Sokyrka, Jesse Brown

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your song/prompt request |

lying in my bed, I hear the clock tick and think of you

synopsis: Three times Vision phased into Wanda's room unannounced and found her in varying states of disarray/ injury. Aka a fluffy comfort fic for those of you who need it.

Warnings: mentions of blood and stitches, illness (flu), mild swearing

Vision was sitting at the kitchen counter, a novel before him when Steve hurried into the kitchen and began rooting through cabinets. Vision placed a finger to mark his page and glanced up in confusion.

“Is there something you need help with, Captain?” He asked, curious at Steve’s haste. The captain jumped visibly, and Vision looked down sheepishly. The team was yet to grow accustomed to his presence in the Compound and he was still learning to be something like human. It was a slow process.

“Vision,” Steve said, a hand pressed to his chest in surprise. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Vision nodded. “What are you looking for?”

“Cold and flu medicine,” Steve replied, turning back to the cabinets and pushing aside two different bags of coffee beans and a pot of sugar. His hand scraped around the back of the shelf to no avail. “I know we had some here somewhere.”

Vision tilted his head curiously. There weren’t many at the compound who could fall ill, Steve and himself included. Tony was away with Rhodey in New York for the weekend, Clint was with his family, and from what Vision knew of Natasha, she didn’t seem the kind of person to accept medicine.

That only left one other person in the enormous building he now called home.

“Is Wanda okay?” Vision asked his voice sound slightly strained, even to his own ears. He hadn’t quite mastered control over tone yet but was getting better at identifying such markers in other’s speech.

“She’s okay,” Steve mulled as he moved things around, moving to another cupboard. Vision heard the concern in his voice. Forgetting his page, he shut his book all thoughts now directed to Wanda. Where could she have contracted an illness? Perhaps it was overworking, of all of them, Wanda pushed herself the hardest. The last few weeks had been particularly rough with training every day, minor missions interstate, and relentless press appearances.

“Aha!” Steve cried in triumph, holding up a packet of cold and flu tablets.

“I can take them to her,” Vision said jumping to his feet and moving swiftly to Steve’s side, a glass in his hand ready to fill with water for Wanda. Steve jerked back a little, evidently, he was still not adjusted to the synthezoid’s super speed.

“Okay,” Steve sounded hesitant as he passed over the thin package. “Don’t smother her, alright? She’s not in a very good mood.”

“I won’t,” Vision said pleased as he filled up the glass with water and headed off down the corridor. As he walked, he quickly had a look at what ‘smothering’ meant – why Steve thought he might cover Wanda’s head with a pillow, Vision couldn’t understand. A little more looking revealed it could also mean overwhelm. Vision shook his head, he would make every effort to not overwhelm her, he just wanted to make sure she was comfortable and provide anything that might make her feel better.

Out of Steve’s sight, he hurried quickly down the corridor that led to Wanda’s bedroom. Once he was close enough to her bedroom he phased effortlessly through the wall, bringing the water and pills with him.

He arrived in her room to find that the lights were out and the curtains drawn despite it being mid-morning.

“Vision?” Wanda exclaimed, or tried to. Her voice cracked and she coughed most of the way through his name.

He hurried to the other side of her bed, concerned to see her covers pulled up to her chin even as sweat made her forehead shine.

“What did I saw about knocking?” Wanda said, her voice hoarse, her eyes struggling to stay open.

“That I should?” Vision said hesitantly.

Wanda murmured something in affirmation, and he felt guilty.

“Sorry, I will next time. I brought you some medicine.” He set the glass of water on her bedside table which was cluttered with tissues, empty glasses and unfinished books.

“Don’t need it, thanks,” Wanda murmured, turning onto her side.

Vision sighed. She looked dreadful, which was saying something as he rarely found her anything but beautiful. Concerned, he slowly reached out to press his hand to her forehead. Wanda shivered, feverish.

“You have a high temperature; the medicine will make you feel better.”

Wanda opened her eyes blearily and huffed in frustration. She heaved herself up to lean against the headboard and held a hand out for the pills. Vision popped two of the night pills into her palm before extending the water glass. She swallowed the medicine and shivered again.

“When did you start feeling bad?” Vision asked, trying to make conversation as he hovered about her room, not yet ready to leave her in such a state.

“Last night, but woke up feeling like the plague this morning,” Wanda mumbled, slipping back down onto the pillow. He moved forward to pull her pillow up so she was more comfortable.

“Okay, well we’ll keep an eye on your fever,” he said nervously more to himself, feeling the need to speak the instructions he had read about online aloud. But Wanda’s eyes were already closed, and it seemed she was relenting to an exhausted slumber.

Vision bit his lip, unsure if he were allowed to stay in her room while she was asleep. Glancing at her bedside table he decided to at least clean up on his way out. With the empty glasses stacked and the tissues in the bin he set about opening up a window a little bit to allow for some circulation. Even if Wanda felt cold, her fever needed to come down. Finally, unable to see a reason to stay Vision went over to adjust her blankets. Seeing that she was peacefully asleep he pressed his palm to her forehead, glad to feel that she felt a little bit less warm. She murmured something sleepily but didn’t wake.

Vision returned to her wall with the glasses in hand and phased through it once more, leaving Wanda to her fever dreams. For the remainder of the day, he kept a keen eye on Wanda, phasing through her wall each hour to take her temperature and replace her water glass. She remained asleep or at least didn’t acknowledge his care, though each time he left her mouth twitched up at the corners.

“Wanda!” Vision’s voice was a singsong as he phased through her bedroom wall, eager for their promised game of chess. He had taken up teaching her the game not long after he had learnt it himself. There was no one at the compound who could play that well but he always had fun with Wanda. Even when Vision knew all the tricks, she still surprised him. In exchange they had been following up each game with a few episodes of the Dick Van Dyke show. It was their Saturday night ritual now, though they had only known each other 6 months. Wanda had only just returned from the mission she had been on with Steve and Nat. Perhaps chess was off the table, but he hoped she would let him keep her company and watch some television. Vision struggled to understand how keenly he had felt her absence in the past week.

He phased through the wall and for a moment his sight was clouded. He emerged into the bedroom that he had slowly been acquainted with. Vision knew the view from her windows, the books on her desk, her guitar in the corner and the pattern of her bedsheets. His eyes checked off each of these features before looking to the bed. His heart dropped sickeningly when he caught sight of the figure laying atop the covers.

Wanda had propped herself against the headboard, her mouth twisted in pain as she nursed a gash that was bleeding all down her left arm.

“Wanda?” Vision whispered. Her eyes opened weakly, and she grimaced a smile.

“Hi.”

Vision was at her side instantly. “Hi? What do you mean hi? Are you okay what happened—”

“Shhh,” Wanda whispered, reaching out to grab his arm and squeeze. “Don’t want the others to know.”

“What do you mean?” Vision asked furiously. “You’re hurt, why didn’t you go the med bay when you got back?”

“Please,” she turned her eyes on him and he registered the pain behind her gaze. “Help me and I’ll answer any questions you want. I tried,” she gestured to the trail of thread she’d been using to stitch herself up with, “but my hands are too shaky.”

He ignored that she was half undressed, more focused on how her blood had soaked through the left side of her top and was dripping onto her bed. Vision spared less than a second before he was speeding away from her side. He trusted Wanda, if she said that she didn’t want the others knowing then he would wait to hear her reasoning. For now, he just wanted to alleviate her pain.

He thanked the gods for his super speed as he dashed down the corridor, down the stairs through two walls and into the empty med bay. He dipped in and out of the internet finding a reputable source for stitching up a wound even as he lectured himself for not understanding such an important procedure sooner. He grabbed more supplies, gauze and bandages, antiseptic and a fresh needle and tweezers. He sped back upstairs and arrived in Wanda’s room just as she was swiping tears away from her eyes.

“Sorry,” she winced, trying to sit up better as he set his supplies on her bedside table.

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Vision said soothingly. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

“You weren’t supposed to see,” Wanda sighed, her eyes closed as he set about propping her arm up with a pillow and a fresh towel to mop up the blood.

“Lucky I entered without announcing myself then,” Vision murmured perching himself next to her tense body. He wasn’t usually squeamish and managed to maintain a distance when it came to gore. But seeing Wanda’s blood trickling down her arm had his heart thumping far too quickly. He took a few calming breaths.

Vision straightened her arm and watched her forehead contort in pain, sweat beading. Silently he took the medical scissors and cut off the thread and the mess Wanda had made of her wound. On closer inspection he was relieved to see it wasn’t too deep and that the blood had stopped flowing. He cleaned and numbed the area.

“It’s not as bad as I thought,” Vision murmured as he helped her sit up taller, so she was at a better angle for the stitches.

“Feels bad enough,” Wanda winced.

He frowned at her pain. “Tell me about your favourite episode of Dick Van Dyke,” Vision prompted as he set about threading the needle. Wisely, Wanda decided to turn her attention to her sweeping windows and the clouds drifting across the amber sky.

“Season 2, episode 20,” Wanda said. “It’s not necessarily my favourite but it’s the episode I’ve seen the most. Rob watches this movie with aliens and monsters, it was scary for me as a kid, but I found it funny how out of control it became—” Wanda broke off with a pained groan as Vision began the first stitch.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Now it doesn’t scare me but it’s still eerie...” she trailed off to prepare for the next stitch. Moments later it was done, and she breathed out slowly as Vision tugged the thread gently, closing the wound.

“— it’s interesting to look back on the episode and –” She thumped her other first on her thigh as the needle dug in once more.

“—and see how far my life has changed since I first watched it – oh fuck that!”

Vision startled, not used to hearing her swear. “Two more and it’ll be done,” Vision replied, conscious that he was leaning over her torso and that there might have been easier ways to sit for stitching up the gash.

“Two more?” Wanda sighed her right shoulder slumping in defeat.

“Almost there, almost there,” he murmured soothingly, starting on the next stitch. Wanda cried out, biting her fist. His heart twinged painfully in sympathy.

“You’re okay,” Vision said, doing his best to be comfortingly. “One more and then it’s done, one more and it’ll be over.”

He continued to murmur small comforts, hoping his voice would distract her from the thin metal dipping in and out of her skin. Despite her pain he had successfully kept the stitches neat and hoped that they’d be suitable enough for healing. At least he had used the thread that dissolved as the wound healed and she could avoid the new pain of having them taken out once more.

As he pushed the needle in for the final stitch Wanda’s head lolled against his neck. He froze in fear.

“I’m okay,” she whispered, “just, keep going.”

Her head remained pressed into the crook of his neck, her breath warming his skin in slow, controlled breaths. Vision did his best to focus on finishing off his work. He completed the final stitch, tied it up and cut the needle free. As he moved his materials to her bedside table and picked up the gauze, he became conscious of Wanda’s shoulders shaking slowly.

“Sorry,” she said quietly, her voice thick with tears.

“It’s alright, Wanda,” Vision said with a comforting smile, though she didn’t raise her head. He raised a hand and gently stroked the back of her head in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “I’ll wrap your arm up and give you something for the pain.”

Wanda sniffled against his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re the only one who can phase through physical walls.”

Vision smiled happily; glad Wanda couldn’t see his reaction.

Vision hovered; his hand raised to knock on Wanda’s bedroom door. He’d been standing there for a few moments debating on whether or not to disturb her when he’d heard the soft noises of Wanda’s cries. Vision knew how she sounded when she was upset. In the year they had been living together there had been a few nights he had spent sitting outside her door, listening to her cry and waiting for her to fall asleep. Often, all she’d allow him to do was bring her food or a cup of tea, insisting she be left to her sorrows. But Vision was struggling to bear it tonight. He worried that she thought herself a burden, that she locked herself up in her room on her bad days as a way to save the rest of the team from her anguish. But Vision hated seeing, or hearing, her pain.

Unable to wait any longer Vision side stepped the door and phased right through the wood. The room was dark, and the air was still, Wanda hadn’t left her bed all day. Quietly, Vision walked slowly to her bedside and crouched beside her curled up form. The covers were pulled up over her head, her arms wrapped around one of her cushions. His throat grew tight with emotion as he gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Wanda?” He whispered. The covers shifted and her head emerged, tear tracks looked as though they had made permanent lines down her face, dark circles hung under her eyes.

She didn’t say anything, just rolled over so that her back was to him.

“Is there anything that you need?” Vision asked removing his hand, hesitant to take her rejection, he’d wait until she explicitly asked him to leave. Wanda didn’t reply, her breath catching in her throat, and she shook her head slowly.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Vision said quietly.

“I don’t want to bother anyone,” Wanda whispered, her voice hoarse from not speaking. Vision raised to stand, hovering next to her bed. He desperately wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her close, to banish all her sadness and protect her from fear.

“You could never be a burden to me, it is a privilege to be a part of your life.” His words sounded raw, even to his own ears and he heard Wanda hiccup emotionally.

It didn’t take much, just her hand emerging from beneath the covers to tug at the hem of his woollen sweater. It was all he needed to know she wanted him to say.

She shifted to make room and Vision settled onto the bed next to her. Almost reluctantly, Wanda slid closer though her face was still hidden. When he was close enough, he pulled a blanket from the floor and wrapped it around her shoulders. She leant in, sniffling tearily. When he held his arms open, she hesitated for a few moments, her body stiff with tension. Finally, she relented, pressing her forehead into his shoulder and allowing him to wrap her in his warm arms. The tears started again, and he rocked them back and forth as she trembled.

“It’s alright,” Vision whispered over and over. He rubbed a hand in circles on her back, holding her close.

They remained that way for a while, Vision let her cry as much as she needed, not feeling the need to ask what was causing her such anguish. She would tell him when she was ready.

“When you’re feeling up for it, we can go for a walk,” Vision said soothingly, “there are wildflowers out by the woods, I even saw some bluebells the other morning. Maybe you can point out some other flowers you recognise to me. I think the birds miss you out there.” He talked slowly about small things, none of them important but gradually her sobs slowed into hiccups.

“Thank you,” Wanda whispered into his shoulders, her hands tangled up in his jumper.

“It’s okay,” Vision said softly, “just because your brain tells you you’re alone, doesn’t mean it’s true. There are so many people who care about you. Whenever you need me, I’ll always be here.”

#WandaVision fanfiction #scarletvision fanfiction #wanda x vision #scarletvision #wandavision #vision x wanda #mcu fanfiction #scarletvision fic #comfort fic #visionsofusfics #fluff and comfort

14 notes · View notes

zenosanalytic · 4 years

Text

Harrow the Ninth: Wordplay and Implication

So I started reading Harrow the Ninth last night(haven’t gotten far; I’m only on page 47), but some interesting stuff cropped up I wanted to yack about. Explaining it requires some Serious Spoilers tho, so don’t read past this point if you haven’t reader further than me and are also avoiding ...spoilers... X|

Ok so: Harrow is obvsl going through some Things. To begin with she seems to be having some manner of psychological break exacerbated by(possible caused by) the Lyctor transformation? A huge part of it is obvsl grief over Gideon -she seems to be avoiding any memory or thought of her and this mental block seems to be impacting her ability to access Gideon’s soul and thus her full Lyctor capabilities- but she’s also overwhelmed by her new senses and her inability to feel physical pain, and a bit unstuck in time? Some of that just might be her grief-driven illness, but so far there’s been some jumping around in the timeline/her memories so it’s possible this is also a side-effect of the Lyctor transformation and existing on both sides of life and death.

Anyway, there’s some nifty wordplay associated with all of this :>

the first one is in an edited memory, and it’s right at the start of it, in the chapter-title for said memory: “Parodos”.

Now most obvsl, that looks&sounds allot like “parody” and, while they aren’t directly related, the connection btwn the two is STILL intriguing: “parody” comes from para(side/beside/parallel) and oide(song), in the sense of a comical/mocking “parallel” to another song; parodos literally means entrance, though specifically it’s the name of a SIDE-entrance in greek theater-design which gave actors access to the stage, or the chorus access to the orchestra, BUT ALSO it was the name of the song(oide) the chorus sung upon first entering the play, coming after the prologue. The connection to an actual side-entrance makes me suspect the “par-” phoneme is from “para”, but I can’t find a constituent breakdown of “parodos” so it’ll have to remain a suspicion :T

Regardless: it is, in the manner of a proper parodos(even IF Harrow, here, is her own Chorus; this is a 3rd person perspective section), seeming to introduce us to the central conflict of the tale; Harrow is censoring Gideon from her mind, altering her perceptions and capacities in response to her grief, struggling with feelings that she is LOSING her mind(associated with, possibly embodied by, her “hallucinations” of The Body[1]), and clinging to this expression of control as a life-raft among all this trauma. At one point The Body even appears in this memory just to tell her it didn’t happen like this which “gave Harrow a curious strength”.

IntriguinglyER(and this is more of a stretch and idk if Muir really intended this implication) parodos is often popularly confused with/assumed to be related to “parados” which is a fortification embankment built to protect the rear of a military position(it’s basically the backside equivalent of parapet. Parapet=forward, parados=behind). What makes this intriguinger to me(aside from the fun of a FALSE pun for a FALSE memory :p), is that the false memory is part of Harrow’s mental DEFENSES, and in it she asks Ortus Nigenad to PROTECT her by keeping the secret that she is “insane” because, since opening the Locked Tomb and seeing the girl trapped there, she’s been experiencing full-spectrum sensory hallucinations of said girl(ie: seeing her, speaking with her, feeling The Body[the girl] touch her, the whole hog, etc etc). I feel like this is MOSTLY symbolic though, and the REAL secret she’s asking him to protect her from is Gideon’s death(and her “consumption” there of; since becoming a Lyctor The Body has had Gideon’s amber-colored eyes). Of course there’s another aspect to this and one of two OTHER potential secrets; Gideon’s body wasn’t recovered from Canaan House, Harrow does not seem to be in “possession” of her soul(though she does have SOME aspects of Lyctor abilities, so perhaps it’s partial or a connection?); so

it’s possible the SECRET Harrow is actl using Ortus to protect is that Gideon isn’t dead, that they healed her after defeating Cytherea and somehow undid the Lyctor process. OR

They’re keeping Gideon’s existence a secret for some reason

Now I think these are a bit out there theorywise because, while I’m not far into the book, I’m fairly certain that it’s only Harrow who is thinking Nigenad was her cavalier at this point. I mean: the Emperor would have spoken to Ianthe, and there’s no reason why she’d keep Gideon’s existence secret(also everytime the Emperor says Ortus Nigenad it’s attached to a description of his mouth moving oddly, so I’m fairly certain he’s actl saying Gideon Nav and her brain’s editing it to Ortus Nigenad to spare her facing Gideon’s death). Also and SUPER tellingly there’s this passage:

The Resurrecting King took on the expression of a man working out a very difficult and emotionally taxing anagram. He said, “Ortus,” again, but the bile was sputtering up into your throat...”

Now that just seems like an INVITATION to see what Ortus Nigenad can be an anagram of, doesn’t it? And, INCREDIBLY OBVIOUSLY it’s a partial anagram:

Ortus Nigenad

Gideon

Of Gideon’s name. Partial, because it doesn’t include “Nav”, and also there are these left-over letters

rtusna

Hmmm... What can THAT be an anagram of?

rtusna

Saturn

Well flog me with a spoon! I have NO IDEA what this, GIDEON SATURN, could POSSIBLY mean in the context of this convo or of the larger story(also: maybe this anagrams to other words? I honestly didn’t try too hard after this very obvs one. AtRSun??? Taurns?? OF COURSE Harrow would play Horde if she played WoW, but I’d imagine she’d’ve been a Forsaken Warlock, or Orc one at the very least :p), but that we have a character’s name being called an anagram by the narration and then that character’s name turns out to BE AN ANAGRAM of the first book’s, now(mysteriously[2]?) absent, protagonist plus the planet Saturn[3], seems an awful coincidence. Of course that doesn’t mean it ISN’T a Coincidence, nor that it means anything in relation to the story even if it IS intentional; it could be meant to throw off theorycrafters, or just as something Muir thought would be fun to do(making Gideon Nav, “the greatest cav the Ninth ever produced”, a near-anagram with Ortus Nigenad, one of it’s worst). Of course, it could also be a hint to Gideon’s origins, or where she/her body is now. For what it’s worth, I seem to recall the big contenders for her origins were Third through Fifth House, and those seem to be the most likely to be the Gas Giants&GG Moons(Third’s the wealth-house, and there’s probably more concentrated resources in Jupiter and Saturn than on any other planet in the solar system. And, for whateverMORE it’s worth, Saturn WAS the Roman god of wealth&the harvest. If Mars’s ...Martial[X| X|]... associations are a firm enough basis for its guess in the order, then why not Planet Fucking Saturn? Of course the trident theme suggests Neptune, but why in the cosmos would THAT be the third colonized planet in the system? Makes no damn sense |:T |:T).

The last thing(two things?) that I wanted to bring up, though it’s not really related to any of the above, is Alecto, the name for the next book. Presumably, this is The Body/The Girl. Alecto means “Implacable/Unceasing Anger”, and it is the name of one of the Erinyes; the Furies; the goddesses and purveyors of Vengeance. The Furies, according to Hesiod, were born from the blood of Ouranos spilled when Kronos castrated him. Interestingly, the way Necromancy works in this universe(as explained in these early pages) is that the Cohort “breaches” a planet, after which point its “thalergy”(life energy; presumably metabolism-produced energy since necros aren’t snacking on ambient heat&light) begins converting to “thanergy”(death energy, tho it’d be more precise to call it the energy generated by the detachment of a soul from a body), which Necros can use to do Necromancy. The microbiology within a planet’s soil can similarly be drained, as can the animals and plants, and the process of “breaching” allows Necros to draw on the thalery/thanergy of all of these. So Necromancy is a metaphor for environmental/planetary destruction&exploitation. Kronos is a harvest-god(his name is obscure, but probably means something like “the cutter” or “the striker”); Ouranos is the sky(probably a raingod with a name related, hilariously, to the verb for “to piss” :p :p), but at the same time still a planetary deity. Coincidentally, the primary antagonists so far in the book are “Resurrection Beasts” which seem to have been created by The Emperor Necrotising the Nine planets of Dominicus, and who have been pursuing him and his Lyctors to destroy them for this/for becoming Lyctors(Lyctordom is legit called “the indelible sin” by the Emperor himself) ever since. Sounds allot like the Furies, doesn’t it?

In this context, the Kronos Ouranos myth can be read as a story of planetary exploitation/injury(caution: I am NOT saying that’s the intended meaning of the myth originally, just that it is a possible application of it as a lens of analysis[it being referenced by the series through Alecto] to this story), and THAT suggests that Alecto, the Fury, may have been associated with this initial Necrotization(The Resurrection/Nine Resurrections, which SEEMS given what little I’ve read so far to be what they call the initial Necrotization of the Nine planets of the Sol System? Though maybe they were already Necrotized&all used up, and the Emperor revitalized them somehow?? I’m not sure yet), may be something instanced to stop it, or may be a “Resurrection Beast” herself; perhaps the initial form they took before 10k years of thwarted rage pushed them to become more monstrous. Alternately, I wonder if Alecto might be a manifestation or servant of Death? There’s a repeated focus on the Emperor having “defeated” Death, and The Body in the Locked Tomb is repeatedly referred to as a foe he defeated once but could not defeat again, so there are good reasons to disregard all the mythological trappings and focus on the clearer, less metatextual possibility.

Of course: it’s probably none of this and I’m just spinning Fantasy wholecloth from between my entirely metaphorical ears :p :p :p

[1]The Body is The Girl in the Locked Tomb which Harrow fell in love with. I’ll get to why this is relevant very soon after this footnote

[2]I mean we watched her force Harrow into Lyctorship by killing herself, so I’m still more convinced this is all trauma response. Her corpse IS MISSING, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t super-dead. Though: Camilla and Palamedes DID have a contingency, and Gideon DID wink at Harrow post-Lyctoring, and it was ambiguous if this was her impaled body or her spirit/hallucination doing the winking, so I can see ppl running with this theorywise...

[3]which is one of the Houses, obvsl(or at least it’s moons), though I’m only really confident on Sixth House(Mercury), Ninth House(Pluto), and 2nd House(Mars) at the moment. Seventh House is PROBABLY Venus, giving all its connections to poison, wasting disease, and Aphrodite(Cytherea is another name of the goddess), but that’s all just thematic suggestion. Oh also, I figured I should throw this in here given the large digression on Kronos and Uoranos, Kronos is Saturn’s Greek equivalent(or at least, the Romans considered him so).

#Tamsyn Muir #Harrow the Ninth #Harrow the Ninth Spoilers #TLT Theories #The Locked Tomb Series #HtN Analysis #Greek Myth #analytic posts #zA's Wildeyed Guessings

64 notes · View notes

echo--flowers--writes · 3 years

Note

hi hi!! i’m here for a matchup!! my name’s clover ( non-binary they / them ) uhh idk if this means anything but i’m an infj pisces also my souls trait is kindness!! but if i had to choose a second trait it would be perseverance :-))

my personality is kinda all over the place if i’m being honest, i’m not a bad person by any means but i’ve done terrible things and i’m still trying to accept that about myself. i enjoy learning about history and science and tbh, my favorite right now is learning about european / asian mythology or astrophysics. it’s just interesting to learn about the things that feel so personally to us yet so far away, it’s magical in a sense. although i’m quite analytical as a person, i tend to use my skills in the wrong places, using it to cause chaos instead of doing things that actually matter. some people see me as intimidating ( which is quite ironic, considering how tiny i am ) but i’m quite sweet once you get to know me, i’m always willing to talk to anyone and love giving advice to others. i’m seem as a motherly figure to many and kinda have the intuition where i know how someone i feeling. also, i’m very flirty and often show affection through touch, like holding someone’s hand or kissing someone’s cheek. i’m very forward with partners ;-)

although, i’m very much introverted, most of my activities are quite...otherwise. for one, i’m a guitarist and lead singer in a punk band + a theatre trained musician so lots of activities i have is working with others. i also love doing makeup and dressing up! i’m basically the punk mashup of marceline and bubblegum, lots of pink but with a sort of punk edge to it. on my off time, i read a lot, most of it being either older authors or non-fiction books about science / philosophy. i also cook a lot, right now i’m obsessed with making pies :-)

in relationships, i mostly want comfort, someone i know who is there for the long run. someone who can make me laugh until i have asthma attack or have deep and philosophical conversations at midnight, pondering how the world truly can be. i want someone who’ll give as much as i do, that’s usually my probably where i do so much for people yet i get nothing in return. i’m quite insecure about my skin, considering i have freckles and patches of eczema everywhere plus i’m chubby so someone who can build me up when i’m feeling down seems really nice.

what i don’t stand in relationships, the biggest one is being mean to people i’m close to or intruding on my personal relationships, especially taking about my brother and best friends. they’re my world and if you’re a dick, i’m dropping you so fast. along with dishonesty and keeping secrets about major things. having space is healthy in relationships but don’t keep secrets from me, it hurts both parties in the end. i think the biggest thing is understanding emotions, because at times i’m prone to manic episodes and breaking down. i need someone there who’ll be there no matter what.

whoever i get paired with, i promise them i shall make them a pot of filipino spaghetti, which has ketchup, hotdogs, and lots and lots of cheese <33

Sorry this took so long, hon! I was stuck between two boys for you but this guy won XD. I match you with...

Our resident sweet boi... Sweets!

First of all, he know exactly how you feel about trying to accept what you've done in the past. Back in the Underground, he and his brother had to do horrible things to survive. But, he lives by this motto: You can't change the past, you can only work toward a brighter future.

He LIVES for the food you make. You give him a pot of that and be prepared for lots of baked goods and grateful thank yous in return

This guy loves taking about all manner of things, and if your passionate about it, he's going to do his research. And Sweets is a Papyrus so your going to be laughing, no matter what.

Sweets is always perceived as scary due to his appearance, so not a lot of people get close, so he's touch-starved as all hell and pretty lonely, even though he hides it well. So the fact that you love physical contact is really good. He'll be there for you no matter what. <3

The other guy I might have matched you with was Red, if your curious!

#undertale #matchups #horrortale papyrus #Sweets

2 notes · View notes

pastellhunny · 4 years

Text

•Under The Red Sky•

Chapter 2. Arrangements

About and hour and a half had past since Alastor handed out the phone books. Charlie called many somewhat suitable places to host a dance but everyone she called declined and mocked her over the phone. At some point Alastors nerves were tested by this disrespect. He found it annoying that no one gave her a chance but then again he didn't really believe her either. All he was there for was a good time, something to soothe his boredom and maybe something extra only if it turns out demons can be rehabilitated. Alastor was snapped out of his thoughts when Husk piped up over at the bar.

"Ugh why are we even doing this no one cares about a stupid dance unless theirs drugs, alcohol or money involved." Husk grumbled.

Just then Nifty jumped up from where she was sitting and smacked Husk lightly. "STOP It! that's not the spirit besides i know someone we can call."

Charlie's attention was definitely grabbed by this, "Who is it?"

"Well she's a friend of Alastors they're quite close so i think she'll be able to hook us up huh Ally!" Nifty rejoiced as she jumped up and down and zoomed around Alastor.

Als smile stretch as he tried to hold back laughter. "Pffft... HAHAHAhah that's a good one you little devil you, there's no way in hell-

"Uhhuh, uhuh, uhhh oh okay so in three days you'll have a place for us? Great! Alastor sends his regards. Thank you!" Charlie ended the call as quickly as Nifty cut Alastor off. "So in three days she'll have a room open for us to host the dance."

"Wha-but wait how- did you- well that's perplexing." Alastor thought to himself, Rosie would never let the princess anywhere near her business. Why in the world would she ever say yes?

"I can't believe you knew someone and you didn't tell me?" Charlie asked as she crossed her arms and he expression turned sad for a moment.

A radio crack came through not before Al shook his head, "No no my dear Rosie can be tough to negotiate with she's not one to accept an offer from such a.. um well undesirable place such as this hotel."

Charlie openeded her mouth to say something but Angel got to it first, "So this means we're gonna need beverages right? WELL i'm off to get alcohol byeee!!!" Angel blurted out as he got up and sped out the door.

"HEY ANGEL NO ALCOHOL YOu idiot!!" Vaggie sighed as she muttered that she'll get him and with that she ran out the door after Angel.

"Ugh" Charlie grumbled as she pinched the space between her eyes just above her nose. "Okay well i guess i'll find a way to get the snacks an-"

"Oh no no no dear that won't be necessary, i'm sure i can find a way to get us something up to Rosies taste." Al said as he pondered how he could get something for the party without needlessly paying for it.

"Wait are you sure i can help you out i am the one hosting the party." Charlie offered with a smug smile.

"Ah i think you mean co hosting i am your business partner after all. No but it won't be needed my darling you can go off and tend to other needs while i take care of it." Al noticed her face soften it made a little radio static crackle through as his smile widened. "Anyways i'll see what i can do my dear." He said as he spun to the door.

Charlie smiled fondly as she watched him exit the hotel. It was confusing why he wanted to help but she deeply appreciated the little things he did just for the hotel and supposedly for his entertainment. She shook her head, "I might as well pick something out to wear."

Vaggie went running down the sidewalk after Angel, "Hey shitlord stop for a goddamn second!"

"Oh so you did follow me then huh?" Angel said as he turned around and stopped with a big smile on his face.

"Yeah ofcourse i- wait did you run out just to get me to follow you?" Vaggie asked out of breath as she caught up to him.

"Well yes and no i did wanna go and gets some booze ya know for ma own purposes but i wanted to talk to you about something." Angel continued as they walked down the street towards the liquor store.

"And what's that." Vaggie said while crossing her arms thinking he was about to make a sex joke or something.

"What do you think similes' game is at the hotel?" He asked with a genuine face of somewhat concern.

Vaggie was surprised by this her eyes widened, she didn't think anyone was suspicious of him other than her. "Honestly i don't know, it could be anything. To tarnash the hotel, to make fun of us, or maybe something even worse."

"What could he do if this whole uh rehabilitation thing were true- well um i mean since it is true." Angel stuttered watching what he said to not upset Vaggie.

Vaggie furrowed her brow in annoyance, "An overlord is hard to read especially the radio demon himself is a whole other story. I know for one thing there's no way he could just be here because he's bored." She said as she bent her fingers into air quotes.

"Idk this place gives me a laugh sometimes! HA" Angel laughed as Vaggie punched him hard in the arm.

Back at the hotel Charlie was deciding what she was gonna wear and what the theme should be. Obviously she decided for it to be Classy since Rosie is an overlord and they tend to have pretty high standards. A tux might be too casual for her since she wears one everyday pretty much, a dress would probably empress and give her a little bit more respect if she can turn heads for a good reason.

Charlie reached into the back of her closet for the dress she wore for her family portrait about a 100 or so years ago. Upon pulling it out a little bit of dust smoked off of it so she patted it down all while coughing. "This should do!" Charlie said with a smile as she went to go change into it.

Once Alastor was out the door he used his shadow ability to pretty much teleport himself directly to Rosies emporium recently was Franklin and Rosie but shamefully the cleansing took Franklin with many other sinful demons. Rosies business is more of like a fashion business her entire building is like one big store with the exception of a ware house with a run way to promote her new designs and outfits she has to sell. Rosie was a type of demon that loves luxury. Her soothing voice with a devilish white sharp smile and sense of fashion says it all.

Alastor teleported to Rosies room within the building. Rosie seemed to have expected him as she was sitting in a velvet chair in the corner of the room with a large smile present on her face. The lights were off which made the void that was her eyes seem even more absent.

"So my dear Rosie why did you accept the damsels cry?" Alastor asked as he spun his radio staff and tapped it on the ground. "Not up to anything devious now are we?" He said truly curious as to why she'd let anyone she didn't know near her business.

"What me oh no no that couldn't ever be me, i just want the publicity. Business honey that's all i need from this." Rosie laughed as she stood and gazed out her window towards the hotel across town. "I mean i have a front row seat, isn't that what you're doing there sugar." Rosie questioned with a smug face.

A crackle sifted through the air as Alastor spoke, "Perhaps my dear but this endeavor has turned out to be quite fun on the contrary, why i've never had this many laughs just watching the sad sap of a hotel crumble." An audio track laugh played behind his voice as he spoke but speaking badly upon charlie's hotel for someone reason made him feel uncomfortable.

Rosie chuckled, "No no i mean what do you really want, i know you Alastor and you never do anything without a reason or" she paused, "for mere boredom Ha." She turned from the window to face him, her shadow casting on his face as she stepped closer to him. "I know you already have a devilish plan brewing inside that head of yours."

Alastor stared at her with his wide smile, "Well if you so much desire to know i suppose i'll tell you."

Rosie leaned forward eager to hear what he was going to dish out.

"Only after the party just to make sure you'll stick to your word Rosie dear." Alastor mused as his crooked smile grew. Rosie laughed in response to this.

"You always were one to see a deal through. Oh and did that princess make a deal with you yet?" Rosie asked as Alastor went to turn around.

"No i'm afraid she's a lot smarter than i thought she's impressed me what can i say Rosie." Al smiled at the thought of how happy Charlie will be to host the party. A charming demon belle she is. "Anyways i best be on my way now i promised Charlie that i'd find a way to get her food for the party and-"

"Oh don't worry sugar i'll have it catered just for you and it'll be up to my taste." Rosie said with a little smirk upon her face as she laughed at the idea of non expensive foods being at the dance. "Consider this as you owe me one, fair enough Ally?"

Alastor furrowed his brow in annoyance he hated her little nickname she gave him Al was far better in his opinion. "Hmm lets make it a deal then." Al said as he leaned forward and extended his arm out to Rosie the green glow illuminating the room and wind seemingly gushing from its illumination. "And don't call me Ally, please." he said with a wide grin.

Rosie smiled softly as she took his hand and gently shook it. The green glow disappeared upon the shake a spark of green electricity swirled and then dissipated into thin air. "Pleasure doing business with you."

"The pleasures mine now if you'll excuse me the misses are expecting me." Al joked but Rosie didn't laugh she just smiled a knowing smile as he teleported back to the hotels front door.

"Hmm he seems a bit off" Rosie thought as she watched him disappear.

Alastor returned back to the hotel in what seemed like minutes though he didn't turn up with anything which may be a surprise to Charlie. But thanks to his shadow he can pretty much cross all the corners of hell in a mere minute at his fastest. This is probably what made him such a good hunter, stealthy and fast just like when he was still among the living he was very cunning. Al rembered his living life for a moment before the thought of the princess creeped into his head. He shook his old memories away and went on his way looking for Charlie.

"Charlie? Oh charlie?!" Al shouted as he crossed the main area of the hotel. "Hmm where has she gone to?" He thought to himself as he made his way up the stairs.

At the hotel everyone has their own room even Alastor has a room. Charlie set it up since she considered him a patron since he did approach her first after all and she found him quite enjoyable to have around. However Al hasn't slept over night in that room once, he has his own place across town so he doesn't see the need. But still the thought is what mattered the most to him, a symbol of their friendship so far and her trust to let an overlord like him sleep over in the same building as her. It made him laugh how naive she was but how nice she was.. she gives anyone a chance. Al smiled fondly at this thought and stopped in his tracks, a little crackle bliped through him. A sigh escaped him as he used his shadow to teleport to the top floor, better to not exhaust any energy.

Charlie's room which was at the top of the hotel, had a balcony and the best view of hell from what he's seen from the outside of the hotel. Al creeped up to the door, it was slightly open, he was about ready to knock but something caught his eye. He peered through the small crack to see golden locks held together by barb wire and a flowy skirt flowed beneath the hair. Al was dead silent as he watched her turn to face the mirror in front of her, giving him a better view of what she looked like from the front. Her skirt had overall straps over her shoulders and begin just below her chest. She wore a white and decorative long sleeve blouse underneath the black skirt. Her legs being the most noticeable, peered out from under the skirt at about knee length. Al was mesmerized by this show of beauty, he had no idea the princess could look so elegant.

Alastors arm was suspended in time hovering just beside the door ready to knock but something kept him from doing so. As he watched the princess more he grew more and more entranced by her flowy movements as she spun and danced in front of the mirror. She looked so happy. Just then radio blips and cracks disrupted the silence the static was somewhat musical and loud. The interferance he can't really control he never understood them but simply they're just attached to his feelings. Something Al could never come to realize or understand on his own.

Charlie(POV) stood in front of her mirror happy with how her old outfit looked. She gave herself a little spin just to see her skirt frilly up and then fall back down. She was even impressed with herself and how she did on her hair, she perfectly recreated the look she made for her old family portrait. Suddenly chills ran up Charlie's spine as loud radio cracks and static came from the door to her room.

"Shit, shit, shit turn off dammit!" Al whispered to himself and fumbled with his staff trying to make the noise shut off. The static lessened and quieted down a little bit the princess already heard him for sure. Al sighed away all his embarrassment still bearing a smile as he knocked on the door. "Charlie, it's me you're business partner! I'm back from my trip my dear!"

There was a pause before the door opened slowly and out peered Charlie's head around the corner. He face covered in a blush and it wasn't just her naturally pink cheeks giving off that affect. "Um how long were you standing there?" She asked as she averted her eyes from him.

"I-" Al stood with his eyes wide open, normally invading privacy was one of his strong suits but for some reason he felt bad for watching her without Charlie knowing. So he did the only thing he could think of. He lied pretty much. "Oh no don't worry darling i just got here." He reassured her.

Her face cleared as she let out a relaxed sigh and opened the door fully to reveal her whole outfit up close. Alastor stared at her for what seemed like an eternity before she got nervous again and looked away.

Charlie brushed a little strand of blond hair out of her face as she spoke. "So um, Al you know Rosie the best is this something that might impress."

Al stood still, still in a daze before slowly opening his mouth to deliver what he had to say. "Oh no it won't impress Rosie hardly any, she's one of the top fashion demons out there, I mean the stuff she wears is top notch!"

To this the lights in charlie's eyes dimmed as her smile turned into a frown. A crackle of static was heard, with something different happening this time it.. hurt? It pained him to see her frown.

"Uh no my dear i.. No i-i didn't mean it like that i-" Al stuttered, he didn't know what to say he humbled his words trying to say something to make her frown go away.

Charlie looked up and met his gaze not before turning away and putting her hand on the door. "No it's okay Al i don't expect to impress such a high and mighty demon anyway. It was worth a shot i guess."

The door slowly moved to shut but Al stuck his foot in between the door and the wall stopping it from closing. "Wait Charlie."

Charlie's head lifted quickly to see Al with what looked like a look of concern told only by his eye brows since all he ever did was smile but even that too looked stressed.

"If i must add.. I think you look wonderful and absolutely stinky. For what it's worth you've impressed me my dear and besides you're never fully dressed without a smile." Al spoke softly as the words left his mouth. Charlie was shocked by the sound of his voice, no radio filtered over it, it was clear and smoothe. She looked up at him and slowly her smile grew before she decided to make a daring move. She held out her hand like she was pressing it up against a flat wall.

Al looked at her perplexed before she took his hand and placed it flat against hers and then wrapped her thumb around his hand and his around her hand. "I know you don't liked to be touched so i'll give you a hug this way."

Alastor was at a complete loss for words, his hand touching hers gave him a sick feeling to his stomach like his guts were about to crawl out of his skin. Her hand was so soft and smooth he almost didn't wanna let go, it was warm to the touch and comforting to say the least. His normal radio static was gone and instead a song from the thirty's filtered in and began to play. Al noticed right away and reluctantly swooped his hand away from hers consequently stopping the music with a what sounded like a record scratch.

Charlie noticed his sudden movement and gave him a free exit ticket fearing she over stepped. "Oh i'm so sorry, i um guess you should probably inform the others to dress classy for this event." She said with a soft yet nervous smile.

Al gratefully took this offer and waved her goodbye before exiting her room and pretty much instantly teleporting to his room at the hotel. The moment he got inside he sat on the velvet red bed, the room came with, with a flop. "What in the world just happened?" Al asked to himself outloud.

His little radio staff responded back to him only with the same song that Al cut off earlier. The thirties love song type of music.

"Oh please i don't need a dance party at the moment. I don't understand did she use some sort of demonic power on me back there or what?!" Al debated deeply, no way as far as he can tell he's much stronger than that charming demoness he'd be able to sense it.

His staff rolloed its single eye, "You know for and overlord you're quite oblivious! Hah" A laugh track crackled through, it's gonna take a lot for Al to figure it out.

⎯

part 1 part 3

#chalastor #charlastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel

82 notes · View notes

eddiekasprzak · 4 years

Note

how do u see book richie in the 27 year period between Everything? i remember u vaguely talking abt this once and im curious!!!

Yeah, I’ve talked about it before and ty for this ask because now I get to put a summary of my thoughts in one place!

First let’s cover what’s 100% canon wrt Richie and the 27 year gap: Left-Winger Richie Tozier.

Here in this private restaurant dining room Bill felt its presence so fully that it was almost personified—but not as an old man in a white robe with a scythe on his shoulder. It was the white spot on the map which lay between 1958 and 1985, an area an explorer might have called the Great Don’t Know. Bill wondered what exactly was there. [...] Richie Tozier carrying a sign which said STOP THE WAR on one side and GET ROTC OFF CAMPUS on the other?

and

“We had talked a lot about kids, and had pretty well decided we didn’t want them even if we decided to legalize the relationship. Irresponsible to bring kids into such a shitty, dangerous, overpopulated world . . . and blah-blah-blah, babble-babble-babble, let’s go out and put a bomb in the men’s room of the Bank of America and then come on back to the crashpad and smoke some dope and talk about the difference between Maoism and Trotskyism, if you see what I mean.“

Richie Tozier was a canon hippie!!! He and his gf Sandy were hippies!!!

Anyway, onto my headcanons:

Richie went to college in California? And he attended anti-war protests? He went to UC Berkeley. There is no fucking way Stephen King didn’t have Berkeley in mind when he wrote about Richard Middlename Tozier’s college life.

(I googled “anti-rotc berkeley” and found a fucking news clip as the first result lmfao I KNOW YOU WERE THINKING OF BERKELEY STEPHEN I KNOW IT!!!)

He’s also v. pointedly left-wing during his time as a college radio DJ

His break-up with Sandy is messy as hell but once both have cooled off there’s a lot of residual fondness. Like, “you’re really not the one for me but we had some good times together, so w/e”

also i lowkey want fic where he calls her up again post-canon to say he has a boyfriend now and she’s like AHA I KNEW IT

Speaking of boyfriends, I actually think Richie would know he isn’t straight even if he isn’t out to the outside world? I’ve also talked about how the language Richie used makes me think he’s hooked up with men before i mean I am sorry to go on about it but going gaily in bareback? Hello???

Richie would def trivialise his attraction to men as like, purely physical though. A throwback to his past as a pinko free love hippie. It’s nothing serious or anything I mean it’s not like he could fall in love with a man or anything right? (wrong. extremely wrong.)

He also has....a type. That type is Guys That Remind Him Of Eddie. Y’know. T*****.

He definitely rocked the nastiest pornstache for pretty much the entirety of the 70s.

idk i’m running out of ideas rn but I know i’ll come up with more later.

also read this fic because it has brief Reddie-during-the-27-years and author’s understanding of Richie is so chef’s kiss it’s INSANE

stan socialist richie tozier

#richie tozier #reddie #Anonymous

88 notes · View notes

brandjchilds · 3 years

Text

2020 👉🏾 2021

I spent the last two weeks doing some introspection and writing about my 2020 experience (I paid Justin Timberlake to say that.)

From the jump, I felt like the 2020 tagline “a year of clarity” was so corny, but I bet you’re a little more clear on some important things after this year. I had no choice but to be.

Loss figured out how to affect everyone this year, in abstract ways, and in very visceral, tangible, sobering ways.

Pain was available to all who were alive long enough to experience more than a month of 2020.

Most of us would say 2020 gave us that work.

Let’s not get it twisted though, 2019 wasn’t nothing to write home about, but this year made me feel like I wish I could go back to sleep to finish that dream.

The very nature of having to stay home, being stripped of so many distractions that created false senses of comfort and security showed me that there’s a lot of character that has been built up in me, and that there’s still a lot of building to do.

I was more in my head this year than any other year that I can remember. Which coincided pretty spectacularly with the uptick in my dating activity this year. Somehow, I was both more bold, and more in my own head.

I talked to some girls AND got dates with some girls that a previous version of me would’ve thought I had no business being looked at by. Truly intimidatingly attractive, extraordinarily brilliant and kindhearted women that pre-2020 me wouldn’t have even headfaked at (yeah, I’m patting myself on the back for that).

Something I noticed about one of the lovely young women that I talked to early this year is that she had this sense that she had grown to the place where she was putting the majority of the weight of her trust in God and leaving it there. Trusting the provider and not the provisions. And that seemed to cause this overwhelmingly serene self security to radiate out of her. I’m still figuring that out, for sure.

This was also another year where I struggled with hiding many of the most passionate parts of myself in public spaces, in an effort to move closer to appropriate transparency and away from codependent vulnerability. In some ways, I think this worked well to keep myself from getting hurt as much, along with creating healthier connections with people (the goal), but there’s still some attenuation to be done, because in some instances, I definitely over corrected and felt myself becoming less interesting, and less available for any kind of connection at all.

In my closest relationships, I felt myself leveling up my inquisitive nature, showing my love in bigger ways to the people I’ve stated my love for, and intentionally finding more ways to show up for my people.

In addition, I’ve had more “in-game” experience with the difference between hurt versus harm as it relates to boundaries and communication in relationships. Learning to love myself well by taking up space in that way.

I learned that I can actually tolerate conflict that feels even remotely productive.

Oh! Also, I’ve discovered something pretty major about myself: The greatest gift someone could give me is an environment of peace, joy and conversational fluidity. That’s all I want ever in all of life.

I was met with more of the realities of “both-and”, as opposed to objective extremism one way or another.

The relativity of words and time became that much more apparent to me. I was telling my sister that there were so many dope things I experienced in January and February of 2020 that somehow felt closer to the present than, say, George Floyd, or my first official relationship, Tiger King or my therapy breakthroughs. Speaking of...

Some breakthroughs in therapy and meditation have allowed me to put more space between external stimuli and the choice of my response. (And the role of distraction in this whole continuum, which is the enemy of mindfulness - part of why I’m taking this social media break.)

Closely related to the above thought, I heard this quote that said something like, “if you think of every thought as a package, the packages might come to your door, but if the package isn’t for you, don’t sign for it!” I’ve also chosen to apply this to thoughts that illicit even the strongest emotional responses. Very subversive, I know.

This time last year, I was with my family in Atlanta, talking about the things I wanted to achieve, character wise, in 2020, and now looking back at that list, I realize I can’t really check anything off. But I also realize that that was never the point. My sights were set on the wrong thing. The point of the journey is to keep becoming. Pay attention to how what you’re doing now is facilitating or detracting from what you hope to be. And then, if you find you’re on track, make peace with the process. This is one of many spiritual practices I want to reconnect with in 2021.

In addition to that, I’ve dropped the expectation for anyone, including myself, to fully be anything, really. However, I do need the people in my closest circle/prime seats of influence to be at least growing in their awareness as active participants in who they’re becoming. How they might be able to continue functionally evolving. Consistently considering what the desired outcome of their life might be.

Something else that learnt me: It is possible to apologize too much, and it is probable that I have lol. The reason, so I have discovered, is that it can cause you to behave apologetically for who you are, which has been quite the lifelong problem for your boy 😁.

By the way, I still have doubts in my faith (I guess that’s inherent in the word “faith”, right?), but they’re not (currently) overwhelming questions about God’s goodness or about why so many religious people have been allowed to make it their business to commandeer and distort the foundational ethic of love. Admittedly, the questions I have are much simpler, but I believe they’re valid, and worth inquisition.

I found a way to finish 3 pilots this past year, despite going through the biggest heartbreak of my life, seismic family turmoil and the existential stress of this pandemic. Idk how “good” those scripts are, but that’s really not the point. Shooters shoot and writers write.

I was recently reminded that, while living a creative life comes inherently with a level of fear, I don’t have to allow that fear to ever be the reason I don’t do or try things.

I pushed through my ADD, and reclaimed the discipline of sitting down and reading physical books.

I also listened to a bunch of audiobooks and even more podcasts. Favorite genres are pop-psychology/human behavior, dating, and of course, basketball.

I got help from some friends moving into a newly renovated, beautiful house in Glendale. No lie, I was a little shook to be in Simi Valley after Trump lost, and thankfully, we ended up moving like a week before the results came in (the first time).

I’ve been blessed to be bolstered by a new accountability group of Black men that are always available for support, and fully bought in on my progression in life, sometimes even more than I am.

I also witnessed just how truly down for me my circle of people are, on the heels of... some really tough stuff. So many people made it a point to show up for me, at the drop of a hat, with calls of encouragement, texts to reinstill confidence in me, and COVID-safe hangs to just physically be present with me through it all. I got some top shelf individuals in my life...

And at the end of a year like this, the most sobering things that have made their way back to front and center for me have been: how much relationships matter and the true brevity of life. Having faced that brevity fairly closely due to COVID’s effects on loved ones, and personally, with my own past health scare, I’m re-upping on the conscious decision to be an illuminative presence in my relationships. To be better about being consistently involved in my people’s lives, which as an introvert can sometimes cost me the very last morsels of my energy. To be more curious and open hearted when relating to people who think and believe differently than me. To continue to build myself up so that I can become someone who both healthily processes emotions and difficulty while safeguarding against rumination and wallowing, so I can be more emotionally available for the people in my life (my fellow Enneagram 4s know all about that struggle). Life’s much too brief for me to be any other way.

Anywho, there are some big things on the horizon, known and unknown, and I need space to be ready. So, social media homies, I’ll see you in 45 days (or, you know, hit me up if you want to see me before then).

#HappyNewYear

1 note · View note

intothedanvers-e · 6 years

Text

Young, Dumb, & Broke

Word Count: 1844

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You just graduated high school and were ready to embark on your last summer of being a dumb teen and going on adventures before having to face the realities of the adult world. One day you were driving to a lake to meet some of your friends when your car broke down in the middle of nowhere. With no service and no gas stations around you wandered a little down the street and found one house where you went to ask for help. You expected to find an old couple living in the middle of nowhere, but a nice young British guy (Tom) answered the door. Due to unforeseen circumstances you spend the rest of the afternoon and most of the night together, but when it’s time to leave he says he wants to see you again. You exchange numbers with the cute British guy and embark on a long, secretive summer fling. You both lie about what you do for a living and what you were both doing in the middle of nowhere, but the moments you too bonded were all genuine. Will he find out about your plans after summer? Will you find out what he actually does for a living? Will this fling extend past summer?

Authors Note: Once again thank you for all the love on this series! At this point idk how long it’ll be but im having so much fun writing it and i really hope you guys are enjoying it just as much!! if you want to be part of the taglist or have any feedback please dont hesitate in letting me know! also if you want me to write anything else (one shot, blurb, au) you can send me anything to my ask! The italics is the other person on the phone and italics + bold is a text message! ok i love all of u and it really means a lot to me if you read + enjoy this series! bye! <3 (btw he’s my masterlist if ur curious!)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 3

You and Tom had somehow shifted closer to each other as the night wore on. You were now both seated on the floor with your backs against the couch and only mere inches away from each other. You were both wrapped up in your own blankets, mainly because you’d both just spent an hour trying to figure out how to turn off the AC and failed miserably. It was 2 am now but neither of you were tired, and neither of you wanted to be the baby and tap out to go to sleep first. You had both just been sitting there since after dinner talking about everything from your favorite memories ever to dumb things like whether or not you believed in aliens and ghosts.

“No yeah living with 3 brothers is both the worst and the best, but I wouldn’t trade them for the world. I’m the oldest of us so I think I got the best deck of cards handed to me,” he said running his fingers through his curls.

“That’s adorable! It’s just been me and my mom for as long as I can remember so I’d always wished I would’ve had siblings or even cousins,” you tried to laugh off the last part of the sentence while silently cursing yourself for oversharing.

“You don’t have much family then?”

“Not really. My mom got pregnant at 16 so I never met my dad. It used to be my grandmother, my mom, and I but my grandma passed away when I was like 6 so it’s just been me and my mom since then. Well also my moms best friend and her kids. She’s our neighbor so she’s like my non blood related family. Every time my mom has to leave for work I usually stayed with her so she’s like a second mom to me.”

“What does your mother do?”

“She’s a photographer. Nature, portraits, fashion shows and magazine covers; you name it, my mom’s done it. After my grandma passed she really threw herself into her work, which was all amazing but usually meant she’d spend less time at home. The money was great, and my mom gets invited to all kinds of cool stuff but sometimes I just wanted my mom at home you know? Oh my god why am I telling you all of this? I’m sorry for rambling.”

Your cheeks turned a bright red and you diverted your eyes to the floor avoiding eye contact with Tom. To your surprise he actually extended his arm and gave your arm a sympathetic rub.

“No you’re fine, I can’t imagine where’d I be without my family so I’m sorry you had to deal with all that stuff alone.”

You tried to piece words together but the moment he touched your arm, even though it was over the blanket, it sent your heart doing backflips as you started to hear your heartbeat in your ears. You were staring into her beautiful eyes for a second too long when suddenly the phone in the laundry room started to ring. The both of you jumped.

“I should probably get that,” you said getting up and running toward the phone.

“Sounds good!” he yelled from the living room.

You tried catching your breath before answering the phone.

“Hello?”

“Tom?”

“Uhh no, hold on a sec.”

“Wait if this isn’t Tom who is this?”

The voice on the phone had the same deep British accent as Tom so you assumed it was a family friend. You set the phone down on the washer next to the phone and ran into the living room. “The call’s actually for you,” you said grabbing your blanket and dropping yourself on the couch.

“That’s weird I didn’t know anyone had that phone number,” he said slowly walking over to the laundry room.

“British accent.”

“What?”

“Whoever’s on the phone also has a British accent.”

“Ah.”

He seemed to know exactly who it was but you decided not to inquire. He left the room swiftly. Your phone started buzzing wildly on the coffee table. It was a FaceTime from your best friend, but you didn’t feel like answering it considering you’d been messaging her since 6 pm and she didn’t bother to check up on you once. You were originally planning on asking her to pick you up on her way home but you were so overcome with anger that you suddenly decided you’d take a taxi home if you had to. Anything to not have to see any of your friends for a while, you could even try to give them the silent treatment.

She sent you a message. “hope ur doing something non y/n-ish and having fun. guy must be bored out of his mind. see u tmrw, get home ok.”

You rolled your eyes and put your phone face down on the coffee table. Your friend always teased you about being the safe one in the group. Even though your mom wasn’t usually home much, you didn’t do anything behind her back and you followed most of her rules. There were even times when your mom would encourage you to sneak out to see a boy or go to a party but you never really cared for being a rule breaker and your friends never ceased to remind you how lame that was.

Tom walked back into the living room and smiled at you as he walked over to the couch.

“That was my mate Harrison, he went to visit some family in town and somehow got tricked into having a sleepover with his nieces so he won’t be coming back tonight.”

“Oh I thought you were here alone?”

He froze and started running his hands through his curls.

“Oh yeah Harrison is my best mate and kind of like my assistant, you know for the book writing and stuff so uh he takes every vacation with me he can with the excuse of it being a business trip.”

“Sounds like a fun guy. He sounded so confused when I answered the phone, sorry about that.”

“No worries. He was a bit confused so I basically had to give him the long story short of cute girl with a broken down car in the middle of nowhere seeks help.”

“Why thank you.”

“Uhh no what I meant to say is- “

“Are you really going to take back a compliment now Tom?”

His cheeks turned a light pink as he gave you a goofy grin.

“You got me there.”

The phone rang again.

“That might actually be the tow truck this time.”

You power walked over to the phone and answered it.

“Hello ma’am our tow truck is about 5 to 10 minutes out from getting to you. We will call you as soon as we get word that he’s on his way back, and unfortunately you will have to come till tomorrow morning to get your quote.”

“That’s fine, thank you.”

You walked back into the living room and grabbed your jacket.

“The tow truck will be here in 5 to 10 minutes so I’ll probably wait for it on your front porch. I can’t get a quote till the morning so I’ll probably order a taxi as soon as they leave with my car.”

“Let me just grab a hoodie and I’ll wait out there with you. Also youcanstayhereifyouwantto.”

He said the last part so fast as he tried to dart up the stairs.

“What?” you called from the bottom of the stairs.

He stopped on the second to last step and turned to face you.

“Yeah not to be to forward or anything but I’ve got plenty of rooms and I would hate to put you in a taxi from the middle of nowhere at almost 3 am. I have rooms that lock from the inside if that makes you feel any safer.”

You thought about the text from your best friend and all the times your friends made fun of you for being so “lame” and decided to take a risk.

“You know what I’d love that. Thank you.”

He smiled and shot you a thumbs up before descending into his room. He ran back down and accompanied you outside. It was completely dark outside, the street was just illuminated by the moon and the stars. You could see the tow truck approaching from some ways down the road.

“I have a duffel bag with clothes in my back seat so I’ll probably get that and bring it in.”

He nodded and followed closely behind you. You waited for a bit as the tow truck approached. The guy seemed nice but tired, considering as he made almost no small talk except to ask you to sign certain papers.

“I’ll see you in the morning ma’am,” he said climbing into his tow truck.

You and Tom quietly walked back to his house.

“Do you want me to show you the rooms?” he asked as soon as he locked all the doors behind him.

“Do you have a pool?”

“Yeah why?”

“Is it heated?”

“I believe so.”

“Are you up for a night swim? The sky is too beautiful to pass up a night swim with a new friend in summer, Tom Holland.”

He looked at you confused but intrigued.

“I really like where your head is at Y/N. I think this can be the start of a beautiful relationship-UHH I MEAN FRIENDSHIP.”

You laughed as his cheeks went a deep red this time, traveling all the way up to his ears.

“I’m going to go get changed and get some towels, the bathroom is right through there if you want to change in there,” he said as he started climbing up the stairs.

“Okay I’ll be waiting out there.”

You went into the bathroom and exhaled. This was something you’d never in a million years thought you’d be doing, but you were glad that you were. A cute British guy with a heated pool in the middle of nowhere? Even you weren’t dumb enough to pass up on that opportunity. You quickly changed into the bikini you packed in your duffel bag. You would usually beat yourself up for having the duffel bag in the first place considering you had it in there since the day your mom told you the chances of you needing an overnight bag in case of emergencies and you completely missed the joke about needing it for when you stay over at a guys house, but you were just happy you had an extra pair of everything right now.

You walked out of the bathroom at the same time Tom was walking down the stairs in nothing but swimming trunks. You could see his toned abs and arms and everything. It made your heart race. He walked up to you with a goofy grin and handed you a towel.

“You ready?”

“Of course,” you smiled at him and followed closely behind him admiring his back muscles.

Boy was this the best idea you’ve had for a while.

Tag List: @hollandlovely @greenarrowhead @justanotherfangirl2015 @oh-dear-tommy @marvelnerdxinfinity @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @hollandhugs

strikethrough means u couldn’t be tagged for some reason, sorry :(

140 notes · View notes

queen-of-the-sock-goblins-blog · 5 years

Text

Omegle

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

Stranger: real?

You: Last time I checked.

You: Sadly

Stranger: damn

Stranger: going into the heavy shit right out of the gate

Stranger: what's up?

You: Nothin' much

You: Hbu?

Stranger: same

Stranger: had a pretty low-key day

You: Same

Stranger: you okay?

You: Yeah, why?

Stranger: with the whole "wishing you weren't real" thing, I mean

You: I didn't necessarily say I wished I wasn't real.

You: I just implied it.

You: What even is real?

Stranger: I mean, really....

You: I'm fine, just having a bit of an existential crisis.

Stranger: I'm sorry

You: Nah, it

You: is fine

Stranger: okay,I guess

Stranger: so how may this stranger on the internet enrich your brief time on this earth?

You: You got happiness in the shape of a carton of ice cream?

Stranger: ...I don't know how to do emojis on this thing...

You: I wasn't referring to emoji's. Real happiness comes in the form of ice cream

You: Sorry that took forever

You: I'm freaking out

Stranger: oh, I'm sorry

Stranger: I thought you said "cartoon ice cream"

Stranger: read it wrong

You: Something keeps whacking the side of my house and freaking me out.

Stranger: ...is it windy right now?

You: Yeah, I'm still on edge though

You: I am paranoid af

Stranger: is it daylight right now where you are?

You: Not quite.

You: Why?

Stranger: could you just go out and check what it is?

You: HECK NO

You: It is 2 30 in the morning and I am home alone

You: this scared bitch ass ain't walking out side that late in -30 degrees weather

You: I have weird neighbors

Stranger: ...are you saying one of your neighbors might be knocking on the side of your house?

You: No... i am saying that I wou;dn't put it past one of them to do it. Especially if they knew it would freak me tf out and I was home by myself

You: It's is pretty windy, though, too.

Stranger: it's probably just the wind, tbh

You: Oh, I know it's the wind.

You: But whenever I get scared, or even nervous, my brain pulls the scariest shit from the depths of my brain just for the fun of it I guess.

Stranger: where are you, anyway?

You: Iowa

Stranger: oh, cool

You: Where are you at?

Stranger: California

You: Cool

Stranger: um... I can't really help you...

Stranger: with whatever's going on outside, I mean

You: It's just nerves

You: So... age?

Stranger: 24

Stranger: you?

You: 15

Stranger: m or f?

Stranger: (just curious)

You: f

Stranger: I kinda figured

Stranger: (doesn't want to talk about sex stuff ==> PROBABLY a teenage girl...)

You: Trust me, I hear enough about sex during the day.

You: I just realized how creepy that sounded.

You: I am so sorry'

Stranger: O_O

Stranger: Do you need me to call child protective services?!

You: I live with my older sister and three brothers.

Stranger: (also I just realized that response went to the wrong person)

Stranger: (I have 2 different Omegle windows open at once)

Stranger: (the other person I'm talking to opened the convo with "NO SEX STUFF;" I got you confused)

You: Cool, I used to do that when I had a perfectly functioning memory

You: Anyways, they are very vocal on their sex lives at any chance they get.

You: Not vocal as in...

Stranger: ah...

You: Nvrmind

Stranger: I get the idea, yeah

Stranger: they brag

You: My sister doesn't brag, she just sucks on her boyfriends face

Stranger: it's gonna come off some day if she's not careful...

You: And when she's not found doing that, she'll be found in the kitchen talking as loud as she can

You: Hopefully

You: Maybe then I won't have to see that moron

Stranger: XD

Stranger: or maybe you'll just have a guy without a face hanging around

Stranger: which would be... worse...?

You: Well, if he didn't have a face, I wouldn't be able to hear him speak

You: BUT, if he wasn't around, then I wouldn't have to see the sorry excuse of dick always lounging around our house

You: Tbh, idk what would be better. It would be absolute torture for him to not talk about himself all day

Stranger: oh no

Stranger: he's one of THOSE...

You: Mhm

Stranger: ...I kind of want details, lol...

You: get this, when he's drunk, he's actually really nice and quiet for the most part.

Stranger: HAHAHA

You: He asked me the other day how you cut a banana

Stranger: -_-

Stranger: I hate to be the one to tell you this...

You: I had to teach him how to make kool-aid, season chicken, and cook pasta

Stranger: ...but your sister might be dating a moron.

You: fold towels

You: Tell me something I don't know

Stranger: ...how did she even find this man?

You: I think the only reason she does it, is because she is either blinded by love or stupidity

You: He lives next door

You: close family friend for years

Stranger: SHE'S FUCKIN' THE NEIGHBOR BOY?!

Stranger: oh good god...

You: Yeah, I know right?

You: Fun fact: He graduated last year and always hangs around our housse

You: how he didn't know how to season chicken is a crime

Stranger: you... you put seasoning... on chicken...

Stranger: there's... nothing... to... figure... outt...

You: Especially since his father is the professional grill artist of this side of the culdesac

Stranger: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

You: He covers them completely

You: Like actually douses them in spices and throws em in a pan

Stranger: ...

Stranger: okay, so what you need to do

Stranger: is get your sister a chastity belt

You: THAT'S THE WAY TO GO

Stranger: this guy's privileges are revoked

You: AHHHHH

You: they don't exist though...

You: I wrote a book this Christmas.

You: It's called, "How to Survive Planet Earth When You're Name is Cael and Can't Function Properly"

You: Inside, I wrote VERY detailed basic things and adult-ish human should know how to do.

Stranger: you could sell it

Stranger: no matter what's in the book, you could absolutely sell a book with that title

You: You think?

Stranger: I ACTUALLY laughed out loud when I read that XD

You: It has full coverage from folding laundry, cleaning a house-and this rate

You: Changikng Diapers

Stranger: (congrats on writing a book, btw)

Stranger: (that's not easy, even if it's just a gag gif for your sister's idiot bf)

You: Aww, thanks

You: I think it ended up being about thirty thousand words.

You: He'll still be reading it around next Christmas

Stranger: well, at least he can read...

Stranger: ...that's a start...

You: That itself is a big accomplishment, so I have to give him that.

Stranger: XD

Stranger: Do you write a lot?

You: yeah

You: I love writing

Stranger: GOOD.

Stranger: What kind of stuff do you write?

You: I like writing fantasy, fiction, non-fiction

You: Anything, I just love writing

You: I also right stupid do-it-yourself books for people with an IQ lower than a duckling

Stranger: I dunno

Stranger: I've met some pretty smart ducks...

You: I have not

Stranger: Do you like comics at all?

You: there's this one duck that the people own across the street. her name is Greta the Great (idk why that name), she likes to climb onto cars somehow and sits on them. She does not move and when you try to move her physically, she go all murder duck on you

You: yeah

Stranger: (I promise these questions are going somewhere)

You: I am literally reading ms marvel comics right now

Stranger: YESS

Stranger: I MET G. WILLOW WILSON ONCE

You: REALLY???

Stranger: SHE IS THE SWEETEST HUMAN BEING ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH

You: HOW WAS SHE?

You: WAS SHE MAGICAL?

You: SHE SEEMS LIKE SHE'D BE MAGICAL

You: LIKE, JUST BY HER PRESNENCE

Stranger: THE SUN SHINES OUT OF HER HIJAB

You: AHHHHHHHHHH

You: I KNEW IT

Stranger: (I am a big fancy California person so I get to go to Comic Con hahaha)

You: My parents won't let me

You: YoU'rE tOo YoUnG

You: No I'm NoT GoInG tO gO wItH yOu

Stranger: also tickets are a couple hundred bucks

You: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

You: nope to that shit

Stranger: I am a big fancy california person who also has enough industry ties that he can get in on a free professional guest pass XD

You: HOW

You: I MUST KNOW KIND SIR

Stranger: My dad worked on some of the official Marvel character encyclopedias

You: LUCKY

Stranger: YUSS :3

You: Do you know which ones>

You: ?

Stranger: those big leather-bound ones they used to have in Barnes & Noble...

Stranger: "Marvel: The Characters and Their Universe"

You: DE FANCY ONES

You: That's cool. Those are normally the types of books I just read in store

Stranger: yeah, cause they're $75

You: Yup

You: I almost bought one once, but if I bought it, I wouldn't have been able to go to camp

You: So I put it off

You: It was only because it was marked down for like 54.99

Stranger: you can get them for, like, $25 now

You: Really? I haven't been to a Barnes and Noble for like three months

Stranger: I mean... if you were to send me the money, my dad would PROBABLY sign one for you XD

You: That would be cool...

You: Although it wouldn't be wise to send money to a stranger across the internet

Stranger: yeah, I was gonna say...

Stranger: might be kind of hard to explain...

You: and I don't make enough in a day babysitting the snotty nosed demon down the street

Stranger: "HEY DAD, I NEED YOU TO DO A FAVOR FOR THIS TEENAGE GIRL I MET ON THE INTERNET"

You: I can see why he might be concerned

Stranger: yeah, lol

Stranger: anyway

Stranger: LOOOONG roundabout point I was trying to get to

Stranger: there's a new comic publisher called "AHOY Comics"

Stranger: that prints short prose stories in the back of each issue

Stranger: and anyone can submit one

Stranger: and it pays

Stranger: so if you can do a quirky horror/fantasy story in about 1,000 words

Stranger: it might be worth looking into

You: You don't have to draw?

You: Or anything like that?

Stranger: no, it's a prose story

You: Oh, duh

Stranger: you should probably check out one of their issues first, if you get the chance

You: That sounds interesting, I'll have to check it out

Stranger: They already bought two stories from me :)

You: awesome

You: So is that how people get like "discovered"?

Stranger: I hope so! XD

Stranger: Mine haven't actually been published yet

Stranger: so I don't know how it works after that

You: So do they publish them after they buy them? Just raw, like after no tweaking or changes? Or do you have to do rough drafts upon rough drafts before they release it?

You: Or would you know?

Stranger: they tweak a little

You: I can actually understand why. I mean publishing something that's probably never reached professional editing doesn't really sound like a wise idea to me.

Stranger: the biggest change they made to mine was just shortening it

Stranger: 600 words is the optimum length, even though they accept up to 1,000

You: That is actually a genius program. I wonder how many creators they have?

Stranger: a lot...

Stranger: have you looked them up

You: Yeah, I've been scrolling through their website.

You: Most of their comics look like something I'd read

Stranger: The prose story in the first issue they ever published was by Grant Morrison.

You: have you ever heard of line webtoon?

Stranger: And now they're publishing me.

Stranger: In the same space

Stranger: as Grant

Stranger: Fucking

Stranger: Morrison

Stranger: Yeah, I actually have a webcomic on Line Webtoon too...

You: He wrote that one comic about the asylum right?

You: Really?

You: Which one?

Stranger: ...TWO, actually...

Stranger: One's about a gay penguin, and the other's just stream-of-consciousness, usually R-rated doodles

You: Oh cool, so like the slice of life/ comedy?

You: Oh, have you read Backstory?

You: that's one of my favorites/

Stranger: I haven't, no

Stranger: what is it?

You: One of the creators is Stan Lee

You: May he rest in peace.

Stranger: *crosses heart*

You: not, back story

You: Backchannel

You: Sorry

You: On the surface, Tom Tanner is having an average high school life - struggling to stay on the lacrosse team, hiding his affections for his friend Sally, and trying to keep his head down and grades up. What his father, an LA police detective, and friends don’t know is that Tom is an engineering prodigy and is being recruited by BACKCHANNEL, a decentralized hactivist group causing havoc at prisons across the U.S.

You: There's the description that was on the webtoons page

Stranger: ooohh...

Stranger: Here's mine, if you're interested...

Stranger: https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/i-think-im-a-penguin/list?title_no=194476

Stranger: (I really need to update this thing again...)

You: OKKKKKKKKKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY

You: Ima be right back

You: Thud downstairs

You: fam might be home

You: ima fetch a vacuum hose

You: brb

Stranger: vacuum hose...?

Stranger: Also where were they?

You: OH MY LORD AND SAVIOR

You: My sister, her boyfriend, and parents are with my cousin who was pregnant and having difficulty delivering, they were staying until friday

You: One went with while the other is at his dorm in Iowa City

You: And that leaves the little shi-thead, Ethan

You: He was supposed to be at a sleepover.

You: He comes home at almost four in the morning when it is -50 degrees outside and covered head to foot in snow. Banging on the front door, because he forgot to grab his stupid fourth controler for playstation.

Stranger: -_-

You: He left with a muffin

Stranger: ....

Stranger: ...

Stranger: ..

Stranger: .

You: He also left with the little warm air left in this house too

Stranger: ...

You: So there's that.

You: HEY!

You: WHAT IF THOSE THUMPS WERE HIM AND HIS TWAT FRIENDS

You: THE ONES I WAS HEARING EARLIER

Stranger: I was about to ask about that, lol

You: Okay, I'm technically not home alone. I've got ninja. Our small bean of a cat who believes she is a lion.

You: She likes to attack strangers

You: Maybe I should have sicced him on the little shit

Stranger: I approve of everything about your cat

You: Thanks

You: She is sitting with me, growling at the window

You: I am now annoyed knowing that my brother and his friends have nothing better to do than sit outside in -50 and stare at me through the window.

You: I hope their parents are proud

Stranger: I mean... your brother's parents are also your parents, so...

You: Yeah, they are real proud of his accomplishments in life

You: *sarcasm

Stranger: WAS IT REALLY HIM?!

You: Thumping on the window?

You: Walls and such?

You: I have no idea

You: And I don't think he'll come near me for a few days until he knows I won't rip out his intestines

Stranger: you should do it anyway

Stranger: just to show him

You: I just know, I saw four figures waddle back down the street

You: Little shits

You: Ima tell their mommas

Stranger: ALL FOUR OF THEM CAME?!

You: They'll whoop their ass

You: They didn't come in

Stranger: Just... just stay and play video games at your house!

You: (thankfully)

Stranger: They already made the damn trek!

You: I can't

Stranger: god dammit

You: Oh.

You: they are petty and have nothing to do with their lives

You: I'll gove them this pleasure

You: give*

You: Besides

You: that is waaaaay too much testosterone for this house. Plus, I don't have a door on my room and I won't get any sleep at all, let alone with like the two and a half hours I have to do so.

Stranger: ...do I need to let you sleep?

You: Nah, who needs sleep when you have a blanket fort and enough coffee for four thousand vikings

Stranger: And idiot siblings who would've woken you up anyway!

You: Exactly

You: The only reason i'm up this early, is because I never get me time.

You: This is my time to shine baby

Stranger: SAME

You: I'm listening to thirteen reason why, eating waffle crunch, sipping on mostly sugar induced coffee, and on omegle. making friends and bonding over comics and douch brothers and boyfriends

You: Besides, my parents aren't here. I could be like a normal teenage girl and throw a party

You: but why would I do that when I could invite the best person on planet earth.

You: ME AND ONLY ME

You: It is a strictly me party.

You: That's probably why his friends didn't come in...

You: I am tying all sorts of strings together tonight

Stranger: not everyone's a party person

You: I LOOK LIKE A FREKIN MARSHMALLOW MAN RN

Stranger: embrace it

Stranger: BE the marshmallow

You: I have on: tights, spandex, leggings, yoga pants, and sweatpants. two long sleeve shirts and a sweatshirt, four pairs of socks and a beanie

You: Oh, and leg warmers I found under my bed a few weeks ago

You: I also have the heater shooting lava temp air into my pillow/blanket fort

Stranger: Perfect.

You: Ikr?

You: At least I won't freeze to death, even if the power goes out

Stranger: haha, that's good

Stranger: freezing to death should be avoided

Stranger: (I REALLY feel the thing about needing to stay up late to get "me time," btw)

Stranger: (It's 2:17 AM here)

You: Ah, 4;17

You: lol, most the time, this neighbor girl named abi?

You: She comes over and pretends she's part of the family because shes a lonely only child

You: Gotta love her though

Stranger: Not as bad as your brothers or sister's bf?

You: Nah.

You: I can tell her to leave me alone and she listens

You: That's the difference

Stranger: KEEP HER

You: IKR! XD

You: You know that stupid NUN movie?

You: The horror?

Stranger: I know of it, I haven't seen it.

You: Neither have I nor will I ever...

You: An ad just played for it and I think i just had a mini chest pain there at the end

Stranger: I haven't seen the ad, I don't think...

You: At least the devils hour is over. I don't have to worry about stuff like that

You: I've only seen it once before, although it was months ago. I don't know why it'd be playing now.

You: brb

You: THEY CAME BACK FOR THE MUFFINS!

Stranger: MOTHERFUCKERS

You: GOD DANG IT, THEY'RE ALL GONE

You: Oh wait

You: They left a single chocolate chip in the bottom

You: at least they have common decency

Stranger: i suppose it's better than nothing

Stranger: ...but not by much...

You: Yeah...

You: There is literally nothing sweet in this house.

You: i could make something, but I don't want to leave my fort

Stranger: WHY ARE THEY VENTURING OUT INTO FREEZING SNOW

Stranger: FOR MUFFINS?!?!?!?!

You: Who knows

You: HEY, THEY ORDERED PIZZA

You: WHY DON'T THEY EAT THEIR OWN FOOD

Stranger: tell their parents

You: oh they most definitely will hear of this

Stranger: tell their parents that their children are out wandering the streets at 4 AM in the middle of a blizzard

You: Funny thing

You: My cousin?

You: The pregnant one that is giving birth three states away?

Stranger: yeah?

You: that's her mom

You: She's gone

Stranger: what?

You: Brother is staying at cousin's house down the street

Stranger: OH

You: I locked the door

Stranger: lol

You: they ain't getting my heater

You: if they come back, that's probs be what they go for.

Stranger: well, it kind of sounds like you need that to... you know... LIVE...

You: well, unless the furnace doesn't kicks off i'll be fine

You: besides i've got ninja

You: a very irritable portable heater

Stranger: *tapes cat to face*

Stranger: "I'm good!"

You: No...

You: .

You: kitt-ing

You: haha

Stranger: -_-

You: I have no friends

Stranger: I'm sorry

Stranger: I'm a 24 year old man who still lives with his parents, and spends his evenings socializing online with total strangers who--not always but USUALLY--turn out to be teenage girls.

Stranger: ...so you might still be ahead of the curve on this one...

You: I don't know about that one

Stranger: (nothing wrong with being a teenage girl, obviously)

Stranger: (just... maybe not the demographic I should be socializing with the most...?)

You: I'm a socially awkward fifteen year old gorl who has severe anxiety and when tries to speak to anyone that's not related to or known for at least five years, cannot speak to in person without screaming on the inside. If not found caressing my refrigerator or at the back of my public library, I will be found on youtube, tumblr, pinterest, or just staring outside at the field of cows across the street.

Stranger: (the person in my other Omegle window called me out on it and now I'm feeling self-conscious)

You: haha

Stranger: yeah, I have anxiety problems too

Stranger: and I'm starting to dip towards being more comfortable interacting with people online than I am in person

Stranger: which scares me a little

You: Oh, I'm homeschooled too, so... there goes anything that has to do with people

Stranger: cause, you know... real life... is... goof

Stranger: *good

Stranger: OH GOD

Stranger: Okay

Stranger: yeah

Stranger: I'm sorry

Stranger: homeschooling is bad

You: Not necessarily.

Stranger: I mean, it can be really hard on your social life

Stranger: (and yeah, the regular education system is pretty bad too, soo...)

You: I don't have to ding fucks that call themselves teenagers. I can stay at home in my jam-jams all day

You: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

You: WHAT SOCIAL LIFE?

Stranger: ...

Stranger: I don't even know what advice to give you on that one...

Stranger: Most of my friends who need to get out more are, you know... adults... who can leave the house without needing permission and drive and shit.

You: Ok, I will admit. If I put my mind to it and really focus and stuff, I can form a coherent sentence without looking like a mentally sick and deranged horse.\

Stranger: And I do have SOME friends my own age. Lol.

Stranger: ...

You: I do have one friend.

Stranger: Is it Abi?

You: Nah, she's family

You: his names Levi

You: He is nine and his favorite animal is parrot

Stranger: ah

Stranger: is this the "demon you babysit" you mentioned earlier?

You: HOW DID YOU KNOW

Stranger: ...because you mentioned babysitting a demon earlier...?

You: That is some serious string tying, sir

Stranger: > person says they never interact with other people

Stranger: > person mentions one other person they interact with

Stranger: > person mentions interacting with someone recently

Stranger: QED: person they interacted with is probably one person they mentioned

Stranger: ...

Stranger: okay that actually made me more confused...

You: YOU'VE BEEN TALKING WITH ME FOR TOO LONG

You: YOU'RE DEVELOPING A TERRIBLE MEMORY

Stranger: ALSO IT'S ALMOST 3:00 IN THE MORNING HERE

Stranger: SO I MIGHT BE A LITTLE SPACY

You: that might be my excuse as well

You: I am dreading to admit I have a dentist appointment at 8:30

Stranger: FUCK

You: its five

You: fml

Stranger: ...

Stranger: I can't really judge anyone else's life choices

Stranger: especially when it comes to spending too much time on this site...

Stranger: ...but you should not have spent a couple hours talking to me

Stranger: :P

You: Nah, it's fine.

You: I should probably get a little sleep, though

Stranger: yeah...

You: so i don't fall asleep at the dentists office

Stranger: hope this bite-sized glimpse of socializing gave you what you needed...

You: Maybe

Stranger: ...i don't even know what I'm saying anymore I'm tired...

You: probably not

You: good night

Stranger: hang in there

You: actually, good morning

Stranger: it gets better

You: does it really?

Stranger: adult responsibilities really aren't that much harder than teenage responsibilities

Stranger: but you get the freedom of being an adult

You: adulting sounds pretty difficult

You: are you sure?

Stranger: to, like... leave the house whenever you want, and pick your own schedule and shit

Stranger: you've managed to keep yourself alive while your parents were out of town, yes?

You: .

You: barely

You: almost murdered four teenage boys, that's for sure

Stranger: it seems hard when you're not doing it

Stranger: then you just kinda... start doing it, without even realizing it

Stranger: adulting, I mean

Stranger: not murdering teenagers

You: I was gonna say...

You: I was so confused after that first statement

Stranger: lol

Stranger: okay, I'm out of wisdom

Stranger: go get some sleep

Stranger: and... try to... find friends? In the real world?

You: That was real encouraging

Stranger: sorry

You: Go and... find friends

You: Nah it's cool

Stranger: wherever you get your comics

Stranger: see if they hold D&D tournaments or something?

Stranger: or Magic?

You: okie dokie

Stranger: okay

Stranger: good night

You: night'

You have disconnected.

2 notes · View notes

freakylittle-shank · 7 years

Text

Following You Around

Anonymous Request:Hi! Do you write for Gideon (OUAT)? If so, could I request one where the reader knows him (maybe they met in passing, he kidnapped her, idk) and he keeps making excuses to see her (although he’s still considered bad). They have a sarcastic “I hate you” kind of friendship until Gideon realizes he likes her? You can decide how the ending goes!

A/N: *insert rainbows and glitters* So here is your Gideon request anon c: Hope you like it!

P.S: My imagine request is open boo c:

( The gifs are not mine )

______________________________________________________________

- 2 years ago -

You woke up in a cold dark place, you didn’t know where you are and you were scared.

You tried to get up but your wrapped around the chair. You tried to budge to get out and escape.

“Try all you want love but you’ll never escape.” You heard a voice as you saw a tall hooded figure enter the room where you are being kept.

“Who the hell are you?” You said with a sassy tone in your voice and you furrowed your brows as you look at the figure in front of you.

As soon as he entered the room he removed the hood that’s covering his face

“I’m Gideon.” He said with a small smirk on his face.

“Oh well, Hey there Gideon don’t you mind if you just.. Explain why the hell I’m here?!” You said your voice still sassy and you heard Gideon chuckle for a second.

Gideon started walking to where you are and you furrowed you brows and put on a distasteful look on your face.

“I want you to tell me something..” Gideon said walking slowly to your figure.

“I’m not telling you anything.” You cut him off before he finished his sentence and you smirked while you looked at him dead in the eyes.

As soon as Gideon reached towards you he looked down at your eyes and held his hand out to the back of the chair.

Gideon tilted his observing you.

You stayed still not showing any sign of weakness, you held your head up high and held you gaze on his face.

“I’m not taking that for an answer.” Gideon said breaking the silence between the two of you.

“Well, you should. And like I said.. I’m not telling you anything.” You said leaning your face towards him with a fierce look on your face.

Gideon held your face tightly and looked at you with a smirk on his face he chuckled when he saw a twinge of fear pass through your eyes.

“We can go like this all night long.” Gideon said, his smirk becoming wider and you just stared at Gideon getting intimidated by him.

You frowned in defeat and heard Gideon chuckle for one last time.

- Present Day -

It was Friday night and you were having dinner at Granny’s alone, accompanied by a novel you love while waiting for your order.

You were in the middle of reading your book when you heard a familiar voice next to you.

“Mind if I cut in?” You heard Gideon say and just sitting down at your table without waiting for your permission.

“You…” You said, the amount of sass in your voice prominent and you rolled your eyes as Gideon sat down in front you and you heard him chuckle.

“What do you want now Gideon?” You said as put your book down and crossed your arms looking at him annoyed by the fact that your kidnapper had the urge to see you again.

“What? Can’t a man like me just casually talk to a lady like you?” Gideon said raising both of his brows and smiled at you as he leaned his back to the chair crossing his arms, copying you.

“Well if you remembered clearly, You kidnapped me. Gideon. And I don’t see any particular reason why you should be around me.” You said and looked at his face while you raised a brow and gave him a fake smile.

Gideon smiled widely and brought his finger to his lips and shook his head as if something was funny about what you said.

You just stared at Gideon with a ‘what-the-hell is funny?’ face until Ruby came up and gave you your order.

“Thanks Ruby.” You said as you turned you glance to Ruby and gave her a smile.

“Who’s this (Y/N)?” Ruby asked turning her gaze to Gideon.

“Him? Oh, He’s just nobody.” You said as you turned to look at Gideon who is still smiling at you.

“Let’s not be rude here (Y/N), my dear.” Gideon said while he smiled and winked at you making you furrow you brows.

He turned his gaze to Ruby who is still there looking at the two of you.

“I’m Gideon.” Gideon said as he smiled and shook hands with Ruby.

“Ruby.” She said smiling back at Gideon and you can see that she obviously likes him and it makes you want to choke.

“Well if you need anything, Let me know.” Ruby said as she winked at Gideon turned around flashing her perfect body at Gideon.

You just looked at them with an unpleasant look on your face

“Kill me now.” You thought to yourself and turned to your food ready to eat it.

You ate your food silently and there were no words spoken after Gideon and Ruby’s short conversation.

As you were eating your food you can feel that Gideon is staring at you and it makes you feel uncomfortable.

“What?” You said breaking the silence between the two of you.

“Nothing.” Gideon smiled as he leaned back again and crossed his arms while watching you eat your food.

“If you’re just going to look at me like that the entire time then you can leave.” You said looking at him in the eyes.

“But what if I don’t want to leave?” Gideon said challenging you.

“Then I will.” You said as you smiled about to stand up and take your food to move in another chair but you stopped as soon as you heard Gideon laugh.

You looked at Gideon and he just laughed at you making you stare at him. You haven’t seen this side if him and it makes you wonder what would’ve happened if you met in a friendly circumstance and not in the “I’m gonna kidnap you for information” kind of way.

And if you were to be honest, You kinda liked Gideon. He’s just as challenging and sarcastic as you are. You liked that about him, you liked how he can just make you want to kill him with sarcasm and end up having fun instead.

“Oh, (Y/N). if you only knew why.” Gideon said standing up, a smile still on his face.

He started to walk past you and you turned around while looking at him in surprise.

“Wait, Where are you going?” You said as you furrowed your brows making him stop.

“You said I can leave, and that’s what I’m doing.” Gideon said walking while he’s still facing you.

“See you around, darling.” Gideon said as he reached for the door. He smiled at you and gave you one last look then he winked at you just as he left.

You were still standing trying to get what happened all in your mind then you sat down and just stared at your food the entire time.

______________________________________________________________

(Time skip)

It’s been days and you kept on seeing Gideon everywhere and anywhere since you saw him at Granny’s.

Like you just see him everywhere you go even at work. He comes by your apartment and it just seems like he’s following you around like a lost puppy and it’s starting to get weird.

He even tried to blow up your office after you stayed there to work for the whole night.

And there was one time when he saw you with talking with Henry and he disguised himself as another man then casted a spell at Henry and since then Henry stayed away from you.

It’s like Gideon’s still at something but this time everyone is his enemy except you. He treated you differently from the others, He makes you see his good side but he shows his dark side to everyone.

You don’t know why Gideon is acting like this and its starting to make you curious.

It was late at night and you’ve got nowhere else so to go so you just decided to go by the playground. You know you’re too old to go to the playground but no one else is there so you can do whatever you want.

As you stopped by the playground you went by the swing and sat down. You haven’t seen Gideon anywhere today and you were kind of glad and sad about it.

You kept on swinging and thinking about Gideon. You can’t keep your mind of him all the time and you were starting to have deeper feelings for him than you did before.

You heard your phone ring and you stopped swinging to look at the your phone. You turned turned your phone on and you looked at the screen to see a message from an unknown number.

- Unknown Number -

UN: Hey

You looked at the message and you completely have no idea who messaged you so you just ignored it.

Your phone ring again and you saw another message from the unknown texter.

- Unknown Number -

UN: Don’t ignore me.

You furrowed your brows and you’re sure that this might be Gideon. Everyone knows you and no one was a stranger to you so it was obvious that this might be Gideon.

“You’re such a stalker Gideon.” You thought to yourself. You looked at the screen of your phone. You smirked slightly and started to text this ‘Mystery’ texter of yours.

-Unknown Number-

UN: Dont ignore me.

Y: And who might you stalker be?

UN: You tell me.

Y: Not a chance.

Y: It was a pleasure communicating with you stranger. GOODBYE.

UN: But we’re just getting started.

You turned your phone off and put it in your pocket and just stared at the slide a couple meters away from you until you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket.

You took your phone out and you looked at the screen. The number that you texted earlier started calling you.

You stared at it for a second til’ you decided to answer it.

Y: Hello?

UN: You look pretty lonely there.

You: And who are you supposed to be?

You rolled your eyes and stood up from the swing. Gideon does like to keep a mystery going though it’s pretty damn obvious what he’s trying to do sometimes.

UN: Like I said You tell me.

Y: Damn.. Are you sure you don’t want to tell me?

UN: I’m pretty sure about it.

You rolled your eyes then shaked your head smirking to yourself and inhaled deeply thinking about what you should say next.

Y: You know you’re pretty creepy Gideon.

As soon as his name slipped off of your mouth you heard him chuckle.

G: Am I?

You: You are.

G: Turn around.

You turned around and you were startled to see Gideon just behind you, sitting at ine of the swings.

You turned your phone off and slowly slipped it in your pocket. You just stared at Gideon and you saw a smile cross his face.

”What the hell are you doing here Gideon.” You said looking at him and he took your hand to his.

“Why do you keep on following me?” You said while you furrowed your brows and took your hand away from his touch.

“Don’t you want me to?” Gideon said then he stood up from the swing with a grin on his face and started walking close to you.

You just looked at him with a puzzled look on your face.

“I don’t know.” You said and tilted your head and Gideon was just standing there in front of you.

”Why are you even like this Gideon? This is not like you. You’re... completely different.” You said furrowing your browns and Gideon looked down then breathed deeply

Gideon reached to hold your face while staring in your eyes with a smile still on his face and you stayed still.

“You made me weak,” Gideon said looking deeply into your eyes

“You’re my weakness (Y/N)...” Gideon suddenly stopped and just looked at your blank expression.

“Gideon, I know what you mean.” You said taking the hint. You saw Gideon a twinkle in Gideon’s eyes and he smirked.

“What if I tell you that I want to take you with me. Will you come?” Gideon said smirking down at you.

“You tell me.” You said taunting Gideon and with the look on Gideon’s face you can tell that he already knows what’s on your mind.

Gideon leaned in to kiss you and you didn’t hold back. Gideon loves you and you love him too.

Gideon pulled away from the kiss and you were both breathing heavily trying to get some air after the kiss.

“Let’s get the hell outta here.” Gideon said smirking down at you and without another word you both disappeared.

________________________________________________________________

#Gideon ouat #Gideon ouat imagine #Gideon imagine ouat #Once upon a time #storybrooke #Once upon a time imagine #Gideon ouat smut #ouat #ouat imagine #ouat season 6 #.

50 notes · View notes